The mountain continued collapsing long after the underground facility disappeared.
Stone rolled down its slopes in heavy waves, crushing the false mine entrances and burying every road that once led to the Imperial research site.
Dust spread across the valley until the stars faded behind a thick gray curtain.
Rojan remained on one knee, struggling to breathe.
His chest burned every time he pulled air into his lungs.
Blood had dried along the side of his face, and his left leg refused to hold his full weight.
Even so, the pain was not the reason he stayed on the ground.
The man standing near the cliff frightened him far more than the collapsing mountain.
Sōsuke Aizen had arrived in the Cardinal World less than an hour ago.
During that short time, he had survived the destruction of his original body, broken through an authority Cornu had called absolute, crossed the distance between worlds, endured a direct attack from a Phantom, and escaped an underground complex while thousands of tons of stone collapsed around him.
Now he stood beneath the unfamiliar night sky as though he had simply completed a long journey.
Rojan tried to decide what kind of creature could survive all of that.
He could not find an answer.
Aizen looked toward the forest beyond the eastern mountains.
Under the night sky, it appeared like a black sea stretching toward the horizon, but the darkness was alive with magicules.
Hundreds of weak presences moved beneath the trees.
Larger creatures hunted among them, while several territorial monsters remained hidden deeper within the forest.
Far beyond those ordinary presences, something enormous rested beneath layers of containment.
The sealed being did not feel asleep.
It felt bored.
Aizen turned toward Rojan.
“What is that forest called?”
Rojan needed a moment to understand that he was being addressed.
“The Great Forest of Jura.”
“Who governs it?”
“No one.”
Aizen looked back toward the dark horizon.
“No one at all?”
“There are tribes and monster settlements, but there is no single ruler.
Some stronger creatures control small territories, but none of them govern the entire forest.
The nations around Jura usually avoid going too far inside.”
“Why?”
Rojan followed his gaze.
“Because of the Storm Dragon.”
Aizen waited without saying anything else.
Rojan sighed when he realized the explanation was not finished.
“His name is Veldora.
He is one of the True Dragons.
He was sealed inside the forest centuries ago, but his magicules still affect the entire region.
No sane army would risk marching too close to him.”
Aizen’s eyes remained on the forest.
“A dragon remains imprisoned beneath the land, yet entire nations still organize their behavior around his existence.”
“That is what happens when the prisoner can destroy a country.”
“How practical.”
Rojan studied his expression but could not tell whether the words were sincere.
After everything he had witnessed, he doubted Aizen found the idea of a destructive dragon frightening.
“What exactly are True Dragons?” Aizen asked.
Rojan frowned.
“You really don’t know?”
“I arrived in this world less than an hour ago.”
The answer was so calm that Rojan almost forgot how absurd the situation was.
“You fought Cornu without knowing what kind of world you were entering?”
“I knew enough.”
“You didn’t even know what a True Dragon was.”
“I knew powerful beings existed here.
Learning their names beforehand was not necessary.”
Rojan shifted his injured leg and winced.
“True Dragons are considered the strongest beings in the world.
Calling them monsters does not feel accurate.
They are more like natural disasters that can think and speak.
There are four known True Dragons, although some records disagree on how they should be counted.”
Aizen glanced toward him.
“People often begin debating definitions when knowledge threatens the order they prefer.”
Rojan did not know how to respond to that.
Aizen stepped toward him.
Rojan’s hand moved toward the wand hidden inside his sleeve.
His fingers stopped before touching it.
Aizen had already noticed.
“You may draw it if that makes you more comfortable.”
Rojan kept his hand still.
“I wasn’t reaching for anything.”
“You were.”
Rojan slowly pulled his hand away from his sleeve.
Aizen crouched in front of him.
Rojan immediately tensed.
“What are you doing?”
Aizen placed two fingers against his injured thigh.
Pain shot through Rojan’s leg so violently that he cried out and nearly fell sideways.
Aizen caught his shoulder before he hit the ground.
“Stay still.”
“You could have warned me first.”
“I was determining how serious the injury was.”
“That would have been useful information before you touched it.”
“Would an explanation have changed the condition of your leg?”
“It might have changed whether I agreed.”
Aizen looked up at him.
“You participated in a ritual that sacrificed prisoners taken from other worlds.”
