Hmm... I'm not sure if giving away the scroll was the best choice? Hmm... The folded piece of paper didn't provide any specifics, did it? Or am I just overthinking things?

Should I help out or skip work? I hate working, so it's wiser to opt for something satisfying.

Are my words that hard to make sense of? How about looking at it this way? Whether to make an ice cream or to savor one. I would definitely just relish the treat.

What? You would rather create your own and then enjoy it?

Well then, be sure you make a delicious batch that truly makes the effort worthwhile.

…As I wandered through the hall, thinking about my options, I spotted Clark, buzzing around all excited.

Well, why don't I just ask him for his take on things? Can kill time, skip work and get paid. The ultimate form of goldbricker.

As I curled my existence towards the man in the opulent white EMU, I took a snail's pace before extending my greetings, savoring the gentle melody of Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 14 in C sharp minor, Op. 27 No. 2 filling the surroundings.

"So, what is your take on things, Sen?" the psychic questioned, his voice filled with amusement.

Firstly, did you just hear me use those words, or am I that predictable? Secondly, it looks like a paid holiday for the next few minutes.

"Phahehe... Hard to say, as things stand. But let me ask you something, again: what do you believe is truly going on?" he asked, the gold-coated glass of his helmet reflecting me, and with probably a grin on him that I can't see.

If I factor...

It wasn't something as trivial as a pulsar.

Nothing surpasses the speed of light.

You did not alert anyone about any anomalies.

If I have to conclude it along the lines of unpredictability, then...

Schrödinger's cat?

"Barely debatable, and I hate cats being used like that. However, if we use that as an example, we're basically experiencing one of those events in this box. An event where no one knows if the result is a demise or a nascence until the box is opened," the man declared, holding a slightly opened box.

His explanation could point to something uncertain, but the wall that had collapsed right after his remark seemed to make me understand what he meant.

Throughout the decades of my weary life, have I never witnessed a scenery like this.

The vast cosmos, which had always played a dark and lifeless refrain, began to burn brighter than ever, as if it was acknowledging our presence. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the entire symphony of stars was warming us with its radiance.

A warmth sufficient to soothe this cold life.

Even if it's not possible to see the emotions hidden behind the reflective frame, even if it's not possible to see the emotions of a being of unknown constitution, it is certainly possible to understand the fascination they felt.

......So, are you telling me that something so beautiful is here to destroy us?

"Or perhaps something so beautiful is here to discover…"

That could also be... So, is this how your kind met its end? With the collision of the Milky Way and Andromeda? Or something else?

"Nah, they killed themselves."

Just like every other race out there, ehh... Wait! It totally slipped my mind, but are you sure it's okay with being out in the open like this?!

With a casual double pat on his grandiose suit, he responded indifferently.

We gradually returned inside, shifting our gazes away from the bright panorama that had been burned into our memories.

"Want to throw any guesses about what the cat is doing in the box?" he questioned, trying to continue the talk about the strange situation.

Only if it was an asteroid could we have focused on finding Bruce and be done with it.

"Phahahahaha! Well, that's not it– Phaha, so... it wasn't a flash of light or a rush of waves—which we could have obviously noticed first hand—but... the whole box, the whole existence was shaken to its very last string. The cat is doing nothing! He is also wondering what the hell is happening to the box!"

That sounds a bit ominous and–

"Hat'dam'! Tha' very zcary!"

Kyaah! *Adjusting the voice* How long have you been standing there?! More like, seriously, where did you even pop up from?!

"Hehe... I waz hidin' and checkin' out if buddy could catch me doin' tha' thing, you know, the one you been doin' toda'," said a being that can't be reasoned with, holding an antique vinyl record.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Woah... Careful with that. Why is that in–

"Oh! I waz bored of hidin' and tried to get attention, like movin' the box, ztealin' this unusual origami, breakin' the wall, and az nothin' worked, I wanted to play different music!" he replied joyfully as he put the vinyl on the gramophone.

Don't damage company property just for your own amusement, and you really are quite contradictory, but at least better than some politicians I know.

What is he doing? Where's the music? How hard is it to put a needle on a record?

"Push them!"

"We all are risking our lives here!"

"Scared because you are new to the job, you pathetic avatars?!"

