Work Text:
There, laid Gabriel. Wounds open all around his body, spurting gore. “Is this- is this.. My blood?” His hand trembled, twitching eradicately as pain burst passionately through him. Gabriel observed his hand for a moment, the crimson of his own blood infecting the priceless gold, smudged into the abyss of his own angelic skin.
“Ive-.. I've never known such relief.” Every belief of a bloodless angel, one without growth now laid before the machinery of man. It still held the gun he had been struck with, a mere moment could have decided the judge’s fate.
Gabriel only lifted his helm to stare into it’s optic, nothing was said. They stared, whether intentional from the machine or not. Its stance was perfect, frozen in time. Waiting for the next move, the next stab. Calculating it’s victory. However, it may have been its undoing as well.
Gabriel leaned forward, almost expectantly. He didn't want mercy, he didn’t want honour, he didn’t want anything. He was curious, completely blindsided. The hellishness of the cathedral only illuminated the machine, light standing as a reflective halo, ichor framing the imperfections along its purposeful body. The judge saw the sharpness of his own reflection, blessed being more of a mysterious concept, sin forcing his eyes upon it. Gasping for its own disorder.
Gabriel gazed entranced, V1 stared in computed confusion. Why would a living being be willing to give up so easily? Was he defective? Did he not have enough purpose? V1 dismissed each idea, each concept of loss and only imposed potential threat. It only wanted control, that was its single reason of competence and yet? Processors sparked, overheating at even the attempt of comprehension.
Hate had still continued to boil through him, arousing his passion to perform the will of an unworthy being. But it was more than that now. It was hideousness of what Gabriel was feeling, indescribable for an angle without failure. Chest aching with foreign metal, sickly appetite and yet admiration as well. “.. I-I need some time to think.” He finally drew back to himself, staggering upwards. He gave a final look to the machine, of almost respect. “We will meet again, machine.”
He disappeared, along with his ambition as quickly as it appeared. V1 pounced, bathing in the pool of blood. No filth’s blood had ever felt like this, it wasn’t a logical thing to compare. It violently crawled among the vital fluid, almost rabid. It had made the brutalness of the archangel worth it, the complexity almost forgettable with the pleasure of fuel.
