Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A child is the picture of innocence when they are first brought into the world. A canvas that is empty and waiting to be painted by the world and the experiences that people have. In order for children to have a happy and secure childhood, it is the responsibility of the adults to watch over and take care of them. That canvas will be covered in a lovely picture that is painted by their happy lives.

Even when we paint the canvas with beautiful childhood memories, the world isn't always kind. There will be many more that will be painted by pain and despair. A great deal of these kids fall through the cracks, or perhaps the adults that are there for them simply do not care. No one will properly nurture and lead them, leaving them to figure out what to do on their own. As a result of the youngsters losing their innocence and being forced to mature more quickly in order to survive in the world, the painting eventually became black and broken.

When a person's life comes to an end, they are evaluated for their life and will be sent to either Heaven or Hell in the afterlife. Heaven has an insane standard that, in order to pass through those pearly gates, one must meet; if one is considered to be even remotely unworthy for it, they are sent straight to Hell.

Hell does not discriminate. It does not matter whether you are an adult or a child; as long as you do not match the standards of Heaven, you will be sent to the south side. A punishment that lasts forever in the land of fire and brimstone appears to have no end in sight.

A harsh punishment for adults but even a harsher punishment for a child. With life cut short and with no chance to experience life, a child will forever roam in this cesspool of an afterlife wondering if things would be the same or if they would be able to change had they reached adulthood.

Is this the end of the line?

Are they forever stuck in Hell with no way out?

Trapped in this land of eternal torment forever until the end of times?

Is there no way for them to reach the pearly gates they have heard so much about?

What’s this about the princess's new project???

Chapter Text

Hell—a place where the damned reside. Where rotten souls judged unworthy of Heaven are tossed into this pit to suffer through the worst imaginable torture: Each Other.

And if that isn't bad enough, every year angels descend from Heaven to slaughter them wholesale because Hell apparently has an overpopulation problem.

Who knew there'd be so many shitty people in the world?

The clock tower in the city center began its mournful toll. That ringing meant only one thing: the annual extermination was over. Exorcists across the city stopped mid-slaughter and took flight, returning to the golden portal in the sky while leaving massive devastation and countless corpses behind. As the portal sealed shut, demons began poking their heads out from hiding places, cautiously checking if the coast was clear.

Not long after, Charlie—the Princess of Hell herself—emerged from her shelter and launched fireworks into the blood-red sky, providing official confirmation that the extermination had ended. Demons crawled out from their holes and returned to their normal lives. Turf wars erupted immediately, with opportunistic demons scrambling to claim newly-vacated territories.

On one of the quieter streets caught up in the chaos, a small pink motorbike—adorably decorated—puttered down the road. The rider pulled over and removed his helmet, revealing fluffy pink and white fur. This was Angel Dust, a spider demon with impossibly long legs and Hell's most famous child actor.

Angel set down his helmet and headed straight for the nearest drug vending machine. He fed it some bills and selected his poison—literally named "Angel Dust"—when some punk-ass demon snatched the package right out of the dispenser.

"Hey!" Angel shouted, watching the thief bolt.

The punk just flipped him off over his shoulder. "Up yours, you little twerp!"

Angel was about to give chase when a boulder fell from the sky and splat—no more punk. Angel froze, staring at the crimson stain.

"Oh my gosh!!" He leaned down frantically, pawing through the carnage for his drugs.

"My drugs!!" Completely crushed.

"Damn it!" He looked up to find a massive weaponized blimp hovering overhead, bristling with cannons and firing indiscriminately in every direction.

Inside the blimp, a small snake demon monologued to himself about territorial conquest and future overlord status, imagining all the respect he'd command once he pulled this off. Tiny egg-shaped creatures scurried around him—his loyal crew.

"Ahahahaha! Those cowardly adults dare not interfere with my territorial takeover! A wise decision! The power of my machines is unmatched!" The snake kid's laughter echoed through the cabin as he rambled to his captive audience of egg minions.

