Personality Oblivion Novels & Stories

The documentation was brutal. "Subject 17 believes she's three people simultaneously herself, a confederation diplomat who died in 2089, and someone whose identity we haven't been able to trace. She has memories of events she never witnessed, skills she never learned, trauma she never experienced. She doesn't know who she is anymore." More images. More devastation. "Subject 31 lost his original identity entirely. The quantum patterns overwrote his neural structures. The person he was is gone. What remains is a consciousness cobbled together from artifact fragments, wearing his body, mourning a life it remembers but never actually lived."

“It's not safe for you to be here, WITH THEM. I’m an old man, far passed his glory days. I don't think I'd be able to protect you if they decided to… you know?” “Well I'm not leaving anytime soon. And you can tell them I said that!” “Please keep your voice do—” “D’ya hear that, you privileged pussies!” I hurl the comment loud enough to reach its target. Like hell I care about some seething Omegas. My dumb metabolism won't let me get drunk, and my brain won't stop flashing me with pictures of the far from normal day I just had. I couldn't give two shits about some muttering delinquents.

Great. Haru, like me, has a fucked-up, shattered mind. But while I detach and numb myself to everything, she escapes reality entirely. I think the fancy term is Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. I haven’t looked into it deeply, but it was weird seeing my best friend’s personality change from time to time, so I did some research. She has three different personalities. Unlike typical cases, or so I’ve read, she remembers what she does when she’s someone else.

My chest tightened sharply. Across the network. similar grief emerged everywhere. People remembering earlier selves with strange tenderness. The version that loved without caution. The version that trusted more easily. The version untouched by betrayal yet. Untouched by loss. Untouched by understanding. I exhaled slowly. And beneath every memory lived the same haunting realization: I can never fully become that person again. My chest tightened. Because awareness was irreversible. Once consciousness expanded. it could not comfortably shrink back into older forms. Even healing did not restore innocence completely.

I’m sure of it… And while my blood boiled as I searched my mind for a way to kill that damn Katerina, I felt a body collapse into my arms and a sorrowful wail pierce my ears, shaking my sanity… “Gabi… I… I’m sorry… they said… you’re a hybrid, and… sorry for leaving you there… I…” “…..” My breathing quickened and my eyes widened completely, unable to calm her down… Gabi? Hybrid?! Don’t tell me that damn necklace contains memories from that cursed day?! No, no, no, not now, no!! I couldn’t take it anymore, please stop, don’t speak!!! I was going insane… I used my magic, careful not to hurt her, calming her emotions and erasing from her memory what she saw in the dream and her encounter with Ka

A trace of bitterness was emanating and spreading… ‘Haydn Soros, do you really have a clue what kind of person I am? ‘Do you even know if I–the person standing in front of you, the person you’re confessing to–am a true living person with a mind and body? Or maybe, I’m just a living dead on earth who still carries my external shell and soul with me yet has forever sunk into depravity, never to see the light again? ‘Do you really know my identity, the things I’ve done, and the responsibilities I carry? ‘Do you really think a person like me… can still desire happiness?’

“A long time ago, when Lorenzo was nine, he was sexually abused by his bloody uncle. Because of that, he began to have constant nightmares and many hallucinations, he always woke up screaming, asking for help, as if that wretch was doing it all over again with him. I widen my eyes, doubly surprised. First, because he is speaking in the third person, and second, because he knows that Lorenzo was abused. '' Because of that trauma, Lorenzo ended up developing another personality, a strong personality to protect him from all harm, he was weak and very sensitive, so I started to take his conscience, getting in control. He turns around, looking me in the eye. “Nice to meet you, Elisabeth. My name

The warmth in his chest turned into a block of ice. Elias’s eyes, which had been mercury-white, suddenly turned a flat, matte black. His silver hair lost its shine, becoming the color of cold ash. The Void-Alpha State: Attributes: Complete emotional detachment, zero magical signature, immunity to energy-drain. The Cost: Loss of identity. The user becomes a "Living Null." Risk: If the state lasts more than one hour, the user’s soul will dissipate into the atmosphere. He didn't feel sad. He didn't feel angry. He didn't even feel like "Elias." He was just a weapon.

"The last of the 'Grey' has been absorbed into the violet. There are no more borders in the mind, no more dark corners where the 'Standard' can hide." "The price was high, Avery," Tommy said, standing a few feet back. He held a spectral analyzer that showed a perfect, flat line of emotional stability stretching from New York to Singapore. "We lost twelve people in the Nevada Void. They died for a philosophy of 'Self' that the world’s biology no longer supports. They died as individuals in a world that has chosen the collective."

They chased ghosts and clung to shadows, mistaking them for solace. And Johnny was drunk enough to forget where he ended and his worst habits began, the self-destructive patterns that had de!ned so much of his life. He'd spent solong wrestling with the darkness inside him that sometimes he forgot how to !ght. The Hollow, once a haven, now felt like a trap closing around him. The last few patrons were trickling out, their laughter and chatter fading into the night. The lights dimmed, casting long, suggestive shadows across the room, chairs were tipped up onto the sticky table tops. But he stayed, rooted to the spot by a toxic cocktail of alcohol and a deep-seated weakness.