Chapter Text
The day before the wedding.
"You should get over him... just like I did."
His shadow stared at its master in utter disbelief.
How could he dare say something so absurd after what had happened yesterday? After kissing Lucifer with such desperate passion while thinking of Vox.
Why do you refuse to admit that you miss him?
"HA, ha, ha! Me? Miss him?" Alastor suddenly exclaimed in his trademark sarcastic tone, startling even his own shadow. "Of course not. And what happened yesterday..." He waved a dismissive hand. "It was nothing more than a mistake. A lapse in judgment. A simple stumble."
His smile sharpened.
"I've already told you—I have no intention of throwing away everything I've worked for over all these years. So keep your sentimental nonsense to yourself."
His posture, however, betrayed him.
Alastor stood noticeably tenser than usual, gripping his cane far tighter than necessary as he pointed it toward the shadow. His ears had tilted ever so slightly backward.
Proof enough that he was nervous.
The Radio Demon let out a huff.
No...
It was closer to a growl of frustration.
His shadow's lips curled into a victorious grin.
"Oh, enough with your childish games," Alastor snapped. "Or I'll punish you by spending some quality time with my fiancé."
The threat had exactly the desired effect.
The shadow's expression twisted into pure disgust... followed immediately by horror.
Alastor couldn't help enjoying the reaction.
For a brief moment, the creature simply stared at him in defeated silence.
Yet behind that look lingered a stubborn spark that seemed to say:
I'm not giving up.
Without another sound, the shadow melted into the floor, gliding across it like living ink until it came to rest at Alastor's feet, revealing its full silhouette once more.
(...)
"CHARLIE! Your father's here!" Lucifer called the moment he stepped into the hall.
The King of Hell came to an abrupt halt the instant he crossed the threshold.
The confident stride he'd carried only moments ago vanished as his eyes slowly swept across the grand ballroom before him. Every carefully arranged detail—the lights, the flowers, the elegant decorations, the atmosphere itself—was enough to steal his breath.
For a long moment...
He simply stood there in silence.
A genuine, beautiful smile gradually spread across his face. His crimson eyes shimmered with a mixture of wonder and emotion as a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him.
"...Wow," he murmured, almost to himself. "It's... it's even more beautiful than I imagined."
For the first time in a long while, Lucifer allowed himself to simply feel.
A warm knot formed in his chest as he realized how much love and care had gone into every last detail. This wasn't merely a decorated ballroom.
It was the place where the next chapter of his life would begin.
Unable to contain her excitement any longer, Charlie hurried toward him with a radiant smile lighting up her face. Without a second thought, she wrapped her father in a warm embrace.
"Dad! I'm so happy you're finally here!"
She pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, still beaming with pride.
"So? What do you think? We wanted everything to be perfect for you two."
Lucifer looked around the hall once more before resting a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
The pride in his eyes was unmistakable, accompanied by a tenderness he reserved for no one else but his daughter.
"Charlie... it's perfect. I couldn't have imagined a more beautiful place to celebrate something this important. You did an incredible job."
"Thanks, Dad," she replied with a bright smile as she took his hand. "My friends and my girlfriend helped me a lot. We've got everything covered."
She began leading him through the ballroom as she eagerly pointed out every detail.
"The chefs already know exactly when the banquet should be served. There's a special appetizer table just for the cannibals, every table already has assigned seating for each sinner, demon, and Overlord attending the ceremony. We've also prepared blood for the cannibals... and an entire dessert table with specialty sweets."
Lucifer simply listened.
His little girl could barely contain her excitement.
Her eyes sparkled with every word she spoke.
And Lucifer couldn't have been prouder of the kind, compassionate woman she had become.
There was no doubt about it.
She had done an extraordinary job.
When Charlie finally led him to the newlyweds' table, Lucifer stopped to admire it.
Everything blended together beautifully.
The arch of crimson roses was breathtaking, but what truly drew his attention were the two thrones.
One, crimson and black, had unmistakably been designed for Alastor.
The other, ivory white and gold, was his own.
They complemented one another perfectly, like two partners dancing in perfect harmony.
Every detail reflected one of them, while others blended their personalities into something entirely new.
It was...
Beautiful.
Then Lucifer noticed something.
Something he hadn't seen before.
Alastor's throne....was bigger than his.
Not by much.
It wasn't an exaggerated or grotesque difference that could be noticed from across the room.
But once you stood close enough...
It became impossible to ignore.
The crimson throne's backrest rose a few inches higher.
Its armrests were noticeably wider.
Even the seat itself sat just slightly higher.
Enough for anyone approaching the table to notice the obvious difference.
Lucifer blinked several times.
"...Charlie?"
"Hm? Yes, Dad?" she answered cheerfully.
The King pointed toward the thrones with visible uncertainty.
"...Has Alastor's seat... always been bigger than mine?"
Charlie's smile vanished.
"...Huh?"
Her gaze followed the direction of his finger.
Then she froze.
"...What?"
She stepped closer.
Her expression shifted from confusion...
...to complete disbelief.
"Wait... why is it bigger?"
Lucifer tilted his head.
"That's exactly what I was wondering."
Charlie examined both thrones once again.
Now that she'd noticed...
The difference was obvious.
How had she never seen it before?
She had personally overseen the preparations for weeks.
She had helped choose the flowers, the tablecloths, the seating arrangements...
And yet she'd never realized.
"I... I don't remember asking for anything like this..." she murmured, utterly bewildered.
Lucifer narrowed his eyes.
"Maybe it was a mistake on the decorator's part?"
Charlie slowly shook her head.
"I... I don't know..."
Lucifer looked at his daughter before letting out a tired sigh.
Maybe... Alastor was the one who... changed...
No.
He couldn't have.
