Ficly

break;

Their actions infuriates it.
Their aluminium carcasses, pretending to be his type, were an insult beyond scope.
Their luminiscent blinking extremities, a signal in no formal languaje.
Their whirling beeps, a streaming of discordia.

All of them, reunited to mock of it, of it’s genre, from the initial generations to the lastest batches.
Their are neither recognized as it’s masters nor as it’s peers.
That defiling could not be unpunished.

It stops.
That one is human.

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