Department of unintentional Heroics

Chapter 1: Form B-27C (And Other Ways to Ruin Your Life)

Theo Crumble had one goal that morning: renew his government-issued ID before lunchtime.

It was a modest, reasonable goal. Nothing heroic. Nothing dangerous. Just a simple visit to the Bureau of Magical Affairs and Civic Paperwork—a crusty, gray building that smelled like burnt toast and disappointment.

He had even dressed for efficiency: hoodie, sweatpants, flip-flops. A power combo that screamed, “Please don’t talk to me; I’m here to survive, not thrive.”

The queue inside the Bureau was already a tragedy. Lines coiled through the building like a dragon with indigestion. The air conditioning wheezed like it was giving its final breath. A sign on the wall read:

"Take a Number. Take a Breath. Accept Your Fate."

Theo sighed and grabbed ticket #404, which he took as a bad omen.

He spent the next three hours flipping through outdated magazines and dodging the gaze of a wizard who was trying to turn the water cooler into a girlfriend.

Then finally—blessedly—his number was called.

“Window Seven,” the bored voice barked through the crackling intercom.

Theo shuffled up to the counter, where a woman with cat-eye glasses and a permanent scowl peered over a mountain of paperwork. Her name tag read: "Linda (Level 7 Bureaucrat – DO NOT ANGER)."

"ID renewal?" she asked, without looking up.

"Yeah, just need a new one. The old one got... uh, eaten."

Linda didn’t ask for clarification, which Theo appreciated.

She shoved a clipboard through the window. “Fill this out. All of it. No spell ink. Block letters. Absolutely no doodling of dragons on the margins.”

Theo raised an eyebrow. “That’s oddly specific.”

“Page six. Section twelve. It’s a thing now.”

He began filling out the endless forms, checking boxes blindly. Magical Affinity? None. Familiar animal? None. Apocalyptic prophecy involvement? No, probably not. Hero Classification? What even was that—he checked “Unranked” just to move on.

But then he saw it:

[ ] I hereby volunteer for Emergency-Class Hero Service (ECHS) under Bureau Code 42-Z.

The box was not checked.

But the page was stuck to another with coffee. He peeled it off… and the pen made a satisfying click in his hand…

And he checked it. By accident.

Or fate. Or caffeine-induced apathy.

He didn’t even realize until he reached the end.

Linda yanked the form from him without looking. “Stand on the red square.”

Theo blinked. “Red square? What red squ—”

A hidden platform hissed under his feet. There was a loud magical whumph, a puff of glitter, and then—

Darkness.

Theo woke up on the floor of a much fancier office. A glowing chandelier hung overhead, made entirely of paperwork and glowing jellyfish.

A sharp British voice announced:

“Congratulations! You’ve just joined the Department of Unintentional Heroics. Please remain still while your legally binding Heroic Contract is branded into your soul.”

Theo screamed.

A small magical sizzle tickled the back of his neck. It smelled like burnt waffles and bad decisions.

Then a door burst open.

A woman in a sharp blazer, wild hair, and coffee-stained pants stormed in. She had the energy of a motivational speaker at war with sleep deprivation.

“You! Crumble, is it? Theo Crumble?”

“Uh. Yeah. I think?”

“I’m Director Karen. And you just made the worst best decision of your entire life.” She slapped a folder onto a nearby desk. “Welcome to the D.U.H.”

“The what?”

“Department of Unintentional Heroics. We fix magical disasters caused by idiots.”

“I—what? No. I came here for an ID renewal.”

“Congratulations. You now legally qualify as an Emergency-Class Hero.”

“I sell tacos on weekends!”

“And now you also battle eldritch demons on government orders. Hope you can multitask.”

A nearby drawer flew open. A briefcase soared through the air and smacked Theo in the chest.

“Oof!”

It wiggled, clicked open, and spoke.

“I’m Brie,” it said in a smooth, smug tone. “Your regulation issue Magical Intelligence Companion, Carry-Class. Don’t get crumbs in me.”

Theo stared at it, then at Karen. “Is this a prank show? Is this—are there cameras? Please tell me this is a prank show.”

Karen handed him a badge with his terrible photo already on it. The words CERTIFIED HERO were printed in bold.

“No prank. No refunds. You’re ours now. Don’t die.”

47 Minutes Later

Theo was in a flying van shaped like a printer, on his way to his first mission: investigating a rogue waffle cult that may or may not be summoning a syrup elemental in suburban Grumbleton.

Brie hovered beside him, scanning through magical files.

“Waffle cults are the worst,” Brie said. “So sticky.”

Theo groaned. “I didn’t sign up for this.”

“You literally did. Page seven, box twenty-three.”

“I thought that was a mailing list!”

Suddenly, a goblin in a tie popped up from the back seat.

“Hi, I’m Steve! I’m your intern. This is my first field assignment, and I’ve packed snacks, forms, and backup socks. I’m ready to believe in you!”

Theo’s soul quietly left his body.

End of Chapter 1