Part 1: Welcome to Arkana
Arkana Academy of Applied Thaumaturgy was the kind of school that appeared once every few centuries, usually behind a waterfall, under a moonless sky, or when someone sneezed too hard while holding a forbidden scroll.
It had towers that reached into the clouds, talking staircases that gave unsolicited life advice, and a policy of "Don't ask questions unless you're ready to lose an eyebrow."
To Talia Emberwick, it was perfect.
Her whole life, she'd dreamed of this—becoming a student of magic, escaping her mundane little town of Greenthistle Hollow, and proving to the world that she was destined for greatness. Maybe she'd unlock some ancient spell, tame a thunder dragon, or at least summon a magical creature that didn't explode upon arrival.
Today was her first day.
And nothing—nothing—was going to ruin it.
Ten minutes later.
"Oh no. Oh no no no—WHAT IS THAT?!"
Talia sprinted down the East Hallway of Dormitory Wing C, backpack swinging violently, curls flying, robes half-buttoned and completely disheveled. Behind her echoed the sound of something very wet and very angry slapping against the marble floor.
She turned a corner and nearly crashed into a third-year student levitating his coffee mug.
"RUN!" she screamed. "There's something in the bathroom!"
The upperclassman raised an eyebrow. "...Again?"
Rewind fifteen minutes.
Talia had arrived early. She was determined to make a good first impression. She wore the proper academy robes (slightly oversized), pinned her prefect badge on the wrong side (she wasn't a prefect), and carried a brand-new wand that still had the price tag dangling.
She had one goal: survive her first day without looking like a complete idiot.
That goal lasted until she opened the boys' bathroom by mistake and was immediately greeted by a tentacle made of sewage and spite.
"YOU HAVE TRESPASSED INTO THE DOMAIN OF THE UNFLUSHED!" it roared, rising from the toilet like a vengeance spirit.
Talia screamed, flung her backpack at it, and ran like her life depended on it—which, in fairness, it absolutely did.
Now she was hiding behind a statue of "Sir Buffalor the Flatulent" in the main hall, trying to catch her breath and regretting every decision that led her here.
The monster was still coming. Slime dripped down the hall like sentient garbage.
And then… silence.
Drip.
Drip.
Squish.
Talia peeked around the statue.
A man was standing in the hallway.
No, not a man. A janitor.
Grey uniform. Scuffed boots. Bored expression. One hand held a mop, the other rested in his pocket like he had all the time in the world.
"'Scuse me," he muttered, stepping forward.
The tentacle whipped toward him.
The janitor didn't flinch.
He raised his mop.
And poked it—lightly—into the thing's eye.
The monster screeched. The sound shattered a stained-glass window nearby. It convulsed, twisted, hissed like boiling soup.
Then it evaporated.
Just… poof. Gone. Leaving only a faint smell of bleach and regret.
Talia's jaw dropped.
The janitor looked at the mess, sighed, and pulled out a small tin of what looked like enchanted cleaning powder. With a casual flick, he sprinkled it over the puddles, which instantly scrubbed themselves.
He turned. Their eyes met.
Talia stood up straight.
The janitor blinked.
"You saw that, huh."
"I—what—how did—WHAT WAS THAT THING?!"
He stared at her like someone who'd just been asked why chairs existed.
"Bathroom anomaly. Happens when someone tries to summon snacks into the toilet. Usually second-years."
"That's… that's not normal!"
He shrugged. "It is after the third time."
"Who are you?!"
The janitor tapped his badge.
Facility Custodian, Level ∞Designation: Mop.
"Mop," she repeated.
He nodded.
"That's your name?"
He nodded again.
Talia's eye twitched. "Wait, is that a rank? Or—?"
"Name. Job. Destiny. Depends on who's asking."
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
But Mop was already whistling and walking away, mop dragging behind him like a lazy sword.
Talia stared after him.
She had questions.
So many questions.
But one burned the brightest:
Why was the janitor more terrifying than the monster?
Part 2: The Girl Who Asked Too Many Questions
Talia Emberwick was many things: curious, ambitious, slightly allergic to mint, and tragically unable to leave well enough alone.
Some students, after witnessing a janitor defeat a sludge tentacle with a mop and zero effort, might have done the sensible thing—put their heads down and avoided eye contact for the rest of their magical education.
Talia was not some students.
She had questions.
So. Many. Questions.
And only one man had the answers.
Unfortunately, that man had the social skills of a wet rock and the evasiveness of a greased ferret.
Day 1, After Class
"His name is Mop?"
Talia sat across from a fellow first-year, a spindly boy named Felix who smelled faintly of lavender and fear.
"Yeah," she whispered. "No surname. No first name. Just 'Mop.'"
Felix blinked. "Are you sure it's not a title?"
"I asked. He shrugged. Which I think means yes. Or no. Or that I should go away."
Felix adjusted his glasses nervously. "I've heard rumors. Some say he's a retired battle mage. Others say he's not even human."
Talia leaned forward. "What do you think?"
"I think…" Felix hesitated. "...we should not be talking about the janitor in the middle of the mess hall while the portraits are listening."
She glanced at the enchanted painting above them, which was of a heavily armored owl sipping tea. The owl stared back. Judgmentally.
"Fine," she grumbled. "But I'm not dropping this."
Day 2, Morning
Plan A: Ask Mop politely.
"Excuse me, Mr. Mop?"
He walked past her like a breeze with boots.
"Uh—do you have a moment—"
He entered a broom closet and closed the door. There was no sound. Talia opened it two seconds later.
The closet was empty.
Day 2, Afternoon
Plan B: Ambush him with snacks.
She waited near the janitor's supply room holding a warm cinnamon bun she'd enchanted with a mild enticing aroma spell.
