"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God."
-Romans 3:23
White blank slates form the walls of a closed-off room.
Dark crosses splay across the floors and walls with short whistles of air that cling to the ears.
Within the purity of these walls lay a small mess of metal and wires, Rubber and steel.
Its body is cuboid, painted with black.
Taking a couple of seconds the mess wakes.
The cube soon wakes up from its slumber.
One mission held dear to its programming.
"Send the final words of man to the one upstairs."
It does not know of itself, its name, or its origins.
All it knows is its mission.
It takes a couple of seconds to properly reactivate.
The small crackle of a battery being activated echoes throughout the room.
Soon the tiny machine begins to move across the room.
It searches for an exit, but none appears.
It takes a few more minutes to search through its protocols.
Anything that may help, perhaps a little line of code from its creators?
Nothing, nothing was left for it.
Upon the realization of its helpless endeavor, it slows to a halt.
Its once energetic movement is now a soft whimper from its brakes.
Minutes, Hours, and Days pass.
Maybe the words of man shall never be passed on.
The amount of time that passes is unknown to the machine.
Wallowing in its sorrows of defeat the robot waits for anything to happen.
Crackling, thundering, and shaking all felt within the room after what seemed like months.
A crack forms in the wall in front of the machine.
Triangular in shape and small in size.
Small it may be, but it's still the best method of escape.
Finally, maybe its mission will be completed.
Soft gears move, rubber hitting sleek white floor, as the machine moves across it.
Using a small limb from its chest it pushes itself on the opening.
Ripping it apart, it soon exits the space.
Upon exiting the confined space, the machine enters a larger room.
Still white in design, yet with much more area to move around.
At its center lies a large white tree.
Its branches hold space.
Its bark is built from hands holding itself together.
Behind the tree, two stairways lead to an upper floor.
While in between the two stairways lies a single opening.
The machine unable to go up the stairways heads to the lower route.
In front of the machine lies a hallway.
Adorned with several rooms along its long halls.
Moving across the never-ending passageways, a split soon forms.
The left holding a single room, the right continuing the route.
Heading into the left room the machine soon sees a carving on the wall.
The carving is of a triangle, split into 8.
Each has different colors attached to them.
A sign in front of the carving holds the following word: Innocence.
Yet the machine could not understand the carving.
All it knows is that it has a job to complete.
If not then what?
Deciding to continue, the machine takes the right.
The alleys of white were never-ending.
Yet a brighter light could be seen at the end of the tunnel.
Stolen story; please report.
Entering the end the machine is met with the same tree from the beginning.
Its branches now hold small white leaves.
Defeat is all the machine felt.
The machine did all of that for nothing.
A long journey simply to be met with the same.
Instead of entering the halls again, the machine simply lay next to the tree.
It thought to itself; why was I placed here?
For what purpose did the machine have to be in such a place?
Were the words of man of such importance?
Who is the one upstairs?
Why was it the machine's responsibility?
These thoughts raced throughout the machine's thoughts.
Soon their thoughts were placed to rest, as small voices could be heard.
Soft whistles of the air brought voices into the room.
Their communal sound spoke to the machine, its voice soft and gentle.
"What stresses you small creature of steel?"
The machine pondered how to answer, and a few seconds passed by before it responded.
"Where am I?"
The wind took a few minutes to respond before starting again.
"You are where the innocents lie, those who hold no ill-will to the world, who have done no wrong, but whose souls were defeated and defiled. A resting place for the wronged."
"How would one find the 'one upstairs'"
"I cannot help you with that, you will have to travel outside of this realm to find that out"
The machine took a few seconds to take in the answer.
Soon a response was formulated, another question.
"How do I leave"
The wind refused to answer.
It grew quiet, no longer calling for a response.
A small leaf fell from the tree, onto the head of the machine.
The machine organized what it knew from the wind.
It is located where innocence lies, seemingly the wind doesn't want it to leave, and to find out whom to send the final words of man the machine must travel somewhere else.
The machine decided it was best to begin moving once again, this time up the staircase.
It rolled its way over to the large staircase.
The staircase loomed over the machine yet it tried to move up.
Its wheels simply bump into the stairway, having no ability to truly go up it.
"Do you require assistance?"
A voice spoke, it held no gender nor emotion.
The machine looked back to see the body of a person.
It was human, yet it lacked a face.
Its body is bony with sharp turns all around it.
Skinny and lanky with its shape.
The person repeated once again.
"Do you require assistance?"
"Yes"
The person picked the machine up and moved up the stairs.
Placing the machine down at the top the person would tell their farewells.
Before they could leave however the machine asked.
"Why are you here?"
The person would respond in a dry tone before leaving.
"I am guiltless"
This left the machine puzzled but accepted the response.
It soon passed through the large gates at the top of the stairwell.
In front of it lies a forest of trees.
Its bodies are formed by arms holding each other together.
A tree of limbs attached over and over.
The machine understood; that it would need to pass through this forest to continue.
