Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You wiped the sweat off your forehead, right before unceremoniously plopping face first into your very comfortable bed—which was, of course, accompanied by a string of curses.

Rolling over, you laid on your back; ruffling your hair in frustration. God, you hated dealing with people… If 7-year-old you knew that an acting career also came along with interacting with fans, you would’ve long since left that dream behind and never letting it come to fruition. Maybe becoming a psychiatrist would’ve been a better choice than—actually, scratch that, your job seemed way better than that… You still needed to deal with people if you had that occupation.

Gosh, why did both of your dream jobs require you to interact with people? You were good with it, sure, but you still hated it. Especially when you had to talk with people you could hardly consider friends—heck, you didn’t even think of them as friends at all in all actuality. And your fans? You loved them, sure, but the weirder ones made you want to crawl out of your skin… literally. You did not want to know that people were measuring your foot size, or creating strange fanfictions of you. Eugh. You should remind yourself to never search your own name in AO3 ever again.

Enough of that, though. You really wanted to take a nice, warm bath—so you did! It was refreshing, a nice break from the very long day you had. It was relaxing, and you enjoyed it until your fingers got all wrinkly.

After drying yourself off and putting on a change of clothes, you plopped on to the bed yet again. The bath had washed the sleepiness out of you, so really, you had nothing to do except rot of boredom… Just kidding! You weren’t that boring, you had your own secret little hobbies that the public knew nothing about.

…Okay, maybe you should have worded that a bit differently, because that sounds like you were doing something illegal. Which you’d never ever do, by the way. Said secret little hobby was actually quite innocent compared to criminal activities, and said secret little hobby was, really, just watching your favorite TV show.

You almost unwillingly stood up from your comfortable position in bed, but the boredom, which may as well have been killing you, ‘forced’ you to walk into the direction of your living room. You jumped onto the couch—damn, was that couch plush—and sat (Lied down? You’re not sure how to describe it.) in the strangest yet most comfortable position you could possibly place yourself in.

You grabbed the remote, opening the television and then proceeding to open Amazon Prime. I’m sure you get where I’m going right now, yes? I mean, a show literally just recently released on Amazon Prime; it was very popular too. So, yes, you guessed it— you were going to rewatch Hazbin Hotel, and you were going to fucking enjoy it.

You were very, very attached to the show and it’s characters. You’ve been waiting for Season 1 ever since you saw its pilot—how many years ago was that now? It's been a while since its pilot was released. Maybe around 4 years, give or take.

When news of a Season 1 was released, you waited in anticipation until you could binge the show. Safe to say you absolutely enjoyed it, it brought back a lot of nostalgia that you would’ve almost thought you’d known them in real life because it felt like seeing an old friend you cut connections with... You’re getting a bit sidetracked, aren’t you? Well, anyway, you could say the show and its characters completely enthralled you; hell, you had spent a lot of your free time researching about every single one of them.

In your mind, you humbly think you’ve perfected all their characters, you might even be able to imitate how they act completely. You would brag about that, if not for the fact none of your… ‘friends’ watched Hazbin Hotel. What a bummer. Maybe they did and just kept it a secret? I mean, who knows what that would do to their reputation given the vulgarity of the show. Not that it mattered to you, anyway, but a certain manager would like to disagree.

After finishing the show (Which, of course, included singing along whenever a musical number started), for whatever reason, you thought that taking a stroll outside was a good idea. Sometimes you needed a breath of fresh air, you know? Your manager probably wouldn’t approve of you going out without guards but… Well, who cares, really? Not you!

Probably the guards, actually… their paycheck relied on your safety. And your safety couldn't be guaranteed if you weren't around for them to guard in the first place.

Oh, well, sneaking out it is!

Shutting down the TV, you went back to your room, changing into a pair of neutral-colored clothing—it’s probably look more suspicious if you went all black—and a mask. That should do it! You should probably grab your purse too. You stuffed your makeup pouch, sanitizer, extra face mask, and of course—your money.

Then you opened the window as quietly as you could and swiftly jumped out of your window—successfully landing without any injuries. Hooray! You were used to sneaking out, after all, so it was a piece of cake for you.

It was nice, finally having some fresh air. The night, surprisingly, was free of clouds—which meant you could see stars. The walk was pleasant, no disturbances. Though, it was almost quiet to the point it was eerie… You brushed that thought aside, might as well just enjoy the alone time you have instead of fearing for your life when there was nothing to fear. It’s not like anyone would recognize you; you were skilled in the art of disguise!

