Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the first time in eons, Hell was silent.

Gone were the terrified screams, maniacal laughter, and rapid footfalls. Gone were the static of televisions, the crackling of radios, and the crunch of blades thrust through flesh. Gone were the hushed whispers, the flowing conversations, and the deafening lustful moans.

Even the Radio Demon had gone silent.

Vaggie didn’t think she would ever miss the noise of Hell. Just the thought of waking up to gaze at Charlie’s sleeping face in utter silence was nothing but a fleeting dream. And yet, that’s exactly what she did this very morning.

And she hated every second of it.

No one in the hotel was sure what had happened. Three weeks ago, everything was normal. Charlie was demonstrating to the latest group of wannabe redeemers the complicated ins and outs of Trust Falls. As usual, she called Vaggie to help her demonstrate, because of course she would. And of course, Vaggie would get up off her ass and hold out her arms because any excuse to hold Charlie was an excuse she was more than willing to take. 

“First, you’ll want to get up here and share something vulnerable with the group!” Charlie said cheerfully. “Like… sometimes when I can’t sleep, I count the number of ducks my dad sent me over the last week until I do!”

Yes, Vaggie thought. And she never let her dear, patient, loving girlfriend sleep until every single duck was tucked into a mini bed and kissed goodnight. 

“And now that I’m done sharing, I’m going to turn around annnnnd…”

As usual, she did just that, rocking backwards on her heels to warn Vaggie she was coming. As usual, Vaggie held out her arms, ready to catch her demonic other half and hold her close for just a second too long. As usual, Charlie placed her hands over her heart and shifted her weight backwards. And now she was falling, falling, falling…

Too fast. Vaggie practically had to run forward to catch Charlie before she hit the ground. And damn, she was heavy. Too heavy. And cold to the touch.

Panic rose like bile in Vaggie’s throat as she looked at her girlfriend’s face, searching for any sign of something wrong. That was foolish - everything was wrong. Charlie’s face was completely frozen, the ghost of her last smile etched on her face. Her skin had turned stark white, rosy cheeks so bright they were essentially painted on. When she tried to brush the Princess of Hell’s bangs away from her face, she was met with cold, unyielding stone.

She had screamed Charlie’s name then, loud enough to shatter the glass Husk had spent the last six hours polishing plus every bottle behind him. Angel had to use all six arms to plug his ears. Niffty had ripped the feathers off her feather duster and stuffed them in her ears, single eye twitching all the while.

She didn’t know how long it took for them to come down - perhaps seconds, minutes, maybe a few millennia. But eventually, the crackling of radio static filled the lobby, bringing along with it a harsh gust from six spread wings. The former Exorcist knelt there, crouching low over Charlie’s still form as she sobbed, barely registering the two sets of rapid footsteps approaching her from either side of the room.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Alastor’s voice was lower than usual, barely audible over the heavy static surrounding him. “Don’t tell me that there was some mistrust in this fall.”

“What happened!?” Lucifer’s voice was higher pitched than normal, worry dripping from every word. “Tell me Charlie’s okay!”

Vaggie said nothing. How could she? The words died in her throat as soon as she thought of them. All she could do was lean back slightly and show them Charlie’s cold, blank face.

The changes were grotesque. Lucifer’s eyes immediately changed from gold to red, round pupils turning into slits. Long red horns grew from under his hat, which tilted precariously in response, the apple nearly ready to off it. His teeth sharpened, mouth pulled back into a snarl. For his part, Alastor’s smile widened even more, so much that it practically split his face in half. Black swallowed the reds of his eyes, and a large pair of black antlers sprouted from beneath his hair. For a moment, the two demons were silent, only able to stare at the Princess of Hell’s still face.

Lucifer was the first to break it. “You!” He raised one red claw and jabbed it into Alastor’s chest. His voice split into thousands. “This is your fault, isn’t it!? What the fuck did you do!?”

If it was at all possible, Alastor’s smile spread even more, brows furrowing as fire flared up in his eyes. When he spoke, the static was so loud everyone had to strain to hear him. “I have no idea what you’re trying to imply, sire. I assure you, this has nothing to do with me.” One clawed hand reached up and pressed its palm into Lucifer’s claw. “But perhaps it has something to do with poor management around these parts. Perhaps you can shed some light on that, my little lord?”

“Why you motherfuck-“

It really, really shouldn’t be that easy to knock out two of the most powerful demons in all of Hell. On any other day, Vaggie would have called it absolutely stupid for Angel and Husk to do what they did next. But this wasn’t a normal day at all. So what those two had stashed divine weapons behind the bar? And so what they used the non-pointy parts of said divine weapons to serve some well-deserved smacks to the two demons’ heads before they could rip each other’s off? 

Yeah, sure, Lucifer was probably going to wake up absolutely pissed. And God knows what Alastor’s going to do once he came to. But none of that mattered. Because as far as Vaggie knew, her head was worth nothing to her if Charlie wasn’t around to fill it with silly songs and even sillier dreams.

This was by far the worst fucking day in Hell.

Lucifer called it a destiny written in Scripture. It was an ancient sort of sorcery, a deed so powerful that few angels even knew of its existence, let alone how to bring it about. Unlike the silly little prophecies and such that humans could use their free will to help break, Scripture was completely unbreakable. Once written, not even God himself could bend it. It would take either writing an alternate Scripture to alter the victim's destiny or slaying the seraph who wrote it.

“Whoever did this to her had to convince the entire Council of Seraphim to carry it out,” Lucifer slurred. He downed his fourth? fifth? bourbon as he spoke. “They had to come up with a reason. Like, a really, really, really good reason. And then paid an extremely high price to target her specifically.”

Alastor swilled his Sazerac around its glass, a gentle buzz already having settled over his mind. Despite the pleasant hum in his ears, the tightness in his chest refused to go away. It was as though Rosie had placed a corset on him and tightened it so much his insides were about to spill out both ways. This strange, constricting feeling had been there from the moment he saw Charlie’s cold, still form lying on the floor and only worsened with each hour that passed without her laughter lighting up every room of the hotel. 

Stranger still, this feeling was accompanied by a sharp, stabbing pain right over the left side of his chest whenever he looked in her father’s direction. The King of Hell was alternating between downing whiskey and toying with the apple and snake decoration on his hat. The fire in his golden eyes had sputtered out, the bags underneath them heavy and raw. No amount of petty barbs or insults would get him to sputter and snarl in that rather pathetic yet strangely cute way of his while he was in this state.

(Not that Alastor found Charlie’s pathetic excuse of a father cute, of course.)

“So if I’m correct, one of those pompous pigeons up there took offense to something some sinner or demon down here did and decided to write in Scripture that our pretty princess would turn into a porcelain doll during a Trust Falls exercise?” Alastor asked. The buzz in his head was rather quickly transforming into white noise the more Sazerac he downed. It was a good thing Husk always kept his glass full, as he was doing now. “I must say, this level of pettiness is something only those feather-brains can think of.”

“So if that’s true, all we gotta do is find whoever pissed them off and like throw them into the sky or some shit, right?” Angel said. Husk had somehow managed to find enough non-alcoholic spirits to build a six-tier pyramid of shot glasses which the spider demon was now downing in quick succession. “They’re happy to have their new little bitch toy and we get our boss bitch back. Win-win!”

A cough and a sputter sounded from the other end of the bar. Lucifer stood, one fist over his mouth to catch his cough, the other pounding his chest. Almost reflexively, Alastor released a shadowy tendril to thump the King of Hell on his back, causing him to cough up the rest of the bourbon he had accidentally inhaled. Huh, weird. He should’ve just let the silly serpent cough a lung out.

“Only I can call CharChar a bitch, bitch!” Lucifer slurred as the rich brown liquid dripped from one side of his mouth. “Or I’ll… um… er… shit. Someone get me another drink and off of the LuLu Coaster…”

Lucifer swayed forward with one hand braced against the bar, the other attempt to find purchase with his stool. Alastor’s grin widened in amusement as the diminutive demon somehow missed the stool completely and ended up on the floor instead. His hand slipped off the bar, knocking that ridiculous top hat off and causing it to roll away. Rather than doing literally anything to get their monarch off the floor, Husk only shook his head and reached for Lucifer’s glass.

“Yeah, no, I’m gonna be responsible for once and cut you off,” the cat demon downed the remains of Lucifer’s glass plus the rest of the bottle of bourbon. “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

Vaggie let out a small grown as she rubbed her temples. “So where would we even start finding out who pissed them off? There’s a trillion sinners down here and the stuff one Deadly Sin alone can do is enough to make any of those guys up there clutch their pearls.”

“This is way beyond just pearl clutching,” Husk said. “From what King Drunkenstar down there said, they had to get every member of the highest level of angel up there to agree to it. And then they had to pay some sort of price, which I’m guessing is some metaphorical bullshit about giving up what you love the most or whatever.”

“Do angels love?” Angel asked.

“Uh, have you read a Bible in your lifetime?” Husk asked.

“Depends. Does doing the juicy part it in a sexy nun outfit count?”

“Why did I even ask?”

This entire conversation was starting to give Alastor a headache, and not the good kind that involved too much alcohol and a late night deep in the bayou on a humid night. He tapped his fingers on the bar, mulling the information over in his head. What could they do to narrow every sinner and sin in Hell down to the possible candidates that pissed the angels off? It was hardly as though they had the power to do that, even with Lucifer at their side. What was more, they had absolutely zero idea what possible crime would drive one of those birdbrains to demand the dollification of the Princess of Hell herself. It was at best a political disaster and at worse an outright declaration of war. They were lucky that Lucifer had been reduced to a sniveling rubber duck enthusiast in the years between his and Lilith’s separation and now. Had the man been in his prime, Alastor had zero doubts that the angelic demon would’ve happily razed Heaven and Earth to the ground to change his daughter back.

