If there was one thing Jax had learned after surviving a demonic promotion ritual, multiple attempted assassinations, and a surprise kiss from the girl he liked in the middle of an exploding office—
It was this: Casual Friday was a lie.
"Why is there a goat in the break room?" Emily asked.
"It's not a goat," Rafe said, sipping burnt coffee. "It's Greg. He works in Accounts Payable."
Greg bleated angrily and knocked over a box of soul donuts.
Jax rubbed his temples. "Okay, let me get this straight. Today is Casual Friday, which in HellCorp means—"
"Everyone has to dress down and bring in their most cursed dish for the office potluck," Emily finished. "It's an ancient, binding pact. Attendance is mandatory."
"Binding pact?" Jax blinked. "Like... magically binding?"
Greg the goat began levitating while vomiting fire.
"Yes," Rafe said flatly. "Binding."
Potluck of the Damned
The employee lounge had been redecorated with hellfire bunting and a "Welcome Back, Survivors of Promotion Ritual!" banner hanging over a cursed fondue fountain.
On the table:
A blood pudding that hissed if you got too close
A demonic casserole bubbling with sentient cheese
A bowl of off-brand cereal that tried to rearrange your memories
A single salad that was just... normal (everyone suspected sabotage)
Jax leaned over a tray labeled Spicy Summoning Nachos and recoiled when the cheese growled.
Emily appeared behind him. "I made those."
He blinked. "I'm terrified and impressed."
"You should be. I used three kinds of hell-pepper and a little vengeance."
"What kind of vengeance?"
"Personal."
A tiny fork emerged from the dish and stabbed the air like it was seeking retribution.
Rafe dumped a blob of shrieking jelly onto a plate. "Try the Flan of Infinite Regret. It tastes like guilt and unpaid taxes."
Jax raised an eyebrow. "I thought this was a casual Friday."
Emily grinned. "You've never survived Casual Friday before."
Team-Building Death Maze
At exactly 10:00 a.m., the floor of the lounge dropped six inches and a loudspeaker boomed:
"Welcome to the Mandatory Casual Friday Team-Building Exercise! Today's event: THE MAZE OF SELF-DISCOVERY. Exit the office. Find your truth. Don't die."
The walls rippled and shifted, transforming the entire HellCorp 13th floor into a sprawling, interdimensional labyrinth of HR-approved danger.
Emily blinked. "Well, that's new."
Rafe groaned. "Last time it was karaoke. I died during a rendition of 'I Will Survive.'"
Jax looked at the now-moving hallway lined with teeth and time-warping motivational posters. "We have to escape that?"
Emily shrugged. "Or self-discover. Either works."
Level 1: The Intern Gauntlet
The first corridor was littered with unpaid interns—zombie-eyed, clipboard-wielding husks in business-casual dress.
They lunged at Jax, chanting:
"Did you fill out your time sheet?"
"Can you stay late for just fifteen minutes?"
"Did you get the memo?"
He screamed and tried to run, but they boxed him in with passive-aggressive teamwork.
Emily kicked one in the face and shouted, "Cover your ears! That's how they get in!"
Rafe chucked a coffee mug of holy espresso, and the interns hissed and fled like caffeinated vampires.
Jax gasped. "How are they so strong?!"
"They haven't been paid in two years," Rafe muttered. "They run on vengeance and exposure."
Level 2: Elevator of Existential Crisis
They piled into a moving cube that looked like an elevator but instead of buttons, there were moods.
Emily selected "Regretfully Determined." Rafe chose "Mildly Suicidal with Sass."
Jax hesitated.
"Pick one or we'll end up in Accounting," Emily warned.
Jax chose "Anxiously Hopeful," and the elevator began to play a lo-fi remix of demon screams.
"Are we supposed to feel something?" Jax asked.
Rafe answered, "Yeah. Regret."
The doors opened—and they stepped into a cubicle farm where every desk was manned by a duplicate version of themselves… except worse.
Emily stared at her doppelganger, who wore a beige suit and had a cat mug labeled Live, Laugh, Comply.
"Okay, no," she said, and punched it through the partition.
"Very self-actualizing," Jax noted.
"My therapist will be so proud."
Level 3: The Breakroom of Broken Dreams
Inside, a single vending machine flickered.
On it: a glowing bag of Ambition Chips.
Emily reached out, but Rafe stopped her. "That's a trap."
"What? I'm hungry!"
"They're made of aspirations. You eat one, you lose a goal."
Jax grabbed a bag, opened it, and popped a chip into his mouth.
Everyone stared.
He blinked. "Huh. I no longer want to write that novella about talking trench coats."
Emily frowned. "That might be a net gain."
They moved on, stepping over a motivational poster that read:
"DREAMS ARE JUST DEADLINES IN DISGUISE."
"Yikes," Jax muttered.
Level 4: HR Boss Battle
At the maze's heart waited a monstrous version of the HR director—now fused with a spider, wielding a clipboard and shooting performance reviews like bullets.
"You failed to submit Form 8-X!" it screamed. "Your PTO request was DENIED!"
Jax dodged, barely missing a stapler flung with malicious intent.
Emily shouted, "Distraction plan?"
Rafe pulled a glitter bomb out of his coat. "Always."
He tossed it. The HR beast shrieked and staggered, blinded by sparkles.
Emily lunged forward with a letter opener enchanted with complaint forms and stabbed it through the heart of its power: an unfiled complaint.
The creature exploded into a pile of outdated onboarding manuals.
Exit Interview
They emerged onto the rooftop again—sooty, bruised, and laughing.
"You know," Jax said, "I thought today would be boring."
Emily tossed her hair back. "It was casual. Casual mayhem."
Rafe slumped onto a bench. "I'm officially applying for interdimensional sick leave."
Jax turned to Emily. "Thanks for saving me. Again."
She grinned. "It's mutual."
"Does this mean we're...?"
She stepped closer, brushing his cheek. "We're chaos-compatible."
He kissed her. Brief, warm, promising.
Rafe fake-gagged. "I swear if you two start writing joint emails, I'm defecting to BloodLedger."
Just then, the sky ripped open and a flaming fax descended from the heavens.
Emily caught it.
"TO: Chaos Initiative Trainees
SUBJECT: Field Mission
LOCATION: Office of Eternal Litigation, Dimension B
DRESS CODE: Business Casual
OBJECTIVE: Survive
ETA: Now."
The paper burst into flame.
They stared at each other.
"Lunch first?" Jax asked.
"Definitely," Emily said. "Then more chaos."
End of Chapter 6