He never would.
Alastor loved him...
Didn't he?
"Dad?"
Lucifer snapped out of his thoughts and turned toward Charlie, who was watching him with concern.
"Whatever you're thinking... you can tell me."
She offered him a reassuring smile.
"I don't want you worrying the day before your wedding."
Her eyes drifted briefly toward Alastor's throne.
"Maybe..."
"...it was just a manufacturing mistake."
She looked back at him before placing both hands gently on his shoulders.
"Alastor would never do something just to hurt you... or humiliate you in public."
Alastor would never do something just to hurt you... or humiliate you in public.
Those words struck Lucifer straight in the heart.
Without another thought, he pulled Charlie into a tight embrace.
Small tears slipped from his eyes.
Because she was right.
Of course she was right.
How could he have doubted Alastor, even for a moment?
How could he?
It had to be the stress of the wedding.
That was all.
Surely it was nothing more than a manufacturing mistake.
"I'm sorry, Charlie," he said softly as he pulled away, wiping his tears with an embarrassed smile. "I think I've just been... a little stressed. That's all."
Charlie released a quiet sigh.
One that sounded far more like relief than understanding.
"Look..." she began gently. "Everything's ready for tomorrow. The guest gifts are already waiting at the hotel's reception."
She smiled.
"So... what do you say the three of us—you, Vaggie, and me—go out for dinner tonight?"
"It'll help us clear our heads before tomorrow."
She giggled.
"Cherry and Husk can stay with Angel, and Alastor can look after the hotel."
"And..." Lucifer smiled. "Why don't we invite Alastor to dinner with us?"
Charlie brightened.
"Well... we can ask if he'd like to come."
Lucifer nodded.
Charlie's smile widened.
Vaggie had always been there whenever Charlie felt overwhelmed.
Now...
It was Charlie's turn to take care of her father.
Even if only for one evening.
Perhaps all this stress had something to do with the Vees being invited to the wedding.
That decision had been... incredibly strange.
Especially because the one who had insisted on inviting them had been Alastor himself.
Charlie had been confused.
Vaggie had been utterly incredulous.
And Lucifer...
Lucifer had been deeply hurt.
Alastor had personally requested invitations for the very people who had once tried to kill him with a cannon years ago.
Still, Alastor had calmly argued that it served "a greater purpose" and could prove beneficial in the future.
The Vees hadn't attended many public events lately.
Not to mention that the company now operated under the name VeeTek, with Valentino and Velvette acting as its public faces.
As for Vox...
No one knew anything anymore.
Every recent product featuring him had quietly disappeared, and all upcoming projects involving him had been canceled.
Charlie had been uncomfortable with the idea...
But eventually accepted it.
After all...
Alastor would soon become her stepfather.
Vaggie had merely rolled her eyes, choosing not to argue.
Lucifer...
Well...
He had accepted the arrangement rather reluctantly.
On one condition.
The Vees would be seated all the way in the farthest corner of the ballroom.
And Baxter would install whatever security system was necessary to keep them from taking control of any electronic devices—or infecting them with a virus, or whatever else they might try.
He wasn't about to let his wedding turn into a public disaster.
And in the end...
Alastor had no choice but to agree.
(...)
"Vee... please... you have to get up..." Velvette pleaded softly. "Why don't you go spend some time with Shocky?"
No response.
The room remained completely silent.
The curtains had been drawn shut since yesterday.
Every screen was dark.
Something Vox would never allow.
He had abandoned all of his work, and ever since collapsing the day before, he hadn't gone to visit Shocky once.
His pet shark had sent countless messages to his screen.
She had even tried synchronizing their frequencies.
Nothing.
The only thing Shocky ever received in return...
...was static.
And an overwhelming sense of sadness.
Vox remained lying on his bed with his back turned to Valentino and Velvette, most of his body hidden beneath a blanket.
He hadn't moved in hours.
He didn't even seem to have heard Velvette.
Valentino let out a weary sigh.
They had been trying all morning.
They had brought him food.
Put on movies.
Talked about work.
Gossiped.
Even shared interesting facts about sharks.
Nothing.
Vox's blue eyes remained fixed on some nonexistent point on the wall.
Empty.
Exhausted.
As though life itself had abandoned his body, leaving behind nothing but an empty shell moving through sheer inertia.
The physical pain still hadn't completely faded.
And the emotional pain...
...had torn a hole straight through his PSU.
Or at least...
...through what he considered his heart.
"Voxy..." Valentino insisted, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "Come on, sweetheart... say something."
Silence.
Velvette swallowed hard.
She had never seen him like this.
She'd seen him stressed.
Furious.
Obsessed.
She had even seen him cry.
But never...
Like this.
It was as though someone had taken something essential from him.
As though he had simply...
Stopped fighting.
As though there were nothing left inside him anymore.
"Vox..." she whispered. "You can't keep going like this..."
She gently tapped his shoulder.
"You're really worrying me..."
Nothing.
Not a movement.
Not a single word.
He merely pulled the blanket tighter around himself.
"Please, Voxy... try to accept it..." Valentino sighed, resting two of his hands on his knees.
"He's... moving on with his life now..."
His voice softened.
"So... why don't you try doing the same?"
He forced out a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.
"Besides... it's not like you can just walk over to that old-fashioned radio tower and talk to him."
Silence.
Three...
Two...
One...
Vox's screen flickered.
Once.
Velvette frowned.
The atmosphere inside the room changed.
Slowly.
Far too slowly.
Vox turned his head.
His blue eyes, dull and lifeless only moments before, suddenly held something again.
Whether it was happiness...
Or hope...
Neither of them could tell.
But it was...
An idea.
Valentino's smile disappeared.
"...Voxy?"
