Angels of wires, drives and black wings.
Over the towersch. 7
Winged angels with “metal below the ear and inside the neck” watch people in their little cubicle shelters, “stalking us like prey,” in monolith towers risen from no ground. They wake the narrator, their metal glowing and beeping a forgotten pattern, and slide a drive behind the narrator's ear “like a slit of a lock.”
On the battlefieldch. 15
“A fallen angel maybe,” the head of a squadron, almost seven feet tall in black armor with a plasma spear, fights Samson. Black-winged, it crawls over his mech like a spider, shows a deformed face with many mandibles, and pulls the memory chip from behind his ear. Samson calls it a demon.