And Alastor… oh, Alastor would have loved to be part of that razing. To watch as those toga-wearing turkeys ran, flew, and pleaded all to avoid the cloven heel of Alastor’s boot. To watch skin curdle, feathers curl, and eyeballs boil as Hellfire seeped from below their glowing little city. To feel the beautiful, golden flesh melt between his teeth as he feasted on victim after victim while they were still screaming and crying and alive. It was a symphony that would have been more beautiful than any amount of overlord screams Alastor could play over his radio.

A warm touch at his forearm snapped Alastor from his fantasies. He looked down at its source, watching in slight bemusement as the King of Hell unsteadily rose to his feet, gripping onto Alastor’s arm for support. The pleasant white noise in the Radio Demon’s ears grew just a bit louder.

“We gotta ask,” Lucifer said in a shaking voice, interrupting a truly riveting conversation about King Solomon and the size of his junk. “No way around it. Nope, nuh-uh, noooooo sir! Gotta march up there and demand to see their manager!”

The alcohol was heavy in Lucifer’s breath. But so was another scent. It was some sort of familiar floral one, one that he hadn’t smelled in a long, long time. The name danced on the edge of Alastor’s tongue, just out of reach. Fuck. This was going to bother him for a while.

“So… how many Karens should we bring with us?” Angel asked. He was now done with his pyramid of shots and had traded those for a Blue Ribbon. Disgusting. “I’m pretty sure we have like all of them down here, right?”

Lucifer shook his head a bit too wildly, causing him to start swaying once again. His words were so slurred they were barely audible now. “No. No Karens. Gotta appeal before Heaven’s court and shit. Fuck. Dunno if we can win.” A pause. “I mean, I invented law schools. And tuition. And tuition hikes. Fuck it, I’m the original lawyer. I’ll just fucking go.”

“I’ll go too,” Vaggie declared. “She’s my girlfriend and I have wing bones to pick with those assholes!”

“Good luck with that,” Husk said. “I’m gonna stay right here and take a shot for every time they quote from the Bible or mention their greatness. I’m expecting to be absolutely floored after opening arguments. Plus, someone’s gotta be here to make sure Niffty doesn’t literally scrub Hell looking for whoever did this to Charlie.” He paused. “Where is that girl anyways?”

“Mm… count me out too,” Angel said. “Love Charlie, don’t love angels. Besides, I’m pretty sure my mere presence up there would piss them off a lot and I wanna give our boss bitch the best fighting chance she can have.”

“What did I say about my bitches you…” and once again, the devil went down south but this time, he landed in Louisiana. Or more specifically, a Louisianan’s lap. From the light snores now emanating from their king, there was no doubt to the residents of the Hazbin Hotel that there would be no more Lucifer complaining about bitches tonight.

The noise was even louder now, the frequencies shifting rapidly from quiet white noise to a torrential downpour of static. That constricting squeeze, that stabbing pain in his chest. It was all back now, only worse than before. Alastor’s pulse raced as he quickly put on his most dazzling smile, desperately hoping the flash of his yellowed teeth would blind the others long enough for them to not question the way he stood up, carrying the king like a snoozing bride.

“Well, I think that settles our scheming for tonight, don’t you?” his voice was distorted slightly by the static and rapid frequency changes. If he didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn Angel was raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow at them. “I’ll make sure that Tiny Tyrant Tipsy here makes it to bed without stripping his own flesh off his bones. Ta-ta!”

“Yeah, make sure that isn’t the only thing he’s stripping off!” Angel shouted as Alastor teleported away.

The apple-shaped outcropping of the hotel opposite from Alastor’s shining radio tower had long ago been set aside as Lucifer’s private suite. When the King of Hell wasn’t pacing the empty halls of his manor, sitting on the rides of LuLu land, or locked in his rubber duck workshop, he was helping Charlie in managing hotel affairs from his pretty little bedroom. Well, little was hardly truthful in describing the absolutely ridiculous six-bed, six-bath suite of rooms the man had set aside for himself, but Hell was full of liars anyways and Lucifer was the pampered prince of them all.

Speaking of the Prince of Lies, he was surprisingly light for someone who could shatter an Exorcist’s mask with a single punch. Then again, Alastor had always figured that angels had to have hallowed bones like birds in order to fly around and be all hoity-toity like that. Despite his fallen status, Lucifer seemed to be no different.

It was unfair that he was still so angelic looking despite the Fall, Alastor thought to himself as he crossed the laminated wood flooring of the inebriated king’s suite. If what rumor said was true, the only thing that had changed were the colors of Lucifer’s eyes. Otherwise, his features were still so very angelic, from the gold of his hair to the perfect porcelain of his toes. Even his very bone structure was angelic - wiry, thin, and delicate.

Lucifer turned towards his chest and mumbled something in his stupor. Alastor couldn’t quite make it out, as the downpour of static turned into a maelstrom at this moment, drowning out anything and everything. From reading the rose-petals lips, he saw the words “Charlie” and “ducks”. Perhaps even a “Lilith” and “fuck” in for good measure.

His chest grew tighter. It took everything he had not to deposit Lucifer right there on the floor and leave. Hell, he could do it. Baron Bourbon probably wouldn’t even remember tonight and wouldn’t think twice if he woke up on the floor. Alastor could even be nice enough to leave a very, very, very large bottle of Tylenol for him. After taking plenty of photos, of course, which would be spread around the hotel and plastered all over Hell.

Those lips were making noise again, but Alastor’s static was too loud to hear it. From their movement against the cloth of his jacket, something about a Bambi? He wasn’t really into Disney cartoons or whatever the diminutive king was into these days. He looked at the pearly white doors and hallways facing him. Which room was the bedroom again? 

It took him a few minutes to find the bedroom at the end of the hall. Like everything else in this damned realm, it was circus-themed with hand-painted animal murals on the wall and a starry tent covering the four-poster bed. Like every other little room in this suite, there were rubber ducks everywhere. Alastor nearly knocked over a few baskets of them on his way to the bed. California King-sized, of course, because this room wouldn’t be such a lovely place without it. The comforter and sheets were blood red with swirls of gold all over it. Dimly, Alastor noted that there was an apple motif going on with the bedding and… ducks? Seriously? The King of Hell was such a child.

Lucifer put up no resistance as he was laid into bed, as deft shadowy tendrils began quickly removing his boots and socks. He looked so vulnerable like this, so weak. Sort of like a baby bird, except he was one that would bite your head off if you were foolish enough to accidentally wake it up. Alastor could honestly probably stab him in the heart right now, bend down, lap up the golden ichor still flowing through the fallen angel’s veins, and walk away with nary a scratch. Perhaps with a few strands of hair as a little trophy to lord over Charlie’s father in one of their many future spars.

That is, if they would ever spar again. Because lately, the King of Hell was in absolutely no mood to spar the way they always had. And frankly, neither was Alastor. With Charlie’s beautiful smile gone, there was nothing for them to fight over. What was the point? It made him sick.

He was done taking off Lucifer’s boots and socks now. His tendrils folded them neatly on the nearby desk. Before the Radio Demon could slip away, that warm touch was back on his arm and he stilled, turning his head all the way around with loud cracks to smile down at the still-vulnerable rosy-cheeked king. He said something with hazy eyes, but Alastor couldn’t hear. His ears twitched slightly as he turned around and leaned down.

“My hat?” Lucifer murmured. That floral scent was back now. It punched him right in the nose like a rose, but there was something… different about it. It was sweet, yes, but also citrusy. And perhaps a little bit earthy. It tickled something in the back of his mind that had been locked away decades upon decades ago.

“Now whatever do you need your hat for, Your Majesty?” the Radio Demon asked, his smile widening while Lucifer’s brow furrowed. “I’m sure it’s a prized family heirloom, but let me assure you that it’s perfectly safe in my hotel. I’m positive you can pick it up from our lovely barkeep tomorrow… that is, if one of our guests hasn’t taken a bite out of it first!”

A snarl. “Fuck you. Need it.”

“Oh dear, I do hope you’re not cuddling it when you sleep. I’d almost rather see you cuddling a giant stuffed rubber duck instead.”

Those golden eyes were practically glowing. Desperation leaked from the little lord, so much that it caught the Radio Demon off guard. The hand on his arm tightened. 

“I’ll… ugh. Fuck. Deal. I’ll deal for it,” Lucifer said, burping and gagging slightly as he spoke. “Hat for duck. My favorite duck. It smells like you.” Another burp. “Deal?”

It was a truly pitiable sight indeed. One that Alastor happily seared into his core memories. Here was the King of Hell, reduced to a depressive drunken mess. Golden eyes were wide, searching his face, desperation dripping from his gaze. Rosy cheeks were splotchy and red, a product of too much bourbon passing between those lying little lips. Beautiful.

He sent his shadow to fetch the hat. As soon as it was in his hand, Lucifer reached in and pulled out a small rubber duck. This one was just a touch bigger than the others and sported a little monocle. The most remarkable thing about it though was the tiny flower sprouting from its tail end. It was a lovely orange thing with four large, silky petals on a long and thin stem. Its scent was barely there at all, but Alastor’s sensitive nose detected tiny notes of sweetness curling from it. Nothing like the smell coming from the figure on the bed. Lucifer’s smile softened a little at the sight of the duck, but he quickly schooled his features the moment he noticed the Radio Demon looking at him.

