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I’m just a magical skeleton piloting my meat mech
The meat’s whatever. The lipid computer is truly horrifying.
They’re made of meat!
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 though 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.
Our entire cultural infrastructure is there to deny we are meat and that we will rot but we are meat and we will rot and therein lies all of the unrest.
