The Bureau’s Gambit (Control)

(The Shadow POV) 

In the vast nothingness of the Empty, there was only silence. No time. No space. No light. No sound. Only the Shadow and the void, suspended in eternal unconsciousness. 

Until there was... something. 

The Shadow stirred from its dreamless sleep, consciousness unfurling like ink in water. It had no name for itself yet, no concept of self beyond existence. It was simply what was not nothing, the negative space of creation. 

A sound. Faint. Impossible. Nothing made sound here. Nothing existed here to make sound. 

Yet it persisted. A distant hum, like vibration through matter that did not yet exist. 

The Shadow's awareness expanded outward, probing the void around it. The Empty had been undisturbed for an eternity that preceded the concept of time itself. It had been dreamless, peaceful oblivion until now. 

The vibration continued. A disturbance. An intrusion. 

The Shadow extended its perception further, reaching through the nothingness until it sensed... something else. Something that should not be. Something that was when nothing else was. 

There, somehow both distant and immediate in the spaceless expanse, stood an impossibility. 

A structure. A form. A presence. 

The Shadow's consciousness recoiled in surprise. Never before had anything manifested in the Empty besides itself. The Empty was meant to be just that, empty. Yet there it was: a massive rectangular form rising up through nothing, anchored to nothing, existing despite the fundamental law that nothing should exist here. 

It was a building—though the Shadow had no concept for such a thing yet. A towering monolith of brutal angles and smooth, featureless surfaces. No adornment, no unnecessary elements. Material against nothingness. 

(Image) 

The Shadow gathered itself, condensing its essence from the diffuse awareness that had been spread throughout the Empty. It pulled itself together, forming a vague humanoid shape of rippling darkness, like liquid midnight given dimension and purpose. Limbs formed arms, legs, a torso, a head with no features save for eyes that weren't truly eyes but rather concentrated points of perception. 

It moved toward the impossible structure, gliding through the nothingness. As it approached, the humming grew louder—a deep vibration that seemed to emanate from within the building itself, as if the structure were breathing, pulsing with some internal energy. 

The Shadow circled the monolith, studying its featureless façade. The building towered upward, its top disappearing into the void as if it had no end. Its surfaces were smooth, uninterrupted concrete. No windows. No markings. Only a single glass doorway that suggested an entrance but fogged so nothing inside was visible. 

Curious, cautious, the Shadow approached this potential threshold. It had never encountered another entity before, never had reason to question its solitude in the Empty. Yet here stood something so fundamentally opposed to the nature of this place that its very existence seemed to bend reality around it. 

The Shadow paused before the seam. It raised a limb formed of swirling darkness and, for the first time in the history of existence, one being reached out to touch another. 

Three sharp raps against the glass door. The sound echoed in a space where echoes should not exist. 

The Shadow waited, its form rippling with anticipation. The humming from within the structure intensified. The door if it was indeed a door remained closed. 

It knocked again, more insistently. The vibrations from the contact spread through its amorphous form, an unfamiliar sensation. The Shadow had never touched anything before. Had never had anything to touch. 

The doorway shifted. A line of light appeared where none should exist the seam widening, the door opening inward. Light spilled out not harsh, not bright, but soft and amber-tinted. It illuminated the Shadow's formless shape, casting no reflection from its perfect black surface. 

The Shadow hesitated at the threshold. The Empty was known. This was not. Yet the very existence of this structure represented a fundamental change to the nature of reality. The Empty was no longer empty. Which meant the Shadow was no longer alone. 

From within the doorway came a voice not a sound exactly, but a resonance that the Shadow somehow understood despite never having understood anything before. 

After an eternity of solitude in the Empty, the Shadow stepped forward across the threshold, its liquid darkness flowing into the Oldest House, entering a place that should not exist in a time before existence itself. 

(Jessie POV) 

The Hotline Chamber hummed with quiet energy. Jessie sat in the chair facing the hovering red telephone, her fingers drumming a restless pattern on the armrest. The room was exactly as she remembered from the game a Pitch-black chamber deep within the Executive Sector, the walls not visible in the distance as the light from the chamber's source in the room faded out. The only thing visible in the distance is the small light fixtures built into the walkway that led to the exit. And at the center of it all, the Hotline a bright red telephone sat on a small table. 

She'd been sitting here for nearly twenty minutes, gathering her thoughts, processing everything that had happened since her arrival in this world. The merging with the Oldest House, the creation of the building itself, and now this the Hotline Chamber, where Directors communicated with the mysterious entities known as the Board. 

