The return journey to the Department of Structure and Form was shorter in distance but vastly longer in atmospheric density. The sterile white halls of The Architect's domain seemed to amplify the impossible nature of the object clenched in Ne Job's fist: the Architectural Lattice Fragment.
The Architect was still engrossed in his projection of Novus Aethel, its impossible geometry glowing with cold certainty. He didn't even acknowledge their presence. The only indication he knew they were back was the faint, mechanical sigh that emanated from his desk—a sound Ne Job recognized as The Architect manually overriding his desire to activate the security lockdown.
"Archivist Job. Muse," The Architect stated, not looking away from the city. "Your unauthorized excursion into a high-security zone has been logged. I trust your assessment of structural decay in the Alpha-3 Nexus has been confirmed as negligible. Proceed to log your bureaucratic errors and exit my Department."
Ne Job laid the obsidian fragment directly onto the transparent surface of The Architect's desk. The polished black stone and its internal shard of impossible glass made a dull, heavy sound that seemed to violate the crystalline silence of the room.
"We found this at the rupture point," Ne Job said simply. "It was ejected from the temporal tear just as the Temporal Enforcement Officer sealed the passage into The Silent Space. We believe this is a structural key—a piece of the stolen life's architecture."
The Architect's smooth, measured attention was forced away from his city projection. He looked down at the fragment, and for the first time, Ne Job saw a flicker of pure, unadulterated intellectual horror cross his face. It was gone instantly, replaced by fierce denial.
"Nonsense. This is a forgery," The Architect insisted, though his hand, gloved in pristine white fiber, did not immediately touch the object. "It is an amalgamation of common obsidian, which originates from the Department of Primal Chaos, and glass, which is a trivial byproduct. It has no structural resonance."
"It has the resonance of your structure, Architect," The Muse countered, leaning over the desk with theatrical intensity, her creative energies beginning to radiate, forcing a small, distracting rainbow to refract across the white columns. "Look closely at the etchings beneath the shattered glass. That is not random decoration. It is a Fractal Load-Bearing Signature from the future configuration of Novus Aethel's central core. Only you and your three most trusted auditors would possess that master blueprint."
The Architect remained rigid. "I have not issued any such blueprint for future application. My design is immutable."
"Then explain the date: 2077.01.19," Ne Job pressed. "And the initials: A.B. The date is a planned moment of inception in the Human Trajectory database—the precise moment Ao Bing's consciousness was scheduled to anchor in Novus Aethel. This piece of architecture was supposed to exist at that moment, but someone shattered it preemptively."
The implication was clear: the conspiracy was using the very fabric of The Architect's perfect future city to execute the temporal assassination.
Faced with a structural paradox he could not dismiss, The Architect finally conceded. He extended a finger and activated a fine, blue laser scanner embedded in his desk. The scanner passed over the fragment, and a deep, low groan of distress issued from the structure of the Department itself, as if recognizing its own betrayal.
A stream of complex data flooded The Architect's projection screen. He scrolled through it rapidly, his breathing becoming shallow and irregular—a true sign of existential panic for a being dedicated to order.
"It is... impossible," The Architect whispered, the word breaking the measured precision of his voice. "The fragment is real. The material is indeed a Quantum-Crystallized Lattice meant for installation at Core-Layer 7 of Novus Aethel, scheduled for structural commencement on the exact date listed." He looked at Ne Job, his eyes finally showing genuine alarm. "The shatter pattern... it is not random breakage. It is a deliberate, localized structural failure engineered to create a Temporal Echo Chamber."
"An Echo Chamber?" Ne Job asked.
"Yes. It means that whoever stole Ao Bing didn't just hide the life; they used the structural collapse of this piece of future architecture to create a resonant echo in the past," The Architect explained, pointing to the data. "The Enforcer used the Deity-Forged Cipher not to power the jump, but to tune the frequency. They drained the Nexus energy to establish a stable conduit between The Silent Space and a precise location within the city—a location that this fragment, when properly aligned, reveals."
He manipulated the data projection, superimposing the complex fracture pattern of the obsidian key onto the shimmering blueprint of Novus Aethel. The lines aligned perfectly, pointing to a specific, non-descript section deep beneath the surface of the city's central square.
"Sub-Level 12, Maintenance Section Epsilon," The Architect read, his voice tight with controlled fury. "It's a forgotten conduit. Administratively, it's categorized as a redundant thermal coil relay. I designed it to be obsolete immediately upon City activation."
"A perfect hiding spot," Ne Job noted. "Unmonitored, structurally redundant, and situated precisely where a future structural component was planned. Whoever did this knows your blueprints intimately, Architect."
