Orson peered to the truck - Inside where around twenty people from all different walks of life - Doctors, citizens, crinimals, fighters, proffessors, homeless. All of them had wide eyes, all of them were scared. They were clutching their avatars, most of them - anyway. Some eyes showed trauma, some showed anger. But most showed fear. All of them needed a leader, all of them needed a home.
And Orson was going to give them both.
"Right, let's get down to buisness." He stated.
(( Right! Sequel thread is in the process, this thread officially ends here, whoever made this a hot topic - remove this one from the hot topic list and replace it with the sequel thread, or somthing. ))
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