Rojan’s mouth closed.
Aizen returned his attention to the injury.
“You have chosen a rather convenient moment to become concerned about consent.”
Rojan wanted to argue, but nothing he could say would make the accusation untrue.
Pale light gathered around Aizen’s fingertips.
Rojan did not recognize the structure of the technique or the energy passing through it.
It was too organized to resemble ordinary healing magic, but it was also too forceful to be natural regeneration.
Aizen spoke quietly.
“Kaido was never my specialty.”
Rojan gritted his teeth.
“What is Kaido?”
“A healing method used in my former world.”
The pale energy entered Rojan’s leg.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then warmth spread beneath his skin.
Torn muscles pulled together, and the fractured bone shifted with a sickening movement before slowly repairing itself.
Rojan stared at his leg.
“You can already use healing magic?”
“No.”
“You just healed me.”
“I reproduced the principle of a familiar technique using unfamiliar energy.
Calling that mastery would be inaccurate.”
Rojan carefully moved his leg.
The pain had not vanished completely, but the limb could support his weight again.
“How did you understand magicules that quickly?”
“I did not.”
Aizen rose to his feet.
“I understood enough to begin.”
That answer unsettled Rojan more than any boast would have.
Aizen was not claiming to understand the Cardinal World.
He was saying that complete understanding was not required before he began using it.
Rojan slowly pushed himself upright.
The valley had started becoming quieter.
The last major section of the mountain collapsed behind them, sending another cloud of dust across the rocks.
Rojan looked toward the ruins.
“There were records inside that facility.”
“Yes.”
“Research, summoning calculations, Imperial contacts, and years of secret reports.”
“Yes.”
“You destroyed all of it.”
“No.”
Rojan turned toward him.
Aizen raised one hand.
A rectangular piece of black metal rested between his fingers.
Rojan recognized it immediately as part of the facility’s central recording core.
“You took that during the collapse?”
“I took several.”
Rojan looked around.
“Where are the others?”
Aizen lowered his hand, and the metal disappeared beneath the folds of his white clothing.
Rojan did not sense a storage spell or any change in the surrounding space.
“Why did you save me if you already recovered the records?”
“Records contain what people expected others to find.”
“And I can tell you what they wanted hidden.”
“Possibly.”
Rojan’s expression hardened.
“You still consider me disposable.”
“I consider everyone disposable under the correct conditions.”
“Does that include you?”
Aizen’s mouth curved slightly.
“That is a useful question.”
“It wasn’t meant to be rhetorical.”
“Neither was my answer.”
Rojan took a slow breath.
Talking with Aizen felt like crossing a floor that moved whenever he tried to find his balance.
“What do you want from me?”
“Information.”
“You could force me to give it to you.”
“Yes.”
Rojan waited, but Aizen did not continue.
“Then why haven’t you done it?”
“Forced answers reveal only what a person remembers and believes while under pressure.
Voluntary cooperation reveals far more.”
“Such as?”
“Priorities, fears, resentments, and the explanations people create to make betrayal feel justified.”
Rojan’s jaw tightened.
“You’ve already decided I’m going to betray the Empire.”
“You served inside a facility that officially did not exist.
Your commanders sacrificed your own people as fuel, then abandoned you beneath a collapsing mountain.”
Aizen stepped closer.
“The Empire betrayed you first.
You are now deciding whether changing sides would make your response justice instead of survival.”
“That isn’t fair.”
“Fairness is often the word people use for conclusions that protect the way they see themselves.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you objected when Cornu killed your researchers.”
“Anyone would have objected.”
“Most of them remained silent.”
“They were afraid.”
“So were you.”
Rojan looked away.
Aizen continued in the same calm voice.
“You questioned him while knowing he could kill you.
Then you returned to the ritual and continued working.”
“I had no choice.”
“You had several choices.
Most of them would have ended with your death.”
“Then they weren’t real choices.”
“They were real.
You simply valued survival more than defiance.”
Rojan turned sharply.
“Wouldn’t you?”
Aizen’s expression did not change.
“I arranged the destruction of my own body to escape imprisonment.”
Rojan had no answer to that.
He turned toward the distant forest instead.
Cold wind moved through the valley.
Without the facility’s barriers, the isolation surrounding them felt much clearer.