...Well, nobody was crowding you, so you'd like to think you are.

It’s not like you could help wanting to sneak out, though! Being a star was so exhausting, you never expected it to be like this. Never expected having to claw your way to the top. You thought you could stop acting once you stepped off of the stage—but no. When you’re a celebrity, all the world becomes a stage, and you are only what the public wants you to be. You have to please them, be what they view you as, to be their little star—their revered idol, otherwise your career… everything you’ve so painstakingly built… will come crashing down.

Strolls like these were your only respite from the never-ending act you had to put on. You could never be truly and wholly honest with anyone but yourself. You could only be ‘you’ when you were alone. And you hated that. There were many times you wished that you were younger, much more free, able to express yourself, oblivious to the cares of the world. You’d much rather be learning the multiplication table than having to put a self-inflicted mask anytime you were even with someone.

More than anything, you wanted freedom. Freedom to act the way you wanted, freedom to live life the way you wanted, freedom from the scrutinizing eyes of others, freedom from having your every action analyzed, freedom. Just… freedom. You wanted the entrance for the gilded cage you were trapped in to finally be open, for you to escape the loneliness you experienced every single day, for it to all… stop.

You shook those thoughts away. It was no use being so depressing, you were a star, for God's sake! Stars are meant to shine, to burn bright; a star like you wasn't going to dim out any time soon. If you were going to go, you were going to go with a bang.

Your chest tightens, and you feel a drop of water on your face. Huh, was it drizzling? Too bad you forgot to bring an umbrella—well, whatever! It's probably only a little drizzle, as the weather check earlier said that there’d be none. You can walk it off.

You walk a little more and feel your stomach grumble. Right. You had skipped dinner, again. Well, I suppose that means a trip to convenience store—yay! Food... you were a little hungry, so you walked with a lot more pep in your step going to the convenience store. Hm, what could you buy at this tim—

…What?

Your trail of thought stopped, as the ground beneath you gave way into emptiness. You let out a scream in pure instinct, clawing at whatever could keep you from falling—but there was nothing you could hold onto. You were falling. You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact, as if that’d stop the impact of a fall.

…But there was nothing. You peeked, opening an one eye, almost scared to what you’d see if you opened them.

You were… floating?

The only thing you could see around you was darkness. Nothing else. There was no light, no nothing, it was empty. A void, if you will. Not a single noise could be heard. Nothing at all.

This was… weird, and so so very strange. You were floating, and your fear of heights did not help at all. You froze in place—What if you fell if you moved? How far would the fall be? Would you die?— Die? …An empty, dark void. Are you dead? Was this how death felt like? Emptiness? Were you going to be for eternity? Was this purgatory? Your own personal hell?

…No. No, you refuse to believe you died. You couldn’t have died. You don’t remember anything about dying—Remember. What do you remember? You remember walking. Walking... to the convenience store. You remember thinking. The feeling of falling. But not dying.

You wait.

You wait, wait, wait, then wait some more. But there’s only so much you can do while being frozen in place in a place filled with emptiness, so you move. You move, and when you do nothing happens… thankfully. You look around you, left, right, then behind. Something catches your eye—there was… a light?

A small flicker of light, sure, but it was a stark contrast to the darkness surrounding you. A tiny, inviting warmth. You wanted to move towards it, reach out to…

You’re not sure how you would even do that, though. The only thing you even tried to move was your head, and even that took more effort than it normally should. It felt like there was some force—gravity, perhaps? You felt lighter, though, like you were submerged in water.

But you aren’t in water, you’re sure of it. You could still feel the rhythm of your own breathing—maybe it just… worked similar to water? If you applied your own force, propelled yourself to the light, would you move?

You tried, and sure enough… it succeeded. You floated—swam?—your way to the light, the surrounding area getting warmer and warmer the nearer you got. Almost to the point it where it felt like you stuck your whole body in an oven, you wanted to pull back at this point—but you… couldn’t?

The nearer you got, the more you were pulled in; like some indescribable force was pushing you towards the light. The light was almost blinding—was this how witches felt like when they were burned at the stake? You wouldn’t want to experience that, though it didn’t seem like you had a choice now anyway.

Your surroundings become more red as you get nearer, eventually encasing everything in red.

Wind.

The sudden feeling of wind rushing past you surrounds you as you fall down; it’s exhilarating and terrifying all at once. It's a force that engulfs you, pulling at your clothes, whipping through your hair, and pressing against your body with an almost tangible weight.

It scares you.

