Where the Dead Things Bloom [46, 47]

Chapter 46: Retail Therapy

"Wait, are you saying Systemfall is millions of years old?" Kristi asked with a very concerned expression.

Nessy tilted her head, considering the question as she snagged up and chewed another crystal fruit. "Maybe? I can't tell for sure. The general feels of wat I'm picking up is that this place isn't just a regular store that got affected by Systemfall a few weeks ago."

"That's ridiculous," Katerina scoffed. "It's just a Superstore that got warped by whatever cosmic bullshit is happening everywhere on Earth. Nothing more."

Nessy's ears flattened in frustration. "Why won't you listen to me? Your souls are literally being kept somewhere in this place, and all you can do is argue! Argue, argue, argue."

"I'm not paying some interdimensional shopping mall," Katerina crossed her arms stubbornly. 

"Tell that to the papercraft monsters trying to collect your debt," Nessy retorted, gesturing to the window where more receipt people were forming, their paper bodies rustling as they surrounded the RV trying to find a way into our domain.

I looked between the arguing pradavarians, feeling the tension building to a breaking point. Nessy's frustration was palpable, her tail stiff with irritation. The raptor sisters maintained their defiant stance, unwilling to admit they might need to follow the store's rules.

"What about finding another exit?" Kirra suggested. "What about delivery entrances or emergency exits?"

“Another random exit will likely lead to another dimension,” Nessy shook her head. “This place is a limitless mess and I’d like to get back to our Ferguson, not the one where everything is made from soup or nails or something.”

“Bloody stuck here with a bloody annoying dog,” Kat growled under her breath, arms crossed.

Nessy growled in pure frustration. Then, her expression shifted to focused resolve. She marched over to the storage compartment where my grandfather's old guitar rested. With a purposeful motion, she pulled it out and settled onto one of the fold-down seats.

"What are you doing now?" Katerina demanded.

"The only thing that seems to work around here," Nessy replied, tuning the guitar with expert fingers. "Communicating with music."

Before anyone could object, she strummed a powerful chord that bounced across the entire RV. She began to sing, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife:

"Listen up, you stubborn raptors,
Time to face what really matters!
This store's alive and keeping score,
Of every item walked out that door!

 Your souls are fragmented, torn apart,
Pieces missing from your very heart.
The Superstore has claimed its fee,
In ways that none of you can see!"

The raptor sisters stared in stunned silence as Nessy continued, her voice growing stronger with each verse. I could feel the song's impact—not just as music, but as something more substantial, like it was weaving itself into the fabric of reality around us, a clear, inescapable message that Nessy was struggling to deliver to Kristi's sisters.

"We can fight these paper creatures,
Shoot and blast their lifeless features,
But they'll return a hundredfold,
As long as your debt remains unsold!"

Kaledoniya's expression shifted from skepticism to wonder as she clapped. Even Kirra seemed entranced, her tail swishing unconsciously to the beat.

"This dungeon's old as time itself,
Each aisle an interdimensional shelf.
It follows rules we must respect,
Or consequences we'll collect!"

The RV's lights flickered in time with the music, and I noticed the receipt-people outside had paused their assault, their scanner-eyes blinking in a pattern that matched Nessy's rhythm.

"Your pride won't save your scattered souls,
Nor will bullets, blades, or brave patrols.
The only path that leads us out,
Is settling debts without a doubt!"

Krysanthea's feathers relaxed as she listened, her amber eyes on Nessy with what was possibly a look of respect and appreciation. Even the fox officer seemed to relax, her fluffy tail wagging to the tune. Bulbee flowers flickered in tune too, Bulwichu tree swaying its crystalline branches to the melody.

"Our packs survived the slime domain,
We'll conquer this retail chain!
But first we have to play its game,
Or forever stuck we will remain!"

Nessy's voice rose for the chorus, her ears perked forward with passionate conviction:

"So swallow pride and pay the price,
Take my advice, don't think it twice!
Your scattered soul-shards we will reclaim,
Restore your essence, end this game!

 The Superstore is patient, vast,
It's lived out ages, unsurpassed.
But we don't have eternity,
To wait out its severity!

 Think of Ferguson waiting there,
Of people counting on your care!
We must return to guard the town,
Not let our stubbornness keep us down!"