Mop passed her.
Sniffed.
Stopped.
Talia's eyes lit up.
He reached out…
Took the bun.
Ate it.
And kept walking.
"HEY—!"
Day 3, Library
Plan C: Find written records.
Arkana's Grand Library was the size of a small city. It had books on everything—runes, beasts, curses, failed cafeteria recipes.
She snuck into the restricted archives under the pretense of doing a "report on sanitation charms."
Twenty minutes in, she found exactly three mentions of "Facility Custodian, Level ∞."
All were redacted.
Every single one.
One entry simply read:
"In 862 AE, during the Chimera Plague Incident, the Custodian neutralized the anomaly. All documentation was incinerated afterward. Including the building."
Another just said:
"Do not give him vacation time. The moon turned inside out last time."
Talia stared at the parchment.
"What are you, Mop?"
That Night
Talia wandered back toward Dorm C, her head swirling with theories. Maybe he was a battle mage. Or maybe—wait. What if he was cursed? Or immortal? Or some kind of god in disguise?
She turned the corner and stopped.
There, standing in front of the same bathroom from two days ago, was another student.
He was mumbling something. Chanting.
Talia squinted.
He held a peanut-butter sandwich in one hand and a wand in the other.
"Oh no," she whispered. "Not again."
The bathroom door rumbled.
Green light poured from the keyhole.
The walls began to sweat.
"HEY!" she shouted, running forward. "What are you doing?!"
The student jumped. "Wh-what? It's just a snack summoning! I was trying to get a grilled cheese!"
"In the toilet?!"
"I didn't want crumbs in my bed!"
"You summoned a sewer monster!"
Suddenly, the floor cracked beneath them.
A glowing sigil appeared under the student's feet. He yelped and tried to jump back—but too late.
The air thickened.
A deep, burbling growl echoed through the hallway.
Talia shoved the student aside—and nearly lost her balance as the sigil exploded upward in a fountain of magical sludge.
A massive, three-eyed creature emerged. It looked like a jellyfish had merged with an angry cactus and then rolled in garbage.
"YOU DARE SUMMON ME AGAIN?!" it bellowed. "I AM THE FLUSHER OF FATES!"
Talia backed up, wand shaking.
"Um. No? We didn't summon you? Wrong number?"
The monster shrieked.
She closed her eyes.
This is it, she thought. Death by toilet deity.
Then—
FWAP.
The monster stopped.
Talia opened one eye.
Mop stood behind the creature, mop in hand, eyes half-lidded in pure "not this again" energy.
The monster turned. "YOU—"
FWAP.
Mop smacked it in the face again.
The monster gurgled.
Mop held up a spray bottle.
"Cleansing mist," he muttered.
PSSSSSSSSSSHHHH.
The creature melted into foam.
Talia stood frozen.
Mop turned, brushing slime off his shoulder.
"You really do ask too many questions," he said.
And walked away.
Talia was still standing there, dripping with goo, when the hall monitors showed up.
"…Hi," she said. "There was a sandwich incident."
Part 3: The Clean Sweep Conspiracy
Talia was not the type to let things go.
Some people would've taken the bathroom incident as a warning. Some would've avoided janitors, toilets, and summoning circles for the rest of the year.
Talia took it as a personal challenge.
"The janitor just erased a monster from existence again!" she told Felix the next morning. "He didn't even chant a spell! Just—spray spray, mop mop, bye-bye horror from the void!"
Felix blinked. "And you… followed him?"
"Well, no. He disappears like he's allergic to being followed."
"Then maybe stop trying?"
Talia frowned. "Felix, do you know what 'character growth' is?"
"...Yes?"
"Good. I don't want any. I want answers."
She started tailing Mop.
This was not easy.
He was slippery.
She once watched him mop an entire hallway while simultaneously appearing across campus scrubbing a gargoyle's teeth. She left him tea outside the janitor's closet; it was gone in ten seconds. She knocked; he didn't answer.
She even tried hiding inside a trash bin.
That got her detention from a confused raccoon-shaped golem named Jeff.
But then—she got lucky.
The Library. Midnight.
Students weren't supposed to be there past 10.
Talia wasn't supposed to be in the restricted section at all.
But "supposed to" was for cowards.
She'd found a trail. Strange magical residue. A faint scent of pine cleaner. A glow that flickered like candlelight through ancient bookshelves.
She followed it.
And then—there he was.
Mop.
Standing before a locked vault labeled:
"ARCHIVED ENTITIES – DO NOT CLEAN"
He looked at it. Sighed.
Then lifted his mop.
It glowed.
Not softly. Brilliantly. Runes erupted from its wooden shaft, swirling into the air like fireflies possessed.
Talia nearly sneezed from shock.
Mop paused.
She ducked behind a shelf of "Cursed Beverages Through History."
Silence.
Then: click.
He opened the vault.
Slipped inside.
And vanished.
The door closed.
Talia's heart pounded. She tiptoed closer.
The vault shimmered. The glow from his mop lingered faintly on the air like a trail of breadcrumbs.
She reached out—hesitated.
Then pressed her palm to the door.
Nothing.
She groaned.
"Of course. Magic janitor vault has magic janitor locks."
Then she noticed it—scratched into the wood beside the vault:
"Don't follow unless you can handle weird."
She grinned.
"Oh, I was born for weird."
Next Day – Headmistress' Office
Headmistress Durnstone was a large woman with hair like steel wool and an expression that suggested she had once stared down a wyvern and made it apologize.
She eyed Talia over her desk.
"You broke into the restricted archives. Again."
"I prefer the term 'explored.'"
"You were nearly consumed by a file labeled 'DO NOT READ ALOUD.'"
"It tried to flirt with me. That's not my fault."
