Judge reached for the Flux Core, and it dissolved.
Not exploded. Not evaporated. Just... blinked out of existence. Like a flame snuffed by an unseen hand.
He stood frozen. Then blinked.
Still gone.
He reached out, flailing at the space it had occupied, as if maybe, just maybe, it would be hiding behind a trick of the light. It wasn't.
"...You have got to be fluxing kidding me."
His legs buckled, and he sat, hard, laughing hollowly into the empty clearing.
The core had been an illusion. A cruel trick played by the zone, the forest, or his own starving brain. He didn't know which was worse.
The growl from his stomach reminded him which problem was currently worse.
It had been days. Or hours. Or centuries. Time did somersaults in this place. He had no rations at all, and everything that should have been edible had either fused with metal, sported spikes, or tried to eat him first. He had killed things, yes. He had fought and bled and survived.
So he made a decision.
