She looked up at the electric sky and it was the closest thing to Heaven for her. Such raw power. Such vivid purple streaks.
The electricity scented the air and it was heavenly. It smelled like wires and circuit boards and fuses.
She sighed, but no air left her mouth. No breath. It was a programmed reflex to make her seem more natural.
It was a strange thing to her. She had more in common with the lightning storm than she did to any humans. But they wanted her to match their nature of flesh and blood and breath. Their nature of life and death.
Life and death was not in her nature. How could she die if she weren’t truly alive? But what was she if she weren’t alive?
She could see.
She could smell.
She could feel.
But she wasn’t human.
She wasn’t alive.
Being under the electric sky, however, made her feel oh so alive. More alive than any human had ever felt or would ever know.
Vivid lightning bolts chased each other across the sky.
She watched them and smiled.
This was her idea of Heaven and it always would be.