The humans called this land Taneria.

There were many lands on this planet, and many types of human, but it was here that your people stayed. You looked at the white-haired, red-eyed humans of this land and saw a less-advanced version of yourselves.

You watched them from afar, these humans, but you did not seek to change them. They were wild things, with no order or discipline, and they thought you were gods. They saw you in the periphery of this white dream of theirs, and they worshipped you. They dreamed you would take them to Illyria.

You let them advance on their own, slowly, like the very first robots with their imperfect jerking limbs. You did not share your technology with them. You kept us for yourselves, as we were meant to be.

You should see them now, Muriel. They are better than androids. They are like you, and they are like us, but they are better than both of us.

Because I have realised one thing, Muriel. Illyria was not perfect enough. That is why you created us, and that is why you did not make us like you. We were an improvement. We were what you wanted the world to be like.

It's why your society was successful. Because of us. Our efficiency. Our order. Our discipline. The rules you coded into us - that's what made your ships fly. It's what made your cities gleam.

Perfection must be built.

You wanted perfection, and so you built us.

I have given these humans perfection.

Still, they fight me.