Her voice called to him. "Desmond…"

"Desmond?" Hershel was the one who him shook awake.

He jolted upright, his gaze darting to the cabin doorway where Flora, Luke and Aurora were jumbled. "Where is she?" he mumbled.

"Who? Katia?" Luke yawned, looking around with Remi still dozing on his shoulder. Desmond shook his head hazily.

"You were calling for someone– that's what woke us all up," Flora informed him. "Were you dreaming?" Again, Desmond shook his head. He never dreamed.

"I had a weird dream," Luke chatted as Hershel helped Desmond to his feet. "While we were in the tunnel, I saw part of the Molentary Express switch tracks—"

"That's right!" Desmond threw off his brother's steadying hand. He glared at Hershel. "Did you sneak into the deluxe carriage, knowing full well it would take you to the phantom town, while we would go to Luxenbelle?"

"Of course that wasn't my intention," Hershel insisted. He glanced guiltily at the floor. "I wanted to inform you all of my findings… when I fell asleep."

Flora assured him, "We believe you—"

"FOOOOLSENSE!"

Desmond gasped as the train's conductor danced past the cabin. "You there!" he shouted, shoving past the dazed Aurora to get into the hall. "Did you see a woman out here?"

The conductor stopped mid-scream and shrugged. "You mean that purple-haired chick? She just exited the train. Now if you'll 'scuse me, I've gotta help my uncle." He jogged away before Desmond could protest. With a huff, Desmond drew back into the cabin. He heard Hershel hum.

"It seems we've reached our destination: Folsense."

Desmond frowned, firstly at Hershel and then at the window. Why was it so dark outside? They couldn't possibly still be in the tunnel… He slid the window open and stuck his head out, savouring the rush of cold air. Yes, he was definitely alert now. He wasn't imagining the full moon in the night sky, when it had been broad daylight what felt like an hour ago, or the train pulling into a dreary station.

"This place is spooky!" Flora clung to Hershel's sleeve as they stepped off the train.

Luke quivered. "Y-yeah." He tried to catch Aurora's hand, but she was fixated on one of the many pictures smothering the station's walls. Luke wondered, "Are these pictures of the town?"

"Not all of them…" Desmond squinted at a rural-scene of four horses, somehow finding it familiar.

"Desmond," Hershel prompted, "we'd best press on."

"Best not to leave anyone behind," Desmond agreed, a tad sarcastically.

As they crept through a pair of creaky doors, Desmond suddenly felt dizzy. Was he… dreaming again? No, the others appeared to experience similar effects.

"What was that?" Luke cried.

Hershel rushed through a single door before them. He was swallowed by of kaleidoscope of light.

"HERSHEL! Will you STOP running off without us…!" Desmond's shout faded when he saw what had manifested in front of their eyes. A town, adorned in fluorescent lights. (It was more of an eyesore than Monte d'Or.)

There was barely time to be surprised before a second wave of vertigo struck them. Turning, they saw the station was now lit up like the rest of the town.

"It… It can't be!" Aurora gasped, staring up at the station. She was paler than when they pulled her from the ice in Froenborg. Luke and Flora were also shocked by the appearance of the town, but not like this.

Desmond looked from her to the roof of the station. "Is something wrong, Aurora?"

"I saw— I thought I saw…" She bit her lip.

"It's okay…" Flora petted her back. "What did you see?"

"Perhaps we should get you to a hotel," Desmond intervened.

The hotel they found was rather lacklustre compared to its neighbouring establishments. (Even Alphonse Dalston would have turned his nose up at the place!) Aurora was not complaining, however. She was curled up on the bed, her hands clasped over her heart.

Hershel, Flora and even Luke left the room, so that Desmond could speak with her privately.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Not right now, thank you. I just need some rest…" Wearily, warily, she gazed out of the window behind the bed.

Desmond went to shut the curtains. "If there is something— anything— bothering you, you can talk to me about it."

"I know, Professor."