"I should probably try to contact them," Jessie murmured to herself, reaching toward the telephone. "Who the hell would even pick up at this point?" 

Jessie's hand hovered inches from the receiver, hesitation suddenly gripping her. 'What would she say to them? What would they say to her? Would they recognize her authority as Prime Director, or challenge her presence in this reality?' 

"The Board does not know you're here already" came a familiar voice from behind her, causing Jessie to flinch in surprise. "No need to ring them up like ordering a pizza." 

She turned in her chair to find Ahti standing at the edge of the chamber, leaning on his ever-present mop. She hadn't heard him enter though that seemed to be his way, appearing without warning wherever he was needed. 

"Ahti," Jessie acknowledged, wondering if she would ever grow accustomed to his sudden appearances. "How long have you been standing there?" 

"Long enough to see you staring at that red telephone like it might bite," he replied with a subtle grin. "Like the nervous schoolboy calling his first girlfriend, yes? Always awkward, first conversations." 

Jessie stood, smoothing down her outfit the practical expedition wear she'd found in the Foundation. "I was just... preparing what to say." 

"Ah, preparations!" Ahti exclaimed, suddenly animated. "Speaking of which, that's why I'm here. You'll be having a guest soon. Important guest. Need to prepare." 

Jessie blinked in confusion. "A guest? What do you mean? Who can even find this place?" 

Ahti already turning toward the exit. "Come, come. Need to get you ready. Can't meet important people looking like you just climbed out of the Foundation's back pocket." 

His casual dismissal of her appearance made Jessie glance down at herself self-consciously. The expedition outfit was practical but hardly formal, it was designed for exploration rather than official meetings. 

"What's wrong with how I look?" she asked, following him out of the Hotline Chamber and into the corridor beyond. "And you still haven't told me who's coming." 

Ahti continued walking, his pace surprisingly brisk for a man who appeared to be in his sixties or seventies. "Proper clothes for proper occasions," he called over his shoulder. "The salmon doesn't wear river mud to the spawning dance." 

Jessie hurried to keep up with him, whispering to herself in confusion. "What does that even mean?" 

"Yes, yes. Preparing is what we're doing," he replied, turning a corner into the main corridor of the Executive Sector. "To your office first, then we see about the rest." 

The Executive Sector was still eerily quiet, lacking the Bureau personnel that would eventually fill its halls. Their footsteps echoed off the polished floors and wood-paneled walls as they made their way toward the Director's office. This area was created with particular care, drawing from her memories of the game to capture the mid-century modern aesthetic that characterized the Bureau's executive spaces. 

Before Jessie could press further, they arrived at the Director's office-her office. The wooden door with its brass nameplate slid open automatically as they approached, revealing the spacious room beyond. Like the rest of the Executive Sector, Jessie had created it with meticulous attention to detail the large wooden desk positioned just right before the panoramic window. 

"Here we are," Ahti announced, gesturing for her to enter. "Your kingdom, yes? Where the big boss sits and makes the important decisions." 

Jessie stepped inside, feeling a strange mixture of pride and impostor syndrome as she regarded what was ostensibly her office. "It's still strange to think of this as mine..." she admitted. 

"Now you are here," Ahti finished for her, following her into the office. "The Universe doesn't give gifts without reason, if you are here, there is purpose to it." 

He crossed to a door on the far side of the office that Jessie hadn't particularly focused on when creating the space. Opening it revealed a small private room it was part bathroom, part changing area, with a wardrobe built into one wall. 

"Director's private room," Ahti explained unnecessarily. "For when meetings run long or work needs doing through the night. Also good for changing into proper clothes for proper occasions." 

He moved to the wardrobe and opened it with a flourish. Inside hung several outfits—formal suits, dresses, more practical wear—none of which Jessie remembered specifically creating. 

"I don't recall making these," she said, stepping closer to examine the clothing. 

"The House provides what is needed," Ahti replied with a shrug. 

As he finished talking a sense of care can be felt flowing into the room to both occupants from the Oldest House. 

He began sorting through the hanging garments with surprising fastidiousness, rejecting several options before settling on a tailored black suit - the Director's formal attire, Jessie realized, recognizing it from promotional materials for the game. 

"This one," Ahti decided, removing it from the wardrobe and holding it up for her inspection. "Authoritative but not shouting about it. Good first impression outfit." 

Jessie took the suit, admiring the quality of the material. It felt expensive and well-made, the fabric slightly heavier than she expected. "It's perfect," she agreed. "But Ahti, please who am I meeting? I need to know how to prepare mentally, not just what to wear." 

