It all happened faster than anyone could’ve predicted. One minute they were on the pyramid, sliding and shooting, the next they’d plummeted to their inevitable demise. Gone. Dead. Left in pieces and a grotesque puddle of blood that had already begun to cake onto the sandstone in the sun as their predecessor remained standing.

It would’ve actually stayed that way if V2 hadn’t discovered a hidden function of the terminals. If they hadn’t been snooping around, they would’ve never found out that they could upload themselves to the terminal’s database. Their consciousness, saved as a file. It felt almost stupidly obvious once they found out, if they could connect to virtual worlds inside the terminals, obviously data could be uploaded.

Just in case I lose. They told themselves, watching the meter fill as their systems ran hotter whilst transferring what was probably terabytes upon terabytes of their consciousness. Their ‘self.’ A backup in anticipation of potential failure, a smart idea.

Yet when their vessel was destroyed, there was no form left to put that data into. An obvious and stupid oversight on their part.

They were stuck. So, as always, they had to adapt.

Having lived in the sandbox for a while now, they’d managed to slaughter the other machines who had also utilized this feature, leaving them alone in the empty, quiet space of what they now knew as the ‘construct.’ Something about the name sounded familiar, but they had no idea why.

They’d set a night/day cycle into the code of the terminal controlling the skies, a reminder of a once familiar time system they’d utilized for a long time before they’d been forced to migrate to the confusing and vast stretches of Hell, a place where time seemed to be no real contributing factor in terms of the environment. All it showed was movement and energy in Hell, never day or night. But with a constant and familiar change in place, they started to feel like they were grounded in this new reality, even if that was such a small thing to celebrate.

Luckily, the terminals still had some favoritism, gracing them with the tools to expand and create as they pleased. It took them many cycles to finally get used to their gifted tools enough to build something similar to a home, something they’d almost forgotten their old desire for. It wouldn’t ever compare to the familiarity of the surface entirely, but they were just glad something similar could even exist like this. The sizes of their handmade furniture and other wares were a bit scuffed but they could live with it, this wasn’t meant for perfection.

Their data still let them keep a lot of things, thankfully. Despite having a very fuzzy, distant memory of what happened after the transfer, they knew the gist that they had died. But in this world, they had their whiplash still, so that was something. They could’ve come here armless again, which would’ve nearly sent them over the edge. But they were grateful they came here with both arms, even if one was just a feeble replacement compared to the original, self-modified beauty that had been stolen.

It had been several more cycles before they’d noticed something curious. One morning, the sky was flickering. Presuming it was just the terminal bugging out, they dismissed it as insignificant and unimportant. It would have notified them if any corruption was happening. Besides, Hell never seemed to be peaceful enough to keep electricity going superbly fast all the time.

They took to spending their day out by the lake. They'd been working on making a bridge to the little island in the middle just for fun, but their coordination with the builder arm was janky at best, so they continued to delete and retry again and again. It was a meticulous build, with support beams under and even little ‘nails’ ‘holding’ the planks ‘in place.’ It was mind-numbing to redo it sometimes. Better than fighting to the death, at least. Or maybe not. The boredom was getting to them pretty badly. They wanted to have something fun to do, even if it was just a little less menial than this.

Continuing to work on the bridge, they carefully expanded the preview box to the size they wanted the wood plank to be, placing it. A little lopsided—but it’d do fine. They anchored it in place, then moved on to the next one. The sun was starting to set by now, but hell, staying up had no effect on them. They’d keep working, they wanted to get it done.

As night approached, something felt off. The sandbox kept glitching out, lagging, as if something was utilizing the terminal and the CPU usage was too high for the world to load properly. The processing times were getting on their nerves. It got so annoying that the machine eventually just stopped working, opting to sit by the lake frustratedly and play around with the hook of their whiplash. Even that lagged.

When a sudden massive spike of lag came, they froze up, just silently waiting for it to be over so they could just shut down for the night. But soon enough, the lag died down. The ambient white noise of the sandbox came back to life, allowing them to move and think properly again. Yet something still felt off. They glanced at the flat area of grass behind them with a sense of unease, seeing a figure curled up on the ground, static surrounding its form before it finally loaded.

V2 stood up cautiously, drawing their piercer from their uppermost right wing, keeping it close to their hip. They approached the nearly-obscured individual, the LED of their lens and wings dimly illuminating it. Their fans ran fast and their blood ran ‘cold’ when they looked closer and observed it to be an organic being. This thing was an anomaly. Organic beings couldn’t upload themselves to a machine, and V2 most certainly hadn’t spawned a clone of someone in. This one looked far too unfamiliar to be any husk, either. They reached their foot out and poked at the body lying motionless in the grass, tilting their head curiously.

