Zachariah Trench was no stranger to the disorienting pull of the Astral Plane, but the sensation never ceased to unnerve him. One moment, he was reviewing Darling's latest notes in his office; the next, his vision blurred and the walls of the Oldest House melted away, replaced by the stark, monochromatic expanse of the Plane.
The sharp lines and geometric shapes of the Plane stretched endlessly in all directions, bathed in a sterile, gray light. Trench stood on a floating platform of black rock, its edges sharp and unnaturally clean. Ahead, a massive, triangular shape loomed from "above"—the Board. Its presence was oppressive, its form both static and shifting, as if reality itself couldn't quite hold it in place.
"DIRECTOR."
The voice of the Board boomed in Trench's mind, a cacophony of overlapping tones that made his teeth ache. He straightened, his face stoic despite the growing knot in his gut.
"I'm here," he said, his voice steady. "You summoned me."
The triangular shape pulsed with light, its edges crackling with energy. "YOUR ACTIONS IN THE FOUNDATION. RISKY/UNAUTHORIZED/UNWANTED."
Trench's jaw tightened. "We contained the rift. Prevented further destabilization. I'd call that a success."
"RECKLESS/DISRESPECTFUL/INCOMPETENT/CHILDISH."
The words hit like hammer blows, but Trench held his ground. "We were dealing with an unprecedented threat. Waiting for your permission would have cost us everything."
The Plane trembled, the Board's energy flaring brighter. "THE ROLE OF DIRECTOR. NOT YOURS TO ALTER. YOUR POSITION. CONDITIONAL/LIMITED/TEMPORARY."
For the first time, Trench felt a flicker of real fear. He knew the Board's power; it was absolute. If it decided to strip him of the title of Director, there would be no recourse. The Service Weapon would reject him, and he'd be cast back into obscurity—or worse.
"I did what I had to," he said, his voice quieter but no less firm. "I acted in the Bureau's best interest."
The Board's light dimmed for a moment, and then the Plane shuddered violently. The platform beneath Trench's feet cracked, jagged edges forming as pieces of the rock began to fall into the void below.
"THE DIRECTOR'S FAILURE. UNACCEPTABLE."
A tendril of energy shot out from the Board, wrapping around Trench like a vice. He struggled against it, but the pressure was immense, his vision narrowing as the Plane's gray light turned blinding.
"Stop!" Trench growled, his voice strained. "This is—"
Before he could finish, a new presence entered the Plane.
A soft, lilting hum echoed through the void, carrying with it an eerie calm. The energy binding Trench flickered and weakened, and the pressure around him lifted.
"Ahti…" Trench whispered, his voice hoarse.
The janitor stepped onto the platform, his blue uniform pristine despite the Plane's abstract chaos. He moved with his usual deliberate pace, a push broom slung casually over his shoulder.
The Board pulsed violently, its triangular form vibrating as though in agitation.
"UNEXPECTED/UNINTENDED/UNWANTED. INTERFERENCE."
Ahti didn't even look at the Board. Instead, he glanced at Trench, his pale eyes twinkling with quiet amusement. "You shouldn't argue with the higher-ups, Director. They don't like it, you see. Very bad for office harmony."
Trench stared at him, his mind racing. "Ahti… what are you doing here?"
Ahti tilted his head, his smile faint but steady. "Cleaning up messes. That's what I do. You've made a bit of a mess, haven't you?"
The Board's form flickered again, its light dimming as if recoiling. "THIS. UNACCEPTABLE/AWFUL/BAD."
Ahti finally turned toward the Board, his expression calm but his presence suddenly imposing. "Now, now," he said softly, his voice carrying a strange authority. "The Director stays. You know the rules. Or have you forgotten?"
For a moment, the Plane was silent. Then the Board's voice returned, quieter but no less grating. "AGREED. TEMPORARY."
The energy dissipated, and the platform beneath Trench stabilized. Ahti turned back to him, his demeanor as casual as ever. "You see? It's all about balance. Don't let them push you too hard, Director. You've got work to do."
Before Trench could respond, Ahti began to hum again, his form fading into the void as though he had never been there.
Back in the Oldest House
Darling paced in the lab, his hands fidgeting as he double-checked the equipment for the Black Rock Quarry expedition. The harmonizer had been recalibrated, and a new set of stabilizers had been prepared to handle any resonance anomalies they might encounter.
A nearby clock ticked softly, marking Trench's prolonged absence.
"Where is he?" Darling muttered under his breath. "The Board shouldn't take this long."
Salvador entered the lab, his expression sharp. "The Rangers are ready, but we can't delay much longer. If Trench doesn't show up soon, we'll have to postpone the mission."
Darling shook his head. "No. He'll be back. He has to be."
As if on cue, the door to the lab opened, and Trench strode in. His expression was unreadable, but there was a tension in his movements that Darling didn't miss.
"Director," Salvador said, stepping forward. "What did the Board say?"
Trench ignored the question, moving to the table where the expedition gear was laid out. He picked up a flashlight and clipped it to his belt before finally speaking.
"They're watching," he said grimly. "But we move forward. Get the team ready. We leave for the Quarry in one hour."
Darling exchanged a glance with Salvador, then nodded. Whatever had happened in the Astral Plane, it wasn't over.
And as they prepared for the next stage of their investigation, the hum of the Oldest House seemed almost anticipatory, as if it, too, was waiting to see what they would find.
