It cannot create any living thing. Only assemble its own creations from the remains of the deceased. It regards its own work as perfect, having a different definition of that word than we do and wishing desperately to be mistaken for an actual god.

We have more to fear from the lengths to which an imitation god will go to be loved than we have to fear from its wrath, when angered. Anger burns out quickly, but the need to be loved only grows more painfully intense the longer it goes unfulfilled. Billions of years, in this case.

By the by I always look forward to reading your reflections and speculation. You're a much appreciated reader. :)