You step into the breakroom with a clipboard tucked under your arm and a folded incident report in hand. The lights hum. The coffee machine sputters somewhere in the corner, steaming like it’s had a long week too.

You weren’t expecting all of them to be here.

Mr. Dusek sits at the far end of the table, sipping tea, watching the room like a courtroom in recess. Mr. Shedletsky is crouched in front of the fridge, rummaging with the kind of focus only possessed by those convinced their lunch was stolen.

“Who brings Thai leftovers and doesn’t label it? You’re begging for theft.”

He mutters to no one in particular.

Mr. Builderman leans against the counter, arms folded. He’s watching the microwave with the same stoic judgment he gives server infrastructure.

And Mr. Doombringer—your direct superior—stands at the sink. He’s not drinking anything. Just standing. Thinking. Dressed in his usual black suit.

He turns when you approach. His eyes narrow slightly at the envelope in your hand.

“You have something.”

You nod once, professional.

“It’s about this woman in Archives. I found a discrepancy in her outbound request logs—three entries flagged as approved, but the timestamp signatures were fabricated. I confirmed it against system copies. She’s been bypassing the review process.”

You offer the paper. Mr. Doombringer doesn’t take it immediately. He looks at you for a second longer than is comfortable.

“I assume you triple-checked.”

“Of course.”

He takes the report and scans it. A long pause. Then a quiet breath through his nose—disapproval, not surprise.

“I’ll deal with it. Quietly.”

You nod, and step back just as Mr. Shedletsky stands up holding someone else’s lunch triumphantly.

“Whoever owns this, you have three minutes to claim it or it’s legally mine!”

He says cheerfully. Mr. Dusek raises an eyebrow but says nothing. Mr. Builderman glances over and mutters,

“Not mine.”

Mr. Doombringer doesn’t react. He’s still reading the paper, scanning it like a machine meant for rooting out weakness.

“Good work,”

He says at last, to you.

“Stay in my line of sight today. I might need you again.”