"Sigh…"

Judge collapsed into his throne like a man who had just lost an argument with a chair. Sure, he could probably take on all those rabbits... if he really, really tried.

If he stretched his imagination, maybe he'd even win. But victory at what cost? Eternal shame in the afterlife for being known as the guy who fought rabbits and lost half a lung.

Because honestly, was there any glory in being mauled to death by fluffy ears and twitchy noses? No statue was ever built for a hero who shouted, "Tell my story! The rabbits… got me…"

Besides, there was the factor of the unknown. And "unknown" in this case probably meant fangs. Or kung fu. Or, knowing his luck, rabbits with a union and dental insurance. Possibly even matching uniforms.

Thinking back, Judge realized he really should've just teleported straight to his mother instead of running after her like a complete lunatic. The sight of him scrambling through the trees must have been embarrassing to watch. Some future chronicler would probably paint it as noble determination, but the reality was closer to sweaty desperation and twigs in his hair.

Honestly, what was he thinking? The usual him would've done that instantly, no fuss, no sweaty running involved. It was one of his few reliable tricks, press the magic button, skip the jogging montage, arrive with dignity intact.

That was the whole point of having teleportation — skip the jogging, skip the blisters, skip the "chasing after Mom through dangerous forests" routine, and most importantly, skip the entire "flux zone" arc. Nobody had time for that. If stories were written like this, readers would riot.

And yet… he didn't. He didn't teleport. He actually ran. Like some desperate apprentice with no tricks at all. Which naturally led to the very painful set of events and a question that now stabbed at him like an irritating splinter.

Why did he forget to do that?

He pressed his fingers to his temples as a dull headache bloomed, the kind that said, "Congratulations, your brain has decided to betray you."

He could feel there was something at the edge of his memory, something he was supposed to remember, something important. No, not just important, equally important as saving his mother. Which was insane. Because how could anything compete with "Don't let your mom die" on the priority list?

Yet there it was, sitting smugly in the back of his mind, refusing to show itself. Something he had forgotten… and his brain had the audacity to act like it was protecting him by giving him a headache instead of answers. Very considerate, in the way being punched is technically a massage.

"Let's see…" Judge muttered, trying to juggle his memories like a street performer who hadn't practiced in months. "What else did I forget?"

And... oh boy.

The answer was: a lot. Enough to make him question whether his skull was housing a brain or a sieve.

Turns out his memory was basically a leaking bucket. For starters, he had completely forgotten to call for meetings. Yep. Just… forgot.

Thankfully, the meetings were always on irregular schedules anyway, so technically it wasn't a disaster. More like… professional-level procrastination disguised as flexibility. He could practically hear himself spinning it: "No, I didn't forget, I'm just unpredictable. Keeps everyone sharp!"

Then again… there was the teleportation thing. He should've done it the moment he scraped together the tiniest speck of ether inside the flux zone. Just one zap, and boom... problem solved. But no, apparently his brain had decided, "Running is more fun, let's do cardio today."

Some part of him might even have whispered, "Build character!" which was unforgivable.

And if that wasn't bad enough, there was the whole Selena situation. Through the contract's power, he could've tried locating her. Simple. Effective. Obvious. But nope, he had skipped that too.

For someone already forgetful, that one might just qualify as his grand champion blunder of the year. A gold medal performance in the sport of mental failure.

Which circled him back to the same infuriating question:

Why was he forgetting things? And what else had he forgotten?

The headache that had been politely tapping at the back of his skull earlier now decided to go full marching band. Slowly, unbearably, it grew until Judge toppled to the ground, clutching his head, curling inward like a very pained shrimp. A shrimp with terrible decision-making skills.

He couldn't even scream, didn't even feel like screaming, but the pain was so real it practically had a personality of its own, loud, obnoxious, and probably with terrible fashion sense. If suffering could wear a hat, this one would.

———

Alex could've sworn Judge had been standing right there in front of those trees a heartbeat ago. Blink once, gone. Like a bad magic trick without the courtesy of applause. The kind of trick where the magician disappears, but the audience is left holding the bill.

Now, Judge teleporting wasn't exactly shocking news; the boy had a habit of popping in and out like an impatient ghost. But usually, teleportation left behind at least something, a faint trail of ether, a little whiff of "yes, someone just broke physics here." Unless, of course, the teleporter was insanely good at the craft.

Which Judge wasn't supposed to be... "Supposed" to be.

Alex had used a faint beast's call to shoo away the rabbits that had been circling Judge before he vanished. Worked like a charm. And sure enough, once the furry mob scattered, he found it, lingering ether. Faint, almost impossible to sense from afar, but definitely there.

The problem? The trail went absolutely nowhere. It was like Judge had teleported here… from here. A perfect little circle of nonsense, like the boy had just hit "refresh" on reality.

That left Alex with exactly two options, both equally absurd: either Judge had somehow pulled off some ridiculously advanced teleportation craft, which shouldn't even be possible, or…

"A separate dimension…" Alex muttered aloud, his voice caught between disbelief and irritation.

Because really, those were his only two leads, and neither of them sounded even remotely sane.