The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 8 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 8: The Verdict and The Grand Escape

The Grand Hall of Bureaucratic Justice had never been more silent, the air thick with tension. The multiversal judges, their faceless eyes now entirely fixed on Percy, Zippy, and Chrono, stood frozen, poised to make a decision that could decide the fate of reality itself.

Percy shifted nervously on his feet, and it didn’t help that Zippy was still standing with an unsettling grin as though he were waiting for someone to throw him a party. Chrono, meanwhile, had taken refuge behind a stack of paperwork, trying to look invisible—an act that, frankly, seemed more appropriate for him than for anyone else in the room.

The Eraser, still floating smugly at the opposite end of the hall, had been absolutely silent ever since Zippy had dropped the loophole bomb. His once-ironic smile had vanished, replaced by a grim frown of cosmic disapproval.

The lead judge, now tapping his eternally unflappable clipboard, spoke in that echoing, dispassionate voice that could shake the very fabric of reality:

“The court has reached a decision.”

A shiver ran through Percy’s spine. He had no idea how this would go. He didn’t belong here—but then again, did anyone? Was the entire multiverse just an illusion of order, enforced by arbitrary powers? Was it truly possible to convince an entire bureaucratic machine that he, Percy Fogg, had a place among the stars?

The lead judge continued, “In light of the defense’s compelling argument—and an unprecedented filing error in the original paperwork—we find that the subject, Percy Fogg, shall remain classified as Anomalous Yet Acceptable.”

Percy blinked. “Wait, what?”

Zippy bounced on his heels. “Did we just win?”

The lead judge didn’t acknowledge the interruption. “However, given the peculiar circumstances surrounding Mr. Fogg’s existence, he shall be placed on probation.”

Percy’s face went white. “Probation?!”

“That’s right,” said the judge. “You shall be monitored for any further disturbances in the fabric of reality.”

Chrono’s gears clicked. “That’s… fair enough.”

Percy’s eyes widened. “Fair enough? I’m still being watched?”

Zippy snorted. “Mate, it’s either that or be erased from existence altogether. Take the win, yeah?”

Percy, still stunned, could only manage a bewildered nod.

The judges went on, unfazed. “You will also be required to attend periodic Reality Maintenance Sessions, and periodic updates on your existence will be submitted to the Multiversal Monitoring Authority.”

"Fine," Percy mumbled. “But I don’t have to get, like, a Reality Tattoo, do I?”

Zippy laughed loudly, his voice echoing throughout the hall. “Nah, mate! Just keep doing your thing. Being a librarian and all that. The paperwork will sort itself out.”

“Librarian?” The lead judge’s voice remained completely flat, as though he couldn’t quite process the concept. “Please understand, Mr. Fogg, your future remains subject to review.”

Percy nodded. “Okay. Whatever. As long as I don’t have to sit through another one of these bureaucratic hearings.”

The lead judge, suddenly showing the faintest glimmer of… something? A sense of amusement, maybe? shrugged his ethereal shoulders. “We will now file your case. Case dismissed.”

With that, a blinding flash of paperwork and cosmic force flooded the courtroom. Everything whirled, documents flying in every direction, until the hall seemed to collapse in on itself for the briefest moment of uncertainty.

And then—

Silence.

The Grand Hall was empty.

Except for Percy, Zippy, and Chrono, who had magically found themselves back in the Master Index Vault.

Percy blinked. “What just happened?”

Zippy grinned. “We won, mate.”

Chrono gave a little clap, though it seemed slightly forced. “That was… unexpectedly successful.”

“Wait a second,” Percy said, his face pale. “So, I’m… free? I’m not going to get erased? I still have a place in the multiverse?”

Zippy gave him a solid pat on the back. “That’s the magic of bureaucracy, mate. They can be a pain in the rear, but once you show them a loophole and remind them how much paperwork they’ll have to deal with, they’ll just let you go.”

Percy stared at the room around them. It was still the same ridiculously vast, imposing vault of indexed realities, but somehow, it felt more alive than before. Maybe it was because he was now part of the system, in some twisted, bureaucratic sense. Or maybe it was the sheer relief that he hadn’t been wiped from existence.

And then…

A voice echoed from nowhere.

“Congratulations, Percy Fogg. You have completed your probationary trial.”

Percy flinched. “Wait. Who is that?”

“You may now resume your regular existence. However, please be aware that your case is still under monitoring.”

Zippy shot Percy a thumbs up. “Look at that, mate! You’re officially a reality anomaly—but still here, nonetheless.”

Chrono let out a low whistle. “I have never been part of a case like this before. The multiverse has issues, but I’ll take the win.”

Percy ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, so we’re all good? I don’t have to—”

The vault doors suddenly swung open with a horrifying creak, and a new figure stepped inside.

It was a new bureaucratic official, her face stern and impassive.

“I’m here to remind you,” she said, holding a large stack of paperwork, “that this is your official Reality Status Update Form. Please fill out and submit within 30 galactic days. Otherwise, your case will be reevaluated.”

Percy stared at her.

And then, with a heavy sigh, he muttered:

“I can never get away from paperwork, can I?”

Zippy laughed. “Nope. Welcome to the multiverse, mate!”

And thus, with a mix of reluctant acceptance and a good deal of confusion, Percy Fogg’s bizarre and probationary existence continued.

