Ethan stood in the middle of what had once been a Starbucks and was now Hell Sector 3B's official "Team Collaboration Zone." There were still a few chairs, a mostly intact espresso machine, and a demon glued to the ceiling.
Z33-NA hovered beside him, projecting a hologram labeled:
TEAM SKARNAK: STATUS – HIGH RISK, LOW FUNCTIONALITY, MILDLY STICKY.
"Where is everyone?" Ethan asked.
"In hiding," said Z33-NA. "Last week, General Skarnak initiated a performance drill by throwing fireballs at interns who made typos."
"Motivational," Skarnak boomed proudly from behind the counter. "Mistakes burned away the weak."
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's not how coaching works. That's how lawsuits work."
Z33-NA beeped cheerfully. "Would you like to see the turnover chart?"
A graph appeared. It was just a single, vertical line labeled 'EVERYONE' followed by a flat zero. Ethan stared.
"Perfect. I'm managing a team that no longer exists."
"Incorrect," said Z33-NA. "We retained one intern."
A cabinet under the broken espresso machine creaked open. Something scrambled out. It was three feet tall, covered in soot, and wearing an oversized name tag that read Tork – Intern (Probably).
It grinned with far too many teeth.
"Hi, boss," it squeaked, saluting with a burnt donut.
Ethan stared.
"That's a gremlin."
"Technically," Z33-NA corrected, "he identifies as 'gremlin-adjacent.'"
Tork offered the donut. It was still on fire.
"No, thank you," Ethan said.
Skarnak stomped forward and slapped a report on the counter. "I have filled out the team self-evaluation. My rating is 'FIRE.'"
"That's not a number."
"It's better than a number."
Ethan flipped the sheet. There was a drawing of a flaming skull doing taxes.
"This is a crayon."
"Yes. The blood of accountants."
Ethan turned to Z33-NA. "Please tell me there's some way to rebuild this team without needing therapy after."
"Would you like to initiate a Requisition for Multiversal Staffing?"
"Sure. That sounds promising."
Z33-NA blinked. "Estimated arrival: 6 to 8 business years."
Ethan screamed into a pillow he found on the floor. It screamed back.
Tork climbed onto the counter, accidentally set it on fire, fell off, and saluted again.
Ethan took a deep breath.
"Alright. Fine. I'll work with what I've got."
He pointed at Skarnak. "You're on probation. No fire unless scheduled."
"Not even a small fire?"
"No."
Skarnak lit a match and stared at it longingly.
"You." Ethan pointed at Tork. "Stop offering people flaming snacks. Also, stop licking the furniture."
Tork froze mid-lick and slowly backed away from a scorched beanbag chair.
Z33-NA pinged.
Team Created: Active Roster – 2
HR Skill Unlocked: Mandatory Icebreaker
Creates a magical aura that forces new team members to reveal one embarrassing fact about themselves.
"Why does this exist?" Ethan asked.
"For trust-building," said Z33-NA.
Before he could protest, the skill activated.
Skarnak boomed, "I still sleep with my conquering pillow from my first war."
Tork blurted, "I once ate a fax machine because I thought it was angry toast."
They both stared at Ethan.
He sighed. "Fine. I once cried during a leadership seminar titled 'Synergize Your Soul.'"
There was a moment of silence.
Then, unexpectedly, Skarnak nodded solemnly. "I, too, have known the pain of PowerPoint."
Ethan looked at his clipboard. Then at the smouldering furniture. Then at the intern trying to balance a stapler on his nose.
This was his team.
God help the apocalypse.