You barely manage to gather the courage to open your eyelids—almost afraid that your eyes will fall out if you do. But you open them anyway. And what you see is more red. There’s not much you can see when you’re squinting your eyes, but there’s two… spheres? A white sphere, and a red sphere. It’s hard to make it out completely before you have to close your eyes due to the force of the wind.

You push your knees closer to your body, curling up into a ball. You don’t know how to brace yourself for the impact of falling, but you try to anyway. You feel yourself crash. The world encased itself in darkness, and you slip into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

A pungent smell reaches your nostrils, and you’re reminded you’re not at home sweet home. In fact, you don’t know where you are at all. You can’t be aware of your surroundings without opening your eyes, after all. So you pull yourself out of your only slightly comfortable rest and open them.

The first thing you see?

Red.

Lots of red.

Why in the bloody hell was it red? You're pretty damn sure the world isn’t supposed to be this red. Hell, you don’t think you’ve seen… anywhere, really, with this much red—hold on a second… Hell?

Okay. Maybe you were onto something, but just because everything around you seemed like shades of red doesn’t mean it’s Hell. Maybe some weird kidnapper shit did this…? Argh. You really don’t know.

You take a look at your surroundings, it wouldn't hurt to be cautious—especially with you being in such an… unfamiliar place. You glance around you—okay, maybe there’s more than just red, but it’s still a lot of red. It’s weirdly, oddly familiar.

You recognize this place as… an alleyway? Why were you in an alleyway?

You try to remember anything, anything at all—and it hits you. The feeling of falling, the light, and that dark, empty void. But it still doesn't answer the most important question—where were you? You know how you got here, but you don't know why you got here, or where you even are in the first place. It's confusing. You almost want to curl up in a ball and close your eyes so this could all just be some silly dream. You really, really hoped it was. But everything felt so... real. It felt too real. To the point you couldn't even delude yourself into thinking this was some weirdly hyper-realistic lucid dream of yours.

You push yourself against the wall even further, trying to hide yourself—from what? You don't even know yourself. You only know that you feel scared, confused and... you don't want to be wherever this is. You'd rather be anywhere else rather than this unfamiliar place, even the Hellaverse.

...Huh?

Why, out of all the things you could've thought of, did you think of the Hellaverse? You could've thought of your home, a set, anything. But—for some strange reason, the Hellaverse makes the most... sense? Hellaverse, Hellaverse... the only color you can see right now is red—the Pride Ring? This might be a far fetch, but something tells you you're right. You need more proof to confirm this silly theory of yours, however.

You wipe your tear-stained eyes, standing up with shaky legs. You lean on the wall behind you to stabilize yourself, and once your limbs are steady enough, you walk. It's... admittedly, it's scary. But unless you want to helplessly sit in a corner and weep, this is what you have to do. Everything seems... well, very hell-ish. The alleyway is empty, but the walls are filled with graffiti and the like. There are dead bodies laying around—and you have to suppress the urge to scream at the sight. The bodies are, well, morbid, to say the least. Some are decapitated, some have their limbs teared off, some have cuts and slashes all over them. You really want to throw up—but you do notice something. Something very important.

They all look very, very demon-like.

Some have horns, some give off an animal-esque appearance, some have an odd number of limbs, some have way too many eyes... All in all, they do not look human. Sure, some have human characteristics, but that doesn't mean they look human. Not in the slightest. They look like they'd be in the Hellaverse, so it only confirms your silly theory. It makes you wonder what you look like since you ended up here.

You decide to look for any sort of reflective surface. There's still a chance you're in a very lucid dream, despite how real it feels. Even if you aren't, at least you can confirm if you're still... you.

There's... none. No reflective surface. At least not in your immediate sight. Then it hits you—blood could be used as a mirror, could it not? You didn't know if blood could be used as mirrors, probably because puddles of the red liquid were not normally seen at all… Well, except the fake blood you used on set. But it doesn’t really count, does it? Well, whether or not it worked, you decided it didn't hurt to try.

You walk over to one of the dead bodies, specifically the one with the largest pool of blood. Clenching your nose shut as to prevent yourself from smelling that putrid stench, you look at the puddle of blood. In it, you see yourself—a reflection of you, but still you. You in all your human-looking glory. You looked... normal. You were both glad and not glad. Your image wasn't distorted, so the off-chance that this was some freakishly realistic lucid dream was thrown out the window and now you had to face the fact that you were in some weird altered version of Hell which was completely different from what the religious believers on Earth said. It's... unfortunate, really.

