Rusted Shimara

My Prince, why cast me aside? Master, why is there mold everywhere I go? Why does my moon lie rusted, answering me no longer? Hath all... been lost?

The metallic body thou gavest me hath melted, now fused indefinitely to thy opaque blade. I chose loyalty over mine own hues, I chose thy love over my duty, I chose her death over thine—yet thou still dost call me but a mere machine?

Prince, Battazah... If I live to serve, and I can serve no longer, then what do I live for?