As she approached the final verse, Nessy locked eyes with Katerina who still had her arms crossed and seemingly unaffected by the song.

"So what'll it be, Strand sisters three?
Will you trust the husky who can see?
The path ahead is crystal clear,
Pay your debts and get us out of here!"

Concluding the lyrics portion, Nessy strummed the guitar for about ten more seconds with a sweet smile looking like the most precious, cutest husky in the universe, the RV lights pointed at her and making her figure out perfectly, highlighting every feature.

The final chords hung in the air for a bit, reverberating through the RV long after Nessy's fingers had left the strings. For a moment, no one spoke, the impact of her performance leaving us all momentarily speechless.

Kirra was the first to break the silence. "Damn! That was... incredible," she said, her eyes wide with amazement. "How are you so good at music now, Ness?"

"Did you feel that?" Kaledoniya asked, looking at her sisters. "It was like I could sende what she was talking about—our soul fragments scattered through the store!"

Krysanthea nodded with a smile, more used to Nessy's talent compared to her sisters.

Only Katerina remained outwardly unmoved, though I noticed her claws flexing nervously against her elbow. "Neat trick with the artifact-amplified singing," she said dismissively. "But singing doesn't change facts. We can't just roll over and do whatever this place wants."

Nessy set the guitar aside with a sigh. "I'm not saying roll over. I'm saying we need to work within the system to beat it. And that this shop wants payment."

"With what?" Katerina demanded. "We don't exactly have millions in cash to cover everything we've taken! What's it even gonna charge for a watch that can rewind time?!"

"I think," Nessy said slowly, her nose twitching, "we need to work here."

"What?" Katerina's red-tinted cheek scales seemed to darken with incredulity.

"Get jobs at the Superstore," Nessy clarified. "Start paying off the debt through labor. Once we've shown good faith by working off some of what we owe, I'm pretty sure the door will reappear. We follow the rules, we get out."

"That is the most ridiculous—" Katerina began.

"I think that," Krysanthea interrupted, "it makes a twisted kind of sense. If this place is an infinite dungeon that operates on retail logic, then employment is a valid form of debt repayment."

"You can't be serious!" Katerina turned to her sister. "We're going to become cashiers in a haunted Superstore filled with monsters that'll try to bite our faces off anytime we don't pay attention?"

"If it gets us out of here with your souls intact, then yes," Krysanthea replied firmly.

Katerina's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. "This is insane. All of it. And I'm not taking orders from an effing dog!"

"Maybe we can discuss this in a more relaxed setting," I suggested, sensing the growing, murderous tension. "Kristi, Kat, can we talk in the dining area?"

After a moment of glaring at each other, the two eldest Strand sisters followed me to the small dining booth. I sat on one side, while they squeezed in across from me.

"Look," I began carefully, "I understand your concerns, Katerina. This situation is... unprecedented and weird. But Nessy has proven right about things so far—the slime core, your Superstore artifacts taking pieces of your souls. Maybe we should trust her on this too."

"Why should I?" Katerina hissed, leaning forward. "This is Ferguson's survival we're talking about! Who knows how long it's going to keep us here! Our family has maintained order through this crisis—we've kept people fed, safe, and relatively normal. Then you two show up with your... freaky RV artifact and a singing dog, and suddenly we're supposed to follow you, change everything?"

"We're not asking you to change everything," I countered. "Just try to adapt to the reality we're facing right now. And you only mainly need to follow Kristi's orders as she's Chief, right?"

"I was fine with Kristi having a human boyfriend," Katerina continued, ignoring my point. "Even a househusband is acceptable—humans make excellent partners for career-driven pradavarian raptors! But a dog? In your pack? That crosses a line, Kristi!"

Krysanthea's feathers flared with sudden anger. "Who I include in my pack is none of your business, Kat!"

"It absolutely is my business when it affects our family and our town!" Katerina shot back. "Do you have any idea what Father would say if he knew you were pack-bonded with a lowly canine? The scandal would undermine everything we've worked for!"

"Our father is not the ultimate authority on my life!" Krysanthea's voice rose dangerously.

"He's the Lord Marshall of Ferguson!"

