The process of fixing Scranton's body wasn't an simple one, but he'd managed to do it well. It was honestly some of Michael's best work if he did say so himself, but he hadn’t been able to fix the man’s mind.

They’d probably need to erase all his memories of this place before he’d go back to normal, but whatever the case, Michael had bound him tightly using his zip ties. The second he’d released Scranton from the hivemind he’d tried to bite him.

Kind of rude to bite at your savior, but it’s whatever I guess.

A short rope connected them together, and they didn’t have to wait long before Michael felt the shift approaching as space quickly enveloped the two and spit them back into their world.

After the shift had finished, Michael found himself in his room with a feral Dr. Scranton chewing on his rope beside him.

"Well I didn’t really move much in that dimension, so it's not that surprising I ended up here."

Michael got up and walked over to the far wall, before pressing a button to call the staff. He’d need them to take Scranton off his hands, but before that Michael put his hand on Scranton’s shoulder.

“Welcome home buddy.”

Michael quickly pulled his hand back as Scranton attempted to bite it.

“God damnit, I was trying to have a moment here.”

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Hearthgrieve stared at Michael and his new stowaway of the week with abject shock. Is that Dr. Scranton? My god, that man’s practically a legend, did Michael actually manage to find him? This is great news!

Hearthgrieve quickly spoke through the room's speaker, “Great job Michael, you can give me that debriefing later. I’ll send in someone to tend to Dr. Scranton right away.”

He was still having trouble believing it. Thirty years and that man was still alive. Wait, doesn’t his wife still work in the foundation? She’ll be ecstatic, let’s see if I can’t give her a call.

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Once they’d taken Scranton away for amnestic treatment, Michael didn’t have much to do. He did need a couple more items, but he was unsure if the foundation would actually provide them, but there was no harm in asking, right?

1.D-Class that have committed crimes worthy of death.

2.Anomalous Items. (useful ones)

Michael turned in his requests and was surprised when not an hour later ten D-Class were restrained and moved into his cell. The guard ushering them had a grin on his face.

“These are for you Michael, some of the worst D-Class we keep here. I picked them myself.”

“Uh huh, you know I didn’t really expect you people to actually come through. What's with the change in treatment?”

“Well the higher ups seem to have taken a liking to you.”

“Does that mean my request for more anomalous items were approved?”

“That’s above my pay grade man.”

With a sigh Michael walked up to each one of the D-Class and tapped them on the head before turning back towards the guard.

“These better actually be terrible people, trust me, I’ll know the difference.”

If all they did was commit tax fraud, then he didn’t want to be treating them as cannon fodder.

“Yeah, yeah, we know you can read their memories. Just take a look, you won’t be disappointed. They’re all complete and total scum.”

“Alrighty then.”

With that the men fell to their knees as the flesh covering their bodies began to contort.

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Michael idly played games on his computer. He didn’t really have much to do at the moment, so taking some time to relax seemed like a good idea. He’d managed to get all ten of his new soldiers outfitted in combat attire, and they were currently being stored two rooms down from him. He’d even gotten them to give one of them a door to carry around, no questions asked.

He’d already spoken to Hearthgrieve about the last shift, and he reacted surprisingly happy about the whole thing. The man seemed to idolize Scranton, as did most of the staff Michael spoke to. Apparently he was the only one capable of improving his reality stabilizers. Which were essential in dealing with anomalies that warped reality. Apparently it was a far too common characteristic among anomalies.

Michael was deep in thought when he heard a quick knock at his door, as a relatively old woman entered his room. She wore foundation scientist attire, and a cursory glance revealed that she was quite a high ranking member of the foundation. Then he remembered who she was, she may look quite a bit older, but that's Scranton’s wife Anna. She was all throughout the man's memories.

She walked over to Michael, tears forming in the corners of her eyes before she abruptly brought him into a hug.

“Uhh, what?”

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You're Anna right?”

She nodded, as Michael attempted, and failed, to separate from her.

“Really, it's not that big a deal, I just did what I could.”

“No, Dr. Hearthgrieve showed me the debriefing. Thank you for saving him from that horrible place. Without you he…”

That’s when she really did start to cry.

Michael was starting to feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t used to having old ladies crying on him, so he just awkwardly patted her on the back and tried to weather the storm

“Come on, I’m not some hero. I was really just doing what I wanted to.”

“Still...thank you.”

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A week after his last shift had ended, Michael was told he’d once again be ditching the skinny fuck that kills everyone who looks at its face in another dimension. Even though he’d failed to get rid of it last time, they'd apparently concluded that it was likely a fluke and it wasn’t worth discarding this method of termination just yet.

Overall Michael was less apprehensive about the situation than last time. The only reason he’d failed previously was because the Manager kicked it out of her dimension. Honestly, even if he looked at him, Michael didn’t think the Shy Guy could even kill him before he inevitably shifted back to this reality. One thing the flesh that hates was known for is its ability to burrow, and with his ten new soldiers Michael felt he could probably outpace the monster easily enough.

Several days passed and Michael was once again transported back to the desert facility. He thought they’d give him trouble with moving his new soldiers, but they were surprisingly compliant throughout the whole process.

They either really wanted the Shy Guy gone, or some bigshot, probably Anna, told them to treat me nice.

After a moment of thought, Michael decided it was probably both.

Once he’d arrived, and began to make his way into the facility, Michael recalled that the staff here didn't like him very much.

Which wasn’t surprising considering he’d failed to get rid of their problem child, but now they were treating him as nicely as possible.

They’d politely ushered Michael to his room and told him to just ask if he wanted anything and they’d try their best to make it happen.

It looks like their hope for the ditchening of Shy Guy has been rekindled, and they didn't want to upset Michael.

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Once the two week had finally passed, Michael was once again tethered to the Shy Guy, and a thick bag was placed over the monster's face. The tether was somewhat annoying, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Well, he could just have one of the infected go hold onto Shy Guy, but that just seems like an accident waiting to happen. So he just accepted the fact that he’d have a rope tied to him for a couple days while he waited for the shift to start.

Michael didn’t have to wait long for the shift to begin, as space distorted around him, his soldiers and Shy Guy, before spitting them out in what looked to be a church filled with people dressed in funeral attire.

Suddenly a child’s voice rang out across the room “Cousin Johnny, can I go next?”.