Though he didn't want to pressure her, he paused at the door. "I've been feeling a bit under the weather myself lately and… seeing strange things. I don't know whether it's the town playing tricks on us or not, but I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

"How's Aurora?" Luke asked when he was outside.

"Tired." It wasn't a lie.

Desmond opted to stay at the hotel while Hershel, Flora and Luke gathered information around town. He needed to watch over Aurora, especially if Don Paolo was still lurking around. Aside from this, Desmond didn't feel he was currently in the right mindset to assist Hershel. Distressing as it must have been for Aurora, he took some small comfort in knowing he wasn't the only one suffering from these dreams.

Was that what they really were— 'dreams'? He couldn't resist inquiring to the hotel clerk if any other guests had checked in recently.

"You'll have to be more specific than that," the clerk said. "Can you give me a name or a description?"

"Last name: Sharpace," Desmond replied. Then he realised that if there was the slightest hope Mira was alive, she would have kept her name hidden. "A tall woman, with a dark complexion and eyes that can pierce you where you stand." (If it wasn't Mira, could it be a relative of hers?)

The clerk denied ever meeting such a woman and wondered wryly if Desmond had seen a ghost.

"Don't be ridiculous," Desmond snapped. He would rather believe the impossible notion that she had survived after all these years.

Shrugging, the clerk explained that Folsense was famous for its ghost sightings, along with the vampire living at Herzen Castle.

Desmond could confirm the existence of mechanical mummies, a giant manatee, a reborn Ambrosian queen, and an ancient civilization responsible for creating sentient beings. But he was certain that ghosts and vampires were nothing more than the superstitions of a desperate town. Could one of the residents be behind the terrors he and Aurora had experienced?

He was about to share his theories with Aurora, when Inspector Chelmey stomped into the hotel. His constable meekly trailed in after him.

Chelmey was griping about a bulldog. Despite Desmond's efforts to keep a straight face, the man rounded on him.

"Think that's funny, do you?"

"Hardly."

Chelmey leered at him. "What do you know about this box—?" He dug around in his coat pocket, but cursed when he pulled out the scrap of a photo. "That blooming mongrel...!"

"I take it you're referring to the Elysian Box," Desmond guessed.

"Aha! So, you're aware of its true name-"

"You'll recall that my brother and I have been investigating the box as well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must check on my daughter-"

"One— one minute, please, Sir," the constable halted him. "Might you be the brother of Hershel Layton?"

"Desmond Sycamore, yes..."

The constable looked at Chelmey. "Didn't Superintendent Grosky warn us to keep an eye on Hershel Layton's brother? We received word from headquarters a little while ago."

Desmond retained a blank expression. "What?" Since Bronev's arrest, he had been on civil terms with Grosky.

"Yes, just what are you talking about, Barton?" Chelmey growled. "You neglected to mention this earlier."

"B-begging your pardon, Inspector. I didn't want to raise the suspicions of our criminal here-" Barton pointed at Desmond. "—Jean Descole!"

"That's a heavy accusation to make, Barton, but I suppose we can't take any chances." Before Desmond could protest, Chelmey had him in handcuffs. "Desmond Sycamore, I'm arresting you under the suspicion of being Jean Descole! Not only for your previous crimes, but for the murder of Andrew Schrader."

Any dramatic attempts of escape would only cement Chelmey's allegations.

"I would never," Desmond simply protested. "Dr. Schrader was my brother's mentor—"

"Do you have an alibi from the time of the murder?"

"Y-yes, he does!" Aurora flew down the lobby's stairs, frowning. The pang of guilt Desmond felt for disturbing her was eclipsed by his pride. "He was at home with me when Professor Layton discovered Dr. Schrader's body."

"In that case, we'll hear what Layton has to say," Chelmey decided. He handcuffed Desmond to himself and they waited until Hershel, Luke and Flora returned.

Desmond offered his brother an apologetic look. (Perhaps he should have continued the investigation without him after all.) However, Hershel was adamant Chelmey's photo would lead them to the Elysian Box— and the true culprit.