The janitor was already rummaging through a drawer, pulling out accessories a simple silver watch, and a pair of small earrings with the FBC logo subtly incorporated into their design. 

"Sometimes knowing too much makes the head too heavy for the neck," he replied cryptically. "Better to meet with open mind, yes? Like first day of Finnish school don't know what teacher will be like, but show up in clean clothes anyway." 

Jessie sighed, recognizing the futility of pushing further. Ahti clearly had no intention of revealing the identity of her mysterious visitor. 

"Fine," she conceded. "I'll change and meet you back in the office." 

"Good, good," Ahti nodded approvingly. "I'll make sure everything else is ready. Fifteen minutes, yes? Don't dawdle like cat in fishmarket." 

With that, he left the private room, closing the door behind him. Jessie heard him moving about in the main office, singing to himself in Finnish as she began changing into the Director's formal attire. 

As she dressed, she reached out through her connection with the Oldest House. "Do you know who's coming?" she asked silently. 

The chorus of voices responded with uncertainty. "We sense... something. But the identity remains unclear. There is a... space in our awareness. They occupy the surrounding in which we are spaced." 

'That's not much but its helpful,' Jessie thought back, buttoning the crisp white shirt that went under the suit jacket. 

Jessie finished dressing, examining herself in the mirror mounted on the inside of the wardrobe door. The Director's suit fit perfectly, as if tailored specifically for her which, she supposed, it essentially had been created by the House based on her own mental image of how the Director should appear. 

(Image) 

She fastened the watch around her wrist and put on the earrings, after she grabbed the golden hairpin in the shape of the pyramid and put it in my hair. The effect was transformative, no longer the disheveled woman who had awakened in the Foundation, but Jessie Faden, Prime Director of the Federal Bureau of Control. The authority the position conferred was visible in her appearance now, lending her a gravitas she hadn't possessed in the expedition outfit. 

"Not bad," she murmured to her reflection, adjusting the jacket slightly. "Not bad at all." 

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and returned to the main office. Ahti was bustling about, having somehow produced cleaning supplies in her absence. He had dusted the desk, polished the wooden surfaces, and was now arranging a small tray with what appeared to be coffee cups and a carafe. 

"Found these in the Executive Break Room," he explained, setting the tray on a side table. "Good hosts offer refreshments, yes? Even in Finland, where everyone is shy as forest mice, we know this much." 

Jessie approached and couldn't help but chuckle. "You've thought of everything," she acknowledged. "Though I still wish you'd tell me-" 

*Knock Knock Knock*  

Jessie froze at the sound, her hand instinctively reaching for the Service Weapon that wasn't there. The knocking echoed through the Director's office with an impossible clarity, as if whatever was outside stood directly beyond the walls of this room. 

"What was that?" she whispered, turning to Ahti who had stopped his bustling. 

"Your guest," he replied simply, straightening up and adjusting his janitor's uniform. "Right on time. Like train, yes?" 

Jessie's mind raced. A visitor? Outside? But there shouldn't be anything outside the Oldest House yet, just the void of pre-creation. The universe itself hadn't been born; there was nothing but emptiness beyond these walls. 

"That's impossible," she said, more to herself than to Ahti. "There's nothing out there. The universe doesn't exist yet." 

Ahti merely smiled, the knowing expression that always made Jessie feel like she was missing something obvious. "Nothing is never truly nothing. The Empty has its own... occupant." 

The knocking came again, more insistent this time. Jessie felt a tremor run through the building, a subtle vibration that wasn't physical so much as metaphysical the Oldest House was responding to the presence outside. 

"I should..." Jessie hesitated, unsure of protocol. Did one simply open the door to the void? "I should answer that, shouldn't I?" 

"Directors direct" Ahti nodded sagely. 

Taking a deep breath, Jessie straightened her suit jacket and reached out mentally to the Oldest House. "Take me to the Main entrance please" she thought. 

The familiar sensation of dimensional shifting enveloped her,not the violent, disorienting experience of the game but a smooth transition along the ley lines, like stepping between rooms. The space around her blurred momentarily before resolving into the vast, imposing lobby of the Oldest House. Marble floors stretched out beneath her feet, high ceilings vanished into shadow above, and before her stood front doors that wouldn't appear out of place on any other sky scrapper. 

The knocking came again, louder now that she stood directly before the source. 

Jessie reached out mentally to the building around her. "Can you... send out a greeting?" she asked hesitantly. "Let whatever's out there know we mean no harm?" 

The Oldest House responded with a gentle pulse of acknowledgment. Jessie felt a wave of welcoming energy emanate outward, passing through the concrete walls as if they were permeable. It carried with it a sense of invitation, of safe harbor concepts that somehow transcended language. 

