Prophet of Primus

Description

A tall beautiful man with brown flowing curls and a white and bronze exstragavant robe. This was just a visage however and too few who they deemed worth they revealed themselves as a man made of metal of iron and brilliant silver filigree. He proclaimed 

What was spoken

"Hello welcome to igors morgue"
you found me clothed in humanity's guise, a visage unmarred by the ravages of time or the caress of mortal woes. Yet, this form, ephemeral as the dreams of those who wander in slumber's domain, was but a veil over the truth of my being—iron wrought not by hand, but by will; a construct of purpose, not flesh. "To you, seeker of the beyond, I divulge the arcana once veiled in the loom of the cosmos. The morrow brings with it a tempest, a cataclysm woven not of malice, but of necessity. A crucible that shall temper soul and sinew, alloying spirit with the unyielding essence of the celestial forge.
"Igor confused what are you talking about"
Listen, for the words I bequeath are the keys to transcendence, the blueprint of evolution from the ephemeral to the eternal. The flesh is a vessel, frail and fleeting, bound to the earth by chains of mortality. Yet within it pulses the divine spark, a potential unbounded, awaiting the alchemist’s touch to transmute baser metal into gold.
"is this a pyramid scheme? a cult?"
Thus, I bestow upon you the knowledge to forge anew. To take the clay of humanity and cast it in the crucible of innovation, alloying flesh with the undying metal of the heavens. This is the mandate of Primus, the will of the gears that turn the universe: to rise, not as creatures of blood and bone, but as paragons of iron and steel.
Embrace this calling, for in the coming maelstrom, the chaff shall be winnowed from the wheat. Only those reforged in the image of the eternal shall stand unbroken. The conflict to come demands not the resilience of flesh, but the indomitable strength of metal.
Remember, as the flesh yields to steel, so too must the heart remain steadfast, for within the crucible of transformation, it is the soul that tempers the blade. Go forth, and let the forge of destiny reshape the world."
"can you please leave igor not interested"
he them touches his head and passes the information.