You decide to look around—you've looked to your left, looked to your right, and looked downwards. The only place left to look was, well, up. The sight that meets you isn't that surprising, if you were going to be completely honest. It was still red. You walked to the edges of the alleyway, peeking your head out and looking up for just a moment. And, much to your chagrin, the sight that greeted you were two orbs settled in the sky. You remember seeing them as you fell, but it is only now that you get to see them clearly. There's one that looks all angelic and heavenly, and one that has a pentagram on it. You're... definitely in Hell. Not the fire and brimstone one from the Bible, though. You're in Vivziepop's Hell.

If you were here then... How did you even die? Did you even die? How did you get here? Wasn't this fictional? If Hell was real, what would Vivziepop be considered in this world? Wait, do you have super cool powers? Fuck, are you gonna get killed by other demons' super cool powers?

You suppress your internal turmoil. There's no use in panicking! Well, that's what they'd always repeat during natural disaster drills. You're not sure if this is natural, but it is a disaster. You inhale, then you exhale. You look around the alleyway some more, taking time to collect yourself. As you pace back and forth, you notice a poster. It looks out of place, the poster having a childlike feel to it. It's.. very innocent, with the crayons and crappy drawing making it look like a child's handiwork. The drawing has a building (with a crudely drawn ship and circus at the side), demons holding hands, and a rainbow to boot. In bold, the words "HAPPY HOTEL" are written at the top. You're sure Charlie is the one that drew this, but seeing it doesn't make the place feel any less surreal.

This newfound information sparked an internal debate within you; to go to the Hazbin Hotel, or to not. If you went to the Hazbin Hotel, you’d have to deal with Alastor which is something you personally do not feel like you’re ready to deal with… On the other hand, you might get killed if you decide to roam around Hell willy-nilly. At least if you go there, you’d have the protection of the Princess of Hell herself… Though she doesn’t exactly look capable of bringing enough fear to someone that they’d stay far, far away from you; you’d have a safe place to stay.

The safest option already made itself clear to you. With that decided, you inspected your surroundings once again—the dead bodies were still there, but now you were taking a closer look at them. As you scanned them over, the weapons that were pierced into them made themselves quite well-known. They radiated a white light, you're not sure how you managed not to notice them.

…Angelic weapons, huh?

You could only guess that an extermination had happened recently, you considered yourself very lucky you hadn’t been dropped in the middle of one. Since angelic weapons were the most effective way to kill a sinner, though you didn’t want to have to need it, the best choice would be to grab one from one of the carcasses laying around. Sounds simple enough. You pulled it out of a dead body, the squelching sound making you want to puke and the blood spewing out almost making you. Something—or rather, someone—catches your attention.

An imp.

Huh... An injured imp? You're sure it couldn't be from the extermination, as it was clearly stated that exorcists were to only exterminate sinners—not hellborn. The only sensible conclusion is that it was injured by the hands of a sinner. Most likely due to the fact that in the Pride Ring, they were below the sinners. It was probably some alcoholic drunk wanting to vent their troubles to some poor being, and it just so happened to be this hellborn. You couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of sympathy for the imp.

After all, kindness would always come back to you in the end—perhaps the imp could be of use to you. You didn't want to use anyone in this way, but Hell is a place where you either eat or get eaten.

...You could help the imp right now, but with your current appearance, it could end up detrimental for you.

Oh, right!

You had brought your purse when you were out taking a stroll, although it sadly looks a little tattered, the contents are still alright. You may ask where I’m going with this, right? Well, you had brought your makeup pouch with you as well, and oh—you feel so lucky that it contained red face paint for whatever reason. You could paint all the visible parts of your body with that! Sure, you could only alter that part of yourself for now… but that’ll do. It’s better than looking completely human.

You looked through the pouch for the face paint, not minding if it got messy or not. You could deal with it later. You’re not sure how your bag managed to follow you all the way down here—though you suppose it’s because you were carrying it on your person at that time—or how you even got here in the first place. All you could remember was falling, burning, and pain. Lots of pain.

Pushing that… rather unpleasant thought aside, the face paint laid in your hand. You opened it, swiping some of the pigment across your finger and painting your face first. After that was done, you thankfully still had a lot of the paint left, you proceeded to your arms—then next, your legs. You didn’t bother with the parts already covered with clothing, as it wasn’t visible anyhow.

With your transformation complete, you take a moment to admire your handiwork. The red face paint now adorns your skin, giving you a demonic appearance that blends in more seamlessly with the surroundings of this hellhole. You feel a strange sense of empowerment wash over you, knowing that this disguise could potentially save your life in this hostile environment.

