Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There is such beauty in destruction.

It's something visceral. Carnal, even. 

It is especially beautiful in a world that no longer has the ability to create. A world in which everything had consumed in its own never-ending battle, a last-ditch effort to regain humanity that has long been lost. After all, in the end, it was always about power. Nothing more, and nothing less. 

Not even the destruction of humanity could undo that damage. It kept festering, like an infected wound, spouting it's pus on the wreckage of the world. Not even heaven itself was safe. They were foolish to think otherwise; every empire has to fall. But the divines' egos were far too enlarged to accept defeat. No, they would not fall, not without one hell of a fight. And fight, they did.  In this twisted world, in order to solve bloodshed, you have to strangle it with more bloodshed. There is no other way. There is no need to target the weak. The weak had been eliminated eons ago. Only the strong remained. And the strong were troublesome. Disruptive. Too much power threatened authority, and disrupted obedience. Only the divine should control these things. 

Only the divine could keep order. 

This is how it has always been. 

How it should have always continued to be.

But those wretched creations...

Machines. 

The angels spat upon their existence. Wretched, cold, soulless husks, created by a species that was too unintelligent to contain them. The last remnants of a decaying world. Ironically, the most life it had seen since its death. 

Merciless. Mindless. 

The amalgamation of everything wrong with humanity. 

Feeding upon the sweet nectar of blood like bees drunk off pollen, basking in the limelight of murder, like the monstrosities they are.

The only good robot was a dead robot.

But, for some forsaken reason, they refuse to die. 

The very existence of such blasphemy made the Judge of Hell's body sear white hot with fury. With nothing left of hell but bloodied ruins and no kingdom to rule, there was only one task the angel cared to carry out, and that was the evisceration of that horrendous creation. 

V1. 

Those horrendous 2 symbols, carved crudely into the machines chest, were merely inches from the archangels' helmet, aglow with faint yellow light. Gabriel had not but a mere few seconds to think before he was pinned down by the machine and its many arms, their metal plated bodies rolling at high speed, limbs sprawling, before eventually screeching to a halt on the angel's own chapel floor. 

How humiliating. 

Gabriel squirmed under the machines grasp, helpless against the force of a false body built solely for battle. Sleek, cold, and disgusting. Its fans whirred deafeningly in Gabriel's ears, only fueling the angel's fury with its incessant noise. 

There was simply no way he would let this abomination beat him in a battle yet another time. The thought of it brought bile to the back of his throat. It didn't matter that his life was on the line. At this point, Gabriel had come to terms with his own death. His punishment for failure was the last thing on his mind. 

No, this fight was much, much more personal. 

Gabriel wanted it GONE. 

With a flare of his wings, Gabriel put all of his strength into a shove, managing to catch it off balance for a split second, long enough to get his bearings. That was all he needed. A second. 

With a sweep of his leg, Gabriel sent the machine sprawling down onto him, its limbs releasing their vice-like grip on Gabriel's body. Using this moment of weakness against it, Gabriel rolled out from under it, swiftly grabbing Justice and Splendor from where they had fallen a few feet beside him after the two enemies had taken their violent tumble. He had just enough time to center himself before the machine was on its feet again. 

The creature had wings of its own. Ugly, and shining, and sleek, like the rest of its synthetic body. A horrendous mockery of the divine, an imitation of something it could never hope to be. Gabriel could not help but scoff every time the machine let those devices make an appearance. 

....

Silence. 

Deafening silence. 

In a strange moment of calm, the two beings stared at each other, neither making a move. Someone less intelligent might have taken it as a sign of peace, but Gabriel knew better, and especially knew not to expect anything of the sort from the robot hunched animalistically in front of him. Gabriel did not think he has ever seen that creature in a state of rest. It was always on alert, legs and arms always spread in an offensive pose, even after wiping the floors of hell clean from any threats that might befall it. 

Truly amusing. 

Gabriel opened his mouth, the rustic taste of blood piercing his tongue. 

His blood, he might add. 

In the heat of battle, he had not noticed that his fall to the ground had injured him, possibly even snapping a rib. Not wanting to give the machine the satisfaction of knowing this, he bit back a cough that bubbled up from deep within his chest. 

With a swipe of his lips to clear the blood, Gabriel grinned under his helmet. 

"Aren't you going to attack me, machine?" He goaded. "It is not like you to leave an enemy standing." 

The machine gave no indication of acknowledgement. 

"Or perhaps..." Gabriel continued. "You have stumbled upon some sense of mercy?" 

The thought of it made the angel laugh. "I didn't think a pile of scrap like you was able to feel such things."  

The more time ticked on, the more irritated Gabriel began to feel. Why was this thing acting so strange? He wanted it to attack him. He WANTED to make it angry. 

Why the fuck then, was it acting so indifferent? Was this his way of torturing him? The wretched thing.

"Well then, machine," Gabriel. "If you are so cowardly as to stand there and ogle me, I suppose I will make the first move."  

The machine still refused to move. 

"YOU WANT TO FEED ON MY BLOOD, DON'T YOU?" Gabriel challenged, his voice rising, filling the empty walls of the chapel. The splendor of his own voice made the angel screech even louder. "COME HERE AND FIGHT ME LIKE THE ANIMAL YOU ARE." 

With rigged swipes of his beloved swords, Gabriel sliced two angry red fissures into his palms. Holding his bleeding fists to the sky, Gabriel exclaimed, 

"TAKE IT FROM ME, YOU COWARDLY EXCUSE FOR A CREATURE."

Something inside the machine shifted. Its optic moved once, twice, but never a third time, taking in the shining liquid oozing from Gabriel's fists. 

It did not waste any more time thinking. It was after the angel in seconds. 

A powerful flap of its artificial wings was all it took for it to be in range. 

Gabriel knew it would not hold back now. And he relished that. 

Their regular song and dance had begun again. 

The machine's agile body bounced off the walls and ceiling with ease, proving a formidable challenge, even for an angel with the power to teleport. 

It's eye... its... optic... was as expressionless as ever. But Gabriel could sense something that was not present before. 

Hunger. 

And for once, you could have convinced the angel that this thing before him had feelings. 

Like a fool, Gabriel allowed himself a moment of weakness.  Perhaps not even a second.  But in a battle between two "rulers" of hell, one second was all it took. 

He was pinned to the wall. And he was once again staring into the closet thing on that creature one could call a face.

God, that thing was loud up close. Every miniscule movement of its limbs made a noise, pistons whirring loudly as if they had not been oiled in millennia. The constant hum of electricity was enough to drill a hole through someone's skull. 

"Are you out of fuel, machine?" The words came out garbled and strained. That thing's stolen arm was tightly gripping his throat, the wires that made up its grappling mechanisms laced several times around it, digging into his skin. 

"Are you... dying?" Gabriel scoffed. 

The barrel of the machine's revolver plunged into the bare part of his neck. 

Gabriel retched with the sudden force against his jugular. 

Blood gurgled past his lips, hot and metallic. 

The throbbing pressure in the angel's lungs worsened. He found himself unable to breath, unable to utter another witty remark, as he was so known for. Desperate for some sort of control, some form of retaliation, Gabriel did the only thing his battered body allowed him to do. 

V1 recoiled as Gabriel's bloodied spit collided with its optic. A sound escaped its body. A low, gravely beep, one Gabriel had not heard before. The lense embedded in its head contracted irregularly, whirring in tune with its movements.

In his injured daze, Gabriel felt that furious, visceral desire once more. 

The desire to rip this abhorrent scrap heap apart, to revel in finally seeing its insides, splayed about in front of his feet as they were meant to be. To watch the false "life" The creature contained fade agonizingly from its single eye, to hear the blissful silence that would come from its mechanical body shutting down for the final time. 

He craved that feeling so deeply, in the core of his divine being. It coursed through his body like an angry flame.

The hums from the machines body seemed to grow ever louder as the seconds agonizingly drug themselves by. By God himself, Gabriel could swear this thing was created with no other purpose than to taunt him. Some egotistical part of Gabriel believed that the thing wouldn't actually kill him. That it would continue to torture and degrade him in the form of "mercy". 

