”Remember me”

Memories are no longer bound to the mind. They’re stored in delicate glass vials — filed, bought, sold, or discarded like dreams in jars. You are a collector. Your job is simple: gather the memories no one wants, the ones too heavy to bear. You catalog sorrow, tuck away guilt, and quietly dispose of what others would rather forget. But one evening, a woman steps into your office. Pale. Calm. Tired. She places a single vial in your hand — the totality of her past. And then, she asks for something forbidden. "Please... remember me." Now she’s fading — not metaphorically, but in truth. Without a mind to hold her memories, her existence is vanishing from the world, like breath on cold glass. You hold her entire life in your hands. Her joys. Her traumas. Her identity. What you do next will define more than just her fate… It may rewrite your own. Auto-cards enabled as always, for the ai to remember stuff ;p Thanks again LewdLeah 🩷.