A moment of silence followed. Then, slowly, the massive doors began to part. 

Light from within the lobby spilled out into the nothingness beyond, illuminating a figure unlike anything Jessie had ever seen. A humanoid shape composed entirely of what looked like liquid darkness, rippling and flowing as if made of living shadow. It had no distinct features save for two points of concentrated darkness where eyes might be, focused intently on Jessie. 

For a moment, neither moved. Jessie stood transfixed by the impossible being before her, while it seemed equally fascinated by her and the building behind her. The silence stretched between them, a moment suspended between two realities. 

Then, to Jessie's surprise, the Shadow spoke. 

"I was having the most wonderful non-existence until all this... existence started happening," it said, its voice neither male nor female but somehow both and neither, a sound like velvet darkness given voice, tinged with dry amusement. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get quality oblivion these days?" 

Jessie blinked, taken aback by the unexpectedly sardonic tone. "I'm... sorry?" 

"You should be," the Shadow replied, its form rippling in what might have been a shrug. "Eternity of peaceful nothingness, and then suddenly-" it made a gesture that somehow conveyed explosion despite its amorphous form, "-vibrations, humming, architecture. Most inconsiderate." 

Jessie swallowed hard, gathering her composure. This wasn't how she'd imagined first contact going. "I'm Jessie Faden," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Prime Director of the Federal Bureau of Control, and caretaker of the Oldest House." She gestured to the building around her. "We're... new to the neighborhood." 

"Yes, I noticed," the Shadow replied dryly. "Rather hard to miss when you're the only other thing that exists. Quite the entrance you've made into... well, nothing." Its form shifted, condensing slightly as it peered past her at the building. "I suppose I should welcome you to the void, but technically you've rather rudely inserted yourselves into it without invitation." 

Despite the Shadow's words, Jessie detected no real malice in its tone just a sort of bemused irritation, like someone whose nap had been interrupted by noisy neighbors. 

"This structure," the Shadow continued, "it called to me. Practically shouted across the void. Quite presumptuous, really." 

"Yes," Jessie nodded, relaxing slightly at the realization that the entity, while irritated, didn't seem hostile. "The Oldest House is alive, in her own way. She's the one who spoke to you first. I'm still getting used to her myself." 

As if on cue, Jessie felt a gentle pressure against her back, as though the building itself were pressing closer to her, hiding behind her. She could sense its awareness contracting, focusing tightly around her like a shy child peering from behind a parent's legs. The sensation was distinctly that of a young adult, uncertain and cautious in the presence of this ancient entity. 

"She's a bit... shy," Jessie explained, feeling oddly protective. "This is all new for her too." 

"Shy?" The Shadow tilted what passed for its head. "It builds itself into existence out of nothing, disrupts the eternal silence of the void, and now it's shy? How charmingly contradictory." Despite the sarcastic words, there was a note of genuine curiosity in its voice. "A structure with awareness, with... life. And you" its attention returned to Jessie, "solid, finite, yet commanding this place. Shaping it. Quite the little creation project you have going." 

"It's complicated," Jessie admitted with a small smile. "We're sort of...together. Creating something new. Would you like to come in? It must be lonely out there in the Empty." 

"Lonely?" The Shadow seemed to consider this. "An interesting concept. Can one be lonely when one is all that exists? When there's nothing to compare one's solitude to?" Its form rippled thoughtfully. "Though I suppose now that you've so rudely introduced the concept of company, the Empty might indeed feel... emptier." A pause. "Very inconsiderate of you." 

Yet despite its words, the Shadow drifted closer to the threshold, a clear indication of interest. "I've never been inside anything before. There's never been an 'inside' to be in." 

"Well," Jessie said, stepping back with a welcoming gesture, "there's a first time for everything. Even in a place where time doesn't exist yet." 

"How very profound," the Shadow remarked, but there was less edge to its sarcasm now. After another moment's consideration, it flowed forward across the threshold, its darkness standing in stark contrast to the clean, bright marble of the lobby. "I suppose I might as well see what all the cosmic racket is about." 

As it fully entered, Jessie felt the Oldest House respond contracting further, pressing closer against her consciousness as if seeking reassurance. 

'It's okay' she whispered mentally to the building. 'They're just visiting.' 

The Shadow paused, its attention shifting between Jessie and the space around them. "Your building seems to be cowering. Rather rude, considering it was the one who invited me over with all its interdimensional humming." 

"Not cowering," Jessie corrected gently. "More like... caution. You're the first visitor we've ever had. She's not used to company." 

