The Grim Barbarity Of Optics And Designseveranc... May 2026

"They tell us you butchered us," Irving said, gesturing to the carnage on the canvas. "And they tell you we butchered you ."

This is a short story inspired by that chilling piece of art.

Irving leaned in. The victims in the painting didn't look angry or even afraid. They looked confused, their eyes darting toward the exits as if they’d forgotten how to open a door. The Grim Barbarity of Optics and DesignSeveranc...

Irving looked back at the marauders in the painting. He realized then that the glowing ID cards weren't just lights; they were the only things the workers could see. They weren't attacking out of hate. They were attacking because the "Optics" of the room had been designed so they couldn't see anything else. "Let's change the design," Irving whispered.

He stopped before the painting. The canvas was dark, its edges bleeding into the shadows of the hallway. It showed O&D workers, their faces obscured by the glare of glowing ID cards that looked like handheld miniature suns. They were tearing through MDR, not with swords, but with drafting compasses and T-squares. "It’s just a mediation," a voice whispered behind him. "They tell us you butchered us," Irving said,

Irving walked the narrow corridors of Lumon, his fingers tracing the cold, eggshell-white walls. In his hand, he clutched a map—not a physical one, but a map of memories he wasn't supposed to have. As an "Innie," his world was only this: the green carpet, the humming servers, and the occasional, terrifying glance at the O&D department's "art."

Burt stepped closer, the light finally catching the silver in his hair. "The grim barbarity isn't the killing, Irving. It's the design. Look at the eyes in the painting." The victims in the painting didn't look angry or even afraid

Irving jumped, turning to find a man from O&D—Burt—standing just out of the light. Burt didn't look like a marauder. He looked tired.