1. The Corridor of Incorrect Instructions
They ran.
Ne Job and Yue sprinted down a corridor paved with fallen sticky notes, each one screaming contradictory advice.
> "SUBMIT FORM 999B BEFORE FORM 999A."
"IF YOU DIE, FILE A CLAIM."
"THE COFFEE MACHINE IS SENTIENT. BE NICE."
Behind them, the Audit Extermination Unit marched in mechanical unison. Their heels clicked with lethal punctuality.
"WHY DO THEY SOUND LIKE CALCULATORS?" Ne Job cried.
Yue yanked him left just before a laser line cut through the hallway, vaporizing a passing soul.
"Because they ARE calculators."
"What?!"
"They're the Bureau's answer to inefficiency. They delete anomalies."
"I'm an anomaly?!"
"You're a walking clerical disaster!"
Ne Job couldn't argue.
---
2. The Filing Catacombs
They burst into a room vast as a library and twice as dusty. File cabinets stretched to the ceiling, each labeled in divine shorthand no mortal could decode.
"Yue," Ne Job gasped, "these cabinets go up forever."
"They do."
"How do they get files down?"
"They don't."
"What—"
"They send interns."
Ne Job stared up at the unreachable cabinets with deep, primal terror.
"This place hates us."
"It does," Yue said, "but it hates late paperwork even more."
Behind them, the Audit Extermination Unit marched in, eyes glowing spreadsheet green.
> SUBJECT: NE JOB. STATUS: UNAUTHORIZED DISRUPTOR. BEGIN BACKLOG ERASURE.
Ne Job's instincts screamed.
"We're climbing."
Yue grabbed his shirt. "If you climb those cabinets, they will eat you."
"They WHAT—"
Metal jaws snapped open along the cabinet edges like predatory binders.
"Oh. Good," Ne Job said. "Great. Fantastic."
---
3. The God of Paperclips
A metallic rattling echoed. Something slithered.
A god emerged—tall, slender, metal hair coiled into loops and spirals.
The Minor God of Paperclips.
Its voice was smooth and deadly.
"You seek escape?"
Ne Job blinked. "You—wait—paperclip god?"
The deity nodded.
"I once united entire documents into order. Then mortals invented staples. And I was… demoted."
Its eyes burned with ergonomic vengeance.
Yue bowed slightly. "We request conditional assistance."
The god tapped its chin—made of bent steel.
"I demand tribute."
Ne Job gestured frantically. "We don't have tribute!"
"You have pockets."
Ne Job patted his robes. A paperclip fell out.
It was… pink.
The god recoiled.
"A novelty clip?!"
"It's all they gave me!"
The god hissed. "Humiliation incarnate! Fine. I will assist not for tribute—"
It extended an arm that reshaped into a sharp hook.
"—but for REVENGE."
---
4. The Audit Unit Attacks
The Audit Extermination Unit raised their ledger-sabers.
> ALLOCATE. EXECUTE. CORRECT.
Rows of energy grids snapped across the floor.
Yue swore. "Ne Job—jump!"
The Paperclip God struck first.
Its arms unraveled into a thousand metallic tendrils, weaving a net of pure ergonomic spite.
The lasers bounced.
Calculators froze.
"A PAPERCLIP MAZE?!" Ne Job shouted.
"It is not a maze," the god replied, "it is SHACKLE-FORM-109B."
The Unit struggled— embedded in swirling metal.
Their voices stuttered.
> ERR—ERR—ERR—ERR—
Ne Job stared. "You're amazing."
The Paperclip God blinked.
"Nobody has said that to me since 1996."
"But we need to go," Yue cut in.
The god handed Ne Job a spiral of metal.
"If you reach the Princess, give her this. A reminder to the Bureau that order begins with flexibility."
Ne Job saluted with unnecessary emotional sincerity.
"I won't fail you, clip bro."
The god nodded gravely.
"Weakness turns to staples. Strength bends without breaking."
---
5. The Flesh Printer
They reached a freight elevator, rusted and covered in warning labels.
Ne Job jabbed the button.
Nothing.
He jabbed harder.
Still nothing.
The screen lit up:
> REQUIRES BIOMETRIC INPUT. BLOOD OR TEARS ACCEPTED.
Yue sighed, pulled out a needle, and stabbed her thumb.
A bead of gold divine ichor dripped onto the sensor.
The doors opened—into complete blackness.
"Uh," Ne Job whispered. "That doesn't look… elevator-y."