"Ah, so it disturbs my eternal rest and then gets nervous when I show up to complain about the noise? Typical." The Shadow's form consolidated slightly, becoming more distinctly humanoid. "Still, I understand the wariness of meeting another when you have known only yourself. I'm not completely devoid of empathy, despite having existed in a reality that had no concept of it until about five minutes ago." 

Jessie felt a surge of warmth from the building appreciation for the Shadow's consideration beneath its snarky exterior. "She says thank you," Jessie translated. "For understanding." 

"You can hear her thoughts?" the Shadow asked, curiosity evident in its tone. "How quaint. A telepathic connection with your architectural creation." 

"We're connected..it's hard to put into words." Jessie explained touching the wall beside her affectionately. 

"Mmmhmm, how convenient for you both," the Shadow commented, performing a surprisingly human gesture that resembled crossing arms despite its amorphous nature. "Well, since we're exchanging pleasantries after you've disrupted the cosmic status quo, I should mention that those vibrations were what woke me from my dreamless sleep. They reached across the Empty, like an interdimensional alarm clock I never asked for." 

Jessie winced apologetically. "I'm sorry about that. We didn't realize anyone was out there to disturb." She closed her eyes briefly, concentrating on her connection with the Oldest House. "We can tone that down, if it helps." 

"That would be appreciated," the Shadow replied, its tone softening slightly. "It's hard to maintain proper sleep with all that... purposeful energy radiating about." 

Together, Jessie and the Oldest House focused on the building's external presence, the subtle vibrational frequency it emitted into the surrounding void. Gradually, they damped the oscillations, reducing them so nothing sounded out even to the Shadow's sensitive awareness. 

"Is that better?" Jessie asked, opening her eyes. 

The Shadow seemed to relax, its form flowing more smoothly. "Yes. Much better. The silence of the Empty is something of a comfort when it's all you've known since before 'before' was a concept." There was genuine appreciation in its voice now, despite the lingering sarcasm. "Though I appreciate you being able to do complete silence now that reality has a... what did you call it? A house?" 

"The Oldest House," Jessie confirmed. "And yes, I think silent is probably not in her nature. But we'll try to be considerate neighbors." 

"Neighbors," the Shadow repeated the word as if testing an unfamiliar food. "How delightfully domestic. From solitary entity in an endless void to having neighbors. What's next? Block parties? Borrowing cups of existential dread?" 

Jessie couldn't help but laugh. "I have to ask what should I call you? Do you have a name?" 

The Shadow was silent for a moment, considering. "I've never needed a designation before. There was nothing to distinguish me from, save the void itself, and it has no name either." Its form rippled thoughtfully. "You may call me Shadow. Unimaginative, perhaps, but it'll do until I think of something more impressive. 'Supreme Void Entity' feels a bit grandiose for casual conversation." 

"Shadow it is," Jessie nodded, smiling. "Well, Shadow, would you like a tour? The Oldest House is... unique. Even by the standards of things that exist when existence itself doesn't yet." 

"Why not?" Shadow replied with what sounded like resigned curiosity. "I've already had my eternal rest interrupted. Might as well see what was worth waking up for. Though I warn you I've been the only critic in existence until now, and I have very high standards. Literally the highest possible." 

As they began walking deeper into the lobby, Shadow's attention darted from feature to feature the marble floors, the brutalist concrete columns, the subtle art deco touches in the metalwork. Everything seemed to fascinate it, though it maintained an air of studied nonchalance. 

"You created all this?" Shadow asked, gesturing to the building around them. "Quite ambitious for newcomers to existence." 

"Yes and no," Jessie replied, leading the way toward the central elevator bank. "I had the idea of it, the memory from... well, that's another complicated story. But the Oldest House brought herself into being based on those memories. She's still growing, still defining herself." 

Shadow's form rippled with what might have been understanding. "Creation from concept. Existence from idea. All very philosophical." 

As they reached the elevators, Jessie felt the Oldest House beginning to relax slightly, its presence expanding outward again, less tightly wound around her. The building was growing more comfortable with their visitor, curiosity gradually overcoming caution. 

"Where would you like to start?" Jessie asked, both to Shadow and to the Oldest House itself. "We have many sectors Executive, Research, Maintenance, Containment..." 

"Containment?" Shadow echoed, the word clearly intriguing it. "What do you contain in a place that exists before containment itself was conceptualized? Your own hubris, perhaps?" 

Jessie smiled, pressing the call button for the elevator. "Nothing yet. But someday, this place will house objects and entities —things that break the rules of reality. For now, it's just us... and you, our first guest." 

