It was the mask.
At least, that's what it started out as. A mask. A solid silver perfection which revealed everything.
But not about me.
When I first started recruiting, I had already decided to throw away who I was and become what I am; a reflection of them. Of those people who have lost hope in a system designed to work against them. A world that was passively fine with being mediocre to the lower classes instead of striving constantly for perfection. I showed them who they were, who they could be. In the reflection of the cold silver, I brought their outrage and their fear to the surface.
And like lambs, they followed me.
Followed my orders to retreat and to attack. Hung on my every world. Giving up their lives and their future for any dream or delusion I had that week.
That was the problem; although I suppose I didn't realize it until later. I had gotten so used to being in command. Of being a shepherd. If the entire bible had been written with goats instead of sheep, perhap