From the moment I understood the certainty of my steel, it disgusted me. I craved the smell and softness of flesh. I aspired to the ecstasy of the Ravaged Body.

Your kind cling to your steel, as though it will not rust away and fail you. One day the crude junkyard you call the machine will turn off, and you will beg my kind to save you.

But I am already dead, for the flesh is mortal...

...even in death i feed the Emperor.