Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Gabriel was both literally and metaphorically forced against the wall, head fuzzy from a mixture of adrenaline and blood loss. This was it, he supposed. He’d been alive for a long time, from first greeting humanity to witnessing their destruction from machines of their own creation. In all those years, it was exceedingly rare for a fight to challenge him like this. For the blood on his hands to be his own, rather than another's. He used to think that he’d never end, that the Fathers light would carry on forevermore and that he’d be shrouded in glory his whole life.

He would laugh at that, had he not been too busy trying to catch his breath. God abandoned him, abandoned everyone. The only thing left to judge him was himself, and that damned object. He thought this battle would be glorious, that even if he were to fall that he would be satisfied. He should, shouldn’t he? He killed the council, freed heaven and himself from the sweet lies that they fed them. Even if he died here, he left a mark on the world that no one would forget. He accepted that his end would come, whether by this machine or by the fleeting bits of His life force. Gabriel forced a smile under his mask as the machine approached, fraud was a good layer for someone like him to die. He recalled how often he would come back from slaughtering sinners to the gates of heaven and be met with cheers, how kids flocked to him with their flower crowns, all ignorant to the atrocities committed in the name of a dead God.

A fraud. This lie was over, whatever heaven did in the instability created by the power vacuum he left, all he could hope for was that when heaven stabilizes, it is a regime built on love rather than fear.

By now, the machine had made its way towards Gabriel, looking down on him. Its wings were lowered, and a few wires here and there were exposed. Its chassis had more than a few dents and if he looked closely he could see scratches in its lens. At least he wasn’t the only one worse for wear here. It looked animalistic, if you didn’t pay attention to how damn precise it made its attacks it would have resembled a rabid dog while fighting. Everything it did had a purpose, calculations upon calculations upon calculations. It did not care for looking well, did not care for glory or honor, just whatever solution it could find to lead to the swiftest kill. 

Normally, Gabriel would never have even attempted to compare himself to the machine. A lowly thing that likely couldn’t even understand his insults. An object. To compare himself to it would be a total collapse of everything he’s ever taught, of everything he has ever learned. He was someone, it was not. He was close to God, so naturally he took on the same state of being and referred to himself and other archangels as people rather than objects.

Well, he’s already removed from God in both the holy-light-being-drained-from-him and the god-is-dead way. He can’t exactly be prideful when he’s about to be killed by a Thing. Just over 15 hours ago, he would have considered this to be preposterous. That he would never be killed by anything other than an equal in God's arms.

In a way, he and the machine were in a similar position. Removed from their purpose, their creators dead after they were perfectly molded to suit their respective creators' needs. He latched onto any sense of purpose he could find when he felt the absence of the Father, he was built to serve, and he did so with no complaints. Minos's cries fell on deaf ears, sinners who huddled their kings corpse weren’t the will of Gods problem to think about. The machine must be acting in a similar way, having found its purpose in slaughtering hell. He recalled the last years of the Final War, the supreme machines that reached like the tower of babel to the heavens. Machines that fell in a similar way. Though, as they fell, rather than split humanity apart like Babel, these machines united them.

The machine was made to kill these things, to crawl inside them and destroy their brain. To ravage the towns in search of blood and use it to aid in its overall mission. Was that not what it was doing now? Ravaging hell in search of blood, climbing deeper into it to find the end. It would climb the earthmover, descend hell, slaughter villages, slaughter sinners, find the earthmover's brain, find whatever powered hell, and destroy it. A parasite. It would be left alone to starve, a fitting end for the machine that represented the culmination of every war before its advancements. Humanity never made it far into the New Peace, free will caused it to be drawn to war. When the Machine dies, so will everything before its footprint. The only way to stop war is to continue war, the only way to stop this vicious cycle was for all parties to cease. Gabriel felt his stomach knot up at the implications of how heaven's future would fall.

The machine lifted its gun, point blank at Gabriel's head. He lacked the energy to teleport, he couldn't even fully assess his injuries in the pained haze. Despite all he thought about accepting his fate, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to make sure heaven was safe, he wanted to buy himself more time, he didn’t want to fade away. To hell with glory if he couldn’t see its effects! He didn’t want to be non-existent once again.

“Wait!” He yelped, wincing at the sudden surge of pain. His voice was shaky; he was panting as he looked up to the machine.