Gabriel's breath rattled. 

In. Out. 

Every miniscule movement, every twitch of his torso, was nothing but agonizing pain. Blood poured from Gabriel's mouth as he let out a haggard moan. 

"Kill me you bastard." 

His words were garbled, almost unrecognizable. 

What was he saying? 

He didn't want to lose to this creature. 

But his body was failing him. 

No matter how much rage coursed through his veins, nothing could combat the force of his body shutting down. Betraying him.

 He didn't know how long he had left. 

Did it matter? 

"I SAID, FUCKING KILL ME!" 

Gabriel's voice rebounded against the empty corridor, with a pathetic shell of the energy and might it had once contained. 

The angel's spine involuntarily buckled with the strain of forcing a yell, and he groaned angrily, clutching at the floor with bloodied hands. Slick with his own fluids, his fingers refused to gain grounding, and Gabriel flopped helplessly below his assailant once more, defeated.

The world was dark. Death was nearer than Gabriel had ever let it come before. Once, this would have angered him. It would have wounded his pride so deeply, scorching his insides with rage. But now all the angel felt was some strange semblance of peace. 

CLICK

A jarring sound. 

And then, another. 

CLICK. 

Gabriel then heard a sound he had never heard before, nor ever expected to hear, from the creature hovering above him. 

[W H A T.]

The machine, it had spoken.

The sound was crude, low and garbled. Unnatural. Something that was never meant to be put in a non-living body. It was so jarring, in fact, that it somehow managed to bring Gabriel out of his stupor, dragging him back from the clutches of death from its pure insanity. The world came slowly fading back into view, the machine’s gaudy yellow optic shining down on Gabriel like the light at the end of the tunnel, or some mockery of it. 

The machine was staring down at him, and then, at its gun, alternating back and forth with as much emotion as a stagnant face could make. Slowly, the pressure on Gabriels's neck eased, and he watched as the machine brought the gun up to its optic, examining it closer. Its thin fingers closed around the trigger, bringing forth yet another CLICK sound. 

The machine, somehow, had run out of ammo. 

[& (& *]

It seemed the time for words was over. The machine let out a series of strangely human sounding beeps, its frustration clearer than day. It kept repeating the same series of sounds, over and over, each louder than the last. Gabriel found himself wondering if they- the machines- had their own sort of specialized language that he was privileged to never understand. 

Not that it mattered. He was dying. And he knew better than to think that a lack of ammunition would stop this creature from having its way with him. It was only a matter of moments before his time would come. This setback would mean nothing to change his fate. 

But it seemed that this machine knew how to catch him off his guard in more ways than one. 

[STILL.]

It spoke again. Gabriel’s head was so muddled. It pounded against his skull, the monotone noises doing absolutely nothing to sooth it. Through the haze and pushing past the pain ebbing throughout every orifice in his body, Gabriel was able to utter one single confused word. 

“What…?” 

A moment of silence. Maybe two. And then, 

[STILL. ]  —-  [ STAY.]

Before the angel could begin to try to process what the machine meant, it was on him once more, its arms grabbing roughly at each of Gabriel’s limbs. 

Gabriels breath caught in his aching lungs. 

“What are you… hnbghh- shit - GHH- what the FUCK are you doing, creature?” He choked out. 

The thing was crawling on him, limbs splayed like a spiders, completely encapsulating the angel beneath it, despite their massive difference in size. It lifted a singular arm, making sure to add extra force to the ones that were still holding his enemy down, and reached for something behind its back. Helpless, Gabriel watched, his confusion only mounting further and further as the seconds ticked on. 

A god-awful tearing sound resounded through the empty room, followed by a VERY angry beep that lasted several seconds before abruptly halting. Suddenly, Gabriel was being showered with a hot fluid. It took longer than it should have for Gabriel to realize what it was. 

BLOOD.

The machine was holding one of its fuel tanks above him, the wires from where it had previously been connected to its core dangling nauseatingly down on the angels form, dripping hot, fresh blood. 

“What-” 

With no further warning, the machine dug its clawed hand deep into Gabriels's flesh, twisting violently. 

“GAHHHHHH-” 

The angel howled in pain as his body seared white hot in agony. Somehow, he had been foolish enough to think that he had hit the precipice, that he did not have the capacity to feel any more pain that the machine could attempt to bring upon him, but he had been gravely mistaken.

Seeming to find new life, his exhausted limbs flailed under the machines metal ones in a futile, instinctive attempt to escape. Gabriel’s mind might have been ready to die, but it seemed that, despite his best efforts, his body was not. 

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” 

The angels body contorted in all directions as the creature wriggled its claws in the open wound, ripping tender flesh and tendon. The machine dug and dug until it found what it was looking for, a large, bulging artery buried deep in the flesh. 

“MACHINE- PLEASE-’’ 

Never in Gabriel’s long, immortal life, had he ever been reduced to begging like this. 

The angel attempted to lift a single arm, only for it to be forcibly slammed to the ground mere moments later, warranting another series of aggressive beeps from his captor. 

[DO.]

[NOT.]

[MOVE.] 

The message was clear.

Gabriel could do nothing but obey. 

His captor moved to do something- God knows what - only to stop, realizing that it would have to surrender another arm to achieve its goal. Pausing to think for only a moment, it suddenly jammed one of its metal knees into Gabriels's midsection, only narrowly missing the wound that it had created. Gabriel groaned, his breathing arduous and pooling against his helmet. The stench of his own blood against his nose made the angel want to hurl.

Seemingly satisfied with the position it had trapped Gabriel in, the machine began to move once again, its movements methodical and precise, as if it had done this before. 

With artery in hand, the war machine shoved it into an open orifice in its mangled fuel tank, where once there had been only wires. This device was never meant for a mortal body. 

“HHHHGH… machine.” Gabriel groaned. “I would rather you just- UGH-. I would rather you just kill me. “And before he knew it, Gabriel found wretched words forming on his tongue again, betraying everything he was. “ Please .” 

The machine stared down at him. Silent. For being a creature suddenly of many words, it seemed to have nothing to say. 

Gabriel weakly watched as his own blood pooled inside the creature's fuel tank. This was disgusting. He should be disgusted by this. Every instinct… no. Every taught conscience inside him knew that this was a tragedy of nature, a bastardization of god's will. 

So why then, did he feel strangely fascinated? 

As the seconds went on, Gabriel found that, miraculously, the agonizing pain assaulting his body began to ebb, and while still covered in wounds, he found that now, he could finally catch his breath. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” 

He had to know.

“And don’t give me that silence , machine.” He added, staring up at its blue form. “I know that you can speak now. Why don’t you use your words?” He goaded. 

The machine’s head twitched. It stared at Gabriel. Gabriel stared at it. 

[BLOOD.] 

The answer was simple. A creature of few words, it seemed. And yet, it made sense. 

Gabriel couldn’t help but choke out a laugh. 

“I should’ve fucking known.” He sneered. “You’re keeping my sorry sack alive so you can use me as your own personal blood bank.” 

The angel’s head rolled back as he laughed. “What a sorry creature you are.” 

The angel had a realization, and grinned underneath his helm. “You need me, machine.” He remarked haggardly. “You’re fucking dead without me. You can’t kill me. You need me.’’ 

As the absurd realization sunk in, Gabriel’s chest shook with laughter, the sound ringing against the halls of the corridor. 

That creature. It had no idea. It had no idea that they were both dead men walking. Oh, how amusing this was. How wonderfully twisted. 

Gabriel’s breathing, while more stable now, was still shallow in his chest, and every inhale brought on a rattling of a disgusting sort. But there was something else there, in Gabriel’s exhausted body, something that he had simply refused to acknowledge, present since the duo's very first encounter. Something festering. 

For some unknown, twisted reason, the presence of this machine, in a scenario as absurd as this, no less, brought out something other than hatred in the angel. It brought…. 

Excitement. 

