As open-minded as you may think yourself, you obviously find it a little difficult to believe in such a fantastical concept as time travel. It’s simply not plausible, never has been, and likely never will be. And yet somehow, you find yourself in a place identical to the familiar streets of London… but different. Older. Things have changed. The clock shop on Midland Road has aged.

It was a foolish decision from the beginning to come here, but curiosity won you over in the end. You’re not quite sure what to make of it, what to believe one way or another. But if Professor Hershel Layton of all people deemed it sensible to venture into this reality, future or not, there must be some merit to it. Though the streets are largely isolated, a few construction workers and scientists can be seen here and there, and some rather conspicuous men in shady corners that look an awful lot like… some imitation of the old timey Italian mafia? This is absurd.

Despite yourself, you take a deep breath and pull through. You’ve got plenty of time to figure this out. Until then, you’re entertaining yourself by keeping an eye on the well-dressed young man murmuring something to the sketchy goons before turning his attention to you. His eyes squint for a moment as he zeroes in on your face, seeming to be scrutinizing you, searching his memory for a face like yours.

“I don’t believe you’ve… ah, are you one of the Professor’s companions? Apologies, I didn’t recognize you at first.” He smiles, shaking his head. “I trust you know who I am— Luke Triton, if that wasn’t obvious. A pleasure to meet you… again, I suppose.” He extends a hand. “I should hope you’re here to aid myself and the Professor in our search for his own counterpart here? Or is that presumptuous of me?”