"At this rate, I'll seize control of this entire district by day's end!" He jabbed at some buttons, making the guns fire another volley below. "And all of Hell will know the name of Sir Pentious! The second child sinner to become an Overlord of Pentagram City!"

This was Sir Pentious—young genius inventor with an extraordinary talent for weaponry and destruction. The egg creatures were his minions, affectionately dubbed "Egg Bois." He was still monologuing about his inevitable rise to power when a bomb came sailing through his window.

"Hey! Tween-Edgelord! Heads up!"

The explosion tore a gaping hole in the blimp's hull. Through the smoke, a figure leaped inside, landing with theatrical flair.

"Well, well, well! Look what we have here?" The intruder made exaggerated mocking gestures. "A little kid thinks he can play with the big leagues?"

Meet Cherri Bomb—an older teenage cyclops with a talent for explosives and an unhealthy passion for pyromania. She was currently entertaining herself by "battling" this ambitious little inventor.

"Why don't you get this toy of yours off my turf before I smash it?" Cherri tossed another bomb casually, destroying another section of the ship. "More?"

Sir Pentious stammered, his face flushing before he pulled himself together. "Yo-o-ou don't scare me! I'm a rising overlord who doesn't back down from a fight! If it's a fight you want, then it's a fight you'll get!"

"Alright, let's see if this toy can really do what you claim." She grinned wickedly. "The big leagues are a whole different game, kiddo. Our playtime is way past your bedtime!"

They launched into combat.

Meanwhile, at 666 News Station on the other side of the city, Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench sat behind their sleek broadcast desk, covering the post-extermination chaos with their usual brand of morbid enthusiasm. Studio lights gleamed off Katie's perfectly styled hair as graphics of burning buildings and territorial disputes flashed across the screens behind them.

"Welcome back to 666 News, I'm Katie Killjoy—"

"And I'm Tom Trench!" Tom interjected cheerfully, his gas mask head somehow still camera-ready. "Chaos reigns across Pentagram City today as a major turf war rages on the west side!"

"That's right, Tom! After the recent Extermination, prime real estate is now up for grabs!" Katie's grin was all teeth. "Demons all over the Pride Ring are already duking it out for new territory! Complete chaos—and not just here in Pentagram City, but across all major population centers!"

The camera cut to footage of post-extermination mayhem in other cities—explosions, building collapses, and screaming demons scrambling for power.

Tom nodded enthusiastically, shuffling his notes. "That's right, Katie! And it's not just adult sinners getting in on the action. We're seeing unprecedented involvement from child sinners this year, with turf wars breaking out in at least seven districts in the past hour alone!"

"Right you are, Tom! Those little shits waste no time taking what they want." Katie's voice dripped with fake peppiness, her smile never wavering despite the venom in her words.

"Robberies, riots, arson—you name it, those tiny brats are doing it." She gestured dismissively at the monitor. "But hey, this is Hell! When is there not a riot or robbery? Those pea-brained dipshits just make everything worse by adding their juvenile chaos to the mix."

She took a sip from her mug—which was definitely more booze than coffee—before continuing. "I swear, these child sinners get more feral every year. Remember when they at least pretended to have some restraint?"

"Can't say I do, Katie." Tom chuckled, adjusting his headset. "Speaking of which, we've got live footage of a particularly explosive turf war happening downtown right now."

He gestured at the monitor with theatrical flair. "Featuring none other than the pint-sized prodigy 'Sir Pentious'—one of Carmilla Carmine's proteges—and the spunky pyromaniac teen 'Cherri Bomb.'"

The studio screens switched to aerial footage of absolute carnage. The two were going absolutely feral, launching bombs and firing death rays while systematically destroying the surrounding neighborhood. Buildings crumbled, fires raged, and terrified demons fled for their afterlives.

Katie leaned forward, eyes gleaming with barely-concealed boredom at the destruction. "Well, Tom, there goes that district. I'll be genuinely surprised if there's a single building left standing by the time those two tire themselves out."

