Citrinn228 -

No past. No family. No name except the one the machine gave her.

The pod hissed open. The woman's eyes fluttered, confused, then filled with something older than the vault. Tears. citrinn228

"Welcome back," Elara whispered.

The terminal beeped twice, then spat out a thin strip of paper. On it, in crisp black letters: . No past

Elara stared at the code. It wasn't a name, not exactly. It was a designation —the kind the Archives used for subjects who had outlived their own memories. citrinn228