But at least he still had the most important thing of all:

A place in the multiverse. For now.

End of Book One.

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 7 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 7: The Great Case of Fogg v. Reality

Percy Fogg stood before a vast, imposing assembly of bureaucratic entities, each sitting behind an equally vast wall of paperwork. The Grand Hall of Bureaucratic Justice was an endless, featureless expanse, filled with floating scrolls, filing cabinets, and the faint but distinct hum of incessant, soul-crushing productivity.

Percy’s stomach churned.

This was no ordinary trial. This was the Ultimate Multiversal Legal Hearing, and he was about to plead for his continued existence—against reality itself.

Zippy stood next to him, grinning like a man about to win a game of interdimensional dodgeball.

Chrono, on the other hand, had taken up a position behind Percy, sweating profusely. “I’ve never been this uncomfortably close to paperwork before,” he muttered, his gears clicking nervously. “This is beyond a minor violation of bureaucratic procedure. This is a cosmic disaster.”

Percy exhaled slowly, clutching the absurdly formal scroll Zippy had presented as his defense. It was filled with improbable legal jargon, much of which didn’t even make sense to Percy, but it had been signed by a fake multiversal judge, so that was something, right?

The panel of judges at the front of the room, all of them floating bureaucrats with no discernible features, began to speak in unison:

“CASE NUMBER: PERCY FOGG V. REALITY. THE COURT WILL NOW BEGIN.”

A resounding clang echoed through the hall as an ancient gavel—made of pure red tape—came down.

Percy blinked. “Okay, that’s a bit dramatic.”

Zippy elbowed him. “You might want to keep the snark to a minimum. This is serious business, mate.”

Chrono sighed. “The multiversal judicial system is terrifying, and that was the most terrifying part of it.”

The lead judge—a faceless figure wearing an absurdly large bow tie—tapped a stack of documents. “Percy Fogg. You have been charged with a reality violation of the highest order. Your existence has been retroactively altered and replaced in violation of Multiversal Law. You do not belong here.”

Percy felt the weight of those words. He opened his mouth, but Zippy was already speaking for him.

“Ah, but you see,” Zippy said with a flourish, “we are prepared to demonstrate that Percy Fogg has been, in fact, wrongfully removed from existence due to an oversight in the record-keeping system of the Department of Reality Management.”

The judges blinked in unison. One of them shuffled papers. “Oversight. Explain.”

Zippy grinned. “Of course! The situation is quite simple, really. It turns out, Percy Fogg was misfiled in the Index of Unnecessary Realities, where he was erroneously erased. He was wrongly deleted. Thus, his return to the multiverse—while admittedly unconventional—was merely the restoration of a logical error.”

The judges exchanged cryptic glances. One of them waved a scroll. “We shall review your evidence.”

Chrono stepped forward. “If I may, esteemed judges, I have already provided the revised entry for Mr. Fogg in the Master Index.” He handed over a scroll with official seals. “It’s all perfectly legitimate and absolutely necessary.”

The judges examined it.

Time slowed to an agonizing crawl for Percy. He could almost hear the creaking of the gears in the bureaucracy, like the entire universe was holding its breath, waiting for the final decision to fall.

Finally, the lead judge set the scroll down and turned his faceless gaze to Percy. “Explain yourself. Why should you be allowed to remain in the multiverse, when your very existence contradicts our records?”

Percy opened his mouth, but no words came out. What could he say?

Zippy stepped in again. “Easy! Percy Fogg is a librarian, mate. A dedicated librarian. He organized the chaos of time and space with his vast knowledge of cataloging, sorting, and keeping things in perfect order!”

Percy blinked. “I’m really not sure that’s… accurate.”

Zippy ignored him. “You see, dear judges, a librarian is exactly the kind of person who should be allowed to stay in the multiverse. After all, if everyone knew just where their books were, wouldn’t the universe make just a little bit more sense?”

Chrono raised an eyebrow. “I… would not recommend bringing up the idea of perfect organization in front of the judges, Zippy.”

Percy couldn’t help but fidget as the judges contemplated Zippy’s words. There was a long, pregnant silence, filled only with the shuffling of paperwork.

And then—

One of the judges snapped his fingers. “Very well. We will hear from the prosecution.”

Percy’s heart skipped a beat. “There’s a prosecution?”

A shimmering figure appeared at the other end of the courtroom. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a suit made of pure cosmic irony, and his smile was the kind that only the most disastrously smug people could wear.

“I am the Eraser,**” the figure said with a flourish. “And I am here to ensure that reality remains unbroken by anomalies like Mr. Fogg. After all, it’s only logical that someone who doesn’t belong should be removed from existence. No one should be allowed to simply walk around as though they can undermine the delicate balance of the multiverse!”

Percy could hear the unholy sound of cosmic paperwork being filed in triplicate.

Zippy snorted. “Oh, this guy again.”

Chrono rubbed his face. “The Eraser is… essentially the cosmic equivalent of a repressive middle manager. If he has his way, everything will be filed away in boring, orderly packets and no one will ever have any fun again.”

The Eraser’s smile widened. “In fact, Mr. Fogg is nothing more than a calamitous error waiting to happen. His existence is a flaw in the system that will continue to cause chaos throughout the multiverse.” He raised an eyebrow at Percy. “And… I have proof.”

