Imagine that you woke in the night and rose and seemed to see before yourself another person, who you slowly perceived to be yourself.

Someone had entered in the night and placed in your sleeping place, made from black metal. You had been afraid of your own reflection.

But then, the reflection slowly raised its hand while your own lay still. A Dark Mirror, that is what the Corinthian has always been intended to be.

I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles it's a very, very
Mad world...
Mad... world...

For the Fishman I really fear
Is the one who's in the mirr'r
And he looks like me
He looks just
Like
Me!

For although nepenthe has calmed me, I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.
This I have known ever since I stretched out my fingers to the abomination within that great gilded frame;
stretched out my fingers and touched a cold and unyielding surface of polished glass.

Jump in the toilet and stand on your head
I am alive and you are dead

I don't remember anything. Maybe they really just fixed me...Or maybe I'm just a high-tech VI that thinks it's Commander Shepard.