POV: Time Variance Authority

Tap, tap, tap…

With those crisp footsteps, Miranda Harrington turned and left the conference room. Even her high heels seemed to press on everyone's lungs, like stepping on their ribs. Only when the elevator doors closed behind her did the roomful of colleagues let out a collective breath.

"Man, the look in Ms. Harrington's eyes just now—terrifying. Mr. Wilson, you're the only one who dares speak up like that."

"Yeah, Mr. Wilson, you really gave voice to all our thoughts. I still can't figure out why she'd just abandon that plan. If no other company has signed Professor West, we still have a chance, right?"

"What a shame… Rhine Cat is so adorable, too…"

Despondent, the managers filed out, heads bowed or shaking. Morale had visibly slumped.

***

Once the attendees dispersed, Elias gathered the Rhine Cat plushies from the table and returned them to his office, then made his way to the elevator for the 22nd floor. Ms. Harrington had summoned him, likely for something job-related.

The elevator slid quietly upward. Stopping at the floor's imposing double-door entry, he heard Miranda Harrington's weary voice over the intercom: "Come in."

A click signaled the heavy door unlocking. Elias stepped inside, shutting it behind him.

Her office was, as ever, eerily pristine. He felt a slight déjà vu, as though reliving the same scene on repeat—just like the loops in his dream. The immaculate couch and glass coffee table had collected a fine layer of dust, showing how seldom they saw use. Indeed, the only sign of life was her large desk, piled high with disorderly stacks of papers.

She was busy signing a set of documents. Elias approached the desk.

"You asked for me, Ms. Harrington?" he prompted politely.

Finishing a signature, Harrington set the pen down and looked up. She indicated a chair for him to sit.

"I've reviewed the 3D model you designed for Rhine Cat. It's technically fine, but the personality, voice lines, and catchphrases you've created are too… childish. Like a little picture book for kids."

Elias had half-expected this. Of course, the material he'd lifted from the dream—where "Rhine Cat" was featured in kids' comics—came across as childish in the real world.

"But I'm not saying childlike is basically bad," Harrington continued, leafing through more files. "We just aren't a toy company. Our goal is for Rhine Cat to promote Rhine Cosmetics. Our demographic is 18 to 28, so we need something vibrant and stylish, not too cutesy."

Elias nodded. "Understood."

She rummaged through a mound of paperwork. "I recall writing notes on your draft… Marked them with 'D'—"

Suddenly, an adjacent stack toppled onto the floor, scattering across the polished hardwood.

"Oops," Miranda grunted, pausing to rub her forehead. Elias knelt to retrieve the scattered sheets, tidying them into a neat pile.

It was then that Elias spotted a familiar red wax seal among the sheets: a small, disk-like piece with a rough shape. His heart kicked up a notch; he recognized it instantly. Without letting his expression change, he slipped it into his left hand. He calmly continued gathering the remaining papers, placing them on her desk.

"I'm sorry," Harrington said with a frustrated sigh. "My workspace is a mess, and I haven't sorted it properly."

Elias shrugged. "Why not hire a secretary to do this kind of thing?"

She flipped her hair back, an ironic glint in her eyes. "No need. I can handle it."

Finally, she located a marked-up version of his design proposals and passed it to him. "Here—my annotations on your script and notes for personality. Read them carefully and revise."

He accepted the thick bundle with a quick "Understood."

Outside, the double-layer door closed with a heavy thud. Elias paused in the corridor, reflecting on how Ms. Harrington's world stood apart from his. Now, though, he might have glimpsed something hidden behind that severe barrier.

He slipped his hand into his pants pocket, feeling the round wax object he'd just 'stolen.' Even in the dream world, "steal" came naturally to him, but here in reality it felt distinctly more tense—and potentially far more consequential.

As soon as he got back to his own office, Elias locked the door behind him and exhaled deeply. "First time I've stolen something in real life—," he muttered. "This is new…"

He withdrew the object from his pocket: a flattened sphere of red sealing wax, about the size of a large coin, though thicker and irregular. He recognized it instantly from the day he first saw Harrington's secret letter referencing the TVA. The wax was used to seal the folded edge of that ominous invitation.

He let it roll between his thumb and index finger. These lumps were called sealing wax, typically made with resin and coloring, melted to close letters with an embossed stamp. The face pressed against the paper was smooth—so the other side should bear the imprint.

His heartbeat quickened. He remembered Claw's stories of a shadowy group that murdered geniuses who threatened them, and all the talk about "TVA invitation." He recalled the three large gold letters on the back of the envelope. Possibly that side of the wax carried the group's insignia.

He gritted his teeth, bracing himself for whatever "dark forest" he might be stepping into. Then, summoning a burst of courage, he flipped the wax chunk over.

The front displayed a perfect, circular stamping. In the center stood a right hand pointing its index finger straight up toward the sky, while around the lower arc were neatly engraved letters in bold:

TVA.