On his way towards Level 11, Justin dragged his feet slightly on the dirt road of Level 10, progressing slowly. Perhaps, an hour ago, he would have been more upbeat, but as it had been quite a while of the same unpaved path he had lost his patience. He checked his watch: 10 o'clock. That made this particular time traveling down the path his longest to date — when he started, the watch read 6 o'clock.
In his time as Overseer-A of the M.E.G., he had been reasonably humble — it was quite the large organization but he wanted to be an approachable leader. One that people could be friendly with and such. Despite this goal, his number of friends was small.
After another few minutes of walking, his foot slipped right through the dirt, and he tumbled into the city. It was as though on the flip-side of the dirt path, the city was always there, only upside-down. The apparent pull of gravity flipped as soon as he was on the other side, so he landed on the tarmac. He was far from graceful.
It never did get any easier.
Waiting for him there was M.E.G. Base Omega — but before he began to make his way there, a man dressed in a dark purple blazer and a white shirt, with black trousers and brown hair, strode up to him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder.
"You're Overseer-A, aren't you?"
"What? Me?" How does he know that?
"Yes. Of the M.E.G., right?"
…No use denying it. "Guilty as charged. What's your business with me?"
"Call me Yellow. I'm C.E.O. of a fledgling technology business based right here on Level 11. We call ourselves Backrooms Robotics, and I think we ought to work with you folks at the M.E.G. — a little extra technology could go a long way for your operations, couldn't it?"
Well, Justin had, as of late, been on thin ice with his colleagues. Katherine, Overseer-B, was his sister. She was always the more mature one out of the family ever since the two were children. Overseer-C, their childhood friend Andrew, was similarly disposed; they got along well most of the time. None of the three teenagers were especially fit for running such a large organization, but Justin had been making more screw-ups recently than either of them. He wondered why his luck was just so bad, so unfortunate, so absolutely unfair that he kept being in just the wrong place at just the wrong time. As he was on such paper-thin ice with regards to his Overseer status, he thought going on this little diplomatic mission would be a great idea — imagine he made a deal with these folks, wouldn't that be fabulous? So he forgot all about going to Base Omega:
"Right, that's true! I'm sure you could be a good help…"
"I'm glad we're in agreement, then! Come with me."
Yellow definitely gave off the vibe of a businessman, and he acted like one too. He got straight to the point with him, and he travelled the same way; he spared no time sauntering off towards the Backrooms Robotics headquarters.
The headquarters were a standard building from the outside, not unlike the one used for Base Omega, save for a Backrooms Robotics logo adorning the space above the main doors — but it was painted and decorated according to the company brand on the inside. Justin wished the M.E.G. had better decorated their own bases, as they seemed plain in comparison to these vibrant purples, deep blacks and mustard yellows. Most of the paint had a matte finish which lended a very clean and modern look to the entire space.
After leading Justin deeper into the building, the two came to a room wherein a projector was humming, already having been prepared. Yellow stood confidently, and delivered his presentation:
Who are we?
- We’re the only tech company in the Backrooms!
- We serve customers with high quality products which make Backrooms life easier
- We work with the already-existing technology of the Backrooms, seamlessly integrating new experiences and products
Scroll down in this box to see all slides.
Justin was just barely carried through the entire presentation by Yellow’s charisma, as otherwise it was full of the sort of jargon that intimidated him and made him feel out of his depth. That was the desired effect.
“I suppose it’s Overseer credentials you’re after?”
“Precisely! What use would you three – and I assure you I mean nothing by this – serve vetoing technical suggestions?”
“Well… you have a good point, but we really are very careful with permissions in the M.E.G…”
“Right, well, try one now then: Justin, we’d like to alter the CPU clock speed on all of the office terminals in use in Base Omega so that they can work quicker, and replace the network cards with ones salvaged from more up-to-date machines from EL3A. Is that alright with you?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
…
“Right, you’ve got me there, we’d be no use. I guess you can have the credentials.”
Yellow was satisfied at this. After shaking hands, he left to his office, and so Justin was left to head back to base Omega on his own.
He seemed cool. It was fine. He knew it.