"And I'm the Chief Ranger," Krysanthea countered. "I've proven myself capable of making decisions for the safety of our town, with or without his approval."

"Are you?" Katerina challenged, her golden eyes flashing. "Because from where I'm sitting, you've been compromised. Highway 69 clearly broke something in you, Kristi! Don't think that I can't see how your ha..."

That was the final straw. With an animalistic snarl, Krysanthea lunged across the table at her sister. They crashed to the floor in a tangle of scales and feathers, claws flashing as they wrestled for dominance.

I blinked at them from my seat, startled by the sudden violence. Nessy appeared at my side, sliding into the booth beside me, watching with a relaxed expression as the two raptors rolled across the RV floor, hissing, growling, scratching and biting each other.

"Should we stop them?" I asked uncertainly.

"Noppers," Nessy replied. "This is raptor conflict resolution. Very normal for them, actually."

"They solve things with violence?"

"Yes. This da raptor way," the dog-girl replied. "Don't try to get in between 'em or you'll get sliced."

"Aight."

The fox-girl and two raptors sisters retreated, to make as much space for the two wrestling sisters in the middle of the RV.

The two sisters fought with impressive coordination and power despite the confined space. Katerina had the advantage of raw aggression, but Krysanthea fought with a bit more measured technique. They slammed into the kitchenette, sending plastic cups clattering to the floor.

Kaledoniya and Kirra watched, making no move to intervene.

I glanced at them.

"Typical stuff at the Strand house," Kirra commented with a nonchalant shrug. "Kat’s always trying to become top raptor. They go at it at least once a week."

After a particularly intense flurry of movements, Krysanthea managed to pin Katerina to the floor, her forearm pressed against her sister's throat, her knee keeping her sister's body immobilized.

"Yield," Krysanthea growled, her amber eyes blazing, claws pointed at Kat's eye.

Katerina struggled for a few more seconds before going limp. "Fine," she spat. "I yield."

"You will not question my decisions, Deputy Chief," Kristi hissed.

"I will not question your decisions, Chief."

"You will respect my... dog." Kristi waved at Nessy who beamed, tail wagging.

"I will respect your dog," Kat hissed out.

Krysanthea released her sister and stood, adjusting her rumpled uniform with dignity despite the feathers sticking out in all directions.

"Now that that's settled," she said as if nothing unusual had happened, "we need to decide our next steps."

"What exactly is the problem with dogs anyway?" I wondered. "From my perspective, Nessy's been the most consistently helpful person in this entire situation."

Katerina, let out a bitter laugh, rising from the floor. "Dogs are emotional, unpredictable, and intensely territorial. They form inappropriate attachments and refuse to let go. Their pack bonds border on obsession. During season changes and cycle events they become even more unmanageable—howling, marking territory, messing up public spaces, picking fights and assaulting people of opposite gender."

"And raptors don't have any similar issues?" I countered.

"We control our instincts, train ourselves to push them into organizational focus!" Katerina insisted, finally sitting up. "Dogs wallow in theirs! We know when it is time to step away!"

Nessy clung to me, stepping closer to me.

"See?" Kat growled. "She thinks that she owns you, idiot human!"

"Kat," Kristi spun to her sister. "You will respect my… Alec!"

"I will respect your boyfriend," Katerina muttered, lowering her eyes to the ground in a submissive gesture.

"Kat, to be fair," Kaledoniya interjected unexpectedly. "Nessy's demonstrated more insight than any of us so far. She helped stop the slimes, right?"

"Right," Kristi nodded.

"So, she can clearly smell things we can't perceive," Kaledoniya concluded.

Katerina stared at her younger sister in disbelief. "You're taking her side?"

"I'm taking the side of getting out of here alive," Kaledoniya replied. "Humans have always been the calmest, most rational species. It's why they're trusted with the most critical roles in society. If both Alec and Nessy n’ Chief think this plan will work, I'm willing to try it."

"I agree," Kirra chirped. "Besides, did you hear her sing? That was... sooo cool! I've never experienced anything like it."

Katerina looked between her sisters, then at Nessy and me, her expression shifting from anger to resignation.

"You're all against me then," she said flatly. "You're all falling for her artifact-power."