She examined her nails with affected disinterest. "You know how child sinners are—all that energy and zero impulse control. It's like giving matches to toddlers, except the toddlers are already dead and have access to military-grade weaponry."

"Indeed, Katie! Property damage estimates are already in the millions and climbing by the second!" Tom added, sounding almost impressed.

Katie's smile turned razor-sharp as she pivoted to face the main camera. "In other news, Hell's own Princess Charlie Morningstar is scheduled to make a special announcement about her brand new passion project."

Her tone made it abundantly clear what she thought of that. Her grip on the mug tightened with hairline cracks spiderwebbed across its surface.

"We'll have her live in the studio right after this break, so don't go anywhere, sinners!"

The mug shattered in her hand, shards clattering across the desk as the broadcast cut to commercial—a gaudy fashion ad featuring the latest in demonic couture.

Backstage at the studio, Charlie and Vaggie prepared for Charlie's big television debut. Charlie was buzzing with excitement—her project was about to get real attention! She just knew people would be open to it. She'd even thought about adding a musical number to introduce everything, but Vaggie shut that down immediately, insisting Charlie stick to the script.

"Come on, Vaggie! I know what to say! I just feel like we need to... I don't know, make it sound more exciting!" Charlie gasped, spinning toward her girlfriend. "A song would be the ultimate icebreaker to get people's attention!"

"Life isn't a musical, Charlie." Vaggie's voice was gentle but firm. "Sinners won't take kindly to someone singing cheerfully about their suffering. They might hate you for this."

"Don't worry so much! I've got this under control!" Charlie's optimism was infectious—or would be, if Vaggie wasn't so stressed. "I just thought... you know... connecting through music! Everyone loves music!"

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't think it's that simple." She grabbed Charlie's shoulders, forcing eye contact, and begged her to please follow their prepared talking points.

"Just please follow what we went over." She pulled Charlie closer for emphasis. "And do NOT sing!"

"Okay, fiiiine." Charlie deflated slightly but agreed to stick to the script. "I'll just have to resort to my impeccable improv skills!"

The interview started well enough. Charlie followed the script, explaining her new project—The Happy Hotel, a rehabilitation center for sinners. She shared her vision: finding an alternative to Hell's overpopulation problem without requiring yearly exterminations. She wanted to help sinners find redemption and earn their way to Heaven.

After Charlie finished her pitch, silence filled the studio. Everyone was too shocked by the sheer absurdity to respond.

Charlie, desperate to connect, added earnestly, "Look, every single one of you has something good deep down inside. I know you do!"

Brief pause.

She snapped her fingers. "...Maybe I'm not getting through to you."

Feeling like her message wasn't landing, Charlie did the one thing Vaggie explicitly told her not to do: she started singing and dancing about her hotel. In the background, Vaggie's groan of despair was audible even over the music.

It was... quite a performance. And by performance, that meant Charlie unintentionally insulted every sinner in the Pride Ring through her happy, go-lucky musical number.

Of course, once she finished, the entire studio erupted in laughter. Her redemption idea was considered ridiculous and naive. Whatever minimal respect sinners had for her evaporated instantly—not that she'd had much to begin with.

Katie, barely containing her mirth, asked mockingly, "Why would anyone in the nine circles of Hell give two shits about becoming a better person?" She leaned forward. "Nobody wants to be good just for the sake of it."

Her smile turned predatory. "Plus, there's no proof this experiment will work, or that anyone's dumb enough to participate in such a bogus project."

"That's where you're wrong!" Charlie cut in quickly. "In fact, I already have a client! A quite famous one—Angel Dust!"

Tom Trench interrupted, "The child star?"

Katie's eyebrow rose. "That tween brat will go anywhere if you dangle enough alcohol and drugs in front of him." She smirked at the camera. "Is the princess really so desperate for clients that she's resorted to babysitting?"

"Sure, Angel's young, but he's been really good these last two weeks!" Charlie's voice rose defensively. "He's been staying out of trouble and keeping clean. Besides, he's just a harmless kid—he can't do much damage."

