The Bureau never truly slept, but tonight it pretended to.
Lanterns dimmed to bureaucratic twilight. Quills floated idly over blank forms, awaiting divine signatures that would never come. The air tasted faintly of ink and exhaustion — the same mixture that followed every "successful reboot."
Assistant Yue didn't believe in success anymore.
She stood by the observation balcony overlooking the Central Records Hall. Below her, the restructured departments were realigning — glowing cubicles shifting into new constellations, filing spirits reorganizing reality one scroll at a time.
And Ne Job was sitting beside her, poking the faint red spiral on his palm with a paperclip.
"Yue, I think it's pulsing to the Bureau's rhythm," he said, eyes wide. "Like a heartbeat, but made of deadlines."
Yue didn't look up from her file. "Stop prodding it. It's not a pet project."
He frowned. "But what if it's trying to talk?"
"If it starts talking, we're all doomed."
She turned another page — the copy of their reassignment report. Lord Xian's seal gleamed at the top: golden, immaculate, final. But halfway down, a faint second stamp shimmered into view.
A red spiral.
It hadn't been there an hour ago.
Her pulse quickened.
"Ne Job," she said quietly. "Look at this."
He leaned in. "Oh hey — that's my new palm logo!"
Yue closed the file before he could touch it. "It's not your logo. It's the same mark from the archive. The system's integrating it into Bureau documentation."
"So it's official now?"
She glared. "That's worse!"
---
The Summons
A bell chimed from the far corridor — the rare, ominous tone reserved for high-priority summons. The scroll that appeared bore a double seal, gold and red intertwined.
SUMMON TO THE GRAND ARBITRATION HALL
Subject: Seal Conflict — Class Ω Entity
Attendees: Assistant Yue, Intern Ne Job.
Ne Job tilted his head. "We're invited to a meeting?"
Yue's face was pale. "That's not a meeting. That's a divine trial."
---
The Grand Arbitration Hall
The hall was massive, circular, lined with marble pillars carved into the likenesses of ancient gods — some glorious, some erased. Floating sigils hung in the air like constellations of law.
At the center sat Lord Bureaucrat Xian, calm as always, surrounded by golden paperwork that radiated authority.
Across from him floated a second figure — an ethereal silhouette made of ink and whispers. No face, no voice, only a shifting mass of red symbols: the Forgotten God of Paperwork.
Yue froze at the threshold. "This shouldn't be possible…"
Lord Xian's voice echoed, clear and steady. "Assistant Yue. Intern Ne Job. Step forward."
Ne Job gulped. "Do we bow to both or just one?"
"Neither," Yue muttered. "Just don't speak unless—"
"Hi! Big fan of divine bureaucracy!" Ne Job blurted.
Yue shut her eyes. Too late.
Lord Xian's expression didn't flicker. "The Bureau has identified a procedural conflict. Two active seals have claimed jurisdiction over your existence, Ne Job. One under the Living Hierarchy," — he gestured to his own golden sigil — "and one under the Forgotten Records."
The red figure pulsed in silent response.
Yue stepped forward, forcing composure. "My lord, this duality isn't intentional. It occurred during the reboot's instability. The archive—"
"Was never meant to be reopened," Lord Xian interrupted. "And yet it was."
The red figure's glyphs rippled across the chamber walls. The marble inscriptions flickered as old divine language replaced them. A whisper rolled through the hall, neither sound nor voice but policy.
> "System merges must preserve legacy entities."
"Erased records demand restoration."
"Conflict detected. Arbitration required."
Ne Job scratched his head. "So… I'm like a shared file between departments?"
Neither deity answered.
---
The Split Directive
Lord Xian raised a hand. Two scrolls appeared, floating between golden light and crimson mist.
Golden Scroll:
> Designation: Celestial Intern (Active)
Duty: Continue assisting Assistant Yue under Bureau reform protocols.
Note: Behavioral correction strongly advised.
