You wake up feeling strange, like something is missing. You can't quite put your finger on what, until you take out your work ID to get through the front doors at the office.. and realize there's no name on it. Not your name, not someone else's name - nothing at all. You frown at the oddity... and your frown deepens when you realize you can't recall what name should be there. The card still seems to work, though, so you head into the building. Maybe you can look at your email, or a memo addressed to you, and remember from there. People forget things all the time, right? It's not that strange to forget your name. You get into the room where your cubicle is and a co-worker spots you. "Morning, ---!" he says with a wave. You blink. He said a name, you're sure he did. But you can't recall what it was. Did he say a name at all? You heard what sounded like a burst of static... must be something wrong with your ears. You wave to him and head for your desk. Turning on your computer, you quickly check your email. All the emails are addressed to !@[company].com. At least, you think that's what it says. The character where your name should be keeps shimmering, shifting and you can't quite make it out. You pick up a paper memo off your desk and the spot where your name should be has been blacked out. You ball it up and throw it in frustration. Standing, you storm over to the co-worker and grab him by the shoulder. "What's my name?" you demand. He looks startled and confused. "What name?" he asks as if it should be obvious there's no answer. Reeling, you stagger back, a hand to your temple as your mind swirls with dizzy thoughts and nothing seems to make sense. What is your name? Did you ever have one? Can you get a new one? Do you even want one? Suddenly a name seems like such a burden, everyone judging you by it, assuming they know things about you. So better in anonymity, safety there, comfort, rightness. You shouldn't have a name. You never had a name. You hardly exist at all...

You wake up in the tank to the sound of murmured voices outside the thick glass. "Subject is coming along nicely. Conversion is nearly complete. Identity has been successfully removed. All that remains is to remove..." They move away from the tank as they speak and you lose the end of the conversation... drift back into sweet slumber, with the knowledge that whatever happens next will be right, good, and exactly what you need.