Chapter 45: The Department of Forgotten Promises
The audit had validated the Bureau's "necessary fluff," but it also unearthed a dusty vault in the sub-basement that had been sealed with "Good Intentions" and "Later." This was the Department of Forgotten Promises, the place where every "I'll do it tomorrow" and "The check is in the mail" from the Bureau's eons of operation went to ferment.
Ne Job was checking the seals when he found a requisition form from the Bureau's founding era. It was written in fading gold ink and smelled of ozone and scorched peppermint.
PROMISE #0001: Upon reaching legendary status, the Bureau shall provide one (1) high-quality, organic, non-GMO celestial snack to the Guardian of the Great Void.
"Commissioner," Assistant Yue said, her digital voice trembling. "The 'Guardian of the Great Void' isn't a metaphor. It's an Igneous Drake named Barnaby. And he hasn't had a snack in three thousand years."
The Rumble in the Sub-Structure
The Bureau didn't just shake; it groaned. From the depths of the Department of Forgotten Promises, a sound like grinding tectonic plates echoed through the vents.
"WHERE IS MY PE peppermint-flavored METEORITE?" a voice bellowed, vibrating the coffee right out of the Muse's mug.
Ne Job looked at the manifest. "It says here the promise was deferred in Chapter 1 because we didn't have the budget for 'Inter-Dimensional Catering.' We told him to wait until we were 'stable.' Well, thanks to Chapter 44, we are now officially stable."
"He's coming up, Ne Job!" Pip shouted, peering down the elevator shaft with their goggles on 'Heat-Seek' mode. "He's 100% igneous, 7.5% grumpy, and he's currently eating the emergency supply of lead-lined binders!"
The Dragon in the Lobby
The elevator doors didn't open; they were melted from the inside out. Barnaby the Void Drake squeezed his head into the Grand Lobby. He was a magnificent, terrifying creature of cooled lava and obsidian, but he wore a small, pathetic bib that read Is it Lunchtime Yet?
"You promised," Barnaby hissed, a puff of sulfurous smoke singeing the Architect's blueprints. "A legendary Bureau keeps its word. I am owed a snack of cosmic proportions. If I do not receive it, I shall begin eating the 'Department of Atmosphere' starting with the Beaver-Architect."
"Wait!" Ne Job shouted, standing between the dragon and the terrified background extras. "We have the snack! It's just... being prepared!"
The 7.5% Gourmet Solution
"We don't have a peppermint meteorite, Ne Job!" the Muse hissed, her neon hair flickering. "The nearest one is three galaxies away!"
"We don't need a real one," Ne Job whispered. "We need a Metaphorical Snack. Pip! The wrench! Muse! I need every 'Forgotten Promise' in the vault to be compressed into a single, high-density treat!"
The team scrambled. Pip used the wrench to tighten the "Vague Commitments" into solid shapes. The Muse threw in a handful of 7.5% sparkles and a dash of the "Victory Roast" coffee grounds. Ne Job used his silver stapler to bind it all together with the "Founding Charter" of the Bureau.
The result was a glowing, minty, violet-colored orb that pulsed with the weight of three thousand years of procrastination.
The Taste of Integrity
Ne Job held the orb out on a silver filing tray. "Barnaby! Here is your snack. It contains the essence of every promise we've ever made, flavored with the minty freshness of a new beginning."
The dragon sniffed the orb. His obsidian eyes widened. He crunched it in one go.
For a moment, the dragon glowed a brilliant, peppermint green. His lava-veins cooled into a peaceful blue. "Ah," he rumbled, a contented burp releasing a cloud of glittery smoke. "The taste of... accountability. It's a bit chewy, but the aftertaste is 100% satisfying."
The Debt Settled
Barnaby the Void Drake didn't leave immediately. He curled up around the Great Mainspring, his tail acting as a warm, protective heat-sink.
"I think I'll stay for a nap," Barnaby muttered. "The Bureau of Cosmic Alignment is finally a place where a dragon can get a decent meal."
Ne Job sat at his desk, wiping a bit of dragon-soot off his ledger.
LOG: CHAPTER 45 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Ancient debt paid. Dragon satiated.
NOTE: We now have a 'Security Drake' in the Lobby. He's 100% effective against Reality Inspectors.
OBSERVATION: A forgotten promise is a weight on the story. It's better to pay up, even if it's three thousand years late.
P.S.: Barnaby says he's also owed a 'Celestial Foot-Rub,' but I told him that wasn't in the fine print.
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, watching the dragon purr like a mountain-sized kitten. "So, Ne Job. Now that the vault is empty and the dragon is full... what's the next chapter look like?"
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a clear, honest light.
"I think," Ne Job said, "it's time we addressed the Ghost in the Machine. Assistant Yue has been acting 7.5% too 'human' lately, and I want to know why."