1/24/2024 0 Comments Garden story update![]() But the Machine Orthodoxy was growing and expanding rapidly. She had no doubt they would do an admirable job. Norn had considered letting the vat priests and splicers begin this Mirran's alterations while she addressed the assembly. Humans were such flawed and fragile things. She cried out, her arms and legs, lashed together, stiffening as blood blossomed from the wound Norn had made. The flesh beneath her long, clawed fingers was pitiably weak, and she merely tightened her grip to subdue her. The top of the woman's dark, tangled hair barely came to Norn's shoulder. How could anybody deny the beauty of this? The rightness? The absolute truth?Īnd yet, the Mirran she held before her still struggled. The distant chanting of Phyrexian prayers, hundreds of voices synchronized, flowed around it all. They were her adopted children, captured from opposing armies, those once poor, pitiable creatures who had lived so long covered in vile, unaltered skin, now idealized with mechanical parts. They were her people, grown in birthing pods. The Phyrexian faithful, their mechanically altered faces upturned toward her, their consciousness woven through her own, were eager for her to speak. Crimson banners waved from bridges and turrets, stark against the gleaming structures and flagstones of the courtyard. Here were the emblems of the might she had facilitated: the Fair Basilica, its towers, its metal spires like porcelain, grand cathedrals arching skyward, winding, delicate, and airy. When she looked out over the gathering of Phyrexians from her dais, her armor gleaming in the milky light, Norn had never been surer of it. The Machine Orthodoxy was the only path to ultimate unification, a path as pure and infallible and undeniable as her own glistening oil. Here, there is blessing."Īs she said it, her synthesized voice echoing over the Fair Basilica's courtyard, Elesh Norn, Phyrexian regent and Mother of Machines, felt the light of that truth deep within her sacred, mechanized body. "Here, in the Machine Orthodoxy, there is perfection.
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