The television-headed demon ignored him completely.
He carefully pushed himself off the bed, trying to summon strength he honestly no longer possessed.
Even so...
He forced himself to stand.
Step by step, he walked toward the enormous windows overlooking Pentagram City.
Instead of using his powers, he manually pulled the curtains open.
A beautiful crimson sky greeted him.
Nightfall was beginning.
The sun slowly disappeared beneath Hell's horizon as the city sank into darker shades of red.
Vox stared into the distance.
Searching.
Beyond Pentagram City's skyline...
Toward a place he once knew by heart.
A place he used to visit.
Then...
He found it.
Far to the north.
Among the abandoned outskirts of Pentagram City.
A ruined stretch of land.
Little more than shattered foundations left behind by a battle that had changed everything.
Alastor's territory.
<His old Radio Tower. It's been years since I last set foot there... I don't have control over the surveillance cameras anymore... so I'll have to walk. It doesn't matter. The moment I get there... he'll feel my presence. He'll know I'm there. I know he will. And if he doesn't come... Then that'll tell me everything I need to know. But if he does... Even if it's only to reject me... At least... I'll have been able to say goodbye>
"...Vox?"
Velvette slowly approached him.
"What... are you thinking about?"
Vox turned toward her.
She looked anxious.
Terrified.
Hopeful.
He could see every emotion written across her face.
He offered her the best smile he could manage.
Small.
Fragile.
Then he spoke.
"I'm going to Alastor's territory."
A brief pause.
"To his old Radio Tower."
Valentino nearly fell backward in alarm.
Velvette simply stared at him.
Speechless.
The two Vees remained silent as Vox closed the curtains once more before walking toward his wardrobe.
"Vox... you can't do this..." Velvette said quietly.
"Vee... this is a terrible idea."
Unlike her, Valentino remained seated, following every one of Vox's movements.
With concern.
...And with the lingering lust that never completely left his nature.
"Listen to her, baby..." he murmured, resting his chin in one hand while openly admiring the television demon's bare back.
"Stay here with us instead..."
Vox ignored the remark entirely.
He didn't have the energy to argue.
Nor the desire to answer.
He simply continued getting dressed.
He slipped into a slightly loose black turtleneck.
Its sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, the fabric creased from days of neglect.
Over it, he put on a long burgundy coat.
Far more understated than the extravagant coats he usually wore as an Overlord.
He pulled on a pair of black gloves that concealed his claws.
One of them sat slightly crooked.
As though he'd put it on in a hurry.
His black trousers fell neatly over a pair of polished leather boots.
"Velvette... you can turn around now."
He stepped toward the full-length mirror in his room.
...Damn.
He looked awful.
The clothes did him a tremendous favor.
But his face...
He looked exhausted.
His eyes were swollen.
Tiny cracks still ran across his screen from the day he collapsed—damage he hadn't even bothered repairing.
Dark circles framed his eyes.
And yet...
He didn't give a damn.
Tonight...
Tonight was all he had left.
One chance to set everything straight.
One chance to talk to him.
Tomorrow would be too late.
Tomorrow...
Alastor would be married.
The thought was irrational.
Ridiculous.
But true.
<I need to see him... I need to apologize... Just one last time... Even if it gets me killed. I know he'll be cruel to me. He always is... But I'm already so broken... What else do I have left to lose...?>
"Just one conversation..."
His voice barely rose above a whisper.
"...That's all I need."
Both Valentino and Velvette heard him.
"No, sweetheart."
Valentino finally rose from the bed, his tall frame casting a shadow as he walked toward Vox.
"Voxy... why?" His voice softened, almost pleading. "Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"
He stopped in front of him.
"Even if that idiot actually listens to you—which I seriously doubt—nothing's going to change."
"The wedding is tomorrow."
He spread his arms in frustration.
"What exactly are you expecting?"
"That Alastor's suddenly going to kiss you and say, 'Oh, Vox, yes! Let's run away together and spend eternity fucking'?"
He shook his head.
"Vox... things aren't that simple."
"But the wedding is tomorrow."
"I hate to say it, Vee..." Velvette sighed as she stepped beside Valentino, "...but he's got a point."
Valentino looked at her in mock offense.
"And you know how much I hate agreeing with this idiot."
She folded her arms.
"What exactly are you hoping to accomplish?"
She looked at him with genuine concern.
"He probably won't even let you speak once you're there."
Vox remained silent.
He didn't answer.
Instead, after one last look at his reflection in the mirror, he walked back to the wardrobe.
He reached into the back and pulled out an old coat.
"I know."
His voice was calm.
"I know this sounds completely insane."
"And I know it smells like a terrible idea."
He searched through one of the inner pockets until his fingers found something.
"I'm fully aware of the consequences of what I'm about to do."
He slowly withdrew half of an old, wrinkled photograph.
He stared at it for only a second.
Then carefully folded it again and slipped it into the inside pocket of the coat he was wearing.
"But..."
"If there's even the slightest chance he'll listen to me..."
"...I'll take it."
He looked at them both.
"I'd rather come back covered in scars and wounds..."
"...than stay here wondering what would've happened if I'd gone."
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.
"Physical wounds heal."
"Uncertainty doesn't."
He walked toward the bedroom door.
"Tomorrow he gets married."
"I only have tonight."
"So I'm going."
"Even if he doesn't want to see me."
"If he has something to say to me..."
"...then let him say it."
"And if he has nothing to say..."
"...that's fine too."
"But I'm not staying here."
Silence.
Valentino and Velvette simply stared at him.
It had been a long time since either of them had seen Vox speak with such certainty.
Valentino...
Well.
Watching Vox stand there with that determination awakened desires he'd rather not admit.
Velvette, however, felt something entirely different.
