I... felt as if something was manipulating the universe. Maybe it was an incarnation of me, maybe it was the narrator. Or something. I guessed that if the writer wasn't around, the whole world would be frozen. Not good spending a week holding a stone. And realising it was just a few seconds.

"Uh, alright Chance." Well, everything got explained rather quickly, as Chance got his claws on the stone. Honestly, I should've saw that coming. Anyway, I had a feeling everyone else felt awkward holding these odd hands, which would probably get them to kill me since I was the one who suggested it.

And then, Carl.

A real son of a bitch in the roleplay, and I never really liked how he was presented. He got what he deserved, manipulating universes and forcing us to fight mirror twins... and, now, this one I have no idea what he's gonna do. I didn't want to know what he would do. Already, as we phased into existence of... the remains of Hollywood, we were confronted by lots of signs. They looked huge, and made quite some time ago. Carl already had a bad time in the roleplay, being explained how he had this god complex or something to some newbie. That was to work against us. For some reason, he managed to anticipate us coming, setting up a whole load of signs and graffiti. Mostly signs. They didn't really fit Hollywood, what with spotlights broken and strangely a few buildings vandalised with celebrity sprays. The landscape was strangely fine, aside from a few burning patches and frozen grass. By looking at the sun, the time was presumably between 9 and 12 am. Still felt kinda tired though.

May God have mercy on us all, if it turned out Carl was the writer. "Well, Robert, let's just go into the tower ahead of us, and get through a lot of traps... yeah, it's gonna happen."