Turning your attention back to the injured imp, you approach cautiously, mindful of your altered appearance. The imp eyes you warily, but you can see a glimmer of hope flicker in its eyes as you draw near. Kneeling down beside it, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to convey your intentions.

"Hey there," you say softly, your voice a soothing contrast to the chaos of Hell around you. "I'm here to help. Can you understand me?"

The imp nods weakly, its expression a mix of pain and gratitude. You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for the creature. Despite the harshness of its surroundings, it's just another soul trying to survive in this merciless realm.

Carefully, you examine the imp's injuries, noting the severity of its wounds. It's clear that it needs medical attention, but you're not sure where to find such care in Hell. The Happy Hotel comes to mind, but you're hesitant to involve yourself with the figures that inhabit that place, most especially Alastor.

But you can't just leave the imp here to suffer, can you? Your conscience won't allow it.

With a determined sigh, you make a decision. "Hang tight," you tell the imp, offering a reassuring pat on its shoulder. The imp's eyes closed, falling asleep. Its heartbeat was still there, so you remained calm,

You're grateful you still remember those Scouting lessons you were required to take in elementary. It really saved your ass. You check your handbag—and thankfully, you're always prepared in case of an emergency that requires first aid. You get an assortment of bandages and antiseptic wipes, along with a pair of scissors to cut the bandages to size from inside it.

Your gaze lingered on the imp for a second, then your hands swiftly treated it's wounds(It felt weird referring to the imp by such impersonal pronouns even in thought, so you should probably ask it when awake. After the important things, of course). After a while, the imp stirred awake.

"...You're awake." You looked over to the imp, with it almost jolting away from the sound of your voice. You weren't surprised, you'd be fearful too if you heard someone's voice just seconds after you woke up from being beaten.
The hellborn, hesitantly, spoke up and asked. "You.... you actually treated my wounds?" If you said yes, the imp looked like it was about to cry. You're guessing nobody was ever kind to the imp, you almost feel bad. Well, this was Hell after all. It's almost lucky the hellborn didn't die of blood loss.

You replied with a nod, now that the imp was looking at you. You could almost see tears prickling the imp's eyes, as they jumped in to hug you... Weirdly affectionate, for someone who was born in hell. You flinched a little in surprise, but slowly wrapped your arms around the imp too. "Thank you, thank you! I would've died if not for you. Do you... uh, want anything from me? What's the price for saving me?"

Smart, but still naïve. The imp knew there was a price, but still seemed eager to pay you back—whatever the price might be. It made it all the more easier for you. "...I don't have a soul, though. So not that. I'm willing to give you my unwavering loyalty for the rest of my life in Hell, it's only natural as otherwise I wouldn't be living." You weren't planning on taking their soul, but it was useful information nonetheless.

"Then... Is it possible to give me your power?" You asked quizzically, you didn't know much of imps. You've watched Helluva Boss before, but they've never talked much about deals in there, much less imps giving someone their power through a contract. You're not sure if imps even had power, but there were small hints that they could use magic. And you were currently powerless at the moment, so what better way to gain a bit of power than this? It might not be that powerful, but at least you'd have magic.

"Yes. So... so just that? That's all you're asking?" They asked, you nodded. Their power and their loyalty is all you wanted, but it was more than enough. "I must warn you, I'm not powerful. Imps don't have innate abilities like sinners, we only have magic."

"That's fine," You waved it off. "So, your loyalty and power? Do we have a deal?" You stretched your hand out towards the imp and they took your hand, shaking on it. The deal was made. A combination of a red and white light enveloped the area around the two of you before promptly disappearing once the handshake was over.

You felt revitalized, like taking a cold shower after a trip in the fires of Hell. The feeling of power in your veins... You've never felt anything like it before. The energy spread throughout your whole body, and you felt even stronger than before. Both physically and spiritually. It was probably not much power—but for a human like you it felt like a lot. "Well, wasn't that just dandy?" You laughed slightly, then remembered something. "What's your name... and pronouns?"

"Oh... uh... Chol. I go by any pronouns, mostly gender-neutral ones."

"Right, Chol, do you know where the way to the Hazbin Hotel is?" You asked, it was probably best to start moving as soon as you could. Chol eagerly nodded, pointing to the direction of the hotel. "It's over there. Do you want to go there? I can go with you."

"That would be best, thank you." You smiled, they seemed very eager to help you. "Of course! It's the only thing I can do for the person who saved my life.”

