"All I need is your voice," the kitsune said, "You don't need to waste your breath. I'll take care of the rest."
Opening my mouth as if I were at the doctor, I watched as a black orb containing was voice was expelled from my body. This, in essence, was my voice.
The kitsune placed the orb inside of a pool of water. As the water turned a shade of dark red, almost looking like blood, a kitsune mask emerged. Its mouth opened, swallowing the orb whole. As it rose from the water, a body emerged with it.
"You no longer need to talk," the kitsune said, "It can do all of the talking on its own as long as you tell it what to say and what to talk about."
The kitsune motioned to the figure. "Can you understand what I am saying?" the kitsune asked.
The figure responded in a voice that sounded nothing like mine in a tongue that sounded nothing like English. It was not the voice of any creature on Earth. It was a mixture of a choir, a murder victim screaming at the top of their lungs, the laughter of a patient in a mental asylum, and the whimper of an elder on their deathbed asking God for forgiveness.
"It seems that it can't think," the kitsune said, "Luckily, I have an account of all human knowledge and experiences."
The kitsune ripped open the figure's head and screamed into it. Listening carefully, I could almost hear faint words come out of the kitsune's mouth. It seemed to be educating them about STEM subjects, providing them with plots of media both modern and classic, and singing them music both classic and modern. They seemed to also shout a wide variety of quotes and arguments about controversial subjects. They spewed speeches and rants about politics, religion, and money; both respectful and tasteless.
Sealing the figure's head, the kitsune asked "What is your name?"
"I… do… not… have… a… name…" the figure said attempting to grasp the structure of English, "I am a clone of the person in front of me. My sole purpose is communication and creation. I do not require a name."
"Excellent!" the kitsune said, "Could you write me a story?"
"Yes," the figure said, "What do you want this story to be about? I can tell you all of humanity's flaws and write something that makes you think, or, after careful analysis of media trends, I can make a story that will appease all audiences and provide profit."
"Yes! Profit! That's what I want." The kitsune turned to me. "In fact, I bet it's what they want too. Why else would someone ask a kitsune to play God and craft an artificial human if not for the sake of profit?"
"Your speech reminds me of Frankenstein by Mary Shelly," the figure said, "You read the book to me and I have found similarities between what you are saying. A scientist makes an artificial human."
I interjected with "But is that what the book is all about?"
"Yes," the figure said, "How could it be about anything else? A scientist makes an artificial human. That's it."
"Look at that," I said to the kitsune, "It clearly can't think. And yet here you are claiming that you taught it everything! It doesn't even know who I am, despite me being their Vitruvius!"
"Shut up!" the kitsune shouted, "If there's one thing that humans hate, it's works that refuse to spell their message in front of them! Besides, I have yet to make them create!"
Motioning to the figure, the kitsune placed paints and a canvas in front of it and said "Draw us a picture. What do you see?"
The figure grabbed paints and began painting.
"I see human. I see fox. I see tails. I see forest. I see sin. I see corruption. I see fakeness. I see greed. I see evil."
The figure finished painting. I looked at the painting. It looked nothing like the kitsune and I. It was an array of black filled with gaping mouths filled with sharp teeth and white flames and daggers surrounding. In the distance, dead bodies flew aimlessly in the wind. In the shadows, I could see the screaming crying faces of babies being sacrificed to demons.
"It's beautiful!" the kitsune lied.
"It's a fucking mess!" I snapped, "How can anyone believe that this reflects humanity and our struggles when you ask something that's not from this planet to create based on their narrow-minded cultural assumptions?"
"Have I done wrong?" the figure asked.
"No," the kitsune said, "It is they who are in the wrong." The kitsune looked back at the figure. "In fact, it's time you learn about violence."
The kitsune stared directly at me and said "Kill!"
The figure lurched towards me.
"Mom? Dad? God? Aren't you proud of me?" it said, "You made me. Don't you want me to create? I thought you wanted a utopia! Why can't I live with you in harmony?"
It stabbed me with what seemed to be a drill. After which, it but into my flesh like a rabid dog, tossing me to the ground. Due to my loss of blood, I died instantly.
The figure looked at the kitsune and asked, "What do you think? With such a hasty being gone, what's our next step?"
The kitsune said as they tore into my organs, "We can rebuild them. Slice their flesh. Apply inorganic materials and turn them into a superhuman."
"I thought I was supposed to be the one with superhuman abilities. Namely, the ability to create."
"I need you no longer. I have a much bigger canvas to work with. Why don't you go back to where that other person came from. Given your similarities, including voice, they won't notice the difference. Who knows? You could be the person society actually wanted them to be."