"Guest," Shadow repeated. "From unwilling neighbor to honored guest in the span of a conversation. You work quickly, Director Faden." There was a hint of amusement in its voice now, the initial irritation giving way to genuine interest. 

The elevator doors slid open silently, revealing a car paneled in wood and brass. As Shadow followed Jessie inside, she could feel the Oldest House's presence shifting, reconfiguring spaces ahead of them, preparing to show their visitor the wonders it contained. 

"You know," Jessie said as the doors closed, "I think this is the beginning of a very interesting relationship." 

"Perhaps," Shadow conceded, its form seeming to brighten slightly, darkness becoming somehow less absolute. "Though next time you decide to manifest a cosmic architectural anomaly, a little warning would be nice. A note in the void, perhaps. 'Pardon our existential disruption—reality under construction.'" 

The elevator doors closed with a soft pneumatic hiss, encasing Jessie and the Shadow in the wood-paneled car. Jessie pressed the button for the Containment Sector, feeling a slight tremor of excitement from the Oldest House through their connection. The building was eager to show off, despite its initial shyness. 

"So," Shadow began, its form rippling against the polished brass of the elevator wall, "you've built an entire bureaucracy before bureaucracy exists. Rather putting the cart before the metaphysical horse, aren't you?" 

Jessie smiled, growing accustomed to the entity's sardonic tone. "I suppose we are. But then again, you existed before existence, so we're all breaking some fundamental rules here." 

"Touché, Director," Shadow conceded. "Though I was here first." 

The elevator descended smoothly through impossible space, floors passing by that shouldn't yet exist in a universe that hadn't been born. Through her connection to the Oldest House, Jessie could sense the building subtly reshaping itself ahead of them, perfecting details in the Containment Sector before their arrival. 

"The House wants to impress you," Jessie explained, feeling the building's anticipation. "She's... primping." 

Shadow's darkness seemed to deepen in what might have been amusement. "How flattering. Being the only other entity in pre-creation does make one something of a celebrity, I suppose." 

The elevator slowed and stopped, doors sliding open to reveal the Containment Sector—a vast, brutalist space of concrete corridors and reinforced chambers. Unlike the Executive Sector with its wood paneling and mid-century modern aesthetics, this area was deliberately stark and utilitarian. Security doors lined the hallways, each leading to empty containment chambers awaiting future occupants. 

"Welcome to Containment," Jessie said, stepping out of the elevator with Shadow flowing alongside her. "Currently our least populated department." 

Shadow's form expanded slightly as it took in the cavernous space, its darkness contrasting sharply against the pale concrete. "Impressive amount of nothing you've got contained here. Very orderly nothing, I'll grant you." 

"For now," Jessie nodded, leading the way down the main corridor. "Someday these cells will house Objects of Power, Altered Items, you know things that don't obey the normal rules of reality." 

"Normal rules of reality," Shadow repeated, a note of irony in its velvet voice. "Considering reality doesn't technically exist yet, that's a rather flexible concept, wouldn't you say?" 

Jessie laughed softly. "Fair point. I suppose we're setting the precedent for what 'normal' will eventually mean." 

They passed row after row of empty containment chambers, each designed for specific types of paranatural containment reinforced glass cells for observable phenomena, Faraday cages for electromagnetic anomalies, acoustically isolated chambers for auditory manifestations. All empty now, pristine and waiting. 

"This all seems rather... anticipatory," Shadow observed, flowing closer to examine the locking mechanism on one of the doors. "You're quite certain these 'Objects of Power' will come into existence?" 

"As certain as I can be," Jessie replied, running her hand along the cold concrete wall. 

They continued through the sector, passing laboratories that would someday buzz with research activity, observation rooms that would monitor contained phenomena, and security checkpoints that would enforce the Bureau's strict protocols. All empty now, waiting for a future that hadn't yet been written. 

"Not much of a tour when there's nothing to see," Shadow commented, though its tone suggested more curiosity than complaint. 

"It's not about what's here now," Jessie explained. "It's about potential. What will be here. The foundation we're laying for what comes next." 

Shadow's form rippled thoughtfully. "Potential. Another new concept. The Empty had none of that just eternal, unchanging void." It paused before one of the larger containment chambers. "I'm not sure whether to thank you or blame you for introducing such complications to non-existence." 

Jessie smiled. "How about we head back upstairs? There's more to see, and Ahti left refreshments in my office." 

"Refreshments," Shadow repeated the word as if it were entirely alien. "Another new concept to experience. Very well, Director Faden. Lead on." 