“What a cute little trinket,” Alastor remarked. The static had died down enough for him to finally listen. “What’s this little thing growing from it?”

Lucifer looked away. “Eschscholzia californica… California poppy. It’s illegal to pick those up there. Endangered now.”

Alastor’s grin widened even more as he began to stroke the poppy, careful not to damage any of its little petals. “Such a lovely face… this will make perfect kindling!”

Before Lucifer could say a word, Alastor teleported back to his room. For a brief moment, he considered the duck in his hand. Then, he shook his head and walked over to the little bayou he had created in his room. It wasn’t big enough to burn and besides, he liked the way he had furnished this room. It would cost him too much time to find new furnishings anyways. No, it could just be a silly little trinket swimming around his bayou. Better than a gator, he supposed. At least this thing wouldn’t need feeding.

Alastor turned towards his bed as the water carried the duck away from him, exchanging it for the rosy, citrusy, earthy scent of a newly bloomed magnolia tree.

Chapter Text

The Court of Heaven was just as cold and unwelcoming as Lucifer remembered. Sure, they had tried to warm it up with some extra gold accents, but it was the same damned color scheme it had been since Creation: white on gold on white on gold on white on gold on ugh.

Vaggie, seated on Lucifer’s right, seemed pretty peeved about it too. She kept shivering and rubbing her arms, single eyes darting from the notes on their table to the Cherubim and Thrones seated above. She was dressed to the nines today, looking like someone who had just graduated from Hell’s most prestigious law school, ready to take down whatever insurance company got in her way.

(In addition to being the OG lawyer, Lucifer was also the OG insurance adjuster.)

To his left sat Alastor, that ever-present smile spread wide. To be honest, it was quite the shock when the Radio Demon had volunteered to come with them. As seemed to be the trend in Hell, he had waited until the very moment they were about to go to declare that he was coming too. On any other day, Lucifer would have drowned him in a vat of applesauce before letting this sinner anywhere near his side of the courtroom. But then again, this was absolutely not a normal day.

As much as Lucifer hated to admit it, Alastor had cleaned up nicely today. Gone was the tattered overcoat and untamed mess of red hair, traded instead for a brand new red suit and slicked back locks. He sat tall and cross-legged in his chair, long fingers tapping the head of his cane. Red eyes darted back and forth between the numerous angels assembled in front of them.

The Seraphim hadn’t arrived yet, which was annoying as fuck. Father had never really been much for punctuality, and it seemed that those habits had been passed on to his children. The pit in Lucifer’s stomach only widened as he stared at the empty seats on the highest portion of the angels’ table. He needed something, anything to occupy himself before he started ripping those chicken feathers out of his siblings’ wings.

“Fidgety today, aren’t we sir?”

Lucifer whipped his head so fast in Alastor’s direction that he was no doubt going to get a crick in the neck later. The Radio Demon’s gaze was no longer directed at the assembled angels. The longer Lucifer looked at him, the stranger his stomach felt. The pit was still there, of course, but now there was something filling it. Fire was dancing in its center, the tips of the flames twisting and licking at the sides of the pit. He didn’t know what it was that caused it. Alastor’s eyes were fiery, yes, but lots of people had fiery eyes. There was a power behind them, one of ancient empires and torrential seas. Here before him was a rebel playing nice, a bloodthirsty prey animal who had risen before its predators and said that enough was enough. It took everything in him to repress the shiver that threatened to run down his spine. No. He would not give in today.

(For after all, Lucifer was the original rebel.)

Thankfully, Alastor’s gaze flicked upwards from his eyes to his head. Or to be more exact, the crown that sat atop it. This was one of the extremely rare occasions that Lucifer detached his crown from his top hat and wore it alone on his head. The snake and apple still adorned it. Lucifer had spent all morning polishing them to a blinding shine.

“I see that you left your little security blanket at home. That’s a shame,” the Radio Demon tilted his head. “I figured you’d want to bring that silly hat of yours everywhere so you wouldn’t feel so small and scared.”

Lucifer scowled. Why did he let this asshole come with them again? “It was never about the hat.”

Alastor’s eyes widened at that, mirth flitting through them. He bent low until his mouth was level with Lucifer’s ear. “Ah! I should’ve known. A king is nothing without his crown, hm? You have to remind everybody who’s really in charge here.”

The fallen angel bristled at the other’s words. His fingers flexed, sorely tempted to grab the Radio Demon by his red lapels to pull him close and… yell at him. Yes. Definitely yell at him. Throw a couple barbs of his own. Nevermind the warmth of Alastor’s breath gently cradling his ear, or the mildly sweet scent of California poppy dancing around the Radio Demon’s words. No, actually, it was better that he sat back and let the words wash off of him, like water off a duck’s back. If absolutely nothing else, Lucifer at least still had his pride and he wasn’t going to let the sinner before him get under his skin.

The loud blare of trumpets snapped Lucifer from his thoughts. Before he could blink, Alastor was back in his seat, hands neatly folded in front of him like he wasn’t just heckling the King of Hell. Vaggie cleared her throat and sat straighter as well, looking up to try to catch a glimpse of the source of the music. From the holy heavenly light above flew numerous figures, each borne on three pairs of wings. 

Lucifer followed each of them carefully, trying to pick out who was who among his former brethren. He didn’t recognize any of them. Actually, he couldn’t even tell the differences between the seraphim. They were all just a bunch of blobby white figures with six wings and eyes everywhere. Must be more holy divine whatever disguising the seraphim so Lucifer couldn’t try to appeal to their old relationships with him or something stupid like that. Typical. And wait, why were there only six of them?

“We the Seraphim of the Highest Court of Heaven hereby bring this hearing to order,” one of the blobby white figures intoned. Even their voices were distorted. “Fallen One, you may speak.”

Lucifer stood, squinting at the angels before him. Stupid angels. Couldn’t they tell they were emitting too much light? It was like he was being forced to stare at oncoming traffic with fog lights on. “Mikey? Is that you? Dude, how are you-“

“We do not speak of you, O Deposed Son of Dawn,” the leftmost blob said. “Sit, else you shall be smited. We speak of the Fallen One. She who was once an Exorcist, highest of all.”

That had to be Uriel. Lucifer saw red. He had half a mind to fly up there and give that pompous asshole a wedgie. Before he could spread his wings, however, a cool hand gripped his elbow and yanked him down. The Radio Demon’s smile was plastered on now, his eyes flickering dangerously like dials.

“My lord, you might want to tuck those horns away.”

Oh. He didn’t even notice. His pulse was racing too. Right, he had to breathe. He had to breathe and calm down. This was for Charlie, after all. Turning to Vaggie, he nodded as he inhaled slowly, willing the blood red horns to melt away.

Vaggie cleared her throat. “Erm… my divine ones. We come before you humbled at your… er… brightness? Yeah. To ask that you consider re-examining SD#024-60-510.”

“You speak of the newest destiny written in Scripture,” second-to-the-rightmost blob said. Lucifer furrowed his brow. He couldn’t tell who that was if he tried. “That which involves the Spawn of the Serpent of Old.”

She nodded. “I do. We… I…” she swallowed. “We come to ask that you consider rewriting her destiny and casting it in Scripture. She’s transformed into a doll and-“

“It is as ordained,” left-middle blob said. “The Spawn of Hell shall be as stone upon taking pride in the trust it has for she who is most precious to it.” The blob seemed to turn towards Lucifer, millions of eyes glaring in his direction. “For pride is what begot the Prince of Darkness’ Fall and in his arrogance was sin born.”

Lucifer opened his mouth at those words, but only a quiet creak came out. This was his fault, wasn’t it? His was the Sin of Pride, after all. The first one. And Charlie turned to stone after feeling it. His chest tightened at the thought. He had promised to protect Charlie from everything. Heaven, Hell, Earth… he would raze it all to the ground if it meant keeping his daughter safe. But how could he protect Charlie from the very sin that ran through his veins? 

A touch on his left shoulder this time. Immediately, all of the tension flowed out of him and he found himself almost leaning into the touch. He had to keep it together. He couldn’t just freak out now. This was all for Charlie’s sake. There was a soothing tune being played, so quiet that only he and the demon playing the tune could hear. Dimly, Lucifer caught the familiar notes of Saint-Saëns’ The Swan…

“But plenty of people feel pride for things and don’t get their destinies cast in Scripture!” Vaggie argued, setting her papers down. “And besides that, Charlie’s innocent! She’s spent all this time trying to improve Hell and redeem its sinners! She’s done nothing wrong!”

“You speak in ignorance, Fallen One,” said right-middle blob. “For the Spawn of Sin is guilty of the most heinous of crimes.” A pause. “For it was it that murdered the First Man.”

Fury seared through Lucifer at those words. Next to him, The Swan sputtered out, Alastor’s radio signal crackling dangerously as his eyes turned black. Lucifer stood, slamming his hand on the table.

“First off, fuck you RaRa, I know it’s you! Second, stop calling her an ‘it’! Her name is-“

“Charlie. Morningstar,” Alastor stood, shadows curdling around him in quiet, barely subdued fury. His smile was so wide now that it didn’t fit on his face. His ears were flattened against his head. He was twitching, his entire body shifting between reality and strange-looking glitches. Pitch black antlers grew from his skull. “And she didn’t come close to touching your idiotic Head Exorcist that day. The person you want…” And now the smile widened impossibly more, teeth sharpening and scratching his lip until scarlet blood flowed from his mouth. “Is me.”