"Not against you," I corrected. "For getting everyone home safely."

"Fine," Katerina finally conceded, though her eyes still burned with defiance. "We'll try it your way."

Nessy's tail began wagging tentatively. "So we're agreed? ‘Operation Employment’ begins?"

"Yes," Krysanthea confirmed. "We follow the store's rules and see if it helps us resolve this situation."

"Don't expect me to be happy about it," Katerina grumbled.

"I never expect you to be happy about anything," Nessy replied cheerfully, earning a deadly glare from the dark-scaled raptor.

She sniffed the raptor and seemed to realize something, her tail stopping its waggingz expression darkening. She didn't say anything though.

Krysanthea stepped forward, assuming her leadership role once more. "Alright, we need a concrete plan. If we're going to work in this place, we need to figure out how to apply for jobs, where to find the soul fragments, and how much we need to pay off."

"I'm on it," Nessy declared, her nose already twitching as she slid one of the windows open slightly and sniffed the air. "Got it! First things first—let's find the Human Resources department!"

[Quest Update: "Supermarket Sweep" - New Objective: Secure employment at the Infinite Superstore to begin debt repayment!"]

The System message flashed at us.

Chapter 47: Employee Orientation

"The Human Resources department is this way," Nessy declared, pointing down one of the seemingly endless aisles stretching. 

“We all going?” Kale asked.

Nessy sniffed the air. “Officer Lavros can stay in the RV and make sure nothing tries to tow it away to where we can’t find it.”

Kristi nodded to her and the fox-girl slid into the driver's seat.

“We’re acquiring jobs! Please do not papercut us!” Nessy declared to the papercraft employees as she swung open the door.

We had cautiously exited the RV, leaving the fox to guard our mobile domain. 

The receipt-people had withdrawn to a respectful distance but continued to watch us with their scanner-eyes, tracking our movements through the store.

"How are you so certain that’s where they give out jobs?" Kirra asked skeptically.

"Because," Nessy tapped her nose, "I can smell the distinct aroma of cheap coffee, printer toner, bureaucracy and disappointment!"

Despite Katerina's glare, we followed Nessy's lead, moving in tight formation through the store. The layout was disorienting—aisles that should have been straight seemed to curve subtly when you weren't looking directly at them. Products on shelves changed brands and packaging, the text becoming more absurd looking with each aisle.

"Stay in close formation," Krysanthea instructed, her hand resting on her sidearm. 

“It's fine,” Nessy said. “I should be able to smell danger way ahead.”

“But not our souls?” Kat asked coldly.

"That's hardly reassuring," Kirra muttered.

“Your souls are hidden and far,” the husky huffed. “I’m talking about smelling things in a nearby aisle vs somewhere infinite.”

As we walked, I noticed strange phenomena occurring around us. Price tags flickered between currencies—dollars to euros to yen to something that looked like mathematical symbols. When we approached they settled on dollars and cents.

Occasionally, shoppers would appear in our peripheral vision, pushing carts filled with various items, only to vanish when we turned to look directly at them.

"Who are they?" I asked Nessy quietly, nodding toward where I'd glimpsed a woman in 1950s attire disappearing around a corner.

"Other customers probs," she replied. "From different times, different places. This store exists across multiple dimensions, remember? We're just seeing... echoes, I guess. People shopping in parallel Superstores that occasionally overlap with ours."

The lights overhead buzzed and flickered at random. Announcement chimes sounded periodically, followed by garbled messages that almost made sense before dissolving into static.

“Why didn’t we drive closer?” I asked Nessy.

“The Store doesn’t like it when customers drive through the isles,” she replied. “Like highway 69—the only way through is on foot. Using a car gets you nowhere close to where you want to go.”

After what felt like hours but was probably only about thirty minutes of walking, the aisle opened up into what appeared to be an office area. Desks arranged in neat rows stretched into the distance, each occupied by a paper-person typing on outdated computers. A reception counter stood at the entrance, behind which sat a particularly large receipt-construct wearing horn-rimmed paper glasses.

A sign above the counter read "HUMAN RESOURCES - ALL SPECIES AND CONCEPTOIDS WELCOME!" in flickering neon.

"Told you," Nessy declared triumphantly.