“What happens now?” Rojan asked.
“You will tell me about the Eastern Empire.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You will still tell me.”
Rojan gave a tired, bitter laugh.
“So I don’t actually have a choice.”
“There is always a choice.
You are confusing consequences with the absence of choice.”
“You really enjoy saying things like that.”
“I enjoy accuracy.”
“No, you enjoy making people feel foolish.”
Aizen studied him for a moment.
“Those experiences often occur together.”
Despite everything, Rojan laughed.
The sound was weak and exhausted, but it was genuine.
Rojan shook his head.
“I should hate you.”
“You may.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“Hatred can be useful when judgment remains stronger.”
“And when it doesn’t?”
“Then it becomes predictable.”
Rojan’s laughter disappeared.
Aizen turned away.
“Walk.”
Rojan stared at his back.
“Where are we going?”
“Down the mountain.”
“That isn’t much of a destination.”
“It is the only direction that does not lead farther into the collapsed facility.”
Rojan could not decide whether Aizen had made a joke.
Aizen had already started walking, leaving him no time to ask.
They descended along a narrow path covered with broken stone.
Aizen moved without difficulty, although Rojan noticed that his steps occasionally became almost too controlled, as though he had to consciously decide how much weight and pressure each movement required.
His newly formed body was still adjusting.
That should have comforted Rojan.
It did not.
Every weakness he noticed seemed temporary.
The path eventually entered a shallow ravine.
Dead trees leaned over the rocks, their roots exposed by the collapse.
The concentration of magicules increased as they moved closer to Jura.
Aizen stopped without warning.
Rojan nearly walked into him.
“What is it?”
“Fourteen people are approaching.”
Rojan listened carefully.
He heard only the wind moving through the rocks.
“I don’t sense anyone.”
“They are suppressing their energy poorly.”
Rojan reached into his sleeve and drew his wand.
This time, Aizen did not comment.
Several shadows appeared along the ridge above them.
Armored figures moved into position on both sides of the ravine.
Rojan recognized their equipment immediately.
They wore light black armor designed for covert operations, short enchanted blades, and masks marked with the symbol of the Imperial intelligence bureau.
A man stepped onto a boulder overlooking the ravine and removed his mask.
Rojan recognized him.
“Commander Veyron.”
For half a second, relief moved through him.
Then he remembered Cornu’s final order.
Kill every survivor.
Veyron’s eyes moved from Rojan to Aizen.
“You survived.”
Rojan tightened his grip on the wand.
“The facility collapsed.”
“I noticed.”
“Cornu abandoned us inside.”
Veyron’s expression changed slightly.
“You used his name.”
Rojan became still.
Veyron looked toward the soldiers around the ridge.
“Secure the unknown subject.
Kill the magician.”
The soldiers raised their weapons.
Rojan stepped backward.
“You knew about Cornu.”
“I knew enough.”
“You sent us into that mountain knowing what he was.”
“I followed the orders I was given.”
“They killed everyone inside.”
“They were researchers assigned to a classified operation.”
“They were people.”
Veyron sighed.
“This is why magicians should not be placed in command.
You confuse personal attachment with responsibility.”
Rojan raised his wand, and several magic circles formed around its tip.
Veyron drew his sword.
“Don’t make this more unpleasant than it needs to be.”
Aizen remained between them, showing no concern.
Veyron studied him.
“You are the summoned subject?”
“That is what your people called me.”
“Then surrender quietly.”
Rojan laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
Veyron glanced toward him.
“What is funny?”
“You have no idea who you’re speaking to.”
The commander returned his attention to Aizen.
“I know the operation was designed to obtain a controllable spiritual weapon.”
Aizen looked faintly amused.
“And because that was the intention, you assume the result is controlled.”
“The authority placed inside you belongs to a power beyond anything your mind can understand.”
“I have heard that claim already.”
Veyron raised his sword.
A red signal moved across the blade.
The soldiers attacked.
Four of them jumped from the ridge at the same time, while the others fired narrow bolts of condensed magic from enchanted crossbows.
Rojan raised a barrier.
The bolts struck it almost immediately.
Cracks spread across the surface.
“They’re using anti-spirit weapons,” he shouted.
Aizen did not move.
Two soldiers reached him first.
One swung toward his neck while the other drove a blade toward his heart.
