Quick warning, everything here is a work in progress. Things may get edited in or out - sometimes more than once. The edits shouldn't change the story too much, but I can't be certain that they won't.

And just for the record, the characters here all belong to Level-5

Luke rubbed his groggy eyes, his vision still an unfocused blur from just waking up. A light rain drizzled down the windows, creating a light pattering on the glass. The boy slid out of his warm bed to be met by a cold chill in the air. He gave a small shiver before pulling on the warmth that was his navy blue dressing gown. The steadily ticking wind-up clock on the bedside table was the next to catch his attention - it was only 4am. Going back to sleep straight away wasn't going to be easy with the pitter-pattering of rain, so the boy decided to get himself a glass of water.

Rising onto the balls of his feet, Luke wandered out of the bedroom with careful steps. Directly opposite his room at the far end of the corridor was the professor's, from which the familiar but bothersome sound of snoring escaped. Other than this, it was silent. Silent enough to hear his own footsteps echo as he made his way to the oak door at the other end.

Luke was somewhat surprised to see that Raymond wasn't up and about already - despite how early it was. He breathed a sigh of relief knowing that he wouldn't need to explain what he was doing awake at such a time (not that the butler would pry to begin with). With a stretch, the boy reached for a glass. The gigantic window by the sink was what drew his attention as he poured the water. Behind the silhouette of the walled town, the sky had turned dull and grey clouds convened. The drizzle had become a downpour.

The boy gave a sigh, taking a sip of his water. It would be tough getting back to sleep with the constant pattering on the windows.

Sycamore pushed together his lips. He scrutinized the mask, furrowing his brows. "Why?" He mumbled, running his right hand through the fringe of his hair, not bothering to correct his fallen glasses. "What sort of imbecile am I to have believed that this would be a good idea?" He had resorted to this persona to deceive Layton, but as time went on, the act was becoming more and more difficult to keep up. The man didn't know if it was the guilt of tricking his brother yet again or the upheaval of memories that he was plagued by, but the sooner he could be rid of Desmond Sycamore, the better - for his sanity's sake.

Sauntering back to his bedroom, Luke was relieved to hear that the noise of the professor's snoring had ceased - for now anyway. One less thing keeping him awake, he thought. The silence in the professor's room however, had allowed for another sound to be heard from the next room down. While he knew that the professor wouldn't approve of it, Luke's curious mind got the better of him, and so the boy approached the room.

The door had been left slightly ajar. Luke held his glass of water close to his chest with both hands and leaned in close. Whilst the words were a muddle to the boy, he could hear the low mutterings of Professor Sycamore.

Luke tapped on the door lightly in attempt to not wake anyone else up. Sycamore fell silent. Luke knocked again but still there was no response - maybe he was sleep talking? Luke peered around the door. No, he wasn't asleep. The professor was sitting down on the edge of his bed. The boy gave the door a push.

Sycamore tensed up, but didn't turn around. Who was it? Raymond would almost always address him before entering. The professor slipped the mask into his sleeve, making sure that it was done as inconspicuously as possible.

Luke walked into the room - it was much larger than the one that he was sleeping in, and much tidier. Sycamore was still in his suit, except his red glasses lay beside him on the bed. "Umm... Professor Sycamore?" Luke murmured. There was a short pause before the professor stood up, and as he did so, something fell from his sleeve.

"Luke!" He responded, his voice showing only the slightest hint of annoyance which he had failed to hide. Of all of the people that it could have been, Luke wasn't one that he had considered. He glanced at the clock. "It is only 4am, what is it you need?" He asked, his eyes looking not at the boy but at the wall as he spoke.

"Umm..." Luke paused, his eyes still fixated on the white slip that had fallen. The truth was, he was only in there due to his curiosity. " I think you dropped something over there when you stood up, professor." he said, ignoring Sycamore's question.

"Ah." Desmond kicked himself mentally. " Yes, I know." He said stiffly - the only response he could think of. " And I can pick it up later. Come on now, we have a lot to discover tomorrow and you don't want to be tired, do you?" he continued, walking over to Luke to usher him out of the room. They couldn't find out. The last thing he wanted was for them to find out - not before he'd finished. "I-uh, I'm just going to go and do something, you should probably get back into your bed." He didn't need to go anywhere really, but Sycamore hoped that the excuse would be enough to distract the boy's attention.

"It's fine professor - really, it is. Here, I can tidy it up for you while you're gone." Luke said enthusiastically, stopping himself from making a cheeky comment about how old people can hurt their backs easily.

"Come on now, Luke. Off you go. I can get it myself." The man said, trying to restrain himself from shouting at the child. He had to remain calm and responsible - like Desmond Sycamore should be. At times like this, however ,when he risked losing all that he had worked towards, he couldn't help but feel his temper begin to simmer inside of him.

But Luke had already scurried over to the side of the bed, disregarding the professor's protests.

"Luke! Please!" Sycamore called, reaching out his arm with his hand outstretched. He was usually softly-spoken but this was a cry of both anger and desperation. He knew he had to stay calm. He kept repeating it in his head - if he stayed calm he could sort this out; but the second he saw Luke just metres away from uncovering his hidden identity, that mentality went out the window. The professor ran after the boy, but it was too late. He had already seen.

Luke raised his eyebrow, giving Sycamore a brief look of confusion before picking up the item. He was expecting it to be a piece of paper - some sort of secret love confession maybe (adults seemed to always be making them and get angry when they were read), possibly a letter from a close friend or even just a puzzle that he was afraid to admit he was stuck on - but it wasn't.

"A mask."

Sycamore froze. It would have been one thing if Layton had found it, but Luke? How was he meant to react? All he knew was that he wasn't going to be like Bronev and take his anger out on an innocent child.

Luke looked down at the mask in his hands and frowned slightly, but then let out a giggle. "The professor told you about Descole, didn't he? He was completely evil - not like you, professor." Luke held the mask up to his own face and turned to look at himself in the mirror, pulling a few faces. "He wears a mask just like this."

There was silence.

"You try it on!" The boy said, and when Sycamore declined hastily, Luke held the mask up to the stunned professor's face instead.

"You look a bit like him with this mask on..." Luke whispered, beginning to feel a little unnerved. He paused to properly observe the man in front of him. "Now that I think about it I'm sure he even wears shoes just like that." The resemblance was uncanny.

The professor stared back almost sadly for a moment, then let out a pathetic excuse of a fake laugh. "Luke, you..." he gave another fake laugh - this one was even more uncomfortable than the last, "You cannot be serious?"

Something clicked in Luke's brain. "And your voice! And that's why you know so much about Misthallery, and Ambrosia and... and the professor!" He couldn't help but shout now, his tone a mixture of shock and determination. His glass of water smashed onto the floor as he declared: "Descole! It's you!"