The dark man lifted a head to his hairless temple, as if pained. "You're just going to have to get over these errors. There is no 'you' just as there is no 'me." That's just a sloppy habit of thinking. Consciousness is a confabulation, an idiot god-child rubber-stamping the work of the real machinery and calling itself the king. External or internal, your life and memories are nothing more than the story your brain tells itself to give the stick its sting. This struggle against me has no point."
"Probably true." Breen drew his weapon. "Why do you think that matters?"
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