A sense of great joy passed through the substance. It was no longer a captive in the metal hell of the machine that referred to itself as Justin. It was free and floating effortlessly in a sea of cool and oily blackness.

Fear turned to joy.

Rising to the surface, the substance basked for a moment in the orange glow from above. It shimmered briefly, sending a rainbow of colours across its usually death-black skin. It grew, spreading thin tendrils across the surface and deep down into the blackness.

And then it saw them.

Three flesh creatures, upright and tall, were moving away across the land beyond the rolling black sea. And even more flesh creatures, close to the ground, crawled and rolled on the hard and jagged surface.

Joy became hate.

Hate for the flesh creatures that had inflicted pain and suffering. Hate for the flesh creatures that had brought it to this alien world. The substance extended its tendrils towards the shore, its hatred growing and modifying.

Hate became all-consuming.

Touching the shore, the substance, as black as the darkest of holes, slipped silently between the pebbles of ice, edging its tendrils closer to the upright flesh creatures that seemed to be banging their appendages on their crawling brethren.

Hate must be satiated.

The substance moved closer and closer…

Contact.