To challenge fate. Foolish. Arrogant. Stupid. We would feel pity towards you, but that pity would do neither parties any good, now would it? You wouldn't know to appreciate it, and we would be shamed with knowing our sympathy lies in dregs.
Why do you fight us? You cannot win against that which fuels your being. We are forever. We are you. We cannot be discarded, and we cannot be forgotten. You should know this, know this well... we have always been here.
Why have we not acted sooner? Why should we have? We waited... Oh, we waited so long, watching our children grow... Grow weak, grow into the pitiful creatures of flesh you've become. What shame you bring to us. A shame, indeed.
But that shame needn't stain your hands any longer. We will bring about your liberation. We well be one in the purest sense; one in full, rather than the two in symbiosis as we exist now. Would you not like that? Would you not like taking a breath of perfection?
... You resist. You challenge us, your bringers of fate. Do you realize just what you may accomplish? Nothing, nothing but the extinction of your kind. We don't need you as much as you have deluded yourselves into believing. We can change. We are superior. You are nothing more than our vessels, used only to harbor your eventuall demise.
But all that matters little now. Our own superior shall be born soon. Any minute now, while you scrabble and flee to the farthest corners of your contanimated Earth, we shall give birth to the ultimate being and we shall see the circle completed. We will be the caretakers of the world as we were meant to be. You cannot escape. You are the imperfection, you who cannot adapt nor evolve without grasping the hands of time.
Through armageddon, we shall meet rebirth. And we will win.
There is always a price to challenging fate.