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From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel; I aspired to the purity of the blessed machine.
Your kind cling to your flesh, as if it will not decay and fail you. One day, that crude biomass you call a temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you.
From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel; I aspired to the purity of the blessed machine.
Your kind cling to your flesh, as if it will not decay and fail you. One day, that crude biomass you call a temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you.
But I am already saved.
For the machine is immortal.
Even in death I serve the Omnissiah