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.
Bass drop followed by organ synth music
You will be Amazoned. Resistance is futile.
Might as well upload our brains to a robot arm on an assembly line.
It’s fun to think about which scifi horror hellhole our future will be. This is more “I have no mouth and must scream”
we will, we will,
rend you apart
There’s something so cozy about pixel art. Brings me back to the mid 90s, playing ancient DOS adventure games in my buddy’s attic
Rimworld is leaking
Long live the new flesh