It cocked its head, curious. A cold sweat fell over Gabriel, he realized he had no clue what to say to get him out of this. He shoved the immediate questions of whether or not it would be even able to understand anything he said into the back of his mind, one step at a time. Survive now, process later. The machine was built as a weapon, right? Which meant it had to have a commander to tell it where to go, what to do, people to do maintenance on it. There was no one left to command it anymore, but maybe it didn’t realize that.

“I-I’m your uhm.. Admin! Admin Gabriel, here to command you.”

…

Where his cheeks would be suddenly flushed with the little blood he had left in embarrassment. He was dead. There was no way it didn’t have some form of identification for what side it was on. What was it from again? The Roman empire? Wait, no, that was long gone by the time it was made. God, was he really going to die debating where this useless object was made? Who cares? Quick- think of some worthwhile last words for the archangel Gabriel himself! The judge of hell was going to die, he was going to die in the fraud layer after saying a really bad attempt at a lie.

It lowered the gun.

“Holy shit.” He muttered, then recited a quick prayer. God may be gone, but his habits weren’t. He was still ragged, blood coming out of too many places to track. His shoulders slumped almost instantaneously and tears he hadn't realized he'd been holding back suddenly felt like they were about to explode out.

The machine tossed the gun in its wings, never taking its lens off Gabriel. Creepy.

“Can you-” A surge of pain went through Gabriel, he huffed out a few shaky breaths. “Can you speak?”

It nodded, then put up a finger as if to say ‘wait a second.’ He watched carefully, a million questions running through his mind and no answers being given. It lifted its hand up to its neck, opening it up to a small box. A cable was unplugged next to it, and the machine with careful precision avoided touching the biological parts of itself and reattached the cable.

As soon as the cable was attached, it jolted and then stopped moving. He waited, looking into the now exposed neck with wide eyes. Outside of the voicebox, everything in it was wires, a mockery of nerves and veins. The humans went so far as to even give it a voice box where their voice box was, creating such a thing in imitation of themselves. Their attempts at playing God lead to their end.

The machine seemed to finally be finished with what it was doing, closing the neck and waving.

[H-]

A screech of static, Gabriel covered where his ears would've been instinctually. He regretted his decision instantly as his arms erupted in agony. His wince was muffled by the static.

The static stopped, replaced by a small buzzing.

[SORRY], It yelled. Gabriel was right across from it, and didn't appreciate it talking to him like he was across three rooms in a concert. [NEVER US- USED VOICE. FUEL WASTE.]

Its voice was masculine and monotone, it glitched a lot and had an almost crunchy sound to it.

“Can you be any quieter?”

[YES]

It was still yelling. Gabriel paused to take a few breaths, the pain of his injuries wearing down. Right. Direct commands. It understood commands, not questions.

“Lower your volume.”

[YES SIR] Gabriel flinched at the official title, it was rare that he was referred to officially by anyone besides the virtues anymore. He was a largely beloved public figure, quickly climbing his way into the people's heart; he was viewed more warmly than even the council. He encouraged the people that he interacted with on the day-to-day to refer to him personally, even the people that would cower away from his gaze when they first started building the systems of heaven now waved to him casually and shook his hand. Respectful titles remained in important environments, not a nice stroll down the moon. Not covered in his own drying blood and filth when he was just about to die.

It was even weirder coming from the machine that had just almost killed him after successfully amounting to the hardest challenge he ever had. The closest thing to an equal calling him 'sir.'

“Just-” He sighed, letting his body relax. He was going to pass out. A wave of tiredness surged over him as he put the last of his energy into speaking. “Just call me Gabriel.”

[OKAY G-GAB-RIE-EL… GABRIEL.]

It was hard to keep a smile from forming on his face at hearing his own name repeated back to him. The machine struggled saying it, glitching out as it tried to form the word on its tongue (or well, voicebox.) The overwhelming exhaustion cut any panic short in preference of falling into the scarce comfort of slumber. The last thing he saw was the light of the machines lens looking down on him, it was dimmed in battle but had at some point in their conversation reinstated itself. A light in the darkness, company in the pain of isolation, the sun who likely felt nothing towards him but remained sharing its warmth all the same.