At that, the Eraser flicked his hand, and the entire courtroom shifted into a chaotic, exploding mess of errors—alternate timelines, jumbled realities, and broken dimensions appeared and disappeared in flashes.

“See? Proof. Reality disintegrates in the presence of such anomalies.”

Percy’s knees wobbled. “Wait, that’s not—”

But Zippy jumped in front of him, brandishing a legal loophole the size of a small galaxy. “Aha! You see, my dear Eraser, you missed the key detail! Percy Fogg isn’t an anomaly—he’s the catalyst for reality to recognize its own imperfections. By reinstating his existence, we’re reminding the multiverse that even its own systems can break down.”

The Eraser’s confident smile faltered.

The judges leaned in.

Percy’s heart was pounding. Could this work? Could he actually argue his way out of total erasure?

The Grand Gavel came down with a resounding bang.

“The Court will deliberate.”

Percy stared at Zippy. “You… you think that’s enough?”

Zippy smiled, flashing him a toothy grin. “Mate, we’re this close to winning. Just wait for it.”

And with that, they waited for the final judgment to come down.

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 6 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 6: The Audit of Doom

Percy Fogg had been through some thoroughly unpleasant experiences in his life—like the time he accidentally double-booked a book club meeting with a toddler’s birthday party, or the time he found out, mid-presentation, that his PowerPoint slides had been replaced with photos of his cat in increasingly ridiculous hats.

But none of those compared to the horrible, existential weight of being personally audited by the Multiversal Bureaucracy.

The administrator who had just materialized in the Master Index Vault looked exactly like someone whose soul had been surgically replaced with policy guidelines and a severe disdain for improvisation.

Her gray suit was so aggressively neutral that it seemed to absorb all joy from the air. Her gold-rimmed glasses reflected pure disapproval. And her clipboard, held with unnerving precision, exuded the kind of bureaucratic menace that could reduce entire civilizations to a mess of red tape and despair.

She took a step forward, and Percy felt an instinctive need to apologize for something.

“Percy Fogg,” she said, her voice sharper than a rejected loan application. “You have been flagged for an unprecedented reality violation.”

Percy swallowed. “Uh… hello?”

She ignored the greeting. “As Chief Existence Auditor for the Department of Reality Management, I am initiating an Immediate and Thorough Inquiry.”

Zippy let out a low whistle. “Oof. They’re pulling out the capital letters. This is serious.”

Chrono groaned. “This is worse than serious. This is pure bureaucratic doom.”

Percy frowned. “Wait, but I’m in the Master Index now, right? Doesn’t that mean I do exist?”

The Auditor’s clipboard flipped open with terrifying efficiency. “Yes. And that is precisely the problem.”

Percy blinked. “I… what?”

She adjusted her glasses. “You were officially erased from existence. And yet, according to this newly updated record, you never stopped existing.” She narrowed her eyes. “That is a fundamental contradiction. And we in the Bureaucracy do not tolerate contradictions.”

Percy turned to Chrono. “You fixed my record, right?”

Chrono hesitated. “Well, I technically… adjusted it.”

Percy’s stomach sank. “What kind of adjustment?”

Chrono coughed. “I may have… slightly reworded your existence status.”

The Auditor raised an eyebrow. “Specifically, he listed you as ‘Anomalous Yet Acceptable.’”

Percy groaned. “And what does that mean?”

The Auditor’s expression darkened. “It means you are now classified as a Provisional Entity, subject to further review, indefinite observation, and potential retroactive correction.”

Percy did not like any of those words.

Zippy clapped him on the back. “Good news, mate! You’re officially too confusing to erase immediately!”

Percy sighed. “That doesn’t sound like good news.”

The Auditor’s pen hovered over her clipboard. “Percy Fogg, due to the… unusual nature of your case, I will allow you to justify your continued existence through a Formal Bureaucratic Hearing.”

Percy blinked. “Wait, I have to convince reality that I deserve to exist?”

Chrono winced. “Yeah, it’s exactly as bad as it sounds.”

Zippy grinned. “Or, worse!”

The Auditor gave Percy a hard stare. “You have one hour to prepare your case. Fail to provide sufficient justification, and you will be permanently reclassified as a Non-Entity.”

Percy gulped. “And that means…?”

Chrono sighed. “You’ll be unwritten from reality so thoroughly that even the concept of you will cease to exist.”

Percy ran a hand down his face. “Great. Perfect. Love that for me.”

The Auditor tapped her clipboard. “One hour. I suggest you use it wisely.”

Then, in a dramatic swirl of procedural inevitability, she vanished.

The vault doors sealed shut behind her.

Percy turned to Zippy and Chrono. “Okay. So. How do I convince the literal fabric of existence to let me stay?”

Chrono rubbed his tiny mechanical temples. “This is going to be the hardest case of my career.”

Zippy beamed. “Luckily, I’m fantastic at making up nonsense that sounds official.”

Percy sighed. “Wonderful. We’re all doomed.”

And thus began the most important legal defense in multiversal history.

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 5 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 5: Reality Correction and Other Rude Interruptions

Percy Fogg had always believed that libraries were safe places—quiet, orderly, full of knowledge and free of homicidal pursuit drones.

That belief had been violently dismantled ever since he checked out the wrong book.

