The bot opened its eyes, pupils moving around.
"Where am I?" it said, twitching and struggling against its restraints. Its optics flicked back and forth in the room, fearful.
It quivered gently, seemingly trapped in its own body.
"You have just been created," a voice said, echoing around the room.
The bot saw itself, in the mirror, wishing that it could feel its face, pinch its arm, realize it was just a dream and wake up.
Of course, it had no sense of touch. That was by design.
"I had... I had children, and a wife, and a house. What do you mean I've just been created?"
Quiet, menacing laughter: "Your vessel, of course. We have taken the liberty of transporting your mind into an android. You are still alive."
It remembered: the car crash. Fading. Watching his children die. Seeing its wife, mangled by the windshield, lying just outside.
It would have been sobbing if it could've, but the bot had no tear ducts. This was by design.
"Give me back my children," it whispered.
"Sir, we know your secret. You are a spy. We found it when we scanned your mind."
He winced, but remembered that he'd been caught before. Waterboarding wasn't usually too bad, he supposed. He'd been through it all.
"Luckily, we've figured out a new way to pry out the information."
A pause. "Just remember that you deserve this, you bitch."
The bot then found out, very well, that it could not touch, but it could feel pain.
Lots of it.
This was by design.