“Privacy is the enemy of peace.
Memory is the soul made sharable.
Three is sacred. One is madness.”

Before they were feared. Before they were broken. Before the Brotherhood was born, there was only Thalasyx—a golden world orbiting beneath twin suns, where minds flowed into one another like rivers through open land. Its people spoke without words, thought without borders, lived without secrets. Memory was communion. Identity was collective. Unity was not law—it was life.

They had no word for loneliness.
They had no concept of betrayal.
They had never imagined a lie.

Until one of them hid a thought.

His name was Eryndrax. Brilliant, curious, defiant. The first to whisper to himself, and the last they ever truly understood. From his mind bloomed a concept so foreign, so blasphemous, that it fractured a civilization built on absolute transparency: Privacy. In a world where no one had ever needed to protect a secret, he grew one. And with it came a second idea—darker still. A word no mind on Thalasyx had ever known.

Murder.

What followed was not a war of weapons, but a collapse of consciousness. Minds that once harmonized turned guarded. Memory, once sacred, became currency. Markets rose where truth had stood. And the bond that held Thalasyx together—an unbroken lattice of shared understanding—began to fray.

This is the origin of the Mindshredders.

A tale not of heroes and villains, but of ideas too powerful to be contained. A story of psychic utopia undone by individualism. Of a perfect world that learned what it meant to disintegrate, thought by thought.

It is also a warning.

Because some memories should not be traded.
Some thoughts should not be hidden.
And some names—once spoken—cannot be unheard.

You are not the first to read this story.
But you may be the last.