"A harmless kid?" Katie's grin widened as she glanced at her monitor. "You mean the harmless kid who's casually demolishing a city block as we speak?"

The studio screens switched to live footage: Angel Dust, Cherri Bomb, and Sir Pentious going absolutely wild, destroying an entire district. Katie's voice rang with glee as she reported that a new player—the famous child actor Angel Dust—had joined the turf war.

"Oh shit..." Charlie's face went pale.

The interview was officially a disaster. Everyone was laughing at her idea, and her only client was doing the exact opposite of what the hotel represented. Instead of a reformed sinner, they were watching a kid gleefully participating in mass property destruction.

Tom and Katie were having the time of their lives—this kind of on-screen trainwreck would do wonders for their ratings. The project was being declared a failure before it even started.

Katie twisted the knife. "So, how does it feel to be a failure at both babysitting and being a Princess?"

Something in Charlie snapped. "How does it feel to need lipo for your face? You might want to cover up those wrinkles—competing with child actors must be rough when your face looks like Hell's saggiest bag. BITCH!!"

Brief, stunned silence.

Tom made a hasty exit.

Katie's demon form erupted, and she lunged at Charlie.

An all-out brawl exploded between the two women.

Back at the turf war, Angel and Sir Pentious were having an absolute blast duking it out. Both were releasing weeks of pent-up energy in the most destructive way possible.

"So where have you been, anyway?" Cherri asked, tossing Angel another bomb. "I thought you up and died or some shit. Not that I was worried!"

"Don't get ya' panties in a twist." Angel caught the bomb and hurled it at an incoming Egg Boi.

"I've been stayin' at this crappy hotel on the other side of town." He ducked as gunfire whizzed overhead. "Some broads are lettin' me stay rent-free if I play nice."

"Play nice?" Cherri raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, actin' like some goody two-shoes kid. No pranks, no drugs, no booze, no colorful language." Angel's grin was manic. "It's drivin' me insane! All those stuffy rules and zero fun!"

"Ho-ly shit!" Cherri laughed in disbelief.

Angel had two weeks of bottled energy just begging for release, and luckily there was another kid here happy to oblige. Sir Pentious, meanwhile, was trying desperately to impress his obvious crush. He figured if he could take down the famous Angel Dust right now, Cherri would be thoroughly impressed.

"Aren't you worried you'll get in trouble for this?" Cherri asked between explosions.

Angel just shrugged. "What's one little brawl gonna do?"

Back at the news studio, things had escalated dramatically. Charlie and Katie were still going at it like rabid animals while Tom Trench was—quite literally—on fire.

"WHY WON'T ANYONE HELP ME?!" Tom screamed, flailing desperately.

After considerable screaming, property damage, and one very singed news anchor, Charlie and Vaggie were unceremoniously kicked out of the studio.

Later, a black limo traveled across town toward a building with a large, cheerful sign reading "The Happy Hotel."

Inside, the silence was suffocating. Nobody spoke, but the tension was thick. Charlie stared depressingly out the window while Vaggie shot daggers at Angel Dust, who was amusing himself by pressing every button in the limo.

"What the fuck were you DOING?!" Vaggie finally exploded.

Angel didn't even look up. "I was helpin' out a friend. Isn't that a 'redeeming quality'? Helping friends?"

"Helping a friend does NOT involve destroying an entire city block!!" Vaggie's voice cracked with frustration. "Your actions today made the hotel look like a fucking joke!"

Angel snapped back, "What the fuck ya' want me to do?! I got a reputation to maintain! Can you imagine what would happen if people found out I was goin' all goody-goody?"

He crossed his arms defensively. "The hotel's rules are boring, and there's nothin' fun to do. With all this pent-up energy and nowhere to release it, I had to find a way to let it out."

At least he didn't destroy the hotel itself—but that was mostly because he needed somewhere to crash.