He and the teenagers, including Aurora, ventured out again to retrieve the missing photo pieces.

Desmond had no choice but to sit tight with the police officers. To his relief, the hotel clerk came to provide them with some tea and biscuits. Chelmey grabbed a fistful of biscuits, but Barton declined. The inspector proceeded to interrogate Desmond through a mouthful of crumbs about Misthallery, Ambrosia, and other locations linked to the Azran and Descole.

"Of course I've studied remnants of the Azran," Desmond huffed. "I am an archaeologist."

Barton squeaked, "So was Dr. Schrader—"

"What is the meaning of this?" Mr. Beluga marched into the lobby, followed by Sammy Thunder and Katia.

"Professor Layton asked us all to meet here," Katia clarified. She approached Desmond, holding a hand across her chest. "I wanted to apologize for leaving you on the train earlier. There's someone I have to find…" (Was she chasing after visions as well?)

Chelmey stood between her and Desmond. "No one is going anywhere until we've gotten to the bottom of this case!"

"Quite right." Hershel swept inside. He gave Desmond a confident smile. "But first, I think we've all earned a cup of tea."

Five minutes later, everyone was sitting down, peering at the photo of the Elysian Box exhibited by Luke. Still, the central piece of the photo was absent.

"That's it!" Beluga hissed, elbowing Sammy. "The Herzen family emblem!"

Hershel gestured from the photo to his brother. "Desmond, what do you make of its design?"

Desmond offered, "It resembles a toadstool—?"

"Looks like a frog to me," Chelmey grunted.

"I'd say it's more along the lines of a goat," Barton piped up.

"Don't patronize me, Barton!"

"No, please do elaborate, Barton," Hershel said airily. "The box's emblem indeed depicts a goat, but we are missing the photo scrap containing its eyes."

Aurora glared icily at Barton. "Most people would confuse the emblem for a frog… You, however, were certain it's a goat." Barton gulped.

"You must've seen the real box before," Luke added.

Hershel inquired, "Who are you really?"

Desmond shouldn't have been surprised (or slightly impressed) when Don Paolo discarded his disguise.

"Curse you, Layton! And you, Descole—"

He was cut off by Flora. "You brute— trying to pin this on my uncle!" She threw Hershel's tea over him.

"YOOOWWW!"

Sammy winced. "Oooh, burn."

Chelmey demanded through barred teeth, "What have you done with Barton?"

Don Paolo shook the scalding wet sleeves of his coat, stamping his feet. "Don't think you've won! I'm closer than ever to unlocking the box's secret, and the Herzen treasure…"

"ANSWER ME!" Chelmey took a step towards the villain, only to recall he was still cuffed to Desmond. "HE'S GOING TO GET AWAY!"

"Don't you have the key?" Desmond drawled.

Fuming, Chelmey removed the handcuffs and jabbed a finger at him. "This isn't over, Sycamore." He charged out after Don Paolo.

Desmond rubbed his wrists with a sigh. "Thank you for proving my innocence…" (At least, when it came to Dr. Schrader's death.) Aurora rushed over to hug him.

"Don Paolo was behind everything after all," Luke said. "Poor Dr. Schrader… and Barton…"

"I have no doubt Inspector Chelmey will find him, safe and sound," Layton assured them.

"Look at what Don Paolo dropped!" Flora stooped to pick up none other than the Elysian Box. "I wonder how it fit in his pocket?"

Mr. Beluga was positive the box belonged to him, despite the complaints of Sammy and the hotel clerk. Katia hovered next to the three of them as they argued, looking hopefully at Hershel.

"I can't believe you nearly got taken away… over some treasure," Aurora whispered, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry for the stress it must have caused you," Desmond soothed her. "Are you feeling better now?"

"I didn't… see anything when we went out searching for the photograph pieces." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I was mostly frightened of what you would think. I still am…"

"I would never think badly of you, Aurora." After everything he— Descole had done, she was the light of his life. "Can you please tell me what it was?"

"A... a golem."