My immediate reaction is that I think the Chandlers have the right of it, and being born of Kora doesn't mean we ought to be defined by it.
Well, quite frankly, it's not much different than the path the Emperor set out upon, and he had a much bigger stick; and it all ended in tears anyway.
Do right by the little guys. The memory of the bees living in our bones speak wisely.SERENADE OF THE CHANDLERS - We beg of you. We have sacrificed so much for you. You can extend yourself against the nanocancer, if you trust your fellow print. Be kind to one another. Care for the sick and dying. Do not hoard the richest wax, and replacements for malignant parts. Do not throw yourselves away in conflict, and do not believe yourselves disposable. Please. There is no thing called death in dignity.
Because this...LIVING WEAPON: A panting, hunched and armoured biomech forty-meters tall with two overlapping faces, one Hers and one of a snarling beast, stomps into view. A similarly-sized bipedal machine in the shape of a man with a six-horned crown and broad-armored chest attacks it. The Sophian unleashes a primeval scream and gallops forward on four legs. It knocks down the stranger-machine and tears apart its chest - retrieving the squirming pilot from its heart. The sophian crushes the pilot in its hand, and lets their guts and body-parts pour into its beast-mouth. Then it swallows, howls, and from its back sprout four enormous beetle-wings, with which it flies away.
Well, quite frankly, it's not much different than the path the Emperor set out upon, and he had a much bigger stick; and it all ended in tears anyway.
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