White.
Not the blinding, holy, dramatic kind Heaven liked to use.
This was a blank white — an emptiness so absolute it felt like someone had erased reality with a cosmic backspace key.
Ne Job gasped as sensation snapped back into his body. He stumbled, nearly falling—until Yue grabbed his wrist and steadied him.
"Careful," she said, voice low, eyes scanning everything and nothing. "We've been displaced."
"…where?" Ne Job whispered.
Yue swallowed. "Somewhere outside the Bureau. Maybe outside… narrative space itself."
He blinked. "We got… kicked out of the story?!"
"No," came a calm voice behind them.
"You were temporarily suspended from it."
Yue spun, defensive stance sharp.
Ne Job raised his fists, which trembled because he had absolutely no idea how to fight something that had a clipboard instead of a face.
Auditor Null stood a few paces behind them. Mask blank, posture unreadable, quill floating lazily around like a bored shark.
Only now… they looked different.
Less absolute.
Less "the universe itself wearing a mask."
More… curious.
Ne Job squinted. "Uh… why aren't you vaporizing us?"
"Termination was postponed," Null replied simply.
Yue narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Null tilted their head. "Because you created an anomaly I did not predict."
Ne Job felt his stomach drop. "The shield…?"
"No," Null said.
They pointed at Yue.
"Her choice."
Yue froze.
Null's voice was still even, mechanical, but something about it felt… slower. Hesitant.
"You stepped outside your assigned narrative function. Assistants support. Assistants stabilize. Assistants do not rewrite causal outcomes."
A pause.
"And yet you attempted to."
Yue's jaw tightened. "…he's my intern."
Ne Job blinked. "I am?"
She shoved him lightly. "Don't make it weird."
"It is already weird," Null said. "Assistant Yue's action diverged from projected arcs across one hundred and forty-two potential continuities."
Ne Job looked at Yue. She flushed lightly and looked away.
"And," Null continued, turning back to Ne Job, "you reacted atypically as well."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"You did not accept correction. Interns usually do."
"Wait—interns usually just let themselves get erased?!"
"Yes. It is considered efficient."
"Well I'm not efficient!" Ne Job snapped.
"I panic! I complain! I procrastinate! I try my best but everything is literally on divine fire all the time!"
Yue added, "And he overworks."
"I OVER—HEY!"
Null watched the two of them with unnerving stillness.
"Curious," the Auditor murmured. "Your dynamic may be interfering with entropy."
Ne Job blinked. "…we're breaking the universe because we're bad at our jobs?"
"Incorrect."
Null stepped closer.
"You are breaking the universe because you are changing your roles faster than the story can settle."
Yue stiffened.
"Explain," she demanded.
Null raised a hand.
The white expanse rippled — shifting into an enormous floating diagram of interlocking threads, glowing lines, converging pages, unfolding fates. A living blueprint of the story itself.
Ne Job's jaw dropped. "That… looks like my inbox after five minutes."
Yue whispered, "That's the Bureau's narrative architecture."
Null nodded. "Every story within Heaven, Hell, and all mortal realms follows predictable structural flows. Roles reinforce paths. Intern stabilizes chaos. Assistant guides intern. Supervisor oversees both."
"And we messed it up?" Ne Job asked quietly.
"No. You did something unprecedented."
Null pointed to two glowing threads — Ne Job and Yue.
"They intertwined."
Yue's cheeks shifted red again. "…define intertwined."
Null replied without hesitation, "Your fates became mutually recursive. Each action of one influences the other's trajectory. Assistant Yue protects Intern Ne Job. Intern Ne Job's instability triggers Assistant Yue's growth. You amplify each other's divergence."
"That sounds… good?" Ne Job said hopefully.
"It is not," Null corrected.
"It destabilizes the Bureau's control systems. It generates unpredictable outcomes."
Ne Job frowned. "We've been unpredictable since day one."
"Yes," Null agreed.
"But now it is accelerating."
The diagram zoomed.
The threads converged into a knot.
That knot pulsed like a heartbeat.
Yue inhaled sharply. "That's… us?"
"The anomaly you created," Null said, "is so potent it is affecting other departments, other timelines, even other stories."
"…other stories?" Ne Job echoed.
"Yes," Null confirmed.
"You are interfering with chapters you have not even reached yet."
Yue looked at Ne Job.
Ne Job looked at Yue.
"Oh no," they said at the same time.
Null continued:
"At this rate, your narrative will collapse. The Bureau will lose control of your continuity. And corrective action will be mandatory."
Ne Job exhaled shakily. "So… what? You dragged us into this blank place to erase us quietly?"
"No."
Null's mask shifted — for the first time — to something like interest.
"I wish to observe you."
"…observe?" Yue repeated.
"Yes. I want to understand your anomaly. Why your threads merge. Why your fates refuse separation. Why the story bends around you instead of forcing compliance."
Ne Job raised a finger. "Wait, wait, wait. You want to study us like… lab rats?"
"Yes."
"No."
Null paused. "You decline?"
Yue stepped beside Ne Job, stance ready but calm.
"That's not happening," she said.
"We need to return. Our division is falling apart. Lord Xian is probably panicking. And if we don't fix the Cemetery Backlog, a million souls are going to file grievances the size of small moons."
Null looked between them.
"Fascinating. You still prioritize function over self-preservation."
Yue's tone sharpened. "Let us go."
"No."
The white expanse warped — forming three floating doors behind Null.
Door 1: Golden, carved with Bureau symbols.
Door 2: Cracked stone, leaking black mist.
Door 3: A plain wooden sliding office door.
"What… are those?" Ne Job asked.
"Three resolutions," Null said.
ONE:
"Return to your story with memories altered to restore predictable roles. Intern and Assistant separated. The anomaly erased."
Yue went rigid.
Ne Job felt his chest tighten.
TWO:
"Terminate the anomaly. End your narrative prematurely. Prevent collapse."
Ne Job turned pale. "That one sucks. Skip."
THREE:
Null paused.
The plain office door slid open slightly.
"Proceed with the anomaly willingly. Accept that your story will no longer follow standard structure. Enter a path of unpredictable consequences."
Yue whispered, "A story outside the Bureau's control…"
Ne Job looked at her.
Yue looked back.
"…but together," he said quietly.
Her voice softened. "As long as you don't do anything stupid."
"I always do something stupid."
"…I know."
Null observed them silently.
"Choose," the Auditor said.
"Which door defines your story?"
Ne Job squeezed Yue's hand.
Yue didn't pull away.
They stepped forward.
Together.
Toward—
THE PLAIN OFFICE DOOR.
Null's mask flickered with something like shock.
"Unstructured narrative chosen," they whispered.
"Impossible."
Ne Job kicked the door open with dramatic flair.
"Welcome to our impossible life."
Light exploded from behind the doorway.
Auditor Null raised a hand, recording everything mentally — the anomaly growing, threads twisting, fate shifting.
"This will reshape everything," Null murmured.
Inside the doorway, Ne Job looked back.
"You coming? Or gonna stalk us from the cosmic bushes?"
Null froze.
"…I will follow."
Yue sighed. "Great. We picked up a cosmic auditor."
Ne Job grinned.
"Better than being erased."
The three stepped through—
And the chapter ended.
To Be Continued in Chapter 159.