And, despite the divine being's best attempts to smother the flames, that fire was only growing.

Chapter Text

When presented with paradise, there is neither man nor beast who can resist indulging in its ravishing, seductive fruits. 

Hell was that paradise. Pulsing, teeming with raw, succulent life. The very walls oozed mortal fluids, tantalizingly close, always within reach.

The creatures that resided in Hell, however, were no less than the equivalent of bugs. Means to an end, quotas on a neverending checklist of extermination. 

They meant nothing to V1. Killing them brough no ‘joy’, no ‘excitement’ to the war machine. Slaying the filth of hell was nothing but an instinct. Their corpses, while many in number, provided only a brief moment of life in their blood, before growing stale and useless once more. 

A buffet laid afront of the machine's lifeless hands, and yet it remained unsatiated. After all, how could this existence be called a life? Killing endlessly to stay one step ahead of the clutches of death was nothing short of blasphemous. 

Not that V1 cared. Or, rather, had the capacity to care.

All it knew was that it was dying. And Hell, while being paradise, could not sustain it forever. After all, all good things must come to an end. 

In a way, the machine had somewhat come to terms with this. Something deep in its code kept it from stopping its onslaught, but it was not stupid. 

There had been a time, in the beginning, where killing brought it more feelings than just satiation. The desperate, animalistic squirming of its prey under its metal body, at one point, sparked something that could not be named in it. But those days had long but gone away. Every creature reacted the same, in the end. It was… for lack of a better word… boring. V1 grew tired of chasing prey that provided no threat. 

Even the other machines, who, at least occasionally, provided the slightest hint of a challenge for V1, were useless. Most of them, having not been built for combat like their competitor, were running on stale blood. Slow. Boring.

 The only exception to this monotony was V1's own successor, the sleek, blood red model known as V2. For the first time in what had felt like eons, V1 felt that rush fighting against the thing that had replaced it. Finally, something in Hell could match its speed, its skill. But that delicious euphoria was doomed from the start, and both machines knew it. Having the same goal, fueled by the same limited substance, only one of them could remain alive.

V1 disposed of his replacement easily. Tearing its lifeless limbs from the all too familiar body, V1 took its trophy and was the unofficial ruler of Hell once more. 

V1 hungered for another challenge almost immediately. A desire so deeply ingrained in its core that festered more and more with each meaningless kill. V1 did not care to die wandering the empty halls of hell scrambling for blood. God willing, V1 would claw and fight its way to its satisfaction, one way or another. 

And it had seemed that opportunity had arrived. 

The angel was NEW. The angel was FRESH. The angel was a being that V1 had never dealt with before. 

Most creatures of Hell cowered in the presence of the well-known assailant, running to darkened corners where they could find some temporary source of safety. They fled like the prey that they were. 

The angel did not cower. The angel did not flee. 

The angel WANTED to be fought. 

Their first fight was swift, seemingly over before it had the chance to truly begin. A flurry of organic and synthetic wings, metal clashing against metal in a violent dance. V1 had underestimated the angel's power the first time they had fought. Most creatures never got the privilege to lay a hand on the war machine for more than a fraction of a second. But the angel was cunning, and just as thirsty for violence as V1 was. He ripped one of V1's many arms right out of its sockets, splaying its intricate parts across the pulsing floor. V1 did not realize it was capable of feeling the pain this action caused its body. Every sensor, every alarm in its system screamed warnings as blood poured out from its broken wires, hot and steaming. V1 did not give the angel the chance to touch him again. Disregarding its body's warnings and kicking its fuel into overdrive to make up for the missing limb, V1 brought the angel down within moments, slamming his armoured body to the ground with a resounding crash. 

V1 was not upset at being bested, even if it was only taken advantage of for a brief moment. Seeing the angel prostrated on the ground below him, powerless, whining pointlessly about being “BESTED BY AN OBJECT.” sparked feelings within it that were anything but anger. The machine picked up its mangled arm from where it lay in the empty arena, and crudely reattached what was left of it to its bloodied torso. The arm was useless to it now, but V1 found itself wanting to keep it regardless. A reminder of an exhilarating fight, unlike anything that it had experienced before. This is what it was built for. WAR. HATRED. 

V1 was looking forward to another fight with this opponent. The angel was not a useless husk. It was not a machine, not competition. He was alive. Full of new, fresh blood. Blood that could replenish, blood that, because of some divine intervention, could be regained over and over even if the angel was brought within centimeters of his life. 

V1 could USE this creature. 

Throughout its crusade in the layers of Hell, V1 came to learn the name of the opponent it so longed to see again. GABRIEL. 

The name was fitting. A godly name for a creature that insisted it was the final word of god, casting judgement on creatures below it, for the sole purpose of enacting a law that was no longer relevant. Gabriel was not revered among Hell as he was in Heaven. It made sense, after all, what place did he have in killing the souls that resided there? 

In that way, the two of them were alike. Two sides of the same coin, but by some twist of fate, opposite sides of the same war. V1 knew Gabriel wanted it dead. It was all the angel talked about in their battle. His mortal weakness. 

The angel was too prideful for his own good. Even the godly are not above sin. 

V1 felt no need to taunt. V1 felt no need to boast its power to its prey. It knew its worth, its power, and so did its opponents. But Gabriel was different. Gabriel, despite being an angel, was strangely human. At least, human in the ways that V1 knew, from the brief period of time in which it could remember humanity. 

Humans were selfish, full of themselves. This selfishness left openings, entry points in their flesh armour for destruction. And if there was one thing that humans did not need, it was more ways to destroy them. They were already soft and palpable. And it was for this reason why they annihilated themselves. 

You would think that at some point, the humans would have learned their weakness. And, in a way, with the creation of war machines like V1, they had. Emotion was meaningless when you could build a creature from the ground up,  built to do your dirty work for you, fueled by a seemingly endless source. Expendable. 

Unfortunate, then, that those creators are now long gone.

Descending through Hell, V1 felt the angel’s presence, despite his absence. Eyes in dark corners, voices echoing through corridors, neverending surveillance, constantly bearing down on his enemy. Gabriel made it clear he wanted to be battled again. And V1 was eager to provide him with that opportunity. Every meaningless kill meant getting closer to a second battle with the angel. Showers of blood awaited it, ripe for the taking. 

It practically made V1 buzz with excitement. 

When the two met for a second time, the angel was strangely calm. Hunched over a grand instrument, back turned to the machine, he was exposed to whatever punishment it decided to impose upon him. It was strange to see the angel this way. V1 was not sure if it preferred this side of him. 

Luckily, that semblance of peace did not last long. 

The very presence of V1 infuriated the angel, and he could not keep up that facade of composure longer than what was absolutely necessary. It was amusing, really. How the angel wore his emotions on his sleeves. To a machine like V1, he was fascinating to observe. 

V1 could not blame Gabriel for his anger, however. While it didn’t feel emotions in the same way, it understood the feeling of losing, the burning that came with control slipping from its clutches. V1 had taken the angel’s false kingdom and its subjects along with it. The only thing that stood between him and his throne was the creature before him. 

Unfortunately for Gabriel, however, V1 had grown quite accustomed to the feeling of authority. 

If the angel wanted to steal this newfound power from his opponent, then he would have to earn it. And V1 was not about to go down easy. 

THIS IS GOING TO BE FUN.

V1 had grown a sizable arsenal since their last meeting. New weapons, tools to play with the angel in battle. It had also grown stronger, smarter. Simply teleporting away was no longer enough from Gabriel to catch V1 off its guard.  It knew what to look for now, each mortal weakness. The angel did not attack while it was taunting the “ INSIGNIFICANT MACHINE ”. Foolish. Almost laughable. V1 relished it. 

Gabriel folded wonderfully under V1's might. Each crack of a bone resonated pure ecstasy. His flesh squelched against each bullet the machine fired; each nail embedded in his supple skin. Everything V1 could throw at the angel, it did. The reward - succulent, FRESH blood, rained down in waves upon the microscopic pores that littered its metal body. V1’s fuel gauge was full, but it craved more. It wanted to be drunk off his blood. Winning this fight was no longer enough. It wanted to absolutely desecrate him. 