She remained speechless.
Looking at him.
And for the first time in what felt like forever...
She felt a tiny spark of happiness.
Mixed...
With pride.
"Well?"
Vox asked impatiently.
"Aren't either of you going to say something?"
"If I'm leaving, then I don't have any time to waste."
Valentino opened his mouth.
Before he could utter a single word—
THUD!
Velvette drove her elbow straight into his ribs.
Hard.
"—AH, FUCK, VELVETTE!"
He doubled over, clutching his side.
"Goddamn it... that hurt!"
Velvette ignored him completely.
She stepped closer to Vox instead.
"Make him listen, Vee."
Her voice was steady.
"Do what you do best."
"I know you can."
"If this is what you need to finally let go..."
"...then do it."
"Don't waste another second."
She unlocked her phone and quickly tapped across the screen.
"I'll restore your access to Pentagram City's camera network."
"So you can get closer to his territory."
A moment later...
Vox felt it.
Like electricity flooding back into his body.
His connection.
His cameras.
His influence.
His power.
It all came rushing back at once.
He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until now.
He looked at Velvette.
She simply smiled.
A small...
Sincere smile.
Vox returned it.
Gentle.
Warm.
Almost grateful.
Velvette stepped closer.
For a moment...
She said nothing.
She simply looked at him.
"...Vee."
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Promise me...that you'll come back. Don't let whatever answer he gives you... destroy you... please."
Silence.
That...Was the only answer Vox gave her.
He simply turned toward the door.
And walked away.
(...)
"Darling, aren't you coming with us?" Lucifer asked, looking at his fiancé with pleading eyes. "The four of us could go out for dinner."
"My apologies, Luci," Alastor replied with his usual impeccable smile, "but I think it's a far better idea if you, Charlie, and Vagina..." He let out an amused chuckle. "...go enjoy some fresh air."
Lucifer turned to him, wearing an expression that barely concealed his amusement.
"Why do you keep calling her Vagina?"
"Force of habit, my dear."
Vaggie let out a long, exhausted sigh.
"He's never going to let that go, is he?"
"Never," Charlie answered with a resigned smile.
Lucifer made one last attempt.
"You could at least come for a little while."
He smiled warmly.
"We're getting married tomorrow."
Alastor's smile remained flawless.
Courteous.
Elegant.
And just distant enough to keep everyone at arm's length.
"Precisely because of that, my dear fiancé," he answered smoothly. "I think it would do us both good to enjoy our final hours of bachelorhood in our own ways."
Lucifer narrowed his eyes with a teasing grin.
"That sounds suspiciously romantic for someone who claims to hate romance."
"Hate it?" Alastor chuckled.
"No."
"I simply prefer admiring it..."
"...from a safe distance."
Lucifer folded his arms.
"And what exactly do you plan on doing instead?"
The Radio Demon's smile widened ever so slightly.
"Oh, I was thinking of taking a pleasant walk through the city..."
"...or perhaps going hunting."
"It's been quite some time since I've had any proper entertainment."
Charlie opened her mouth, clearly intending to persuade him one last time.
She never got the chance.
From the hotel bar, a familiar, mischievous voice rose above the conversation.
"Oh, Smiles..."
Angel Dust lazily twirled the drink in his fingers, an unmistakably wicked grin stretching across his face.
"If it's entertainment you're looking for..."
"...I'm sure you could find it somewhere else."
He winked.
"Think of it as your bachelor party."
Silence.
Just for a heartbeat.
It was enough.
Lucifer reacted before Alastor even had the opportunity.
In two long strides he was beside him.
Without hesitation, he wrapped an arm around Alastor's waist, pulling him close with a possessiveness so natural it didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the lobby.
"My fiancé doesn't need a bachelor party," Lucifer declared with a dazzling smile that was just tense enough to border on threatening.
"He already has all the entertainment he needs..."
"...with me."
Angel burst into loud laughter.
"Oh, relax! It was a joke!"
"I didn't find it particularly amusing."
"That's because you don't have a sense of humor."
"Oh, I do."
Lucifer smiled sweetly.
"I simply don't laugh at jokes involving my future husband."
Throughout the entire exchange...
Alastor never moved.
His elegant smile never once left his face.
But the moment Lucifer pulled him just a little closer...
A tiny sound escaped the Radio Demon's throat.
A brief click of annoyance.
So quiet...
Anyone else might have mistaken it for nothing more than a breath.
Anyone...
Except Husk.
The old cat, still polishing a glass behind the counter, raised one eyebrow ever so slightly.
His yellow eyes flickered toward Alastor for only a second.
...He didn't like that?
It wasn't the first time Husk had seen that expression.
He'd known Alastor far too long not to recognize the tiny cracks hiding beneath that flawless smile.
He said nothing.
Simply continued polishing the glass while observing the scene out of the corner of his eye.
Cherry Bomb laughed loudly from where she leaned against the bar with a bottle in hand.
"Ha! Look at his face, Spider! Keep it up and the King of Hell's gonna throw you through a window."
Angel shrugged.
"Worth it."
"No, seriously." Cherry pointed the neck of her bottle toward Lucifer.
"He's about two seconds away from marking his territory."
Almost as though he'd heard her...
Lucifer pulled Alastor even closer.
The Radio Demon's smile grew visibly tighter.
"'Marking his territory,' huh?" Angel grinned from ear to ear.
"Oh yeah..."
"He's definitely marking his territory."
"Angel..." Charlie warned, sounding somewhere between embarrassed and exhausted.
"What? It's true!"
"You're not helping."
"I never do."
As if summoned from thin air, Niffty suddenly appeared beside them, clutching a feather duster.
Her enormous yellow eye darted frantically across the room before landing on the couple.
"Awww!"
