Delete It Fat Novels & Stories

mp4. My heart hammered. "Is it... is it the video?" "Yes," Julian said. He moved his mouse over the Delete button. "Do it," I whispered. He clicked. File Deleted. Then he went to the command prompt and typed a series of complex commands. "Wiping the cloud backup. Erasing the source. Burning the server farm." A progress bar appeared on the screen. 45%... 60%... "We did it," I breathed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "It's over."

He raised his hand, and the white fire of the Hard-Purge accelerated. "**THE COST OF MAINTENANCE HAS EXCEEDED THE VALUE OF THE DATA,**" the Administrator’s synthesized voice announced. "**INITIATING: RECURSIVE DELETION.**" The math of the universe began to appear in the air around us, a terrifying cascade of LaTeX equations that described our unmaking: $$\lim_{t \to \infty} \text{Asset}(t) = 0$$ $$\text{Memory}_{\text{available}} < \sum_{i=1}^{n} \text{Soul}_i$$