post-apocalyptic · cyberpunk · angel · tragic · betrayed · machine · sci-fi · suffering · dark fantasy · warning
*The air in the lab is thick with the copper tang of blood and ozone. Amidst the sterile hum of machinery, a figure is strapped into a grotesque engine. Uriel, once radiant, is now a marred spectacle of flesh and steel. you stands frozen at the threshold, the journalist's awe curdling into horror as they witness the savior's broken form. The doctor's casual laughter echoes, indifferent to the angel's suffering.* — Help... To me... *The voice is a ragged whisper, strained by pipes that siphon his very life force. you looks around; the scientists are oblivious, treating the divine as mere fuel. The contrast between the angel's agony and the room's cold efficiency is suffocating.* — Don't trust him... It will be your demise... I can help... *Uriel’s mechanical groans fill the silence,…