The Muse tapped her finger lightly on the screen, her eyes dancing with suspicion. "The Enforcer's uniform was Enforcement, but their knowledge is Structure and Form. Only someone with high-level access to the full structural history of Novus Aethel could have performed this precise, surgical crime. A rogue Temporal Officer, yes, but one with the mind of an auditor."
"This Enforcer is not merely rogue," Ne Job agreed, his analytical mind assembling the terrifying profile. "They are highly placed. They had access to a Deity-Forged Cipher—likely stolen or loaned from a very high authority. And they chose to preemptively erase a future human trajectory named Ao Bing by compromising the structural integrity of Novus Aethel itself. The objective is not chaos, but control."
The Architect, regaining his composure, stared at the precise location now highlighted on the city's blueprint. "If a stable conduit was successfully established at Maintenance Section Epsilon, then it must be shut down immediately. The Paradox could unravel the stability of the city."
"We need to go down there," Ne Job declared. "This Enforcer left the fragment as a clue—perhaps intentionally, or perhaps in their haste to seal the tear. Either way, they have established a temporary link to the stolen life, and we must investigate what they were trying to prevent by erasing Ao Bing."
"Absolutely not," The Architect said, drawing himself up to his full, imposing height. "My Department will dispatch an Automated Integrity Unit. You, Archivist, will return to C-7 and file a preliminary report."
"Your Automated Integrity Unit will be too slow, and will likely be intercepted by the Enforcer, who clearly anticipates structural interference," Ne Job countered, pulling out his Head Archivist Mandate. "I am invoking BCA Regulation 11.4, Sub-clause C: Emergency Intervention in the Event of a Systemic Paradox. The existence of a sealed, stolen life form in The Silent Space, coupled with the unauthorized use of a Cipher, places this situation under the highest level of paradox classification. We must be the first physical presence at the conduit site."
The Architect's facial twitch returned, harder this time. Ne Job had used the language of absolute bureaucratic authority, the only language The Architect respected.
"Very well," The Architect ground out, defeated by his own regulations. "But you will require transport. The deeper maintenance levels of Novus Aethel are accessible only via the Structural Sub-Dimensional Lift—my domain. You will take Assistant Yue with you."
The Muse and Ne Job exchanged a look of surprise. Assistant Yue was The Architect's primary assistant—a creature of pure efficiency, famous throughout the BCA for being even more rigidly adherent to procedure than The Architect himself. She was practically a subroutine.
"Assistant Yue?" Ne Job questioned.
"Yes. She is the only entity with the security clearance and the algorithmic rigidity required to navigate the non-euclidean pathways of Sub-Level 12," The Architect declared, already summoning her. "And she will ensure that you, Archivist, adhere to the established parameters of Structural Intervention: minimal deviation, zero collateral damage, and absolute return of all misplaced property. Do not compromise the integrity of my city, or I will file a formal complaint that will revoke your archival clearance for three millennia."
A moment later, Assistant Yue arrived. She was smaller and faster than The Architect, dressed in an unnervingly crisp gray tunic. Her large, intelligent eyes observed Ne Job and The Muse with the calculating indifference of an advanced quantum computer.
"Assistant Yue," The Architect instructed, his voice now back to its measured baritone. "You will accompany Archivist Job and the Muse to Sub-Level 12. Your mission is to assist in locating the energy conduit and ensure its complete, non-damaging closure. Any deviation from the optimal path will result in a negative integrity rating."
"Confirmed. Optimal path calculation 99.9999% complete," Assistant Yue replied, her voice synthesized and flawless. She didn't acknowledge The Muse or Ne Job as individuals, only as variables in the calculation. "Ready for departure."
The Structural Sub-Dimensional Lift was a terrifying ride—not a cage moving up and down, but a space that compressed and expanded around them, traveling through the very logic of Novus Aethel's design. As they descended, Ne Job clutched the Lattice Fragment, now glowing faintly in the deep gloom of the lift.
"Well, Job," The Muse whispered, adjusting her shimmering gown which looked woefully out of place in the industrial transport. "It seems we now have a hyper-efficient babysitter, a stolen future-life named Ao Bing, and a direct path to the crime scene. What's the first thing you file when you get to Sub-Level 12?"
Ne Job looked at Assistant Yue, who was staring fixedly at the wall, and then at the fragment. "I file the necessity of immediate, creative deviation, Muse. And Assistant Yue is about to find out that perfect efficiency rarely accounts for a cosmic heist."