"Otorbus Behavior" by EUNUCH

They called it **Otorbus Behavior** because language had already failed and needed a costume.

No one remembered when it started, only when it *noticed* them.

First the **Gray Panic** leaked out of the sockets of the city like old insulation. It wasn’t fear, it was the rehearsal for fear, the dry run where nothing happens but everyone screams anyway. Radios played weather reports for planets that had been repossessed. Babies were born with sighs instead of cries. EUNUCH wrote memos on skin. Misted Panes erased them with breath.

Then things began **Gradually Distinergrating** Words slumped. Teeth loosened their grip on intention. Time began misplacing its verbs. Yesterday refused to conjugate.

A man on the corner sold clocks that only measured **Wretched Sob / Inner Imprisonment**. You wound them and they ticked inward. Every second shaved another thought off your skull and fed it back to you as improvement. People queued politely, sobbing in intervals.

---

The first official chart was released at 3:17 AM, folded like a guilty secret:

```
PANIC DENSITY (kg/regret)
|
| #####
| #### ####
|### ###
|_________________________
before after now
```

No legend. No explanation. Just a footnote:
*Indirect Horros may appear as comfort.*

And it did.

**Indirect Horros** arrived wearing slippers and using your childhood nickname. It patted your head and rearranged your organs alphabetically. It whispered, *this is for your own good*, and everyone agreed because disagreement required effort.

By the time **Molted Glow** set in, the streets were full of softly shedding people. Skin slipped off like outdated opinions. Beneath it—light. Not holy. Not evil. Just administrative. Fluorescent anguish. Emergency exit illumination for the soul.

---

**Abstract Anguish** could no longer be localized. It was everywhere and nowhere and specifically behind your left ear. Scientists tried to trap it in formulas but it kept chewing through the variables.

```
anguish = √(panic² + memory⁴) − hope
hope → 0
anguish → ∞
```

When hope vanished, the equations began laughing.

**Sour Stenches** followed—emotional rot, nostalgia spoiled, futures left unrefrigerated. The air smelled like apologies that had been reheated too many times. Masks were issued. They did nothing. People wore them anyway. Improvement felt important.

---

Then the behavior emerged fully formed, slick, confident:

**Otorbus Behavior** was repetition without cause.
Adjustment without reference.
Correction of things that were never wrong.

Reality developed a twitch. Buildings leaned away from their foundations. Music played its own liner notes. People nodded while being erased, nodding faster to compensate.

**Inner Improvement** became mandatory. You felt better as your name dissolved. You felt calmer as your hands learned new owners. Calm was measured in compliance units.

Another graph appeared, drawn in red and regret:

```
SELF
^
| /\ Miracle
| / \ of
|___/ \______Sanity__________
flirt
(Coquetry
Hysteria)
```

Doctors called it **Coquetry Hysteria**—that phase where sanity flirted with collapse, giggled, touched its arm, said *call me*, and meant it. The abyss started sending flowers.

---

At the deepest point, when no one remembered what resisting felt like, the light changed.

**Tangible Fluid Light** poured from nowhere, thick as honey, bright as an excuse. You could hold it. You could drink it. It tasted like forgiveness with a deductible. It slid through fingers, through ribs, through promises.

People bathed in it.
People drowned in it standing up.

EUNUCH declared success.
Misted Panes denied responsibility.
Both signed the same document backward.

Someone scratched the final diagnosis into the last unmolted wall, letters reversing themselves as you read:

**ytivorpmi renni si kcol eht
roivaheb subroto eht si siht
ytinas fo elcarim eht ton si ti**

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