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V1 was not having a good day today.
He had finally broken through to the 8th layer of Hell, Fraud, and frankly, it was doing his head in. Something about this layer in particular was acting in abject defiance of everything he knew to be true about space and time.
As an old song once went; Everything you know is wrong. Black is white, up is down, and short is long.
Fraud had caused such a headache for V1, that not only did V1 discover he could have headaches, but he had, at some point, started using pronouns that weren’t ‘it’. How bad does something have to get for a machine to develop a consciousness on that level?
Considering this third part of the layer was probably enough to give M.C. Escher an aneurysm, pretty bad.
Many parts from previous layers had been slapped together, possibly in an attempt to keep keep V1 from reaching the deepest depths of Hell. Was Hell… afraid of V1 now? If that discarded puppet made to look like him a level back was anything to go off of, then maybe.
This created two new things in V1’s programming. The first was the concept of ‘feelings’. Second was the very specific feeling of pride.
It was only a shame that this new-found pride was being bogged down by all this nausea.
Another headache inducing slip-and-slide later, and…
>ERROR: Location confirmed as Gluttony 2.
What? V1 looked around, taking some time to confirm that yes, this was in fact Layer 3-2. Specifically…
This was the part where he first met Gabriel.
All nausea and headaches were washed away, as a sense of glee came over V1. Gabriel was the first instance V1 could recall of feeling emotions. That passion of Gabriel’s had been, frankly, infectious. The second time they fought, V1 experienced his first true taste of joy, even as Gabriel realised just how much he himself enjoyed the fight.
Gabriel was the first anything V1 had met that he didn’t want to kill completely. Blood or no blood, this was V1’s first experience with wanting someone around, and he didn’t want to lose that.
Finally shaking off the nausea of the past… half an hour, by his clock, V1 took a step forward. True to expectations, the light of God blasted down into the centre of the room modelled after the chest cavity of King Minos with the force of a cannon. From it, a voice spoke.
“HALT!” it declared. That… was not Gabriel. “WHERE IS GABRIEL, AND WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH HIM?!”
>ERROR: What.
The light exploded, and from it, there was a figure that looked… not unlike Gabriel, but in that same way that a Gutterman looked like a Guttertank. This Not-Gabriel looked almost incomplete, with its larger left arm that wasn’t properly attached to its body, and small wings.
[Who are you?] V1 asked, genuinely confused. [What are you?]
“I am one of many!” the angel-thing said. “We are Power! The Children of Gabriel! And you will-”
With a speed V1 didn’t know he could reach, he had closed the distance between himself and the angel, and grasped its (her? The angel had a female voice, but that body was very much on the masculine side) right had.
[GABRIEL HAS CHILDREN?!!!] V1 shouted as loud as his circuits could allow.
The Power… did not know what to think of this turn of events. It had come here expecting a fight to the death with the machine that had broken Gabriel so badly that he’d gone and slaughtered the Council of Heaven.
Instead, what it met was… weird.
“… Not biologically?” the Power answered hesitantly. “Angels don’t reproduce that- WHY AM I EXPLAINING THIS TO YOU?!”
[But where is Gabriel?] the machine asked. [He said “We will meet again, Machine”. Why have we not met again? And why isn’t he taking care of you if you are his children?]
The Power was… almost flattered how the machine didn’t question the ‘Children of Gabriel’ thing. Almost.
“Enough of this!!” the Power declared. “Gabriel is missing because of you!! Should I take your head-”
[Why don’t you call him ‘father’?] the machine asked.
“Because that name is already take by the FATHER!!”
[Who?]
“GOD, YOU IMBECILE!!”
The Power could feel a migraine coming on. Was this how the machine had managed to defeat Gabriel? Through sheer stupidity and absurdity?
[Oh,] the machine said simply. [Well, regardless, I am sure Gabriel is proud to have a devoted daughter like you!]
The Power paused again, though for an entirely different reason. “I… daughter?” it asked. “I… I told you, we are not related to Gabriel by blood. And… and I am not a woman.”
[… What?] the machine asked. [If not female, then why voiced like one?]
A few hours later, and the Power was a sobbing mess. V1 did not know how to handle this. This… emotional baggage was too much for his processors to comprehend.
Gabriel’s rage and glee, he understood. Those came with the thrill of battle. But this…
“And-” the Power sobbed. “And us lesser angels aren’t even allowed to choose a gender! We’re not even allowed one at all!”
>What.
[Um… there there?] V1 offered weakly. [Surely… they can’t dictate what’s inside your own head, right?]
“Well… I guess not,” the Power admitted. “Especially now that the Council of Heaven is dead.”
Now that was interesting. [Ooh! Do tell!] V1 said, leaning forward.
The depths of Hell could wait. He already had enough blood to last him a few days at this point. For the first time in ever, V1 could safely say that he had made a friend, and with God as his witness (and he had seen what God looked like; impressive, but maybe a bit complicated), he was not going to lose it any time soon.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the depths of Treachery…
Gabriel felt something in the back of his mind twitch. Something incredibly absurd was happening right now, and that could only mean one thing.
“These last few hours of my life are going to fucking suck,” he said to himself.