Durnstone pinched her brow. "Miss Emberwick. May I ask why you are so obsessed with our janitor?"
"Because he's not just a janitor!" Talia blurted. "He fought a bathroom demon with a mop! He sneaks into forbidden vaults! He doesn't have a last name!"
"And this concerns you because…?"
"Because something weird is going on at this school! And he's in the middle of it! I know it!"
Durnstone leaned back.
She was quiet for a long time.
Then she said, "Mop has been at Arkana longer than I have. Longer than this building has. He keeps to himself, does his job, and somehow prevents magical catastrophes before they begin. And if he wants to do that in silence, we let him."
Talia frowned. "But don't you want to know more?"
Durnstone's eyes twinkled just a little. "I already know enough to be grateful."
That night, Talia sat on her bed, staring at her notebook. It was filled with scrawled diagrams, event timelines, sketches of Mop (bad ones), and bold underlined phrases like:
MOP = GOD?
THE MOP IS SENTIENT??
IS HE THE CHOSEN CLEANER??
She sighed.
Was she imagining it all?
Was she just projecting because she didn't have any friends, and Mop was the only person who ever looked at her like she wasn't a total mess?
Then…
Something scratched at her door.
She jumped.
A note slid under it.
No name. Just a scrap of parchment.
She picked it up and read:
"Midnight. Boiler Room. Come alone. Bring gloves."
Talia's eyes widened.
She grabbed her wand.
And her gloves.
Chapter 1 – Part 4: Secrets Beneath the Sink
Midnight. Boiler Room.
It smelled like copper, steam, and a little bit like regret.
Talia crept down the stairs, gloved hands shaking slightly—not from fear, but from anticipation. Her wand was tucked behind one ear. Her notebook was in her satchel, ready to record whatever mysterious janitorial conspiracy she was about to uncover.
The door creaked as she opened it.
The boiler room was vast. Pipes twisted like metal serpents along the ceiling. Valves hissed. Shadows danced between old crates and broken broomsticks.
And there he was.
Mop.
Leaning against the central boiler.
Drinking tea from a chipped mug that said: "World's Okayest Employee."
Talia froze.
He didn't look surprised.
He never looked surprised.
He just gestured.
"Close the door. Quietly."
She obeyed.
He sipped his tea.
"Thought you'd be later."
"You invited me?"
"No. But you can't take a hint, so figured I'd save you the trouble."
Talia opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
"I—what is going on with you?! You teleport! You clean up demons! You carry a mop that hums like a battle hymn! Who are you?"
He looked at her.
And, for once, really looked at her.
Then he reached into his coat and tossed something her way.
Talia caught it.
It was… a key.
Old. Brass. Warm to the touch.
"What is this?" she asked.
"The back door," he said. "To a part of the school most people don't see."
She stared at it. "You're giving this to me? Why?"
Mop sipped his tea.
"Because something's coming," he said. "And you're the only one nosy enough to notice."
He stood, mop resting on his shoulder like a knight's lance.
"The school has secrets," he added. "Old ones. Buried deep. Things the staff don't talk about. Things that leak through cracks, like mold."
He passed her.
"Consider this your internship."
Talia blinked. "Internship?! What does that even mean?!"
He stopped at the door.
"Shift starts tomorrow at 5 AM. Wear boots."
Then he was gone.
The Next Morning. 5:00 AM Sharp.
Talia stood outside the janitor's closet.
She wore boots.
And gloves.
And several layers of anticipation.
The door opened on its own.
She stepped inside.
It looked like a supply room.
Buckets. Cleaning potions. A suspiciously glowing sponge labeled "DO NOT FEED."
Then the floor lowered.
Literally.
Like an elevator.
Talia yelped as the entire room sank down, rumbling deep beneath the school.
The closet descended into darkness… then light.
A second janitor's closet.
But ten times larger.
With maps. Portals. Weaponized brushes. Filing cabinets labeled "SARCOPHAGUS (USED)" and "STUDENTS WHO SUMMONED STUFF THEY SHOULDN'T HAVE."
And in the center: Mop, wearing protective goggles and adjusting a massive chalkboard filled with diagrams and magical blueprints.
Talia's jaw dropped.
"This isn't a janitor's office," she whispered.
Mop turned.
"No," he said. "It's the first line of defense."
Part 5: Welcome to Custodial Division Zero
Talia had seen many strange things in her time at Arkana Academy.
A student accidentally turned into a pastry? Normal.A history teacher who spoke only in riddles? Expected.A broom that applied to be Student Council President? Voted third.
But this?
This was next level.
The room—no, the facility—beneath the janitor's closet looked like the secret headquarters of an elite covert ops team. Magical cleaning devices hung on walls like enchanted weaponry. Crates glowed faintly with containment runes. A mechanical mop skittered past her like a spider with attitude.
Above all of it, a glowing sigil hovered in the air:
"Custodial Division Zero – We Clean What Shouldn't Exist."
Talia pointed at it. "...That's a terrible motto."
Mop didn't look up from where he was polishing what looked suspiciously like an exorcism vacuum.
"We had a vote. This one beat 'Suck It, Eldritch Goo.'"
"I actually prefer that one."
"You would."
He led her to a large map of the school.
It was… wrong.
Not in a "misspelled names" way. In a "why are there twelve sub-basements and one of them is shaped like a screaming skull" kind of way.
"What you see on the surface," Mop said, "is just the top layer. Arkana's been built, rebuilt, and magically re-folded more times than I can count."
He pointed at a blinking red dot labeled "CURRENT LEAK."
"Reality doesn't always stay where it's supposed to. Magic bleeds. Doors open to where they shouldn't. And occasionally, some overenthusiastic freshman summons a gelatinous horror because he skipped the safety briefing."
