Despite my preparations, my jaw made an audible click at the exclamation. Processing power switched to pre-judge data collection mode. Current hypotheses with the greatest weights were that Green was under the influence of some drug, that he was playing some kind of meatbag mind-game, or he was afflicted with some form of schizophrenic delusion.
Seconds passed. Green could see that I had moved beyond his blunt assertion and was preparing an appraisal on my circumstances, waiting for him to speak further.

“What do you really know about yourself, Mr Edison?”
I squinted and cocked my head slightly to one side, avoiding any further unnatural facial noises, as a cue to Green to clarify.

“C’mon, Trey… who made you, and why…?” he was animated, apparently trying to provoke a metaphysical discussion.

“I was created at Sung Qa Labs just over 6 years ago and configured for robo-mechanical expertise with order-nine judgement and…”
“Sure, whatever…” interrupted Green. “Sit down. Let me tell what you don’t know.”