Chapter 41: The Department of Unclaimed Heroism
The anniversary had left the Bureau in a state of quiet reflection, but the universe hates a vacuum—especially a vacuum in the shipping and receiving bay. At 08:00 Cycles, a massive, iron-bound crate fell through a portal in the ceiling, crushing a stack of "Low-Priority Daydreams" and emitting a heroic, brassy fanfare.
The label, written in flaming calligraphy, read: URGENT DELIVERY: HEROIC DESTINIES (OVERFLOW). PLEASE ASSIGN TO NEAREST PROTAGONIST.
"Commissioner!" Pip shouted, their voice sounding 7.5% more epic than usual. "The mail is glowing! And I think it's trying to give me a quest!"
The Mantle of Greatness
Ne Job arrived at the bay just as the crate burst open. It didn't contain papers or files; it contained Archetypes. Glowing capes, enchanted swords, and tragic backstories began to fly out like moths to a flame.
Before Ne Job could draw his silver stapler, a "Cape of Infinite Gravitas" latched onto his shoulders. Suddenly, his Bureau-standard trench coat transformed into a suit of midnight-black armor, and his hat grew a plume of silver feathers.
"I feel... a sudden, overwhelming urge to stand on a rainy rooftop and monologue about justice," Ne Job rumbled, his voice dropping two octaves into a gravelly bass.
"Commissioner!" Assistant Yue cried, but she was no longer a secretary. She had been hit by the "Oracle-Queen" archetype. She was now ten feet tall, glowing with celestial light, and speaking in riddles. "The threads of fate are tangled in the loom of the mundane! We must quest for the Golden Staple of Truth!"
The Bureau of High Adventure
The infection was 100% total. The Architect, Ao Bing, was now a "Drunken Master of Stone," wielding a measuring tape like a whip. The Muse had become a "Chaos Sorceress," her neon hair literally wreathed in purple lightning.
The Bureau itself began to shift. The filing cabinets became towering monoliths in a forbidden dungeon; the coffee machine became a Fountain of Eternal Stamina (which still tasted like Victory Roast, but with a hint of destiny).
"We have to file these reports!" Ne Job bellowed, slamming his fist onto a desk that turned into an altar. "For the glory of the Archive! For the honor of Section C-7!"
The Peril of the Protagonist
"This is too much!" Pip yelled, currently struggling against a "Tragic Secret" that was trying to attach itself to their utility belt. "Everyone is so busy being a hero that no one is actually doing any work! The trajectories are drifting because the staff is too busy posing for the cover art!"
Pip was right. A Bureau full of heroes is a Bureau of ego. The Architect was refusing to fix a leaky pipe because it wasn't "grand enough for his legend," and the Muse was too busy summoning dragons to notice that the paper-cranes were being scorched.
Ne Job felt the "Gravitas" pulling at him. He wanted to go on a quest. He wanted to fight a monster. But then, he looked at his desk—or the altar that used to be his desk—and saw a single, unstapled requisition form for "Lightbulbs."
The Mundane Counter-Attack
Ne Job realized that the only thing that can defeat a Heroic Destiny is Compulsory Administrative Duty.
"Yue!" Ne Job shouted, fighting the urge to brood. "Issue an Emergency Order! All 'Epic Quests' are to be treated as 'Unauthorized Leave'! Any 'Slaying of Dragons' must be preceded by a Hazard Assessment Form!"
He grabbed his silver stapler. It wasn't a holy relic; it was a tool. He used it to staple a very ordinary, yellow "REJECTED" slip directly onto his own glowing cape.
The armor flickered. The midnight-black steel turned back into tattered wool.
"I am not a hero!" Ne Job declared, his voice returning to its comfortable, grumpy baritone. "I am a High Commissioner! And I have a meeting at nine!"
The Unclaimed Returns
One by one, the staff followed his lead. They used the power of "The Ordinary" to reject "The Epic." Pip used their very small wrench to unbolt the Muse's lightning; Ao Bing used a standard ruler to measure his own ego and found it wanting.
The "Heroic Destinies" hissed and deflated, realizing they had no power over people who took pride in their paperwork. The Archetypes crawled back into their iron-bound crate, which Pip promptly taped shut with 7.5% extra-strength rainbow tape.
The Legend of the Ledger
The Bureau returned to its sturdy, un-monumental self. The "Fountain of Stamina" went back to being a slightly temperamental coffee machine.
Ne Job sat at his desk and opened his ledger.
LOG: CHAPTER 41 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Heroism averted. Office-casual restored.
NOTE: I'm keeping the silver-feathered plume for my hat. It adds a certain... authority to my scowling.
OBSERVATION: Being a hero is exhausting. I'd much rather be the person who files the hero's expense reports.
P.S.: We're shipping the crate back to the 'Department of Unclaimed Heroism' with a note: 'Try the Space Marine Sector. They love this stuff.'
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair back to its usual neon glow. "You looked good in armor, Steve—I mean, Ne Job."
Ne Job didn't look up. "One more 'Steve' and I'll quest you right out of the window, Muse."
Pip bounced in, holding a single, tiny glowing sword. "Hey! I kept a toothpick!"
Ne Job smiled. "To be continued."