Richard rubbed his temples as he sighed. In front of him was a thick book with the title of Gardens of the Moon. It was the first title of Steven's Malazan series with a total of five books already being published.

When I spotted him sitting down with that frustrated look on his face I wanted to laugh. I could tell a few of the other employees working with him did as well. It's been three weeks since Steven gave us the rights to create a game based off his novel series. While that was nice, the best part was seeing the look on the team's face when they started reading the series.

We've all been there, and those of us that experienced the same thing as them couldn't help but laugh. It was nice to see others suffer when they read this series. Because then you knew that you weren't the only one who felt confused, anger, frustrated and every other emotion in between.

"Fuck this series! It makes no sense at all!" Richard shouted in frustration.

"Language man, language," Harold told him after bursting out in laughter.

"I just don't understand anything that's going on. Why did you all say this is a great story? What is so great about it?"

"Take a breather you've been at it for a while now. Once you've taken a break I suggest re-reading it from scratch." Matthew one of the artists that helped design the Kalor faction said.

He was young and attended the same university as Amy, but besides drawing he was an avid reader. Unlike the majority of the team he already read the novel series and had a good understanding of it.

"I don't have time for that, don't you see how big this is. And I have to read all of them to know what plots we should focus on for the game." Richard retorted.

I was just passing by the room when I saw what was happening. It interested me but that was all. The team had twenty million dollars as a budget which I hoped would give us a return three times as much. After I read the first three books three times I only then began to understand a little bit more of the overall story and world. That's when I found out I actually enjoyed reading it and getting close to the characters.

I wasn't sure how they were planning on approaching this from a creators point of view, but I hoped it did Steven's work justice. If so then this game could be huge.

I ended up leaving the building as I had business elsewhere. Today I was visiting my old elementary school to give them a donation. I planned on doing this later but figured I might as well do it now since I'm already here.

After that I was set to meet Dwayne and John Ridley. John was the screen writer for the first movie that would showcase the character Icon. It would be his origin story that lead into where he is today in the present time.

I always imagined the universe would start off a film with Hardware, but I was wrong.

Dwayne and John worked together to rebuild the character in a way to give him more credible threats, without taking anything away from Icons identity as a hero. This was the final version of the script and I couldn't wait to see it. It took a long time to make but this was only a step in the movie-making process.

There was a lot I learned in the time since I arrived in this time period. More than I would have ever learned if I watched videos about creating movies or even video games. For this, I was grateful to whatever strange force brought me back to the past. With that being said, I was even more thankful to my old principal. He was looking younger now, but I knew he would only have this job for a few years longer. Because this school would shut down eventually.

That was something I did not want to see happen. I'm unsure who ran the school but the entire building could use a remodeling. I'd love to do that, but I did not think that was possible. Instead, I was more than happy to donate some items they needed. New text books, better desks, better equipment for the teachers. I was even willing to rebuild their playground, if I was allowed to do that. Whatever they needed to make the environment better for the students, I saw no problem with doing just that.

As I arrived school was still in session, and would be for the next three hours or so. I took a look at the homes across from the elementary school and could tell that these homes had seen better days. The owners of these houses worked all types of hours and did all sorts of jobs, anything they needed to keep a roof over their kid's head and food in their bellies. I should do more than give back to the kids, I should try to help them all out by doing what I can. This might not include providing financial services to these families, but I was more than willing to get the community together for large events. Let the kids have fun and just be kids. Bring music and games, even host a contest with various prizes.

I thought of this all as I walked up to the entrance. This school was so poor that it did not even have proper locks on the door. Meaning anyone could come in whenever they wanted without being let in. No one ever did at least as far as I could recall, but it was still possible. The principal already knew I was coming so when I walked in I felt at ease. His office was right next to the entrance. There was a glass window with the letters principals' office written on it, and behind it were dirty white blinds. I walked into the office and was greeted by the secretary, an older woman with short curly hair that looked to be in her mid-fifties. She was chewing on some gum when she noticed me. Honestly, I could not remember her name even now, so when I looked and saw the nameplate on her desk I was surprised to learn she had the same last name as me.

"Hello, can I do anything for you?" She asked me.

She was pretty carefree, not really worrying if I was here to do any harm. This was not the case for teachers in the future. A lot of them were more afraid of the students than the adults, as school shootings were the talk of the town. This was the case in every state, and the amount of lives lost were immeasurable. 

"Yes, I have an appointment with Mr. Evans." I told her.

"Oh, you are Mr. Scott. A pleasure to meet you, and I want to thank you for what you are doing. Not many people would do what you are doing, you're one of a kind." She told me in a sincere tone.

"Thanks, but I'm sure they would. I just want to give back. Too many grow up without the basics which already puts them behind the others. I'd like to give these kids a chance to see that they can grow up to be successful, to do what they want."

She smiled but said nothing.

"You can step into his office."

I did just that and opened the door to his office. Inside I saw him looking at his computer screen, and when he saw me he dropped whatever he was doing.

"Hey, it's nice to meet you in person. I was just adding your lecture into the schedule for next week so all the teachers know to bring the kids to the gymnasium. Please, sit." Mr. Evans told me.

"No worries, I just came to see the state of things. As I told you before, my grandfather attended this school a while back and it helped shape him into the person he grew up to be. He made many connections here that he took with him into his adulthood, and wanted his children to do the same. So it has been a dream of mines to see this place for myself and show my own appreciation." I told him.

"You did, I even have something to give you." Mr. Evans said as he opened the drawer and pulled out a very old yearbook. "This is old, ancient really. We didn't have color back then, but I found this and wanted to give it to you. This is the year your grandfather graduated and if you search it you'll find his picture, along with many more." For some reason hearing, this shocked me.

I told Mr. Evans who I was, not changing my name at all. Never once did I tell him who my parents were, only that my grandfather, Davis J. Scott attended this school. Which was true, but I did not think he would go out of his way to find a yearbook with my grandfather's pictures in it. Even as an adult I rarely had a chance to see images of my grandfather, there just were not many. Six at most, with one tape that had him on it for a whole minute playing around with my father when he was a baby. That was all. My grandfather died long before I was born.

I grabbed the book and flipped through the pages. The number of students during this year was a vast amount, my grandfather was on the third page in the student section. He kind of looked like me, or should I say I looked like him. Except much less charming and handsome, and he had an afro. I kept turning the pages and saw more pictures of him hanging out with his friends, him on the basketball team, and even one of him in a suit. I laughed at that because his suit was a little too big on him.

"Thanks, really. I couldn't ask for anything better." I told Mr. Evans and I saw his face light up in delight. "If you don't mind, I would like to have a tour of this school. It would broaden my view and will help me better understand the students and what they want."