Day 1,342 in the corporate wasteland.
Communication are ghostly whispers in the dark, never reaching the frontline.
Leadership? Vanished. We wander through endless corridors with no map, no guidance, only the echo of “figure it out.”
Attrition isn’t natural here, it’s engineered. Colleagues disappear one by one, not from monsters, but from policies designed to push them out. The older survivors are the first to be hunted, marked as “obsolete” by forces we can’t fight.
Every meeting feels like a boss battle with no we-pons. Every email is a trap. The objective isn’t growth, it’s endurance. And the only reward for surviving another day? Watching the next teammate fall.
BNY Mellon isn’t a workplace. It’s a horror game where the odds are stacked, the exits are sealed, and the players are expendable.
Press X to try and escape… if you still can.