The Echo She Chose To Erase

Compt

relentless rhythm, each beat a hammer blow against my skull. My eyes fluttered open, struggl

traints bit into my skin. I was bound, spreadeagled, to a metal chair.

sh light bulb hummed overhead, casting stark shadows across the concrete wall

against the dim hallway. My vision cleared just enough to r

my voice hoarse, raw with anger and disbelie

back," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. "Severe PTSD, acute anxiety,

at' s a lie! She' s faking it! She' s manipulating you!"

icly assaulted a fellow operative. You refused direct orders. You attempted to sabotage a mission.

awn in your game?" My voice cracked. The p

and security of this organization," he continued, his voice chillingly

ures in dark uniforms entered, their faces

"The tribunal has convened. Your sentence has been passed."

onizing disbelief. "Hazen..." My voice was a broken whisper.

he room. The heavy metal door hissed shut behind him, plunging me into a

forward, a sneer on his lips. "Looks like the mighty Echo has finally

ldn't give them the sa

n hit. It wasn't physical. It was a searing, agonizing assault on my mind, like a thousand needles piercing my brain, pulling apart the very f

d at my throat. I would not break. I would not give them the pleasure. The worl

head pounding with a dull, persistent ache. They unstrapped me, and I slid to the floor, a heap of broken human

tal position, for what felt like an eternity. The only sound w

I shielded my eyes, blinking against the sudden brightness. Hazen stood ther

gs weak and trembling. My head throbbed, a dull ach

he said, reach

my gaze cold. "D

want to do this, Echo. But you left me no choice. Your behavio

n," I retorted, my voice flat, emotio

ts," he continued, ignoring my words. "

down the hall, a high-pitc

tense of explanation, vanished. He turned and sprinted down the hall, once

ear. I accessed my remaining accounts, transferring the last of my available funds to t

my home, my family, my entire life, now felt like a prison. My spirit was bruised, my

memory wipe procedure. The clinic was sterile, cold, humming softly with unseen ma

ely erasing all personal memories from the age of eighteen onwards. You will retain your core s

. No regret. None of the dramatic sadness one might expect from so

ke a part of my mind, a heavy, painful weight, being gently lifted, then yanked away. The images of Hazen, Bianca, Corina,

ers. The pain, a distant echo. Then, nothing