Conference Room Galaxy was exactly what Jack expected: a glass-walled meeting room with a massive table, ergonomic chairs, and a 85-inch TV displaying a PowerPoint presentation titled "Sol System Project: Performance Review & Future Opportunities."
Five entities sat around the table, each one radiating the unmistakable energy of middle management trying to look important. They looked like cosmic beings that had been put through a corporate training program—ancient, powerful, but somehow diminished by business casual attire and the need to justify their quarterly metrics.
The one at the head of the table stood up as Jack entered. It looked like a constellation that had been compressed into a humanoid shape and forced to wear a polo shirt.
"Jack! Great to finally meet you in person. I'm Brad, Universe Design Team Lead for the Milky Way Division. These are my colleagues—Sarah from Species Management, Tim from Planetary Resources, Jessica from Existential Crisis Implementation, and Dave from... uh..." Brad checked his notes. "Dave handles Quality Assurance."
Each entity gave a little wave that somehow managed to convey both cosmic power and corporate awkwardness.
Jack's nanomachine count spiked to 16.1 trillion as his consciousness processed the sheer absurdity of the situation. "Let me get this straight. You're telling me the entities that created the universe... work in middle management?"
"Well, not created," Sarah said, adjusting what appeared to be cosmic reading glasses. "We're more like... project managers. The actual creation was handled by the Senior Partners, but they've moved on to bigger things. We handle day-to-day operations for this galaxy cluster."
The GalacticTok chat was in absolute chaos:
PROJECT MANAGERS RUN THE UNIVERSE
THE COSMIC HORROR IS CORPORATE STRUCTURE
THEY REALLY SAID "SENIOR PARTNERS"
THIS EXPLAINS EVERYTHING WRONG WITH REALITY
Tim from Planetary Resources pulled up a slide on the big screen. It showed Earth with various metrics and KPIs listed beside it: "Species Diversity: 127% above target," "Suffering Quotient: Meeting expectations," "Extinction Events: 23% below quarterly goals."
"So, Jack," Tim said, his voice carrying the practiced enthusiasm of someone who'd given this presentation too many times, "let's talk about your performance metrics for the Sol System project."
Jack's humanity index, which had been sitting at essentially zero for chapters, somehow managed to go negative. "My... performance metrics?"
Jessica from Existential Crisis Implementation leaned forward. "The good news is, your work on the human psychological trauma index has been outstanding. Really top-tier despair generation. But we're concerned about some of your recent choices that seem to be... how do we put this... reducing overall suffering output."
"You mean saving people?" Jack asked, his voice carrying frequencies that made the conference room windows vibrate.
"Well, 'saving' is such a loaded term," Brad said, clicking to the next slide, which showed a graph titled "Suffering Metrics: Q3 Performance vs. Targets." "We prefer to think of it as 'inefficient resource allocation.' Every person you save is someone who's not contributing to our existential dread quotas."
Dave from Quality Assurance finally spoke up. "Also, the whole 'liberating alien fleets' thing? That's completely off-brand for us. Our focus groups show that audiences prefer more traditional apocalypse narratives."
Jack stood up slowly, his nanomachines beginning to resonate with frequencies that existed outside normal spacetime. The livestream audience was watching history unfold as the most powerful entity in the known universe discovered that his entire existence had been... a corporate project.
"Let me understand this," Jack said, his voice now carrying harmonics that made reality itself uncomfortable. "Humanity's suffering, the alien invasion, my family's death—all of that was just... what, quarterly targets?"
"Not just quarterly," Sarah said helpfully. "We work on annual cycles. Your family's death was actually planned eighteen months in advance. Really excellent ROI on that emotional trauma investment."
The silence that followed was the kind that existed just before reality decided it had had enough.