Both weapons passed through his body.
The soldiers stumbled forward.
Aizen now stood several steps behind them.
Rojan stared.
He had not seen him move.
Neither had the soldiers.
One turned in confusion.
Aizen placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Where do you believe I am?”
The soldier’s eyes widened.
He suddenly raised his blade and drove it through the chest of the man beside him.
The wounded soldier gasped and collapsed.
Rojan’s face went pale.
Aizen had not controlled the attacker’s body.
The man still believed Aizen stood directly in front of him.
He had attacked an illusion.
“No,” Rojan whispered.
The remaining soldiers spread out.
Veyron raised his voice.
“Stop trusting your eyes.”
Aizen glanced toward him.
“That is an admirable conclusion.”
Veyron’s expression hardened.
“Use Magic Sense.
Find his real position.”
Several soldiers closed their eyes.
Their awareness expanded through the ravine, searching every movement of magicules and spiritual energy.
Rojan felt their senses moving around him.
Aizen remained in plain view beside the rocks.
The soldiers turned toward him.
“We found him.”
They attacked from three directions.
Their blades struck one another.
Aizen was no longer between them.
Veyron’s face changed.
“He can interfere with Magic Sense.”
Rojan looked around.
He could still see Aizen standing near the same rocks.
Or he believed he could.
The uncertainty tightened his stomach.
One soldier screamed.
Another fell.
The battle unfolded through mistakes.
A crossbowman fired at Aizen and struck one of his allies.
A swordsman blocked an attack that had never existed, leaving his back exposed.
Two soldiers tried to escape through what they believed was an open path and ran directly into the ravine wall.
Aizen had not drawn a weapon.
He moved calmly among them while their senses betrayed them.
Rojan noticed something important.
Aizen was studying every reaction.
He watched how Magic Sense differed from ordinary sight.
He observed which soldiers recognized inconsistencies first and which ones relied too heavily on the information provided by their skills.
Aizen deliberately allowed one soldier to notice that the rocks beneath his feet did not move when his image stepped across them.
The soldier raised his voice.
“Watch the ground.
His illusion isn’t affecting everything equally.”
Aizen looked toward him.
“Good.”
The soldier raised his weapon.
Aizen appeared directly in front of him.
One finger touched the center of the man’s chest.
“Hadō number one, Shō.”
The soldier flew backward and struck the ravine wall hard enough to crack the stone.
Rojan stared.
The spell was stronger than it had been inside the underground facility.
The Cardinal World was already changing Aizen’s abilities.
Veyron realized the battle was lost.
He reached inside his armor and crushed a blue crystal.
Space twisted behind him, creating a small transportation passage.
Aizen turned in his direction.
“Leaving already?”
Veyron stepped backward toward the opening.
“You will be hunted across the Empire.”
“I assumed as much.”
“The Eastern Court will learn what happened here.”
“Yes.”
“Cornu will return.”
“I hope he does.”
Veyron disappeared into the passage.
The distortion closed behind him.
Rojan looked around the ravine.
Three soldiers were dead.
Several others lay unconscious or wounded, while two had escaped deeper into the rocks.
Aizen had deliberately allowed Veyron to leave.
Rojan understood immediately.
“You let him escape.”
“Yes.”
“He will report you.”
“Yes.”
“He’ll tell them you survived and broke Cornu’s control.”
Aizen looked toward the place where the commander had vanished.
“No, he will not.”
Rojan frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“He will report that the summoning created a dangerous spiritual creature capable of manipulating perception.
He will claim that Cornu’s authority became unstable during the collapse but did not completely fail.”
“How can you know what he’ll say?”
“Because admitting total failure would place responsibility on everyone involved.
Blaming the collapse allows them to protect their faith in the authority.”
Rojan shook his head.
“He saw you ignore Cornu’s commands.”
“He saw what I allowed him to see.”
Aizen turned toward the wounded soldiers.
One of them remained conscious.
A young man lay against the rocks with blood covering his armor.
His sword rested several feet away.
He reached for it.
Aizen placed one foot on the blade.
The soldier stopped moving.
“What is your name?” Aizen asked.
The man glared at him.
“Go to hell.”
Instead, Aizen removed his foot from the weapon.
“Pick it up.”
The soldier stared at him.
