The reset began with a soft electric pressure at the base of his skull. Protocol sensors mapped his synaptic topology, found the clusters flagged by the judicial algorithms, and began the thin, precise excision. Time warped: images folded into white, then reassembled differently. The evening blurred: a song without the chorus, laughter clipped of its meaning, Mara’s face with the edges scrubbed. When he woke, the technician asked simple, necessary questions: name, birthdate, occupation.
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