The knock came late, a deliberate rap that echoed through the quiet of her lab. Elira's heart quickened, a signal she tried to ignore.
She opened the door to reveal a man in a sleek, dark suit, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her. No introduction. No hesitation.
"I have a job," he said, voice low and steady. "High stakes, high pay. But it's not legal."
Elira's fingers tensed around the doorframe. Illegal jobs were whispered about in the underground, but she had always stayed clear of them. Her ethics were her anchor, until now.
"Details," she said, wary.
He stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, his gaze never leaving hers. "A memory extraction. Without consent."
Her breath caught. The laws were clear: no one had the right to erase or alter memories without the subject's full agreement. This crossed a line she'd never dared approach.
"Who's the target?" she asked, voice steady despite the pounding of her heart.
"That's classified," he replied. "All you need to know is it's urgent, and the pay will change your life."
Elira's mind raced. The temptation tugged at her money enough to upgrade her lab, secure her future. But at what cost?
She shook her head. "I don't do illegal jobs."
The man's lips curved into a thin smile. "Everyone has their price. Consider it."
With that, he handed her a data drive small, unmarked, and left as suddenly as he appeared.
Alone again, Elira stared at the drive. The room felt colder, heavier. Curiosity warred with caution. Her life was about to change in ways she couldn't yet imagine.
She hesitated, then plugged the drive into her terminal. The screen flickered to life, displaying a memory extraction request: a name, a date, a location. Nothing obvious.
She initiated a quick scan and paused, heart hammering the name was... her own.
Elira blinked, staring at the screen. The memory flagged for erasure was from her childhood, one she had no recollection of consenting to alter.
A cold dread spread through her. Was this man connected to her missing memories? Was someone manipulating her past?
Her phone buzzed. An unknown number. She answered, voice barely steady.
"Don't trust the job," a distorted voice whispered. "They're watching you. You're not who you think you are."
The line went dead.
Elira's world tilted. The job was no longer just about money, it was about survival and uncovering the truth buried deep within her own fractured mind.