1. Life After the Diagnosis
Heaven did not panic.
That would have been emotional.
Instead, it adjusted.
Ne Job felt it immediately—not as pressure, not as fear, but as absence.
No notices. No warnings. No hovering labels.
The tag above his head faded to a dull, steady glow:
ACTIVE ANOMALY
STATUS: CHRONIC
MANAGEMENT STRATEGY: AVOIDANCE
Ne Job stared upward.
"…They just gave up?"
Qi-Yun shook his head. "No," he said.
"They learned."
Ling squinted down the corridor. "Why do I suddenly feel like we're radioactive?"
Because they were.
2. The Quiet Quarantine
People didn't run from Ne Job.
They didn't stare.
They just… detoured.
Corridors subtly rerouted. Meetings rescheduled themselves. Tasks that would have put Ne Job near critical systems quietly vanished from his workload.
Heaven didn't isolate him with walls.
It isolated him with politeness.
Ne Job stood in an empty work hall holding a stack of forms no one had assigned him.
"…Did I get fired?"
Yue shook her head.
"No," she said. "You got sidelined."
Qi-Yun crossed his arms. "A chronic condition is managed by minimizing exposure," he said. "To you."
Ne Job winced. "Wow. That's… efficient."
3. Heaven Tries to Starve the Problem
Days passed.
Nothing broke near Ne Job.
Nothing jammed. Nothing collapsed. Nothing needed fixing.
It was the calmest Heaven had been since his arrival.
Ne Job hated it.
He paced. Tried to help. Found nothing within reach.
Ling flopped onto a bench. "They're starving you of relevance."
Qi-Yun nodded. "A classic containment strategy."
Ne Job clenched his fists.
"…So if I don't act, they win."
Qi-Yun met his gaze. "And if you force action," he said, "they'll justify harsher containment."
Yue watched Ne Job carefully.
"There's another cost," she said softly.
Ne Job looked at her. "What?"
"They're not just protecting the system from you," Yue said. "They're protecting you from the system."
Ne Job froze.
4. The Weight of Not Acting
That night, Ne Job dreamed of queues.
Endless. Silent. Everyone waiting politely while something small broke and never got fixed.
He woke with his heart pounding.
"I can feel it," he whispered to Yue, who was already awake beside him. "Things are breaking somewhere. I just… can't see them."
Yue nodded. "That's the hardest kind."
Ne Job sat up. "…I don't want to be dangerous."
Yue smiled sadly. "You already are."
"That's not comforting."
"No," she agreed. "It's honest."
5. Qi-Yun Explains the Long Game
Qi-Yun found Ne Job at dawn, staring at a blank assignment board.
"Heaven will not attack you now," Qi-Yun said. "They will adapt around you."
Ne Job frowned. "Isn't that… okay?"
Qi-Yun shook his head. "Adaptation is slower than correction," he said. "And it spreads the cost outward."
Ne Job's stomach sank.
"…They're letting others absorb the damage."
"Yes," Qi-Yun said quietly. "Because you are too expensive to deploy."
Ling muttered, "Congratulations. You broke the budget."
6. The Unintended Victim
The news came quietly.
A junior clerk—one Ne Job recognized—collapsed during a double shift. Overloaded. Covering a gap Ne Job would have filled instinctively.
Ne Job stared at the report.
"I could've helped."
Qi-Yun didn't deny it.
"But you didn't," Ne Job whispered. "And that was the point, wasn't it?"
Yue placed a hand on his shoulder. "They didn't stop the work," she said. "They redistributed it."
Ne Job's jaw tightened.
"…That's worse."
"Yes," Yue said. "It always is."
7. The System's Blind Spot
Heaven had accounted for Ne Job's actions.
It had not accounted for his absence.
Small inefficiencies accumulated. Micro-failures stacked. Morale dipped. Burnout spread quietly.
Ne Job saw it now—not through alarms, but through people.
Tired eyes. Short tempers. Longer lines.
Ling watched him watching them.
"You're itching again," she said.
Ne Job nodded. "I can't fix everything."
Qi-Yun's voice was steady.
"No," he said. "But you can choose where to matter."
8. The Quietest Rebellion
Ne Job didn't intervene directly.
He didn't nudge carts. Didn't reroute tasks.
Instead—
He talked.
He listened. He asked questions that made people stop and think.
"Why is this done this way?" "What happens if it waits?" "Who gets hurt if no one touches it?"
No authority. No action. Just perspective.
Yue watched it spread.
Not like a pattern.
Like permission.
Qi-Yun exhaled slowly.
"…That's worse than action," he murmured.
Ne Job glanced at him. "Why?"
"Because you're no longer the vector," Qi-Yun said. "You're the catalyst."
9. Heaven Notices Too Late
Reports surfaced.
Not of anomalies. Not of violations.
Of attitude shifts.
ISSUE: DECLINING PASSIVE COMPLIANCE
CAUSE: UNDETERMINED
NOTE: NO SINGLE SOURCE IDENTIFIABLE
The Oversight algorithms hesitated.
No leverage. No target. No clean fix.
Ne Job felt the attention return—not sharp, but wary.
Ling grinned. "They lost you."
Ne Job swallowed. "I didn't mean to disappear."
Qi-Yun looked at him carefully.
"That," he said, "is exactly how chronic conditions become endemic."
10. Yue Names the Truth
That evening, Yue and Ne Job stood on a quiet balcony overlooking Heaven's endless corridors.
"I think I understand now," Ne Job said.
Yue waited.
"They don't hate me," he said slowly. "They hate what happens when I'm around."
Yue nodded.
"And when you're not."
Ne Job laughed weakly. "So what am I supposed to do?"
Yue met his eyes.
"Live," she said. "Carefully. Intentionally."
Ne Job frowned. "That sounds exhausting."
Yue smiled. "It is."
The label above Ne Job's head shimmered faintly.
ACTIVE ANOMALY
STATUS: CHRONIC
PROGNOSIS: PERSISTENT
Ne Job leaned on the railing.
"…I'm not going away, am I."
Yue shook her head.
"No," she said. "And neither is the system."
They stood there together, watching Heaven quietly adjust to a problem it could not cure—
only endure.
Somewhere deep within the Archive, Oversight recalculated.
Not how to remove Ne Job.
But how to survive him.
END OF CHAPTER 232