Messiah 2.0I sing the Our Father again and again as I hack the undead to ribbons with my atomic scythe. Praying with all of my might for every lost soul I send spinning out of this misbegotten world.
"Our father, who art in Houston, hallowed be thy flame..."
More zombies push in to replace them, clambering over the shredded corpses of the previous wave. Their bony hands clutch and claw at me and my faithful assistant, not that they can do much harm to a robot like Imago. A giant among them swings a crowbar dead-on at him, and it bounces off his unbreakable stained-glass skin without making the slightest crack.
I smile and keep slicing away at the horde. The stench of the creatures surrounds me. My hands on the grip of the glowing scythe are wet with blood. I feel the weight of my
