1. The Page Does Not Like Hesitation
The blank page trembled.
Not violently. Not angrily.
Like it was nervous.
Ne Job held the Audit Pen with both hands, knuckles white.
"Okay," he muttered. "Nobody blink. Gods hate that."
The Forgotten God of Paperwork loomed over the page, massive fingers hovering millimeters above the surface.
Oversight's sigil rotated faster.
"THIS ACTION IS UNAUTHORIZED," Oversight intoned.
Qi-Yun didn't look away.
"Everything meaningful is."
The page inhaled.
Yes—inhaled.
Ink seeped upward like breath made visible.
2. Qi-Yun Explains the Unthinkable (Very Quickly)
"Ne Job," Qi-Yun said calmly, "you are not rewriting him."
Ne Job whispered back, "That's good because I have no idea how."
"You are re-scoping him."
The god's many eyes narrowed.
"YOU WOULD REDUCE ME?"
Qi-Yun shook his head.
"No. We would focus you."
He gestured at the infinite forms spilling from the god's sleeves.
"You were buried because you tried to process everything."
The god stiffened.
"IT WAS MY PURPOSE."
"And that," Qi-Yun said gently, "is why you broke."
The page pulsed.
Ne Job felt it—pressure behind his eyes. Not pain.
Expectation.
3. Oversight Tries to Shut It Down (It Fails)
The sigil flared brighter.
"AMENDMENT DENIED.
SYSTEM INTEGRITY AT RISK."
Yue stepped forward, voice sharp.
"System integrity already failed. That's why we exist."
Oversight recalculated.
"DEPARTMENT OF IRREGULARITIES EXCEEDS ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS."
Ne Job swallowed.
"Yeah. That's kind of our brand."
The badge on his chest warmed.
Undefined clearance did not glow. It asserted.
The sigil flickered.
Qi-Yun's eyes widened—just a little.
"…You're anchoring it."
Ne Job blinked.
"I am?"
"Yes," Qi-Yun said.
"You're giving Oversight something it can't optimize away."
"What?"
Qi-Yun smiled thinly.
"Responsibility."
4. The Forgotten God Speaks (Not Loud—Worse)
The god finally lowered his hand.
One finger touched the page.
The Archive screamed—then fell silent.
"I REMEMBER…
EVERY FORM.
EVERY SIGNATURE.
EVERY LIFE SEALED BY INK."
The page filled—not with words, but memories.
Clerks bent under impossible workloads. Mortals trapped in loops. Gods crushed by their own regulations.
Yue's breath hitched.
"He didn't just process paperwork," she whispered. "He processed existence."
Ne Job's throat tightened.
"…That's too much for anyone."
The god looked at him.
"IT WAS TOO MUCH.
AND THEY LEFT ME THERE."
The page darkened at the edges.
Anger.
Grief.
Centuries of being ignored by the system he built.
5. Ne Job Writes the First Line
Ne Job lowered the pen.
His hand shook.
Qi-Yun did not stop him.
Yue held her breath.
The pen touched the page.
Words appeared—uneven, human.
FUNCTION AMENDMENT (DRAFT):
The Forgotten God of Paperwork shall no longer process everything.
The god stiffened.
"CONTINUE."
Ne Job swallowed and wrote again.
He shall oversee exceptions, not rules.
He shall guard what does not fit, not crush it.
The page glowed faintly.
Oversight pulsed wildly.
"THIS CREATES AN UNDEFINED ZONE."
Ne Job looked up.
"Yeah," he said.
"We live there."
6. Resistance (Because Of Course)
The god roared.
Not in rage.
In fear.
"IF I LET GO…
WHAT AM I?"
The page wavered.
The room shook.
Qi-Yun stepped in—placing his hand over Ne Job's.
"You become what you were always meant to be," he said softly.
"A safeguard. Not a cage."
Yue added, voice steady despite the tremor:
"And you won't be alone again."
The god hesitated.
The Archive leaned closer.
7. The Amendment Takes Hold
The god exhaled.
Paper fell from his shoulders. Forms dissolved into light.
The page finalized itself.
A seal appeared—not APPROVED, not DENIED.
Just one word:
AMENDED
The Forgotten God shrank.
Not diminished.
Refined.
The weight in the room lifted like a long-held breath finally released.
Oversight's sigil dimmed—fractured.
"…CHANGE ACCEPTED," it said, slower than before.
Ne Job collapsed into a chair that hadn't existed until he needed it.
"…Did we just fix a god?"
Qi-Yun sat heavily beside him.
"No," he said.
"You gave him a future."
8. Aftermath: A New Colleague
The god—no longer towering—stood before them.
Still ancient. Still terrifying.
But present.
"I WILL STAY," he said.
"AND I WILL WATCH THE CRACKS."
Ne Job nodded.
"Welcome to the department."
Yue smiled, exhausted.
Qi-Yun closed his eyes briefly.
The office lights steadied.
The door unlocked.
A new nameplate slid onto an empty desk:
GOD OF EXCEPTIONS
(Formerly Forgotten)
Ne Job stared at it.
"…We're going to need a bigger orientation packet."
Somewhere in Heaven, a rule quietly stopped hurting people.
END OF CHAPTER 262