Chapter Text

Hell was as accommodating as it seemed— which, really, was not at all. People kept bumping into you and Chol, pushing and shoving the two of you around, and you were now perfectly convinced it was purely intentional.

Unfortunately, according to Chol, this was the easiest way to get there. The other streets, apparently, were much more rowdy—or currently embroiled in some turf war. You weren't sure which was worse.

Hell is… very, very hot. Scorching, even. It’s a heat you’ve never felt before—not even on Earth, where you'd imagined you'd experienced the worst of it. The air itself feels thick with the burning weight of eternal flames, and sweat clings to your skin in a way that has you genuinely worried if your disguise will even hold up. Is that a smudge? Oh god, is it melting off?

It doesn’t help either that the demons you see give you strange looks. You could feel their gazes lingering on you, and you weren’t sure if it was curiosity or something more predatory. Either way, they didn’t miss a chance to give you strange looks, and while you tried to keep your posture straight and plaster a confident smile on your face, the constant jostling did little to help. You couldn’t even keep your balance half the time, so it didn’t really matter if you did look like some poor soul just waiting to be taken down.

You’re not weak, you’re not weak, you told yourself. People love preying on the helpless, and there’s no way in Hell—no pun intended—that you were going to let that happen.

And then you remembered something important.

The magic. The power you’d gained from the deal with Chol. The very thing that was supposed to make you formidable down here.

Except...

You realized with a sinking feeling that you didn’t know how to use magic. Not at all. Not even a little.

Maybe if you were the protagonist of some overpowered fanfiction written by a 12-year-old with too much free time, you’d have already mastered your newfound abilities the moment the deal was struck. But that was not the case. You were just an actor. An actor who, in hindsight, should’ve asked way more questions.

You could ask Chol, of course. That would make it easy, right? But then there was the matter of pride. Your ego was way too big to admit you didn’t know the basics of magic. Still, if there was ever a time to swallow that pride, it was now—because if you didn’t figure this out, you were going to get flattened.

You just needed to ease into it. Casual conversation. No big deal.

“Hey, Chol,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant while dodging an especially grisly demon with horns sharp enough to impale a small building. “How long have you been, uh, down here in Hell?”

Chol glanced over at you, tilting their head with a smile that didn’t quite reach their eyes. “Oh, me? All my life. Hellborn and proud of it! Though, I can’t say it's the nicest place to grow up.” They chuckled, but the sound was empty, tinged with bitterness.

“Right, right…” You nodded, pretending to understand. “You, uh, seem to handle yourself pretty well down here. With all the chaos and everything. How do you do it?”

Chol shrugged, giving you an almost too-casual glance. “You kinda have to. If you don’t, you’ll get chewed up and spat out. Sometimes literally. But hey, you learn a few tricks to survive.”

“Tricks like…” You trailed off, hoping they’d take the bait.

“Magic,” Chol said with an almost smug grin. “Imps like me? We might not be as flashy as the big guys, but we’ve got our own little sparks.”

You blinked. “Magic, huh?” You feigned interest. “That sounds… useful. I mean, I wouldn’t even know where to start with something like that. Seems complicated.”

Chol’s step faltered for a moment, then they turned to face you with a raised eyebrow. “Wait a second… Are you telling me you don’t know how to use the power you just took from me?”

You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your head. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, making a deal doesn’t come with an instruction manual."

Chol groans, facepalming dramatically. "You sinners are something else, I swear. All right, lucky for you, I’m feeling generous. I’ll teach you the basics when we get somewhere safe. You owe me, though."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Great! Thanks, Chol."

As you walk further into the heat and madness of Hell’s streets, the noise begins to build, and a sudden, unsettling shriek cuts through the chaos. Chol glances around, expression sharpening. "We're getting close. That means the Imp HQ is just up ahead. Keep your head down, all right? Things get a little… hectic around here."

Before you can ask what that means, the sound of something—or someone—hitting the ground followed by maniacal laughter fills the air. You turn to see a towering figure approaching, draped in tattered clothing and adorned with bizarre accessories. It's Blitzo.

He strides up with an exaggerated swagger, his red skin and white burn marks stark against the duller landscape of Hell. His large, black-and-white striped horns curl upward, and his black spines bristle ominously as he moves. His knee-high boots click against the cracked ground, and you notice the yellow markings on his gloves glinting as he raises a hand to wave.

