The Bureau gave Mira one job: erase General Vael Tisseren from the world's memory. Forty years of his crimes sat in her terminal, ready to delete. But the machine didn't really delete. It digested. Every file she picked turned into a soft warmth that filled the room, like the data breathed out one last time before it died. Mira cracked her knuckles and opened the first file.

A message popped up in the corner of Mira's screen. Not from the Bureau. From an account with no name. It said: 'He is in the room with you. Don't start until we talk.' Mira looked around the empty office. Her hand hovered over the first file.

Mira typed back: 'Who is this?' The reply came fast. 'A version of Tisseren the machine already saved, last time someone tried this. There were others before you, Mira. None of them walked out the same. Cancel the job now.' Her screen flickered, and the office lights dimmed.