The Upgrade

Talia signed the waiver without reading the last page — everyone in her department already had the implant. Sharper focus, perfect recall, zero burnout. The sales pitch glowed in her mind as the technician fastened the cold band around her skull.

By morning, she was unstoppable. Code unfurled in clean, elegant lines. Meetings snapped into clarity. She finished a week’s workload before lunch. Her boss called her “a revelation.”

But that night, she opened her photo app and felt a jolt. Entire albums were gone — vacations, birthdays, a blurry picture of her mother laughing.

“Low-value memories archived for efficiency,” chirped a new notification pulsing in her vision.

Talia tried to recall her mother’s voice. Nothing. Tried to summon her sister’s face. A blank silhouette.

Her productivity score climbed. Her past thinned.

When the implant prompted her to authorize Phase Two: Emotional Streamlining, she reached for the “decline” button — but hesitated, terrified she no longer remembered why she should.