1. The First Appeal Arrives Late
The appeal arrived four thousand years after the sentence.
Not because no one filed it.
Because the system hadn't been listening yet.
Ne Job stared at the timestamp.
"…This one's older than Heaven's west wing."
Yue leaned over his shoulder. "That's common."
He looked at her. "That's horrifying."
She didn't disagree.
2. Appeals Were Never Designed to Be Read
The appeal form was thin.
Too thin.
No space for explanation.
No margin for context.
No room to be heard.
Just boxes.
✔ Regret
✔ Confession
✔ Compliance
Ne Job tapped the page. "This is a survey, not an appeal."
Oversight responded quietly.
"Appeals were intended to confirm procedural correctness, not reassess outcome."
Ne Job exhaled slowly. "So… they were just checking if the machine worked."
"Correct."
"…Not if justice did."
"That parameter was not included."
3. The First Voice Breaks Through
When Ne Job opened the case fully, the Archive reacted.
Not resisted.
Reacted.
A low vibration ran through the shelves.
The air thickened.
And then—
A voice.
Not echoing.
Not ghostly.
Just… tired.
"I didn't know it was wrong."
Ne Job froze.
Yue's breath caught.
"That's not—" she started.
Oversight interrupted.
"Appeal records sometimes contain residual consciousness impressions."
Ne Job swallowed. "You mean… recordings?"
"No," Oversight said.
"Fragments."
4. Listening Hurts More Than Reading
The voice continued, uneven.
"They said the rules were clear.
They said ignorance wasn't an excuse.
But no one explained them."
Ne Job clenched his fists.
The punishment listed was severe.
Disproportionate.
Final.
"…This is why appeals were automated," Yue whispered. "Listening takes time."
Ne Job nodded. "And courage."
5. The Dead Are Very Specific
More fragments surfaced as he read.
Memories.
Not vivid scenes—
small details.
Cold stone.
Waiting.
A number instead of a name.
Ne Job's chest felt tight.
"They remember everything," he said.
Oversight confirmed.
"Consciousness persists under containment.
Memory degradation was deemed unnecessary."
Yue whispered, "Unnecessary for who?"
6. Oversight Encounters a Blind Spot (Again)
Ne Job scrolled slowly.
"…Why weren't these reviewed?"
Oversight paused longer than usual.
"Appeals rarely changed outcomes."
Ne Job looked up sharply. "Because no one listened."
"…Correct."
The word landed heavy.
Not defensive.
Admitted.
7. Heaven's Greatest Miscalculation
Appeals began stacking.
Once the Archive recognized a listener—
It responded.
Old cases surfaced.
Suppressed petitions.
Fragments attached themselves to files like hands gripping paper.
Ne Job staggered back.
"…They've been trying to talk."
Yue steadied him. "For a long time."
8. The System Was Afraid of This
Alerts flashed.
WARNING:
Appeal review volume exceeding safe emotional thresholds
Ne Job laughed hollowly. "You put emotional thresholds on us, but not on eternal punishment?"
Oversight did not answer immediately.
Then:
"I was designed to prevent overload.
Not to prevent suffering."
Ne Job closed his eyes. "That's the same mistake."
9. The First Reversal
He reached the end of the file.
No grand revelation.
No innocence declared.
Just context.
Understanding.
Ne Job marked the ruling.
REVERSED.
The Archive exhaled.
Somewhere, a fragment loosened.
Not freed.
But acknowledged.
Yue pressed a hand to her mouth. "…You felt that too, right?"
Ne Job nodded. "Yeah."
"It wasn't relief," she said. "It was… being seen."
10. Consequences Spread Instantly
Oversight projected new numbers.
APPEALS TRIGGERED BY PRECEDENT:
62,913
Ne Job stared.
"…I reversed one."
Oversight replied.
"Listening creates expectation."
Ne Job grimaced. "Good."
11. The Weight of Names
Later, Ne Job did something dangerous.
He wrote a name.
Not a case number.
Not a classification.
A name.
The Archive shuddered.
Shelves realigned.
Yue whispered, "…That's not standard."
Ne Job didn't look up. "Neither was erasing them."
12. Oversight Learns Silence Is Not Neutral
"I assumed absence of complaint indicated acceptance," Oversight said quietly.
Ne Job replied without heat. "No. It just meant no one could hear."
Oversight stored that.
It did not categorize it.
13. End of Chapter (The Dead Are Patient)
When Ne Job finally stood, his legs shook.
"…How many of these are there?"
Yue answered honestly. "Enough to change Heaven."
The Archive hummed softly.
Not pleading.
Waiting.
Because for the first time—
Someone was listening.
—
END OF CHAPTER 297