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 the 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.