"Your reputation?!" Vaggie was nearly vibrating with rage. "What about the hotel's?! Thanks to your little stunt on live TV, no one in Hell will take us seriously! All because of your selfish bullshit!"

Charlie tried to salvage things, her optimism somehow still intact. "Hey, come on. We don't know if it's over yet!" She placed a hand on Vaggie's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "J-just try to relax. It'll be okay!"

She gestured at Angel. "Besides, he's still a kid. We can't be too harsh—he's young and still learning."

"Kids like him could use a spanking or two," Vaggie muttered darkly.

"Ya' might end up on a watch list if ya' not careful," Angel quipped back.

Vaggie let out a low growl, forcing herself to calm down as she sank into her seat. The limo rolled closer to its destination, carrying three very different moods: Charlie's desperate optimism, Vaggie's barely-contained fury, and Angel's nonchalant attitude.

This was going to be a long redemption process.

Chapter Text

They arrived at the front porch of an old multi-story building, where a large sign proclaimed "The Happy Hotel" in faded, cheerful letters.

As they walked inside, they found it in the same sad, depressing state they'd left it in that morning. Dust blanketed every surface, broken furniture littered the lobby, half the facilities weren't working, and the kitchen was completely bare. The hotel was clearly a mess—far from operational.

Charlie and Vaggie were completely exhausted while Angel just felt hungry. Vaggie, feeling a migraine coming on, flopped onto the nearest couch with a groan. Meanwhile, Charlie made her way to a quiet corner to make a phone call.

Angel went searching for something to eat when he stumbled upon a fridge sitting inexplicably in the middle of the lobby floor. He opened it and discovered an old, crushed box of strawberry popsicles. Luckily, there was just one left inside. Angel didn't seem to care that it had melted somewhat—he immediately started eating it.

Charlie tried calling her mom, but the call went straight to voicemail. She left a message, her voice small and tired.

"Hi, Mom. I know I keep calling, and you must be busy... Really busy... But, um, the interview didn't go well. The hotel's kind of a mess, and I don't think sinners will be flooding in like I hoped." She paused, swallowing hard. "I don't know what I'm doing. I'm feeling really lost, and I could use some advice, Mom. I... I think Dad was right about me."

She wiped tears from her face. "Anyway... I have to go now. I really miss you, and I hope to hear from you soon. Love you. Bye."

Charlie hung up and slumped to the floor, ready to wallow in her misery, when suddenly she heard knocking at the door. She frowned, wondering who could possibly be visiting on such short notice—they weren't expecting anyone.

She opened the door hesitantly, and there he stood—a small red deer child right on her front porch. He wore a white dress shirt paired with red suspender shorts and a cute red bowtie. White socks and polished black shoes completed his vintage ensemble.

This wasn't just any kid. This was Alastor, the Radio Demon—the youngest and very first child overlord in all of Pride. Despite being only twelve years old, this deer demon had terrorized the sinners of Pentagram City with his magic and prowess.

"Hell—" Alastor greeted cheerfully before Charlie slammed the door in his face.

She glanced to the side for a split second, then opened it again.

"—o," Alastor continued smoothly before getting the door slammed in his face again.

After shutting the door a second time, Charlie shouted across the lobby, "Vaggieee!! The Radio Demon is at the doooorrr!!"

She turned to her girlfriend frantically. "What should I do?!"

Vaggie jumped to her feet, spear materializing in her hands. "Don't let him in!! He's dangerous, and we are not ready for this."

Charlie took a moment to think, biting her lip... then turned and opened the door anyway.

Alastor strolled in like he owned the place. "Hello there, I'm Alastor!" He grabbed Charlie's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure!"

"Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the television, and I simply couldn't resist! What a performance! Why, I haven't been that entertained since the stock market crash of 1929!"

His grin widened impossibly.

"Hahahahaha, so many orphans in Hell... The streets were absolute chaos—it was like 'Lord of the Flies' meets 'The Hunger Games.' Quite the spectacle!"

Vaggie suddenly stepped between them, spear aimed directly at Alastor's face.

