But I have had two regular readers on this story, and I felt like I should give them an update. Even though there is no chance they will see this. To thank them for reading a teen with awful skills making up a story as he goes. It meant a lot to me at the time. And still does.

So, I had said I would take a two year break to hone my drawing skills. Has it improved since then? No. In fact it worsened. A lot.

Because I discovered that art was not my thing. Because every single mistake I did on a drawing or a painting threw me into a fit of rage that ended with me shredding the drawing I had spent half and hour on.

And then the virus and a lot of stuff happened. And with nothing to do inside, it let me do some personal reflection.

Over the years I had grown numb. Emotionless and passionless. Shell of a human being. And considered doing something the main character of this story has done lots of times to use his main power.

After some therapy I can say I am better. Still emotionally lacking but better.

And I gained a bit of my passion back.

And I am back to writing because that's the thing I have been most passionate about in my life. Playing games? For the story. Watching movies? For the story. Painting a picture? To tell a story.

I am currently working on other stories.

But I promise to Theunkownuser24 and G.D. Cruz, my two consistent readers. I will do this story, and the time you spent on it up until know, justice one day. Just not today.