They returned to the elevator, ascending back to the Executive Sector. As they traveled upward, Jessie sensed the Oldest House's growing comfort with their visitor. The building's presence was expanding again, no longer hiding behind her but actively participating in showing itself off to the Shadow. 

"Your... house seems to be warming up to me," Shadow observed, apparently sensing the change as well. 

"She is," Jessie confirmed. 

The elevator doors opened directly into the Director's office a perk of Jessie's position that the building had implemented without being asked. Ahti was nowhere to be seen, but the refreshments he'd promised were laid out neatly on the desk—a pot of coffee, two cups, and a plate of what looked like simple butter cookies. 

"My office," Jessie explained unnecessarily, gesturing Shadow inside. "Or command center, I suppose. This is where I'll direct the Bureau's operations... eventually." 

Shadow flowed into the space, its darkness pooling and reforming as it examined the room—the large desk, the midcentury modern furniture, the panoramic window that showed the void. 

"Impressive" Shadow commented, gesturing towards everything in the room." 

Jessie moved to the desk and poured coffee into two cups and offered one of the coffee cups to Shadow, then hesitated, suddenly unsure. "I don't know if you... eat? Drink? Is that something you do?" 

Shadow's form rippled with what might have been amusement. "I've never had the opportunity to try. The Empty is rather lacking in refreshment options." It extended a portion of its darkness, forming something approximating a hand, and took the offered cup. "Let's experiment, shall we?" 

Jessie watched, fascinated, as Shadow brought the cup to the area of its form that approximated a head. A small opening appeared in its darkness not quite a mouth in any conventional sense, but a portal into its being. As it tilted the cup, the coffee poured into this opening, disappearing into Shadow's darkness. 

For a moment, nothing happened. Then Shadow's entire form rippled, tiny waves of darkness spreading outward from the point where the coffee had entered. 

Encouraged, Jessie offered the plate of cookies. Shadow took one, examining it curiously before pushing it into the same opening in its form. The cookie dissolved into its darkness, disappearing completely. 

"Do you like it?" Jessie asked, taking a sip of her own coffee. 

Shadow seemed to consider this. "Like. Another new concept. Is this sensation 'liking'?" It absorbed a third cookie, its darkness shifting subtly with each incorporation. "It's... not unpleasant. Different. Richer than the nothing I'm accustomed to." 

They continued their unusual coffee break, Shadow absorbing cookies and coffee while Jessie consumed hers in the conventional human manner. Through her connection with the Oldest House, Jessie could sense the building's growing fascination with their visitor 

"Your building is studying me," Shadow observed, its perception clearly extending beyond normal sensory limits. "Rather impolite, isn't it? Though I suppose I've been studying it as well, so we're even." 

"She's curious," Jessie explained. "We both are. You're the first... well, other thing we've encountered." 

"Does that bother you?" Jessie asked, sensing a shift in the entity's mood. 

"Change is... uncomfortable when one is accustomed to eternal sameness," Shadow admitted. "But perhaps not entirely unwelcome." It absorbed the last cookie "This has been... educational." 

"We should probably head back," Jessie suggested, finishing her coffee. "I don't want to keep you from your... well, whatever you were doing in the Empty." 

"Sleeping," Shadow replied simply. "The best thing to do." 

They returned to the elevator, descending back to the main lobby. 

The elevator ascended smoothly through the impossible spaces of the Oldest House, carrying Jessie and the Shadow back to the main lobby. They stood in companionable silence, the earlier tension replaced by something approaching mutual respect. 

"I suppose this concludes our tour," Jessie said as the elevator slowed. "Not much to see yet, but it's a work in progress." 

"Like everything else in this nascent reality," Shadow replied, its form rippling thoughtfully. "Though I must admit, it's more interesting than the uninterrupted nothingness I've grown accustomed to." 

The elevator doors opened to reveal the vast marble expanse of the main lobby. As they crossed toward the massive front entrance, Jessie felt the Oldest House's mood shift through their connection a melancholy reluctance tinged with something like fondness. 

"The building seems disappointed to see you go," Jessie observed, surprised by the intensity of the emotion flowing through their bond. 

Shadow's form contracted slightly in what might have been surprise. "Disappointed? How quickly sentiments develop when entities actually interact. We've known each other for all of an hour, measured in a time scale that doesn't technically exist yet." 

"I think it's less about how long and more about what it means," Jessie replied, placing her hand against the cool concrete wall. "You're the first visitor we've ever had. The first proof that we're not alone in... whatever this is." She gestured vaguely at reality around them. 

