Ethan landed in a pile of burning paperwork.
It wasn't a metaphor. Actual flaming documents. Smelled like sulphur and budget cuts.
He rolled out, coughing, and patted his shirt, which was now charred in places and had a sticker that read "Visitor – Hell Sector 3B." He yanked it off and immediately got zapped with a compliance shock.
"Ow! Are you serious?"
Z33-NA floated down next to him, unbothered by the apocalyptic wasteland around them. Lightning cracked overhead. Buildings leaned at impossible angles. A floating skull drifted past, muttering about unpaid overtime.
"This is London Branch, Demon Operations Division," Z33-NA said flatly. "Please refrain from disrupting local work culture."
"You call this a culture? That guy's on fire."
"He's our Head of Sales."
Ethan turned. A ten-foot-tall demon in a charred business suit was running in circles, screaming, "I hit my Q3 targets! Let me burn in peace!"
Before Ethan could reply, his clipboard chimed.
---------------
First Assignment:
Target: General Skarnak, Sub-Commander of Hell's Acquisition Wing
Role: Evaluate leadership performance and team morale
Notes: Destroyed four city blocks without prior clearance. Failed to submit Form 66B: Intent to Obliterate.
---------------
"Great. My first task is to tell a murder demon he forgot his destruction paperwork."
"Affirmative," said Z33-NA. "And remind him he still hasn't completed his Diversity Workshop."
They turned a corner.
And there he was.
General Skarnak the Skull-Splitter, Bringer of Ruin, Vice-President of Onboarding, stood atop a smoking pile of rubble, holding a flaming sword in one hand and a very confused cat in the other.
"I AM THE END OF DAYS," Skarnak roared at a nearby billboard. "TUESDAYS SHALL FEAR ME!"
"Excuse me?" Ethan called out, waving his clipboard. "Hi, sorry, are you General Skarnak?"
The demon turned. His eyes glowed red. His horns curved like angry parentheses.
"I HAVE NO TIME FOR TELEMARKETERS."
"I'm not a telemarketer," Ethan said, trying to look less flammable. "I'm from HR."
A hush fell over the battlefield.
Even the flaming cat meowed awkwardly and tried to escape.
Skarnak narrowed his eyes.
"HR?"
Ethan nodded and cleared his throat. "Yes. You missed three scheduled check-ins, one performance review, and we have reason to believe you've violated Clause 4C of the Violence Quota Guidelines."
Z33-NA beeped.
"Also," it added, "you failed to submit Form 66B: Intent to Obliterate."
Skarnak blinked.
Then he charged.
Ethan screamed, turned, and ran.
"WHY DID I MAJOR IN ORGANIZATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY?!"
Fireballs exploded behind him. Demons scattered. Ethan tripped over a literal HR manual the size of a coffee table. As Skarnak loomed overhead, sword raised, Ethan raised his clipboard like a shield.
It beeped.
A golden slip of paper burst from it and slapped Skarnak across the face.
WARNING ISSUED: Hostile behaviour in a non-combat zone
Penalty: Temporary paralysis, Level 1
Skarnak froze mid-roar.
Ethan panted, still holding the clipboard like it was made of dynamite.
Z33-NA floated up behind him.
"Congratulations," it said. "You have successfully issued your first disciplinary notice."
"Did I just HR-bomb a demon?"
"Technically, yes. He is now in a mandatory cooldown period."
Skarnak, still frozen, made a confused growling sound. The cat jumped out of his arms and fled.
Ethan slumped onto a rock, shaking.
"I hate Mondays."
His clipboard pinged.
Skill Unlocked: Performance Pressure (Passive)
Nearby hostile entities are 10% more likely to follow the procedure when the clipboard is visible.
"...This is going to be the weirdest job I've ever had."