Mara’s hands froze above the computer, her thoughts spinning. The idea that someone had messed with her memories, wiping away pieces of her past, made her stomach twist in a way she couldn’t shake. She turned off the computer with a sharp click, leaving only the faint buzz of the city outside to fill the quiet of her apartment. The emptiness around her felt overwhelming, weighed down by questions she couldn’t answer. That strange moment at the beach, the gaps in her life—it was all too big to ignore.

She got up fast and started walking back and forth in the small room, her mind racing. Whoever was doing this wasn’t just changing memories for clients—they were wiping out the core of who she was. Someone had worked hard to mess with her life, to make her forget something big. Now, she needed to figure out why.

The door was only a few steps ahead. Mara walked toward it, her hand shaking a little as she grabbed the handle. She didn’t know where to go or who to trust, but she had to do something. She couldn’t stay there any longer, stuck because of fear and doubt. She needed answers, and the only place that seemed like a good place to start was the one she’d been staying away from—the Memory Retrieval Centre.

She hadn’t returned to that place since she started working the night shift, but now, she had no choice but to go back. Even though she didn’t like the thought of facing the place that had played such a big role in her life, it was where everything had started.

Mara took a deep breath and walked into the hallway. The door closed softly behind her. The walls, made of cold metal, felt even colder and heavier than usual. As she walked toward the elevator, her footsteps echoed loudly. With every step, her heart beat faster.

The elevator ride down to the ground floor felt quick and hazy, with the bright, cold lights above flickering as it went down. When the doors opened, she walked out into the crowded lobby of the Memory Retrieval Canter. The shiny floors and modern glass walls were meant to show strength and speed, but now, it just felt like a trap.

Mara walked by the receptionist without looking at her. She had a goal to achieve. She couldn’t let anything distract her, especially at that moment. As she went further into the building, the quietness felt heavy, like the whole place was waiting silently.

She reached the entrance to the restricted area of the center, where the doors were locked and two security guards were standing watch. Mara felt nervous, but she wasn’t going to give up. She had worked here for many years and knew how to handle the situation. She gave the guards a small nod, showed her badge, and proved she had permission to enter.

The guards didn’t ask her anything. They moved out of the way and let her go through.

Inside, the mood shifted completely. The lights were softer, the air chillier, and the sound of machines never stopped. This was where the more serious tasks happened—handling private information and making secret changes to memories. Mara had never been in this part of the building late at night, and something about it felt strange.

She walked carefully between rows of computers and data storage devices, her mind full of questions. She was searching for something specific—answers, proof. She needed to find something that could explain why parts of her memories were missing and why her vacation memories seemed changed. She believed there had to be a reason or someone behind it all.

As she went further into the building, she felt more and more alone. Her thoughts kept going back to that moment—the strange glitch in her memory of the beach, the blank spots in her own life. The missing parts seemed to tease her, always just beyond her grasp, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching her every step.

Mara walked down a long hallway and reached a door she had never noticed before. The sign next to it was empty, with no name or label. She didn’t know what was on the other side, but something inside her told her she was nearing the truth—something that had been kept secret from her. She grabbed the handle, pausing briefly as her heart raced. Still, her curiosity was stronger than her fear, and she couldn’t resist finding out what was behind it.

She turned the knob and stepped inside.

The room was nothing like she had imagined. It was small and poorly lit, with walls covered in old, outdated machines. A line of monitors stood against one wall, quietly flashing. A single desk was messy, filled with papers, digital files, and what seemed like medical tools. It was very quiet, almost too quiet. She had thought there would be modern, shiny equipment, but this room felt... forgotten.

The air felt old and heavy as she walked deeper into the room. Her steps made loud sounds on the hard, cold floor. The room smelled like old books and something slightly like metal. There was just one chair behind the desk. As she looked around at the mess, she noticed something.

A collection of old memory files. These records were labeled with codes she didn’t recognize, codes she wasn’t allowed to see. Her heart raced. These weren’t in the public database; they weren’t even in the systems she could access. They were hidden away.

She walked up to the desk slowly, her hands shaking as she opened the closest file. At first, the words inside didn’t make sense. They were full of numbers and codes, but then, in the middle of the confusing text, one name caught her eye: Project Erasure.

She froze, her breath stuck in her throat. The words sounded familiar, but they didn’t fit here. She had heard them once, briefly, years ago during her training at the canter. It was about a secret project, an effort to wipe out certain memories—memories that were too risky, too sensitive to stay in people’s minds. But there was one thing Mara had never been able to figure out: did the project actually work? Were people really being forgotten?

She quickly looked through more files, trying to find more details and proof. The more she searched, the more she understood that this project wasn’t just about changing memories. It was about erasing them entirely.

Mara felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realized what it all meant. The forgotten memories—her own forgotten memories—weren’t just accidents. They were connected to something called Project Erasure.

All of a sudden, the door to the room clicked shut behind her, and she quickly turned around. A person was standing in the doorway, their shape dark against the bright light from the hallway. It was her boss, Darius. His face showed no emotion, and he looked serious. In his hand, he held a small, shiny device that Mara knew very well.

It was a memory manipulator.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Mara,” Darius said, his voice low, almost regretful.

Mara took a step back, her mind racing. “What’s going on here?” she demanded. “What’s happening to my memories? Who did this?”

Darius’s eyes flickered to the files in her hands. “You were never meant to find this.”

He took a slow step forward, the device in his hand glowing faintly.

“I’m sorry, Mara,” he said again. “But I can’t let you leave.”