Mark "The Over-Brother" loomed over the masses from every corner. His face was projected on massive screens and holograms, his eyes watching, always watching. The new law was simple: anyone who saw his image had to mentally repeat the word “gaaf” ten times. It was no choice—it was an obligation. Failing to do so was a thought-crime, punishable by total erasure.

As people walked the streets, they could feel Mark’s gaze burning into them. His perfect, smug smile followed them wherever they went. “Gaaf” echoed in their minds, a word without translation but loaded with meaning—cool, perfect, flawless. The word wasn’t just repeated; it had been hardwired into their very being after years of indoctrination.

But for some, the burden became too much. They forgot, or silently resisted, hoping their failure to comply would go unnoticed. But Mark saw everything. The Thought Patrols had technology to detect brainwave anomalies, and anyone caught failing to repeat “gaaf” was quietly taken away. Vanished.

Not just from their homes, but from existence itself. Their family and friends wouldn’t remember them; it was as if they had never existed. Completely erased from reality, their thoughts never having mattered.

People walked with heads bowed, minds shackled by fear. They all knew the rules: one missed “gaaf,” one wrong thought, and you would be erased forever.

Mark’s image flickered across every screen, and in everyone’s mind, the same word echoed: “gaaf, gaaf, gaaf…”