Cameraman Never Dies

Judge sat in his throne-like chair, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest, as he waited for Lucifer's call, mentally. The silence in the room was almost uncomfortable, but it gave him time to think — which, in his case, wasn't always the best thing. His thoughts had the tendency to spiral out of control as he always thinks of all the possible ways this could go.

Like right now.

His mind kept circling around one particularly irritating question: How exactly does this "resurrection" thing work? And if Clio's annoying popcorn-munching reveal about "Lucifer's victim" was anything to go by, it wasn't your average 'come back from the dead' situation. No, it must be worse — time could be involved.

"Great. Just great," Judge muttered to himself. "Time-travel shenanigans. As if my life wasn't complicated enough."

He had a solid suspicion that déjà vu wasn't just his own delusions or a bad memory. No, this was something much more concrete. It was real déjà vu— the kind where time rewound itself without anyone (except Judge and maybe a select few) noticing. And that "select few" included Selena, who had also experienced those weird flashes of familiarity. That was clue number one.

Clue number two? He had come from another world, or was at least reincarnated. That had to play a part in why he could sense the distortion. His mind wasn't locked into the timeline like a native of this world; it was tied up to something beyond it. So, when time rewound, he noticed. He felt it.

Another small possibility ran through his mind, they both were appointed as cameramen in this world, and being affected by a shift in the world's running was not something that should affect a cameraman.

Which makes sense considering he had recorded two stories before and was more acquainted with his role, while Selena had none and did not feel it as effective as him.

The question that was bubbling at the back of his mind now was how much time could this victim rewind. Minutes? Hours? Days?

That made Judge uneasy. If the person could reset time over and over, wouldn't they have a ridiculous advantage? Not just against their enemies, but against... everything?

Then came the truly anxious thought: What if the victim wasn't just rewinding time, but rewinding it endlessly every time they were about to die? What are the consequences? Rewinding time won't be just as easy as asking out your high school crush.@@novelbin@@

"worst she could say is no", Words that could break friendships.

Judge sat up straighter, his fingers pausing in their drumming. That thought was unsettling in a way he hadn't anticipated. If this person could trigger some kind of loop, what would that mean for him? For the Studio?

The Studio was, for all intents and purposes, his safe space. His pocket dimension where he had total control. If he were to summon the victim into the Studio and kill them there, would the loop still trigger? Could the world itself rewind while the victim was inside the Studio and outside of their dimension?

Or would Judge be trapped in another time loop, just inside this dimension, with time resetting every time the victim died?

He could almost imagine it now: an eternal cycle of killing the same person over and over again, with both of them trapped in a never-ending tango of life, death, and rewound timelines.

Would he even remember it? Or would he be stuck like a broken record, unaware that he was reliving the same events, forever? He could not put his hopes into his cameraman trait.

That idea of repeating things sent an uncomfortable shiver down his spine.

"Okay, okay," Judge said, talking to no one in particular, as he often did when he was thinking too hard. "Calm down. Think it through. Worst-case scenario, you're in an endless loop, which is only hypothetical. Best-case scenario... well, best-case, I suppose you just kill the person and move on with your life."

He rubbed his head. Why did it have to be time magic? He could deal with fireballs and lightning strikes, but time? But that was another level of headache.

Just then, his train of thought was interrupted by a faint buzz in his mind. Lucifer was finally calling. About time. Pun intended (Read again if you did not get the pun).

Judge closed his eyes and focused, connecting with Lucifer's mind through their link. "Go ahead, Lucifer. What's the situation?"

The response came quickly, but Lucifer's tone had shifted from his usual dramatic air to something more tense, as if he wasn't entirely sure what was happening himself. "Recorder, I've reached the target... but something feels off."

"Define 'off,' " Judge said, his tone was flat. Of course, something would feel off. This was a time-turner they were dealing with. He hadn't expected this to be easy.

"I don't know. The girl is still normal, but the man— a faint, creepy, and utterly disgusting ether is surrounding him, it is like there are many of 'him' inside him... like many echoes.

He also seems to be different from his usual self that I have been observing for the past couple of days. He is acting scared and is trying to persuade the little girl to not head to the forest, which is something he does not usually do."

Judge's mind raced again. Creepy ether? Was that somehow connected to the side effects of turning back time? Maybe they are eating away at his life. Was he willing to go that far for a little girl? And what about echoes?

Was that his past reality where he was killed?

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Okay, Lucifer. New plan. Don't kill anyone just yet."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. "Recorder, What do you mean 'don't kill anyone'? That's... sort of what I do." His tone was still respectful, Judge wondered if everyone he had been in contact with would suddenly turn sarcastic.

Judge pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes, I know, Lucifer. But humor me for a moment. Just do what I asked earlier. Deliver the message that I want to talk with them. Then, after you've made contact, tell me."

Lucifer didn't sound happy about it. "Yes sir. But dare may I ask, what is Sir Recorder trying to do with them?"

Judge rolled his eyes. "You only have to do as you are told. Now go."

As the mental link faded, Judge's mind buzzed with even more questions than before. Creepy ether? Echoes of reality? The victim resurrecting? Time loops? He hated this.

The more he learned, the less he seemed to know.

He stood up and stretched, pacing around the room. He needed answers, but there was no way to get them without poking at the situation directly. Still, he couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that he was about to step into something far more complicated than he'd bargained for.

For now, he'd wait for Lucifer's next call. And in the meantime, he'd try not to think too hard about the fact that, for all he knew, time itself might be out to get him.

"Great. I've officially become paranoid," Judge muttered. Then, with a sigh, he added, "Why did I only consider writing a script for him and not ACTUALLY do that?."

He then proceeded to summon a paper and a pen, he had to show the way for Lucifer to act, and maybe capture a worthy story from this encounter.