"We are severed not just from our outside lives," Burt said, his voice barely audible over the HVAC system. "We are severed from the truth of what we do. They use these paintings to keep us from walking across the hall to say hello. Fear is the most efficient floor plan."
Burt reached out, his hand hovering near Irving’s. For a moment, the barbarity of the office faded. There were no departments, no refinements, and no corporate legends—only two men, standing in a hallway, choosing to see each other despite the dark.
Irving leaned in. The victims in the painting didn't look angry or even afraid. They looked confused, their eyes darting toward the exits as if they’d forgotten how to open a door. The Grim Barbarity of Optics and DesignSeveranc...
Suddenly, the elevator hummed in the distance—the sound of an "Outie" leaving, a consciousness being switched like a light bulb.
"They tell us you butchered us," Irving said, gesturing to the carnage on the canvas. "And they tell you we butchered you ." "We are severed not just from our outside
He stopped before the painting. The canvas was dark, its edges bleeding into the shadows of the hallway. It showed O&D workers, their faces obscured by the glare of glowing ID cards that looked like handheld miniature suns. They were tearing through MDR, not with swords, but with drafting compasses and T-squares. "It’s just a mediation," a voice whispered behind him.
Irving walked the narrow corridors of Lumon, his fingers tracing the cold, eggshell-white walls. In his hand, he clutched a map—not a physical one, but a map of memories he wasn't supposed to have. As an "Innie," his world was only this: the green carpet, the humming servers, and the occasional, terrifying glance at the O&D department's "art." Fear is the most efficient floor plan
This is a short story inspired by that chilling piece of art.