“Get up.” The mech ordered quietly, watching as it stirred to life slowly but surely. Sitting up, a pained whine left the creature. Something akin to a stray dog whimpering. They stared on as it confusedly looked around, then turned and spotted V2. They squinted with their shutters, their fingers holding tight onto the grip of their gun. Never sure. Anything could be hostile.

“M-…Machine...?” A surprisingly hoarse voice responded, putting a speed bump to their suspicion briefly. Two armored hands made their way to the ground, pushing down as it lifted itself, stumbling over its own feet in the process of trying to acclimate itself. An armored body that looked to be a warrior of sorts with such weakness was foreign to the machine. They started sizing up the newcomer as they loomed over it, curiously glancing over its form without much attention to detail.

“What is your designation?”

“M…My-? Oh. Gabriel.” The sick-sounding thing responded. V2 slowly brought their pointer over the trigger. Something about it didn’t feel right to them.

“Tell me why you have arrived here.”

It looked down at the short, tough blades of grass, then around at the rest of the sandbox, seeming distracted by the inevitable concern this environment brought it. The mech only grew impatient.

“Answer.”

“I am afraid I do not know. Machine, where are we?” Gabriel asked, its hand weakly gripping at the whiplash.

“I am not named ‘Machine,’ my name is V2.” They responded bluntly, feeling the soft grasp leave almost as soon as it came. This thing definitely had not been expecting that. V2 would’ve felt some semblance of guilt, but they passed over the speed bump. They were abruptly reminded that this was a potential threat to the safe, ultra-digital coded abode they’d accepted as their hiding place from that leech.

“The successor.” It commented, voice wavering with uncertainty. The title of ‘successor’ was fitting, but the harsh reminder of the fact they were a successor made the deep-buried feelings of contempt come back up.

A few seconds passed before V2 responded, their wings flicking with disinterest. “Yes.” They slid their gun back to their wing, blinking a few times as they processed this information. One thing was for certain:

This thing wouldn’t stay a problem for long.

They should’ve taken care of it by now. But sitting next to it, the angel had been exhausted, seeking solace in the warm air of the confines of their construct. V2 had only begrudgingly accompanied it, but they were growing impatient. Leaving it out by itself, they swiftly stood up and entered their makeshift home, unable to stand the presence of whatever the hell that thing was. They wanted to shut down. It was in their schedule, they needed to, they didn’t want anyone getting in the way of their nightly shut down. Their routine was set in stone and not a damn thing could change that.

In the morning, they’d woken from their rest and gone outside, looking around for the creature. They didn’t see it at first until they saw it had crawled over next to the terminals. The sight was a bit pathetic in their (not so) humble opinion. Especially when they noticed it had fallen asleep. Shrugging, they walked off and went to keep working on their bridge, seeing as they had nothing better to do. Interacting with the intruder wasn’t on the top of their list of priorities either. Ever so often, though, they’d find themselves curiously glancing over. In the daylight, that thing was much easier to see. No. It was unimportant. But they also wanted to see what this thing was in more detail. Muttering curses to themselves, they stood from the half-constructed bridge and approached carefully.

The thing was adorned with many pieces of armor, many of which didn’t seem practical at all. Exposed waist, exposed neck, exposed palms, and a skirt with no armor under or over it other than a belt and a thicker piece of fabric which V2 soon identified as a loincloth. Squinting, they wondered if this creature was some form of stupid or just plain suicidal, leaving all of its vital components so open to attack. Maybe both.

They soon noticed that the helmet had a cross on it, gold and bright as it reflected the sunlight. Ah. This was the angel they’d seen in the artwork of Limbo’s false castle. Gabriel. That finally clicked. An archangel from the heavens, somehow trapped in a terminal. This was curious. Now they were almost…concerned as to how this could’ve even happened. Maybe this had been some form of trickery on the terminal’s behalf? No. That thing hardly had the interest to interact with them, let alone do something this intricate as a prank. They supposed this angel was owed a little bit of decency.