Krysanthea stepped forward, assuming her official Chief Ranger posture. "We'd like to apply for employment," she stated firmly.

The paper receptionist's scanner-eyes blinked once, then it pulled out a stack of forms from a drawer.

"APPLICATION FORMS. COMPLETE ALL FIELDS. BE AWARE—APPLICATIONS FEATURING FALSE EMPLOYMENT HISTORY WILL BE SHREDDED ALONG WITH APPLICANT." Its voice crackled like paper being crumpled.

"Friendly," Katerina muttered as we each accepted a form.

Looking down at the application, I found a bewildering array of questions, many of which made little sense:

Name:
Species/Construct Type:
Number of limbs (current):
Number of limbs (preferred):
Previous retail experience (list all dimensions and timelines):
Reason for employment: [ ] Need money [ ] Soul debt [ ] Existential fulfillment [ ] Court-ordered [ ] Other
Weekly availability (check all that apply): [ ] Mornings [ ] Afternoons [ ] Evenings [ ] Nights [ ] Weekends [ ] Liminal hours [ ] During temporal anomalies

Prefer to work in [ ] Time matching your dimension of origin [ ] Accelerated time [ ] Slower time [ ] Liminal Time.

You self-identify as: [ ] Linear, [ ] Entropic, [ ] Syntropic, [ ] Infinite, [ ] Liminal

I glanced at Nessy, who was already filling out her form with surprising confidence, her tongue slightly protruding in concentration.

"Just answer honestly," she advised without looking up. "The human resources department appreciates honesty."

Krysanthea took charge again. "Everyone find somewhere to sit and complete these forms. Katerina, Kaledoniya, make sure you indicate your soul debt situation clearly. That might help expedite getting your fragments back."

We scattered to nearby desks to work on our applications. I found myself sitting next to Nessy, who had already filled out half her form.

"How do I answer the 'preferred number of limbs' question?" I whispered to her.

"Just put what you have now," she replied. "That question is mostly for constructs and higher-dimensional beings who can alter their forms."

I nodded and continued working through the bizarre questionnaire. Some sections required detailed information about previous employment (I listed my part-time jobs during college), while others asked seemingly random questions like "Favorite integer between 7 and 7.1" and "Do you dream in XML?"

“Am I linear?”

“Mostly, yes.”

“Mostly?”

“You were kinda leaning towards being infinite in my dream, I think,” she replied. “That was very cool, by the way. Thanks for being my best.” She licked my cheek.

“I… okay.” I added a [✓] into the Linear category.

By the time I'd finished, Nessy had already turned in her application and was chatting amiably with the paper receptionist. The receptionist seemed to be responding positively, its paper body rustling in what might have been laughter.

One by one, we submitted our completed forms. The receptionist gathered them into a neat stack, then pressed what appeared to be an intercom button on its desk.

"NEW APPLICANTS FOR IMMEDIATE PROCESSING. CODE 881—DEBT RECOVERY PROGRAM.”

Within moments, a door materialized in what had previously been a solid wall. It swung open to reveal a severe-looking woman in an immaculately pressed management uniform. Unlike the paper constructs, she appeared human—except for her eyes, which resembled blue-tinted barcode scanners, flickering ever so slightly. Her black hair was styled in a tight bun and a letter G sat on her lapel.

"I am Insurance, HR Director of the G-Supercenter," she announced in a cool voice. "Follow me for orientation and department assignments."

Nessy swallowed hard.

The grayscale woman in the black and white suit turned without waiting for a response and walked through the door. We exchanged glances before following her into a large conference room containing a long table surrounded by office chairs. A projector screen dominated one wall, currently displaying the Superstore or perhaps the Supercenter logo—a stylized "S" that seemed to fold in on itself and loop into the infinity symbol.

"Please be seated," Insurance instructed, taking her position at the head of the table. "Orientation will begin momentarily."

As we settled into the chairs, I noticed strange details about the room. The clock on the wall had thirteen hours marked on its face, and its second hand occasionally moved backward. The potted plants in the corners were growing tiny shopping bags instead of flowers. The ceiling tiles appeared to be made of compressed loyalty cards.

“What’s wrong?” I asked the slightly trembling, no longer confident-looking husky.

