Recipe for chaos #1

At the mega-corp, where every access is a controlled dose of digital poison, reddish cages with each lock well justified, I spent two months dismantling a glitch lost in a rotten sub-microsystem. The result? A gray meeting, full of automatic nods and protocol smiles. Did they understand the problem? Maybe. Will they solve it? I doubt it. Most likely, another chain of bureaucracy will be born, zombie tickets, reports that no one will read, and records destined for binary oblivion.

And the customer? A decorative piece. Invoked in speech, discarded in practice. The siren sounds: next agenda, next theater, next cycle of chaos packaged as order.