No tome in human history would grant us the language to describe what transpired next. As we floated deeper, suspended in black – our thoughts became soluble and dissolute as our consciousness was folded into the vast hive-mind of this Machina Arcana. It was through her eyes now we saw our bodies come to rest upon yet another bewildering plane of iron and flesh, and it was with her hand at our backs we realised what we yet had to relinquish.

In an almost hypnotic act of genuflection we watched as our former selves discarded their apparel. First their arms, then their very vestments - until they stood before the immense pulsating core of the machine, as naked as the day they were born. As these final relics of human concern were cast aside we were flooded with the memories, knowledge, obscene intellect and animal purpose of our new existence.

As we had become one with her, so now we acted through her. Her physical form was ours to bend and manifest. The world we straddled was now a potter’s wheel, and the grand colonnades of this cathedral our clay.