Part-Time Archmage, Full-Time Office Drone

On paper, it was the deal of the century: low rent, decent neighborhood, flexible move-in date. In person, the landlord added one more condition: “You can repaint, remodel, whatever. Just don’t open the shed.” I opened the shed. Now there’s a glowing portal in my backyard that leads to an abandoned wizard's tower, a region of settlements that haven't seen their custodian in years, and a goat that insists I’ve “inherited the mantle” of their missing archmage. The tower runs on rules: Fix a ward, it unlocks another room.Solve a problem, it upgrades your magic.Survive long enough, and you might even start to like it. Unfortunately, I already have a job. So between status meetings and performance reviews, I’m: Rebinding protective circles before they leak into the cul-de-sac.Negotiating with ancient entities and repairing infrastructure that hasn't been maintained in decadesTranslating arcane notes left by a wizard who vanished in the middle of something big—and probably catastrophic. Every tiny improvement makes the tower stronger… and drags me deeper in. The villagers are starting to rely on me. The tower is starting to trust me. And the more I learn, the clearer it becomes: I’m not just house-sitting. I’m finishing someone else’s unfinished war.I signed a lease, not a destiny. But until I can stabilize the tower, track down the original archmage, and maybe renegotiate reality’s terms of service, I’m stuck being exactly what the system says I am: Part-time archmage. Full-time office drone. Severely overworked human.