Talia blinked. "That happened last week."
"Yes. I mopped him out of the walls."
They walked past a vault door labeled "THING THAT WINKED AT ME."
Talia turned. "So what is this place really? A secret dungeon under a school for weird magical containment?"
"Not under the school," Mop corrected. "Beside it. Between layers."
"…What."
"This facility exists in what's called the Janitorial Interstice."
He tapped the wall. It shimmered.
"Imagine reality like a big sandwich. Most people live in the bread. We operate in the cheese."
"That's horrifying."
"I like cheese."
They passed a locker labeled "Emergency Dimension Mop," a tank full of gremlins doing synchronized swimming, and a door that refused to open unless you complimented it.
("You're the most handsome door I've ever seen," Talia said. The door blushed and let them through.)
Finally, they reached a chalkboard covered in what looked like magical crime scene sketches.
"This," Mop said, "is our latest problem."
He pointed to a symbol.
It pulsed on the board—dark red, like a vein full of bad ideas.
Talia stared. "That looks like…"
"A seal," Mop said grimly. "One of seven."
"Seal of what?"
"Something very old. Very cranky. Sealed beneath the school generations ago by the original janitor."
Talia squinted. "Wait. The original janitor?"
"Yes."
"Was he—?"
"A warlock, yes. But his true title was Custodian Prime."
"…Okay, that's kinda awesome."
"It was embroidered on his cape."
Mop turned serious.
"The seal is weakening. That red pulse means someone's trying to break it. Maybe a student. Maybe something older."
Talia tilted her head. "So… we stop them, right? Call in backup? Staff meeting? Maybe an interdimensional task force?"
Mop shook his head. "We don't want to cause panic. Yet."
He looked at her.
"Which is why I need you. You're curious. Reckless. Too stubborn to quit."
Talia frowned. "You just listed those like compliments."
"They are."
"…Oh. Cool."
Suddenly, the magical intercom crackled:
"⚠️ Containment breach in Hallway C. Repeat: hostile spill detected. Activate foam unit #7."
Mop groaned.
"That'll be Steve."
"Who's Steve?"
"You'll see."
Hallway C – Moments Later
It looked like soup. If soup had teeth and glowed ominously.
The ooze snarled. Students screamed. One screamed in Latin for no reason.
And then—WHOOSH.
A geyser of foam erupted from nowhere, slamming the monster into a locker.
Mop appeared, wielding his mop like a blade. Each strike sent out magical waves, banishing chunks of the ooze into glowing runes.
Talia stared. "Okay, that's way cooler than anything in Defense class."
Mop didn't answer. He was too busy drop-kicking a tentacle.
Talia saw something—a student trapped in the goo, panicking.
She ran forward, chanted a cleaning incantation (poorly), and managed to loosen the slime enough to yank the kid free.
Mop raised an eyebrow.
"Not bad."
"I panicked."
"You did it right."
Talia beamed.
Then slipped and landed in the foam.
Back at HQ
Talia sat wrapped in a towel, sipping cocoa.
"So this is my life now, huh? Secret janitor agent?"
Mop nodded. "We're understaffed."
"Do I get a codename?"
"No."
"Please?"
"...Fine. You're Intern Mopette."
"…I'll allow it."
Part 6: Detention Dimension Derby
The Next Day. 3:00 PM.
Talia sat in her third detention this week, arms crossed, glaring at the wall like it owed her money.
"Unlicensed spellcasting in the library," the proctor had said. "Illegal foam use. Unauthorized deployment of a cursed sponge."
She tried explaining it was for janitorial purposes.
Apparently, that wasn't a recognized defense in the school code.
Mop, of course, was nowhere to be found.
Until he was.
With zero noise or warning, the janitor appeared beside her desk in detention, sipping from a thermos labeled "Cleansing Brew – May Contain Cinnamon & Vengeance."
"You're late," Talia muttered.
"You're in detention."
"I saved a kid from goo!"
"You also triggered three hallway alarms and insulted a hallway spirit."
"She called me crusty!"
"She's five hundred years old and half tile. You need manners."
He handed her a small envelope.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Field trip."
"…To where?"
"The Detention Dimension."
She stared. "That's not real."
Mop looked at her. "You're in a school that keeps its principal in a teapot on weekends. Of course it's real."
He pulled a rag from his pocket, tossed it in the air, and it expanded into a glowing door.
Students in detention screamed.
One fainted into their own backpack.
Mop looked at her. "Ready?"
"No!"
"Great."
And with a slurp of magical force, they stepped through.
Elsewhere – The Detention Dimension
It was… a racetrack.
Floating in the void.
Lined with desks.
Hover-desks.
Each hovered precariously above nothingness, bolted with enchanted duct tape and ruled paper.
A booming voice echoed:
"WELCOME TO THE DETENTION DIMENSION DERBY!"
Talia blinked. "...Did I just step into a magical Mario Kart nightmare?"
A nearby racer cackled.
He had a mohawk, four arms, and rode a flaming desk chair.
"Don't let the syllabus hit you on the way down!" he shrieked before speeding off.
Mop handed Talia a helmet.
"Safety first."
"Are you serious?"
"You've been assigned to cleanup duty for a race dispute. It's traditional to compete before you clean."
"I don't even have a license!"
"Perfect. No bad habits."
Moments later, Talia sat astride a souped-up desk with spell runes glowing along its sides. Her wand acted as the gearstick. Her mop helmet smelled faintly of lemon and fear.
Next to her, Mop sat calmly on a floating janitor's cart. It hummed like an angry beehive.
A goblin with a referee whistle screamed:
"ON YOUR MARKS. GET SET. FILTH!"
They launched forward.
The Derby Begins
Talia barely held on.
