The Labyrinth of Lost Bureaucracy

In the sprawling, esoteric corridors of the Department of Misdirection and Dissatisfaction, countless pages of untold fate compile upon each desk. One must first submit Form Z-42, only to be understood later by the Committee of Temporal Confusion, which works precisely at 3:30 PM, but never on Tuesdays. Between these walls, whispers of forgotten progression flutter like moths drawn to a flame of red ink. You find a memo dated 2048. It’s outdated, and yet, perhaps, prophetic.