Actions

Work Header

Rating:
Archive Warning:
Category:
Fandom:
Relationship:
Characters:
Additional Tags:
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2026-02-16
Words:
1,162
Chapters:
1/1
Comments:
2
Kudos:
22
Bookmarks:
1
Hits:
157

When Hell Goes Quiet, when heaven sings no praise.

Summary:

It has gone far beyond a want for redemption. No longer does Gabriel care for Heaven, his honour, his reputation. His heart burns for something else. Something he would gladly spend the last hours of his life reaching for... even if it is all futile.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Gabriel had only been to the lowest layers once. Even the mere thought of return all those years ago coddled by the Council chilled him to the bone. Now he stood before the end with hands rested upon the pommel of his sword, Justice. It wasn’t long now, the smell of the machine’s insatiable lust for blood reaching him. When it was over, if he could even still walk, whether it be the fading light or metal hands that rid him of that ability, the sights through Treachery would be magnificent.

And then silence. Howling wind. Not a gunshot nor the screams of the damned. And Gabriel knew. Yes… he knew well.

“Machine.”

Servos spun as it stretched its fingers, staring him down with a light that cut through the blizzard.

“What will you do when all life in Hell is gone? Every layer torn asunder by your own hands? When no amount of blood can sustain you?”

The machine took a step forward. Gabriel saw the hint of reluctance.

“Ha… I suppose you are like me. In the end, no matter what we do, we’ll both befall the same fate.” Gabriel grabbed Justice, unsheathing Splendour from his hip. “You won't stop until everything is gone. So I ask only this of you, machine…”

It brought its own weapon out, the blue glow casting on the snow as a shot charged in the barrel.

“Let me feel the taste of defeat. One last time.”

Gabriel was first to lunge forward, slashing with both blades with intent to bisect. He heard the mechanical whirs as the machine jumped above, then wind howling as it dashed away and a charged shot just missed his side. Such a rush it was to fight the machine again, the way it dipped and dodged whilst firing weapon after weapon toward him.

A missile was swiftly deflected, the ensuing explosion kicking up snow that blinded him. Into his side came its grapple and soon a shotgun blast that took a chunk out of his hip, staining the pristine white snow crimson red. His leg connected with the side of the machine, toppling it far from him as he huffed. That excruciating pain…

“It’s exquisite! Finally, a real fight!” He yelled, clicking his two swords by their hilts and hurling them at the machine that had only just pulled itself from the ground, shot back by the force. Gabriel was quick to advance again, grabbing the machine by its thin robotic neck and pulling it from the ground.

“Do you feel it too?” He asked, “The rush of battle… of a challenge?!” Before slamming it into the ground. With a raised hand, Justice returned to it. He pointed it to the machine’s lens, brighter than before. “Don’t falter now, machine! Not until you’ve torn every limb from my body!”

The machine’s foot met his stomach, forcing him back. It was akin to the strength of an animal close to death, one last rush of energy to persevere. “Yes! That’s it!”

Gabriel’s attention was pulled by the sound of coins clicking, four flashes in the sky and the rumble of the railcannon carried by the machine. Even in battles past it seemed completely unavoidable. His heels dug into the snow and took the push against him as the ensuing beam of energy rippled against him, threatening to split a hole through his heart. The tingle of electricity reached to his fingertips. Or, Gabriel thought, it was the tingle of excitement.

From the right came the ring of a charged shot. It connected with his shoulder, forcing a dent into his armour and his shoulder guard to fly off. Then came a great pain that shredded through his right arm, and suddenly his left side felt heavier.

He swerved to the side of the machine and, glancing to the severed arm on the floor, let out a stark laugh. “I must be getting more rusty than I thought, machine!”

Yes. Rusty, not weak. Yet even Gabriel couldn’t deny the dying light holding him together had begun to come undone, fading in the deepest layers of Hell. Every limb felt sluggish, his mind less sharp, vision granted to him by the divine blurring over into strokes of white with flashes of blue accompanying robotic twangs.

It was clear keeping up with the movements of a machine designed to do just that, and very well no less, was a lost cause. His remaining hand clutched his sword, any bleeding from the right already stemmed as he waited. Saw blades that came his way, piercing shots or hails of bullets were brushed off. A state of perfect concentration.

When the machine passed once more—there! He swung his blade that connected with its lens. It splintered and cracked and brought the machine pause as the light from it dimmed down to nothing. Gabriel took the chance to dash forth with a thrust of his blade toward its chest.

Light shone bright from the lens that now stared him down.

Shit—!

With precise fire, a charged shot tore its way through his wrist and rend him now without a left hand. Even through this, he advanced. The machine pulled its left arm back and punched forward in a red blur with force that shattered Gabriel's armour, the following blast sending searing hot pain throughout his entire body.

Gabriel had seen the pearly gates of Heaven with his own eyes. He had walked through them to the grand halls, the cities made of fine glass and citizens dressed in silk garments. He stood before the Council in faded visions multiple times—to serve them was an honour. He had stood above the Council then, and now kneeled before the machine. He had seen it all then, and he had seen it all now.

He stared to the sky. Snow covered his face. “There’s… nothing left. Where will you go now?”

No answer. He knew the machine was incapable of speech. Perhaps it couldn't even understand him, only hearing the thirst for blood its circuits and servos pined for.

“Heaven is in disarray.” He collapsed, the stump his left hand once connected to holding him up. “By my hand no less. It's the vanishing of the Father all over again… Machine, finish this.”

The machine, weapon held firm in cold metal hand… fell to its knees.

“Ah. I see now. You and I… we’re both just…”

It held his face in its hands, the light dimming if only for his comfort. And in that moment, Gabriel realised it wasn’t reluctance in the machine’s… V1’s movements. Instead, it was a profound, ever-lasting, gnawing fear. He would never admit it before. Never in a million years would he admit that he was… and V1 too…

“Afraid.”

As sensation faded, the last of God’s light that kept his heart beating snuffed out, Gabriel found that in the arms of the machine he had come to admire…

It wasn’t cold anymore.

Notes:

Been playing a lot of Ultrakill lately so here. Take this writing practice disguised as fanfiction.