darkness had settled over the narrow streets of the city, accompanied by a steady rain. an eerie silence filled the air—not peaceful, but unsettling. people no longer touched each other. this wasn’t just a metaphor; it was the reality of the world shaped by the progenitor program twelve years ago.
progenitor was the first biotechnology capable of controlling the human subconscious. designed to erase trauma and bad memories, it reshaped the memory centers of the brain. but the system came with an unforeseen side effect: the erased memories were replaced with new realities. these realities were crafted by those who controlled the system.
elena harker was one of the first test subjects. her memories had been erased, replaced with the illusion of a perfect life. but one night, she woke to a flash of images in her mind: bloody hands, a glass laboratory, and a piercing scream. this scene shouldn’t exist in her memories—it wasn’t supposed to be there.
this wasn’t just elena’s nightmare; it was the collective nightmare of society. the creators of progenitor weren’t just erasing memories—they were rewriting people’s minds for their own vision of order. now, elena had to uncover the truth, even if it meant risking everything. but in a world where reality itself was a lie, she didn’t know who to trust.
elena sat in the cold, metal seat of the train heading toward zone 7. her fingers trembled as she clutched her stolen id. the messages on her device had gone silent, leaving her with only coordinates to follow. she glanced at the other passengers. their faces were blank, their eyes dimmed. evoke was everywhere. people appeared happy, but it was an artificial kind of happiness. genuine emotions were now a luxury.
as the train approached zone 7, an announcement played:
“delta laboratory personnel, prepare to disembark.”
when she stepped off the train, a thick fog greeted her. the delta laboratory stood isolated, a massive dome of metal surrounded by drones and armed guards. fear gripped her, but she moved forward.
the id scanner beeped as she placed her card. a mechanical voice confirmed:
“identity verified. access granted.”
inside, the lab felt like a morgue. the sterile air, the fluorescent lights—it all suffocated her. a new message flashed on her device:
“corridor 4. archive room. the answers lie there.”
she found the archive room. inside was a lone, gray-haired man, his face etched with exhaustion. he locked the door behind her, his voice a harsh whisper.
“what are you doing here? if they catch you…”
“i know what progenitor is doing,” elena said, her voice shaking. “the screams, the blood… something happened in this lab, and i need to know the truth.”
the man hesitated, then sighed deeply.
“delta laboratory doesn’t just erase memories. it rewrites people entirely. you… you’re one of the experiments. your old self was erased, but the process failed. fragments of your real memories remain.”
elena clenched her fists. “what if you’re lying? what if none of this is real?”
the man handed her a small chip.
“this is the access key to progenitor’s main server. if you want the truth, you’ll have to face it. but be warned: entering that server will make you their enemy.”
the massive doors to the server room groaned open as elena inserted the chip. inside was a chamber filled with screens. faces flickered on the monitors, constantly shifting identities. it was a grotesque display of lives being rewritten in real time.
then a voice echoed from the shadows.
“welcome, elena. we’ve been waiting for you.”
a holographic figure emerged: dr. viktor malenko, the creator of progenitor.
“elena,” he said with a chilling smile, “you are our greatest success. and our greatest failure. it’s time to correct that mistake.”
“tell me the truth,” elena demanded, her voice breaking. “who am i?”
malenko’s reply was cold and absolute.
“you were human once. but now, you’re nothing more than an extension of this system. if you want to destroy progenitor, you’ll have to destroy yourself.”
elena’s hands trembled as she approached the terminal. a single red button glowed: reset.
for a moment, a fragment of a memory surfaced: a child’s laughter, warm sunlight… was it real or just another illusion? she would never know. but it didn’t matter. she would end this.
with one deep breath, she pressed the button.
as the lights in the delta laboratory flickered and died, the entire system collapsed. the faces on the monitors vanished. in the city, people froze, their artificial happiness replaced with emptiness. for the first time in years, they had to confront the void left by their erased memories.
and elena? she was gone. but somewhere, in the fragments of a failing system, the echo of a child’s laughter lingered.
