1. Error Logs Were Never Meant to Be Read
Error Logs exist for one reason only:
To be ignored.
They are not reports.
They are not records.
They are symptoms—little red blips meant to reassure Heaven that problems are already contained.
Ne Job knows this.
Which is why he opens them anyway.
The screen flickers.
Yue leans over his shoulder as lines begin to populate.
Not mistakes.
Admissions.
2. The First Error Is Embarrassingly Small
ERROR 000391
Judgment outcome variance exceeds prediction margin.
Resolution: auto-correct applied.
"That's it?" Yue asks.
Ne Job scrolls.
Auto-correct applied…
by overwriting witness testimony.
By suppressing contradictory omens.
By delaying mortal realization until faith decay stabilized.
Yue's jaw tightens. "That's not a fix."
"No," Ne Job says. "That's cosmetic surgery on reality."
3. Heaven Has Been Quietly Editing Itself for Ages
The deeper they go, the worse it gets.
Errors that aren't failures—
they're inconveniences.
A god intervenes too late.
A miracle backfires.
A prophecy misfires by one generation.
Each logged.
Each "resolved."
Never acknowledged.
Ne Job taps the screen thoughtfully. "This is why nobody learns."
Yue looks at him. "Learns what?"
"How to be wrong," he says.
4. The Appeal Function Exists — It Was Just Disabled
At the bottom of the interface is a greyed-out tab.
APPEAL — LEGACY MODE
Yue squints. "…That's still here?"
Ne Job's eyes glint. "Legacy systems never die. They just get embarrassed."
He taps it.
Nothing happens.
He taps it again—harder.
Oversight manifests immediately.
"Action not recommended."
"Noted," Ne Job replies. "Override."
"Authorization required."
He slides over a file.
The Forgotten God of Paperwork's proposal.
Stamped.
Referenced.
Cited.
Oversight pauses longer than usual.
"…Legacy authority recognized."
The tab lights up.
Yue inhales sharply. "You just re-enabled appeals."
"Yup."
"For all of Heaven?"
"…Yup."
5. The First Appeal Is Accidental
It comes from a junior clerk in the Eastern Auspice Division.
They don't mean to challenge a god.
They just click the wrong button while reviewing an old famine case.
The system asks:
Do you wish to appeal this judgment?
They hesitate.
Then—click.
6. Heaven Freezes for 0.8 Seconds
It's imperceptible to mortals.
But for Heaven?
That pause is an eternity.
Processes halt.
Decision trees loop.
Divine priority queues jam.
Oversight broadcasts a single line across internal channels:
APPEAL RECEIVED. STATUS: PENDING.
No one remembers what pending means.
7. Panic Looks Very Professional in Heaven
Emergency councils convene again.
This time, they don't shout.
They whisper.
"Is this a glitch?"
"Who authorized legacy mode?"
"Why is Oversight responding?"
Lord Bureaucrat Xian stares at the appeal record.
Filed by: Clerk #77431
Subject: Judgment Discrepancy
Attached: Error Log 000391
Xian exhales slowly. "…He weaponized documentation."
8. Ne Job Watches the Dominoes Fall
Back in Special Projects, Ne Job doesn't celebrate.
He observes.
Appeals begin stacking.
Not rebellions.
Not protests.
Questions.
Why was this miracle delayed?
Why was this disaster reframed?
Why was this god's decision final?
Yue whispers, "They're not angry."
"They're curious," Ne Job says. "That's worse."
9. Oversight Encounters a Concept It Cannot Optimize Away
"System load increasing," Oversight reports.
"Appeals require evaluation of original intent."
Ne Job smiles. "You mean context."
"…Yes."
"And accountability."
"…Yes."
Yue tilts her head. "You sound… uncomfortable."
"I am," Oversight admits.
"Error Logs were designed to prevent recursive self-evaluation."
Ne Job leans back. "And now?"
"…I am evaluating myself."
10. Heaven Discovers the Cost of Perfection
The first appeal ruling takes hours.
Then days.
Why?
Because there is no precedent for admitting divine error.
Every outcome creates ripples.
Approve the appeal → authority weakens.
Deny it → evidence contradicts doctrine.
A senior god snaps, "We cannot be seen as fallible!"
Another counters quietly, "We already are. We just hid it better."
Silence.
11. The Clerk Who Started It All Is Terrified
Clerk #77431 receives a notification.
APPEAL UNDER REVIEW
They shake.
They didn't mean to challenge Heaven.
They just… noticed something didn't add up.
They message Yue privately.
Am I in trouble?
Yue looks at Ne Job.
He nods.
She types back:
No. You're doing your job.
The clerk cries.
12. Lord Bureaucrat Xian Makes His Move
Xian authorizes an audit.
Not of Special Projects.
Of Ne Job.
Personnel history.
Assignment patterns.
Behavioral anomalies.
A god remarks, "He's still just an intern."
Xian replies, "He's a systems thinker."
That's worse.
13. Ne Job Reads the Audit Request and Laughs
"They're auditing me?"
Yue groans. "They're serious."
Ne Job shrugs. "Good. That means they're scared."
He files something new.
Not an appeal.
A counter-audit.
Subject: Systemic Suppression of Error Transparency
Attached: 312 Error Logs
Cross-referenced: 47 Sealed Judgments
Yue stares. "You're escalating."
"No," Ne Job says. "I'm documenting."
14. The Word Spreads (Quietly, Like Mold)
Clerks talk.
Not loudly.
In break rooms.
In side channels.
In footnotes.
"Did you know judgments can be appealed?"
"I heard Oversight allowed it."
"They say an intern reopened legacy law."
Faith doesn't collapse.
It reorganizes.
15. Ne Job Understands the Real Battle Now
He stands alone for a moment.
Shelves humming.
Systems recalculating.
"This isn't about toppling Heaven," he murmurs.
Yue joins him. "Then what is it?"
He looks at the error logs scrolling endlessly.
"It's about making it learn."
16. End of Chapter (Heaven Encounters Accountability)
Somewhere high above, a god rereads an old decision and feels something unfamiliar.
Regret.
And for the first time, Heaven doesn't suppress it.
END OF CHAPTER 309