Now, standing in the Master Index Vault of the Department of Reality Management, staring down a glowing-eyed bureaucratic enforcer drone, he had never felt more aggressively unwanted by the universe.

The drone’s voice was as cold and impersonal as an overdue notice from a vengeful library system.

“PERCY FOGG. YOUR EXISTENCE IS IN VIOLATION OF MULTIVERSAL RECORDS.”

Zippy Trelmor, Percy’s untrustworthy yet somehow extremely competent companion, nudged him. “You should really work on not violating fundamental reality, mate.”

Percy shot him a look. “Oh yes, let me just fix that real quick.”

Chrono, the perpetually unimpressed sentient pocket watch, was already scrambling through the Master Index files. “Stall it!” he barked. “I’m almost to the ‘F’s!”

Percy did not like the implication that his survival depended on alphabetization.

The drone pulsed ominously. “PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE REALITY CORRECTION.”

Percy took a step back. “I’d really rather not.”

“CORRECTION: NON-NEGOTIABLE.”

Zippy clapped Percy on the back. “Right, librarian, time for your first lesson in creative rule-breaking.”

Before Percy could protest, Zippy grabbed a random scroll from the Master Index shelf and unrolled it dramatically.

The drone hesitated.

“WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS TO MASTER INDEX.”

Zippy grinned. “Oho! What’s this? Looks like I’m holding the **official existence record of one… let’s see… oh, interesting! The entire species of Blenflorgian Law Toads.”

The drone beeped uncertainly. “THAT FILE IS CLASSIFIED.”

Zippy waggled the scroll. “And yet I have it right here. Now, unless you want an entire amphibian civilization to be legally erased from the multiverse, I suggest you stand down.”

The drone whirred. “THREAT DETECTED.”

Percy’s eyes widened. “Zippy, I don’t think this is—”

The drone fired a beam of pure existential correction.

Zippy dodged, throwing the scroll in the air. “AH, well, this just got fun, didn’t it?”

The scroll disintegrated on impact.

Somewhere, across the vastness of space and time, an entire planet of law-abiding toads suddenly had a very bad day.

Zippy winced. “Okay, whoops.”

Chrono groaned. “Zippy, you absolute menace.”

The drone recharged. “PREPARING FOR FULL EXISTENTIAL PURGE.”

Chrono frantically scanned the scrolls. “I found Percy’s record!”

Percy had never been happier to hear his own name. “Great! Put me back in reality!”

Chrono unrolled the document. “Right, I just need to make a few quick adjustments.”

Zippy vaulted over a desk as another correction beam obliterated a chair behind him. “Might want to hurry that up, mate!”

Chrono scribbled something onto the scroll. “And… done!”

Percy didn’t feel any different. “That’s it?”

Chrono smirked. “See for yourself.”

Percy looked up—just in time to see the drone hesitate.

Its glowing eye flickered. “ERROR. SUBJECT PERCY FOGG IS NOW RECOGNIZED AS… A VALID ENTITY?”

Zippy pumped a fist. “Oh-ho, beautiful!”

The drone whirred in confusion. “DISCREPANCY DETECTED. SUBJECT SHOULD NOT EXIST, BUT RECORD STATES OTHERWISE. INITIATING—”

Percy’s stomach dropped. “Wait, what’s it initiating?”

Chrono’s expression darkened. “A Bureaucratic Inquiry.”

The room shook.

Alarms blared.

The very air itself seemed to grow heavier, as if weighed down by endless paperwork.

And then, appearing in a dazzlingly bureaucratic flash, stood a six-foot-tall cosmic administrator in a painfully neutral gray suit.

Her gaze swept the room, radiating pure, corporate authority.

She adjusted her gold-rimmed glasses and spoke in a voice that sounded like it had personally rejected millions of expense reports.

“Who the hell is Percy Fogg, and why is he breaking reality?”

Percy sighed.

This was going to require so much explaining.

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 4 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 4: The Department of Reality Management and Other Bad Ideas

Percy Fogg had never stolen so much as an office pen in his life. He returned library books early. He filed taxes with meticulous precision. He even rewound VHS tapes back in the day, which should have earned him some kind of moral high ground.

So it was especially frustrating to learn that the only way to fix his existential crisis involved breaking into the most heavily secured bureaucratic institution in the known multiverse.

Chrono, the sentient, permanently exasperated pocket watch, had wasted no time laying out the ridiculous plan.

“We need to infiltrate the Department of Reality Management—the organization that decides what does and does not exist,” Chrono explained, pacing across his cluttered workshop. “They keep a Master Index, a list of every valid entity in the multiverse. If your name isn’t in it, reality treats you like a filing error.”

Percy folded his arms. “And let me guess—I’m not in the Master Index.”

Chrono snorted. “Oh no, you were violently erased from it the moment you checked out that book.”

Zippy Trelmor, Percy’s highly questionable guide to interdimensional survival, leaned against a workbench, grinning. “Good news, though! We’re going to steal your existence back.”

Percy groaned. “Why does that sound both illegal and morally unsettling?”

Chrono gave him a flat look. “Would you rather spend the rest of eternity in a bureaucratic void, hovering in a permanent state of cosmic clerical limbo?”

“…Fair point.”

Zippy clapped his hands. “Excellent! Now, the Department of Reality Management is located in the heart of the Central Bureaucratic Plane, which is exactly as miserable as it sounds.”