And, as luck would have it, Gabriel was practically handing that opportunity to it on a silver platter. 

V1 watched as vibrant maroon flooded from Gabriel's exposed palms, his earth-shaking screams, his CHALLENGE, running through its processor again and again. 

"COME AND TAKE IT FROM ME"

If V1 had the capacity, it could've sung. 

Was the angel finally beaten down? Had his unwavering will to live finally been vanquished? V1 didn't know. Nor did it care. All it knew was that it was being given a free meal that it would absolutely devour. It was on him in seconds. Fans whirling, artificial mind racing. All it could think of was the next gush of blood, wonderful, thick sustenance. It was addicted. 

“ Are you dying, Machine? ” 

The angel’s words wrenched V1 from its stupor. It was not aware he was still able to speak, let alone, ask such a dastardly question. 

The question was dastardly because it was true. V1 was dying. And V1 did not like that Gabriel knew this. 

The war machine had never considered annoyance as an option before. It had never been in a situation that required it. And yet, letting out a series of low beeps, annoyance was the only word one could use to describe what it was feeling at the provocation. 

V1 glared down at the angel's helm, emotionless, whatever was underneath it was inlaid with secrets even the highest ranking of Hell- and perhaps, even Heaven- did not know. What did the angel look like under that thick, ‘impenetrable’ armour of his? Was he disgustingly human? Animal? A strange, undiscovered existence between the two? 

If V1 blasted the angel's brains out from the back of his skull, would his divine powers still be enough to heal him? 

The machine had to know. Curiosity was the death of humans. It was V1s playground. Gabriel was too vulnerable to play with death, uttering thoughtless challenges.  He needed to be put in his place. 

V1 rammed its revolver into Gabriel’s neck, warranting a series of gasps and coughs as the angel’s airway was unsympathetically cut off. V1 had come to love the sounds of pain that the angel made. Each one, different from the last. There was so much to learn with him, so much to discover. Gabriel’s pain was V1’s history book, and V1 was holding the pen. 

But Gabriel was just as stubborn as V1. Neither one of them would go down without their greatest of efforts. And it seemed the angel wanted to make this known. 

V1 found it stumbling backward as a mixture of saliva and blood collided with its optic. The holy creature had spat at him.

“ Kill me, you bastard. ” 

The challenge was clear. In its exhilaration, any rational thoughts, any inkling of surviving, of needing more blood that remained in the machine, was absolute. It wanted to destroy. And who was V1 to deny a dying angel its last wish? 

V1 pulled the trigger. 

It did not fire. 

Confused, the machine stared at its weapon, bringing it closer to its optic to examine it closer. Somehow, it had run out of ammunition. 

[W H A T.] 

V1’s voice bank had gone so long without being used that the act of saying one simple word was almost painful, the sounds coming out in gravely, almost unrecognizable frequencies. V1 itself was shocked at its own vocalization. 

Never, in its long onslaught, had the machine ever gotten to a point where it had needed more ammo. No fight had ever been long enough, no opponent strong enough to require the machine’s full arsenal. 

V1 was motionless, hovering above what should have been its kill. The room was silent, save for the loud whirr of V1’s cooling fans, and Gabriel’s labored breathing, melding together in a strange monotone melody. 

V1 had never been denied its kill before. 

A single sentence began to repeat in its mind, over and over, growing louder and louder with each pass. 

YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME.
YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME.
YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME.

YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY THIS TIME.

The angel was going to die there if V1 did nothing. If the machine left him lying on this unholy floor, he would bleed out, alone and defeated. And V1 did not want to accept that this could happen.

If V1 was not the one to kill him, then Gabriel simply could not die. 

Without even really knowing what it was doing, V1 pinned the enormous angel down with each available limb, subduing every pitiful movement with a slam of its heavy arms. The angel, of course, tried to protest, and V1 only felt its newfound annoyance mounting at each attempt. 

[STILL.]

The word was not a suggestion, but a demand. V1 did not enjoy speaking. But the angel, rightfully confused, kept pursuing answers, and V1 forced itself to speak again. 

[STILL.] [STAY.]

At least the words seemed to work. The angel - finally- remained quiet, submitting himself to the creature that was trying to eviscerate him only moments before. 

V1 reached behind its back, and did something drastic. 

Its sensors SCREAMED at it, horrid, grating sounds. A thousand different warnings flashed in front of its vision, warning of imminent danger, of death. Every joint in the machine’s body seared in protest, but V1 ignored it. 

Within seconds, its fuel tank was firmly grasped in front of it, limp wires spewing blood on both V1 and Gabriel, still fresh and usable from their battle. V1 did not have much time if it wanted to make use of this ghastly opportunity. Tank still in hand, the machine dug angrily into Gabriel’s exposed flesh. 

The angel, expectedly, howled in excruciating pain. V1 did not feel sympathy for him. However, it did understand. It had absolutely destroyed him in battle, and now was torturing him furthermore. At the very least, V1 did pity him. 

Somewhat. 

The angel should be grateful. 

His greatest enemy was saving his pathetic life. Weren’t human relations transactional? The angel should be thanking his savior. A machine would not share its precious wiring with just anyone. Much less its fuel. 

V1 found itself bearing thoughts of resentment, stifling any sense of remorse it might have felt. It knew this was absurd. So why didn’t it stop? 

Simple. It was too late to turn back now. 

A rhythmic ebbing sensation enveloped the machine as its crude doctoring began to do its work, the machine and the divine’s blood mixing into one. Its sensors were still screeching, begging it to stop, but V1 was all but accustomed to ignoring screams begging to stop. Its own body was nothing different than the prey it had so brutally murdered. 

FUEL LEVEL : 81%

FUEL LEVEL : 73% 

FUEL LEVEL : 65%

“ Why are you doing this?”

It seemed the angel was regaining his strength. His incessant questions had begun once again. V1 remained silent. 

“And don’t give me that silence.” 

Ah. It seemed the machine was no longer going to be able to avoid annoyances. V1 gave a simple answer. 

[BLOOD.] 

It was true, after all. Blood was V1’s life source. Its entire existence revolved around obtaining it. If Gabriel perished, his blood would be useless. There was no use in keeping a corpse around. 

But yet, V1 did not seem satisfied with that answer. V1 did not feel compelled to lie. But the answer it gave was not a whole truth. It did not keep Gabriel alive simply to feed on his blood. 

There was no reason for the angel to know this, however. After he was healed, they would become enemies once more. V1 did not heal him because it wanted Gabriel alive. It kept him alive because it needed him alive. 

FUEL LEVEL : 35%

FUEL LEVEL : 30%

FUEL LEVEL : 20%

FUEL LEVEL : CRITICAL 

It seemed the time for peace was up. 

Uttering no words, V1 ripped its fuel tank from where it was attached to Gabriel, excess blood splattering its already drenched arms. The angel let out a meek groan at the sudden taking of his new lifeline, his body instinctively following it as V1 slowly held it further from his open wound. 

In truth, V1 did not know how it was going to reattach the thing. It was still fueling him, but severely damaged, and if anything, nothing short of a nuisance now. It was a lot more versatile when actively melded to the metal body it belonged to. Regardless, there were other objectives to attend to. 

V1 stared down at the angel, still captured helplessly below him, wounds still very much open and festering. Giving him blood alone would not save him. 

Despite its sensors screaming at it to seek blood and recover, V1 decided to stay with the holy being for a bit longer. 

Only to make sure its prey didn’t die outside of its hands, of course.

Chapter Text

Are there any amount of good deeds that undo a life of sin? 

What measures a creature's worth? 

Under the guise of godliness, atrocities were nothing but necessary evil. 

When one was faced with the unhinged jaws of death, they certainly had ample space to think on such things. 

Reverence amongst the ranks of heaven was easy to come by. Blindly following the Light of the Father and enforcing his Godly policies was an easy key to unlock the simple hearts of the divine.

