Philip stopped at the edge of a moss-covered clearing that shimmered faintly, as if someone had sprinkled it with discount stardust. He crouched down, touching the surface. It was warm. And vibrating.
"Ah, perfect. The ground vibrates. All that's missing is it starting to talk to me so I can complete my Despair Bingo."
A low sound echoed through the trees — something between a snap and a whistle. Philip froze, eyes darting.
"Look, whoever you are — if you're a monster, please appear calmly. If you're a ghost, ignore me. And if you're the universe… fix yourself, please."
He moved forward, pushing branches aside with an expression of pure fear and stubbornness. The terrain started to slope upward, each step a potential death trap.
"Ah, of course. Uphill. Because suffering is never flat — it always comes with terrain and slippery moss."
A louder crack. Philip's heart skipped.
"Okay… that's a big creature."
Still, he pressed on. He couldn't go back empty-handed. He could already imagine the debriefing meeting: 'Philip, you were the only technician sent to the field and brought no report.'
"And what am I supposed to say? 'Sorry, almost died hugging a tree'? Nope, I'm finishing this even if it kills me with dignity."
Suddenly, the ground gave way. Philip screamed as he tumbled down a slope of roots and leaves, flailing helplessly until he slammed into a fallen trunk.
"Aaaaaaah, my spine, my knee, and my will to live!" he groaned, lying sideways and staring at the spinning sky. "That's it. The first tech support agent of the magical kingdom dies in an ecological accident. Glorious."
It took a few seconds for him to notice the air felt different — colder, stiller. At the center of the small clearing, a faint blue light pulsed — a translucent shape, almost like a portal.
Philip limped toward it, half crawling, half grumbling."There it is. The dimensional bug. The source of all chaos. Genius, Philip, pure genius."
He knelt, studying the glow. Magical ripples spread out like water touched by the wind. He reached out — and felt… nothing. No warmth, no energy.
"Hmm… strange. Maybe it's deactivated. Or maybe it's pretending. Wouldn't be the first time the universe made me look like an idiot."
Before he could continue, a small voice behind him said:"Daddy, I think he's messing with our homework!"
Philip froze. Slowly, he turned his head — and there they were: two elves, one stern-looking adult and a child holding a glowing blue crystal. The "portal" was just an illusion created by the gem.
The adult elf stared at him, baffled."Human? What are you doing in my magical backyard?"
Philip blinked several times."Backyard…? This is a backyard? I almost died in a backyard?"
The elf crossed his arms."We're practicing illusion duplication. My son needs to learn how to make creatures vanish and return."
Philip opened and closed his mouth, trying to process that."Wait… vanishing and reappearing creatures…" — he pointed a finger, indignant. — "So the whole chaos, the castle panic, the urgent report, the 'great mystery of disappearing monsters'… was your kid's homework?"
The elf looked offended."Basic training magic, human. The Council should know about it."
"The Council? The Council sent me out here with no magic, I almost died twice, got attacked by branches, wind, and anxiety — to find out it was… this?"
The elven child looked guilty."I'm sorry, sir… I just wanted to make the bunnies blink."
Philip took a deep breath, fighting the urge to scream."The bunnies blink… wonderful. Excellent use of magic. Meanwhile, I'm out here looking like a lunatic in the woods, talking to myself, thinking I uncovered the dimensional collapse of the century."
The adult elf cleared his throat."Would you like some herbal infusion? You seem… exhausted."
Philip raised one trembling hand, eyes hollow."No, no… I'll keep the pain. To remember the collective stupidity that brought me here."
He turned toward the path home, limping, leaves stuck in his hair, dignity shattered."I should sue this kingdom. Seriously. Physical and emotional damages."
The invisible elf — who finally reappeared out of nowhere — floated beside him, barely holding back laughter."So… did you solve the mystery?"
Philip didn't even look at her."I did, yes. Reality is stupid, and so am I. Case closed."
"Should I put that in the official report?"
"Write this down: 'They weren't monsters. They were illusory bunnies, and my dignity was lost halfway down the hill.'"
The walk back was filled with muttering and self-pity. Philip tripped over roots and cursed every step."'Oh, Philip, you're the only one who can solve this issue!'" — he mimicked his goblin supervisor's voice. — "Of course! Who needs wizards when you've got a magicless man with zero sense of direction?"
When the castle finally came into view, he felt something between relief and hatred."I'm never setting foot in a forest again. If anyone wants field support, they can open a ticket and wait five to ten business days."
He turned to the elf, narrowing his eyes."By the way… weren't you following me the whole time? Because I didn't see you. How did you get here so fast?"
The elf averted her gaze, whistling innocently."I… uh… took an ethereal shortcut."
Philip frowned, crossing his arms."An ethereal shortcut, huh? Sounds like the name of a cheap tracking app."
She shrugged, smiling mischievously."Let's just say I left a… tiny marker. Nothing magical, of course."
Philip blinked slowly."A tracker. You put a tracker on me."
"A field locator, technically."
"Oh, wonderful. My human coworkers used those to find lost food delivery guys in the city. Now I'm the interdimensional equivalent of a crystal courier."
The elf chuckled awkwardly."Well, if it makes you feel better, it worked. I knew exactly where you were when you fell off that cliff."
"Oh, great!" — he threw his hands in the air. — "So instead of helping, you just watched the show live?"
"I was cheering for you."