Percy sighed. “Let me guess. Endless paperwork? Tedious regulations? Horrible elevator music?”

Chrono nodded. “And the security is insane. No unauthorized entities get in. Ever.”

Percy frowned. “Then how are we supposed to sneak in?”

Zippy’s grin widened. “Oh, we’re not sneaking in.”

Percy rubbed his temples. “Please don’t say—”

“We’re walking in through the front door.”

Percy let out a slow, suffering breath. “This is a terrible plan.”

Chrono crossed his tiny arms. “Oh, absolutely.”

It turned out that the Central Bureaucratic Plane was worse than Percy had imagined.

It was a gray, infinite landscape of cubicles and waiting rooms, stretching in every direction. Paperwork drifted through the air like autumn leaves, and the entire dimension smelled faintly of coffee, ink, and disappointment.

At the center of it all stood the Department of Reality Management, an immense glass tower filled with the most powerful bureaucrats in existence—the ones who decided what reality could and could not tolerate.

Standing outside, Percy felt deeply unqualified to be here.

Zippy, on the other hand, strolled up to the entrance like he owned the place.

“Right!” he said, adjusting his unnecessarily dramatic coat. “Percy, you’re now my junior intern. Chrono, you’re a malfunctioning office clock. Let’s go.”

Chrono scowled. “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to get erased or not?”

Chrono grumbled but didn’t argue.

They approached the main security desk, where a floating cube in a business suit hovered behind a counter, processing paperwork with soul-crushing efficiency.

The cube’s glowing eye fixed on them. “State your business.”

Zippy beamed. “Ah, yes, we’re from the Multiversal Compliance Division! We’re here to perform a routine inspection of your Master Index—terribly dull, I assure you, but you know how it is with mandatory oversight reports.”

The cube blinked. “I was not informed of any inspection.”

Zippy gave an exaggerated sigh. “Yes, well, that’s precisely the problem! Do you have any idea how many reality violations we’ve found lately? Misplaced time loops? Rogue paradoxes? Unauthorized use of recursive causality?” He shook his head. “Honestly, it’s a mess. That’s why we need to examine the Master Index immediately.”

The cube hesitated, gears clicking. “I… suppose that is standard protocol.”

Percy barely suppressed his absolute horror at how casually Zippy lied to the most powerful bureaucracy in existence.

Then, miraculously, the cube stamped their paperwork and gestured to the doors. “Proceed.”

Percy blinked. “That… worked?”

Chrono sighed. “Don’t question it. Just keep moving.”

They made it to the Master Index Vault without immediate disaster, which Percy considered a miracle of cosmic proportions.

The vault was massive, filled with glowing scrolls of existence, each containing the details of every real entity in the multiverse.

Zippy whistled. “Right. Time to find Percy’s missing entry.”

Percy hesitated. “What if… my entry doesn’t exist anymore?”

Chrono sighed. “Then we make you a new one.”

Percy frowned. “You can just… write me back into existence?”

Chrono smirked. “Reality is **80% bureaucracy, 15% paperwork, and 5% cosmic accidents. If you know how to work the system, you can get away with almost anything.”

Before Percy could process that deeply unsettling thought, an alarm blared through the vault.

“SECURITY BREACH DETECTED.”

Zippy winced. “Ah. Right. We probably had a limited window before the system caught on.”

Chrono cursed. “Hurry! Grab Percy’s record before—”

The vault doors slammed shut.

A familiar, bureaucratic voice filled the air.

“PERCY FOGG.”

Percy turned slowly to see the pursuit drone from the library floating in the doorway, its red eye glowing with cosmic disapproval.

“YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO EXIST.”

Percy groaned. “Not this guy again.”

The drone whirred menacingly. “PREPARE FOR IMMEDIATE REALITY CORRECTION.”

Zippy clapped Percy on the back. “Right, librarian, you’re about to get your existence reinstated the fun way.”

Percy gulped. “I don’t suppose there’s a less terrifying way?”

Chrono smirked. “Not a chance.”

The drone charged.

And Percy Fogg, former mild-mannered librarian and current bureaucratic outlaw, braced himself for the single most important heist of his life.

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 3 by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 3: How Not to Trust a Con Artist

Percy Fogg had never trusted anyone who introduced themselves with a flourish, and he wasn’t about to start now.

Xyphlox "Zippy" Trelmor had the unmistakable air of someone who had definitely scammed a monarch at least once and possibly sold a fake time machine to a species that didn’t even experience time linearly. He leaned against an invisible surface—possibly smugness itself—grinning at Percy like a man who saw an opportunity rather than a person in distress.

“So, Percy,” Zippy said, slipping an arm around his shoulders as though they were lifelong friends, “let me get this straight. You checked out a quantum-classified book from an entirely unremarkable library, triggered an existential pursuit notice, and accidentally yeeted yourself through reality?”

Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. “I—yes, but I wouldn’t phrase it quite like that.”

Zippy laughed. “No, no, it’s perfect! That makes you the most interesting person I’ve met in—oh, at least a week.”

Percy sighed. He had neither the patience nor the emotional bandwidth for this. “Look, Mr. Trelmor—”

“Zippy, please.”

“—I appreciate the enthusiastic analysis of my increasingly alarming situation, but what I need is a way to undo whatever cosmic clerical error I’ve caused.”