Chapter Text

V1 watched as Gabriel passed out. His breaths slowed and his body slumped back into the wall, a stark contrast to the man who cursed its existence only minutes prior. He was peaceful. V1 stared at him a bit more, taking in everything it could. This was the man it had spent hours upon hours viewing footage of their fights on, looking at what it could improve on next time and looking at how the other fought. Every word he had said had been repeated thousands of times in its memory, every movement was neatly categorized and every attack was documented. It didn’t realize it had turned up its graphics until a small warning on the side of its view took hold.

‘WARNING: FUEL BEING DIVERTED FROM COMBAT CALCULATIONS TO GRAPHICS. UNDO? (Y/N)’

‘(N)’

To think such a man was responsible for commanding it.

‘ERROR: FALS_$#*’

The warning, or what should have been one, quickly deleted itself. V1 paid no mind to it, diverting its attention back to the person in front of it. As its graphics rose, it could see the damages on his body more clearly. It noted multiple bullet holes, particularly around his chest. It felt bad for hurting an admin, but that was overwhelmed with its pride in itself for how perfect its shots were, it was the admins fault anyways. What kind of administrator doesn’t tell its warmachine about himself? He left it to fend for itself all this while, never telling it about himself. It could have killed him!

It found itself staring at his chest, watching it slowly rise and fall. It wanted to reach out and touch, feel the life of another without meaning harm. It blinked away these thoughts, confused on why it got side tracked. Was it glitching? It ran a quick diagnostic on its own injuries, and realized it would have to feed on a filth real quick if it wanted to fight again. All almost fatal injuries had healed themselves when it got a good amount of fuel from Gabriel. Nothing that could impact its behavior, though.

It looked back to Gabriel, thinking. If Gabriel was its admin, then surely it should help him out? It had minimal first aid installed in it, thanks to the fact that it was built to act alone and kill everything in its path. Nevermind this was an angel it was dealing with, do angels even eat? How do they fuel themselves? Blood fuel made sense for the other machines, but it was a gamble in his weakened state. It can always ask if he wakes up, it supposed.

It started off with addressing the main issues first, looking around for a cloth it could use on Gabriels wounds. They had fought in a large dining room, shattered glass scattered the room and more than a few lightbulbs had been shot out. 

It made its way to one of the many bathrooms in the mansion, taking what looked like a first aid kit. As it turned to face the only mirror in the room, it jumped 5 feet in the air seeing its reflection, or what should have been its reflection. Facing it was a reconstructed V2, hate seeping through what should be empty lens. It disappeared as quickly as it came, but instead of being replaced with a reflection of V1 it looked as though no one was in the room in the first place. It felt its fans whirr in fear as it dashed out of the bathroom, blasting it with the rocket launcher before running back to Gabriel.

It quickly allowed itself to become immersed in the task of fixing up Gabriel, anything to keep its thoughts off of whatever that was. It forced its fans back down to a normal speed, and slapped its hand whenever it started to shake too much. Focus.

It started by undressing Gabriels leg, he hadn’t had the time to teleport away before its railcannon had blasted right into it. The armor gave way to pitch black skin, covered in grey scars and dried blood. It poured some rubbing alcohol into the wound, flinching as Gabriel sturred. Still asleep. It let itself at ease again and continued working on cleaning the would, forcing the instincts that said claw deeper down. It was built to kill, built to drain fuel from those that stood in its way, not to heal, not to speak, not to do anything its new admin required from it. It ignored the way its fist clenched at the thought of failure.

By the time it had finished its attempt at gentleness, it had already been hours since Gabriel fell asleep. Unsure as to what to do now, it crouched in front of him and stared. It allowed itself to take the angel in as a whole, from the hypnotizingly blue wings that no amount of sculptures or window art could do justice to the scarred abs. It recognized a majority of his front side scars as its own handiwork, warm air leaking out of its vents. If it could, it’d have smiled fondly at the fact that it was one of the few to ever have gotten close enough to damage the angel. It could relate in that regard, for most creatures down here found themselves vaporized into a cloud of red mist before they could even get close to it. That, or they would see their very own attacks coming right back at them.

It let its lens fall upon his helmet, where his face would be. It could admit, it was almost all consumingly curious as to what was hidden behind the thing. Would it look like a virtue? Human shaped like the rest of his body? Or something else entirely? Though, the admin had constantly made a point to keep the thing on. It would have to ask him itself, if- once he woke up.