“She’s… a Number,” she answered simply.

“What?” I asked.

“Don’t know,” Nessy shook her head. “She’s wrong. Limitless. Extra-Syntropic. Worse than anything I’ve smelled in my entire life. Don’t get on her bad side.”

“Kay,” I whispered back.

"First, let me congratulate you all on making the wise decision to join the G-Supercenter family," Insurance began, her barcode eyes scanning across our faces. "We are the premier retail establishment across all known and unknown dimensions, specializing in providing goods, services, and existential fulfillment."

She clicked a remote, and the screen changed to show an organizational chart so complex it made my eyes hurt to look at it.

"The Superstore operates on limitless hierarchical levels, seventy seven of which are comprehensible to three-dimensional beings," she continued briskly. "Most of you will begin at Level 1, with opportunities for advancement based on performance and survival rates."

"Survival rates?" Kirra echoed nervously.

Insurance's smile didn't reach her scanner eyes. "Retail can be challenging," she said simply, before moving on. "Now, based on your applications and our current staffing needs, I've assigned each of you to appropriate departments." She produced a stack of employee badges from nowhere and began distributing them.

"Katerina Strand: Loss Prevention. Your natural suspicion, self-rewind and combat skills will be valuable in dealing with shoplifters and extra-dimensional theft entities."

Katerina accepted her badge with a scowl, examining the plastic card that showed her name and a grainy photo of her I was certain hadn't been taken.

"Kaledoniya Strand: Shelf Restocking. Your acceleration alignment will allow efficient merchandise placement."

The youngest raptor took her badge with significantly more enthusiasm than her sister.

"Kirra Strand: Customer Service. Your... interesting approach to problem-solving may be useful in dealing with our more unusual clientele."

Kirra's eyes narrowed at the description but she said nothing as she took her badge.

"Krysanthea Strand: Sales, Frozen Foods section. Your experience makes you suitable for this position."

Krysanthea nodded, pinning her badge to her uniform immediately.

"Nessy Whitepaw: Special Inventory Detection. Your olfactory abilities will help locate misplaced or interdimensionally shifted merchandise."

Nessy nodded as she accepted her badge, not looking at Insurance in the eyes. 

Finally, Insurance turned to me. "Alec Foster: Cart Collection and Domain Liaison. Your unique reconstitution abilities make you ideal for retrieving shopping carts from hazardous dimensions, and your connection to a syntropic domain may prove useful in stabilizing certain store sections."

I blinked in surprise. "How do you know about my abilities?"

"The store monitors all purchases, returns, and customer attributes," she replied matter-of-factly. "Now, regarding your particular situation—" she looked at the three Strand sisters, "—you have accumulated significant debt through unauthorized merchandise acquisition. Your employment will count toward debt reduction at a rate of 17.3% of standard Eurekan wages, with the remainder going toward your soul fragment recovery."

"How long will it take to recover all fragments?" Krysanthea asked.

Insurance consulted a calculator that materialized in her hand. "At current rates, with diligent work and no further infractions... approximately 3837 work cycles."

"What's a work cycle?" Kaledoniya asked.

"What you would call a 'shift,'" the HR director explained. "Approximately eight hours of dimensional standard time.”

“That’s… ten years if we work eight hours a day,” I pointed out, making the raptors gasp and choke. “You expect us to spend ten years here?”

“If you work hard, you will be promoted and will receive a better salary,” Insurance stated. “Overtime hours are accessible to all employees.”

"Assuming time passes normally here," I added, remembering the strange clock.

"Time is not always linear in the Supercenter," Insurance confirmed with an unsettling, white-teethed smile. 

"What about our vehicle?" Krysanthea asked. "We need to ensure it remains secure."

"Your domain-vehicle has been registered in our employee parking database," Insurance replied. "It will remain unmolested by other store employees. In fact, we've moved it to a more convenient location near the employee entrance. Your badges will guide you back to it for rest when your shift ends. They will also unlock cafeterias and vending machines and allow you to purchase meals at a 10% employee discount.”

She stood abruptly. "Now, your uniforms are in the lockers behind you. Please change and report to your assigned departments immediately. Your supervisors will provide specific instructions."