"Stop right there, cabrón hijo de perra!! I know your game, and I'm not gonna let you hurt anyone here!" She thrust the spear forward threateningly. "I don't care if you're a kid—pull any tricks or stunts and I will stab you!"

Alastor just chuckled, utterly unfazed. "Ha! If I really wanted to hurt anyone…"

His form flickered, revealing a glimpse of his true demon nature—antlers extending, eyes going full radio-dial, voodoo symbols crackling in the air around him. "I would have done so already."

Charlie stepped forward nervously. "Sooooo... why are you here, Alastor?"

"I'm here because I want to help!" Alastor's tone was aggressively cheerful.

"Uh... what?" Charlie blinked.

Vaggie and Charlie exchanged glances, both clearly in disbelief. The Radio Demon wanted to help them? There had to be a catch—nobody in Hell offered assistance without an agenda.

"What do you mean by 'help'?" Charlie asked cautiously.

"This ridiculous thing you're trying to do! This hotel!" Alastor gestured grandly. "I want to help you run it."

"Buuut... why?"

Alastor chuckled, spinning his microphone cane. "Hahaha, why does anyone do anything? Sheer, absolute boredom! After seven years away, I'm desperately bored! I have nothing else to occupy my time, so why not try something different?"

His grin turned sly. "Besides, I need a proper comeback debut! A project like this is sure to attract attention!"

Charlie gave him a suspicious side-eye. "So... does this mean you think it's possible to rehabilitate a demon?"

She paused hopefully. "Oooorrrr... maybe you'd like to try it yourself? You know, so you can go to Heaven... and be safe?"

"Pfffftttt... Bwa-hahahahahahahaha!!!!" Alastor burst into genuine laughter, clutching his stomach and doubling over.

He couldn't believe it—the princess actually thought someone like him was looking for redemption! She was even more clueless than he'd expected. What kind of demon did she think he was? Just because he was a child didn't mean he was some helpless individual who needed looking after.

He'd been perfectly fine on his own, thank you very much!

"You misunderstand me, Princess. I'm not looking for redemption—I'm here of my own volition, purely to pass the time!" Alastor wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "I'm here to witness Hell's own princess executing her adorably insane scam, up close and personal!"

"This is not a scam!!" Vaggie jumped in defensively. "Charlie really wants to help people, no matter how much you assholes don't deserve it! If you're just here to mock her, then get out, you little twerp!!"

"Oh, don't mind little old me. I only want to assist you in this endeavor." Alastor's smile never wavered. "If the Princess of Hell truly wants to help us sinners, by all means, go ahead."

His expression turned darker, more sinister. "Use whatever methods or ideas you can conjure to redeem these 'so-called' sinners. And I'll be here watching... Watching as you people attempt to live out this fantasy..."

He clenched his fist theatrically. "Only to have it crushed by the harsh reality that Hell is forever. They've reached the end of the road—there's nowhere else for them to go."

Charlie raised her eyebrows slowly. "Riiiggghhhhttttt..."

"This is going to be such a fun game! And who better to help you than I?" Alastor continued cheerfully, as if he hadn't just delivered a cynical monologue about the futility of her dreams.

While Alastor chatted with Charlie, Angel leaned toward Vaggie and asked, "So, uh... what's up with Smiles over there?" He jerked his thumb casually at the deer demon.

Vaggie couldn't believe Angel had never heard of the Radio Demon—he'd been in Hell longer than she had!

"Wait, you've never heard of him before? You've been here longer than me!"

Angel just shrugged, looking genuinely confused.

"The Radio Demon. One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?"

Another shrug. "Eh, not big on politics."

Vaggie groaned and launched into explanation mode. "The Radio Demon is one of the few child sinners to have a major impact on Pentagram City."

