Work Text:
In achieving the purpose he desired, Gabriel found himself lost. Having done what he knew was necessary. The choice he made— to end. Realizing that with the fading of the light, he was to become illegitimate. He was finished.
But that damn machine was far from done.
Having worn him down, twice now, he was almost thankful for its innate desire to destroy him. As it had shown him the truth. That there was nothing to follow, even if the council had spoken of it so highly. There was no God. No fire. Only the ghosts of remains. There was a melancholic relief about it.
His negligence was going to get him killed. In fact, it was as if he was already dead.
Did he fear it? Maybe so. He was unsure. Certainly, the idea of his death quickly approaching did make him shudder. His holy body to be discarded as if he was nothing. What is an Angel without its halo? Its light? Its leader? Although there had been no leader, having felt there was one at least created structure.
What purpose did he serve? He felt like he was no savior. Unfit to serve even his own desire. What did he desire? He did not know— as he had only existed to serve others before.
He had nothing.
He sat upon the roof of what once was a safe haven, desecrated and destroyed. Glass so meticulously crafted of his figure smashed to pieces. Candles melted down to the stands, still almost smoldering, smoking away into the endless night.
Gabriel looked to the stars, searching fruitlessly for feelings within himself. His choices. How to spend the moments of his dying light. To repent the wrongs he had serviced to a false idol. They glittered brilliantly, although they did not help his mind become clear now that he had fulfilled his rash choice. The blood all over his hands, burning into him. Staining him— painting him of his crime for the good of heaven. His unspoken truth. To hold the head of the liar to the people who had followed like sheep to the wolf’s jaws.
He was proud, and yet…
Alone.
He knew what would happen if he did. They had spoken it to him with such desperation. But it would not slow his anger filled rampage through heaven. To destroy what had been wrongfully created in the image of something so holy, that was not meant to be worshipped.
His wings dropped low, fluttering helplessly behind his back, like a creature of its own. He’d shed his breastplate and pauldrons, leaving him with his gauntlets, faulds and greaves. Still bleeding from the encounter. He could smell it, the stench of himself, as it dripped from his mortal flesh, running into his fabrics and staining his hands red.
It excited him, in a strange way. He didn’t understand it. Maybe he never would.
He heard the crunching of glass, before there was the loud clunk of something grappling to the stone, quickly followed by that shining, yellow optic lens. In the dark, he could see the blue of its chassis. That name in its angular chest— V1. Its feet settled into what structural integrity the building had left in the crumbling rock.
Gabriel barely even moved to examine the machine.
“Can’t I spend my last hours in peace, machine?” He spoke dryly, his voice unlike how it had been before. “I wish to be alone. I don’t want to fight anymore.”
The robot made a humming noise, its tall and slender body making a slow but smooth movement to sit down next to him, those yellow, mechanically feathered wings folded shut against its back. The only foreign light coming from its camera-like face, which looked at him curiously. The gun it was holding soon tucked away, choosing mercy.
“Does ‘alone’ mean nothing to you?” Gabriel asked, turning his head to the machine. It was ever so slightly taller than him. “You have befouled my dignity enough.”
“Blood.” Was all the robot said, in a tinny automated voice. It reached out, but not before Gabriel stopped it with his hand.
“ Thank you, machine. I hardly noticed.” His shaking hand gently clasped the robot's thin wrist, smearing his own blood into its thirsty body. “Is that all you came for? My blood? You’ve already taken so much of it— You truly are insatiable. Pathetic.”
“No.”
“Then, pray tell, why must you interrupt my time alone?”
It tilted its head at him, looking down at his grasp. It slid its arm away until their palms were touching, thoroughly painting the blue metal red. Gabriel did not understand its actions, but he did not stop its hands this time. Their fingers intertwined in some unholy horrible feast; turning his blood to fuel. Like a vampire, with the wings of an Angel and body of a heretic.
It felt blasphemous— now, to which he was no stranger. This strange intimacy of man and machine. Yet, Gabriel did not halt its searching hands. The other of which stroked gently over his clavicle, making streaks of his blood with its fingers across his naked skin. Its hand, although cold and inhuman, cradled the side of his armored jaw with such tenderness. His breath faltered, becoming unsteady. “Machine,” Was all he could utter, helplessly enamored by the skillful hands which felled him, now smearing about the gore unceremoniously, and yet in such a tactile and gentle way. As if making sure he felt every little thing.
Desire .
It had never felt so good. He felt feverish as the machine’s hands roamed, decorating the both of them with past failure— turning it into something new, some intense feeling bubbling inside him, despite the guilt surrounding his past, unbeknownst to him what he was committing in the name of something that no longer existed.
