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About
Snippet
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
the
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.
The replay is still saving.