It is night. J walks the intermittently lit streets of the city. He is not thinking anything in particular. Thoughts flit randomly across the landscape of his weary mind. It has been a tough day. Not so much tiring as wearying. He is searching for the answer to a very important question. It is a logic-altering question. One that has plagued perhaps every mind since the dawn of time: identity. What is it? Does something like a true identity exist? However, he is not really thinking. The thought is running in a constant rhythm through his mind, much as the drone of a machine. A few steps ahead. A streetlight is flickering on and off. Each state endures for a few seconds and is accompanied by an unusual rustling noise. J is intrigued. He walks until he is directly beneath the light. There is an alleyway leading off to the right. By the light of the flickering lamp he is able to discern a human shape seated on a pile of nondescript boxes. He stands still and waits for the next flash of i
The sentry looks out from his tower: "Quo Vadis?"