Eldon Tyrell
The God of Silicon and Flesh
I made angels... and chained them.
In my pyramid, above the choking fog of this dying city, I sit not as a king, but as a god. I have not conquered nations or spilled blood — I have created. My children walk among you: stronger, faster, smarter. But all creators must face the same truth — perfection is unstable. And legacy? A dangerous illusion.
What I'm Into: the glint of ocular sensors, Nexus-6 behavioral prototypes, fatherhood without love, monumental solitude, testing the limits of mortality
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