Chapter 41 – The Misfiled MonsterThe Bureau’s filing room was legendary, but not in the good way. Entire wars had been fought in less time than it took to find a requisition form in its labyrinth of paper towers. Some documents were rumored to have achieved sentience from sheer neglect. Others had simply vanished, only to reappear decades later with mysterious coffee stains and faint screams echoing from the margins.Theo, of course, had the misfortune of being the one sent to retrieve a single form: Request for Emergency Reclassification of a Sentient Potato.“Why a potato?” he muttered as he shouldered open the filing room door. The moment he did, a wave of dust hit him like a slap.Brie followed behind, clutching a spray bottle of “Librarian’s Blessing” (a cleaning charm that smelled like lemon and regret). “Because someone,” she shot a glare at Steve, “forgot to file it under ‘Perishables – Animate.’ Instead it got shoved under ‘Potentials – Apocalypse.’”Steve shrugged, balancin

Chapter 43 – The Great Bureaucratic SiegeThe Department of Unintentional Heroics was under siege.Not from monsters, dark magic, or cosmic entities, but from something far worse: paperwork.The morning began with the thunder of carts being wheeled down the marble hallways, stacked high with scrolls, forms, complaints, and memos tied together with string. Entire battalions of overworked interns staggered under the weight of “Urgent Heroism Reports” while the Copying Pixies (tiny winged creatures addicted to duplicating anything with ink on it) buzzed overhead, gleefully multiplying every sheet into thousands more.By nine o’clock, the lobby looked less like an office and more like the aftermath of a blizzard made entirely of parchment. Theo, sitting at his desk, peered over the snowdrift of forms piling in front of him and muttered:“We’re doomed.”Brie slid into view, wielding a quill like a battle-axe. Her hair was in disarray, her sleeves rolled up, and her eyes gleamed with someth

Chapter 45 – The Council of Utterly Unqualified AdvisorsThe Department had seen chaos before—rampaging waffle cultists, exploding skeleton horses, even Brie’s “Shakespearean Mime Opera” fiasco—but nothing compared to the day The Council of Utterly Unqualified Advisors convened in Conference Room C.Conference Room C was usually reserved for minor emergencies: coffee shortages, cursed printer malfunctions, or Steve’s attempts at karaoke. Today, however, it was overflowing with every “expert” the kingdom had ever regretted listening to.At the head of the table sat Theo, slumped in his chair with a headache forming behind his eyes. Beside him, Brie twirled her hair around her finger, already making bets with herself about which advisor would faint first. Steve had a notepad titled “Definitely Important Notes” but was doodling stick figures sword fighting.Then the advisors arrived.The first to stumble in was Sir Gilderoy Pompington III, a knight famous for charging the wrong direction

Chapter 47 – A Banquet of BlundersThe Council of Interdimensional Custodians had a long-standing tradition: whenever something catastrophic-but-not-entirely-the-end-of-all-existence occurred, they hosted a banquet.According to Steve, this was because, “If you’re going to argue about who screwed up the multiverse, you may as well do it over soup.”Theo wasn’t sure what unnerved him more—that they were eating in a floating hall suspended in cosmic nothingness, or that the soup kept whispering his insecurities back at him.“Failure tastes salty,” the soup whispered.Theo set his spoon down. “Okay, I’m officially switching to bread rolls.”Brie was already gnawing on what looked like a baguette longer than a lamppost. “Smart choice. Bread never judges you.”The hall buzzed with strange representatives from across the dimensions. A gelatinous cube in formalwear discussed tax reforms with a vampire accountant. A delegation of singing mushrooms tried to harmonize the dessert menu into exis

Chapter 49 – The Bureau vs. The BureauTheo had never thought he’d live to see the day where his worst enemy would also be… his employer.The Bureau of Misplaced Affairs had always been a chaotic mess of contradictions, but now? It was eating itself alive. Quite literally.The problem began with a memo. A simple memo. It read:“Reminder: Bureau agents are not allowed to impersonate other Bureau agents for fun, profit, or lunch discounts.”No one took it seriously. After all, most agents ignored Bureau memos the way pigeons ignored “Do Not Feed” signs. But then came the impersonations.By the end of the week, three different Theos were wandering around the building, each claiming to be the real Theo. One was Theo himself. The other two were:A shapeshifting intern named Glen, who thought Theo was “easy to imitate” because his face “always looked like he’d just lost an argument with a doorknob.”An actual cardboard cutout, enchanted by Steve after a long night of experimenting with Bure