Sitting high upon their immortal thrones, the angels needn’t worry themselves with the triflings of the human race. The death of their kind had been saddening, but it was merely a blip in the celestial calendar. War was nothing new to the divine, nor was death or disease. Of course, there were always those amongst the ranks who spoke against it, but their feeble voices were dealt with swiftly and silently, a meek whisper amongst a proud chorus, made up of policies millions upon millions of years old.

The disappearance of The Father, however, incited such a chaos within both Heaven and Hell, that even the most privileged within its ranks were forced to pay it heed. Left without a ruler and a purpose, judgment of mortals was passed on to those who had no place in it. The problem of Hell overflowing was no longer something that could simply be swept under the guise of scandal.

Whispers amongst the ranks of Heaven, naturally, began to surface about the happenings of God’s last creation. Of the sinners within it growing restless, breaking past their primitive ways of survival, and instead, attempting to revolt against their divine oppressors. 

Gabriel, being amongst the highest ranked in both Heaven and The Council, had heard about this firsthand. While the thought of those creatures attempting to gain freedom disgusted him, the threat was disposed of with the swiftness and ease one would expect from the right hand of God himself. The angels, for a short period, once again knew peace.

After some time, rumors began to spread once more. This time, telling of a threat that sounded so absurd it had made the Archangel laugh in the face of the citizen who suggested it. 

A machine rapidly descending through the ranks of Hell, annihilating every being that crossed its path? Absurd. 

The machines that populated Hell were nothing more than animals like their sinner companions. They might have been created for some greater purpose, but now, they were rendered useless, feeding off remnants of blood and decaying lines of code that defined their every move. There was simply no world in which one of them could become a formidable threat to the Heavens. 

Still, Gabriel found himself curious. 

He wanted to see this thing with his own eyes, to see the being that had struck such fear into the hearts of so many of his comrades amongst the Council. Descending into Hell once more, Gabriel decided he would track this beast down himself. 

Gabriel, as fate would have it, had gravely underestimated the object. 

He had managed to lay a hand on it once, and only once, ripping one of its shiny limbs from its circuits in a firework show of electricity and blood. Perhaps it was that small victory against the machine that had been his downfall, as the creature did not allow itself to be hurt again. Humiliated and beaten in his own arena, Gabriel had retreated from Hell to the Palace of Heaven, only to be met with arms that were less than welcoming. 

His Light, the driving force that defined an angel's existence, was agonizingly extracted from his divine body, leaving only what was necessary for him to continue to live, a dim flicker that threatened to extinguish at the slightest moment of weakness.

Gabriel had never felt so hollow, left on his own as a pathetic husk of the mighty warrior he used to be. To have everything he once knew uprooted in a single battle… the angel was beside himself. Gabriel had not originally felt strongly towards the machine, feeling more curious than anything towards the creature, believing it to be equal, if not lesser, to a simple sinner amongst the depths of Hell. But in the aftermath of this defeat, Gabriel felt a hate so strong within him it rattled the very stars. 

The archangel was given one chance. 24 hours for one last attempt to enact his revenge against the creature that had stolen everything he had worked so tirelessly for. 

And the tendons of fate, ever so ironic, had stolen that from him opportunity from him too. 

[ ]

The machine hovered above Gabriel, its piercing gaze stark against the darkness of the Cathedral. The… thing that it had crudely attached to him only moments before dangled above the angel’s head, dripping what Gabriel could only assume was his own blood. He felt nauseated looking upon it, and tore his gaze away. 

Attempting to move, Gabriel felt searing pain in every crevice of his body imaginable, running through him in vicious waves. With a groan, he once again admitted defeat, and slumped his body against the ground once more. The angel was acutely aware of the unmoving presence of the bot's body on his own as he dropped, each of its sleek legs- positioned on either side of his hips- clanking against his heavy armour. 

Feeling indignation rising, Gabriel used his rising strength to scoff at it. 

“You creatures are disgusting.” 

No visible response. Typical. Gabriel prodded again. 

“You’ve healed me now- what are you waiting for? Is there some kind of waiting period with you war machines? Hit your kill limit, or something?” 

The machine's bulbous eye contracted. It lifted one of its hands, and began motioning. Gabriel stared at its movements, confused for a moment, before realizing it was attempting to sign something to him in the common tongue.

Gabriel let out a low chuckle. “Afraid I don’t understand.” He said simply. 

The machine let out a series of low tones, and rolled its rectangular head. 

Fatigue- having turned the angel into nothing short of a zombie- did not allow the angel to react as the machine suddenly lunged in close to Gabriel’s face, grabbing his chin from under his helm with a force that was suitable for the warrior it was. 

[ YOU ARE MINE. ]

Perhaps it was the lack of blood, the exertion from almost dying at least 10 different times, or just simply confusion, that caused Gabriel’s heart to lurch violently forward in his chest. 

“ What ?” He sputtered. 

The machine’s yellow wings fluttered behind it, mimicking the contractions in its yellow lense. Its grip on Gabriel’s chin tightened, and it spoke again. 

[ PREY. ] 

The healing trick the machine performed on him must not have worked, the thing must’ve pulled the wires out too quickly, or something, because Gabriel felt as if he might faint. Hell, while already practically melting, seemed to grow even hotter. 

“And what makes you think you have that kind of authority?” Gabriel spat back, attempting to inch his head away from his captor in front of him. It did not allow him the luxury of retreating.  

Wrenching Gabriel’s armoured head towards him, the machine shoved its optic against a scar along the angel’s neck. With a single clawed finger, it reopened the wound and drew blood, the fluid dripping down its blue frame, eliciting a sequence of sickeningly pleased noises from it, akin to that of a strange mechanical bird. Relishing in the maroon fuel for a few seconds more, the machine eventually pulled its head back, staring at its victim through its bloodstained glass. 

Gabriel’s chest was heaving. 

“You really do just want to use me.” He croaked. He feared this was a losing battle. “You sick fuck-” 

His words were cut off by his own frantic gasp for air as the machine let go of his chin in a swiping motion, its claw effortlessly traveling back through the wound it had created. It stared down at him, obviously pleased with itself, false wings flitting at a much faster pace now. Gabriel’s head reeled, mind awhirr with thoughts, none of which were pleasant or welcome in the slightest. 

“I won’t let you-” He snarled, clenching his fists at his sides. “I’ll kill myself before you can, I’ll bash my brains out- and then I’ll be useless to you-” 

Gabriel’s face made contact with the ground before he could utter another word, the bang from his helmet colliding with the floor echoing throughout the hallway, Forcing himself to look meekly upwards, Gabriel found himself at the machine's feet, one of its limbs still raised from the motion of kicking him. 

His lungs heaved with effort, every tendon and muscle his newly mortal body possessed screaming for mercy, with no relief in sight. 

This was ungodly. Everything about it. The fact that he was being so severely beaten by a lowly machine, the fact that he was practically prostrating before it… and the fact that his heart was practically beating straight out from his chest at the thought of it. 

Gabriel was met once again with a pool of his own blood as the machine placed its foot on the side of his head, pressing him unsympathetically into the floor. Gabriel gagged at the stench of his gore. 

“Let me go, you bastard.” He spat. “Your weapons are useless to you now. Leave me here to die like the rest of your prey .” 

The word had been playing on repeat in the angel’s mind. He wasn’t even an opponent to this thing. In its eyes, he was animal, primitive. Prey. 

[ HELL BORES ME. ] 

The machine’s tone was low, calculated. 

[ YOU - ARE NEW. ]

The machine, despite its small size, towered over Gabriel from its position atop him. He had been a fool to ever underestimate its prowess, but the sentiment was useless now. 

“I didn’t ask to be your entertainment.” 

The machine hummed. It seemed to be thinking, and with every passing moment of silence, Gabriel found his patience growing thinner and thinner. His body was betraying him under the ever present threat of death and the might of his conqueror. 