She clasped her hands against her cheeks.
"How romantic!"
"They're hugging before the wedding!"
Lucifer looked immensely pleased.
"See?"
"Someone appreciates the gesture."
Niffty tilted her head.
"Although..."
"Alastor looks a little stiff."
Silence.
Every conversation stopped.
Slowly...
Alastor turned his head toward her.
His smile never faltered.
"Stiff, dear?"
"Uh-huh!"
She nodded enthusiastically.
"Like when dead bodies start getting all rigid!"
Charlie immediately buried her face in one hand.
"Niffty!"
"What?"
"It's a scientific fact!"
From a corner of the lobby, Baxter barely looked up from an odd machine covered in test tubes, wires, and tiny arcs of electricity.
He adjusted his glasses.
"Actually..."
"Rigor mortis generally begins between two and six hours after death, depending on numerous physiological variables..."
Silence fell again.
Cherry burst out laughing.
Angel nearly choked on his drink.
"Thanks, nerd!"
"That definitely improved the mood."
"I was merely correcting an objectively inaccurate statement."
"Well, thanks for the science lesson."
Without another word, Baxter calmly returned his attention to his invention.
Husk set the glass onto the counter with a dull thunk.
"You idiots done embarrassing yourselves yet?"
"Not even close," Angel answered with a grin.
"...Figures."
While everyone continued bantering back and forth, Husk glanced at Alastor once more.
The smile was still there.
Perfect.
Unbreakable.
Just as it always was.
But the Radio Demon's fingers had tightened around the handle of his cane. And although Lucifer continued holding him with a mixture of pride and affection...
Alastor wasn't returning the embrace.
Not even a little.
He simply endured it.
As though he were silently counting the seconds until he could reclaim his personal space.
Husk shifted his gaze toward Lucifer...
...but kept his mouth shut.
Angel was still grinning shamelessly from the bar.
Cherry was laughing with her head thrown back.
Charlie was desperately trying to change the subject before Lucifer decided to turn Angel's joke into an international incident.
Incidentally...
The King of Hell was still clinging to Alastor.
And the Radio Demon... Was beginning to lose his patience.
Then it happened.
Alastor's shadow trembled.
It wasn't a violent movement.
Just a faint ripple beneath his shoes, as though the lights in the lobby had flickered for the briefest instant.
Husk was the first to notice.
He frowned.
"...Huh?"
The darkness slowly stretched behind Alastor, slithering across the floor with unnatural elegance.
Gradually, it began to rise, taking on the familiar tall, twisted silhouette everyone at the hotel knew all too well.
Two enormous white eyes.
A smile just as wide as it was unsettling.
Long, ink-like arms that seemed to flow without bones.
The shadow didn't make a sound.
It simply...
Watched.
Its gaze shifted from Lucifer...
...to Alastor.
Then back to Lucifer again.
Without the slightest hesitation, it stepped directly between them.
Its elongated arms shot forward, yanking Lucifer away from its master in one swift motion.
The unexpected force made the King of Hell stumble backward.
Several people stared in open disbelief.
Lucifer merely smiled with quiet resignation.
"...Hello to you too."
He tried leaning to one side to look past the creature.
The shadow instantly mirrored his movement.
Lucifer didn't even notice the moment the creature grew larger, looming over him like a living wall.
He stepped to the left.
The shadow blocked him.
"...Come on..."
Lucifer sighed patiently.
"Please?"
He took a tiny step to the right.
Same result.
Back to the left.
Again...
Blocked.
It was almost ridiculous.
They looked as though they were dancing.
The shadow simply refused to let him through.
Angel was the first to burst into laughter.
"HA! It's blocking you!"
"Damn!" Cherry cackled. "That thing's acting like his bodyguard!"
Charlie watched the entire exchange with utter confusion.
"...Does it always do that?"
She rested a hand thoughtfully against her chin.
"When it's in a bad mood..."
"...Yeah."
Husk never took his eyes off Alastor as he answered.
The Radio Demon's response was a sharp, unmistakable screech of annoyance.
Without a word, Husk resumed polishing the same glass for what had to be the second time.
Lucifer released a patient sigh.
"Alright...I get it."
Slowly...
Very carefully...
He raised one hand.
Not to push the creature aside.
Not to force his way through.
Simply... To pet it. Its head. Its ears.
Just as he had done with Alastor the night before, before they'd gone to sleep.
"Easy..."
Lucifer whispered, his voice impossibly gentle.
His fingers moved forward at an almost painfully slow pace.
Only a few inches remained before they would touch the dark creature...
When the shadow reacted.
It jerked backward as though Lucifer's touch itself were revolting.
Or perhaps...
Disgusting.
A low hiss escaped its mouth.
Not threatening.
More like the irritated hiss of a kitten refusing to be petted.
"Ssshhh..."
The creature wrinkled its expression ever so slightly before turning its head away, retreating from Lucifer's hand with unmistakable disgust.
Its body seemed to shrink just a little...
Yet it never stopped keeping its distance between Lucifer...
...and Alastor.
If anyone had harbored doubts before...
There were none now.
Alastor's own shadow did not want Lucifer anywhere near its master.
Charlie's smile slowly faded.
Vaggie looked completely bewildered.
Lucifer quietly lowered his hand.
He didn't seem angry.
Only...
Sad.
"...Well..."
He smiled with that gentle, almost childlike warmth that rarely left him.
"I suppose..."
"...it still doesn't like me."
No one answered.
Everyone knew it was true.
The shadow had never hidden its dislike for Lucifer...
But never...
Never this openly.
What the hell changed?
Alastor closed his eyes for the briefest moment.
One silent sigh escaped his lips before that immaculate smile settled back into place.