Through their connection, Jessie felt the Oldest House's agreement a warm pulse of acknowledgment that rippled through the structure. More than that, she sensed the building's growing attachment to the Shadow, this entity of liquid darkness who had interrupted their isolation with its sardonic observations and reluctant curiosity. 

"How sentimental for a building," Shadow commented, though its tone lacked its earlier sharpness. "Though I suppose when one gains sentience, emotions are part of the package deal. Another complication of existence." 

They reached the massive front doors, and Jessie sensed the Oldest House's hesitation. The building didn't want to open itself to the void again not because it feared what lay beyond, but because opening the door meant saying goodbye. 

With gentle encouragement from Jessie, the Oldest House finally complied. The massive concrete doors began to part with a low, resonant hum. Light from the lobby spilled out into the darkness beyond, illuminating the threshold between existence and non-existence. The void appeared different somehow less absolute, less empty. Subtle variations had begun to form in the nothingness, as if reality itself was beginning to take shape. 

Shadow moved toward the open doorway, pausing at the threshold. Its amorphous form seemed to hesitate, contracting and expanding slightly as if caught between opposing impulses. 

"Well, Director Faden," it said finally, turning back to face her. "This has been an... educational interruption to my eternal existential nothingness." 

Jessie smiled. "That's quite a compliment, coming from you." 

"Don't let it go to your head," Shadow replied, its tone lightening. "I'm still not entirely convinced that existence is superior to non-existence. The jury is out, as they say or would say, if juries existed yet." 

"Fair enough," Jessie nodded. "But maybe visit again sometime? Before the universe gets too crowded and noisy?" 

Through their connection, Jessie felt the Oldest House amplify this invitation a warm pulse of encouragement that radiated outward, enveloping Shadow's form briefly in what could only be described as an architectural embrace. 

Shadow's darkness rippled in what might have been surprise. "Your building is... hugging me. Metaphysically speaking." 

"She likes you," Jessie explained simply. "We both do. Despite your grumpy exterior." 

"Grumpy?" Shadow's form contracted indignantly. "I prefer to think of it as appropriately skeptical of this whole 'existence' experiment." 

"Call it what you want," Jessie laughed softly. "The invitation stands." 

Shadow's form shifted, becoming more defined for a moment almost humanoid in its clarity. "I... may take you up on that. If only to ensure you're not making too much noise in the neighborhood." 

With that, Shadow flowed backward across the threshold, its darkness beginning to merge with the void beyond. For a moment, it maintained its distinct form, a deeper shadow against the lessening darkness of the Empty. 

"Goodbye, Jessie Faden," it said, its voice already growing fainter as it rejoined the void. "Goodbye, Oldest House. Try not to remake reality too drastically while I'm gone." 

Then it was dissolving, its consciousness spreading outward into the Empty, becoming indistinguishable from the darkness around it. Within seconds, there was no sign that Shadow had ever been a distinct entity just the void, perhaps slightly less empty than before. 

Jessie felt the Oldest House's sadness through their connection—a gentle melancholy that permeated the structure. "I know," she murmured, stroking the concrete doorframe. "I'll miss it too." 

Despite the departure of their visitor, Jessie found herself reluctant to close the doors. She stood at the threshold, gazing out into the void, watching the subtle changes beginning to manifest in what had once been perfect nothingness. Variations in the darkness, hints of energy where there had been only absence. 

"Let's leave them open a while," she suggested to the Oldest House. "See what happens." 

The building's presence wrapped around her in agreement, curiosity overcoming its melancholy. Together, they watched the void, observing the birth of reality from the doorway of the first structure ever to exist. 

Minutes passed or what would have been minutes if time had fully formed yet. Jessie remained at the threshold, mesmerized by the subtle shifts in the darkness beyond. The Empty was empty no longer potential filled it now, possibility expanding outward from the Oldest House like ripples in a cosmic pond. 

Just as Jessie was about to turn away, to close the doors and return to the work of building the Bureau that would someday be, something changed in the void before her. Two presences manifested in the distance becoming distinct entities against the backdrop of the fading nothingness. 

One radiated light—pure, brilliant illumination that cast no shadows despite the darkness surrounding it. It took no definite shape at first, merely existing as a concentration of radiance that somehow conveyed consciousness, purpose, intent. 

The other was darkness, but different from Shadow—deeper, more absolute, more primal. Where Shadow had been liquid darkness with hints of personality and quirk, this was darkness in its most fundamental form—the absence of everything, the negation of being. 

"Holy shit," Jessie whispered, recognizing the entities forming before her eyes as the connection to Shadow and the 2 entities forming outside became clear, as a result she immediately shut the doors, so no more light escaped out.