"Maybe some things are better left in the past," Kiteretsu mused, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he tucked the goggles away.
But as Kiteretsu tried to power down the device, the lens began to hum with a high-pitched frequency. The "recorded" image of Butagorida didn't vanish. Instead, the projection grew solid. Now, two Butagoridas stood in the garden—the real one, mouth agape, and the "Past-Butagorida," who was stuck in a loop of tripping over the invisible rake. "Maybe some things are better left in the
The situation spiraled quickly. Every time the Chrono-Lens flickered, another "glitch" appeared: a rainstorm from last Tuesday started falling only on the shed, and a stray cat from three years ago began chasing a butterfly that wasn't there. The neighborhood was becoming a collage of different times. Instead, the projection grew solid
"I agree," Korosuke said, dizzy and wobbling in circles. "But can we use the lens one more time to see where I left my bowl of croquettes five minutes ago?" Every time the Chrono-Lens flickered