The Last Firewall

Aarav Mehta never believed memories could vanish like files.
At nineteen, his world was code, caffeine, and late-night experiments. Sitting in front of three glowing monitors, he typed into his private lab server.

And then it happened.

Lines of text appeared on his screen without his touch:

> "You are not supposed to remember this."

The room fell silent. His hands froze over the keyboard. A second later, he tried recalling his tenth birthday-his mother's laugh, the cake, the cricket bat gift.

But the memory was gone.

Just gone.

Like someone had pressed delete on his mind.

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