Angels were taught not to feel shame from the moment of their creation. A truly godly being did not bow its head to such mortal weaknesses. These teachings had become something so deeply ingrained in divine society that many creatures, both mortal and not,  believed the angels did not have the capacity for it at all. 

This sentiment was horribly, embarrassingly incorrect. 

Angels could certainly feel shame. They could feel any emotion that a human being was capable of. But a humanoid angel was weak. Vulnerable. 

Gabriel was weak now. 

Feelings coursed through him, sensations that he had not felt in millennia, and no longer knew how to name.

 To feel such things, at the hands of something less than human… it was blasphemous, treachery, even. Had the people of heaven somehow caught wind of such an occurrence, the scandal would have been one that rippled across the stars. 

Not that it mattered. Gabriel was a dying man. It seemed somehow he had forgotten this. 

Haggard, the angel met the machine’s gaze once more. 

“If I let you have your way with me, would that make you satisfied, Machine?” 

A pause. 

The creature shook its head, silent. Raising an arm, it signed something once again, this time, something that Gabriel did understand. 

[ NO. ]

Gabriel chuckled. He should have known. 

Something about this notion excited him. The fact that, no matter how much of a fight he put up, no matter how gruesome a death the creature would decide to give him, nothing would truly make it happy. Gabriel did love a challenge. 

“Then, I dare you, machine.” 

“ Do your worst. ” 

The frantic pace of Gabriel’s pulse was no longer something he could pretend to ignore.

 He wanted it on him. He wanted to analyze that ugly blank golden stare up close, feel the impossible coldness of its steel against his warm, exposed flesh. This was no longer curiosity. It was no longer hate. Gabriel found the words for this feeling once more. 

This feeling was lust. 

Pooling deep in his core, the realization of this only worsened the feeling. 

“What are you waiting for?” Gabriel's breath was haggard. This damn creature loved to tease. Did the thing somehow know he had ulterior motives? Gabriel would not put it past the cocky bastard. 

“I’m yours to play with.” 

Nothing mattered. He was going to die anyway. The hands which carried his sentence out were no longer relevant. Gabriel wanted so badly to indulge.  

As if by the grace of God himself, the machine finally moved, removing its foot from Gabriel’s skull and allowing him to sit up once more. As typical for it, the thing moved impossibly close to the angel, each movement of its gears audible from the proximity. It used one of its thin fingers to grab at the bottom of Gabriel’s helmet, lifting it up ever so slightly. An invitation. 

“No.” Gabriel firmly declined, staring it down.

Some small, stubborn part of him still wanted to keep some sort of dignity. Thousands of lifetimes of ideology could not simply be undone in an instance, after all. The machine was obviously annoyed, beeping and chirping at him with indignation, but did not make any further attempt to argue. After a moment, its plated hands abandoned the helmet and traveled sluggishly downward, tracing the golden surface of Gabriel’s thick armoured breastplate, saturated with blood that was no longer useful due to its age. It hovered for a moment there, seeming to analyze what it was gazing upon, before moving on to the gap in the angel’s armour, where it had attached that grotesque tank on its back to him, saving his life from the brink of true death. 

Gabriel did not know if he was grateful to it for saving him. 

What he did know was that the creature's hands had not stopped tantalizingly exploring the angel’s body, tracing every wound it had inflicted with a strange gentleness it had never shown before. Gabriel found himself flinching into its hand with each touch, must against whatever better judgment he had left. The angel sucked in a sharp burst of air as the touches dipped below where any sensible being would have allowed. 

“Machine.’’ His voice was low, breath bated. “You know not what you do.” 

The creature stopped, tipping its rectangular head at him. There was text running across its yellow screen, scrolling at speeds Gabriel could not attempt to decipher. What kind of thoughts could possibly be running through the things head? It wasn’t like the creature was feeling the same things as his angel companion. Such a possibility was absurd. It blinked at him once, the lense inside contracting like a camera’s, and the text was gone. 

[ I AM NOT STUPID. ] 

Hearing that thing’s voice would never become something normal for the angel. His breath caught in his chest for the umpteenth time. It seemed he had been found out after all. 

“And what,” Gabriel retaliated, lips curling.  “Are you just going to torture me further?” 

The machine gave Gabriel another one of its long stares. Its hand still hovering dangerously above Gabriel’s waistline, tracing small circles into the ragged skin, taunting. 

[ NO. ] It replied. 

Gabriel found this left more questions than answers. What pleasure could this thing possibly derive from indulging him? Gabriel forced himself to meet its gaze, body burning with desire.

“Then what are you going to do to me, creature?” 

The machine’s shoulders raised, letting out gleeful chirping sounds.

With his limited knowledge of sign, Gabriel could make out one word. 

[ USE.  ]

Chapter Text

The angel was magnificent. Glistening in his own blood under the power of the machine. And finally, it seemed it had finally given up its senseless fighting. 

It was completely and utterly vulnerable. 

V1 found throughout its murderous descent through Hell that living creatures did not truly seem to live until they were brought to the very brink of death. With their bodies fighting every neurological signal telling them to give in to death and shut down, each creature reacted differently, their mortal natures shining through in a beautiful moment of what could almost be described as humanity in a world that was completely devoid of it. 

 V1 did not think such a uniquely mortal phenomenon would apply to a higher creature such as the angel. But it had been beautifully, blissfully wrong. The angel was glowing. He might have been saved by his enemy’s generous gift of blood, but he was not safe. His body still fought. And it could -very easily- still lose. V1 could keep him here, like this, for as long as it wanted. 

And it intended to. 

With its newfound freedom, V1 could explore the angel in ways it had once never been permitted to. Metallic hands met cold armour. Plating, helm, breastplate. The two creatures were not all that different. One, built from steel to be a weapon of man, the other, shrouding his form in what, to the machine, was a cruel mockery, protecting his fragile skin from the harsh vices of the mortal world. 

V1 grew bored with armour. Its limbs naturally wandered to exposed skin. The angel’s flesh was warm -  no... it was hot. Feverish. The sensors placed on V1’s fingertips tingled with the foreign sensation of an uncharacteristically gentle touch. There was no practical benefit to this feature, no feasible explanation for the presence of artificial nerve endings on the creature. V1 did not find itself resenting this. 

It seemed the angel shared its sentiment. 

“Machine.” His weak voice pierced V1’s audio receptors. “You know not what you do.” 

Was the angel being intentionally ignorant? His hatred for creatures of V1’s kind ran deep, but V1 did not realize this applied to his interpretation of their intelligence as well. The angel truly thought V1 was incapable of understanding even the simplest of human emotions. In other words, he thought it was brainless. 

Diagnostics scrolled at an impossible speed across V1’s vision. 

FANS REACHING CAPACITY - 70%

R - 30% L - 40%

BRAIN - INSUFFICIENT FUEL 

WINGS L : R  - INSUFFICIENT FUEL 

REFUEL REQUIRED 

REFUEL REQUIRED 

REFUEL REQUIRED 

REFUEL REQUIRED 

Annoying. V1 knew it could last longer than what its programming might suggest. It was not in mortal danger just yet. 

Forcing the text away with a blink, V1 stared down at its prey. 

[ I AM NOT STUPID. ] It vocalized. 

In a fashion typical of the angel, he persisted, asking more incessant questions. 

“Are you going to torture me further?” He asked. 

‘Torture’ to the machine and angel meant two very different things. Of course, to V1, the idea of this was exciting, but it knew that the literal sense was not of what Gabriel spoke. V1 had never seen a more pathetic creature in its life. It answered simply, as simple answers seemed to please the angel. 

[ NO. ]

The angel’s body shifted underneath his captor. V1 noticed a suitable change in the creature’s body temperature. The angel berated V1 with more questions. Tired of speaking, it lifted its hands to sign. 

[ I AM GOING TO USE YOU, ANGEL. ] 

V1 did not need a verbal response from the angel to know that it understood. It squirmed underneath him, body betraying what no language could. V1 had the angel right where it wanted him. And, conveniently, right where the angel seemed to want him, too. 

V1 returned its hands to Gabriel’s body, agonizingly, slowly. 

