A disarmingly familiar figure in a shroud.
“I have an updated briefing, sir.”
The polished executive assistant stood, upright, eyed fixed to the door, as the security turret weighed its options. “FRIENDLY! HOLD FIRE!” it decides. The double-reinforced blast doors sigh and groan as they heave themselves open, revealing an opulently furnished space preceding the Command Room.
“[REDACTED], please enter.”
The assistant opens a folio, and drags it onto the holographic digitizer. He dials his code, and begins to explain:
“We think [REDACTED] came from a piece of malicious code, but we can’t yet tell. So far, [REDACTED] has been a double-edged sword; causing nameless havoc in the enemy camp, but also causing some in ours as well,” said [REDACTED]. “Our men have begun to complain that they feel like they’re being constantly watched by somebody, or something. The men who have disappeared have still not been accounted for.”
“Well, whoever or whatever this [REDACTED] thing is, I want it under control, immediately. Is this not a piece of [REDACTED] equipment? Who is responsible for creating it?”
“[REDACTED], sir.”“Well, grab [REDACTED] and tell [REDACTED] to program it to use the fucking front door, instead.”
“Very good, sir. I’ll see to that immediately.”
“Oh, and [REDACTED]?”
“Make it stop breaking into my office.”
Who was the only one who stood up against you?
Whose family did you forge documents for that allowed their
Who did you witness doing something that still puts you off?
“Without a face or a voice to distinguish myself from others, how can I be sure that my thoughts and memories are only unique to me? How can I be sure of what forms me, and gives me consciousness? How can I be sure that I have a destiny?
Sure, one day, I could choose a face and a voice, and never change it again, but I’d know, deep down, that it is not me. I am only a shadow, a bit of dust in their eyes.
Me? I am only my actions. My purpose is to tell you something. I am present, not past. I am here, now."- Hū