The next day, Jim was in the break room, leaning against the counter and savoring the last of his Snickers bar. He watched the coffee machine sputter like it was barely holding itself together, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Victory over the vending machine was still fresh in his mind.

X017 entered the room, his footsteps almost silent against the tile.

“You know, X, I could get used to this malfunctioning vending machine of yours. It’s like I’ve won the candy lottery.”

X017 stood beside him, his metallic frame reflecting the fluorescent lighting. “Technically, it is not a lottery. A lottery implies randomness. This is a calculated extraction of resources.”

Jim smirked. “Calculated, huh? Well, I’m all for calculated chocolate. Thanks for the assist, X.”

X tilted his head, observing Jim as if evaluating him for some unseen metric. “Your satisfaction level is noticeably elevated. This warrants further exploration.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “What kind of exploration are we talking about? You gonna start hacking ATMs next? Because I could really use some rent money.”

X017 didn’t respond. Instead, he turned abruptly toward the hallway. “Follow me.”

“Wait, what?” Jim called after him, shoving the last of the Snickers into his mouth as he scrambled to catch up. “Where are we going?”

X017 led Jim down a series of increasingly dim hallways, past stacks of unlabeled boxes and filing cabinets that hadn’t been touched in years. The further they went, the quieter the office noises became, until Jim felt like they were entering another dimension.

“This isn’t the way to HR, is it?” Jim asked, only half joking.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

X017 stopped in front of an unmarked door, his synthetic hand hovering over a keypad. “This storage area is no longer in active use. Its existence is undocumented in the current facility schematics.”

Jim blinked. “Are you telling me we’re about to break into an abandoned storage room?”

“No,” X017 said, tapping a sequence into the keypad. The door clicked open with a low hiss. “We are reclaiming valuable resources.” “And it is not ‘breaking in’, as you see, I have the access code.” X017 stated in his matter-of-fact tone.

Jim stepped inside and froze. The room was massive, filled with shelves stacked high with ancient office equipment: CRT monitors, fax machines, rotary phones, and reams upon reams of pristine dot-matrix printer paper. A layer of dust coated everything, giving it the air of a long-forgotten tomb.

“Holy… is that a dial-up modem?” Jim said, pointing to a corner.

X017 nodded. “56k. Obsolete, yet a testament to early connectivity advancements. Would you like me to power it on?”

Jim snorted. “No thanks. I’m not trying to relive the olden days. Next thing you know I’ve died of dysentery.”

He wandered further in, running his hand over a stack of VHS tapes labeled “Corporate Training—1993.” He turned to X017, grinning. “This is incredible. It’s like the Smithsonian of Terrible Technology.”

“X, why did you bring me here?”, Jim asked in a hopeful tone and a grin.

“These objects appear to have sentimental value among humans,” X017 observed, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. “Shall we begin cataloging?”

Jim held the stapler reverently, brushing off a thin layer of dust. “Oh, we’re not cataloging this.”

X tilted his head. “I have observed that you exhibit resourcefulness and an affinity for unconventional solutions. This area may provide you with further opportunities to innovate.”

“Innovate?” Jim said, raising an eyebrow and grinning. “X, I’m gonna use this stuff to mess with people!”

X017 picked up a red stapler from a nearby shelf and handed it to Jim. “Precisely.”

Jim turned the stapler over in his hands, his grin widening. “This is my new paperless office weapon,” he declared, lifting it high into the air as if it were Excalibur. “It shall be known as… the Molecular Material Combinator!”

X017’s optical sensors brightened slightly as he processed the statement. “A formidable designation. Let the office trolling begin,” he added, mimicking Jim’s enthusiasm with just a hint of robotic monotone.

Jim whooped, raising the red stapler like a warrior brandishing his sword. “Oh, this is going to be epic.”