Cross Departmental Issue.

Artifacts. Magic. Disasters. Heroes. Villains. Legends. This world has known it all.

As surprising and unbelievable as it may sound, in the modern days of fax machines and cassette tapes humans learned to adapt to the Mysticism of everyday. A mystery dungeon appeared out of nowhere? Leave it to the local exploration team. A swarm of flying mechanical birds are harassing your neighborhood? That’s an issue for the safety department.

In the tremendous machine called ‘Civilization’, every man and woman contributes to the survival of humanity amidst a world so hostile to them. And so, for as long as ‘Civilization’ stood, they survived. Contrary to the belief of all those ancient species from old times, humanity alone survived. How great. How wonderful. Glory to human ingenuity and the wonders of bureaucracy.

That was absolutely not what Saburō was thinking.

“Someone, please, end my suffering…”

The white collar worker whispered in between the shuffle of papers.
He stamped each report one after another, only giving them a surface look. Slightly shifting his hand as he made his decision in an instant.

Containment. Destruction. Release. Release. Destruction. Storage. Release. Containment. Release.

For every document, he saw the image of an artifact and its described capabilities. And his soul crushing work is, as a senior manager, to decide what goes where and to which department’s responsibility.
Such is his life at the Artifact Management Department, in the city where artifacts are as common as air.

“Sir, look at this.”

“Not now Penny.” he dismissed his protege. “I’m not interested in the latest movie trends, let this poor man suffer in silence.”

“No Sir, I’m talking about this document.”

“Oh I’m not doing your work.” he kept the conversation going, still stamping his papers. “I already taught you which to shred and which to add to my endless pile.”

“It’s not about that, just please come take a look.”

“What now?”

A little curious, and fatally bored by his work, the manager sacrificed a few seconds of his next pause. He went to the other side of the office room and gave a quick glimpse. Penny held an artifact report. Not to manage, but to archive. “Where did you get that? Looks quite confidential.”

“It was produced by an artifact I stumbled upon on the way, it was flying printer.”

“What of it? Did you bring it to the assessment department?”

“Self-destroyed the moment it printed that report, all in one go and with bindings included—how convenient!”

“Then why did you keep it? You should have brought the issue to the higher-ups. Can’t you see the CONFIDENTIAL in bold, red font?”

“Exactly what I’m doing isn’t it?”

“Anyone other than me, I would shred it without a thought. Looks like too much trouble.”

“I knew you would say that.” she let a chuckle escape, her sly smile nagging the senior manager. “Then you wouldn’t mind us reading it would you?”

“To get my memories stolen and transmitted by some other random artifact to the boss? No thanks.”

“Too late.”

“Hey!”

The overly curious junior opened the first page.
There was nothing. Just a blank, and unnecessarily thick document. Yet, in that white blank, slowly, their eyes got used to the words written in nothingness. Words that no one but them could read.

‘Come. Come to the Graveyard of Remembrance. And I’ll commemorate your memories, Savior who has yet to become one.’

The nonexistent words faded, and then, truly nothing was left.
A blink of an eye later, ink returned to the white sheets of paper, becoming a report about a random artifact that spawned black crows from wooden shrines.
Penny, shaken by what she read, not even registering how she could read a blank document, was trembling and sweating. “What, what happened Sir?” She said her hands twitching. “I’ve never experienced something like this.”

“Neither did I… Ah well, that was amusing.”

Utterly unfazed, Saburō simply returned to his seat and stamped the next pile of documents. “I’m glad you ignored my order, but I’ll still cut your weekly bonus.”

“Sir, are we not going to talk about that?”

“You’ll get used to it. Now shred that document before someone catches you with it.”

“You mean us, right?”

“I’m not losing my job because of you, get to it.”

“Aye aye Si–”

Suddenly, a phone call.
It rings on the manager’s table, three pitches higher than usual.

“A too well timed high priority call. It better not be about that document.”

Quickly taking the call, a stern, yet silent voice spoke.

“This is Head Officer Everett of the Artifact Containment Department. Am I talking to Manager Saburō Mitsugami?”

“That’s right.” he nodded, phone at his ear. “To what do I owe the honor Head Officer Sir?”

“Would you come immediately to the containment headquarters? Something has come up and looks like you’re closely tied to it.”

“To the containment building?”

His eyes widened at the interlocutor’s order. The monotone machine that only exists to stamp all day was now sent out on an errand? He felt disturbed by how unusual his day was turning out to be. Was it something to be glad about? To be separated from the piles of documents. His first instinct was a massive NO.

“Of course I’ll come, may I know what this is about?”

“We don’t have much time, but do you remember about a certain artifact you yourself had sent to the storage department?”

“I surely would. As a manager, I am always under the effect of an artifact that makes me remember every document I stamp.” he said in a sorrowful tone, almost sighing at his hierarchic superior. “Which one are we talking about?”

“The artifact #46573.”

“Three-fold sticky note.” Saburō immediately answered. “A sticky note that lost its stickiness. When opened, it reminds the reader of something they forgot in the last 72 hours, with a cooldown of 72 hours as well. When opened within that lapse of time, there would be nothing inside. I sent it to the Artifact Storage Department due to its beneficial characteristics. It’s now pending approval by the development department and the Head Department of Mystical Affairs for a potential mass reproduction.”

“A right decision.” the head officer praised on the phone. “However, looks like those plans will have to be put on hold. And you, Mister Mitsugami, are more involved than being the one that handled it.”

“Really? In what way?”

“Again we don’t have time. But in a few words: The sticky note has now your name written on it.”