‘“ You know not what you do .”’ The words rang through the machine’s memory. It could have laughed, had it been capable. It knew very well what it did. 

It sluggishly pried the angel’s legs apart with two of its normal arms, relishing in his feeble attempts to fight the movement. It slotted a leg in the open space.

The angel groaned beneath him. 

“M… machine-” he huffed. “If you… continue… I don’t-” 

V1 responded by moving against his agitated body once, a slow, methodical motion that caused its captor to shudder beneath him. The wings he was so proud of fluttered beneath him, still largely pinned under his own weight.

Now that the two were out of combat, V1’s processors allowed it to fine tune visual details, no longer needing to prioritize the features that helped it stay alive. The angel’s wings were organic, consisting of thousands of sleek feathers. Each had a subtle blue sheen, rippling through the creature's wings in a manner reminiscent of breathing. The color reminded V1 of the false sky in limbo. Peaceful. 

V1 grabbed at them. 

“MACHINE.” The angel’s voice boomed. “UNHAND ME.” 

V1 beeped in indignance. The angel’s feathers were soft, clenched between its thumb and forefinger. It did not let go. 

[ WHAT AM I ALLOWED? ] It vocalized. 

Talking was becoming easier with repetition, but V1 did not enjoy it. The angel was too stupid to understand its signs. So speak, it must. 

 “ [ I’M YOURS ] ’’ It mimicked the angel’s earlier words. His permission . 

[ DOES THAT NOT MEAN - ]

The angel squirmed from underneath it. His wings were flashing. Pulsating . The sensation against V1’s palms was unusual, but not unwelcome. Other colors had begun to flash through them. A radiant gold fought to overtake the blue, moving in rhythmic waves. 

“ I- fuck , creature… I know. ” The angel responded. “ Everything- about this- YOU .. Is wrong. ” 

While the angel pointlessly spoke, V1 enamored itself with his feathers, caressing them with its fingertips as they flashed colors. Its hands ran along every inch, observing the differences in structure as the feathers got closer to where they connected to their host near the base of his spine. Reaching the point where they connected, V1 grasped it fervently. 

A flash of gold omitted from the feathers- so intense it temporarily overloaded V1’s visual receptors. The machine reeled back and felt the angel’s body contort underneath it. A sound escaped the angel, one that was almost… animalistic. 

V1 allowed itself a moment for its vision to recover, and hesitantly, curiously , slid its clenched hand along the stretch of wing emerging from the angel's body. 

The reaction given was almost instant. The angel’s body arched against its touch, and he let out yet another foreign noise, considerably louder than the first time. Scanning its memory for sounds that were similar, V1 came to realize that the angel was whining . 

V1 did not fight many creatures that made vocalizations similar to this, at least, that it could recall. In fact, the closest thing it could grasp was a sound produced by another machine, a screech uttered in protest before its life had been promptly ended. 

“ Quit staring at me like that. ” The angel’s voice abruptly ended V1 wracking its own brain. “ I doubt you would like it if someone - grabbed… haaahh.. your wings.. ” 

Truthfully, no. V1 would not enjoy that sensation.

But the angel’s wings were so enticing, so alive . 

V1 did not let them go. 

Against protests, it grasped them even tighter, watching as they flashed their brilliant colors in wordless response to its stimuli. The machine’s movements were slow, deliberate. The angels whining had a pleasant sort of ring to it. Creatures who did not know how to contain their visual and auditory signals of weakness were usually eliminated easily. It was truly a miracle amongst men this one had managed to exist for so long undisturbed. How privileged it had grown. How far it had fallen at the hands of something it deemed so low. 

V1 found itself moving in tandem with each stroke of the angel’s wings. Still perched dangerously between his legs, its metal body pressed into unarmoured skin as if magnetically pulled together. The signs of the angel’s arousal were impossible to ignore. He groaned underneath him with every stroke along his wings, entire body shuddering as it teased. With one particularly reckless touch of its hands, the angel exclaimed profusely and blindly grabbed upwards, catching an exposed wire in V1’s plating. 

V1 buzzed loudly and jerked back. The angel’s hand quickly retreated with the movement, hovering in mid air beside the machine’s body.

V1’s fans whirred. 

It did not care for the feeling that came with having that part of its body touched.

It stared down at Gabriel, temporarily easing its onslaught on his body and wings. 

[ DO NOT TOUCH ME. ] 

Despite no longer being caressed, the angel's body still heaved with every breath, and he spoke. 

“ It was an accident, you cretin. ”

 Every word from the angel was an obvious struggle for breath.

“ But maybe, creature , if you fucked me properly, I may consider listening to you. ”

The two stared at each other, silent. V1 knew a challenge when it heard one. 

How impatient this creature was. V1 wanted to toy with it. V1 was nowhere near finished, nor satisfied, with teasing the angel's body. But it did not favor getting taken advantage of. The angel could not get away with thinking it could lay its hands on V1’s body whenever he felt like it. 

Slowly, unwillingly, it unhanded Gabriel’s wings, sitting upright in the space in front of his lap. 

[ YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU DO ] 

It repeated the angel’s own ignorant words at him, monotone. 

“ Show me. ” 

If there was one thing the angel actually knew how to do, it was how to rile V1 up. 

V1 utilized its many arms to once again pin the angel to the ground, with none of the gentleness it had shown before. If the angel wanted that badly to use V1 as some sort of sadistic sex object, then he was going to have to play by its rules. 

With its remaining arm, it yanked at the angel’s waistband, one last tease to rouse the angel’s easily swayed emotions.  His armour was laughably impractical. It covered practically nothing that was vital.  The angel relied on the fact that it believed it couldn’t be touched and nothing more. 

That made things easier for those few who got lucky enough to get this close. 

“ Haah. That's right, machine. Show me what you really know. ” 

V1 found that it was growing very, very tired of the angel’s cocky vocalizations. Tired of forcing itself to talk. There were other ways it could get him to listen. With a quick jerk of its knee to the groin, the angel buckled underneath him, moaning in pain. 

That was more like it. 

What did sex with an angel look like? From its limited knowledge of them, angels seemed to be genderless, lacking in defining secondary sex characteristics. Gabriel was the only humanoid angel V1 had the privilege of coming across, but it knew that Gabriel was different from the others. His voice and physique suggested that he was male. It was entirely possible, however, that the angel chose to make himself appear that way. Did those things change when an angel was put in a vulnerable position such as this? 

It seemed there were still many things to be learnt about the creature before it.

Every inch of this creature's divine body was data to be collected. 

The machine tore Gabriel’s clothes from his body with newfound fervor, abuzz with the idea of acquiring more knowledge. His bare skin glistened against the dim lighting of their candlelit surroundings. The angel’s legs shivered against the cold of the floor, and shamefully attempted to close upon being exposed. For someone that practically begged the machine to have sex with him, the angel was agonizingly contradictory. 

V1 did not know what it expected. The angel was neither biologically female nor male. In fact, biological was an improper term to use for what lay in the space there. 

It was angelic. Cosmic. What could only be practically described as a void. Infinite.

 Was the angel the heavens itself? 

The angel’s breath heaved. Hollow. Anticipatory. 

“ What, machine? Not what you were expecting from me? ” 

V1 found it could only beep at him. It did not feel compelled to use words. It was fascinated. Its fans whirred. The effort of processing what it was perceiving, the onslaught of brand new information- was causing its body to spend more fuel than it could afford to spare. Staring for too long was dangerous. And yet it was enthralled. 

“ Don’t tease me further, machine. You’ve humiliated me enough. ” 

V1 continued to stare down at him. Words still did not appeal to it. It would not continue to make things easy for the angel by speaking to him. It met his gaze through his helmet. Or at least, what it could only assume was his gaze. It did not know if it possessed eyes. There were many things it might never know. 

“ Please. ” 

V1 liked when the angel begged. 

“Please , machine. ”

It had no choice but to indulge him. 

Gripping either of Gabriel’s legs with an arm, it found itself using its parts in ways it had never considered before. Carefully, it slid its metallic fingers in the angelic void. 

