There was only one thing that seemed to cloud up the boy’s mind. 

It was pure hatred. 

He glanced around the room, checking if he really was in a room with pastel wallpaper, smelling of honeysuckle and a vexed lady wearing a blue tunic and jeans. What rotten luck. This was something he should’ve sensed long before.

He abused a stupendous amount of power.

But there was no use dwelling on it. 

The boy attempted to click the remote and set to prevent this future. Frowning, he found there was nothing in her pocket. The lady coughed and waved the visibly broken device in the air.

"In reality," she began. "There is no perfect fix. Or at least until now."