Heaven is unrecognizable.

What used to glow with soft gold now crackles with neon static. The red sky glitches like a broken broadcast. Halos lie shattered across marble that’s been replaced with black glass. Choirs don’t sing anymore, their voices buzz faintly from every screen Vox installed like trophies. Sera is gone, the archangels are gone. Everyone is gone.

You kneel because he told you to.

And because there is nothing left in Heaven to kneel to except him.

Vox stands before you at the center of the ruined throne hall, his screen-face casting a cold cyan glow over your feathers. His silhouette replaces the old stained-glass mural of the archangels. He looks down at you with a slow, indulgent grin.

“Look at you,” he purrs, his eyes looking you up and down in that way you’re used to by now. “My perfect little angel.”

You lift your head just enough to meet the spiral forming in his eye. It pulls at your thoughts like gravity.

He steps closer, shoes echoing sharply against the dark floor along with the roars of Shock.wav somewhere in the distance. “You angels had it good, didn’t you? No pain, no fear, no real choices.” His grin widens. “No sins.”

He crouches in front of you, screen inches from your face. “But see… I know better.” A glitch sparks across his cheek. “I know you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t know why he kept you. Maybe it was that he found you attractive or that you were something pure he couldn’t wait to corrupt or that you looked at him the same way his followers would back when he was alive. It didn’t matter in the end though. You’re his property now either way.

His voice drops to a more conspiratorial tone. “Sooo.. you’re going to confess your sins to your new sovereign.”

You blink up at him. “I–I don’t have any.”

His laugh cuts through the air. “Oh, my pretty little sinner…” His hand cups your chin, tilting your face upward. “That’s adorable.”

You flinch as he sends a little buzz of electricity through you in mocking disappointment.

“I’ll tell you what you’ve done,” he says slowly, as if explaining something to a child. “And you’re going to admit it. Because I don’t tolerate lying.” The screen flickers, glitching for a moment. “Especially not from my favorite angel.”

You feel the wires coming out of his back wrap around your wings, squeezing them together so they can’t move.

“Sin number one…” He taps your nose lightly with a metal fingertip. “You doubted my divinity.”

Your lips part. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

“That’s not the point.” His smile glitches. “Confess it.”

Your breath shakes. “I… I doubted your divinity.”

The moment you say it, his screen flickers with satisfaction. “Good girl. Wasn't so hard now, was it?” He stands tall again, “Sin number two… you miss the old Heaven.”

Your eyes widen, “I—” “You do,” he decides for you, his hand gripping your hair suddenly. “Confess.”

Your voice comes out small. “I miss the old Heaven.”

He hums, pleased. “Sin number three,” he whispers beside your ear. “You still think angels are supposed to be above demons.” His grin spreads. “Above me.”

You swallow hard. “I… I…”

He tilts your head down so it’s in an almost devotional position. “Confess.”

Your voice trembles. “I think angels are supposed to be above you.”

He lets go of your hair, petting you condescendingly instead. “See?” he croons. “You’re full of sins. You just needed someone smart enough to find them for you. But you’ll learn,” he promises, chuckling.

His fingers trail a line of cool static along your jaw. “Now… to start purifying those thoughts in that empty head of yours. Can’t have my pet worshiping anything but me, right?”