sorry, don't really care because my life's running on acoustic.

Chapter One - Departing from Nostalgia, Yet to Arrive at another Scene.

Wilbur had just recently parted from Phil and Techno, at his 'old home'.

He still had their phone numbers, in case if he needed anything or just wanted check up on them.

He will most likely be calling or messaging them via discord or so just to keep up-to-date, however.

(He's actually going to do this just because he will miss them, but he was too salty to approve.)

He had just set foot in his new house; a cottage by far, implanted in the middle of nowhere.

It was tranquil, and the nearest village was a couple of kilometres away if you'd walk.

It was perfect - no nuisances, no disturbances and lots of peace and inspiration.

This may just be his haven.

Located on the left, behind the petite house was a stream, rocks jaggedly placed everywhere and salmon flopping about.

It was quite serene, especially the naturalistic ambience filling the scene whole.

On the right was a forest, deers and wild birds prancing and gliding about.

It was covered in lush greenery, vines almost overgrown.

The vines had even managed to take dominance over the cottage.

Wilbur didn't mind; it just helped improve the scene.

He was going to enjoy this.

He continued further into the house, examining the place.

Sheets had been scattered everywhere, and old, antique furniture were surprisingly still intact.

Some of the furniture were covered in wrappings of plastic, presumably to preserve its quality.

The place was dusty, but it was no problem.

He could dust it later.

He looked in the kitchen, which was connected to the living room.

The tiles were dirty, but he could wash and scrape the dirt and mold off.

The tiles were laced in mosaic patterns, littering the whole floor.

It was a work of art, he assured.

He then headed up the stairs to be welcomed by creaking in the wooden floorboards.

Wilbur would have to investigate into it later.

He continued down the hallway, slowly opening each of the four doors, one by one.

The first room he was greeted with was the bathroom; spiders littering the corners.

There were even a few ants.

Wilbur hates to admit it, but the few ants becoming what was a million was suit to be exterminated by an anteater.

The disgusting little things finally proved worth, but it was fine.

As long as food isn't spilt, the ant population would soon go extinct.

He closed the door, his gaze then set onto the door opposite the bathroom.

He opened it to be greeted by a cozy room, bed already placed and walls covered in a bleached yellow.

He had admired yellow, it simply filled him with warmth.

He was pleased to see his iconic colour plastered onto the wall.

At the bottom, wooden planks (presumable a darker oak, or spruce) had been formed in an outwards-extending arch.

It added more of a comforting feeling to the room.