"Hey, Chol!" Blitzo’s voice booms over the din of Hell’s streets, a mix of amusement and annoyance. "I told you to take the side road, didn’t I? Now look at all these—" He gestures to the nearby demons who seem to be eyeing you both like prey. "—crazies! You trying to get us killed or something?"

Chol rolls their eyes but doesn’t break stride. "What’s the deal, Blitzo? I’m not in the mood for your theatrics today."

Blitzo laughs, too loudly for your liking, and sidesteps a nearby demon who’s taking an interest in your group. "You’re no fun. I’m just here to make sure nothing… catastrophic happens. You know, like that time you burned down half the Imp HQ during a ‘strategic’ meeting."

"I told you that was an accident," Chol huffs, but there’s a hint of affection in their voice.

Blitzo gives a dramatic sigh, turning his attention to you with a grin that’s half confident, half manic. "And who do we have here? A new recruit? A little out of place, aren’t ya?"

You smile politely, though you’re definitely on edge. "Just, uh, trying to get by. Chol’s been showing me around."

Blitzo gives you a once-over, his red eyes twinkling mischievously. "Well, keep an eye on Chol. They have a habit of leading people into the most dangerous spots in Hell. But hey, if you survive it, you get a badge, or maybe even a nice promotion." He winks.

"Enough with the theatrics, Blitzo," Chol mutters, but you can tell they’re used to this by now.

Blitzo chuckles, stepping back. "All right, all right. Don’t get your tail in a twist. Just make sure you know how to defend yourself down here." His voice turns a little more serious, and for a moment, it seems like you’re looking at a different side of him.

You nod, suddenly grateful for the strange imp’s warning. "Thanks, Blitzo."

"Don’t mention it," Blitzo says with a grin, and then he’s off, weaving through the crowd, leaving a wake of chaos and a few demons who look slightly rattled.

Chol watches him go, muttering under their breath, but then looks back at you. "Well, that’s Blitzo for you. But hey, if you can survive him, you’re probably gonna make it here just fine."

You chuckle, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling Blitzo left behind. "I’ll keep that in mind."

With Blitzo gone and the path ahead somewhat clearer, Chol leads you to a much quieter, less chaotic building. It’s dilapidated, but there’s a certain eerie calmness to it compared to the madness outside. Chol pushes the door open, and you follow them inside, where the air smells thick of sulfur.

"So, let’s start with the basics," Chol begins, pulling up a chair and gesturing for you to sit. "You’ve got a bit of magic coursing through you now, but you need to learn to harness it. Think of it like a muscle; the more you use it, the stronger it gets."

Chol explains the concept of energy manipulation, how to channel it, and how to focus your intent. It’s all a bit overwhelming, but you try your best to absorb the information. The first exercise is simple: lighting a candle.

"Focus your energy on your hand," Chol instructs. "Imagine the heat building up, feel the warmth spreading through your fingers. Now, direct that energy towards the wick."

You close your eyes, concentrating. You imagine a tiny flame igniting in your palm, growing hotter and brighter. Slowly, a small, flickering flame appears at your fingertips. You did it!

"Not bad for a first try," Chol says, impressed. "Now, let’s try something a bit more… destructive."

As you sit with Chol, practicing the basics of your newfound magic, the sounds of Hell outside seem to grow louder, as if the very ground itself is vibrating with the intensity of what’s happening beyond the walls of the building. You’re just beginning to feel a little more comfortable with the sensation of power in your hand, when suddenly, the door bursts open with a loud bang.

“Chol, you in here?!” a voice calls out, thick with impatience. You freeze for a second, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Chol only groans, clearly accustomed to these disruptions.

"Yeah, I'm here, Moxxie. What’s the emergency this time?” Chol doesn't even turn to look, continuing to guide you through your magic training as though nothing's happened.

The newcomer, Moxxie, walks into the room, his red skin and white freckles a stark contrast to the gloomy surroundings. His yellow eyes are sharp, and there's an air of constant annoyance around him, like someone who's had too much of Hell's nonsense to deal with. His navy-black coat billows behind him as he stands tall in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly impatient.

“Emergency?” Chol raises an eyebrow, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You mean, do you need someone to help you keep your temper in check again?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing really well,” Moxxie retorts, scowling, but the slight tremble in his voice gives away the fact that he’s not as confident as he wants to seem. His gaze briefly flickers to you, and his suspicion sharpens. "Who’s this?" His eyes narrow in a mix of curiosity and caution.

"This is—" Chol starts, but you quickly stand up from your seat, giving Moxxie a polite smile, trying to keep the atmosphere casual.

