Cameraman Never Dies

Judge had carefully set the stage, laying out all the pieces, and now it was time to reel in the information he sought. Clara, whether she realized it or not, was Percival's greatest vulnerability, and Judge intended to exploit that.

The final act was about to begin, and repairing the shattered remnants of their lives could wait— after all, what was a little chaos if it brought about the truth?

"But... I can help you, you know," Judge said, his voice aimed at Percival but with a calculated undertone meant for Clara's ears. "I can free you from the cost of using time."

Of course, it was a promise Judge had no intention— or even ability— of keeping. But manipulation was an art, and in his hands, it became a masterpiece.

His ethics? Those were irrelevant. Honesty wasn't a virtue in his world; the truth was only useful when twisted to fit his needs.

The word "help" hung in the air like a balloon, drawing attention from all corners of the room. Even Lucifer, usually as stoic and numb as a statue, tilted his head ever so slightly at the mention of it, though he quickly masked any surprise.

Clara, predictably, was the first to respond. "Help Percival?... How?" Her voice was fragile, trembling on the thin line between hope and despair. "Please..." She tried to stop crying, but the tears had a life of their own, spilling over her cheeks uncontrollably.

Seeing her break down in front of him, Percival— who until now had been mostly silent— couldn't resist looking up at Judge. His expression was one of defeat. After all, he had never signed up for this madness of bending time itself.

His life had been a string of poor decisions, but never had he imagined he would end up like this— entangled in powers beyond his understanding, with Clara at the center of it all.

Percival was on the verge of a breakdown, too. He could feel the corrupt ether slowly creeping through his veins. It was a toxin that was transforming him into something monstrous— just one or two more time reversals, and it would be over. He would become a monster, beyond saving.

"I could stop him from turning time," Judge continued, addressing Clara with that same devilish confidence, then turning his head back to Percival. "But I'm not feeling generous enough to give it away for free. What do you think? Is it worth something to you?"

The silence that followed was thick with tension. Percival's eyes narrowed, anger bubbling beneath the surface. He was trying his best to contain it, but his voice betrayed him when he finally spoke.

"What do you want in return?" His tone was rough, edged with a growing rage. "I don't have anything that would be of use to someone like you."

Judge smiled beneath his mask, the smile that never reached his eyes but always left others on edge. This was playing out exactly as he had anticipated.

"Oh, you have more than enough," Judge replied smoothly. "You only have to answer a few questions for me, and I'll consider helping you. It's a simple exchange, really. If your answers are useful, I'll fix this little... problem of yours. And if they are not...

well... let's say you are not getting a cure."

Percival hesitated. He didn't have much information—nothing that seemed worth trading for something as monumental as time itself. But Judge could see the wheels turning in the man's head, his desperation clawing at him as he struggled to find a way out.

Judge, ever the master manipulator, kept reading Percival like a book. The man's face betrayed his thoughts, and Judge's enhanced cognition allowed him to analyze the situation at breakneck speed. He pieced together what Percival couldn't quite say aloud.

First, it was clear that Percival had no idea how he had turned back time. It must have happened when he died, likely without his understanding. That meant some higher power or entity was involved, perhaps orchestrating the time reversal from the shadows. But from the confusion on Percival's face, he had no clue who or what that might be.

Second, it was apparent that Percival was weak—dangerously so. A low-level assassin could take him out for the cost of a few sten.

Whoever had hired him either had grasped that Percival could turn back time but did not know how it worked and wanted to kill him instantly. Or worse, they were trying to turn back time as much as possible and corrupt his ether. Judge prayed it wasn't the latter, but deep down, his gut told him it was exactly that.

After organizing his thoughts, Judge asked his first question, his voice steady and demanding. "When was the first time you turned back time? And where were you when it happened?"

Percival hesitated, then spoke slowly, his voice carrying the weight of his recent suffering. "I died for the first time... it was an explosion at the research center. Not more than two weeks ago."@@novelbin@@

His tone, though bitter, was not entirely hostile. It was more as though he had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him. Pride flickered faintly in his eyes, but it was fading, leaving only the hollow shell of a man who had lost too much.

Percival continued, "When I returned, I found myself in the same lab where I had died. The day before, I had been working there. It was... confusing. I had lashed out and acted like a madman. Miss Mina confined me for questioning— "

Judge's sharp eyes caught onto the name, and his hand shot up, halting Percival mid-sentence. "Wait. Repeat that name."

A cold knot twisted in Judge's chest, recognition sparking from the back of his mind. That name... Mina... He had heard it before, long ago. But that couldn't be right. She was dead.

Wasn't she?

Even Lucifer seemed momentarily startled by the mention of the name, though he quickly regained his composure, his face a mask of indifference once more.

"Miss Mina," Percival confirmed, his confusion deepening. "She's the head researcher of the artificial ether creation project."

Judge's mind raced. His enhanced cognition kicked into overdrive as he processed this new information. 'Artificial ether creation project?' It was too familiar. Too close to his own ethercraft, 'nihility.' Both had been born from attempts to replicate artificial ether. The coincidence was too large to ignore.

'Heh,' He sighed, 'This is gonna end with a big plot twist isn't it?'