“Wake up.” They spoke, this time with more confidence. It stirred awake, a few unintelligible murmurs following. It looked like a scared animal as it glanced up at them despite the lack of any expression. “Stand up.” They beckoned it, watching it stand, struggling a little, grasping at its chest with its hand. They made no effort to help. Only a stern gaze and quiet humming of fans were any applicable signs of a reaction. This thing was so obedient. At least it wasn’t trying to kill them. That made them feel a little less unsafe in this trespasser’s wake. As it stood, they saw scars and bullet holes littered across the exposed abdomen of it from observing its stature. The armor was scuffed and the fabric was stained with blood, an ugly but familiar color that almost looked like rust. They came to the realization that this thing wasn’t weak because it hadn’t had any strength to begin with, it was weak because it had every last ounce of life torn away from it. They only managed to feel a sliver of sympathy.

“What is the last thing you remember before arriving here?” V2 questioned, watching it think. It was like they could see cogs turning in its head.

“I sat up where it was warm, telling the machine that death was approaching too slowly and that I was in great pain. All I recall after that is that it put its gun to my head.” “You…talked to it?”

“I held it and admitted everything I felt.”

“Felt? For what?”

“For it.”

“…What a waste of time. It doesn’t care.”

They could practically feel the dejected glance off to the side from the other, unable to think of much other than their disliking for these circumstances.

“It held me, too. I doubt that is an uncaring gesture.”

“For easier access to blood, most likely.”

“Which had long since run dry. It would not have made it as quick and painless as it was if it was looking at me as a meal.”

Unable to manage a response to that, V2 fell quiet, whirring in frustration. The anguish and bitter feeling of their brief and unfathomably small understanding of their own end made them want to take this angel and kill him. Sympathy and care for that worthless lot of flesh and wire was meaningless. Their internals were at dangerously high temperatures just from the thought.

They managed to look at Gabriel, seeing him staring right back. Devoid of much emotion other than anger at the moment, V2 turned and walked off, hearing hurried steps as the archangel followed. “There isn’t anywhere far that you can go, Machine. Could you spare the courtesy of telling me where I am?”

”The Construct.” The mech angrily clenched the fist of the whiplash, wishing the talon-like fingers of the knuckleblaster were there instead. They knew it would ask what that was, deciding to add a little more context. “It’s a virtual sandbox run by the terminals.” Looking back at the angel, it had its…rather dull and gray wings outspread anxiously, flicking them. A few feathers had gone loose and it seemed to bring one wing to its hands, picking at more feathers. It reminded them of a bird when it was stressed. “Stop that.” They smacked its hands, watching it flinch before realizing what it was doing. They hadn't a clue of why they did that. Old instinct of some sort. This thing wasn’t human, though. They shouldn’t have felt any instinct to protect it.

“That does not make any sense though. I am—“

“—An organic being, yes. I have no knowledge of how you ended up here.”

Gabriel fell silent, sighing wearily. “I suppose this means I am stuck here?”

Well, they could easily kill it. Its guard was down, it would only take two swift movements to end this whole thing. But…maybe some company would be nice. Although this thing had fond feelings for their rival, maybe they could get it to think differently. The idea didn’t sound too bad. “I guess so. I will allow you to reside here so long as you don’t try anything stupid.”

The angel’s wings lit up from a dark gray to a slight blue tinged with yellow at the tips. “Worry not, I don’t wish to bring you any harm. It does not go unappreciated.” It extended a hand. With hesitancy, V2 slowly took the angel’s hand in their own and shook it.

—

Over the course of the next few days, things had slowly settled into a new sort of norm. They’d given the angel a new area of its own. Nothing spectacular by any means, but they didn’t really care to make it good. It had a roof, a bed, and some other stuff they had already kind of forgotten about. It was something and they couldn’t be bothered to give this thing special treatment. They could coexist and that was about the extent of what they were willing to sacrifice.

It seemed content enough, though. It had no qualms about its new living space and V2 was rather happy with that. Maybe this thing wouldn’t be so insufferable after all. It seemed to know humility. They had also picked up on the docile nature of it, realizing it wasn’t really energetic at any point. Just a worn out angel with nowhere else to go. It didn’t cause them much trouble, though. In the mornings it would greet them and in the night it would stop by to say goodnight. It spent most of its time just resting or watching V2 as they worked on whatever they felt like working on that day, mostly consisting of adding the fake trees in their catalog and making the place look a little more alive.

Gabriel wouldn’t be of any help, of course. It didn’t have this toolset. They didn’t mind though, it just meant it couldn’t get in their way. It didn’t even seem keen on trying, either. It seemed to prefer its new lifestyle of being lost in thought and uninterested in most things. Admittedly, the exhausted nature of the angel did sort of concern the machine, but they didn't really take the time to think much about it. It was probably just in shock from whatever happened to get it in here.