The angel erupted in vocalization, his whines louder than anything the machine had evoked in him before. His body wrenched into V1’s open hands, following every miniscule movement it made. 

“ Oh God . ” 

Seemed the angel had abandoned all concepts of blasphemy. 

V1 did not fully know what it expected when it entered him. Logically, it thought the space would have been cold, empty. Like the maws of the galaxy it so resembled. It was not cold. It was searing. Hot like the surface of twenty suns. It enveloped V1 in a way that could only be described as welcoming. Its processors did not know what to make of it. 

With each movement of the machine's fingers, the heat intensified, reacting in the same conscious manner as the angel’s wings had. Every part of this creature seemed to have a mind of its very own. It was fascinating. V1 needed to study it. It needed more. 

Tooling with the angel like this fired synapses within the machine that it did not know how to name. A strange feeling of gratification, like the sensation it felt when making a particularly gaudy kill. Killing was rewarding in its own way. Despite the need for fuel, V1 enjoyed doing it for the temporary gratification it granted, a separate feeling from its instinctual need for sustenance. The swifter a kill, the more fuel it conserved, allowing it to progress and kill more. It was like playing a game with itself, one of life and death. An ecstatic toying of the strings of fate. 

V1 was not killing Gabriel. It was not harming him, in the literal sense. There was no fuel to be gained from this interaction of theirs, no ‘style points’ to be sent to the terminals that monitored its every move. So why, then, did it elicit the same reaction? Why did its internal reward system register this in the same vein, if the experiences were so absurdly different? 

V1 found itself wondering what the angel beneath it was feeling, in that divine body he possessed. What did sexual gratification feel like for a ‘mortal’ creature that was capable of it? Being able to respond to every miniscule touch, experience stimulus in such a way that prompted such extreme reactions such as the angel had demonstrated. Vulnerable, human ….

V1 could only process what it knew. Killing thousands of enemies at once might bring on the same sort of reaction. If such a thing was possible. Overfueling itself on blood, perhaps- or purposely overriding its systems to max out positive reward signals. These scenarios might possibly simulate a feeling close to ecstasy. 

It supposed it would never know. It was only humoring the angel to study it, get in closer, and eventually feed off its blood once more, when the need inevitably rose. To use . Whatever it was feeling internally must be some sort of oversight. A glitch in its programming brought on from its forceful removal of a fuel tank. It was not worth lingering upon. 

The angel was a mess beneath it, bucking up against its fingers as if the entire world depended on him getting off. It was truly fascinating, how little it had to do to please the divine creature. V1 had barely done anything to elevate his experience, and yet he acted as if each touch was something completely new to him. He was practically doing all the work for it. 

In fact, the angel’s extreme reactions to his treatment made V1 wonder just how little it had to do to please him. Need it even touch him at all? 

It wanted to test this theory. 

It took a risk, and stood up, removing its fingers from the angel. They emerged hot, almost melting , at least, that’s what the machine’s sensors were telling it. It had never interacted with something quite so otherworldly. Warnings flashed dully in its optic, falsely assuming that the machine’s limb was in some sort of danger of overheating. Since ripping its own tank out, V1 had grown quite accustomed to pointless warnings plaguing its hearing and vision. It barely noticed them, focused on things that were much more important, and significantly more entertaining. 

The angel, predictably, did not care for being let go of. It whined in protest, pleading meekly at the absence. 

“ M-M’chine…what are you… ” 

Limbs now free from being pinned beside him, the angel reached once again towards V1, grabbing at whatever part of it was closest, in this instance, it was one of its legs. V1 felt itself freeze against the touch. It had made itself very clear when it told the angel not to lay a hand on it. But the angel was not one to be adept at listening. The angel had not touched its internal wiring this time.

 It supposed it would allow this. If the angel behaved. 

“You said you would fuck me, creature. Properly.” 

V1 had not, technically, said any such thing. It had repeated the angel’s own words back at him. It was no promise, no exclamation. The angel took its words the way he wanted to hear them.

V1 was sick of his purposeful ignorance. 

It was not going to speak. It was not going to sign. It was not going to continue to give the angel any sort of satisfaction when he could not be bothered to put effort into understanding it in even the simplest of ways. If he continued to disregard the machine, he would be made to regret it. 

Clicking its wings, it stared at the creature below him, silent. Pointed. 

With no further indication, it dropped down on the angel, straddling his naked hips. 

The angel jerked into the touch, grabbing desperately at metal thighs. His nails raked into plating, pathetically, providing V1 with the smallest amount of blood upon their breakage. 

“ Hah.. ah.. heavy - ” 

Good. 

Utilizing its secondary arms, it pried Gabriel’s fingers from its sides, drawing more blood as he attempted to stay latched on. The sensation of new blood, however scarce, pinged its sensors, teasing it, making it crave more. Its fingers traced the fissures in the angel's palms, created when he had taunted it with his blood. The wounds festered, red and swollen. It stared at the scabbing, tempting it with its presence alone. 

V1, unlike the angel, had control. 

It dropped his hands, letting them fall to the floor. A risk, definitely. It wanted to see if the angel would behave. The angel attempted to reposition himself upon the floor, but was unsuccessful under the weight of his captor. 

V1 enjoyed the feeling of having the angel right where it wanted him. Its body temperature had notably heightened, plating, which normally served to cool itself, was warm to the touch. Its limbs twitched in anticipation, eager to see just how far it could push this creature. Even the angel's incessant remarks provided a strange sort of thrill, sparking an unexplored feeling of impatience within it. 

V1 led things with an experimental roll of its hips. As expected, the angel responded within an instant, matching its movements with his body. Pleasured moans rolled from his lips, grateful for being touched again. V1 had no sexual organs. It did not need them. It needn’t even enter the angel to please it. It seemed the machine’s predictions were correct. It truly could read this creature like an open book. 

The angel babbled incoherently underneath him as it sluggishly ground into him. Many of his utterances were incoherent, more sound than words. He was behaving uncharacteristically well. V1 presumed it could reward him for that. Just a little. 

It grabbed the angel’s wings once more. One side in each arm, gripping feathers tightly with heavy hands. Their blinding colors flashed in sync, creating a lightshow out of the angel’s pleasure. V1 stroked them fervently, no longer with the slow curiosity it had given before. It knew what touching him like this would do. These movements were deliberate. It rocked its hips in time with each touch of a wing, relishing in knowing the angel didn’t know what to do with itself. His legs shook violently, sliding along the floor in an attempt to gain grounding. V1 was astonished that the angel was still able to bear its weight, knowing how weak it made him. 

“ Please. Please- please. Machine. ” 

It seemed the angel was slipping. It was amusing, after being stripped of his power, put in his place, the angel only knew how to beg. 

“ Please. V-V1. ” 

The machine froze with a buzz. 

It did not consider that the angel knew its name. 

It did not consider the angel using it any sort of possibility. 

It brought its head down to the angel’s level, staring. 

Its processors didn’t know what to make of having the proper name used against it. No longer “creature.”. No longer “machine.” 

V1. 

That was its name. 

Fans whirred. Fuel pumped to vital places. Diagnostics scrolled. It couldn’t afford to be caught off its guard like this. 

The angel stirred beneath it. His wings flapped helplessly in the machine’s still-clenched hands. V1 couldn’t let go. The angel would escape if it let go. It just needed a moment. 

Cold hands wrenched V1 from its thoughts. It found itself with its optic less than an inch from the angel’s helm, so close it could almost see through the microscopic holes drilled in the front. 

The angel had grabbed it by its chest plating, lurching it towards him by force. It had not noticed. How had its sensors not alerted it of the sudden touch, of such an extreme intrusion? It was built to be hyper aware. Its head rang with the effort of processing what it had allowed to happen. 

“ Machine. ” 

The angel had returned to using its old titles. 

“ MACHINE. ” 

“ Listen to me. ” 

V1 felt a horrible sensation wrack its body, and suddenly, its entire world went red.