Portal Express

Leo stared at the notification on his smartphone, the word "citizenship" pulsing with a sinister purple glow. He laughed. A hollow, hysterical laugh that echoed in his small office. First, a dragon. Then, a corporate rival. Now, the Underworld's immigration department. His life had stopped being a circus and had become a poorly written, cosmic comedy of errors. He used to think his biggest worries were credit debt and overdue rent. How naive.

"No," he said to the empty room. "Absolutely not."

He tried to close the notification. It wouldn't close. He tried to delete the message. The delete button was greyed out. Instead, a new window opened: a calendar, with a single flashing entry taking up the entire screen.

PRELIMINARY CITIZENSHIP INTERVIEW

Applicant: Leo

Case Officer: Hypnos, Soul Analysis Division

Time: Immediately

Before Leo could process it, his smartphone began to ring. It wasn't his normal ringtone. It was a slow, sleepy sound, like wind chimes playing underwater, a melody that seemed to suck the energy from the air. The caller ID showed only one symbol: a slowly turning hourglass.

Panic seized him. He couldn't answer. Not here. Kael could be lurking. He needed his hideout.

Grabbing the [Underworld Guest Room Key], he focused on the idea of safety, of a place where no one could find him. The dark iron key grew warm in his hand and began to pull him gently. Not toward the storage room door, but toward the door of his own utility closet, a cubicle where he kept cleaning supplies and useless junk.

Hesitantly, he opened the closet door. Instead of mops and buckets, he saw a hotel room.

It was impeccably clean but completely devoid of personality. The walls were a neutral grey. The bed was made with military precision. There was a desk, a chair, and a lamp. There were no windows. The air was still and silent, a silence so profound it made his ears ring. It was safe, but also deeply unsettling, like being inside a vault at the bottom of the ocean.

He stepped inside and closed the door. The sound of his office vanished. He was completely isolated.

His smartphone was still playing the sleepy melody. Taking a deep breath, he answered.

"Hello?"

A drawling, incredibly tired voice answered from the other end, punctuated by a long, deep yawn. "Yeah, uh... this is Hypnos, from the Soul Analysis Division. I'm calling about your... uh... automatic citizenship application. Applicant... Leo. Is that you?"

"Look, there's been a mistake," Leo said quickly. "I didn't apply for anything. I'm a delivery guy."

Another yawn. "Yeah, it's all here in form 37-B, paragraph 4, 'Artifact Acquisition Clause.' Possession of multiple items of Underworld sovereignty, like a Charon's Obol and a Sanctuary Key, triggers a status review. We can't have... uh... unaffiliated entities walking around with government property. It's a... paperwork thing."

"But I don't want to be a citizen!" Leo protested. "You can have the stuff back!"

"That would require filing the Artifact Relinquishment Form, 88-C, which can only be submitted by a legal resident," Hypnos said, his voice fading as if he were falling asleep. "Let's... uh... get to the questions. Full name?"

"Leo."

"Just Leo? No last name? That's going to be a problem in the system... I'll just put 'N/A'. Any affiliations with celestial, divine, or holy light organizations?"

"No!"

"Hmm. What about demonic pacts, devil contracts, or subscriptions to infernal newsletters?"

"What? No!"

"Okay... Purpose of visit to the domains of the Underworld?"

"It was a delivery! I work for 'Portal Express'!"

Hypnos paused. Leo heard the sound of slow, deliberate typing. "Portal Express... Ah. A start-up. Unlicensed. Operates in a legal grey area. I see." He yawned again, the sound making Leo's eyes water with sympathetic sleepiness. "Look, Leo-N/A. Your situation is... irregular. You're not a lost spirit, you're not a demon, you're not a contracted soul. You're a... logistical problem. For now, your application is pending."

"Pending? What does that mean?"

"It means you're under observation. We're granting you a Provisional 'Resident-in-Training' Visa. This gives you limited access to certain non-mortal zones and protects you from being harvested as a stray soul. However, it also subjects you to Underworld regulations and taxes. Congratulations."

"Taxes?!" Leo yelled.

"All Karma Point earnings are now subject to a 15% animus tax. Failure to comply will result in... uh... penalties. Unpleasant things. Read the agreement."

Before Leo could protest further, the call ended. His smartphone buzzed, not with an order, but with a download. A document appeared on his screen.

Underworld Provisional Visa and Courier Conduct Agreement - Form 37-B

It was a dense legal document, hundreds of pages long. Leo started scrolling. It seemed endless. Clauses about "accidental haunting liability," "mortal snack import regulations," and "non-ectoplasmic vehicle parking fees." At the very bottom, a flashing button: [I HAVE READ AND AGREE TO THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS].

Leo looked at the grey walls of his safe room. He had escaped Kael, only to be trapped in a bureaucratic nightmare that threatened to tax his very soul. He didn't know which was worse.