Time Breaking Open
The first sound to return was breathing.
Not Ne Job's frantic wheezing. Not Yue's controlled breaths.
But hundreds—no, thousands—of breaths, all resuming at once like a choir of panicked lungs. The frozen clerks inhaled mid-scream. Memos resumed flapping. Papers resumed crashing to the floor. A cup of coffee finished its pour, overflowing instantly. Dreivery Spirit Bao tumbled out of mid-air and face-planted into his floating crate with a thud.
Time snapped back like an elastic band.
Except—
Not correctly.
The Bureau flickered.
Reality staggered in place.
Ne Job gripped the floor as gravity briefly forgot how to behave. His stomach flipped as the walls oscillated between marble, parchment, raw aether, and something like… skin?
"Oh," he whimpered. "That's not good. That's not GOOD."
Yue didn't answer—because she was too busy shielding him from the chronal core hovering inches away.
The sphere pulsed. Its molten cheese membrane expanded and folded into fractal patterns, each one bending light and time into nauseating spirals.
"ANCHOR RECOGNITION: COMPLETE."
Yue braced herself.
Ne Job hid behind her.
The sphere rotated toward Lord Xian's bound form.
"CODIFIER SEAL: OBSOLETE."
The chains rattled wildly, scripts flaring like panicked animals struggling against a predator they had once caged.
Ne Job swallowed. "Yue… what does 'obsolete' mean?"
"It means," Yue said, tightening her grip on her manual, "that whatever placed those chains on Lord Xian is older than the Core—and the Core considers it beneath notice."
"That sounds very much like the opposite of reassuring."
"It is."
Great.
Absolutely fantastic.
---
The Core Begins to Speak
The chronal seed pulsed, expanding into a larger sphere.
Glyphs dripped from its surface like molten text—squiggling, reshaping, rewriting themselves mid-air. Each time a glyph touched the sanctum floor, the marble warped, aged, reverted, and then flatlined in a dead grey smear.
"INTERN ANCHOR," the sphere intoned, fixing all of its infinite eyes—Ne Job felt like it had infinite eyes—onto him.
"SUBJECT: NE JOB."
Yue stepped in front of him so fast he nearly fell.
"You will not touch him."
The sphere paused. Its glow dimmed slightly, almost as if confused.
"ANCHOR PROTECTION DETECTED."
Yue's fingers tightened around her manual. Her stance shifted—the one reserved for emergency intervention protocols.
Ne Job whispered, "Why does it sound surprised?"
"Because Anchor status is not something assigned by mortal hierarchy," Yue said. "Anchor is a cosmic role. A stabilizing point. A living fulcrum."
Ne Job's voice cracked. "I don't want to be a fulcrum! I want to be a normal unpaid intern!"
The sphere hummed.
"ANCHOR IS NOT OPTIONAL."
He whimpered.
Yue stepped forward. "Chronal Seed. State your purpose."
The sphere responded instantly.
"PURPOSE: COMPLETE PROTOCOL DELTA-NULL."
Ne Job felt faint.
"That's the phrase!" he squeaked. "The First Fragment Room! The Codifier memory wipe thing! The thing that made me forget EVERYTHING!"
Yue didn't take her eyes off the core. "Yes."
"And this stupid glowing pizza seed wants to finish the job?!"
"No," the core said.
Ne Job blinked.
Yue froze.
The sphere pulsed.
"CORRECTION: THE CODIFIERS EDITED NE JOB'S MEMORY TO REMOVE ANCHOR INSTABILITY."
"…Right," Ne Job said slowly. "And you want to finish the edit?"
"NO."
The sphere glowed brighter.
"THE CODIFIERS' EDIT WAS IMPROPER."
Yue's eyes widened. "Improper? As in—"
"INVALID," the core thundered. "INCOMPLETE. UNSANCTIONED."
Ne Job threw his hands up. "WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!"
The sphere turned toward him.
"ANCHOR NE JOB—YOUR MEMORY WAS ALTERED WITHOUT ROOT ACCESS."
"Root access," Ne Job repeated. "Like… administrator privileges?"
"Yes," Yue said quietly. "This Seed is an elder system. It predates the Bureau. Predates Heaven's paperwork. Predates… almost everything."
"SO," the sphere boomed. "THE UNAUTHORIZED EDIT MUST BE REPAIRED."
Repair.
Repair?
Repair?!
