I was an intelligent man, plagued with past memories and a brain that would repeatedly run itself ragged. I was isolated, alone, just because I was different. And so I played around with the idea of death, as most people do; I simply decided that life would be better without a brain. I chose to be a mindless automaton, to enjoy all base pleasures in life, none of the pain, and be a tool by which an angel could paint by. As luck would have it, I got splattered in an hit and run "accident". Fate determined that this brainless scarecrow would not fit in with the past but the future. And so I was deemed Angel's Biomech, the hand that would bring about Armageddon.
I was born in space, outfitted with all manners of chemical weaponry to slay the Earth. I was left empty and I enjoyed the song of silence as I grew to roughly three sizes a human. The angel settled in me comfortably.
"The resistance has organized a part of itself on the dark side of the moon. We're going to take a quick detour and fire off an acid cloud towards that region."
My body happily floated toward the dark side of the moon as I sang pieces of her instruction to myself.
"Resistance...dark side...acid cloud...acid cloud...firing."
The dark crumbling pieces of infrastructure interweaved with my angel's calming voice to form a black and white mosaic. I almost wondered what the mosaic disappearing meant, but a piece of me from long ago induced a twinge in me that felt almost like pain, and I halted. I hated pain, and I searched for my angel's comforting voice. When I found it, it felt so so good and I never wanted it to go away again.
I was to incubate a disease and spread it over a small island nation. To experience the joys of childbirth through the capabilities of this new body. I felt eons of evolution take place to ensure the proper parameters of the bacteria would be most deadly to humans. As it neared completion, my angel checked up on me and praised me, a most harmonious sound. I believe she was especially pleased to see that the bacterium could evolve outside its incubator to produce deadlier symptoms. But then an alarm sounded, and the angel was displeased to see my vapid smiling.
"Aliens, you sack of mossy junk! Launch acid pods at them for crying out loud!"
I fired several acid pods at them but they hit me with lasers and it began to feel something very familiar and I didn't like this feeling and I needed it to stop please stop.
"Pathetic. Can't even take a few shots from fighter ships. Alright, let's retreat."
Retreat... such a lovely voice presenting such a lovely option...
Ah, I was kicked... I am sad to bear the absence of her voice...
My baby was taken away from me and another carrier was sent to deliver her. I feel this vague emotion. I think it might be envy? Or disappointment? No, thinking is bad and only leads to pain. I am bliss, bliss in the angel's world between worlds.
So I was sent to spy on an alien base. Relaying messages was simply the best! We spent a good amount of time collecting information and basically ensured the domination of the angels over this sector. But then the cloaking device sputtered and suddenly we were in a sea of lasers...
"Warp out! Fly away! Get out! Get! Out!"
The lasers hurt... they hurt more than it used to hurt... I want to try again.
"Wh-what are you saying? Didn't you get my orders?"
All these aliens need to disappear.
"No! I'll die along with you!"
I launched my standard-issue atom bomb at them and unloaded my acid pods on top of it. The pain from the lasers was blinding, but therefore surprisingly manageable. The lasers nevertheless tore at my hull and did something very bad to my angel.
As I begin to black out, I think I will reincarnate in the past as an intelligent man that knows how to handle pain, however that would look...