"It's not," Yue said. "It's the Flesh Printer."
"WHAT."
"A divine mechanism that reconstitutes bodies after demotion."
"You mean it prints people?"
"Yes."
"I HATE IT."
"So do most souls."
With no better options, they stepped inside.
The doors slammed shut with the sound of meat.
---
6. The Printer Begins the Process
Lights flickered.
Mechanical arms descended, spinning ink cartridges full of something sticky, glowing, and disturbingly alive.
> PLEASE REMAIN STILL WHILE WE CONVERT YOUR FAILURE INTO USEFULNESS.
"No no no NO—" Ne Job screamed.
Yue elbowed him. "You HAVE to challenge the ritual!"
"How?!"
"Recite the anti-amendment!"
"I don't KNOW the anti-amendment!"
"THEN MAKE ONE UP!"
Ne Job sucked in a breath, raised his arms, and shouted:
> "BEHOLD—THE INTERN'S PRAYER:
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING!
I DO NOT KNOW THE RULES!
AND I REFUSE TO PRETEND!
IF I AM WRONG—
TEACH ME!
IF I BREAK IT—
FIX IT!
IF YOU TRY TO KILL ME—
I'LL COMPLAIN TO HUMAN RESOURCES!"
Silence.
Then—
The Flesh Printer hiccuped.
The arms retracted.
A soft beep chimed.
> UNAUTHORIZED CONFIDENCE DETECTED.
PROVISIONAL CLEARANCE GRANTED.
The doors slid open.
Yue stared at him, jaw slack.
"That was… idiotic."
"It worked!"
"That makes it worse."
---
7. The Path Upward
A circular staircase spiraled upward, disappearing into violet fog.
Ne Job gulped.
"Where does this go?"
Yue's voice was quiet.
"The Upper Floors. Conversion sectors. The Princess is being elevated."
"So we chase her."
"No," Yue said. "We follow her path, but we must not interrupt it. If we interrupt mid-stage, her soul collapses."
"Then what do we do?"
"We sabotage the system."
"That sounds illegal!"
Yue smirked.
"Welcome to divine adulthood."
---
8. The Auditor That Wouldn't Die
They climbed three floors before the first scream struck.
A shape hurled itself from the fog.
A single Audit Extermination Unit—mutilated, sparking, metal wires exposed—still marching.
Its LED eyes glowed blood red.
> OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE ANOMALY. PRIORITY: 9999.
It swung its ledger-spear.
Yue blocked with her clipboard.
Paper clashed with metal.
"NE JOB!" she yelled.
"I DON'T HAVE A WEAPON!"
The Unit thrust again.
Ne Job dodged.
It thrust a third time—
And Ne Job remembered the paperclip spiral in his pocket.
He slammed it against the spear.
The weapon bent like tinfoil.
The Unit glitched.
> FLEXIBLE… FORMAT… UNRECOGNIZED…
Ne Job swung the paperclip coil.
It struck the Unit's chest.
Metal unraveled.
The Unit collapsed into a pile of loose receipts.
Yue stared.
"You just… destroyed an Auditor."
"I hit it with flexibility!"
"That sentence hurts my brain."
---
9. The Princess and the Summit
The fog thinned as they climbed. Soft golden light pulsed above.
Ne Job whispered, breathless:
"That's her aura."
Yue nodded.
"The higher she rises, the more she rewrites. The Bureau will bend to her order."
"Isn't that good?"
"It depends on the cost."
The stairs ended at a massive circular door covered in divine seals.
Three words etched across it:
> THE SUMMIT OFFICE
Ne Job pressed his hand to the metal. It burned him. It welcomed him. Both at once.
"Ling," he whispered.
No answer.
But above them—somewhere behind that door—
A stapler clicked.
Not mundane. Not office.
Divine.
---
10. The Last Warning
A voice crackled from the wall.
Not the Judge.
Not the Bureau AI.
A new voice—cold, velvet, familiar.
> Intern Ne Job. Stand down.
Yue froze. Her shoulders tensed like drawn wire.
"That voice…" she breathed.
Ne Job frowned. "Who—"
The wall shimmered, forming a silhouette.
A tall figure in celestial robes, face hidden behind a bureaucracy mask.
The Evil Manual Spirit.
> The Princess is no longer yours to retrieve.
She is becoming what we require.
And if you continue…
the Bureau will finally stop tolerating you.
Ne Job tightened his fist around the paperclip coil.
"Good," he said.
"Because I'm done tolerating the Bureau."