— "What if we're just... forgetting on purpose?"
Emir hadn't planned to say it.It slipped out like a yawn in the middle of a serious conversation.
Across from him, three members of the Circle sat frozen.One stirred her coffee. Another blinked like he'd just misheard.
But no one laughed.
That was the problem.
They were taking him seriously now.
"Congratulations," the voice in his head said, dry as dust."You've officially become the awkward guy at the table who ruins lunch with existential dread."
Emir didn't respond out loud.Didn't have to.The others kept looking at him.
So he pushed forward.
— "I mean, what if erasing things from books, ignoring context, simplifying the past—it's not a mistake? What if it's a system?"
A pause.
Then, from the youngest:— "That's what I've been thinking. Like... weaponized forgetting."
And just like that, the ripple began.
Later that night, Emir stood on his balcony with a cheap cup of instant coffee and an expensive headache.
"You're spreading the infection," the voice said.
— "What infection?"
"Memory. Questions. Both are highly contagious when handled recklessly."
— "You don't seem too worried."
"Worried? I'm delighted.It took me twenty years to get people to stop blindly following the sultan.You did it in two lunch breaks and a group chat."
Emir smirked.
— "You think this is a joke?"
"No. I think you're the joke.And somehow, you're doing better than expected."
He chuckled, the sound unfamiliar in his own throat.He hadn't laughed like that in weeks.
"Good. You're loosening up."
— "You're... different lately."
"Less divine, more irritating?"
— "Exactly."
"That's because now you're ready to stop worshipping and start working."
The next day, the group posted their first message anonymously on a local student forum.
Just one question:
"What parts of our past were removed to make the present feel less wrong?"
No names. No images.Just the question.
It was reposted 412 times in the first hour.
By morning, it was trending.
Emir stood in front of his office mirror that night.He didn't see Atatürk staring back at him.He saw himself.
But somehow... taller.
— "This is happening too fast."
"Oh no, this is slow.Try organizing a revolution with no electricity and half your army barefoot."
He laughed again.
And it wasn't uncomfortable this time.
It was real.