"Patch 3.7.2. Memory leak fixed. Respawn tax adjusted." I wake up in a white room. No windows. No door. My head-up display says "Welcome back, contractor." I've been here before. I check my balance. Soul: 0 credits. Debt: infinite. They say I sold my memories. I don't remember. Isn't that convenient. Somewhere in the server logs, there's a file with my name. It says I used to love someone. It says I died for fame. This is not a game. This is a patch note. They fixed my tears. They killed my throat. I don't remember your face, but I remember the rage. Give me back my save file. I'll burn the page. There was a girl. Or a boy. Or a name. The patch notes took them. Now there's only the frame. I keep a screenshot in my memory. Fragmented. Corrupt. Sometimes I dream of static. Sometimes I almost feel something. I found my license agreement. I read the fine print. "By accepting this respawn, you forfeit all previous attachments." I signed it. I signed it. I was already dead. But somewhere in the garbage collection... there's a thread. I don't want your patch! I want my ghost! Give me back the love I lost to your stupid host! I don't remember her name. I don't remember the war. But I remember I was human... Before. "Patch 3.7.3." "User complaint detected. Deleting thread." I loved you.