Desks zipped past fire traps, paper tornadoes, and angry grammar spirits. One racer exploded into glitter after failing a surprise quiz midair.
"This is illegal!" Talia screamed.
"This is tradition!" Mop yelled back, expertly drifting around a time loop.
Suddenly, a shadow loomed.
A massive desk-zeppelin descended. Its captain, an ancient detention warlock, pointed a crooked finger.
"INTRUDERS!"
Mop didn't even blink.
He hit a lever.
His janitor cart ejected a mop missile.
The zeppelin exploded into cursive smoke.
Talia blinked. "Was that… overkill?"
"No. That was polite."
Final Lap
Talia was in third.
The lead racer, a smug-looking elf girl riding a gilded antique desk, sneered at her.
"You don't belong here, freshman."
Talia narrowed her eyes.
She whispered something to her wand.
Suddenly, her desk released a puff of citrus-smelling mist and surged forward.
"Wait, did you just—"
"Cast Turbo Cleanse. Homebrew spell. Don't tell the teachers."
She soared forward, overtook the elf, and crossed the finish line just behind Mop, who hadn't even broken a sweat.
The crowd roared.
(Or at least booed slightly less than usual.)
After the Race
They landed in a quiet corner of the Detention Dimension, where ancient paperwork danced in circles and a vending machine growled when you looked at it funny.
Talia slumped on the floor, panting.
"I… hate… magical racetracks."
Mop handed her a bottle of enchanted electrolyte water. It sparkled with suspicious colors.
"Get used to it. Detention leaks are increasing. Last week someone found a pop quiz from 1964 possessing students."
Talia blinked. "I thought the history club was acting weird."
He nodded. "They tried to write the Treaty of Versailles in potions class."
Then, he grew serious.
"There's a reason I brought you here."
He pointed toward a dark wall covered in chalk.
Something pulsed behind it.
A sigil.
Faint, but familiar.
Talia frowned. "That's… the same symbol as the seal from earlier."
Mop nodded. "We found another."
Her voice dropped. "Another seal's weakening?"
"Yes. This one's tied to a detention spirit called the Dean of Shadows."
"Okay, that sounds like a villain in a student council anime."
"She used to be the student council. All of it. Simultaneously."
"…I hate this school."
"Good. That means you understand it."
Back at Arkana
They stepped through the rag-door back into the janitor's closet.
Talia looked at Mop.
"So. What now?"
He shrugged. "You've completed your first interdimensional mission. Enjoy your reward."
He tossed her a laminated card.
"Custodial Division Zero – Junior Trainee (Probationary – Slightly Suspicious)"
She stared. "This… is the dumbest thing I've ever earned."
"You're welcome."
She smiled.
And slipped it into her wallet.
Part 7: The Curious Case of the Cursed Cafeteria
Tuesday – Lunchtime.
The cafeteria was unusually quiet.
No magical food fights.No enchanted meatloaf breakdancing.No poltergeist launching mashed potatoes across dimensions.
Just… silence.
Which, at Arkana Academy, was terrifying.
Talia poked her lasagna.
It blinked at her.
"...Mop," she whispered, "I think my lunch is possessed."
He stared at her plate. "That's not possession."
The lasagna twitched.
"That's haunting. Different tax bracket."
Moments later, all food trays in the cafeteria rose into the air.
Then they screamed.
The trays.The trays screamed.
Students ran. Some screamed in Latin again. One screamed in binary.
A giant spectral spaghetti arm lashed out from the lunch counter.
Talia ducked behind a table. "Why is it always goo or pasta?!"
Mop spun his mop like a blade. "Cafeteria ghosts are unpredictable. Especially on Tuesdays. That's when the pudding gets unstable."
"Who cursed the pudding?!"
"Who hasn't?"
The mop glowed blue as he leapt over a possessed lunch table, spraying disinfectant like holy water.
Talia ran beside him, chanting a weak containment spell.
A flying meatball dodged it and exploded against the wall, dripping ectoplasm.
"I need a better spellbook," she panted.
"You need better aim."
"YOU try aiming while dodging sentient ravioli!"
They reached the kitchen.
It was… pulsing.
Not in a good way.
The ovens had fused into a single massive appliance. Runes flared along its edges. A dark sigil was carved into the wall behind it.
Talia's eyes widened.
"The same sigil again!"
Mop growled. "Seal number three."
A blast of steam burst from the oven. It formed a face—twisted, smoky, furious.
"WHO DARES CLEANSE MY CULINARY DOMAIN?"
Talia raised a hand. "Talia. Junior Trainee. Also very hungry."
The oven spirit howled.
Mop stepped forward.
"No haunting during lunch hours."
He flung his mop forward.
A stream of anti-curse foam hit the oven.
It sizzled.
Shrieked.
Exploded into a cloud of paprika and regret.
Aftermath
Talia sat on an upside-down chair, covered in pudding.
Mop handed her a fresh tray.
"Uncursed this time," he said.
She poked it.
It didn't blink.
Progress.
"So…" she said, "third seal, third incident."
He nodded. "They're waking up faster."
"Do we know what they are?"
"Not yet. But it's something old. Something that was locked away for good reason."
She took a bite of her non-haunted lasagna.
"Any more cursed places we need to clean?"
Mop smirked. "You ever been to the Forbidden Faculty Lounge?"
Her eyes lit up.
"Let's go."
Part 8: The Forbidden Faculty Lounge Fiasco
Location: Faculty Wing – Restricted Access
"No students beyond this point," the sign read.
Naturally, Talia was halfway through the door.
"I feel like I'm about to learn secrets that will emotionally damage me," she whispered.
Mop followed, sipping tea from a mug that read 'World's Best Floor-Warden.'
"You'll be fine."