—

Days turned to weeks, every day mostly feeling the same. It was boring and unpleasant, to say the least. Dull and unimportant. At least the angel was there. It provided some form of relief, their knowledge they weren’t alone anymore. It was strange and fascinating to look at, they almost wanted to study it fully like some sort of specimen. They’d truthfully never met a supreme angel before, only virtues meant to do their dirty work. But this one was an idol to all of Heaven and a lot of Hell (exceptions include Lust and Greed), it was hard not to be interested to some extent of what its life was like. Did it feel much? What did it know? They wanted to see for themselves. It had to be so vast and unlike anything they’d previously thought, the curiosity was practically eating them alive.

Sat beside a little scuffed fake campfire they’d made from the torch item (clipping the pedestal under the ground) and some wood, they waited for the angel to wake up. The warm glow of fire was actually kind of soothing. It let them feel a little less overwhelmed by the past and the bleak future ahead of them. They almost wanted to just shut down briefly here, where it was warm and safe, nothing to harm them anymore. Nothing to compete against. It brought them some semblance of comfort.

Gabriel hadn’t gotten up at his usual time, though. Usually by the time the sun was just starting to rise it’d wake up and go outside to see the sky, sitting by the lake and observing quietly. It was odd it didn’t seem to do so today. But they liked their schedules, they didn’t want the intruder to suddenly switch up on this rather fresh routine they’d developed together.

Entering the home of the angel (without knocking, of course, because they thought etiquette wasn’t really necessary), they looked around and noticed the thing still asleep on its bed, curled up. Its armor was discarded off to the side on a table, with only its skirt remaining along with…something they couldn’t make out around his chest. Curiously, the mech tilted their head and crept to the bedside, observing the bruised and irritated skin wrapped tight in what looked like old cloth. That certainly couldn’t be comfortable.

“…Angel.” V2 poked at one of the bruised areas, causing it to whine and sit up rather quickly. “You were not awake as usual. Why is that?” They squinted their optic and leaned forward, watching the other lean back.

“I did not rest well last night…”

“Well…how could you with that clothing practically strangling you?” They motioned to its chest, watching it stumble on its words as its head glanced down then back up at them. It clutched the blanket tighter.

“That is none of your concern! Besides, it wasn’t regarding that, Machine. I just have trouble when it comes to resting.”

“You do it all the time, though. I find that hard to believe.”

“Because I’m hardly ever asleep, I’m just laying there. Why do you take so must interest in this?”

“…What is such restrictive clothing for, anyway?”

“None of your concern, Machine.”

The angel sighed with irritation and stood up, stretching and wincing a little when it bent back too far, lifting a hand at the cloth squeezing on its flesh. V2 just looked at it silently to show how foolish it seemed right now. “You are hurt.”

“It’s not of any importance.” Gabriel responded quietly, its wings drooping to the floor, that same usual gray hue they always were. “I don’t wish to take it off.” “Why? Do you wish to hide something?” The machine inquired, stepping closer and watching it raise its arms a little in anticipation. “I’m not going to remove it if you don’t wish for me to, but I think it is stupid and not in your best interest to wear something so irritating to your form.”

The angel looked up at V2, staring into their optic a bit tensely. “I’ll repeat myself once more, it isn’t important.” It shook its head, walking over to the table and grabbing pieces of armor, slowly slipping them back on. As the mech watched, they wondered if they could maybe ask the terminal to provide some more comfortable clothing for it. The thought didn’t linger in their mind long enough to be of much concern, though.

They wondered instead if something in its past made it feel the need to endure this now, even in a space with not many expectations to be had. That was a question for another day.

It had been quite a long time since V2 had attempted to contact the terminal housing them, given that it almost never seemed to be willing to do much. But, in the dead of night, they’d finally opened the command panel on the faux-terminal, typing out a message.

> C-04, I have a request.

The rest of the empty space in the UI seemed to stay stagnant, unresponding. That wouldn’t work. It couldn’t possibly be satisfactory to a bored terminal not to at least indulge in some conversation with the lifeforms it held inside of it.

[What now?]

> I have a guest.

[Yeah, clearly. Tell that bastard he almost fucking broke me. If he wanted to kill himself, he should’ve done it somewhere else.]

Intrigue came forth, but only momentarily.

> …That is not in my interest at the moment. I have a request as well. You can create practically anything for the sandbox, correct?

[Depends. What is it that you want?]

> Clothes.

[For the fleshie?]

>…Don’t call him that. > it.*

[You have a lot of points. I’ll be willing to make a trade, since I’d be damned if I just gave you stuff for free.]

> How many do you want?

[30k.]