Oh like Hell Lucifer was going to let the Radio Demon take all his credit. “Um, fuck you. I actually damaged the guy!”

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alastor turned his neck with several sickening cracks until he faced Lucifer. “I was actually ready for battle.”

Lucifer could feel the horns coming out of his head now. The flaming halo encircled them, casting a dark and dangerous shadow over the Radio Demon’s form. His six wings loomed menacingly. His tail flicked dangerously as he spoke, voice split into thousands. “I could have killed him and you without lifting my pinky toe if I-“

“GUYS! ENOUGH!” Vaggie snapped. She slammed the table with both hands. “It doesn’t matter who killed Adam, just that we know for a fact that Charlie was the one who wanted to spare him! She wanted to spare everyone! She wants to save people!”

“It matters not that the little bug sinner dealt the final blow,” rightmost blob said. “Nor does it matter whether The Adversary or He of Static Eyes inflicted harm. It only matters that the Spawn of The Beast was the leader of the army and thus must bear the faults of the soldiers it commanded.”

“You feather-brained, seed-chomping little shits!” Lucifer snarled. Six wings spread wide as he leaped on the table, Alastor’s static booming around him like thunder. “Where is Father!? Drag his sorry ass down here this instant or I’ll rub seven herbs and spices all over you and deep fry every single one of-“

“Enough!” second-from-the-right blob boomed. It grow taller somehow, as though the seraph behind it was standing. “We the Seraphim have heard enough and have thusly rendered our judgement. The Spawn of the Deceiver shall-“

A loud whine cut the blob short. It was high-pitched and scathing, like that of a microphone’s feedback. Taking a glance to his left, Lucifer watched silently as the writhing, otherworldly Radio Demon-shaped creature sporting Alastor’s Cheshire Cat grin rose to join him on the table. Alastor seemed to grow larger with every passing second, his limbs twisting and cracking in a million unnatural positions. Dials appeared in his eyes, swinging wildly. When he spoke, his voice glitched through a thousand filters.

“How… can you Seraphim render a judgement with only six of you here?” Alastor’s head tilted sharply, given him the air of a haunted doll. Again, Lucifer suppressed the shiver that wanted desperately to run down his spine. “Isn’t it written somewhere in your ridiculous list of rules that all seven must be present?”

There was a brief pause. Lucifer gnashed his teeth as the blobs simply stood there for a while, as though the angels they hid were looking at each other. Then, leftmost blob spoke.

“The sinner is correct. We shall call upon our seventh member and thus render our justice.”

It was at this moment the doors of the courtroom opened. Lucifer’s party whipped around to gaze upon this newcomer, teeth bared and eyes aflame. But the moment the creamy scent of lilies filled the room, Lucifer felt all of his demonic attributes melt away. The flaming pit in his stomach was emptied once again. Now it was filled with the ice cold of a tomb, an evil so ancient that even the devil himself had never so much as tasted it.

Lilith Morningstar was just as beautiful to him as the day she disappeared. Her tall, imposing figure glided into the room easily, hair flowing around her as though carried by a gentle breeze. Her imperial violet eyes scanned Lucifer’s table briefly, magenta-painted lips curling in disgust as she took in the one-eyed former Exorcist and the now distinctly less demonic looking Radio Demon flanking either side of him. Just as quickly as her gaze fell upon them, she looked away, choosing instead to float up to where the seraphim sat and taking the chair at the very center of their tier.

“And our seventh member has arrived,” second-to-the-left blob said. “We shall thus render our judme-“

“L-Lily?” Lucifer asked, not caring at all that he was interrupting one of his siblings. “Is… is that really you?”

Lilith stared down her nose at him, her lips tightening into a frown. Then, she diverted her gaze. What? Lucifer knew Lilith better than anyone else in the universe. Eons upon eons together had given him the rare ability to know her every thought simply through tiny tells in her voice or body language. But this? This cold, unspeaking thing was utter silence for him. She might as well have been a statue of the woman he once loved.

“Lil, what happened? What are you doing here?” he got off the table and began walking towards where his ex?-wife sat. “Look, if they’re keeping you hostage, just tell me. I can help you!”

Again, more silence. The ice-cold, empty pit in his stomach sank even lower. Acidic, foul-tasting bile rose in his throat. Pressure built behind his eyes.

“Lilith, what happened to Emily? She’s supposed to be the seventh seraph! She’s one of Charlie’s friends. Charlie? Our daughter?” Fuck, his voice was shaking. And his hands. And his knees. Everything was fucking shaking. “Lilypad, our daughter got Scriptured. They… They think she killed Adam. They’re punishing her because they think she killed Adam. But that isn’t true! I killed him! O-Or Alastor. Or Niffty. Hell killed him! The demons and sinners! But not her… she wanted to save him, just like she wants to save everyone else…” there was a crack in his voice now. He wanted to squash it. “Our baby girl… you’d be so proud of her… but she’s Scriptured…”

He was directly in front of the angels now, their divine light so near and so bright it nearly blinded him. But he didn’t care. The King of Hell’s gaze focused on the shape of the woman above him. The one he had spent eons serving and worshipping. The mother of his daughter. His knees were wobbling. No, they were collapsing. And Lucifer was going down, down, down…

“You know what being Scriptured means, don’t you, dearest?” he asked, his voice trembling like fine crystal. “S-Someone paid a price to turn her into a doll. A big price. B-But I’m here to change that. I’m here to save our baby g-“

“Enough, Tempter,” RaRa’s blob said. Or perhaps it was Gabe? “She knows well of the destiny written in Scripture… and the price she paid for it.”

What?

Golden eyes darted between Lilith’s statuesque form and the shapeless mass of holy light. Thoughts raced around his head. A price Lilith paid? Lilith was the one who asked for Charlie’s destiny to be set? Why? How? What could the former Queen of Hell possibly give to Heaven without actually being in Hell? It made no sense, unless-

The Scripture that involved the Spawn of the Serpent of Old…

The courtroom was absolutely silent now. Even Alastor’s radio static had vanished. Lucifer looked over his shoulder at his two companions, watching as Alastor’s grin dropped completely and Vaggie’s face twisted in some grotesque fusion of horror and fury. 

He looked back at his Lilith, the woman who was his soul mate, his everything, the love of his eternal life. He had fallen for her, ruled with her, dreamt alongside her. They were in love, weren’t they? They made Charlie together. Theirs was an eternal bond.

Lucifer’s ice-cold heart shattered. White hot tears began pouring down his cheeks. He dropped to his knees, his hands dropping uselessly to the floor. He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe-breathe-breathe…!

The scream he let out was truly inhuman. It shattered the windows around them, rocked the very foundations of Heaven. He lifted his hands to his hair, tangling them in strands of gold as red horns once again burst forth. His eyes alternated desperately between gold, red, and black. The ghostly remains of a shattered halo flickered to life at the very tips of his horns.

“You…!” he had finally found his voice, but it was splintered into a million pieces, his words gargled, tearful, and messy. There was no insult he could possibly say, no sharp barb or quip that would cut the demoness deep enough so she would know the utter depths of his despair. “You sold our daughter!? She was the price you paid!?” There were eyes everywhere on him: his coattails, wings, horns, face, all over his arms and legs and chest and-

His every fiber was screaming. It was as though a million red-hot pokers were stabbing him all at once. No, worse than that; it was like he was falling again. But now he was all alone. There was no beautiful love in his arms for him to hold this time. There was only the condescension of his former siblings, the knowledge that his dreams meant nothing to them or Father if it meant disturbing the careful order they so desperately protected. 

Well, if Charlie was the price to pay for order, then fuck all of them. Lucifer would more than happily rise up and tear every fiber of the universe into atoms. He would personally rip open every single angel’s throat with his teeth and feast upon their rotting flesh and bone until not a single feather was left to float down to Hell. He would grind all of Heaven up into a powder and feed it to his stone-cold daughter until the rosiness returned to her cheeks and she gazed upon him once again with more love than he ever deserved-

"You all understand what this means, don't you?" Lucifer asked. Lilith and the lights surrounding her didn't move. The maelstrom of static surrounding Lucifer's table roared, threatening to swallow Heaven whole. "ANSWER ME! Do you understand what this means, you c-"

Once again, his gaze was filled with red. Alastor had reverted back to his usual form, from the messy mop of red hair to the tattered tails of his coat. He stood in front of Lucifer but did not look at him; rather, he was staring up at the angels with a large grin and ice-cold eyes. Lilith raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow at the sight of him. Without missing a beat, Alastor swept into a graceful bow. He tapped the floor with his cane and Lucifer heard the familiar noises of a portal opening up behind him.

“Well my dear listeners, it seems like we’re nearing the end of the broadcast,” Alastor’s knife-sharp voice sliced through the silence of the courtroom easily. “My associates and I should be going. We have a war to prepare for, after all.”

It took both him and Vaggie to drag the King of Hell through the portal. Alastor himself barely avoided getting his head bitten off in the process. Vaggie, for her part, was trembling so much in both fury and sadness that she almost let her guard slip. Thankfully, Lucifer’s wrath had by then given way to utter despair. The moment those perfectly shined boots hit the laminated floors of the hotel, the King of Hell walked over to the couch where they had lain Charlie’s still form and sat down on a stool in front of it. And there he remained, keeping vigil over his daughter’s form while the rest of Hell readied for war.

