Employee of the Multiverse and His Darling Cat

1| Log 001 Pt. 1

//Log_001

One and a half years after landing in this strange world, I've suddenly decided to start a journal. My hope is that once I manage to return to my own world, this journal will serve as a compendium of data that can then be used to advance our society, technology, and administration. But mainly, I'm just bored.

Every day for the past year I've shuffled paper in the Records department. Monotonous is an understatement. Not to say my life didn't include some monotony as CEO, but that was of my own doing. I intentionally had no friends, lover, or hobbies because having one of the world's highest management positions required tremendous dedication. Here, I've made a friend and gained hobbies, but work is dull and I'm no closer to returning home. I'm wholeheartedly fed up.

At first, Records Assistant was an invaluable position. The reports and archives provided not only information about this organization and world, but insights into our entire universe that I'd only ever dreamed of knowing. But when it drags on for months, it loses its shine.

Don't get me wrong; it's an upgrade from shuffling mail and packages in the mailroom, my initial job in this organization. But I'm unhappy. I have a lot of complaints.

Let me provide more context so the reader can understand how truly ridiculous my situation is.

I should let the reader know that in my original world, I was a CEO in the world management realm. Those from dissimilar worlds may equate it to being a god from a pantheon in Heaven. Though such a title glorifies and romanticizes more than my position deserves. Fundamentally, I'm simply a civil servant.

The World Chaos Organization Institute (WCOI) was one of many institutions in the world management realm. Our realm's belief was that chaos is the substance or fabric that makes up the world and universe, keeps it going, and identifies each of its parts. WCOI's purpose was to research, codify, and repair.

Our knowledge of what we called "parallel timelines" was budding. Once we discovered the existence of these worlds that only slightly differed from our own, we theorized physical travel between them was possible and immediately set to work on developing a machine to do so.

I'm both proud and bitter to announce that our Timeline Travel Machine (which was reportedly in the process of upgrades) works, and that I, the CEO, am the first from our world to be transported. Albeit by accident.

Or perhaps it wasn't an accident but someone's successfully executed plan. Maybe I'll know by the time this journal is finished. But I'm curious to know what the reader thinks.

Allow me to start from the afternoon of the day I was transported.

I was due to have a meeting with the team in charge of the Timeline Travel Device (TTD), and left my office alone with enough time to arrive early. The elevator, however, was taking an oddly long time to arrive so I opted for the stairwell. My intolerance for wasting time while on the job is one of my few quirks.

After reaching the appropriate floor, I decided to stop by the restroom and check the mirror. A few flights of stairs wouldn't tire me out (I scheduled time for regular exercise, so I was quite fit), but it's not unusual for a fabric or hair to fall out of place with such activity. So, you see, observing my reflection isn't because I'm conceited, but as CEO I did have an image to uphold.

Anyway, as I left the restroom, my smartphone vibrated from my pocket and I paused to take a look. Just then, I overheard two employees in the midst of gossip from around the corner.

I caught the end of one saying, "...want to catch a glimpse of our CEO?"

I would have continued walking had they not mentioned seeing me. My mindset was that you can never be too cautious; it's important to assess each factor before making a move. After all, it could've been someone who was better off not seeing me. Or it could have delayed me making the meeting. So I waited to hear more.