Gabriel reached out to its face, his gloved hands streaking deep red lines against the cold metal, much like that of its mechanical twin. And yet, that one had failed against its predecessor. He let himself be handled by its murderous hands, feeling comforted as it dipped him back, firmly pressing fingertips into his skin to press its chest against his. He let his head roll, a sudden dizziness rushing through him. It was exhilarating, the feeling of its body on his skin, holding him so gracefully like a dancer in its arms. Indulging in the delightful defeat of a once revered form— now helpless in the arms of what started this ordeal.
He cleared his throat, composing himself. “Enough of this. I cannot be deceived by this… this tenderness.” Gabriel sighed, letting his arms slide over the robot's flat shoulders, the dread settling into him once more. “This is just a dream, isn’t it? You’ve left me for dead someplace far away from here. You’re watching me bleed, and I wish it could have turned out differently. That I do not see you as that foul, gun wielding machine.”
The robot shook its head, its thin fingers tracing down the muscles in his side before resting on the stone ground by his hips. “No. You’re not dreaming.”
“Then what is this? Don’t you have a job to finish?” He murmured, his breaths shallow. “Stop relishing my blood. There’s plenty elsewhere. Animal .”
It shook its head again.
“Stubborn.”
It hummed that same noise from before— was it a laugh? A sigh? Maybe it was nothing. Gabriel didn’t want to prod, still in fear of its skill, knowing it could turn on him at any moment. It relinquished its hands from his body, his hands falling to catch himself as he lost the stability. It moved away from him, swiftly rising to its feet.
Gabriel felt small. Looking up at the tall and thin being before him, every wire and joint curved and placed with such care to its quest. It looked down upon him, that shining eye like the golden rising sun.
It felt wrong to see holy light in something that was untouched by god.
It’s hand reached out, smooth black fingers tainted with blood— offering. It did not speak.
Gabriel looked at it, hesitating for many moments. Distracted by his newfound admiration for something that had stolen away everything he had. Its mission, he may never truly understand.
But joining it seemed so enticing.
“Machine… What are you asking of me?” He said softly, looking at its face. Expecting some signal of emotion, and seeing none.
It still did not speak, but offered its hand again with a small shake, a flex of its digits. It knew he would understand.
The angel paused, before reaching up and taking its hand, grasping it hard. He gasped, as in an instant the machine lifted him to his feet, keeping him close to its body. They stood, staring at each other for a long while. Gabriel wished he could know what it was thinking, pondering the warmth of its hand in his.
“You’re not done yet.” It finally spoke.
The words rushed through Gabriel’s head, imbuing him with what he didn’t know before— his purpose, now that he was done for. He didn’t need a purpose to proceed. He just needed the Will to continue through until the end.
He certainly had that.
“Damn you, Machine.” He sighed, laughing lightly. “I suppose you’re right. There is more to be done.”
It nodded, chirping happily at him. Shaking hands firmly with the robot, their grip never faltering for a second. He may have nothing, but he had the machine. He could count on its relentlessness, that he knew. Rain or shine.
When its hand finally slipped out of his, he felt heavy. Like losing something he never should have had. Perhaps it was the weight of sin truly resting upon his shoulders, burdened by the loss of— well. Everything . It fled from him without another word, despite his desperate reaching hand. It hit the ground with a thud, looking back up at him as he leaned from the precipice.
“When will I see you again, machine?” Gabriel called out to it, his voice still rough, though it carried the same air of righteousness.
It stared at him hollowly, gaze shifting away as it withdrew the pistol from its hip. And from somewhere within itself, it withdrew a coin. The gold shining brilliantly in the drab surrounding of ruins. It flicked the coin up to the angel, which he grasped tightly in his palm. Withdrawing his fingers to see it glow in the light coming from his wings.
“… I don’t understand.” Gabriel uttered, rolling the smooth piece of change between his fingers.
“You will know where to find me.” It spoke, echoing softly off the walls. As soon as it was finished, it began to flee, dashing through the air at the speed of light.
“Wait—! Machine! I—“ He stumbled over his words, struggling to move from his perch, lacking the energy to do so. All he could do was feebly reach out to it. “V1!”
It did not turn back. Soon, he was engulfed in unpleasant silence once more. He let himself fall slack, sighing deeply as he rested his bloody and battered body against the stone.
He looked at the shining coin clutched between his fingers. Humming to himself. Just a memory now; the numbing and yet gentle touch of the machine.
Bittersweet. He thought.
There is more to be done.