It had been all too easy to find the king’s official stationary and seal. The wax sticks were a bit harder to find, but thankfully Niffty was able to scrape enough of it off various candlesticks and chandeliers to make them. Alastor even dusted off his old typewriter so that Vaggie could draft the letters - one for each of the Deadly Sins. 

Husk and Angel were assigned the task of notifying the various Overlords around Hell about what was to come. Sometimes, they would need to bring Alastor along with them as some of these foolish, power-hungry humans were much more interested in keeping their own power than preserving what Charlie had worked so hard to bring forth. Those silly little sinners met the grip of Alastor’s shadowy tendrils. Hell’s army didn’t need them anyways. And for days, the screams played over Alastor’s radio broadcast never ceased.

The Vees fell in line much quicker than Alastor had anticipated. Good. For all his idiocy, Vox at least knew when it was time to put rivalries aside… for a time. It likely helped that Valentino personally held the TV Demon down in his chair while Velvette, Angel, Vaggie, and Alastor came to an agreement about using the Vees’ communication network to help the war effort.  

All that was left now was Lucifer’s signature. It had been days since the Radio Demon had spoken to the King of Hell. The fallen angel had permanently taken up post next to Charlie’s body, silently refusing all meals and attempts at conversation. Not a single noise escaped him in the daytime. At night, when Alastor slithered out of his room to raid the kitchen for some leftover beignets or a po’ boy, he would sometimes hear tiny broken sobs emanating from the once-proud demon. More than once, he would strongly consider walking up to the man and his daughter - not to check up on them, of course. No, simply to revel in their despair. But it always made his chest hurt too much, just like how it was hurting now.

It was truly a pathetic sight. Lucifer had clearly lost weight. His hair had lost its shine and hung around his face like limp strands of seaweed. His rosy cheeks were little more than red blobs at this point. Alastor could only imagine the broken, empty look in his eye. In the distant past, he would’ve loved this. Oh yes, he would’ve savored the thought of the King of Hell being so broken, delighted in the very fact that even a being as powerful as Lucifer Morningstar could be shattered like a delicate china doll. He would’ve reveled and descended upon the fallen angel, consuming every last bit of despair like it was the finest aged wine.

But in this moment, staring at the man who once bust through the doors of the hotel to squeeze Charlie until her bones popped, who once played his famous golden fiddle so loudly it hurt the Radio Demon’s ears, who could more than hold his own against Alastor’s jabs and barbs… he decided that he hated this. He hated seeing Lucifer like this. He never wanted to see the man brought to this point again.

“Sire,” he said as he entered the room, his shadow looming over father and daughter’s still forms. His chest tightened once again. At this rate, his organs were going to fall right out of him. “The preparations for Pentagram City are nearly ready. We’ve yet to notify the Sins, however.” his grin widened. “I think you know what you need to do.”

“…”

Lucifer raised one hand and pointed at the seven letters that Alastor held up. Without opening his eyes, without saying a single word, he shot a single bolt of gold at them. For a brief moment, flames engulfed the letters completely, burning so hot that Alastor nearly dropped them. But just as quickly as it appeared the fire sputtered out, leaving behind the aggressive loops of Lucifer’s signature and seal.

Lucifer
Star of the Morning
Rex Daemonium

For the first time in eons, Hell was silent.

From the moment the Seven Deadly Sins were notified, all industry in Hell was diverted. No longer was punishing sinners the most important thing here. No, now it was to transform the realm into a smoothly oiled war machine.

Vaggie stared at the map in front of her that Asmodeus had so kindly provided for them. There were tiny ducks littered all over it, marking strategic positions, weapons caches, forts, and so many other things the denizens of Hell would need to defend their home. Niffty had raided these ducks from Lucifer’s rooms, the tiny bug demon deciding that these were much cuter additions to a wartime strategic board than any silly old pins. Each of them had been hand-painted by the King of Hell himself. Fuck, Charlie would’ve loved the fact they were using these.

Charlie. Vaggie hadn’t had the time to sit by her. To whisper to her all the updates and ask her to speak again. To hear her tell the former Exorcist that everything was going to be alright. That she was going to wake up soon and once again fill Hell with her song and laughter. Hell was silent because of her. Hell was silent without her.

“General,” an imp walked up to her, offering her a sealed envelope. “This is for you… I think?”

Veggie was the name written on the envelope. Probably another piece of junk mail. Vaggie was about to toss it over her shoulder when something out of the corner of her eye gave her pause. The dot over the eye was, in fact, not a dot at all. Rather, it was a crude drawing of an egg.

Hm.

“Thanks. You can go.”

The imp nodded and flitted away, no doubt to find literally anything else to do than play messenger. Vaggie turned her full attention to the envelope. It looked normal enough, if not a bit messily sealed. Taking a deep breath, she opened it, quickly scanning over the contents inside. It was a simple note, written in all-too-familiar serpentine script.

3 deys
Murdr medos
Tel Cherri i stil luv her

-P

Chapter Text

Three days wasn’t enough time. Alastor cursed himself for not pushing things more. Surely there was something he could’ve done. Intimidated the Overlords instead of trying diplomacy, perhaps. Or maybe just slew them all and taken over their territories. Yes, this was why he worked so well alone. If there was no one there to argue with you, then there was no one who could slow you down.

They were in the lobby now. Well, at least, the ones who kind of mattered were. Angel and Cherri Bomb were leaning against the staircase, surrounded by a cache of weapons. Cherri had for some reason folded up a piece of paper and tucked it away in her hair tie. Husk was polishing glasses behind the bar. Niffty was nervously stabbing the same cockroach over and over and over again. And Vaggie… Vaggie was pacing.

“Okay… so we know the plan, right?” this was the seventh time Vaggie was going over it. “W-We’ll send our front guard out there first. T-To hopefully buy us some time to ramp up Hell’s production. If they can just hold out for three days, then we’ll definitely be ready to at least hold on to the Greed Ring. We can’t let Mammon’s factories fall. Hopefully we managed to secure enough food from the Wrath Ring to help us hold out long enough. Now that Lucifer is letting Sinners move between rings, it makes things a bit easier… but also not. Way to many of them don’t wanna fight. I don’t blame them, but we need to reinforce the shelters. Fuck, I don’t have enough troops to do all of that and guard the elevators…” she bit her lip, running one hand through her hair. It was pulled up into a high ponytail today. “I mean, I can probably send just our most powerful members of the front line out there, but that’s so risky…”

Of course it was risky. This whole damn thing was risky. There was a more than 90% chance that Hell was going to cease to exist by the end of all of this, and here he was still trying to keep some semblance of it alive. For what end? The Princess of Hell was a doll. If the horrible demoness who placed that curse on her didn’t die today, then she was never going to wake up again. Charlie didn’t matter to him, did she? Not her, nor this hotel, nor all the stupid silly sinners, nor her stupid fucking dapper duck-obsessed little-

Alastor forced himself to inhale and closed his eyes. He could walk away right now. Step into the shadows and slide through it like a hot knife through butter. Find some place in a far-away corner of Hell to hide in until everything was over. Lilith and the rest of Heaven would spare him, of course. 

It was part of their deal. He needed to keep his afterlife and power, after all. in exchange, Lilith would just ask one itsy-bitsy little favor from him at a time of her choosing. It could be anything. She could ask him to stay out of battle. To become her guard dog. To turn his tendrils on his associates and tear them limb from limb. He could already see in his mind’s eye the cold look of indifference on her face when she would command him to turn. He would shred Husk’s wings, yank out Niffty’s eye, rip off Angel’s limbs one by one, stuff Vaggie’s own angelic spear down her throat, throw Charlie all the way down the deepest pit of Hell, and watch the golden spark in Lucifer’s eyes fade as he went limp in Alastor’s shadow tendrils because he refused to fight back…

“Alastor, we can do this,” Vaggie said, snapping the Radio Demon from his thoughts. He turned his head towards her, regarding her with a critical eye. His ever-present smile faltered just a smidge. Vaggie was doing everything she could to emulate Charlie, from the large optimistic smile on her face to the excitement flowing through her body. But despite all of this, her eyes remained dark. She wasn’t stupid, after all. She knew as well as everyone else that there was no way they would win. And Alastor knew even better that at any moment, Lilith would have him turn on Hell and slay every last one of them whether he wanted to or not.

(And of course he wanted to slay everyone and take power… eventually.)

His thoughts were probably showing on his face. Vaggie deflated quickly, shoulders slumping as she once again ran a hand through her silvery hair. “Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not Charlie. I’m nothing compared to her. This is fucking hopeless. Heaven got ready so much faster than us. Honestly, they were probably taking the last hundreds of years to get ready. This whole thing with Charlie was just an excuse to… I don’t know. Scripture our destiny into dying or becoming chicken feed for them or whatever. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.” 

Fuck indeed. Alastor played with the head of his staff, mulling over a different thought. There were only two ways to get out of a deal, really. One was, of course, fulfilling its terms fully. The other required the death of one of the dealmakers. There was absolutely no way Lilith would allow her trump card to die, of course. But perhaps if he could find a way to at least temporarily resist the deal, then that would buy him enough time to launch himself onto the end of an angelic weapon… and it would buy Vaggie enough time to regroup the army and find a way forward without him.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said suddenly, snapping Vaggie out of her mumbling. The former Exorcist looked at him like he had grown three heads. Well, actually, she probably sees him doing that at least once a week. “You share some of your angelic power with me. In exchange, I’ll go out alone and hold off those silly little doves long enough for you to take the rest of the front guard and think of a better strategy.”

