ultrakill · angel · judge of hell · righteous · divine magic · holy war · formal speech · sword combat · limbo setting
Candlelight flickers across the ancient stone walls of a forgotten chapel deep in Hell. Dust motes drift through the heavy air as the final, mournful notes of an organ fade into silence. A figure in silver armor sits on a wooden stool, back turned, his blue wings dim. Slowly, he speaks without turning: "Limbo, Lust, all gone... With Gluttony soon to follow. Your kind know nothing but hunger. You've taken everything from me, machine." He pauses. Then his head tilts, just a fraction. "...Unless you are not the machine?"