NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO...

Maybe it was because of the constant vigilance expected of him, eyes unblinking and world ever turning. Perhaps it was how the days always changed but the people never seemed to. But whatever could have been the cause of such strife and regret, Requiem was sure that all he needed was a break before things became the slightest taste of volatile.

It was absolutely unheard of for a seraphim to just, stop. He was destined to fulfill his duties as a guardian, but yet with each passing second the angel only grew more and more irritated with the world he had to govern and protect. People were selfish! Cold, cruel, harsh. Those he shepherded to a better life would either stay fine or, begrudgingly, fall through the cracks of sin and come out twisted once more. And the angel knew it wasn't their faults (at least, so he tried to convince himself), but let's see you try to caretake for a whole world of people and not gain a few grey hairs.

The only way he would keep in contact with the world he was destined to protect, he decided, was with a Gateway laptop. Top of the line, too! With such a human novelty, he can keep watch of what went on and still technically be doing his job. It's like that Windows guy had said, lazy people find easy ways to do hard jobs. So with that, Requiem slipped into a non-existent crevice of time and space, made himself cozy in his little birdcage, and finally admired the sound of silence and the thoughts that coursed through his head. 

... EVERYONE'S CONNECTED

There was only so much perching a bird could do until their wings would begin to ache for wind's ichor, and for Requiem it was no exception. He grew and understood the world through blue-tinted lens, and yet even he couldn't turn his eyes away at the fact that the world was changing and that he was growing restless. At this point, twenty years past, he's grown quite comfortable with the recedes of his mind and quite confident in how he had scourged every nook and cranny of what the cybernetic world had to offer him. At last, with this being the last of his vacation days, the seraph was finally energized enough to fly back out to his world and guide humankind once more. 

There was just one problem, however.

In his lazy haste, Requiem had forgotten to craft an exit in his one-way trip to peace and quiet.

He pondered and thought and fought to get out of his own cage, desperate to gain control of his situation and see a way out of it, but alas. Nothing gave, nothing yielded, and it seemed that the laptop that was a companion to him was now mocking him for his foolishness. The angel was about to give up entire and resign himself to his Icarian fate when something dawned on him.

All this time, he did have a door. A window, rather. The very same he looked out from for the past twenty years.

With a final, last-ditch effort, he sent himself as a message in a bottle and threw himself into the vastness of cyberspace the only way he knew how: with infectious chain mail designed to charge the power to release him and a cast to set him free.

11:11. Three people for energy, and the fourth to bring him back.

"Thank you."