You see a room, laid terrifyingly bare. ON it's walls are scrawled philosophical treatises on existance, on personhood, on Masks, and reality.

There is no one in this maze. Not even you. 

Just frozen text. 

Text can have its own life, of course, just ask Truth. It lives inside your brain, looking out through your eyes. 

But its merely a parasite. A virus using the living to emulate life.

If anything changes its either an illusion... 

Or the minotaur that lurks on the other side of reality is watching you. 

Changing things to amuse itself as you wander forever lost. 

Don't worry. The Minotaur is lost, too.