“You heard me.”
The man slowly closed his hand around the hilt.
Aizen waited.
The soldier lunged.
Aizen caught his wrist and twisted it until the blade fell from his hand.
Then he leaned closer.
“You attacked because you believed refusing would dishonor those who died beside you.”
The soldier breathed heavily.
“You murdered them.”
“Some of them.”
Rojan looked toward the bodies.
Aizen continued.
“The others killed one another because they could not trust their senses.”
“That was because of you.”
“Yes.”
The soldier’s hatred deepened.
Aizen released his wrist.
“Good.”
The man looked confused.
Aizen stepped back.
“Your hatred will make your report convincing.”
Rojan understood.
“You’re letting him leave too.”
“One witness might be dismissed as frightened or incompetent.
Two witnesses giving different accounts will create doubt.”
The soldier spat blood near Aizen’s feet.
“What different account?”
Aizen looked down at him.
“You saw Cornu lose control of the creature he summoned.”
“I saw a monster deceive us.”
“That is what you will report.”
“You think I’m going to obey you?”
“No.”
Aizen’s eyes rested on him.
“You will tell the truth as you understand it.”
The soldier’s expression changed.
Rojan felt a chill move through him.
Aizen was not placing a false memory inside the man.
He was deciding which truth would survive.
Veyron would describe an unstable weapon whose domination had only partially failed.
The soldier would describe a monster that escaped control and slaughtered Imperial agents.
Neither would understand Aizen’s true condition.
The Empire would debate whether Michael’s authority remained connected to him.
Cornu would demand secrecy, while the intelligence bureau would demand control.
The researchers’ deaths would be blamed on the collapse.
Different groups would begin distrusting one another before Aizen had even learned their names.
The soldier slowly pushed himself to his feet.
He looked toward Rojan.
“Traitor.”
Rojan opened his mouth, but no answer came.
The soldier limped away through the ravine.
Aizen watched until he disappeared beyond the ridge.
Rojan looked at him.
“You could have stopped him from calling me that.”
“Would it have changed whether you believed him?”
Rojan looked down.
He had served the Empire for fourteen years.
He had worked on summonings, questioned Otherworlders, and ignored rumors about what happened to failed subjects.
He had always told himself the research protected the Empire from its enemies.
Now his colleagues were dead, the facility was buried, and he stood beside the man they had tried to enslave.
“What am I now?” he asked.
Aizen began walking again.
“Alive.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It is the only answer you currently know with certainty.”
Rojan followed him.
“What will the Empire do next?”
“They will search the ruins, eliminate witnesses, and rewrite the purpose of the facility.
Then they will send agents toward Jura and the nearby nations.”
“You sound certain.”
“Institutions protect their legitimacy before they protect the truth.”
“What will Cornu do?”
“He will hide the true extent of his failure from whoever commands him.”
“Michael?”
Aizen stopped.
Rojan immediately regretted saying the name.
He had heard Cornu speak it only twice, both times while communicating with the black relic.
He had never been sure whether Michael was a person, a skill, or something else entirely.
Aizen turned toward him.
“Tell me everything you know about Michael.”
Rojan hesitated.
“I barely know anything.”
“That is rarely true.”
“I know Cornu spoke to something through the relic.
I heard him say the name Michael twice.
The Imperial court has sealed records about an ancient authority connected to domination.”
“Who can access those records?”
“The Emperor, certain members of the Single Digits, the chief of magical intelligence, and possibly Yuuki Kagurazaka.”
Aizen stored the unfamiliar name.
“Who is Yuuki Kagurazaka?”
“He is the Grandmaster of the Freedom Association in the Western Nations.”
“And why would a Western official have access to Imperial secrets?”
Rojan looked uncomfortable.
“That is the kind of question people disappear for asking.”
Aizen smiled faintly.
“Then it is probably a question worth asking.”
They continued east toward the forest.
The sky had begun to brighten, and magicules drifted between the trees like invisible mist.
Weak monsters moved away from Aizen’s presence without understanding what frightened them.
Rojan noticed the reaction.
“Your aura is scaring everything around us.”
“My spiritual pressure is not fully concealed.”
“Can you hide it?”
Aizen considered the question.
In Soul Society, controlling his spiritual pressure had required almost no effort.
