The Fire is Gone

Blood

Hell is empty.

It seems almost impossible that all life in the layers is completely gone, so the final machine goes looking.

Blood is merely an objective at this point as there is nothing to reduce the machine's health, but it's in its programming to search for more, and with its being such an unstoppable force of nature, a cataclysm that sweeps across Hell to do what it was meant to do as a perfect war machine.

Maybe...

It is just possible since there wasn't any being or machine that can learn such combat ability.

At least...not anymore.

The machine is mute but it can hear, from the groan of husks to the cry of an angel and prime souls, it even fights those beings and always comes out victorious.

When it reaches the sixth layer of hell, heresy. it felt...it shouldn't be there and a myriad of thoughts was running through its being.

What am I doing?

What's my purpose?

What is the meaning of all this?

but its objective of looking for more blood had made it forces its way deeper into the layer, dismissing all of its relents of question to the point it finally found some sort of enjoyment and enthusiasm within the carnage it was doing. 

Because the fireworks and spurt of blood that splashed into its metallic body made the machine feels full and the desire for blood to refuel its  being had becomes its motivation.

The work of it being done also brought feelings of satisfaction.

But now... it's all gone. Just like the angel had said.

wandering seamlessly, the machine finally works its way back up to the wrath layer and finds a grey elevator.

It's much less inviting to the machine but it at least has to try, right?

Reaching the bottom, the robot is on an island and inexplicably has no weapons to equip.

There is a fishing rod in a barrel nearby, and not having many options the machine grabs it.

It thinks for a while, and it eventually decides to cast the rod into the water.

A few minutes pass and something grabs the line, and the machine pulls a fish from the depths. At first, the robot hesitates. It's just a fish, it thinks.

What use could it be to a machine that can't eat? But after tossing the fish, it looks back and sees something... Something it hadn't seen for a long time.

The fish had begun to bleed from a small incision caused by the machine's unkempt edges. It was bleeding.

The pond has a living... bleeding fish.

So of course, the machine re-equipped the rod and cast it again.

V1 was no longer searching for blood.

It had found a renewable source of blood that was hidden from its optical sensor for all of this time. If it had a voice, it would have laughed.

The destruction of the rest of its sentient life is ultimately meaningless. mindless destruction.

Despite not caring for this before, it now had the rest of eternity to reflect its metal being in the clear blue water.

And on what it had done. But it did not matter.

The wind blows, causing some trees behind it to shake and leaves to fall off of it, flying past the war machine some even hitting its metal followed by the sound of water sloshing to the shore.

It cast its rod. The machine began to feel lonely. It hooked a fish...different kind this time.

The machine began to feel something it hadn't before. It doesn't have any program to feel some sort of emotion, but when it placed that blue skull on a headless skeleton, nothing happened.

But it had named it Hank. it had done it with the other skeletons the machine found when it was still in its onslaught looking for more blood.

And again...there's nothing happened...but there was this...strange satisfaction unlike any other.

Such as the moment it hooked this fish, the fish wiggled in its cold-steel hand as it look closely....before it leap off its grip hitting its yellow visor with a splat and diving back into the lake.

Again, the fish leaves a small trail of blood behind.

But it still living and doesn't feel as cruel as it blasting some bullets into a husk, the machine thought, staring at the lake as the sun...or at least what it looked like, began to drown into the horizon, the yellow light of its visor still bright as it gazes at the sun.

The machine didn't care, however.

It cast its rod. The machine... began to feel remorse as it wait.

It caught another fish.

---

My first try at doing this kind of story of the best FPS game I have ever played.

This however was inspired by a comment on youtube on this OST of Ultrakill and of course the ost itself.

The name was @nitropixelz. You guys can look for the original poetry made by the guy in the comment section of this video.

as for the things, in the beginning, were inspired by the game OST as well, altars of apostasy.

I don't know how to convert music into a feeling and put it into this piece of writing but I'm bored so I did it anyway.

you can leave some comments on how this feels and feedback to uhh...improve my writing. well...if you want to anyway.

HelmOtaku's out!