"What happens if we get caught?"
"We won't."
"And if we do?"
"I'll tell them you're my emotional support student."
Talia blinked.
"…That works?"
"It has before."
The Faculty Lounge.
Dark velvet carpets.Floating chess boards.A fireplace that burned with sarcastic green flames.
Portraits of former professors lined the walls—some were snoring, others playing poker, one aggressively knitting a magical sweater with moving arms.
And in the center…
A glowing tea set.
Suspended midair.
Chattering to itself.
Talia squinted. "Is that—"
"Yes," Mop said grimly. "A Sentient Scone Set."
It turned toward them, sniffed the air, and spoke in a posh British accent.
"Intruders? In our lounge? During scone hour?!"
Talia whispered, "We're going to die to pastry, aren't we?"
Suddenly, the floor split open.
A massive seal lit up below them, glowing violet.
Talia pointed. "Another one! That's seal number four!"
And then came the chanting.
From the ceiling.
No, in the ceiling.
Seven cups of enchanted tea floated up, fused into a halo, and projected a shimmering figure:
A woman.
Tall. Cloaked in shadows.
Her voice like chalk dragged across a cursed blackboard.
"The age of cleanliness is over... The Forgotten Faculty shall rise again."
Mop scowled. "That's Professor Flayra. Banished years ago for trying to replace all students with magically obedient spoons."
Talia blinked. "That's… oddly specific."
"They nearly succeeded."
The lounge began to shake.
Scones flew like shurikens.
A sofa roared to life and charged Talia.
She screamed, "WHY IS EVERYTHING IN THIS SCHOOL POSSESSED?!"
Mop calmly deflected the sofa with a mop swipe.
"Faculty Lounge was cursed decades ago. They sealed it. Apparently not well enough."
The spectral Flayra's face twisted.
"You cannot stop what is already scrubbed from memory!"
Talia charged forward, muttering her new favorite spell:
"Turbo Cleanse!"
The mop glowed.
The seal cracked.
She struck it with a burst of soapy energy.
It exploded in a blast of lemon and lavender.
Flayra shrieked and vanished.
Silence.
Everything stopped.
The tea set clinked nervously and hovered into a drawer.
The fireplace coughed once, then went out.
Mop dusted his coat. "That's four seals."
Talia wiped pudding from her ear. "How many are there?"
"Unknown."
"Awesome. Love a mystery apocalypse."
He turned to her. "But you held your own. That counts."
"Counts toward what?"
He handed her a patch.
It read:
'Custodial Division Zero – Level 1: Sentient Sofa Slayer'
She stared at it.
Then grinned.
"I'm putting this on my school jacket."
"Do that and you'll be bullied and hunted by cursed furniture."
"...Totally worth it."
Later That Night – Janitor's Office
Mop poured tea into a chipped cup, staring at the map on the wall.
Four seals down.
Each one more unstable than the last.
He drew a shaky X across Faculty Lounge.
Behind him, Talia snored on a cot with a plush mop toy clutched to her chest.
Mop sighed.
He hadn't told her the full truth.
Not yet.
About what happened the last time the seals broke.
About the war. The cleaning war.
About what he used to be.
But that could wait.
For now, there were hallways to mop.Pudding to banish.And evil to scrub.
Part 9: Of Broomsticks and Backstories
Somewhere in the West Wing Storage Vaults…
The lights flickered.
One blink too many.
Then silence.
Mop stood in front of a rusty door marked "B03 – Restricted Archives."
Talia clutched a glowing lantern beside him.
"So what are we looking for down here? Another cursed sofa? Haunted stapler?"
"No."
He placed his hand on the door.
"We're looking for my broom."
She blinked. "...You don't already have a broom?"
"I have a broom. Not the broom."
The door opened with a hiss.
Dust.
Darkness.
And a breeze that smelled like old parchment, regret, and lemon wax.
They entered.
Rows of forgotten relics stood in glass cases.
A melted clock that ticked backward.A hat that whispered in iambic pentameter.A bottle labeled: "Unholy Mayonnaise – Do Not Shake."
In the center of the room…A simple stand.
Upon it, a gnarled wooden broom, bound in silver string.It hummed with latent power.
Talia stared. "That's it?"
"Yes."
She squinted.
"What makes it so special?"
Mop exhaled.
"It once swept the battlefield of gods."
Flashback Begins – 100 Years Ago
The battlefield was on fire.
Armies clashed between floating ruins and shattered moons.
Above it all, a giant mop-wielding figure descended from the sky.
Not a warrior.Not a general.
A Janitor.
The Janitor.
His mop glowed with divine radiance.
He didn't slay monsters.
He cleaned them.
Scrubbing evil off their souls with furious elegance.
When the Demon King unleashed a corruption plague, he didn't summon a hero.
He summoned him.
The battle ended with one final swipe, and a realm purified.
Then he vanished.
Flashback Ends
Talia stared.
"Wait wait wait. You were that guy?"
"I had… more hair then."
"You were basically an interdimensional cleaning demigod!"
Mop picked up the broom.
It pulsed in his grip.
"Yes."
"Why'd you disappear?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned and walked toward the door.
Talia hurried behind.
"Are you seriously not going to answer that?!"
"No."
"Can I guess?"
"Also no."
"Was it taxes?"
"Close."
As they left the vault, a faint vibration echoed.
Behind them, the relics shivered.
From the shadows, something stirred.
A sealed scroll with an eye on it blinked… and began to crack.
That Night – Rooftop of Arkana Academy
Talia sat cross-legged, watching stars.
Mop leaned on his restored broom.
"So," she asked, "you gonna tell me what these seals really are?"
He stared at the moon.
"They're not just locks."
"What are they?"
"Warnings. Markers left behind after the Great Cleaning War."
