...One month later.
The sun was setting, it golden rays spread across the sky in a gorgeous arc. The red sky looked beautiful above the visible shadows of trees and people on the floor.
A figure could be seen standing at the window looking so forlorn and blending into the darkness that slowly crept into the sky. Olcan stood there lost in a thousand thoughts, the evening breeze blowing violently through his clothes, threatening to snatch the piece of paper in his grip.
Piece of paper?
It appears that the piece of paper was the source of the thought he was having, the thoughts that had hunched his figure into a dejected posture and has shrouded him in an air of worry and distress.
Olcan could not help but read the words over and over again, he was looking to see if there was a secret cry for help or if perhaps... perhaps a location would manifest itself among the penned down letters and words.