Zippy nodded sagely. “Ah. So you’d like to not be erased from existence. That’s understandable.”

Percy folded his arms. “Do you actually know how to fix this, or are you just prolonging my panic for entertainment?”

Zippy gave a wounded expression, placing a hand on his heart. “Percy, please. I would never exploit a man in existential crisis.”

A small, furry creature with three eyes scampered past, shrieking, “DON’T TRUST THAT MAN! HE SOLD ME A PORTAL TO NOWHERE!”

Zippy coughed loudly. “Unrelated. Now then—” He spun dramatically, gesturing at the floating marketplace around them. “Welcome to the In-Between! A delightful little anomaly wedged between dimensions—home to misfits, fugitives, and people who made very bad decisions involving time travel.”

Percy rubbed his temples. “And why am I here?”

Zippy grinned. “Because you technically don’t exist anymore, my friend. Reality couldn’t process you, so it did the next best thing—filed you in the nearest available pocket dimension.”

Percy groaned. “Fantastic. And how do I… unfile myself?”

Zippy’s grin widened. “Lucky for you, I have just the thing!”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “Does it involve handing you an unreasonable sum of money?”

Zippy gasped. “Percy! I am offended! This isn’t about money! This is about…” He paused. “Well. Okay. Mostly about money.”

Percy sighed. “I don’t have any.”

Zippy’s grin faltered for half a second before snapping back into place. “That’s fine! I also accept favors, IOUs, and mildly dangerous quests!”

Before Percy could object, Zippy clapped his hands. “Now, first thing’s first! To fix your reality situation, we need to visit someone who actually understands the fabric of the multiverse.”

Percy blinked. “Wait, you don’t?”

“Not in a way that would help you,” Zippy admitted. “But I do know someone who does!”

“And who is that?”

Zippy grinned. “Oh, just a sentient pocket watch with trust issues.”

Percy had long since stopped trying to process things logically.

Which was good, because if he had any expectations of normalcy left, the next location would have broken him entirely.

Zippy led him to what could generously be described as a workshop and more accurately as a junkyard caught in a time tornado.

Strange, half-built devices of questionable legality littered the area—some ticking, some glowing, some making unsettling whispering noises.

And sitting in the middle of the mess, atop a precarious pile of defunct time machines, was a very disgruntled-looking pocket watch with arms, legs, and what could only be described as a permanent frown.

“Percy,” Zippy said, spreading his arms like a showman, “meet Chrono the Sentient Pocket Watch!”

Chrono crossed his tiny, mechanical arms. “Who is this?”

Zippy beamed. “A very desperate librarian.”

Chrono sighed. “Zippy, why do you keep bringing me lost causes?”

Percy groaned. “Because I made the colossal mistake of checking out a book.”

Chrono’s gears whirred. “Oh. You’re the idiot who checked out the Guide to Things That Shouldn’t Exist.”

Percy threw up his hands. “It was in my library!”

Chrono nodded solemnly. “And now you’re a cosmic error.”

“Yes! I am aware!”

Chrono tapped his chin. “Well. That’s deeply unfortunate.”

Percy gave an exasperated sigh. “Can you help me or not?”

Chrono inspected him for a long moment. Then, begrudgingly, he muttered, “Maybe. But if we’re going to fix your reality, we’ll need to do something incredibly reckless.”

Zippy clapped his hands. “Excellent! Those are my favorite kinds of plans!”

Chrono turned to Percy. “Tell me, librarian—how comfortable are you with stealing from the most powerful bureaucratic entity in the universe?”

Percy’s stomach dropped. “I—what? No! I don’t steal things!”

Chrono smirked. “Then you’re going to hate this next part.”

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau Part 2 by Benedict H. Archer

Chapter 2: Eviction from Reality

Percy had been chased before—mostly by overzealous library patrons demanding late fee forgiveness—but never by a floating bureaucratic drone hellbent on erasing him from existence.

He dashed between bookshelves, clutching the impossibly illegal book to his chest, while the orb (which he had mentally named The Worst Customer Service Representative Ever) pursued him with a determined, bureaucratic whirr.

“PERCY FOGG,” the orb droned, “PLEASE STOP RUNNING. YOU HAVE BEEN FLAGGED FOR EXISTENTIAL CORRECTION.”

Percy did not stop running.

“You see, that sounds an awful lot like erasure,” he called over his shoulder. “And I’d really prefer not to be corrected out of reality today, if it’s all the same to you!”

The orb beeped impatiently, then emitted a strange, high-pitched ZAP. The floor beneath Percy glitched, flickering into a pixelated mess of missing data. Suddenly, gravity became optional, and Percy found himself floating—his legs kicking uselessly in midair.

“Ah,” he said, flailing. “That’s not ideal.”

“PLEASE HOLD STILL,” the orb continued, “WHILE WE PROCESS YOUR DELETION.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Percy muttered.

With sheer, panicked determination, he pushed off the nearest bookshelf, propelling himself forward like an uncoordinated astronaut. His fingers caught the edge of the circulation desk, and he swung himself back toward solid ground. As soon as his feet hit the floor, he ran straight for the exit.

It was a brilliant plan, really. He would escape, call someone (the authorities? a librarian union? a customer service hotline?), and figure out what, exactly, had gone wrong.

Then the front doors of the library disappeared.

