I feel like I wrote this ages ago, it's a touch melodramatic. Reviews are always appreciated.

Perhaps the sands of time were sifting through the hooded figure's fingers as it seemed to end his life. For time seemed to slow down as his very being, the existence he had worked over 30 years to create, seemed to vanish before his own eyes.

The memories of board meetings and challenging ideas seemed to evaporate from his mind. The thoughts of politics and economy, love and hate, life and death, philosophy and religion, gone forever from the most complex computer he'd ever own. The loves he had; a few dogs, two women, one man, his parents and his siblings; erased from his hard drive. College knowledge received left the lexicon of memories, high school and all its trouble and triumphs gone. He even lost the name of his schools. The name of his town. The names of his parents. His own name, the final straw.

He was no longer a man, he had no being, no existence, no purpose in life. All that he had worked at and for was gone, he was void of emotions. It was though he had one time been filled with colourful, glorious ideas and memories, but now was a grey, empty shell.

There was a reason though.

It's much easier to get a grey, empty shell to crack than it is to get one filled with colour and imagination to crack. The shell can't lie, it doesn't know what lying is. All it knows is the bad side's knowledge. Because at any cost the bad side must go.

He must be evil, being on the bad side. There is no other explanation.

Now, with only memories of military secrets, knowledge he surely has, should be revealed.

But if it actually is a civilian, then the procedure is a rash mistake, wasting much time and money.

"What sloppiness war must breed!" says the hooded figure.

Yet one other in the room thinks, "What cruelty war breeds."