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- "We are the Mother of Machines," she breathed and somewhere in the distance, that never-ending stream of Phyrexian prayers seemed to quaver and that low rumbling returned, deep and almost imperceptible. What had once felt like an affirmation of power and faith now seemed to resonate with doubt. A thousand Phyrexian minds trembled.
- She could not allow the Orthodoxy to fall prey to this alien sensation plaguing her. There had to be an explanation for all of this. An order to all of this.
- ***
- "Irrelevant." Norn felt her indignation rise. "The truths we see are beyond your understanding, Ashiok. We will not be cowed. We will not be a tool for your 'art.'" In a place deeper than any nightmare could ever penetrate, she felt the connection to her people, the collective of Phyrexia, joined together, the strength of that unity, an unstoppable force of thousands upon thousands of splendidly altered beings waiting for her command to strike.
- ***
- A GARDEN OF FLESH
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