“Miss Insurance… Can we go home to Ferguson after our shift?” Kaledonya let out.

“If you assist the store enough to improve your customer credit rating out of the negative, you’ll eventually be permitted to find your way home,” Insurance said. “You will need to return to your jobs daily to pay off your debt so as not to accumulate interest. Have a Good Tomorrow.”

With that, she walked to the wall and simply... Folded into it, leaving us alone in the conference room.

"Yep," Nessy said, forcing a smile on her face and turning to the metal lockers that had appeared along the back wall, "I guess we're officially Superstore… or G-Supercenter employees now."

"I can't believe we're doing this shit," Katerina muttered, reluctantly approaching the locker with her name on it.

"It's just temporary," I reminded her. "Get in, work off enough debt, recover the soul fragments, get out."

"Easy for you to say," she retorted. "You're not the one missing pieces of your soul that’ll take ten fucking years to get back.”

"No, I'm just the one who's going to be retrieving shopping carts from 'hazardous dimensions,'" I replied dryly.

Each locker somehow had our name on it and contained a standard Superstore uniform tailored to our species—blue vests with the store logo for the humans, modified versions with tail accommodations for the pradavarians. They fit perfectly, which was unsettling considering no one had measured us.

Once changed, we regrouped in the center of the room, all looking somewhat ridiculous in our matching corporate attire.

"How do we find our departments?" Kirra asked, tugging at her vest uncomfortably.

As if in response to her question, lines appeared on the floor below our feet—different colored paths leading from our current position presumably to our assigned sections.

"Follow the yellow brick road, I guess," Nessy quipped, indicating the bright orange line leading from her feet.

Before I could say anything, an announcement chimed overhead:

"ATTENTION SHOPPERS AND STAFF: THE STORE WILL BE EXPERIENCING MINOR REALITY FLUCTUATIONS IN AISLES 456873 THROUGH -350284 DUE TO DIMENSIONAL CONVERGENCE. PLEASE WATCH YOUR STEP TO AVOID FALLING INTO NULL SPACE BACKROOMS. THANK YOU FOR SHOPPING AT G-SUPERCENTER."

"Wonderful," Krysanthea sighed. "Everyone stay alert, remember why we're here, and try not to get... whatever happens in this place."

"Liquidated," Nessy supplied helpfully. "That's the term they use when employees disappear."

"Not helping, Nessy," I said.

"Scuse me, just translating the local lingo!" She grinned, her tail wagging despite our predicament. "See y'all later! I’ll try to finish my shift quick-like and help you out ASAP!"

She rushed off, paws flashing.

With that, we separated, each following our designated path into the vast, impossible expanse of the infinite shop, officially beginning our employment in the most cosmically bizarre retail establishment in existence.

My yellow line led me through a dizzying series of turns, past shelves stocked with products that defied explanation—canned emotions with nutritional labels, boxes of quantum uncertainty principles, fresh produce that changed species as I walked past. Eventually, I emerged into what appeared to be a massive parking lot, except it was somehow indoors, with a ceiling so high it disappeared into clouds.

Scattered across the endless expanse were shopping carts—thousands, no millions of them, in various states of distress. Some were normal, while others were twisted into impossible shapes or partially phased into the ground. A few appeared to be moving on their own, skittering across the pavement like nervous animals.

A man in a blue vest approached me. He looked human except for the shopping cart handle that had somehow replaced his left arm, fingers made from metal shopping cart bars, fingernails textured like the handlebar too.

"You must be the new cart collector," he said cheerfully. "Welcome to Cart Purgatory! I'm Jim, your supervisor."

"Nice to meet you," I replied, trying not to stare at his cart-handle arm.

"Don't worry about this," he said, noticing my gaze and waving his metal appendage. "Occupational hazard. Happens to most cart collectors eventually. Some of the carts... they get into you after a while."

That did nothing to alleviate my concern.

"Now," Jim continued, "your job is simple but vital. Retrieve carts from throughout the lot and any dimensional rifts you encounter. Insurance gets cranky when carts go missing."

"Dimensional rifts?" I echoed.

Jim pointed to what I had initially mistaken for a puddle about thirty feet away. Looking at it, I realized it wasn't reflecting the ceiling—it showed a completely different sky, with three moons and a green sun.