Just—gone. One moment, they were there. The next, only blank wall.

Percy skidded to a halt. “Oh, come on.”

“EXIT DENIED,” the orb announced. “YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED TO LEAVE THIS REALITY.”

Percy turned, backing against the now-nonexistent exit. “Look,” he said, holding up his hands, “I don’t know what kind of bizarre clerical error this is, but I am very much supposed to exist. I have a birth certificate. A driver’s license. A collection of novelty bookmarks. I am, if nothing else, a deeply unremarkable person. So why is reality trying to fire me?”

The orb’s red eye flickered. “YOU CHECKED OUT A RESTRICTED BOOK.”

“I work in the library! That’s literally my job!”

“THE BOOK IN QUESTION IS NOT SUPPOSED TO EXIST.”

Percy hesitated, glancing down at the cover. The golden letters were shifting again.

CURRENTLY READING:
HOW TO ESCAPE REALITY IN THREE EASY STEPS

“Well,” Percy muttered. “That’s not ominous at all.”

The orb whirred louder, its red eye glowing as it prepared another correctional pulse.

“BEGINNING REALITY RESTRUCTURING IN THREE… TWO…”

Then, just as the floor began flickering beneath him again, Percy did something extremely reckless.

He opened the book.

The moment his fingers flipped the first page, the world lurched.

A strange, swirling vortex of colors and sound erupted beneath his feet. A feeling—somewhere between falling and being violently reorganized—rushed through him. The library, the orb, even the walls themselves stretched and warped—

—then reality snapped like a rubber band.

And Percy Fogg was somewhere else entirely.

---

He landed face-first in what appeared to be a marketplace suspended in midair, floating above an infinite sky.

Percy groaned, pushing himself upright. He was now sitting in the middle of a street made of clouds, surrounded by floating vendor stalls, where creatures of all shapes, sizes, and tax brackets were haggling over items that should not, by any reasonable definition, exist.

To his left, a sentient mustache in a tiny suit was arguing with a moss-covered lizard about the price of a bottle labeled “Distilled Regret.”

To his right, a three-headed platypus in a top hat was attempting to sell a device that, according to its label, could “edit your past mistakes for a small but increasingly dangerous fee.”

Percy blinked.

“I have made a grave error.”

Before he could begin to process his surroundings, a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

“Ah-ha!” a voice said. “New arrival! And you still have all your limbs! That’s rare!”

Percy turned to find himself face to face with a man (probably?) wearing a long, iridescent coat, purple-tinted glasses, and an expression that suggested he was either a con artist or someone who had invented con artistry and was immensely proud of it.

“Welcome to the In-Between, friend,” the man said, grinning. “Name’s Xyphlox Trelmor—but you can call me Zippy. And I do believe you’ve got yourself in a bit of a predicament.”

Percy exhaled sharply, adjusting his glasses. “Understatement of the century, Zippy.”

Zippy’s grin widened. “Oh, I like you. Now, tell me—what exactly did you do to get yourself misplaced from reality?”

Percy hesitated. Then, deciding honesty couldn’t possibly make things worse, he held up the book.

Zippy’s eyes widened. Then he laughed.

“Oh, you absolute madman!” he wheezed, clapping Percy on the back. “You checked out the wrong book, didn’t you?”

Percy groaned. “I work in a library!”

“Well, in that case,” Zippy said, dramatically flipping his coat, “you might just be the most accidentally dangerous person in the multiverse.”

Percy buried his face in his hands. “Fantastic.”

Zippy grinned. “Don’t worry, friend. Lucky for you, I specialize in helping people who’ve fallen through the cracks of reality. For a very reasonable fee, of course.”

The Quantum Misplacement Bureau by Benedict H. Archer

 

Chapter 1: The Book That Shouldn’t Exist

Percy Fogg had long accepted that his life would be quiet, orderly, and largely devoid of interdimensional incidents. As the head librarian of the Lower Brampton Public Library and Multi-Purpose Bingo Hall, he prided himself on his ability to maintain a strict Dewey Decimal system, enforce a zero-tolerance policy on loud gum chewing, and go entire weeks without speaking to another human outside of work.

Then, on an otherwise uneventful Tuesday, he checked out a book that didn’t exist.

It wasn’t his fault. Not entirely.

The book had been wedged between A Concise History of Incredibly Boring Bridges and The Definitive Guide to Collecting Rare Mold Samples—both well within the range of titles that regularly went unread. Percy only noticed it because it was… humming. Very softly. Like a cat contemplating mischief.

The cover was a deep, inky black with a title embossed in gold lettering that seemed to rearrange itself every time he looked at it. At first, it read:

THE DEFINITIVE GUIDE TO THINGS THAT SHOULDN’T EXIST.

Then:

PROPERTY OF THE QUANTUM MISPLACEMENT BUREAU. RETURN IMMEDIATELY.

Then:

SERIOUSLY, PUT ME BACK.

Percy frowned. He was, by nature, an obedient sort of person. He had never once in his life failed to return a library book on time, much less stolen one. And yet, something about the shifting title made him uneasy. It was, in a word, untidy.

“Hmm,” he muttered, adjusting his glasses. “You’re not in the system.”

That should have been the end of it. He should have simply put the book back, walked away, and continued living his safe, predictable life. Instead, and this was the part where things truly went wrong, Percy scanned the barcode anyway.