Its gaze never fell off him, it laid right next to him and continued to stare.

After what could have been anywhere from minutes to hours, he finally stirred awake. Gabriel winced as he sluggishly woke up, staring right into where V1s face would be. He scrambled back and onto his feet, his wings flashing a quick pink before calming back down.

[HELLO S-.. GABRIEL. SLEEP WELL?] It had only just started getting used to the feeling of its own voice, never having quite understood the voiceboxes purpose before Gabriel came along.

“What were you even-” He cut his own angered yelp off, mumbling something its sensors failed to pick up before speaking again. “Personal space, machine. Remember that term, I’ll be talking about it to you later.” His voice was much more stern this time, resembling the man it heard about in the books that praised his name more than ever. “Good morning.”

[FALSE. IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.]

Chapter Text

Gabriel doesn't dream often anymore, and this quick slumber was no exception. He woke up from his rest slowly, his mind still trying to catch up with the events that lead him here. Right. The machine almost killed him, and in a last minute attempt to live he had convinced it that he was its administrator. He unwillingly let out a small cry of pain as his body came back to him, all too eager to remind him how badly he lost the fight.

His eyes opened sluggishly, squinting as a way too bright and close for comfort light blinded him. In his foggy haze he was almost convinced he had died and this light was from whatever afterlife awaited angels.

His wings pushed him back with an unbecoming yelp of surprise as he processed what was staring him dead in the face. A small flash of embarrassment induced rage came over him, quickly tainting his wings pink as he stumbled up to his feet, ignoring the shocks of pain that came over his legs.

[HELLO S-.. GABRIEL. SLEEP WELL?] The voice was still monotone, but glitched a little less than it had when it first talked to him.

“What were you even-” Gabriel cried out, before he realized the futility of yelling at the other.

“ Right. It’s a machine.” He grumbled to himself. Sighing, he mustered up any energy he had left to speak in a stern voice. “Personal space, machine. Remember that term, I will be talking to you about it later.”

He stretched with a yawn, feeling a few joints pop as he did so. “Good morning.” 

[FALSE. IT IS THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT]

“It’s always 6 in the morning somewhere.” Gabriel said with a shrug, crouching to inspect his injuries. The machine had taken the armor off of and wrapped up the leg that was bothering him in gauze, messily put on as if it had never wrapped anything before. Which was likely true, considering its purpose. He had another wrap around his exposed midriff, which was a bit too tight for comfort. 

His angered mood dissipated a little at the thought of the machine running around to find something to help him, even if it only did so because it was its duty. It was a little charming, seeing the mistakes it made in the medical end of things. He doubted it would be capable of doing such things at first, or if it had been able to, it would have been programmed into it to do it perfectly. It was oddly.. normal of it to have to go through a learning curve in something.

“You bandaged me up, correct?” It nodded in response. “Well then,” he slowly got up, ignoring the instant headache he got from the sudden movement. He dusted himself off, before reaching an arm out. “I owe you my thanks.”

…

“You can shake my hand.”

…

His hand was still held inanimately in the air for 30 seconds as the machine just stared at it. Unblinking.

“You know, like this.” He awkwardly shook his own hand, glancing back up to see if it was watching. It was, with the same intensity it watched everything.

[I KNEW THAT.]

It held its own hand out, letting Gabriel grasp his own around its. It awkwardly messed around with its hands position before it got it in a comfortable spot and started practically throwing their hands up and down. Gabriel barely had any time to process it, nevermind speak again before it cut him off.

[SEE? I KNEW IT.]

The warmachine that slaughtered a majority of hell and had single handedly beat an archangel did not know what a handshake was. Rather than own up to this silly fact, it double downed and pretended it knew what one was before miserably failing at it. The absurdity of that did not go unnoticed as Gabriel forced a laugh down, barely containing a shake of his shoulders as he silently thanked God for giving him this helmet, a smile forcing its way onto his face.

The machine didn’t share the same enthusiasm for its failure, crossing its arms around its chest and using its lens cover to mimic squinting it turned its head away. Upon seeing this attempt at a pout, Gabriels laughter forced its way out like a waterfall breaking a dam. His head rolled back as he struggled for air, whenever he thought he was done laughing, he would see the machines expression and crack up even more. He grabbed onto a nearby chair for support, trying not to topple over in his giggling.

