I tried re-entering the office, hoping to quickly inform Mr. Blonde that I’m missing my room key, but Ms. Grey simply peeked her head out of the office and said something before shutting the door on me.

  Looks like the issue with the key would have to wait.

  I looked at the rolled-up map in my hand and noticed I was still carrying the flattened poster tube by its strap.

  I should try fixing this to pass the time.

  I set my rolled-up map on the ground and tried to unflatten the tube by pushing the insides out with my arm. Though I was able to get my knuckles through the tube’s entrance, I couldn’t go any further without risking hurting myself.

  Is there something I can make to fix this?

  Perhaps a wedge the length of the tube could force the flattened sides to separate.

  I conjured a wedge of equal length and aligned it with the tube’s mouth, then pushed down.

  I constructed a tower to hold the tube perfectly upright and levitated the wedge so that it would drop down the entrance of the tube.

  The wedge released, and it bounced off.

  I tried again, attaching the wedge to a rail so that its trajectory would remain straight, then released.

  The wedge entered the tube, but only separated the flattened sides together by less than an inch. Sending the tube again at a faster speed would likely damage it instead of repairing it to its original shape.

  What’s a better way to repair this?

  I recalled all of the types I fidgeted with plastic water bottles. Whenever I was bored, I’d squeeze the air out of them, then squeeze them a certain way to bring air back in. If it were flattened too much, I’d put my mouth around its mouth and blow it up like a balloon.

  Inflating it would be a better option.

  My first thought was to fill the tube with water and restore its natural shape by using my hands or conjuring whatever tool I could think of that would help separate the flattened ends. However, I then had another idea.

  If I’m so hellbent on fixing this tube instead of just making another one, why not imagine it forming back into its original shape? Similar to a reverse time-lapse of an empty soda under a hydraulic press. It shouldn’t be difficult, since I conjured its exact shape and color using my newfound power.

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  I stared at the poster tube lying flat on the ground, and imagined it slowly reforming. The dents and folds warped back into its original shape, moving like a plant on a sped-up time-lapse. Eventually, the tube returned to its original, pristine state, as if it weren’t crushed in the first place.

  I inspected the tube once more to double-check for any signs of damage I might have missed. The outside looked fine, but it was hard to tell the state of the inside with the lighting I had to work with. Fortunately, I was standing right next to some windows, and it was fairly bright out, more than enough luminosity to clearly see the tube’s inside without needing to conjure a flaming torch or flashlight.

  Repositioning myself so that my body didn’t block any incoming light from the window, I held the tube and tried to peek inside.

  It darkened the moment I put my head to the opening, my body immediately casting a shadow into its depths.

  Convenient.

  The light coming through the window seemed bright enough for a day outside, but for thoroughly inspecting the quality of my poster tube, I needed something brighter and readily accessible.

  I thought of the green light that illuminated the room, resulting from my healing treatment. Perhaps I could recreate a similar phenomenon using my power.

  I imagined a ball of golden light levitating atop my palm. It hovered gently as I marveled at another application on my Imagination Manifestation.

  The ball dimmed to my will, and I focused its luminosity to illuminate the inside of my poster tube.

  After confirming the pristine condition of the poster tube’s inside, I stared at the ball in my hand, ruminating all of the applications I had used my power for.

  Making clothes, mirrors, replicating objects, and a flashlight… Am I a handyman?

  Even though it’s my power now, I couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed by all the applications I’ve used it for.

  It’s only been what, a day? Why am I complaining about this? I’m sure more opportunities will present themselves in the future.

  The ball of light I conjured dissipated and I continued to wait by Mr. Blonde’s door. Not wanting to stand around indefinitely, I conjured a chair befitting a lobby.

  My mind went to the case file involving the smoky snake and all of those sketches of corpses.

  Whatever that old man’s opinion is has to do with that file Mr. Blonde showed me. I’m unsure if Mr. Blonde cleared the misunderstanding or if the old fogey is still distrustful of me.

  But what can I do? My knowledge about all of this is surface-level at best. To me, they’re just corpses with no significant identities. The only reason I know at all is due to the fact that Mr. Blonde needed to pacify the old man’s murderous intent while simultaneously explaining the reason for the old man’s actions.

  As I pondered what to do next in my new life, the door opened, and both Ms. Grey and the Old man walked out.

  The old man didn’t seem to acknowledge me, while Ms. Grey appeared surprised that I was outside the door. She was especially fixated on the chair I had conjured.

  I pointed my thumb at the door, wordlessly asking if I could go into Mr. Blonde’s office.

  After taking a moment to accept my chair’s existence, she nodded and gestured toward the door.

  Finally!

  I got up, securing the poster tube by its strap around my body, and stepped into the office once again to inform Mr. Blonde that I had lost my room 61 key.