Citrinn228 | ((free))

No past. No family. No name except the one the machine gave her.

She looked at the slip of paper again. citrinn228 . Not a name. A question. citrinn228

Elara's throat tightened. She wasn't here to wake her. She was here to terminate the contract. Someone—a lawyer, a ghost from before the wipe—had paid the fee. The woman's former life had caught up with her, even after she'd tried to drown it. No past

"Authorization confirmed," the vault AI announced. "Procedure: reintegration or disposal?" She looked at the slip of paper again

The pod hissed open. The woman's eyes fluttered, confused, then filled with something older than the vault. Tears.

Elara's hand hovered over the keypad. Disposal was clean. Painless. The woman would never know she existed. But reintegration… reintegration meant feeding the old memories back into her mind. Making her remember why she ran.

But the woman only screamed.