Red Scroll:
> Designation: Legacy Fragment (Restoration)
Duty: Reclaim pending tasks left unfulfilled by the previous Ne Zha protocol.
Note: Correction process incomplete.
The scrolls spun around Ne Job, locking into orbit. His hair stood on end as divine energy crackled.
Yue's voice wavered. "You can't assign both at once — his existence can't support dual divine instructions!"
Lord Xian's eyes flashed. "The Bureau must maintain continuity."
The red presence flared brighter. Continuity must include memory.
The chamber trembled. Half the glyphs glowed gold, half crimson.
Ne Job stood in the middle, sweating ink. "Uh… which of you do I listen to first?"
Yue stepped in front of him, raising her arms as divine energy clashed around them. "Stop it! You'll tear him apart!"
The air itself split — gold and red colliding into chaotic light. Paper burst into sparks. The sound of a thousand rubber stamps echoed in disarray.
> "PROCESSING ERROR."
"AUTHORITY LOOP DETECTED."
"OVERRIDE REQUIRED."
Ne Job shouted, "Wait! I can fix this!"
He reached out and slapped both scrolls at once.
---
The Merge
A blinding flash filled the chamber. Every glyph froze midair.
Yue shielded her eyes, but through the light, she saw something impossible: the golden and red seals interlocking. For one breathless second, divine law fused — gold threads woven with crimson veins, glowing with new color.
Then came silence.
When the light faded, Ne Job was still standing… barely. His clothes were charred, his hair a chaotic halo of static. In his hands was a single scroll, shimmering with both seals merged into one.
Lord Xian rose slowly. "...What have you done?"
Ne Job blinked, smoke rising from his sleeves. "Uh… I fixed the paperwork?"
The Forgotten God's form rippled, the red glow dimming to a faint ember. Correction accepted.
Yue stepped forward, staring at the hybrid seal. "This shouldn't exist… yet it's perfectly formatted."
Lord Xian examined it with unreadable calm. "A dual-authority protocol. Never recorded, never permitted."
His gaze shifted to Ne Job. "And yet… valid."
The golden sigils in the room began adjusting, recalibrating around the merged mark. The Bureau's hierarchy itself was rewriting to accommodate the new entity type.
> Designation Added: Administrative Hybrid — Class Ω–1
Name: Ne Job (Intern from Hell / Legacy Fragment)
Authority: Undefined.
Ne Job blinked at his hand. The spiral mark glowed again — now half red, half gold. "Cool! I got a promotion?"
Yue groaned softly. "More like a cosmic bug with job security."
---
The New Directive
Lord Xian stepped closer, his tone low and deliberate. "Listen carefully, Ne Job. You are now the only being linked to both the Living Bureau and the Forgotten Archives. You will continue under Assistant Yue's supervision, but your reports must also be duplicated for… review."
"By who?" Yue asked.
The golden seals dimmed. The red light pulsed faintly.
Lord Xian's gaze didn't waver. "By whoever still listens from the other side."
The chamber darkened.
The red voice murmured, fading into the marble: The balance resumes.
And then — silence.
---
Aftermath
Back in their department, Yue leaned over her desk, head in her hands.
"Do you even realize what you just did?" she asked, voice muffled.
Ne Job sat cross-legged on the floor, the merged scroll floating above his palm like a lazy halo. "Not really, but everyone stopped shouting, so I think that's a win."
She groaned. "You've just rewritten divine jurisdiction. Again."
He smiled sheepishly. "Well… you said we needed better interdepartmental cooperation."
Yue threw a pen at him. "You're not funny."
But even as she scolded him, she glanced again at the merged scroll — that impossible union of seals.
And she couldn't deny what she saw:
For the first time in eons, both sides of Heaven's system were acknowledging the same entity.
Somewhere deep below, in the Subterranean Vault, the red ink spiraled once more — not in warning, but in agreement.
And far above, Lord Xian signed a silent order.
> Observe the intern. Do not interfere. The system is adapting.