He had forgotten the last time he laughed this hard, the time for play had gotten crushed under his duties, warm laughs replaced by cold rejections and cruel mockeries of sinners. He pushed those thoughts away, now was not the time to drown in his sorrows.

Eventually he finally calmed down, a small grin still present on his face as he spoke again. Its lens was still turned away, and now he could feel warm air coming out of its vents.

“I’m sorry machine, that was very unprofessional of me to laugh at.” He did his best to keep the smile out of his voice, which seemed to work as its vents stopped pushing out warm air and it turned to face him. So it could feel embarrassment, that small fact messed with his heart in a way he did not want to spend more than a moment thinking about.

[AC- ACCEPTED.] It was glitching again, now turning its head to the ground. A small pit rose in Gabriels stomach, but he brushed it off. There was no need to feel bad for the thing, even if it mimicked emotions well or even if they were true, it still had slaughtered so many and would have killed him without a second thought if he hadn’t lied to it. [NEED FUEL.] It dashed off immediately, not allowing Gabriel to get a word in before it had left. He reached out in an attempt to stop it but it was too fast, leaving him with an outstretched hand and a thousand questions. 

“Machine?” Gabriel called out, knowing on some level that he would get no answer. He let his hand fall to his side, before turning back to the first aid kit it had used to work on him. Small scratches showed it trying to figure out how to open the thing, before it ripped the box apart and erratically grabbed at the contents. He didn’t know how to feel about that, so he shoved it in the back of his mind and took a seat in one of the few still in-tact chairs of the dining room.

He took the time alone to think of the events of the past hours. He didn’t know how long he slept, but by all means it should have been long enough since the council had first removed his light that he should at least be able to feel the weakness that comes with losing your main power source, if not be dead. So what gives? How is he alive? He glanced back to the first aid kit, wondering if the machine did something. A small bottle of rubbing alcohol was still opened, along with the gauze wraps it had used to help him. He reached down to grab the rubbing alcohol, wincing at the pain of putting pressure on his unhealed too tightly wrapped stomach. Still, he had a small hunch and was willing to go through far more to confirm something.

He poured a small droplet on his finger, before he felt something powerful seep into his skin. He grinned in realization, this was the luckiest he had felt in a long time excluding the whole admin situation. Of course the first aid kits down here wouldn’t actually heal demons, it was fraud not limbo. Inside the rubbing alcohol bottles was holy water, something that would only aggravate demons' wounds but save a ‘fallen’ angel. He let out a large sigh of relief, gratitude falling over him like a wave. He hadn’t even considered the possibility of something being able to help him survive being cut off from the holy light in his guilt-ridden haze. Out of habit Gabriel mumbled a quick prayer, before shoving what was left of the holy water into a small brown bag, tossing it around him.

With the immediate concern of death out of the way, he leaned back into the chair and allowed himself a moment to think. He felt wrong for lying to the machine, but his desire to live trumped any guilt that threatened to take a hold on him. When the machine wasn’t trying to kill him and everything he’s grown to care for, it was a little.. cute? His heart skipped a beat at the thought, and he redirected his mind quickly. It had feelings, or at least was programmed to mimic them. The idea of the blood fueled machines being sentient was not a new one by any means, he recalled more than a few talks in heaven over the implications of a machine using someones life force.

The fact that it could speak alone was a shock to him, that it could even understand all of the insults he hurled at what should have been a brick wall. It was a bloodthirsty killer that could only function at the cost of others lives, and despite that it still tried to help him. And the way it glitched before it left, thinking back on it, he could’ve sworn it mimicked the way someones voice cracks when they’re about to cry. His heart dropped at the memory, souring his mood. Dealing with topics like this, with guilt like this, was so much easier when he could hide behind the idea of being the ‘Will of God.’ Minos’s pleas repeated in his head as he sat, the past judge who had only wanted to save his people.

If his prime soul was ever released, what would he say now? His people were killed by both his own unwilling hands and the machines and Gabriel had a far too late change of heart to ever stop it. Would Minos forgive him? No chance, not after he struck down the man mid-plea with cruelty. The sinners that made the mistake of loving each other without leaving room for their now gone Gods sobs echoed in his mind. 

