[Intro] [Tom-heavy drums and distorted bass strike; the harmonium motif is cut off after two notes.] “Before we begin, A minor alignment Regarding your title.” [Verse 1] The partner arrives with a folder and smile, Then praises my effort in managerial style. “Your knowledge is strong, though your tone can be grim. Your stakeholder handling requires further trim.” He slides me a badge with a pale yellow band: Junior Consultant, External Demand. Nine worlds once listened when I raised my hand. Now I need supervision to enter the stand. [Pre-Chorus] He says, “Titles are symbols; don’t take this to heart.” A god knows a symbol can tear worlds apart. He says, “Think of growth and the value ahead.” I think of the warnings his red pen left dead. [Chorus] Allfather, junior consultant, One eye gone, no senior appointment. Allfather, junior consultant, Truth made safe for executive enjoyment. They bought my warning, removed the fault, Then filed my sacrifice under default. [Verse 2] He orders the ravens to report through his team. He shortens the flood to a “liquidity theme.” He turns Fenrir’s jaws to a market concern. He asks me to smile while the nine worlds burn. I look at the badge and the cheap plastic face. My name has been lowered; the lie keeps its place. Then Munin sends one hidden file to my screen: The prophecy whole, unapproved and unseen. [Pre-Chorus] The partner says, “Odin, we need you aligned.” I answer, “Alignment is not being blind.” He says, “Your career can recover in time.” I open the master deck. Slide ninety-nine. [Chorus] Allfather, junior consultant, One eye gone, no senior appointment. Allfather, junior consultant, Truth made safe for executive enjoyment. They bought my warning, removed the fault, Then filed my sacrifice under default. [Instrumental Break] [Distorted guitar repeats the three-note motif as toms move from disciplined office rhythm into an uneven battle pulse.] [Bridge] I once paid dearly to know what would be. Today they pay poorly to disagree. But rank is a chair and a title is tape. Neither can alter the teeth of a fate. I restore every name and each terrible word. Then grant presentation rights to each bird. [Break] [Manager] “Remove that slide.” [Odin] “No.” [Manager] “That is not your decision.” [Odin] “Now it is.” [Build-up] The lanyard tightens. I tear it away. The screen asks whether I want changes to stay. Hugin says, “Save.” Munin says, “Send.” I click on the file marked UNEDITED END. [Final Chorus] Allfather, junior consultant— No more need for your senior appointment. Allfather, junior consultant— I will not trade truth for your enjoyment. You bought my hours, not what I know. You cut my title; I cut the show. [Outro] The partner reaches to shut down the screen. Gungnir falls between us, balanced and clean. No blood is drawn. No threat is sent. I take the cable—and the presentation.