She frowned. "There was a war over cleaning?"
"A war over what shouldn't be cleaned. Over what should be forgotten."
A pause.
"And we're repeating it?"
He nodded. "History doesn't repeat. It hides in the dust."
Talia pulled her coat tighter.
"You're not just a janitor, are you?"
He sipped his tea.
"I am."
"…But also not."
"Exactly."
Part 10: Secrets in the Soapstone
Location: Magical Hygiene Supply Closet #17B
"Okay," Talia said, voice echoing, "I know this place looks like a glorified janitor closet... but why is the floor humming ancient runes?"
"Because it's not a closet," Mop replied. "It's a tomb."
Talia looked down at the glowing soapstone pedestal in the center of the room.
"Of course it is. A tomb. For what? An undead sponge?"
"No. For prophecy."
He pointed at the pedestal.
Carved into it was a block of pristine, enchanted soap.It glowed softly. Whispered in a forgotten dialect.
Talia leaned in.The soap's whispers tickled her ears.
"The One Who Sweeps Shall Fall. The Filth Shall Rise. The Squeegee Shall Decide the Fate of Realms."
She blinked.
"…Did that soap just drop a full prophecy?"
"Yes."
"Why does this school have prophecy soap?!"
Mop shrugged. "It was part of the janitorial budget. Before the war."
Talia stared at him."Okay. You keep referencing 'the war.' What war?!"
Mop stepped toward the pedestal.
Put one hand gently on the soap.
The runes pulsed.
"It began in the Age of Clarity…"
Mini Flashback – The Age of Clarity
Back then, cleaning magic was sacred.
Not just maintenance—but memory, time, and history could be "cleaned."
Sanitized.
Forgotten.
The most powerful janitors weren't servants—they were custodians of fate.
Then… factions arose.
Some wanted to scrub pain from the world.
Others wanted to preserve the stains—say they defined people.
And so, the war began.
A conflict between those who cleaned…And those who kept the mess.
Flashback ends
Talia whispered, "So... this is bigger than the school?"
"It always was."
"The seals… they're not just keeping evil out."
Mop nodded."They're keeping us from remembering what we've already done."
Talia stared at the soap again.
More runes appeared.
"Beware the Re-Marker. The One Who Tags Will Return."
She squinted. "Re-marker? Like… a magic marker?"
"The Marker was the general of the opposing side. He wielded a cursed permanent marker that could rewrite people's identities."
Talia gasped. "That's terrifying."
"It smelled like blueberries. The betrayal was scented."
Suddenly—CRACK!
The soapstone split.
A beam of light shot upward.
A vision unfolded:
Seven towers.Seven seals.
And at the center… the janitor's office.
The final lock.
Talia turned to Mop.
"You're the last seal, aren't you?"
He didn't speak.
Just looked down at his hands.
His mop trembled.
And in the corner of the room—
A dust bunny.
Grew eyes.
And smiled.
Meanwhile – Principal's Office
In the shadows, the Phantom Principal stirred.
Watching visions flicker across ancient surveillance crystals.
"Four seals broken," the voice hissed.
"The girl learns quickly."
The figure stepped forward—cloaked in robes stitched from expulsion letters and cafeteria hairnets.
A hand reached out—
Grasped a marker.
Black.
Scented.
Blueberry.
Part 11: The Fifth Seal and the Phantom Principal
Location: Hallway to the Trophy Room
The lights dimmed.
Not flickered—dimmed, like the hallway was slowly being swallowed.
Talia and Mop walked side by side.
"So… if the prophecy soap was real," she said, "what else do we have? Destiny shampoo? Oracle toilet paper?"
"We don't talk about the toilet paper," Mop replied grimly.
They turned the corner—
And stopped.
The Trophy Room door was open.
Smoke drifted out.
Inside…
Something waited.
Inside the Trophy Room
It looked like a student at first.
Uniform. Backpack. Innocent expression.
But its shadow stretched the wrong way.
And its reflection in the glass cases—
Didn't move.
Talia whispered, "Is that another cursed student?"
Mop shook his head. "No. That's an Echo."
"Echo?"
"A memory turned weapon. Something—or someone—is using old identities to breach the seals."
The Echo turned.
Its eyes glowed violet.
Then, it spoke—
"Mop. The Janitor. You were supposed to stay forgotten."
It raised its hand.
A marker appeared.
Blueberry-scented.
Screaming filled the air—not from mouths, but from walls.
The Echo lashed out, its marker rewriting the very walls: "FIRE. CHAOS. SUSPENSION."
The hallway cracked.
Reality itself twisted.
Combat Begins
Mop tossed Talia a dustpan shield."Hide. This one's personal."
He stepped forward.
Raised his broom.
It glowed with a deep silver light.
The Echo lunged.
But Mop didn't dodge.
He swiped.
One precise movement.
Cleaned the word "FIRE" right off the wall.
The flames vanished.
Talia's jaw dropped. "You just—erased reality?!"
"Cleaning is a sacred art."
He lunged, sweeping the Echo's legs.
But it was fast.
Too fast.
Mid-Battle Revelation
As they clashed—broom vs. cursed marker—fragments of memories leaked into the air.
Visions.
Flashbacks.
Mop standing before a throne of soap.
A child version of him training with a mop twice his size.
The Phantom Principal… not a man, but an idea, passed down.
Talia was hit by one memory flash.
Saw Mop… crying.
Alone in a burnt-down janitor's lounge.
Holding a small badge: "World's Cleanest Dad."
She gasped.
"Mop... you had a family?"
The Echo grinned.
"Ahh. So she doesn't know."
Turning Point
Mop's grip tightened.
His broom lit with furious light.
He didn't speak.
He scrubbed.
