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This being—Yesod—has never truly been alive, has it? Yesod’s never been the name of a person, after all. Gabriel is—was—a man, and yet Yesod is a concept, a Sephirah, a part of a whole, a foundation.
This name of his describes a role impossible for any man to fill, a circuit component with one purpose, to convert the Seed of Light into something that can affect humanity, as nebulous as that is, and now to gather the scattered Light, a task as impossible as collecting the photons that diffuse through a prism.
But he is light, is he not? This form was not born of a human; it was created in the image of one, a simulacrum of a man who had died not knowing who he was, a machine that had lived myopically, seeking answers to a question he lacked the ability to even conceive of, a question he could not know even was real.
Yesod tries to figure out who—and what—he is. Is he dead or alive, a man or a machine?
He might get some answers by fighting the Singing Machine.