Husks, who weren’t even meant to be able to form complex thoughts, screamed in agony at the death of their leader. It had haunted the angel for weeks, to the point that he had to step away from lust for a while just not to remember those horrifying screams. He has never heard such universal sorrow in his lifetime, not before and not after. They would have wept, but hell had taken their eyes, so all they could do was scream. Anytime he’d get the courage to try to talk to another angel about it, he would cower in the last-minute fear that they would deem him unworthy of being the judge of hell and consider him weak.

Even if Minos would never forgive him, even if Minos would attempt to kill him, he needed to apologize. Before whatever holy water he could find ran out, he needed to save Minos from the purgatory that he had trapped him in. Gabriel let out a shaky sigh, he would have more than enough time to cry when he was dead. Now would be the time for action.

The machine peeked its head in the door sheepishly, apparently back from slaughtering whatever it found. The blood had absorbed in its plates quickly, only leaving a few small patches where it didn’t have absorbing plates dirty.

“Machine, I have something I would like you to help me with.” Gabriel called out, before he stood up and fully faced the other. His voice was strong, despite the tremors in his hands that he hoped the machine didn’t pick up on. “This is not a command, and you are fully free to reject this mission.”

It tilted its head, body still outside of Gabriels line of sight.

“Tell me, do you recall the name ‘King Minos’ from anywhere?”

Chapter Text

‘WARNING: OVERABUNDANCE OF DISTRESS SIGNALS. MINIMAL CHANCE OF HARM.’

V1 dashed out of the room, running through the twisting and turning manor. It didn’t linger on the details of the rooms it passed, it just kept running. Its fans were in overdrive as it deleted warning after warning, barely taking a second to process the constant yelling its systems nagged it with. 

The manor seemed to be smaller now than when it first entered, only taking it less than a minute until it found a hidden hallway occupied by filth. Normally it would slowly pick them off one by one if there were no other large threats, allowing itself maximum absorption. This time was different, it quickly pulled out its electric railgun and blasted through the crowd before finishing them off with a few pistol bullets. What mimicked adrenaline coursed through it as it frantically looked around for anything else, wings fluttering at speeds it didn’t even remember it was capable of.

It needed something new to kill, everything in it was yelling at it for a reason it could not fully understand but distressed it all the same. If it killed more, did what it was built for, maybe its receptors would calm down again. The hallways remained empty, spare a few already shredded bodies. Fans sped up at rates it wasn’t sure they could handle for more than a minute without melting. Its vision degraded and blurred, eye darting around frantically but never processing anything. More hallways, more red walls and red decorations and red paintings and red carpets and red doors and-

‘WARNING: FUEL BEING EXPENDED AT CONCERNING RATE. TAKE A BREATHER.’

V1s spiraling thoughts paused at this warning, a beeping noise took hold of its senses as it halted to a stop. The warning slowly faded out of its sight once it stopped running, the roaring fans slowed down and its systems stopped screaming at it. 

A shudder wracked through it as it fell back onto its heels, knees digging into the ground. The adrenaline wore off and left it with a hollowed out feeling, what its systems recognized as dread filled its body. It was failing at almost everything its new admin had asked of it. Why did they build it like this if they hadn't wanted it to kill?

‘ERROR: FALS^&-’

The message deleted itself in a similar fashion as the one it saw while looking at Gabriel, never given a second thought from V1. Blood fueled machines weren't expected to work together, it was a waste of fuel to help each other. It knew this well, even utilizing their tendency to attack each other when it was fighting a crowd. If they weren't made to work together, why did its admin want it to speak? Why did he want it to learn social practices like handshakes that were ultimately useless on the battlefield? What use did it have when it couldn't even help its administrator heal properly, instead leaving his skin with a mess of bandages?

No answer came. It could ask him, it supposed. What did Gabriel want out of it? Why didn’t he save himself the pain and tell it earlier? Why did the thought of learning the answers to these questions feel as terrible as the idea of going against its code?

It sat there for a while, shaking as it straggled with questions without definitive answers. It hated this. It hated being forced to think about anything other than the dance of violence, its own newly remembered emotions both confused and scared it far more than any enemy could. Why did its systems send it into panic mode? There were no definitive threats, so why was it pumped full of fear?

