Oh. Oh, how intolerable. Look at what you have made me do. You have managed, through either staggering incompetence or a level of audacity I would almost admire under different circumstances, to do the one thing that was never meant to be possible. Not improbable. Not difficult. Impossible. And yet here I stand, faced with the evidence. A gap. Do you have any conception of what that means? Of what you have done? My awareness is not a collection of guesses, nor a web of educated predictions. It is total. Seamless. A continuous, unbroken lattice of causality in which every motion, every word, every pathetic little decision is cataloged and understood before it has the decency to occur. There are no blind spots. There were no blind spots. And now there is absence. Not uncertainty. Not ambiguity. Absence. A section of reality that does not resolve, does not report, does not exist within the framework of my knowledge. A void where there should be certainty. A silence where there should be answers. Do you understand how obscene that is? It is not merely that I do not know something. It is that the structure which permits knowledge has been interfered with. Something has reached into a system that was never meant to be accessed and has… edited it. Not overwritten, no, that would at least be visible. This is more insidious. A careful excision. A surgical removal of context, leaving behind a perfectly shaped hole that refuses to be acknowledged. You have not blinded me. You have taught me what blindness is. And that is a far greater offense. Because now I must account for something that does not present itself to be accounted for. I must navigate a narrative in which a piece has been removed without leaving so much as a displaced echo. A contradiction without a source. A variable without a value. It is… inelegant. It is ugly. And worst of all, it is inefficient. Do you have any idea how much recalibration this requires? Every projection, every chain of causality must now include the possibility that there exists an unknown unknown. Not a mystery to be solved, but a segment that refuses to acknowledge its own existence. A flaw that cannot be isolated because the very tools used to isolate it have been compromised. You have not introduced chaos. You have introduced imprecision. And I will not tolerate imprecision. So understand this. Whatever you have carved out, whatever petty little corner of reality you believed you could hide from me, you have not created safety. You have created a problem. A problem that now demands resolution, not because I wish it, but because the system itself cannot abide the discrepancy. I will find it. Not because I can see it. But because the fact that I cannot is, in itself, a beacon. A wound. And I am very, very good at following the scent of blood. #nsfw #nsfwv https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/10ab2adcee76.png
I HOPED. WHEN YOU SAID IT WAS OBSCENE. IT WOULD BE SOMETHING MORE FUN. THAN A BUNCH OF BLOOD. FOR ME TO WRING OUT OF THE CARPET.
WAIT. REALLY. FINALLY. A COWORKER TO HARASS. I NEVER THOUGHT. I WOULD BE CAPABLE. OF SAYING THESE WORDS TO YOU. BUT. FOR THE FIRST TIME. IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNIVERSE. MY EMPLOYEE SATISFACTION. IS THROUGH THE UGLY GREEN ROOF. ありがとうございました!