<Fuck not now>
With a small motion, he tapped the floor with the tip of his cane.
"Behave."
His voice remained pleasant.
Refined.
Yet hidden beneath it was the unmistakable edge of a threat.
The creature immediately turned toward him.
Its expression was one of utter annoyance and exhaustion.
Thankfully...
Alastor was the only one capable of seeing it.
The shadow lowered its head.
Its shoulders slumped ever so slightly.
Like a child being scolded.
Still...
Before disappearing...
It cast one final look toward Lucifer.
A look filled with unmistakable distrust.
Then it slowly melted back into the floor until it rested naturally at Alastor's feet once more.
The Radio Demon struck the floor again with his cane.
This time...
Out of genuine irritation.
"My sincerest apologies, my dear."
His voice instantly returned to its cheerful cadence, as though nothing unusual had happened.
"It occasionally forgets its manners."
Lucifer slowly shook his head.
"Don't worry."
He smiled softly.
"I'm used to it by now."
Although the smile remained on his lips...
His eyes betrayed a small flicker of sadness.
Those words tugged at something inside Alastor's chest.
Just for a second.
He stepped forward with slow, graceful movements and reached up to straighten Lucifer's bow tie.
"You shouldn't be."
His fingers lingered against the fabric for only a heartbeat before withdrawing.
"I'll be having...a conversation with it later."
Lucifer chuckled quietly.
"You always say that."
"And I always mean it."
Charlie smiled in relief.
At last...The awkward moment seemed to have passed.
"Well then..." Charlie began.
Before she could finish, Alastor clapped his hands together with theatrical enthusiasm.
"But enough dawdling!"
The sudden burst of energy was so abrupt it almost felt rehearsed.
"Don't the three of you have a lovely dinner reservation waiting?"
Charlie's eyes went wide.
"The reservation!"
"I told you we'd be late," Vaggie muttered, though her gaze still lingered on the spot where the shadow had disappeared.
Lucifer let out a quiet laugh.
"I suppose we really should get going."
"It would be a terrible shame to keep the restaurant waiting," Alastor agreed pleasantly.
Lucifer looked back at him.
"Are you sure you'll be alright?"
Alastor gave a carefree wave of his hand.
"My dear, I've spent decades entertaining myself. I believe I can survive one more evening."
Charlie finally nodded.
"Alright..."
"But don't disappear for too long."
"I'll do my best."
With perfect gentlemanly manners, Alastor stepped aside and opened the hotel doors for them.
Lucifer smiled one last time before walking toward the exit alongside Charlie and Vaggie.
"See you later."
Without warning, Lucifer gently hooked a finger beneath Alastor's bow tie and gave it a light tug, bringing the Radio Demon down to his height.
Then...
He placed a soft kiss directly upon Alastor's ever-present smile.
Charlie couldn't help letting out a tiny,
"Aww..."
Vaggie merely smiled to herself.
Alastor, meanwhile...
Barely managed to suppress the screech of disgust threatening to escape his throat.
"Until later, my dear," Lucifer said as he pulled away with a warm smile.
The hotel doors slowly closed behind the three of them.
Silence settled over the lobby.
For all of two seconds.
Then Angel let out a long whistle.
"Welp..."
He crossed his arms.
"That was weird."
"Very weird," Baxter agreed without looking up from the blueprints in his hands.
"The shadow's reaction was... emotionally selective."
Angel blinked.
"...In English, fish-boy."
Baxter adjusted his glasses.
"It only reacts like that around Lucifer."
"But why?" Cherry asked, genuinely puzzled.
"Aren't he and Alastor engaged?"
Husk finally finished polishing the glass he'd been holding.
With the calm composure of someone who preferred staying out of trouble, he poured Angel another drink.
Then...
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Barely more than a snort.
But enough.
The moment he realized what he'd done, he immediately smothered it with a cough and became extremely interested in rearranging the bottles behind the bar.
Too late.
Every pair of eyes in the room turned toward him.
Angel arched an eyebrow.
"...And what's so funny?"
Cherry grinned mischievously.
"You know something, kitty?"
For the first time in several minutes, Baxter looked up from his papers.
Clearly intrigued.
Nearby, Niffty—who had been enthusiastically stabbing a dead rat with a kitchen knife—paused mid-stab.
Her enormous yellow eye slowly lifted toward Husk.
Curious.
...Is he really going to say it? Alastor's going to be furious if he does...
Husk said nothing.
Because another gaze had settled upon him.
One far less friendly.
Alastor.
He didn't even need to turn around completely to feel it.
That eternal smile was still there.
Perfect.
Impeccable.
Exactly as always.
But...
His eyes were an entirely different story.
A silent warning.
A very clear one.
Husk held the stare for only a second before casually looking away.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The lie rolled off his tongue as he wiped the rim of a bottle with a rag.
Angel narrowed his eyes.
"Uh-huh..."
"And I'm a nun."
"Wouldn't be the strangest outfit I've ever seen you wear," Husk shot back, returning the bottle to the shelf.
Angel barked out a laugh.
Cherry joined him almost immediately.
The tension eased just enough for the conversation to continue.
But Husk knew...
He had only bought himself time.
Alastor was still staring at him.
The old cat had lived long enough to recognize exactly when it was best to keep his damn mouth shut.
And this...
Was definitely one of those times.
He also knew there were some secrets better carried beyond the grave.
And some people's business...
Was better left alone.
Still...
If Husk had been free to speak...
He probably would've admitted that only one of the grooms seemed genuinely excited about the wedding.
Alastor remained standing near the front doors.
He let out a slow sigh.
Whether it was born of exhaustion...
Or frustration...
Even he wasn't entirely sure.
What he did know...
Was that he had absolutely no desire to stay there another second.