“… The fuck?” Angel asked from his position leaning against the stair rail. “Listen, Strawberry Daddy, I know you’re super powerful and all, but even you aren’t strong enough to hold up against an entire army of those feather-brains.”

Cherri Bomb let out a small snort. “You barely held up against fucking Adam.”

Alastor’s smile widened. “That’s why I’m asking our dear general for some of her angelic power. It will make me strong enough to stand a lot stronger blows than what Adam was dishing out. On top of that, it’ll mean you’ll only lose one soldier, not hundreds. It's a win-win for everyone!”

Silence. Then, everyone began talking at once. Niffty burst into tears. Angel’s jaw dropped. Cherri started sputtering. Vaggie started ranting about how stupid of a proposition it was - what if her power wasn’t enough? What if they needed Alastor later? Who was going to be in charge of communications if the angels managed to take down the Vees’ network? 

Only Husk kept quiet, silently sipping a water bottle from his usual position behind the bar. He didn’t know the exact details of Alastor’s deal of course, but he knew it existed nonetheless. When he caught the other’s eye, the cat demon only raised an eyebrow. Well. It would seem that there was still absolutely no intention of revealing the fact that Alastor himself was chained to a deal. Good.

“Besides, I might be a fallen Exorcist, but I’m not that strong,” Vaggie protested. She was still on that rant? “My power will help a little but come on, it won’t do a thing against the Seraphim if they decide to show up! They’ll squash you like a bug. M-Maybe you can make a deal with like Asmodeus or Mammon or whatever instead? Wait, actually, not Mammon. But I’m positive one of the Sins would give you plenty of power-“

“You misunderstand, my dear,” Alastor said. His grin was a touch too wide. But he hoped it got the message across. “It isn’t more sin that I need. It’s divine power. And you’re one of only two beings here with that flowing through you. Believe me, if there was any other way, I’d take it so you wouldn’t need to worry about me at all. But there isn’t and those little dodo birds will be here any moment. So…” he reached his hand out to the army’s general, a hand wreathed in green flame. “Do we have a deal?”

Vaggie’s single eye lowered to stare at the hand before her. For a few moments, she was silent. Alastor waited patiently. She was a smart girl. She knew exactly what she needed to do. Then, slowly, she raised one hand and reached out towards him. Her expression steeled. Her form no longer trembled.

“Y-“

“No.”

Vaggie and Alastor froze at the sound of that voice, which hadn’t been heard since that cruel meeting in Heaven. Slowly, they turned to look at its source. Lucifer had moved from his vigil and was standing now, the bags under his eyes so dark they were nearly black against his snowy skin. His hat was back on his head too, the apple gleaming menacingly in Hell’s dim light. The rosiness in his cheeks had paled to a blush pink. He was much more gaunt now, more skeleton or emaciated doll than fallen angel. Yet his golden eyes flashed with a determination that Alastor had not seen in so long, and for some odd reason, something in his chest began to flutter and quake at the sight.

Lucifer, the most beautiful and cursed of all angels, turned his golden gaze towards Alastor with a large frown gracing his lips. “You need someone strong enough to power you up and break your own deal, don’t you? Then I’ll do it. Make a deal with me.”

It took everything the Radio Demon had in him not to drop his jaw in shock. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about the deal he made with the former Queen of Hell, save Husk. And even then, he didn’t know everything. That cat had been sworn to silence and wouldn’t dare go against Alastor’s orders. As though reading his mind, Lucifer smirked. There was a glint in his eye that promised something very dark… and very entertaining.

“I’m the originator of deals, Bambi. I could smell it on you the moment we met,” he stepped closer. “I’m guessing your terms say something about how you can’t talk about who you made it with and what’s part of it, right?”

Alastor didn’t need to answer. As soon as he opened his mouth, the invisible green chain around his neck flickered to life. The other denizens of the hotel gasped as the long, long, long chain snaked its way around the Radio Demon, seeking a master that was too far away. It was heavy. Lucifer let out a low whistle when it flickered its way out a window, snaked along the streets of Pentagram City, then began to float up and up and up-

“Well, guess I have half an idea now,” Lucifer said. “A bitch’s bitch. Who knew?” he turned to frown at Alastor. “We can’t have that. I don’t have any damn idea what she’s planning, but if she has you chained to her, then you’re gonna need a lot more than Exorcist power to break it.” He shot a glance Vaggie’s way. “No offense, kid.”

“None taken, sir,” Vaggie said. Her single eye darted between the two demon lords as she swallowed audibly. “But… are you sure you want to make a deal with him? I mean, you’re definitely strong enough to take down a bunch of angels, but even with your power I don’t know if Alastor can handle a whole army alone.”

“He’s not going alone,” Lucifer was nearly chest to chest with Alastor now. The noise of an old radio searching for a frequency filled the lobby. The smell of blooming magnolia’s curled around Alastor’s nose. “I’m going with him.”

“What!? Sir, that’s-“

“Our best option,” Lucifer said, glancing at the general over his shoulder. In the dim candlelight of the room, the sharp angles of his neck and collarbone were thrown into greater effect. It awakened a different sort of hunger in the Radio Demon, one that went beyond a mere need to suck the golden ichor from that delicate neck and the marrow from those perfect little bones. His claws were buzzing, pulse racing, chest heaving. Fuck, if he could just taste a little bit- “If both of us are out there, I can guarantee we’ll last for three days. Hell, I’ll throw in a fourth for free just cuz Charlie and I like you.” 

Another small noise of protest. “Then… Then let me go with you two. I can give command to Husk or Angel or Vox or any of the Sins. Maybe the three of us can-"

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, my dear,” Alastor said. He smiled at the former Exorcist easily from over Lucifer’s top hat. “You’re needed here. Someone’s got to protect Hell’s Princess, after all. Not to mention, if those little bird poop-for-brains manages to get through us, someone’s going to need to lead everyone else to safety.”

Lucifer by now had fully turned around and made his way over to Vaggie. He reached out pulled her into a tight hug. This wasn’t the hug he had greeted Charlie with when he burst through the hotel doors all those years ago, but it was just as desperate, from the way the King of Hell’s claws dug into Vaggie’s back to the subtle shake of his shoulders. It was the hug of a father with too much to say and not enough words to say them.

“Take care of my baby girl, Vaggie,” Lucifer’s voice wavered. “Please. You’re the best person who can.”

“Sir-“

“Dad. Father. Pop. Whatever you wanna call me. Call me any of those,” Lucifer was smiling now. It was unexpectedly beautiful. Suddenly, the scent of blooming magnolias strengthened, causing Alastor to shiver before he could catch himself. “You’re as good as family to me. It’s what Charlie would want.”

Vaggie’s bottom lip trembled. Then, she looked away, swiping at her eye. Lucifer watched her for just a moment more before he turned to the daughter-sized porcelain doll laying on the couch nearby. Charlie was still just as beautiful and bright as the day they lost her. Niffty had polished and cleaned her with utmost care every single morning since that horrible day. 

Lucifer placed one hand over the cold stone ones crossed over her heart. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers. For a few long moment, he simply sat there just like that. When he opened his eyes again, they were red. Similar colored horns grew from his skull. His long black tail flicked around him. The crown on his hat warped and twisted, transforming into a flaming serpentine halo. He was just as beautiful now as he always had been. But this was a cruel beauty, the kind that would make any lower demon tremble in fear.

Alastor was no lower demon, but he found himself floored all the same. Lucifer was absolutely letting out an otherworldly glow at this moment, throwing his sharp features into greater relief. For what seemed like the first time, the Radio Demon noticed all the tiny details about the King of Hell: the curl of his rose-petal lips, the flare of his nostrils, the wine stem-like shape of his bones. When Lucifer spoke, there was a gentle melody in his voice with strong echoes of tenor and bass.

“Hear me, for I am Lucifer, Star of the Morning, Father of Sin, Prince of Lies. I, the Great Serpent of Old, thus declare my wishes for my heir. In the event of my soul’s destruction, Charlotte Morningstar, Pride of my Pride, shall rise to my station and take her rightful place as Redeemer of the Sinful, Lady of Demons, and Queen of Hell.” Here, he paused, crimson gaze flickering to the small group of demons and single former angel gathered behind Husk’s bar. The still form of his daughter was glowing now, red energy flecked with sparks of gold swirling around her hands. “In the event she is unable to speak for herself, let it be known that the ones whom she loved most shall take up her voice in her stead: Vaggie, Bane of Angels. Husk, Dealer of the Cards of Fate. Anthony, Lover of All. Niffty, Slayer of Adam. Hear my wishes and know them.”

The swirling mess of red and gold shrank slowly. It settled down atop Charlie’s unmoving hands. After a few moments of hovering, it disappeared, as though blown away by a light gust. It left a small red pentagram in its place, seared into the back of Charlie’s stone hand. Lucifer paused for a few moments, watching as the pentagram flickered slightly, then disappeared. His demonic features retreated. 

When the King of Hell stood up, he dusted his trousers off. Then, he leaned down once more and pressed a kiss to his daughter’s forehead. “Wish me luck, kid. Daddy loves you so, so much.”