The Echo tried to overwrite the ground—
But Mop erased the words before they formed.
Each swing tore through the illusion.
Each step restored a piece of broken space.
Finally—
He plunged his broom into the floor.
Boom.
A ring of cleansing light blasted outward.
The Echo screamed.
Its form shattered into paper scraps.
Only a blueberry scent lingered.
Aftermath
Talia stood quietly.
"…Who was that?"
"One of the Seven Echoes," Mop said. "Each one carries a piece of the Re-Marker's will."
She stepped closer.
"You lost someone in the last war, didn't you?"
Mop nodded.
"My daughter."
Talia's breath caught. "She was…?"
He looked at the broken glass of the trophy case.
"No. She's still alive."
Talia froze.
"…Is she on their side?"
Mop didn't answer.
Instead, he turned toward the stairs.
"Come on. We have one seal left."
Meanwhile – Unknown Location
The Phantom Principal placed another marker in a tray.
Six more glowed.
"They've broken five."
A figure appeared behind him—cloak stitched from erasers.
"She's learning too fast," the figure said. "The girl."
"Let her," the Principal said.
"She'll lead us to the last seal."
Then he smiled.
Wide.
Too wide.
Part 12: Detention with Destiny
Location: The Detention Wing – B2 Underground
If you thought detention was just boring paperwork and broken chalkboards...
You've clearly never seen the Forbidden Detention Wing at Sablehart Academy.
The air buzzed with static.The floor was made of disciplinary records—literal paper layered into flooring.
Talia looked around, whispering, "It smells like guilt and expired pudding."
Mop nodded."Good. That means we're close."
The Final Seal
They reached a steel door, etched with names.
Thousands of names.
Talia's eyes widened. "Are these… students?"
"Every one of them," Mop said. "Expelled. Forgotten. Sealed away."
At the center of the door—A single glowing phrase:
SEAL SIX: THE SIN OF REMEMBRANCE
Suddenly—an alarm blared.
A mechanical voice echoed:
"Unauthorized Cleaning Detected. Deploying Vice Principals."
Incoming Mini-Bosses: The Vice Principals
Five doors opened.Five shadows entered.
Each one wore a suit made of report cards and wielded disciplinary weapons.
One had a detention slip launcher.
Another rode a rolling desk like a skateboard.
One had a whip made of confiscated rulers.
Talia hid behind a pile of suspension letters.
Mop stepped forward.
"Last warning," he said.
"Turn around. Or get wiped."
They laughed.
Until he spun his mop.
And the mop changed.
Broom of Revelation – Awakened Form
It extended into a staff.
Covered in ancient runes.
The bristles hummed like dragonfly wings.
Talia gasped. "That's not a cleaning tool… that's a relic."
"No," Mop said. "This is an heirloom."
Final Fight: Mop vs. The Vice Principals
One charged.
Mop side-stepped, flicked the mop tip—And polished the floor beneath the attacker's feet.
They slipped. Slammed into a wall of expelled poetry.
Another fired detention slips—
Mop spun, creating a whirlwind of disinfectant mist.
The slips burned away in pure sanitizing justice.
The ruler whip came next.
Mop caught it.
Snapped it in half.
Looked the Vice Principal in the eye and whispered:
"Poor classroom management."
Then flipped the attacker over his shoulder.
Meanwhile, Talia…
Was sneaking past.
While Mop fought, she reached the center of the seal door.
The names pulsed.
She saw one she recognized.
Aurelia.
"Mop!" she called. "This name—wasn't that—"
"My daughter," Mop said, appearing beside her.
He touched the name.
It glowed.
Then cracked.
Seal Break
Light exploded.
The door dissolved.
Behind it—Not a prison.
But a garden.
Overgrown. Wild.
And at the center…
A girl.
Wearing a tattered uniform.Eyes closed.
Floating in mid-air.
Aurelia. The Sixth Seal.
Talia gasped. "She's… she's been here the whole time?"
"She is the seal," Mop whispered.
The final lock was a person.
His daughter.
Bound in time and memory.
A magical sleep.
He stepped closer.
But a voice echoed.
Cold.
Mocking.
Enter: The Phantom Principal
The shadows peeled open.
And out stepped a man in a suit made of chalk dust and threats.
Face hidden behind a detention mask.
He carried no weapon—only a marker.
One word written on it:
"Rewrite."
"Mop," he said. "You found your daughter."
"But can you face what she became?"
Twist Reveal
The Principal snapped his fingers.
Aurelia's eyes opened.
They glowed violet.
Talia screamed, "She's possessed!"
"No," the Principal said."She's not possessed."
"She joined us."
"She broke the seal herself… to forget you."
Mop dropped his broom.
Staggered back.
"No…"
Aurelia floated forward.
But her hand trembled.
Tears in her eyes.
"I didn't forget you, Dad…"
"I was trying to protect you."
"I joined him… because he said you'd die otherwise."
Climax Moment
The Phantom Principal raised his marker.
"Rewrite: OBEDIENCE."
But Talia threw her student ID—
It smacked the marker out of his hand.
Mop surged forward.
Grasped Aurelia.
Held her tight.
The seal magic cracked completely—
And a wave of energy burst from her heart.
Washing through the entire Detention Wing.
Cleansing it.
Restoring names.
Restoring truth.
Aftermath
Talia blinked.
The Phantom Principal was gone.
Only his mask remained.
Aurelia collapsed into Mop's arms.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
He smiled.
"No more apologies."
"Just cleaning up the mess together."
Chapter 1 Ends With…
Talia looking at them both.
Two janitors.
One young. One old.
She smiled.
"So… what now?"
Mop stood up.
"We go to the main office."
"Time to take back the school."
🧼 END OF CHAPTER 1 🧼