In the Cardinal World, his energy interacted with magicules in unfamiliar ways.
The Hōgyoku was still adapting, and complete concealment would require more precision.
He reduced his presence.
The surrounding magicules became calmer.
Several creatures in the distance stopped fleeing.
Rojan’s eyes widened.
“You learned that already?”
“Your surprise is becoming repetitive.”
“I have known magicians who spent decades learning to control their magicules that precisely.”
“Then they trained inefficiently.”
Rojan shook his head.
“You really think everything is simple once you understand it.”
“No.”
Aizen looked toward the forest.
“I think people often protect complexity because they benefit from others remaining confused.”
They reached the first trees.
Jura felt completely different from the barren mountain behind them.
Life crowded every direction.
Insects, birds, small monsters, roots, and wandering spirits all carried traces of magicules.
None of the individual presences were impressive, but the forest itself possessed an enormous depth.
Far within it, Veldora’s sealed pressure rolled across the land like a distant storm.
Aizen felt another presence beneath the dragon’s power.
A boundary.
It was not physical.
A thin connection stretched between the Cardinal World and a darker realm beyond it.
Something on the other side had noticed his arrival.
A patient presence watched from the Underworld.
Aizen did not know the observer’s name yet.
The observer did not know his.
That would eventually change.
Rojan stopped beside him.
“Where are we going?”
“Deeper into Jura.”
“There are powerful monsters inside.”
“So you have told me.”
“We should find an Imperial outpost first.
I could get food, equipment, and information.”
“You would also alert your former superiors.”
“They already know we survived.”
“They know you survived.”
Rojan frowned.
“They saw you.”
“They saw several versions of me.”
Rojan became quiet.
Aizen stepped beneath the trees.
Morning light passed through the branches and touched his reconstructed face.
This world had already tried to classify him, control him, destroy him, and hunt him.
It had revealed a dragon sealed beneath a forest, an Empire conducting illegal summonings, a hidden authority named Michael, a servant called Cornu, and a distant master who preferred to remain unseen.
It was a promising beginning.
Behind him, Rojan remained at the edge of the forest.
Aizen did not turn around.
“You may leave.”
Rojan stared at him.
“What?”
“You are no longer trapped beneath the mountain.
The Imperial patrol route is east of here, and there is a human settlement several hours to the south.”
“You’re letting me go?”
“Yes.”
Rojan searched his face for any sign of deception.
“What happens if I return to the Empire?”
“You will be questioned, imprisoned, and eventually killed when your testimony becomes inconvenient.”
“And if I go south?”
“You may survive until someone recognizes you as an Imperial magician.”
Rojan looked into the forest.
“What happens if I follow you?”
Aizen finally turned.
“You will become useful or die while attempting to.”
Rojan laughed in disbelief.
“Those are all terrible choices.”
“They are honest choices.”
Rojan looked east.
Then he looked south.
Finally, his eyes returned to the darkness of Jura.
He understood exactly what Aizen was doing.
The Empire had abandoned him.
The nearby nations would assume he was an Imperial spy, and Cornu would kill him if he learned too much.
Aizen had made himself the only option that appeared to offer protection, knowledge, and revenge.
Recognizing the trap did not create another road.
Rojan stepped beneath the trees.
“I hate that you knew what I would choose.”
Aizen resumed walking.
“I did not know.”
“You expected it.”
“I prepared for it.”
“What would you have done if I left?”
“I would have watched where you went.”
“And if I betrayed you?”
“I would have learned who responded.”
Rojan stared at his back.
“So there wasn’t a wrong choice for you.”
“There are always wrong choices.”
Aizen’s voice carried calmly through the forest.
“I simply prefer when other people make them.”
The two figures disappeared beneath Jura’s ancient trees.
Behind them, the collapsed mountain buried the truth of the summoning facility.
Ahead waited monsters without names, nations unaware of the threat growing near their borders, and rulers who believed the balance of the world belonged to them.
Before the day ended, the Eastern Empire would receive two conflicting reports.
One would describe a failed weapon.
The other would describe an escaped monster.
Neither would mention the calm man walking beneath the forest canopy, studying every creature, every magicule, and every law he encountered.
The world had already begun searching for Sōsuke Aizen.
It did not yet understand that he had chosen to let it search in the wrong direction.