"Hi, I’m just learning how to control some magic," you say, trying to sound nonchalant, though there’s still a slight edge of nervousness in your voice. Moxxie’s scrutinizing gaze doesn’t help, but you push through it. "Chol’s been showing me the ropes."

Moxxie’s frown deepens as he sizes you up. “Magic, huh? You look pretty out of place, but then again, who doesn’t down here? Be careful with that stuff. Not everyone’s got the right kind of magic for Hell.”

"Not here to stay," you assure him, "Just learning the basics and heading out to the hotel after. I’ve got things to do."

That seems to ease some of Moxxie’s tension, but he still looks like he doesn’t fully trust you. "Well, just don’t go blowing anything up. We’ve got enough disasters around here without a newbie causing a scene."

The sharp sound of boots clomping against the floor breaks the tension, followed by a very different voice—one filled with energy and enthusiasm.

“Did I hear someone say newbie?” The voice practically sings with delight, and in strides a figure so full of life it’s like they’re bouncing with every step.

Millie enters, her red skin and fiery hair as vibrant as her personality. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and her wide, expressive eyes immediately fix on you with an almost overwhelming curiosity. She’s definitely a breath of fresh air compared to Moxxie’s more serious energy.

“Hiya, I’m Millie!” she says, holding out a hand and giving you the friendliest wave imaginable. “You’re learning magic, huh? That’s awesome! I bet Chol’s already taught you the super basics, but wait ‘til you get to the fun stuff!”

You laugh lightly, feeling slightly more at ease. “I’m just starting, but… yeah, Chol’s been showing me how to focus and control the energy. It’s… tricky.”

Millie chuckles, her head tilting in sympathy. “Oh yeah, I totally get it. Magic’s tricky at first, but once you start feeling it, it’s like second nature. You just gotta trust it!” She throws a playful wink in your direction. “And, y’know, keep an eye on Moxxie here. He’s all serious ‘n’ stuff, but he’s really soft once you get to know him.”

“Soft, huh?” Moxxie retorts, clearly not thrilled by Millie’s teasing. His sharp gaze flicks between the two of you, but his defensive posture seems to soften just a little. “Don’t believe everything she says.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Millie says with a teasing smirk. “I definitely believe her. You’re just a big teddy bear on the inside, Moxxie. No one’s fooled.”

“Anyways…” Moxxie mutters, crossing his arms. He turns back to you, his expression a little more serious. “Just take it easy with the magic, okay? It’s not something to play around with down here, especially not in Hell. You don’t wanna draw too much attention to yourself. Trust me.”

Before you can respond, Millie steps forward again, looking excited. “Don’t listen to him! Well, actually, listen to him, but also—magic is fun! I’d be happy to help you practice if you ever wanna get hands-on with it. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna be able to throw fireballs, right?” She adds with a laugh, then stops, turning to Chol with a slight frown. “But, uh, if that’s okay with you…”

Chol, who’d been mostly silent while Moxxie and Millie bickered, gives you a knowing look. “It’s fine. You can practice with Millie, but don’t get too carried away.” She adds the last part with a pointed stare at Millie, who winks back innocently.

“Don’t worry, Chol! We’ll be super careful!” Millie exclaims, her exuberance impossible to ignore.

While the interaction lightens the mood considerably, you can still sense that Hell is never far from the surface of everything, no matter how friendly they seem. You make a mental note of that as Moxxie steps aside to let Millie take over your magic practice, though he still keeps a wary eye on the proceedings.

As you work through your focus and intent, feeling the warmth grow in your hands once more, you can’t help but think that, maybe—just maybe—there’s a place for you here after all. Hell's not all fire and brimstone. There are people, too, and they’re not all as terrifying as the ones you’ve heard about.

Once your lesson with Millie and Moxxie wraps up, you turn to Chol, giving her a nod. “Thanks for everything. I think I’ve got it under control now. It’s been a lot to process, but… I’m ready to move on.”

Chol claps you on the shoulder. “You’re welcome. Just remember what I told you—magic's a tool. Don’t forget to respect it.” Her voice is oddly sincere, the first time you’ve heard her speak so seriously.

As you stand and head towards the door, Moxxie gives you one last wary look, while Millie shoots you a thumbs-up with a wide grin.

"Good luck out there," Moxxie says. “Just keep your head down.”

"Don’t forget to have fun with it!" Millie adds, her voice practically glowing with energy. “Magic’s not all serious business, y’know?”

You smile at both of them. “I’ll keep that in mind.”