"That's a small one," Jim explained casually. "Sometimes carts roll into these and end up in other realms. Your job is to go get them."

"You want me to jump into that?" I asked incredulously.

"Oh, it's perfectly safe," Jim assured me. "Well, 'safe' might be overstating it. But, according to the memo I got, you'll be fine even if you temporarily die! That's why you're perfect for this position."

I stared at him, then at the dimensional rift puddle, then back at him.

"I'm going to need a better explanation of what I'm getting into," I said firmly.

Jim sighed. "Fair enough. Let me show you the equipment room first. You'll need the specialized gear."

As he led me toward a small shed at the edge of the lot, I couldn't help wondering how the others were faring in their new positions. And more importantly, whether this insane plan would actually work to recover the sisters' soul fragments and get us home.

[Quest Update: "Supermarket Sweep" - Objective: Complete first work shift without permanent dimensional displacement. Progress 15% - "Officially employed!"]

The equipment room turned out to be a dilapidated shed that was somehow larger on the inside—much larger. The walls stretched away to infinity, lined with tools and gear that defied conventional physics. Some items appeared to be partially transparent, others seemed to exist in multiple places simultaneously, and a few changed form when viewed from different angles.

"Here we are!" Jim announced cheerfully, leading me past shelves of bizarre equipment. "The Cart Collection Specialist armory!"

He stopped at a section marked with a faded sign reading "DIMENSIONAL RETRIEVAL GEAR - USE AT OWN RISK (COMPANY NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR EXISTENTIAL FRAGMENTATION)."

"Not exactly reassuring," I muttered.

"Standard legal boilerplate," Jim waved dismissively with his cart-handle arm. "Now, let's get you outfitted. Don’t go too far reaching for equipment—stuff further out will have errors and entropy all over it."

He began pulling items from the shelves and handing them to me: a vest with numerous pockets that seemed to have more storage space than physically possible, a helmet with blinking lights and small antennae, gloves that gradually shifted color from blue to green and back, and a long metal pole with a hook on one end.

"This is your retrieval pole," Jim explained, patting the device affectionately. "Essential for snagging carts from other dimensions without fully committing your body to the rift."

"And if I do have to go through?" I asked, examining the strange equipment.

"Then you'll want this," Jim handed me what looked like a small, rusted anchor on a metal chain. "Dimensional anchor. Keeps you tethered to our reality plane. Mostly reliable."

"Mostly?"

"Well, sometimes it gets iffy.”

“Iffy how?”

“Don't try to get into areas with high entropy, basically.”

“And how am I supposed to…”

“Your badge will scream.”

“Uhh… okay,” I sighed. 

I was already somehow missing Nessy constantly being a sweet, fluffy, extra-invasive critter at my side, convinced that my personal luck would absolutely displace me into some horrible dimension which would melt my face off.

“Hiiii,” her voice suddenly declared from my right, nearly making me jump.

“What-the-fuck?!” I spun. “Nessy?! How did you get here?! Shouldn't you be…”

“Nope! I am the cart retrieval employee supervisor now,” she grinned.

“How?!” I asked incredulously.

“I used Scrutiosmia to work only in way-accelerated time zones and finished a bunch of my shifts plus overtime and was rewarded with a higher position of authority! Eeeee!” She burst out, hugging me. “I missed you sooooo much, Alec!”

“Accelerated time? Wait… How long have you been working in this place?”

“About five and a half weeks!”

“WHAT?! Did you sleep?”

“Nope, noppers, noppery. I bought coffee cups from this rare vending machine that basically cancels sleep. Is how I got the overtime bonus and got approved for my transfer here, see!” She bobbed, her eyes more wild than I had ever seen them. “I couldn't just let you work by yourself! The liquidation rate for shopping cart retrieval is way too high!” She waved her hands, looking extra manic, fur disheveled and sticking out in places. “Reconstitution won’t save you if you fall into an entropic or an infinite hole to everywhere and nowhere.”

“Ness,” I said. “Are you… okay?”

“A little bit insane, maybe,” she confessed. “But this is fine! I’m here for you now. Gonna supervise you extra-hard!”

She smacked me with her hip and tail.