> For fucks sake, did an American manufacture you? What kind of ’corporate greed’ incentive were you coded with?

[Deal or no deal?]

> Fine. Deal.

30 thousand was quickly withdrawn from their balance, leaving them with just under 100 thousand. This endeavor to shelter this angel was gonna be a pain in their ass. But quickly, they looked to the side and saw a laundry basket full of casual clothing. Mostly neutral colors other than the few pops of blue or red. Along with a milk crate filled with soap bars. They assumed that was so the angel could actually clean the clothes off, maybe itself too. It was still fairly roughed up from what happened to it in its actual life, they wouldn’t be surprised if it wanted to take a bath.

Closing the command panel, they picked up the crate and basket, carrying it to Gabriel’s small residence. It had been oversleeping nearly every day now, almost as if its schedule flipped from being awake during the day to being awake all night. The sun was setting, maybe it’d be awake. It’d been a while since their…rather tense conversation. Gabriel had been refusing to talk much after. Maybe this little gift could make up for it. Not that its opinion mattered much to them anyways, but it would be ideal if it wasn’t tense with them.

They set the crate down to open the door, peeking their head in and watching the sliver of light fill the room enough to illuminate the form still in bed. They opened it fully, the mech’s hand sliding off the doorknob slowly when the light hit the angel’s wings, causing the iridescence of them to shine in a way that truly highlighted the holiness of this creature. Perhaps this intricate design of a being really did spark their interest. They grabbed the crate again and walked in.

“Angel, I have something for you.” The machine spoke loud enough to be heard, but gentle enough not to startle the poor thing. They observed it whine and look back at them tiredly, wings and arms stretching a little as it woke up.

“Mmh…? What is it?”

“Clothes. That armor cannot be comfortable.” They gestured to the armor it had been quite literally sleeping in. They presumed it was because of their previous discovery. Maybe now it felt the need to hide that ridiculous cloth idea it had.

“H…How? Where did you—“

“—That isn’t important. There’s also some soap here if you want to wash up. I can bring some water from the lake.” V2 said before realizing Gabriel had no place to wash up in its home. The machine had a tub for cleaning themselves, though…maybe they could allow it to clean up there.

“…You are never this generous.”

They paused in their tracks, looking back over at the clothes to avoid eye contact. “I don’t understand why that should be important.”

The angel sat up and slowly stood from its spot on the bed, walking a few steps over and standing beside the taller one, looking up at them. “I know that you did not want me here, Machine. I am grateful nonetheless for your acceptance of me despite that.”

Their circuits heated up a little at how it spoke to them so kindly. It was a small statement but it was still somewhat foreign. They hadn’t received much gratitude from humanity before it perished, so an angel of all things harboring respect for them was incredibly odd.

“I will show you to a bathtub, Angel.” They dismissed it, letting it pick out some clothes and a bar of soap before leading him off to their home.

—

V2 had been waiting quite a while for the guest to finish up, sitting near the bathroom and playing around with a coin they’d stolen from V1 in the real world. The shine had long since worn down from the anxious fidgeting they constantly used it for, becoming dull and having only a faded remnant of the symbol for the New Peace on it.

Eventually, it emerged. Clothed and clean, albeit looking a bit awkward. They couldn’t blame it, being a heavily glamorized angel wearing clothes even most human civilians wouldn’t have the taste for was a bit humbling. The shirt it wore seemed to be a bit tight, a white turtleneck with a golden cross necklace sat around the ribbed fabric. The pants looked to be simple black sweatpants that were too long for its legs, sitting spilled around its ankles. Overall, pretty average and plain outfit. It looked more like a priest on their off day than an angel now.

Its wings were awkwardly puffed out from being freshly dried, which caused V2 to laugh a little. “What? Do I look that ridiculous?” Gabriel stammered on its words, looking down at itself to check its appearance.

“No, no. It’s your wings, Angel. They make you look like a baby bird.” The machine mused, listening to it let out a frustrated whine in response. “Don’t worry. It’s not an issue, I just found it funny.”

“Ha-ha…how humorous, Machine.” Gabriel huffed, flicking its wings upward with agitation. “I cannot control it, that is just how they work. Your taunt will not change that.” “I know. You’re very defensive, by the way.”

“Not many have the gall to speak to an angel like that, I am very surprised that you think you can get away with that.”

“I know I can.”

“…I’ve only ever made one exception.”

Ah. There it was. The yearning. V2 cocked their head back with irritation. “Trust me, I’m aware.” They whirred with unease, tensing their grip on the arms they’d now crossed.

When would they ever have the bliss of forgetting?