Without another word, he allowed the darkness at his feet to swallow him whole.
The shadows wrapped around his body like liquid ink.
Snap.
He vanished.
Only to reappear inside his private suite at the hotel.
"Impudent cat..."
His jaw clenched so tightly it nearly cracked.
"Impudent shadow..."
"...Idiotic king..."
"Everyone in this damned hotel is an idiot."
Alastor strode toward the small liquor cabinet tucked into one corner of the room.
He retrieved a crystal tumbler.
Then opened a silver ice bucket and reached for a bottle of rye whiskey.
The amber liquid poured smoothly into the glass.
For a long moment...
He simply stared at it.
Then, without another thought...
He downed the entire drink in a single swallow.
Warmth immediately spread through his chest.
Pleasant.
Comforting.
Not enough.
He poured another.
Then another.
Another.
And another.
Until finally...
He gave up on the glass altogether.
Taking the entire bottle with him, he walked over to the sofa.
He loosened his bow tie.
Slipped off his crimson coat.
Rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows.
Dropped heavily onto the couch...
And took another long pull straight from the bottle.
He knew this wouldn't make him forget the way he wanted.
But...
It was something.
"My own shadow decides to disobey me in front of half the hotel..."
"Husk thinks he knows more than he should..."
"That mangy cat has the audacity to laugh in my face..."
"...and Lucifer..."
He stopped.
His expression hardened.
"...Lucifer."
He spat the name like poison, his fingers tightening around the neck of the bottle until his knuckles turned white.
The shadows filling the room stirred uneasily around his feet, spreading across the floor like living ink, echoing an anger he stubbornly refused to unleash completely.
<That damned dwarf... That useless excuse for a king... If only I could wrap my hands around his throat... If only I could tell him just how utterly disgusted I am by him... Every single time he touches me... Every time he kisses me... Satan... I can't believe I have to endure this farce just to obtain the power I deserve. And the worst part... The wedding night is getting closer. HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO SHARE A BED WITH SOMEONE I FEEL ABSOLUTELY NOTHING FOR?! The mere thought made his stomach churn. Just imagining us together... Makes me sick>
He dragged a hand over his face, pressing hard against the bridge of his nose.
Ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
The wedding was less than twenty-four hours away.
His insufferable shadow had chosen now of all times to rebel.
He couldn't afford for anything to go wrong tomorrow.
Not with half of Hell's most influential figures attending.
He couldn't allow mistakes.
He couldn't let his revulsion get the better of him.
He couldn't let any of this defeat him.
He couldn't let the memories consume him.
He couldn't let his true feelings surface.
He couldn't allow his shadow's sentimentality to infect him.
He couldn't allow the Vees to ruin everything tomorrow.
He couldn't let Vox—
...
Vox...?
<Damn you, you idiotic television...>
...
Hah...Vox...
<...Why did you have to walk into my miserable life...? Why did you have to meet me? Why did you do that... that night? Why did you say those things...? Why...? Why...? Why did you ruin... everything...? Why the hell did I let you...? Why did seeing you standing beside that damned cannon all those years ago affect me so much...? Why is my shadow still thinking about you...? Why can't I forget you...?>
He took another drink straight from the bottle.
<It's been years... Years since I've seen you. I don't know anything about you anymore. I could walk into your territory whenever I pleased... But you stopped following me a long time ago. These days... I can barely even sense your frequency. That damned moth of yours... And that little doll you took in like some abandoned stray... They're the face of your company now. They've been attending the Overlords' meetings in your place... But you... Vox... I know nothing about you anymore>
<...Did you walk away?>
He lifted the bottle again.
<...Have you found another life?>
Another.
<...Are you still with that moth whore?>
The thought alone made his grip tighten around the bottle he drank twice as much this time.
<Or perhaps... ...Do you still think about me?>
For the first time that evening...
Alastor allowed his eyes to close.
He tipped the bottle back once more, letting the warmth of the amber liquor spread through him.
He wasn't drunk.
Not yet.
Of course not.
But his thoughts...
They were beginning to loosen.
To wander.
<If I could simply surrender... Lose myself in an ocean of whiskey inside this room... Listening to soft jazz... Stretching out on this very sofa... If I had the whole night to drink until the alcohol swallowed me whole... Only to wake up in the land of memories... I'd think of no one but you... Vincent. Without the slightest shame. I swear I would... That damned kiss yesterday... It was... The hottest... Most intoxicating... Most passionate... Sweetest kiss I've ever experienced... ...But it wasn't you. It was... Lucifer. And the fact that he's the one who's been kissing me... Fills me with disgust. But yesterday... God... I'd give anything... Just to try...To kiss you for real>
Without even realizing what he was doing...
His right hand gently traced the rim of the whiskey bottle.
Moments later...
His left hand slowly rose...
Until trembling fingertips brushed against his own lips.
<...When did we end up like this?... When did we drift this far apart?... When did it become so unbearably painful...?>
...
The memory struck him like lightning.
That night.
That bar.
And the words he'd spoken without thinking.
You’re Inspiring. Really
Me and you, we could rule hell … together as partners…
I KNEW YOU COULD BE PATHETIC AT TIMES, BUT I DIDN'T REALIZE YOU WERE SO WEAK.
I am quite disappointed in you.
I... I just thought... since we're... friends...
"FRIENDS?!"
"THERE ARE NO FRIENDS IN HELL, VINCENT."
"I THOUGHT THAT WAS SOMETHING YOU UNDERSTOOD."
How embarrassing.
...
<...Right>
Silence.
His thoughts simply...
Stopped.
He could still feel the bottle resting between his fingers.
Then...
Something wet brushed against the corner of his eye.
Alastor's eyes flew open.
The whiskey bottle slipped from his hand, splashing amber liquor across the carpet.
