Chapter 53: The Disco of the Spheres
The "cultural exchange" with the Drawer Realm had seemed like a stable administrative decision in Chapter 51, but Ne Job had underestimated the sheer power of a billion tiny people who had nothing to do for eons but perfect their "groove."
At 14:00 Cycles, the low-level hum of the sub-galaxy didn't just get louder—it developed a Syncopated Bassline.
"Commissioner," Assistant Yue buzzed, her typewriter keys rhythmic. "THE. DRAWER. REALM. IS. BROADCASTING. ON. A. FREQUENCY. OF. 120. BEATS. PER. MINUTE. MY. HYBRID. CHASSIS. IS... COMPELLED. TO. SHIMMY."
The Gravitational Groove
The music wasn't just sound; it was a rhythmic distortion of reality. As the beat dropped, the Bureau's gravity shifted with every thump. On the "One," everyone was pinned to the floor. On the "Two," the staff drifted three feet into the air.
"I can't... align... the stars... if the stars... are doing... the hustle!" Ao Bing gasped, his blueprints fluttering as he performed an involuntary mid-air spin.
The Muse, however, was in her element. Her neon hair was pulsing in neon pink and electric gold, trailing "Glimmer-Sparkles" behind her as she moonwalked across the ceiling. "Ne Job! Don't fight the tempo! The 7.5% sparkle is becoming 100% disco!"
The High-Stakes Hustle
The problem was the paperwork. The Bureau's core function—the Department of Human Trajectories—was becoming a kinetic mess. Every time a clerk tried to file a "Birth of a Hero" form, the bass kicked in, and the form ended up in the "Failed One-Hit Wonders" bin.
"Pip! The wrench!" Ne Job shouted, catching a flying stapler mid-air while performing a flawless, yet entirely unintentional, disco finger-point.
"I'm trying!" Pip yelled, their goggles flashing in time with the lights. "But every time I try to tighten the 'Vibe-Valve,' the gravity flips and I end up doing a backflip into the recycling!"
The 7.5% Choreography
Ne Job realized that they couldn't stop the music—the Drawer Realm was too small and too enthusiastic to be reasoned with. He had to Structure the Dance.
"Listen up!" Ne Job bellowed over a heavy synth solo. "If we're going to dance, we're going to do it by the book! Every 'Trajectory Adjustment' will now be performed in a 4/4 time signature! The 'Spin' is for Priority Requests! The 'Slide' is for Standard Filing!"
He grabbed a pair of luminous batons (actually just two glow-in-the-dark pens Pip had found) and began to conduct the chaos.
Suddenly, the Bureau wasn't a mess; it was a Precision Performance. The staff began to move in unison, passing files with rhythmic snaps. The Architect used the gravity shifts to haul heavy marble columns into place with a rhythmic grunt. Even the dragon, Barnaby, began to tap his obsidian claws on the floor, creating a percussion section that kept the universe in time.
The Peak of the Party
The Drawer Realm Chancellor squeaked with delight through his megaphone. "Yes, Giant Ones! The alignment is groovy! Your 'Bureaucracy' has excellent footwork!"
With a final, explosive chord, the tiny galaxy let out a pulse of pure, shimmering violet light. The gravity snapped back to normal. The music faded into a mellow, low-fi chill-hop background beat.
The staff collapsed into their chairs, 100% exhausted but 7.5% more coordinated than they had ever been.
The Post-Disco Ledger
Ne Job sat at his desk, his hat slightly askew and his heart still beating in 4/4 time. He opened the ledger, his silver pen moving with a new, fluid grace.
LOG: CHAPTER 53 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Disco-Gravity stabilized. Bureau-wide choreography implemented.
NOTE: I have never moved like that in my life. I believe I may have pulled a 'Narrative Muscle.'
OBSERVATION: Efficiency is 100% higher when everyone is moving to the same beat.
P.S.: Assistant Yue has requested a permanent disco-ball for the breakroom. Request: DENIED (for now).
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair still sparkling. "You've got moves, Ne Job. I didn't know a 'Steve' could dance like that."
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a calm, rhythmic pulse.
"I told you, Muse," Ne Job said, straightening his tie. "I am an Anomaly. And an Anomaly never misses a beat. Now, let's see why the Library of Whispers is suddenly silent... suspiciously silent."