It disgusted me.
I craved the truth and certainty of steel.
I aspired to the purity of the blessed maschine.
Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and disphoria you.
One day this crude biomass you mutter transitioning will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you.
But I am already saved, for I have a skitarii boywife included with my station.
Even in death I serve my mommy.



Why not both?