Then came the Reassignment Mandate. Due to a labor shortage, every citizen had to re-audition for their career based on “expansion potential.” Elena, desperate, cheated. She drank a tank of heavy-water slurry before her weigh-in, adding twelve kilos of bloat. The algorithm blinked, reassigning her to the most coveted role: Chief Ingestive Officer for House of Ascension, the city’s most decadent brand.
So Elena ate. She ate until her ribs vanished. She ate until her cheeks swelled over her eyes. She learned the dark trick of her predecessors: a “fattening career” wasn’t about pleasure. It was about survival through consumption. The heavier she grew, the more immobile she became, and the more they fed her—because a truly valuable employee couldn’t leave. Her worth was her weight. Her prison was her paycheck. fattening career
Her first day, she was wheeled into a chamber of velvet and chrome. Her new desk was a reinforced slab. Her “work” was a trough of honey-braised marrow, followed by a cascading fountain of butter-bourbon. A handler smiled: “Your KPI is daily net gain: 1.5 kilos. Fail to meet it, and you’re downgraded to Waste Extractor.” Then came the Reassignment Mandate
The dream job everyone wanted was a “Sustenance Sculptor” in the Gilded Domes, where artists ate gold-leafed lard sculptures and grew into living, wobbling cathedrals of flesh. But Elena couldn’t even afford real cream. The algorithm blinked, reassigning her to the most
Elena Kaspian, a lean, sharp-edged woman of thirty-two, was considered Veridia’s most pathetic failure. She worked as a “Depletion Auditor”—a civil servant who calculated calorie deficits in the poorer under-levels. Her job kept her thin, stressed, and invisible. At company reviews, her boss would sigh at her chart: “Elena, your quarterly gain is negative 0.3 kilos. You’re a reverse role model.”
The next morning, Elena refused breakfast. Then lunch. The alarms blared. The floor didn’t open. The handler screamed. Elena simply sat, her great body a monument to a career she finally quit. And the thin girl beside her, holding her hand, finally smiled too.
Elena looked at the girl’s sharp collarbones, her hungry eyes. For the first time in a year, she smiled. “Don’t eat a thing,” she whispered back. “Let them fire us both.”