Finally, Quinn looked like he was returning to himself. As his eyes were opening he could see the underground ceiling in an orange tint, being lit up by the several torches in the large room. When he got up, he was surprised to see that he was in the exact same room as before.
He immediately started touching his own body, seeing if there were any changes. It felt weird to be back in his own body again as if it wasn't his. After all, he had just spent nearly an entire lifetime experiencing everything that Vincent had gone through.
There was no time skip, he had lived every second of Vincent's life from the nightclub until the day he had died. He touched his face, checking if there was any facial hair. Quinn even at seventeen didn't have any facial hair, he just didn't have the genetics for it, but he was wondering how much time had passed.
