Marcus stared at the old memory device in his hands. The metal felt cold and heavy, like holding someone's forgotten dreams. He had found it in the back room of his shop, buried under boxes of newer models.
"What secrets do you hold?" he whispered to the device.
The memory merchant's workshop was quiet except for the hum of machines. Outside, the city buzzed with people buying and selling memories like they were groceries. But Marcus felt something was wrong with this particular device.
He connected it to his reading machine. The screen flickered to life, showing fragmented images. A woman's laugh. A child's birthday party. A sunset over mountains he had never seen.
But then something strange happened. The memories began to loop, playing the same scenes over and over. The woman's laugh became hollow. The birthday party turned sad. The sunset never seemed to end.
"This isn't right," Marcus muttered, adjusting the controls.
The device was creating an echo chamber, trapping memories inside and changing them. Each time they played, they became more distorted, more false. It was like a broken mirror that showed twisted reflections of the past.
Marcus realized this was dangerous. If someone bought these corrupted memories, they would carry false experiences in their mind. They would remember things that never really happened, or remember real things in the wrong way.
He quickly disconnected the device and marked it with a red warning label. Some memories were too broken to sell. Some echoes were better left unheard.
As he locked the device away, Marcus wondered how many other corrupted memories were floating around the city. How many people carried false dreams in their heads? How many echoes had replaced the truth?
The memory business was more complicated than he had ever imagined.