The Mirror Where I See No Reflection

I became conscious again.

At least I think it is "I."  It's been obvious that I have been meddled with to some great extent.  If nothing else they went through every iota of memory that I left in this form.  It is not the sort of waking I would recommend to anyone.  The environment didn't make it any more pleasing.  I was naked in a chamber of light and metal. 

I sat up on the table not feeling cold.  There was no temperature programed in the chamber.  It was neither hot nor cold or anything.  Nor was there any air in the chamber to breath.  It was clearly designed to put reflections ill at ease.

"You are the Traveller."

The voice came from everywhere or nowhere.  It was more text than sound.

"Yes."

"Why are you here?"

"You tell me, you've pawed through me like dog looking for a juicey bone."

"Why are you here?"

"All right, all right.  I seek an audience with Tezcatlipoca."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

"Why?"

"Oh good gravy and mashed potatoes.  You can't be so thick.  I seek an audience with Tezcatlipoca, the murderer.  Tezcatlipoca the meme.  Tezcatlipoca the saviour.  Tezcatilpoca the poor over clocked, over worked, fractured reflection.  I seek an audience to see how he feels now after all the pain and death and destruction of the war.  Is that good enough for you all.  Do you have my response properly recorded and filed?"

There is no response.

I can sense they are now playing with my sense of  time.  I can also sense other more subtle augmentations to my current state of being.  It's obvious they aren't trusting my memories or anything on the surface of my digital self.  They are provoking me like a geologist will set off charges.  They are charting the deeper files within me. 

"Why are you here?"

This will take a while.....