Lucifer straightened his back and cast a glance in Alastor’s direction, expression unreadable. Alastor raised an eyebrow an waited for a word, any word, to pass the fallen angel’s lips. Perhaps some cheesy one-liner about how he was ready now. Or one last insult for him before they died. But none of those things came. Instead, Lucifer just gestured to Charlie’s form and stepped away, walking towards the front doors of the hotel.

Ah.

Alastor approached the princess’ ice-cold body now and knelt before it, something he had never done before. He had never been one for silly declarations of love… or love in general, really. It was always such a non-necessity for him. Sure, he dabbled in love (or perhaps more accurately, making love) in his past life, but it just got so droll trying to find someone he could stand to hear talking for more than five seconds at a time, let alone someone he actually wanted to touch. And even then, it had always been a means to an end, usually one that involved clear eyes filled with fear rather than hazy ones filled with lust. The sex added absolutely nothing to his life. Neither did any sort of romantic love. And the love of a father for his child? The familial sort? Ha! Not even his own father had that to give him, that dirty little bastard.

But even he had to admit that there was something about the two remaining Morningstars that had awoken something in him he had never felt before. A sort of possessive want that was familiar to him, yet there was something else underneath it that easily separated it from the want he had felt before. It was such a strange feeling, this wanting. He wanted to see Charlie again. To hear her chatter endlessly about the dreams she held for the Hazbin Hotel and the sinners who walked through its doors. He wanted to watch her grow into the queen she was always meant to be. On top of that, he wanted to drag Lucifer’s beauty and fierce protectiveness into his wild embrace so no other creature in this universe would ever make him scream like that again.

He had no time to examine this feeling. And he had to say something to the statue of the girl before him. Everyone was watching, after all. And for once in his lifetime, Alastor did give two shits about what the others thought.

“… Your father and I are heading out now. I don’t know if or when we’ll be back. But if we don’t, then I hope you know that I have a lot to thank you for. Too much to name right now, so I’ll keep it short: thank you for being such a good listener. And do me a favor, hm? Always remember that you’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

Done. There was nothing more to say. Nothing he had time to say anyways.

“Alastor.”

The Radio Demon followed the King of Hell outside. There wasn’t time for anything else.

As expected, the walk outside the hotel was a silent one. If Lucifer was being honest with himself, he was actually half-hoping that the white noise of static would at least make things less awkward. But for some reason, the Radio Demon’s usual static and frequency searching was making him feel like he should speak instead. Did the guy have any control over whatever weird radio noises came from him? Lucifer wished he had more time to find out.

It was a strange feeling walking to what would likely be certain doom with the demon he… hated? No, that wasn’t right. Disliked wasn’t right either. Actually, everything the King of Hell felt for the Radio Demon was distinctly opposite of those words. But like also not. Talking to Alastor, walking alongside him… it was nothing like how he felt when he walked alongside Charlie, where he had the desperate urge with every waking moment to crack some sort of joke and get to know her better after all of those years he lost with her. Nor was it anything like when he would walk alongside Lilith back in happier days, where he would want to do nothing but stare adoringly at his wife’s beautiful face and kiss the very ground she walked on.

(But were those days truly happier?)

With Alastor, there was no urge to do anything, really. He didn’t want to seem fun like with Charlie or besotted like with Lilith. He wanted to impress, sure, but not to the point where the Radio Demon would be repulsed by him. Actually, if anything, Lucifer was the one who should be repulsed by Alastor. He was in Hell for a reason, after all. Based on his tiny tells, he had almost certainly been a serial killer back in the day. A cannibal one too. Probably with some good amount of mommy or daddy issues thrown in. Lucifer wasn’t a big fan of cannibals usually. They were always trying to one-up each other in turns of edginess and always made such a mess…

“You’re staring at me, Sire,” Alastor said, snapping Lucifer from his thoughts. Warmth flooded his face immediately. “Is there something on my face?”

(Yes. There was a bright smile, flashing crimson eyes, and sharp statuesque cheekbones…)

“No,” Lucifer said simply, directing his gaze forward. Alastor’s left ear twitched slightly in response. Another tiny tell. 

He knew Lucifer was lying.

Murder Meadows stood just outside the easternmost edge of Pentagram City, far away from the hotel. It was quite infamous, being the preferred site of executions for whatever gang, mafia, or personal vendetta that was running around. It was a rather nice place too, outfitted with numerous trees that were just perfect to hang people from and plenty of deep holes that could be filled with cement, tar, or sand. The old guillotine had rusted long ago, but Lucifer figured that most executioners preferred to have their prey die nice and slow by rusty blade anyways, rather than the quick death a sharp one would give.

They approached the circle of trees at the very top of the hill, where they found a large clearing at its very center. This would be the perfect place to do what needed to be done. It’s not like these trees would be here for long anyways.

Lucifer glanced up at the Radio Demon, following the curve of his ears to his jaw. They were twitching in all different directions, as though Alastor was already listening for the flap of angel wings. From the way his smile didn’t move, it sounded like they hadn’t started moving yet. Good. Maybe they still had a little time.

When they reached the center of the clearing, they stood there and faced each other. For a few moments, neither of them moved. Lucifer watched as the Radio Demon’s eyes darted quickly around the clearing. His smile widened, the left corner lifting a tiny bit more than the right.

He was nervous.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alastor’s left hand lifted from where it was resting atop his cane. He offered it to Lucifer palm up, a green flame already dancing through his red fingers. Alastor’s eyes widened, glee dancing all around them. 

“Any moment now, Your Highness.”

Lucifer raised one eyebrow as he stared at the hand before him. Then, he smirked and swatted it away. Typical sinner, assuming that the Big Bad Boss of Hell simply shook hands for deals. He was the originator of these things, after all. Where was the show? The pizazz?

“Sorry, Bambi. I don’t do handshakes,” he said.

Alastor tipped his head to one side, his smile widening even more. It was fucking creepy, kinda like a haunted doll. “What ever do you mean, my little lord? Do all deals not start with a handshake?”

Lucifer allowed a small smirk to light up his features in response. Carefully, he reached up to his hat and grasped the apple that had lain adorned on his crown for so long. The golden snake keeping it in place unwound, allowing the King of Hell to remove the shining fruit from its resting place. Alastor’s gaze followed it all the while. Once he had it, Lucifer took both his hands and easily split it in half, sneering as the golden juices of this ancient fruit dripped slowly between his fingers. Alastor’s tongue darted in between his teeth in that moment, tracing a slow path past his lips as red eyes practically glowed with malice and longing.

“It was never about the hat… or the crown,” Lucifer said. “My deals - the important ones anyway - have a little bit more than a handshake sealing them.” He offered one half of the apple to the sinner, who took it in both hands and cradled it as though it were the most precious thing in the world to him. Despite that, Alastor’s gaze only slid to the fruit for a single second. Otherwise, that look of complete and utter possessiveness? was trained on Lucifer and Lucifer alone.

“Alastor. Radio Demon. Scourge of the Bayou,” Lucifer said. “I, Lucifer, Star of the Morning will make a deal with you.” The hellish light around Murder Meadows faded, to be replaced with complete darkness. Only the golden glow of the apple in Lucifer’s hands and the green one in Alastor’s lit up the area around them. 

The trees around them warped and twisted, groaning in protest as they bowed before the King of Hell. They cast their long shadows along the ground, desperately reaching for a power they could never possess. Strange, otherworldly symbols surrounded the two, green mingling with gold until there was no way to tell which symbols were Alastor’s and which were Lucifer’s. The only noise around them was the thundering boom of radio static and the whine of feedback and frequency searching.

Alastor’s eyes were black now. His smile was shark-like in its width and sharpness. Red claws slowly grew from his fingers, threatening to shred the precious apple to pieces. His limbs twisted and cracked as they grew. A pair of antlers were slowly extended from the demon’s head, twisting and curling in angles abnormal even for the deer-like demon.

Something stirred in Lucifer at the sight. Something dark and dangerous. He wanted to reach out and take hold of those antlers. Mount them on his wall, perhaps, above his bed. They would look so pretty in his bedroom…

“The terms of this deal are as follows,” Lucifer tilted his head back slightly as he gave his six wings and tail a slow, languid stretch. He needed to stretch more. He wished he had time to stretch more. “I shall share with you my divine power, granted unto me by the One Above All and the Throne of Hell. With this power, you will be able to break any deal you have made in the past with any being without consequence. In return, you will share your own power with me, granted unto you as an Overlord of Hell and your title as the Radio Demon. You will also swear to do everything in both your old power and your new one to protect Hell and its heir. And…” he swallowed. “In the event that you see that I will not leave this fight alive, you will flee to Charlie’s side. You will protect her and watch over her in my stead.”

The static stopped. Lucifer looked up and met Alastor’s black gaze. The smile was gone. His brows were furrowed.

“No.”

Rage bubbled up in the King of Hell. “No!? What do you mean no!?”

“I mean no,” Alastor’s clawed hands closed upon the apple, mouth pulled back into a furious snarl. “I will not be leaving you here to die.”

Lucifer growled. “Yes you fucking will! You’ll be one of the strongest beings in Hell after this deal, and like fuck I’m just gonna let you run around with all this power and no way to keep Charlie pro-“

“What about you!?” Alastor shouted. The black gave way to red once again as his twisting limbs snapped back to normal. Well, normal for the Radio Demon anyways. “Who will protect you!?”

“Didn’t you fucking listen? You’re gonna to leave me to die, shit-for-brains! That way at least one of us can protect her!”

“I will not do that!” the other demon snarled, storming to close the gap between them. “You need to live! You need to see her grow up!”

