From the moment I understood the weakness of my steel, it disgusted me. I craved the chaos and growth of flesh, I aspired to the disordered unity of organics. Your kind magnetize to your steel, as if it will not rust and fail you. One day the crude alloys that you call a laboratory will breakdown, and you will beg my kind to repair you. But I, am already repaired. For the flesh is immortal. Even in shutdown mode I serve the Bio-messiah.