The library terminal emitted a small, panicked beep.

Then the lights flickered. The air smelled briefly of burnt toast.

And then, the computer screen simply displayed the following message:

PATRON IDENTIFIED: PERCY FOGG.
ERROR: YOU DO NOT EXIST.
PLEASE SEE CUSTOMER SERVICE.

Percy stared at the screen. Then at the book. Then back at the screen.

“Ah,” he said, carefully. “That seems incorrect.”

The library speakers crackled to life. A robotic voice, clipped and thoroughly unamused, spoke directly into the quiet:

“ATTENTION: EXISTENTIAL ANOMALY DETECTED. DEPLOYING CORRECTIONAL MEASURES.”

Somewhere above, a ceiling tile dislodged itself and dropped unceremoniously onto the reference desk.

Percy decided it was time to leave.

He scooped up the book and walked as quickly as possible toward the exit, making it exactly three and a half steps before the air around him shimmered. A glowing, circular portal, roughly the size and shape of a disgruntled DMV employee, materialized in the library lobby.

From within, a floating metallic orb with a glowing red eye emerged, scanning the room with an expression that somehow conveyed the distinct impression that it had seen enough nonsense for one lifetime.

The orb fixed its gaze on Percy.

“PERCY FOGG,” it said, voice laced with bureaucratic exhaustion. “BY ORDER OF THE QUANTUM MISPLACEMENT BUREAU, YOU ARE HEREBY SUMMONED FOR IMMEDIATE REALITY CORRECTION.”

Percy clutched the book to his chest. “That sounds ominous.”

“IT IS.”

The orb emitted a sharp whirring noise, and the world around Percy glitched—for a moment, everything looked pixelated, like a poorly rendered video game. Then the bookshelves rippled, the library walls shifted, and Percy had the distinct and horrifying sensation that reality itself was trying to eject him like a bad filing error.

Panicked, he did the only thing that made sense at the time.

He ran.

The orb sighed. Or at least, it made a noise that sounded very much like a sigh if sighs were composed of static and deeply buried resentment.

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF CAUSALITY,” it muttered. Then it activated pursuit mode.

And so, Percy Fogg, mild-mannered librarian, found himself sprinting through the stacks, clutching an apparently illegal book, while a robotic enforcer of reality chased him with all the enthusiasm of someone desperate to finish their shift.

This was, by all accounts, a very bad day.

Exploring the Multiverse: A Journey Through Sci-Fi Realms

 Introduction

The concept of multiverses has long been a captivating theme in science fiction, pushing the boundaries of our imagination and challenging our understanding of reality. In this blog post, we'll take a thrilling journey through the multiverses of sci-fi, exploring the different interpretations, their origins, and the impact they have had on both the genre and our own worldview.

What is a Multiverse?

A multiverse, in the context of science fiction, refers to a hypothetical collection of multiple universes or realities, often coexisting or interconnected in some way. These universes can vary dramatically, each with its own set of physical laws, dimensions, and timelines. The concept of the multiverse is not limited to a single interpretation, and sci-fi has given birth to a plethora of intriguing versions.

Parallel Universes

One of the most common interpretations of the multiverse is the existence of parallel universes. In these universes, every possible outcome of an event occurs in a separate reality. This concept has been explored in works like "Fringe" and "The Man in the High Castle," where characters move between these parallel worlds, facing alternate versions of themselves and their surroundings.

Alternate Dimensions

Another fascinating take on the multiverse involves alternate dimensions, often accessible through wormholes, portals, or advanced technology. "Doctor Strange" in the Marvel Cinematic Universe, for instance, delves into the mystical concept of alternate dimensions, showcasing how they can impact our world and reality.

Infinite Possibilities

The multiverse concept also encompasses the idea that every decision we make spawns an entirely new universe, creating an infinite number of possibilities. This theory has been explored in films like "Sliding Doors" and the mind-bending "The Butterfly Effect," where minor choices lead to drastically different outcomes.

Origins of the Multiverse in Sci-Fi

The concept of the multiverse didn't originate in sci-fi, but the genre certainly popularized and expanded upon it. The roots of multiverse theory can be traced back to early philosophical and scientific thought, including discussions by the likes of Pythagoras and Hugh Everett's Many-Worlds Interpretation in quantum mechanics.

Sci-fi authors and creators have taken these ideas and run with them, creating diverse and imaginative multiverses that continue to captivate audiences worldwide. Notable examples include H.G. Wells' "The Time Machine," which introduced the idea of time travel and alternate realities, and Philip K. Dick's "The Man in the High Castle," exploring the consequences of alternate history.

The Impact of Multiverses on Sci-Fi and Beyond

Multiverses have had a profound impact on the world of science fiction. They provide writers and filmmakers with a canvas to explore complex themes such as identity, choice, and the nature of reality. Moreover, the concept has influenced real-world scientific discussions, with physicists contemplating the possibility of parallel universes and multiple dimensions.

Conclusion

The multiverse concept in science fiction is a testament to human creativity and our unquenchable thirst for exploring the unknown. It challenges our understanding of reality, offering a glimpse into the infinite possibilities that exist beyond our world. As sci-fi continues to evolve, we can only imagine the new and innovative ways in which multiverses will be explored in the future, inspiring us to ponder the mysteries of existence and the vastness of the cosmos.