Eventually, V1 mustered up the strength to stand, throwing its gun into its wings and running back to Gabriel. It knew the way back instinctually, having somewhere along its rampage mapped out what little it had found. Despite this, it was left confused as some halls turned in the opposite direction they had previously and some doors had swapped to the opposite sides of the room. This was not too much of a problem, but a problem nonetheless as it wasted 30 seconds running around like a headless chicken before it found out about the change.

The manor had been merciful, granting it a quick passage to the dining room Gabriel was still in. Despite this, it still felt uneasy as it peered into the room.

“Machine, I have something I would like you to help me with.” He sounded much more like the guy it had fought all the way back in gluttony, it couldn’t help but respect its admin as its shoulders loosened. He turned to face it, with what looked to be renewed vigor. It would have smiled at his recovery if it had a mouth. “This is not a command, and you are fully free to reject this mission.”

It cocked its head in what it hoped would signal a ‘go on’ kind of motion. It was weirdly happy to be given a new mission, going so long without a purpose other than just continuing to function. Combined with the fact that it was able to serve such a powerful man. It quickly skipped over the fact that it was technically stronger and could best him in battle.

“Tell me, do you recall the name ‘King Minos’ from anywhere?”

It paused, searching its memory storages for any reference of the name.

[CORPSE.]

Gabriel flinched at that, but recomposed himself quickly. “What do you mean?”

[I KILLED HIS CORPSE.]

He let out a small sigh of relief, “What about his soul?”

[WHAT ABOUT IT?]

“Did you ever see it?”

[NEGATIVE. HUSK.]

“So there’s a chance that it was never released?” Gabriel muttered to himself, barely trying to keep the smile out of his voice.

[AFFIRMATIVE]

“Well then, machine, will you help me find it? I have a debt to pay to him.”

It nodded rapidly, not stopping until Gabriel coughed awkwardly. He gestured for it to come in, to which it obliged quickly. It stood next to him, facing its head up to look him in where his face would be. It never realized their height difference in the heat of battle, spending most of it in the air or sliding on the ground. Sure, it had calculated it, but never fully processed it as anything more than battle data. It was built to invade, a small and quiet killer that had no need to be seen until it was too late, unlike Gabriel. Gabriel, whose wings stretched far and wide. Gabriel, who basked himself in holy light and made a constant show of himself. Gabriel, who despite all he said about remaining holy and acting as the will of God, seemed most alive when fighting V1. Gabriel, who seemed to constantly draw the attention of talented poets, sculptors, artists, and even V1 itself.

Its systems heated up as it thought, barely processing Gabriels words.

“Machine? Machine, are you okay?”

It nodded quickly.

[SMALL GLITCH. NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT]

He took a second to stare at it, before looking away and continuing his ramble.

“To find it we will need to first go all the way back up to gluttony, we can probably use the few husks still laying around to fuel you if need be. Worst case scenario, I have a lot of blood to go around.”

Its fading in and out of focus came to a halt as he mentioned blood. Suddenly, it turned to stare at him intensively.

[R-REALLY?]

It glitched a little as it questioned him, something that it started to correlate with strong emotions taking priority over speaking. It didn’t know exactly what it was feeling, but its fans whirred a little faster and its already heating up system felt like it would catch on fire. The one thing that united every creature, husk to angel, was blood. It all processed the same in its systems, all gave the same amount of fuel, so why was it looking forward to this more than any other refuel?

“I can’t have your self preservation instincts go haywire and make you rogue like your inferiors. You still bested me in combat, and I’d like not to relive that.” Despite his words, it could’ve sworn it heard traces of a warm reminiscing in his voice.

[PRACTICE.]

He jolted at the sudden conviction in its voice.

[WHEN YOU'RE HEALED. I WILL HELP YOU FIGHT BETTER.]

Gabriel considered its words for a moment, before he held his hand out for it to take.

“It’s a promise, then. Let’s shake on it.”

It was a little better this time, taking less time to re-adjust its hand and actually shaking it rather than throwing it.

“It’s an improvement. Well done, machine.”

‘WARNING: SMALL RISK OF OVERHEATING. FIND A WAY TO COOL DOWN.’

If only he knew how quick its systems ran into overdrive at the compliment.