The land was vast; an area filled with desert sand and landfill trash. The hot sun above warming the sand below and heating the trash around. And yet, in the middle of it all, was a place unmarked on map with a town of forgotten and abandoned people in the middle. This was Meteor City.

Chrollo was visiting Meteor City, a place he hadn't been to since growing up there and leaving to create the Phantom Troupe, building themselves up to be the most feared gang. After all, what happened here at Meteor City, to his childhood friend, was the reason the Phantom Troupe had been created at all.

He had been wandering, viewing buildings he used to once play in and run past daily. That was when the Church bell rang and the civilians began to move towards it. It was time to pray, time to come together as one, a familiar ritual for him and yet one he had not partook in for so long. He decided to come in and watch, though he couldn't promise to partake.

As he entered the church it all felt so familiar, all so nostalgic. As people moved to one end of the church Chrollo moved to the other, wandering halls and looking out windows to a familiar scene. That was... until you bumped into him. He stopped and looked at you; a civilian of Meteor City and someone who helped around the church.