Chapter 84: The Shadow Strike
The Bureau had handled physical threats and metaphysical meltdowns, but at 13:00 Cycles, the threat became Subtractive. As the Narrative Sun reached its zenith above the vellum sky, the shadows on the floor didn't just lengthen—they Peeled.
One by one, the dark silhouettes of the staff detached from their heels with a sound like tearing silk.
"Commissioner!" Assistant Yue buzzed, her own shadow currently scurrying up the wall and rearranging the "Protocol Posters" into abstract art. "WE. ARE. EXPERIENCING. A. 'DISSOCIATIVE. ECLIPSE'. OUR. SHADOWS. HAVE. DEVELOPED. 100%. INDEPENDENCE. THEY. ARE. THE. UNEXPRESSED. DESIRES. OF. THE. STAFF. AND. THEY. ARE. CURRENTLY. FORMING. A. 'REBEL. UNION'."
The Revolt of the Darker Half
The Lobby was suddenly filled with silent, two-dimensional rebels.
Ne Job's Shadow was much taller than he was, wearing a shadow-hat with a plume that reached the ceiling. It wasn't filing reports; it was leaning against a pillar, looking 7.5% more relaxed and "Cool" than the real Ne Job.
The Muse's Shadow wasn't sparking; it was brooding in a corner, writing "Dark Poetry" on the floorboards in charcoal.
Pip's Shadow had taken a shadow-wrench and was systematically "De-Bolting" the logic of the stairs.
"Hey! That's my identity you're dragging across the carpet!" Pip yelled, lunging for their shadow, only to have their hands pass right through the floor.
"You can't catch them with your hands!" Architect Ao Bing cried, his own shadow currently doing a 100% accurate, yet insulting, impression of him being stressed. "They're made of 'Lack of Light'! They're the things we don't do!"
The 7.5% Identity Crisis
The shadows weren't just causing mischief; they were filing Rebel Trajectories. They were writing a version of the future where the Bureau was a jazz club and the Great Mainspring was a disco ball.
"They're overwriting the 'Real' with the 'Suppressed'!" The Muse gasped, feeling herself grow 7.5% paler as her shadow absorbed her depth. "If we don't get them back, we'll become 'Flat Characters'!"
Ne Job realized that a character without a shadow is just a sketch. You need your "Dark Side" to have Weight.
The Staple of Self-Alignment
"Junior! Get the 'High-Intensity Spotlights'! Assistant Yue, I need 'Industrial-Strength Narrative Adhesive'!"
Ne Job realized that you couldn't force a shadow back. You had to make the "Light" so strong that the shadow had no choice but to Align.
He pulled out the Semicolon. He didn't use it to stop the shadows; he used it to Connect the Ego to the Alter-Ego. He positioned himself between the Narrative Sun and his rebellious shadow.
"You want to be cool?" Ne Job whispered to the tall, dark silhouette. "Fine. But you do it on my time."
He fired the silver stapler. KA-CHUNK! The staple didn't hit the floor; it pinned the Semicolon's violet light to the point where the shadow touched his heels. The "And" of the Semicolon acted as a bridge, forcing the shadow to realize it couldn't exist without the man.
The Re-Attachment
One by one, Ne Job used the Semicolon-Staples to anchor the rebel shadows back to their owners.
KA-CHUNK! The Muse's shadow returned, bringing back her depth and complexity.
KA-CHUNK! Pip's shadow was pinned, and they immediately felt 7.5% more grounded (and 100% less likely to dismantle the stairs).
As the shadows were tethered, the "Rebel Jazz Club" faded, and the Bureau returned to its sturdy, mahogany reality.
The Archivist's Log
Ne Job stood in the center of the Lobby, checking his feet. His shadow was back, properly aligned and once again looking like a very busy man with a plumed hat.
LOG: CHAPTER 84 SUMMARY.
STATUS: Shadows re-attached. Identity crisis averted.
NOTE: I've allowed my shadow a 7.5% 'Coolness Allowance.' It can wear the hat at a jaunty angle on Fridays.
OBSERVATION: To be a 'Full Character,' you have to embrace the parts of you that stay in the dark.
P.S.: Assistant Yue's shadow is still trying to type on the ceiling. I've told her to just let it finish its 'Dark Manifesto' and it'll come down eventually.
The Muse leaned over his shoulder, her hair back to its electric-neon blue. "You looked a little worried there, Ne Job. Afraid your shadow was going to file a better report than you?"
Ne Job looked at the Semicolon. It was glowing with a deep, complex violet.
"I'm not worried about the reports, Muse," Ne Job said. "Now, why is Assistant Yue sounding a 7.5% alarm and why has a Giant Silver Mirror appeared in the ceiling, but instead of reflecting us, it's showing The Author's Desktop?"