Mara’s heart was pounding as she stood in the hallway near the off-limits area of the Memory Retrieval Centre. The truth she had uncovered weighed heavily on her, but what bothered her even more was the growing suspicion that someone had been tampering not only with her memories but with her entire past. She had always trusted the Centre—it was the foundation of her life. Now, it felt like everything she knew was falling apart.

The terminal behind her was now closed, and Mara stood in the cold, eerily silent hallway. It was a place she used to know well, a place that once felt safe. But tonight, it all felt strange. In the distance, she could hear the soft buzz of machines—sounds that used to be comforting now felt unfamiliar, almost like they were quietly watching her.

Her eyes stayed locked on the door in front of her—the one that led to the most hidden part of the Centre. She had never been allowed to go through it, and neither had anyone else who worked there. A small voice in her head asked if she was doing the right thing. Should she turn around, go home, and forget everything? Pretend she never found out the unsettling truth and try to live with the broken pieces of her life, even if they weren’t the same as before?

But the thought of doing nothing, of letting this continue, was unbearable.

Mara took a breath, straightening her shoulders, and moved toward the door.

She walked past the security guards at the front desk, not paying attention to their curious looks. Her ID badge dangled from her neck, but she hardly noticed it. She didn’t stop to talk. The atmosphere around her felt heavy with the chance of finding something important, and she didn’t want to waste any time.

As she went further into the Centre , the outside world seemed to disappear. No one was around anymore. The usual sounds of people walking, talking, and working were gone. It was a quiet, clean area, with only the soft sounds of machines clicking and the occasional beep of a system adjusting itself. It felt like a place from the past, something left behind from another time.

At last, she arrived at the restricted area, a place most workers weren’t allowed to enter: the research labs and secure storage zones. Her heart started beating faster. This was where memories were changed, erased, and kept in ways regular clients—or even most staff—couldn’t access. Only people with top-level clearance could go in. It was like a maze of security: eye scanners, voice passwords, and locked doors she had no clue how to get past.

But Mara was familiar with this place. She had worked here for so long that she understood how things usually went. She had always followed the rules, sticking to the tasks she was supposed to do, like the routine checks of clients’ memories. But tonight? Tonight, she was ready to break the rules.

She walked up to the door that went further into the building, where the most unusual and risky memories were stored. The door was secured with several locks: an eye scan, a voice command, and a number code. Usually, only someone with special permission could get in. But she knew the code. She had learned it long ago, even though she had never needed to use it before now.

With a deep breath, she entered the code.

The lock disengaged with a soft click, and the door slid open.

The next room was dimly lit, with rows of old machines, some of them old-fashioned but still working. The air smelled stale—maybe from dust or the faint smell of old paper. But it wasn’t the room that made her feel uneasy. It was what was kept there. Behind locked doors and secret files were memories—memories that had been wiped, changed, deleted, or even made up. It was a hidden, shady part of the Center, a place where people didn’t ask too many questions.

As Mara walked further into the room, the rows of machines stood tall, like old, abandoned tools from a time when changing memories was rough and not very advanced. Now, it had improved. Memories were shaped like pieces of art, carefully adjusted and made perfect. But here, in the dark corners, she sensed there were hidden truths—truths that had been hidden and locked away for a good reason.

Her gaze fell on a small, dusty desk in the corner. It was messy, covered with old papers and notes written by hand. She moved closer, picked up the nearest file, and opened it.

What she saw froze her blood.

The file had a code she didn’t understand, a mix of numbers and letters: Project Epsilon. She had heard whispers about a project with a similar name, something talked about quietly in the hidden parts of the Center—rumors that it had been shut down years ago. But these files… they were new. And they seemed to prove all her worst fears were true.

The pages were full of detailed information about ways to erase memories. Not just small changes or improvements, but complete removal—whole parts of a person’s life erased on purpose, leaving no sign they ever happened. There were notes about people whose memories had been changed without them knowing or agreeing to it. These individuals, in a way, no longer existed in their own pasts.

Her breathing stopped for a moment as she turned the pages. There were names she didn’t know, along with dates and times—each one more frightening than the one before. Then, close to the end of the file, she saw something that made her feel sick.

There, in the margin of one of the final reports, was a notation: “Subject M: Termination Complete.”

Subject M? The idea hit her suddenly, like a flash of lightning. Her thoughts quickly tried to make sense of it all. Were they talking about her? Was she Subject M? The project, the way memories were being changed—everything seemed to lead back to her.

Suddenly, the soft beep of a terminal interrupted her thoughts, followed by the heavy sound of footsteps approaching from behind.

Mara felt a sudden wave of fear. She didn’t have time to think about what the file in her hands meant. She quickly turned around, her eyes wide open, staring at the person who had just walked into the room.

Standing in the doorway was her boss, Darius. His face looked serious and cold, with no hint of kindness. In his hand, he held a device she recognized immediately: a memory changer, a tool used to delete, change, or add memories.

Mara’s breath stopped as Darius walked toward her, his eyes locked on her face.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, his voice calm and steady, as if he had been waiting for her.

She felt like the room was shrinking around her. The device in Darius’s hand turned on, glowing with a cold light that lit up his face.

“I had no choice,” Mara said softly, her voice trembling. “I need to know the truth. I need to know what’s been taken from me.”

Darius didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed as he took another step closer, a small hint of sadness in his expression.

“Some things are better left forgotten, Mara,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Then, before she could do anything, he lifted the device.

Everything went dark.