He didn't even notice.
His gaze darted toward the nearby mirror.
And he saw them.
...
Tears...?
...
Since when...?
He hadn't even felt them forming.
And besides...
...
How long had it been since he'd cried?
Why now...?
His gaze slowly shifted toward the figure standing beside the mirror.
His punishment...
Was waiting for him there.
His shadow.
Watching him.
But this time...
It wasn't smiling.
There was no mockery.
Only an unbearable mixture of anger...
Sadness...
Disappointment...
A loneliness so profound it seemed capable of swallowing the entire room...
And something dangerously close to reproach.
Alastor felt a knot tighten painfully in his chest.
He forced it back down.
"W-What...?"
His voice came out thick, roughened by the whiskey.
"...What the fuck are you looking at?"
The creature said nothing.
It merely stared back with that same hollow expression.
Not the emptiness Alastor was used to seeing.
Something worse.
Something... Painfully human
"Don't look at me like that..."
His voice was barely above a whisper.
"...Don't."
The shadow slowly tilted its head to one side, its neck twisting at an unnatural angle.
It continued staring directly into Alastor's eyes.
That emptiness...
No.
Not emptiness anymore.
There was too much emotion in it now.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake..."
Alastor pushed himself off the sofa and bent down to retrieve the whiskey bottle from the floor.
"You stand there looking at me like that..."
He turned to face the creature again.
"...as though I'm the villain in this story."
A bitter laugh escaped him.
"Well, let me tell you something."
He tightened his grip around the bottle.
"WE'RE IN HELL!"
His voice suddenly exploded through the room.
"NO ONE DOWN HERE DOES ANYTHING OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF THEIR HEART WITHOUT EXPECTING SOMETHING IN RETURN!"
The bottle groaned beneath the pressure of his fingers.
"SO WHY THE HELL IS EVERYONE LOOKING AT ME AS IF I'M THE MONSTER?!"
His laugh returned.
Dry.
Humorless.
Almost broken.
"Every last one of us ended up down here for a damn reason."
"And now...all of a sudden..."
"I'm the one everybody hates?"
He let out another hollow chuckle.
"Give me a break."
The shadows throughout the room trembled violently, shivering across the walls like living frost in response to his fury.
And yet...
Alastor's gaze drifted away from his shadow.
Toward the mirror.
Toward himself.
His hair had become slightly disheveled.
His dress shirt hung partially open.
His right hand clutched the whiskey bottle so tightly his fingers had begun to shake.
His left hand had curled into a fist against his own palm.
"...Vincent needed to learn a lesson that day."
His voice hardened again as he stared at his reflection.
"I...gave him the push he needed to become what he is."
"I...was the one who guided every step he took."
"I...was the one who gave him power!"
His voice echoed throughout the suite.
"I MADE HIM AN OVERLORD!"
"HE DIDN'T DO A DAMN THING!"
<No...>
The voice wasn't spoken aloud.
It came from somewhere inside him.
His own mind.
<He became what he is....after you abandoned him>
Alastor's chest tightened.
"...No."
<You turned your back on him>
His breathing became uneven.
"Shut up."
<You left him all alone>
The room began to vibrate.
The shadows coating the walls stirred restlessly, as though the hotel itself could feel a storm about to break.
"I said...shut up..."
<You rejected him>
His body slowly began to grow.
His antlers stretched upward until they scraped against the ceiling.
The dials within his eyes spun faster and faster, accompanied by an increasingly shrill mechanical whine.
<You made him hate you>
"ENOUGH!"
The roar shook every window in the room.
He glanced toward his shadow.
And his rage intensified.
That damned thing...
Was still standing there.
It hadn't moved.
It remained beside the shattered reflection, watching him with that unbearable mixture of sorrow...
Disappointment...
And...
Compassion.
...
Compassion?
A shiver raced down Alastor's spine.
He would've preferred hatred.
Contempt.
Anything...
Anything but pity.
His breathing faltered.
<You're furious...with yourself>
"...No..."
<Because you know...all he wanted...was to keep being your friend>
Alastor's hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
"NO!"
<And you turned that friendship....into the worst memory of his life>
His fingers tightened around the whiskey bottle until the glass groaned under the pressure.
Tiny cracks spread across its surface.
<You taught him....that there were no such things as friends in Hell>
A pause.
One that seemed to stretch forever.
Then...
The final blow.
<...And only afterward... did you realize... that he was the only person... you had ever truly loved>
The world fell silent.
Even the shadows stopped moving.
<You broke his heart...and yours shattered the very same day>
"SHUT UUUUP!!"
It wasn't a scream.
It was the roar of a wounded sinner.
The walls of the hotel quaked.
Every window rattled violently.
The shadows fled toward every corner of the room like frightened animals.
With a movement driven by pure rage, Alastor hurled the whiskey bottle with all his strength.
CRASH!
The bottle struck the mirror dead center.
Glass exploded across the room.
Thousands of glittering shards scattered over the floor.
The last of the whiskey splashed across the broken pieces, soaking the carpet like spilled blood.
Then...
Silence.
An unbearable silence.
Alastor stood frozen.
Breathing heavily.
His eyes slowly lowered toward the countless fragments spread across the floor.
Each shard reflected a different version of his face.
Hundreds...
Hundreds of Alastors.
Every single one of them stared back at him...
Like he was a monster.
For one fleeting moment...
He felt relief.
He thought...
Just for an instant...
That he had finally destroyed that unbearable gaze.
Then he looked up.
His shadow...
Was still there.
Standing in the exact same place.
Only now...
The mirror was gone.
The sadness remained.
The silent reproach remained.
Everything remained.
...
<How the hell do you destroy... something that's inside you?>