Echoes Of The Mind

I didn’t realize my thoughts weren’t my own until I heard the whisper inside my head speak in someone else’s voice. Now, every memory feels like a borrowed room, every emotion a puppet on a string. The doctors call it dissociative psychosis. I call it invasion. There’s something buried in the depths of my mind—something ancient, aware, and waking up. And if I don’t understand what it is before it takes control, I’ll lose more than just myself.

Echoes Of The Mind

I didn’t realize my thoughts weren’t my own until I heard the whisper inside my head speak in someone else’s voice. Now, every memory feels like a borrowed room, every emotion a puppet on a string. The doctors call it dissociative psychosis. I call it invasion. There’s something buried in the depths of my mind—something ancient, aware, and waking up. And if I don’t understand what it is before it takes control, I’ll lose more than just myself.

I woke up screaming again, but it wasn’t my voice coming out.

The words were in Latin, fluid and precise, and my hands moved on their own, sketching symbols in the air that glowed faintly before fading. My apartment was dark, the city hum below muffled as if underwater. I checked the neural monitor—off the charts. Red warnings pulsed across the screen: COGNITIVE ANOMALY DETECTED. CONTAINMENT BREACH IMMINENT.

Then the voice returned, calm this time, inside my skull like a shared breath. You’re not broken, it said. You’re upgrading.

My fingers hovered over the emergency purge button—the one that could wipe my implant, maybe my memories, maybe me. But outside, sirens wailed. NeuroGuard drones streaked past the window, scanning for unstable hosts. If I wiped now, I’d forget everything leading to this moment. If I didn’t, the thing inside might take over for good.