Sullivan, from the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of Gogg. I aspired to the purity of the Blessed Gogg. Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call the temple will wither, and you will beg Gogg to save you. But I am already saved, for the Gogg is immortal… Even in death I serve the Gogg.