Jo had barely shaken the beige dust of Holdspace from her hoodie before Jeff cleared his throat.

It wasn’t the nervous little throat clear he usually did before apologizing for not having stapled something correctly. This one was crisp. Decisive. Almost managerial.

“Per Section 13, Clause 9 of the Ritual Misrouting Charter,” Jeff announced, flipping through his clipboard with a flourish, “I am required to report a breach of containment. You, Jo, technically count as an escaped asset.”

Clorvex narrowed his eyes. “Asset? She’s not a stapler.”

Jeff ignored him. “Therefore, I am invoking…” He hesitated, then pointed dramatically at the glowing summoning circle. “The Pentagram Loop!”

The room went silent.

“Oh, tea leaves,” Mira muttered

Crackling with light, the circle flared blood orange as sigils spiraled out, wrapping around the café like chains. The cups rattled. The espresso machines whined like jet engines, even The Froth hissed and curled into a corner.

Matteo slammed his palms on the counter. “Jeff, are you out of your bureaucratic little mind? That’s a containment loop! You’ll shred the café!”

Jeff’s hands trembled, but his voice stayed steady. “I have quarterly performance goals and a manager who keeps saying I need to ‘lean in’ more. If I don’t prove myself, I’ll be demoted back to Infernal Call Routing!”

Swirling her radioactive drink, the Queen of the Hollow Moon perked up. “Oh, I love when interns snap. It’s like watching a baby bat try to overthrow an empire.”

The café shuddered as the Loop tightened. Outside, Cedar Grove’s sky glowed orange and streetlamps flickered Morse code warnings. 

The telegraph ghost Polly popped in through the espresso machine just to shout, “This is a terrible idea!”

Jo staggered upright. “Jeff. Buddy. Listen. You’re not evil, you’re just aggressively middle management.”

Jeff’s clipboard glowed with fangs of ink dripping from its edge. “That’s where the real power is.”

Clorvex snarled and flexed his claws. “I knew he was trouble the moment he alphabetized my blood contracts.”

“Alphabetizing is efficient!” Jeff snapped, then raised his pen like a wand. “Pentagram Loop. Phase Two. Audit!”

The ground cracked open and spewed molten paperwork. Forms rained from the ceiling. W-666s, Eternal Leave of Absence slips, and Acknowledgement of Doom receipts littered every table. Customers screamed as their lattes turned into compliance reports.

Jo grabbed her mop like a staff. “Everyone, new plan. Break the Loop before Jeff buries us in triplicate!”

Mira nodded, summoning a whirl of hibiscus steam. 

Matteo roared the espresso machine to life by steaming over the forms. 

Clorvex lunged, swiping through cascading contracts.

Jeff stood in the center, clipboard blazing, eyes wide with both terror and determination. “I don’t want to destroy you!” he shouted. “But if I don’t hit my targets I’ll never make Senior Intern!”

The blood orange glow intensified and the circle pulsed like a heartbeat.

The Loop was nearly closed.

Jo slammed her mop down. “Then we’ll just have to break your promotion review.”

The circle cracked and sparks shot across the café.

For the first time, Jeff smiled. “Good luck,” he whispered. “Phase Three is irreversible.”