Ne Job: The Intern from Hell — Chapter 66: "The Shard of Tomorrow" (Yue's Path)
The air was too quiet.
No divine hum. No bureaucratic murmur. No sound of paper fluttering in heavenly drafts.
Just ash… and the faint, rhythmic pulse of a heartbeat that didn't belong to her.
Yue stirred, her fingers brushing against something warm. When her vision focused, she saw Ne Job, unconscious beside her, his uniform scorched and his hair streaked with black soot. The faint glow under his skin pulsed erratically — like the light of a dying lantern trying to hold form.
> "You idiot…"
Her voice cracked. She pressed her hand against his chest, channeling what little divine energy she still had. The Chaos Spark residue stung her, but she refused to pull away.
Then, from the shattered horizon, the Shard Court sigil flickered into existence — a projection, shimmering through the air like a scar over reality.
Judge Shard's voice echoed through the dust:
> "Containment breach… confirmed. The vessel and his companion remain unstable. Initiate retrieval before collapse."
Yue looked up sharply.
> "No. You don't get to take him."
Her voice was low, almost shaking — not from fear, but fury.
From the fog stepped a Shard Court warden, clad in mirrored armor, face blank behind its sigil mask. Its presence twisted the light around it, like a reflection with no source.
> "Assistant Yue of Bureau 9," the warden intoned. "By order of the Shard Court, the vessel known as Ne Job is to be transferred for final purification."
> "He's not a vessel," Yue snapped, rising between them. "He's an intern. My intern."
The warden tilted its head. "Then you are accessory to contamination."
Before Yue could react, the warden's sigil flared — and a binding glyph formed beneath her feet. She felt her divine signature constrict, a vice tightening around her soul.
> "No…" she hissed, slamming her hands together. Her seal mark burned to life, breaking the first glyph, but another immediately replaced it. The Shard Court wasn't playing around — this was containment authority.
Her knees hit the ground. Ne Job stirred weakly behind her, voice hoarse:
> "Yue… don't… fight them…"
She turned sharply.
> "You shut up. You've caused enough paperwork for a millennium."
And then — for the first time since the blast — Ne Job smiled faintly.
That single moment broke something in her restraint.
Yue rose again, her aura flaring silver-white, burning through the air like shredded moonlight.
> "If the Shard Court wants him," she said, summoning her weapon, "then they'll have to file the request in person."
The warden's reflection blinked — and the ground shattered.
Yue launched forward, divine seals bursting from her sleeves like chains of light. The first strike hit the warden's chest, the second shattered its sigil barrier. Each motion felt like tearing through her own essence — but she didn't care.
> "You can't judge someone who hasn't even finished his internship!"
The warden retaliated — blades of mirrored light slashing across the battlefield.
Yue caught one on her arm, another with a deflection charm, blood staining her sleeve.
Still, she smiled — feral, brilliant, furious.
> "Ne Job," she whispered through clenched teeth. "You owe me so much overtime for this."