Freya had dealt with many things in her short, chaotic, and frequently respawned life: cursed mimics disguised as furniture, bureaucratic cabbage overlords, and semi-sentient paperwork with a vendetta. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared her for the raw, unfiltered madness of the Department of Magical Logistics.
"Welcome to D.M.L.," said a bored receptionist as Freya arrived. She was a slime wearing glasses. "We handle transportation, spatial anomalies, and interdimensional delivery delays. How may I redirect your confusion today?"
"I have no idea," Freya muttered.
"Perfect. You're qualified. Orientation is down the hall past the hallway that doesn't exist. Bring a map that screams."
---
D.M.L. Orientation
The training room was filled with strange folk: a centaur on rollerblades, a banshee with a Bluetooth headset, and a dwarf staring lovingly at a parcel labeled "Unicorn Feed – Do Not Snort."
Pixel buzzed in. "Freya, welcome to the Department of Magical Logistics! You're assigned to Traffic Coordination! Unicorn Division."
Freya blinked. "Traffic. For unicorns?"
"Indeed! Did you know unicorns have very specific road rage issues?"
"What could possibly go wrong?"
The lights flickered. In the distance, a unicorn neighed in blood-curdling fury.
"Right," Freya muttered. "This will go well."
---
Shift 1: Morning Commute, Sparklepocalypse
Freya stood on a floating traffic island wearing a reflective vest that glowed with passive aggression. Her wand had been replaced with a glowing baton labeled: 'Use to Direct Hooves Only. Not for Dance Battles.'
The road was chaos. Pegasi and unicorns merged lanes, leaving glitter trails and existential confusion. A rainbow detour sign was on fire.
"STOP NEIGHRUNNING!" Freya screamed at a unicorn doing donuts.
He neighed in defiance and disappeared into a wormhole.
Pixel handed her a notepad. "Please issue citations."
"To who? The unicorn's tail was driving!"
To make matters worse, a group of centaurs had organized a spontaneous square dance in the middle of a crosswalk. Freya attempted to redirect them with her baton, but they just lassoed a passing griffin and started playing the banjo.
She muttered, "This must be what purgatory feels like."
---
Emergency Call: Overloaded Rainbow Bridge
Dispatch sent her to a bridge made of concentrated optimism and glitter.
"The bridge is sagging under excessive joy," the engineer warned. "Too many unicorns. Too many sparkles."
Freya examined the bridge, which was currently singing a lullaby.
She waved her baton. "All right, break it up! Only emotionally stable unicorns allowed past this point!"
One unicorn burst into tears.
Another sneezed glitter and exploded into interpretive dance.
She rerouted them through Sadness Tunnel.
And then Sadness Tunnel started leaking melancholy. Literal drops of regret began to puddle around her boots.
"I'm developing seasonal depression in real time," Freya muttered.
---
Break Room Nonsense
Freya attempted a coffee break. The coffee machine was a grumpy imp who dispensed insults instead of caffeine.
"You again?" it grumbled. "You couldn't coordinate a sneeze."
Freya slammed her cup. "Just give me your least offensive bean water."
"Here. I spat in it. That's love."
She sipped. It tasted like betrayal and undercooked toast.
Greg strolled in with a pastry and unicorn horn sunglasses.
"Having fun?" he asked.
"Define fun," she said.
"A soul-numbing detour through magical logistics."
"Then yes. Living the dream."
Behind them, someone's yogurt came alive and started reciting slam poetry.
---
Shift 2: Unicorn Protest
Apparently, the unicorns had formed a union.
"NO HOOF LEFT BEHIND!" they chanted.
Their demands:
More sparkle lanes
Extended nap rights
Rainbow rest stops every 500 feet
Freya was sent in to negotiate.
She wore a shirt that read: "Let's Talk It Out Without Horns."
The lead unicorn—Sir Glittermane—snorted. "We demand hoof-care coverage!"
"I can offer you... organic oats?"
Sir Glittermane neighed ominously. "Throw in emotional therapy baths."
"Fine," Freya sighed. "But no more glitter blockades. I'm still sneezing sparkles from last week."
They signed a treaty on enchanted parchment, sealed with a hoofprint and an interpretive dance.
---
Incident Report: Time Loop Roundabout
Freya was sent to a traffic circle cursed with a temporal loop. Vehicles kept driving in, forgetting where they were, and emerging with different accents.
She watched as:
A goblin entered speaking Common and left speaking Haiku.
A unicorn forgot its name and adopted Freya as its mother.
A postman turned into a philosopher.
She jumped in to break the loop and emerged with a sudden knowledge of ancient baking spells.
"I can make sentient cupcakes now," she whispered.
Pixel beamed. "Bonus skill acquired!"
---
Afternoon Crisis: Parking Zone Collapse
The underground unicorn parking garage imploded due to too many enchanted wagons parked illegally.
Freya helped dig out a prancing pony with ego issues.
"I demand valet service!" it whinnied.
"Buddy, I'm holding up this ceiling with expired optimism. Chill."
Greg arrived with a portable anti-collapse rune.
"Brought snacks!" he said, handing her a lava brownie.
The brownie bit her.
"Not again," Freya muttered.
She threw it back into the garage where it started aggressively filing itself into a complaint box.
---
Traffic Forecast with Weather Gnomes
Freya was reassigned to work with gnome meteorologists to help predict magical traffic flows.
"This storm front is made of sarcasm and passive-aggression," the lead gnome said. "It'll clog roads for hours."
They stared at a forecast shaped like a weeping emoji.
Freya nodded. "We need a detour through the Valley of Emotional Suppression."
"Already clogged with minotaurs in therapy," the gnome muttered.
She sighed. "Then we're going airborne."
A squadron of pixie drones lifted the entire detour sign into the sky while Freya yelled, "Left at the second existential crisis, right after the metaphorical wall!"
---
Evening: Random Portal Outbreak
Suddenly, portals opened across the realm, linking driveways to volcanoes, kitchens to kraken nests, and public restrooms to the astral plane.
Freya had to redirect traffic through non-hostile dimensions.
One unicorn slipped into a realm made of regret and cheese.
She dragged it back with a lasso made of dental floss and determination.
Pixel flew overhead with a blinking sign: "Emergency Dimensional Cleanup in Progress – Please Remain Disoriented."
Freya dodged a flock of teleporting ducks and helped seal a portal leaking outdated pop songs.
---
End-of-Day Review
Freya returned to the Logistics HQ, covered in glitter, cheese residue, and what she hoped wasn't kraken mucus.
"You made it through your first shift!" said the receptionist-slime.
"I died twice."
"You only have to survive two more weeks for the full health benefits!"
Freya screamed internally.
Pixel handed her a sticker that read: "I Braved Unicorn Traffic and All I Got Was This Existential Dread."
She peeled it off and slapped it on her helmet.
Greg popped up again, holding a confused hedgehog. "Tomorrow you're on cross-dimensional supply routing."
"What could go wrong?" she said, dead inside.
The hedgehog exploded into confetti.