Ne Job pointed aggressively at Yue. "Yue. Tell the cosmic cheese ball that I like my memory the way it is! Chaos, trauma, missing childhood—it's fine! I'm used to it!"
Yue touched his shoulder.
"Ne Job…"
Her eyes softened.
"Think. What if your memory holds the missing connection to why you were made Anchor?"
He froze.
Because that question—
Was the one thing he was terrified to ask.
---
The Chains Begin to Move
Before Ne Job could respond, Lord Xian's chains jerked violently.
Runes exploded across the sanctum.
The very air screamed.
Pieces of the ceiling shattered into frozen shards mid-fall as the chains contracted around the High Director's chest, pulling him unnaturally upright.
And then—
His mouth opened.
But not his voice.
A different voice.
A voice so old it felt like the world's bones were cracking.
"THE ANCHOR IS NOT TO BE RESTORED."
Yue stepped back sharply. "Codifier possession. Xian's being used as a conduit!"
The Core flared brighter.
"DENIED."
The chains recoiled.
The possessed voice shrieked through Xian's body:
"THE ELEMENT OF CHAOS CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO RESURFACE—"
The Core's voice cut through like a divine blade:
"ANCHOR MUST BE WHOLE TO STABILIZE THE UPCOMING CORRECTION."
Ne Job felt dizzy. "Correction?! What correction?! Nobody told me anything about being corrected! I already got corrected once! They gave me a performance review that lasted three days!"
Yue's eyes darted between the Seed and Lord Xian, calculating.
"Ne Job," she said firmly. "We need to keep the Seed safe. And we need to keep Lord Xian alive."
Ne Job threw his hands up. "Yue, we can't even keep a pizza contained! How are we supposed to contain—"
Lord Xian's body jerked violently.
His eyes—filled with Codifier script—locked onto Yue.
"YOU," the voice hissed. "MANUAL SPIRIT'S CHOSEN HEIR. STEP ASIDE."
Yue didn't move.
"I refuse."
The chains writhed.
The sphere flared.
The air split.
---
The Battle That Should Not Exist
Reality folded.
Literally folded.
Like someone grabbed the sanctum and bent it into origami.
Ne Job watched in horror as the walls inverted, the ceiling twisted, the floor rippled like liquid parchment.
The chronal seed expanded its energy field, stabilizing a bubble around them.
"ANCHOR," it boomed. "STAND BY."
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS!"
Yue grabbed his wrist. "It means don't die!"
"Oh GOOD, GREAT, WONDERFUL—"
The Codifier chains erupted off Lord Xian's body like serpents made of ancient law. They struck toward Ne Job and Yue with killing intent.
The chronal core intercepted—
Time dilated—
Chains slowed—
Then shattered mid-air.
Each fragment disintegrated into ancient glyphs.
Lord Xian collapsed to one knee, still wrapped in remnants of script.
The Codifier voice shrieked from the residue:
"THE ANCHOR MUST NOT REMEMBER—!"
The chronal core overrode it:
"THE ANCHOR MUST REMEMBER TO FULFILL FUNCTION."
Ne Job grabbed Yue's arm. "Okay! We're leaving! We're leaving RIGHT NOW!"
Yue tightened her grip on her manual.
"No."
"NO?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?! YUE, THE ROOM IS EATING ITSELF!"
"Ne Job…" Yue's voice softened. "This is about your autonomy."
He blinked.
"What?"
"You deserve to know who you were. Who you are. Why they made you Anchor. And why they were willing to rewrite your entire existence to keep that hidden."
He froze.
The chronal seed rose over him.
"ANCHOR—PREPARE FOR MEMORY REPAIR."
Ne Job's heart pounded.
His vision blurred.
His throat tightened.
"Yue… if I remember everything… what if I'm not me anymore?"
Yue stepped closer.
"You will be you," she said softly. "Just… a whole you."
Her hand brushed his.
And for the first time—
He didn't feel like an intern.
He felt like someone important.
Someone chosen.
Someone dangerous.
He exhaled.
"Okay," he whispered. "Do it."
The chronal seed shrank into a single burning point.
"INITIATING ANCHOR RESTORATION."
The Codifier chains screeched in fury.
Lord Xian collapsed fully but breathed.
Yue held Ne Job's hand.
Light consumed him.
And the chapter ends here.
---
END OF CHAPTER 151 — "The Bureau Begins to Wake (And So Does Something Else)"