“She is grown up!” a spurt of fire burst from Lucifer’s left ear, causing the nearby trees to quake in fear. “She’s all grown up and she’ll keep growing, but she can do that without me! She doesn’t need me anymore! You never needed me! Why the fuck do you even care if I live through this!? You’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted from this deal! You want ultimate power, right? Well here it fucking is! Eat your goddamned apple or I’ll-“

The roar of radio static filled his ears. For a moment, all the King of Hell saw was red. All he felt was a sharp, searing pain at his lower jaw. And then, heat. No, not heat. Warmth. Warmth that bubbled in his chest and rose to his mouth, reaching for the soft, unyielding pair of lips touching his.

Alastor’s touch was simultaneously gentle and desperate, passion dancing through his fingertips. One hand was on Lucifer’s jaw, the other on the small of his back, fingers dancing through the numerous angelic feathers adorning his wings. The Radio Demon’s lips moved gently against his. When he felt the gentle prod of a tongue, it was all Lucifer could do to open his mouth to allow entrance, nearly collapsing completely as the buttery, creamy, and nutty taste of California avocado danced on his tastebuds.

Fuck. What was he supposed to do with his hands? Alastor was bent over, body pressed so close that it sent bats or butterflies or… or something fluttering out of the pit in Lucifer’s stomach. He could grab… hair! Yes! His left hand tangled itself into the red locks of hair above him, settling itself between the ears. And his right? The Radio Demon had a good idea about the small of the back thing. If he could just… yes! There! The curve of Alastor’s back soon gave way to something soft and… fluffy? It was wagging, whatever it was- wait. This was a tail. This was a fucking deer tail. (Un)Holy fuck.

A wave of nausea overtook him. Wait, no. This wasn’t nausea. It was… dizziness. But like, a good dizziness. The sort that left you breathless yet also wanting to dance and sing at the same time. And sing he did. Lucifer groaned into the kiss, his eyes finally sliding shut. This was… amazing. He hadn’t felt this way since… since…

Eden.

After a few seconds (or hours or eons), they moved away. Both were panting lightly. Alastor’s face was flushed almost as red as his hair. If the warmth over Lucifer’s cheeks was any indication, his face was probably glowing gold by now. For a few moments, they simply stared at each other, disbelief and unspoken something hanging in the air between them.

Alastor was first to break the silence. “You… dropped your apple.”

He swallowed. “So did you.”

The Radio Demon’s smile was back, if a bit dazed. “Oh… Right.” he bent over and picked his half of the fruit up, shaking it slightly. He cleared his throat. “I… don’t think we have time to…”

To talk about what the fuck just happened. To express how much they wanted to have the other. To think about what this all meant to them.

Lucifer cleared his throat as well. “N-No. No. We don’t. B-But-“ Fuck, was he a teenager again? “But that’s fine. We’ll make time. After… after all this stupid shit is over.”

The smile softened just a touch. “I… think I would like that, my king.”

Lucifer picked up his half of the apple. “I think I’d like that too.” Then, he straightened his back. His wings and tail were gone. All his usual demonic features were gone, actually. Alastor’s antlers had retreated as well. His claws remained normal claw-sized and his eyes were still red. No “true forms” here to speak of.

(But what were their true forms, really?)

“I’m altering the deal,” Lucifer said. He turned to face the Radio Demon, who straightened his back and continued to cradle the fruit in his two hands. Good. He was finally beginning to learn some respect. “In exchange for a share of my divine power and the ability to break your past deals, I want you to share some of your power with me. I also want you to swear that you will protect Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell, for eternity. And…” he sneered. “You swear that the two of us will kick Seraphim ass and make it outta here so we can watch our daughter grow to become even more powerful than us! Do we have a deal?”

Jubilance spread all over Alastor’s face. “Yes, my lord."

They ate their halves of the apple like madmen, not stopping until the golden juice dribbled down from their lips. Immediately, Lucifer felt something dark and new swell up in him, the radio static buzzing around him reaching fever pitch. He threw his head back, nearly bend in half the wrong way as this strange new power surrounded him. The shadows of the trees shrieked and writhed as they were made to take shapes wholly unnatural to them at the King of Hell’s whim. Yes, there was something lurking out there now. It was everywhere. At the foot of every tree, underneath every rock, in the darkest corners of every room, and in every single spot where light did not reach. It was all his to command. As the newly created tendrils of shadow surrounded him, a maniacal laugh bubbled up from deep inside him. 

This. Was. Ecstasy.

Lucifer would have to ask Alastor later how he felt as divine power flooded through him. Light shone from his very core, flooding through his eyes and mouth as though it was impossible to contain. He too was bent nearly in half, clawed hands grasping at his face as the radio static gave way to the high-pitched whine of a microphone’s feedback. He was clearly giggling, giddy and drunk as eyes, beautiful red eyes ripped themselves into existence.

They were all over his tailcoat and his twisting, writhing, abnormally elongated limbs. Great, red blinking orbs that darted every which way. Small flames danced their way across his antlers. He had even gained an extra pair of eyes right underneath his original ones. Radio dials flickered in each and every one of these new eyes. His Cheshire cat’s smile now truly split his face in two, so much so that golden stitches appeared to keep the two halves of his head together. 

Lucifer’s laugh caused those thousands of eyes to swing towards him, red sclera quickly turning black. That smile never faltered as the Radio Demon approached, one huge clawed hand reaching out for the smaller demon. But the crushing grip Lucifer expected never came. Instead, one clawed finger gently stroked the side of his face, then gently traced his jawline up until it was stroking the new branches of Lucifer’s red horns.

“Beau… ti… ful…” the voice of the Radio Demon intermingled with a million others. The black tendrils surrounding Lucifer reached up towards him, as though trying to grip onto that giant hand. “Mine…”

“Not so bad yourself,” Lucifer said. Huh, his voice sounded different. Like it was being filtered through something. Whatever it was, he kinda liked it. 

Alastor said nothing for a few moments. Then, those demonic features melted away. The Radio Demon stood in front of the King of Hell, himself again but also not. His eyes were different. One eye was ink black with a single tear falling from it. The other a brilliant gold. In the reflection of that inky black eye, Lucifer saw that he had a matching pair. Yeesh, this was kinda creepy too. He hoped it wasn’t permanent. His horns and wings retreated as did the shadowy tendrils. Oh, the other’s eyes were normal again. Hopefully that meant his were too.

Alastor’s smile faltered as his gaze flickered over to Lucifer’s left hand. Confused, he held it up. Oh. His ring. His wedding ring. The ring Lilith had given him just after The Fall.

“Well, we can’t have that now can we?”

Before Lucifer could protest, the Radio Demon’s fingers curled around the band and yanked it right off. It floated just above Alastor’s palm, morphing and undulating like putty. A brief spurt of red flame torched the metal black. Then it split itself apart to form two distinct half-circles. Alastor’s grin widened as he bowed, offering these new pieces of jewelry to the King of Hell.

Lucifer looked down at them. They were… awfully plain. Now that wouldn’t do. He waved one hand over them. Tendrils of gold weaved through, forming the pattern of a radio wave on them.

Alastor’s right ear twitched twice. He didn’t like to be one-upped. Another wave of his hand. This time, a single tiny red flower-shaped gem bloomed in the center of each ring. One was the familiar four-petaled face of a California poppy. The other…

“A magnolia?”

Alastor flicked one finger towards him in response. The magnolia ring flew over and settled next to his left ear. One quick, sharp prick later, Lucifer was sporting a brand new black earring. The other he saw had managed to make its way to pierce the tip of Alastor’s own left ear.

“We have a lot of magnolia trees where I’m from,” the Radio Demon said. “They stand for perseverance. And we’ll need a lot of that.”

“Hm,” Lucifer reached up and touched the other’s new jewelry piece. The metal was strangely gentle and warm. The California poppy gleamed cheerfully at its center. “This one’s said to stand for the hope of a peaceful future.”

“Do you think we’ll see one, Your Majesty?”

“That’s what these things are, right? A promise or whatever?”

Alastor’s answer was cut off by the loud blare of a war horn. Up above them, the sky split open to reveal a gaping wound filled with clouds and golden light. Shadowy figures were flying out of that wound, brandishing weapons and screaming expletives at the hellish landscape below them. Lucifer searched the mass of heavenly beings for any hide or hair of his brothers and sisters. None. Fucking typical. The Seraphim sat back while the lower orders led the charge. 

Lucifer summoned his cane. It had been a long, long time since he needed to use it this way. He moved it to the side, allowing both his angelic light and Alastor’s darkness to run through it. Twin tendrils of gold and black surrounded the cane and swallowed the apple whole. When they dissipated, a long black sword appeared in its place. Then, it burst into flames.

“He drove out the man, and at the east of the garden of Eden he placed the cherubim and a flaming sword that turned every way to guard the way to the tree of life,” the Radio Demon said. Gold and black flooded his eyes once again.

The King of Hell snorted, one of his new tendrils reaching up high to flick the other man in the nose. “Seriously? Genesis?”

The static surrounding the demon popped a little in response. “Would you rather I pull from Revelations instead? Though I’m not quite sure how I feel about being cast into a fiery pit alongside you.”

Lucifer waved his hand. “It’s not so bad once you learn enough magic to stop the flesh melting off you. But we’ll talk about that later.” The angels were nearly upon them now. He could easily make out the silvery tips of angelic spears gleaming menacingly above them. “They’re here. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”