The shouts from the members of Conc. Management caught my attention. As I gazed down, I saw a group of avatars, each with unique shapes and sizes, being thrust into a furnace ablaze with green and gold flames.

Despite how it looks, they're merely being sent into the Macrocosm.

About time the new blood stepped away from the dictionary and learned the meaning of capitalism through sweat and blood. Push them, pu~sh them.

Heh. It would have been a magnificent sight if the scroll with Amber had asked for more avatars.

Gazing down from such a lofty vantage point... It would have been delightful to enjoy a glass of wine accompanied by a beautiful melody. And as if the very air around me was listening to my thoughts, a melody soared forth from the vinyl.

When I heard the enchanting melodies filling the air, it became clear to me that someone had succeeded in getting the record started.

The shimmering glass fragments on the arched ceiling had no connection to the music, yet the soft crackling of vintage glass harmonized with the music, slowly casting its dim glow into every corner of the hall.

Isn't that Mozart's Symphony no. 25 in G Minor, K. 183? Such a masterpiece.

And yet… and yet…

What is it?

What is it that I am feeling?

Why does this simple melody seem so foreboding?

"With such a beautiful melody being played, it makes me feel like I should not be worried about the safety of you all," a voice echoed from above.

No, that's not the one. That's the voice of Sir Parch Ment, the only manly man who is tackling the turmoil head-on in Macrocosm while we remain sheltered here.

Why do I keep hearing the same part? Is the record broken?

Should I have held onto the scroll till the end, is that it?

But it seems alright... I'm fulfilling my duties as instructed–

Wait! Folded paper! Di-Di-Didn't that manic say something about an unusual origami?

My cluster of polygons began to twitch like never before. Some changed color, some rotated oddly, and some crumbled and fell off. It was obvious that I was getting stressed.

Disregarding all the murmurs or thoughts, Sir Parch Ment pressed on, "I'll cut to the chase. Don't run any scrolls through... Yes, neither I nor did any of my ancestors anticipated this day would arrive. So, stop running any scrolls. I repeat..."

My worries deepened when I realized that the crucial piece of paper was missing—and, to make matters worse, the new scroll rule was now firmly in effect.

No scrolls?! Why are all these never-before-happened events happening at once? Amber! I need to–! Wait, calm down! Even if she can't understand English completely, Natalia is with her. I should rather focus on the paper that contains the secrets that forced me into this unpaid job.

"Hat'dam'!"

Just as I was about to swiftly steal the paper that rightfully belonged to me, I was met with the last person I ever wanted to see holding it with his eyes wide open.

"Wha'z thiz? It'z a white paper..."

Wondering about the comment, I stopped in my tracks. However, getting closer made me realize that he was looking at the reverse side of the note.

Warning Mammutidae to never try any funny business again, I snatched the piece of paper from his hand.

Everything's fine now–

"Hat'dam'!" he exclaimed, looking at another similar piece of paper.

Why do you have another piece of paper, dammit?!

"I made a copy, juz in caze"

What kind of idiot are you to mess up reading the first time?! Also, don't just casually pry into others' private lives!

"But what am I even readin'! Oh, ohhh! Ooooo!"—No! Don't!—"Wha'z thi' language?"

I stumbled forward as if someone had yanked my foot(?), recalling that he only speaks English.

I picked up that piece as well and was on my way to Amber, but I stopped when I noticed a face beaming at me, despite the fact that something he had worked so hard for had been taken away from him.

You... Are you hiding something from me?

The tusked being remained silent, swaying ghastly, his hands clasped behind him.

If you guessed he was hiding just another piece of paper, you couldn't be more wrong. Not one, not ten, but the waistband, the pockets, the sleeves, the socks, and—just then, the culprit sneezed, sending all the evidence flying into the air—in his nose too(?!).

W-Wh-What is all this…?

In response to my shaky inquiry, he exclaimed, "Oh! I wanted otherz help decipher it'!" with a hint of enthusiasm.

There was no reason for second thought. With a blow to a rack near me shattered an 11.5 liter carboy of HCN (Hydrogen Cyanide), which spilled onto the madman.

A chemical not so often used in chemical warfare, but commonly used in pesticides. The conditions around him were enough to dissolve every piece of paper—including the ones that I threw in the mix—but not enough to kill this gigantic rodent.

"Ooo... What's with this heat?" a lovely voice asked us.