Her voice dropped to something almost ominous. "Decades ago, Alastor manifested out of nowhere and started making waves. He toppled Overlords who'd been dominant for centuries. Then he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell, laughing like it was all just a game. That's when sinners started calling him 'The Radio Demon..' (as lazy as that is)"

She crossed her arms. "Seven years ago, he destroyed an entire district of Pentagram City for no apparent reason. Nobody knows how this kid acquired so much raw power, but one thing's certain: he's an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery, and a violent agent of chaos. The kind we cannot risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased."

Angel scoffed as she finished her dramatic tale. "Ya done?"

He laughed, glancing at Alastor. "He looks like that strawberry popsicle I just ate."

"No way that short-stack caused that disaster seven years ago." He held up his fingers in a pinching gesture, squinting at Alastor through the gap. "He's so tiny and cute it's almost criminal."

Vaggie scoffed right back. "Well, I don't trust him!"

"To be fair, do ya' trust anyone? Anyone at all?" Angel rolled his eyes. "Heck, ya' don't even trust kids like me!"

Vaggie walked over and pulled Charlie aside urgently.

"Charlie, listen to me. You cannot believe this kid! He isn't some innocent child—he's a deal-maker! Pure evil! I don't think he can be redeemed, and he's probably looking for a way to sabotage everything we're trying to do. Like some kind of sick, twisted game!"

She gestured to him. "Not to mention that incident seven years ago! He destroyed a huge chunk of the city for no reason! He may be young, but he's extremely dangerous. We shouldn't even consider entertaining this."

Charlie bit her lip, glancing at Vaggie with conflicted eyes. "I... we don't know that for sure. Look, I know he's bad, and I know he probably doesn't want to change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance!"

She turned to look at Alastor, who was currently inspecting a portrait of the royal family with theatrical interest.

"To have faith that things can be better! How can I turn someone away? I can't. It goes against everything I'm trying to do—everything I believe in." Her voice softened with conviction. "The entire reason I started this hotel in the first place."

Her expression grew more concerned as she watched the small deer demon.

"Plus... I can't just leave him alone. He's still a kid, and Hell is dangerous enough as it is. I can't kick him out just because I'm uncomfortable having him here. As an adult and as a princess, it's my responsibility to look after the vulnerable ones—the ones who are truly helpless in Hell."

She took a deep breath. "I have to look out for them, even if they don't want me to."

Charlie placed her hands on Vaggie's shoulders firmly. "Just... trust me. I can take care of myself!"

Vaggie, seeing that Charlie had made up her mind, gave one final warning. "Charlie, whatever you do, do NOT make a deal with him!"

"Don't worry, I picked up one thing from my dad!" Charlie grinned. "Never take shit from other demons!" With that, she headed over to where Alastor stood.

"Okay, so, Al." She bent down to meet his eye level, hands on her hips. "You're super sketchy, and you clearly see what I'm trying to do here as a joke. But I don't. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better. So I'm accepting your offer to help—on the condition that there are no..."

She gestured at him meaningfully. "Tricks or voodoo strings attached."

"I also won't be making any deals with you. I don't want to take advantage of a kid by pressuring them into something or binding them with a contract. Children should be free to choose what they want to do."

Her expression was earnest. "So Al, you're free to stay and help for as long as you want. No obligations."

Both Angel and Alastor widened their eyes in genuine shock at her words.

An adult who actually gave them freedom of choice? Who the fuck was this princess?

"Sounds fair?" Charlie asked with slight uncertainty.

Alastor recovered quickly, his showman persona snapping back into place. "Fair enough! This is merely an activity to pass the time, after all!"

"Cool beans." Charlie gave an awkward grin and two thumbs up.

Angel snorted from across the room. This was going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

"Hmm hm hmm hmm…" Alastor’s cheerful humming floated through the hotel lobby like a radio tune from a bygone era. Each step of his skip echoed with mirth and mischief as he drank in every cracked wall, every cobweb, every dust-coated dream that lingered in the air.

"Smile, my dear!" he chirped, thrusting his microphone in front of Vaggie’s decidedly unamused face.

"My maman always says, ‘You’re never fully dressed without one!’" His grin widened, devilish and bright enough to light up the dim lobby. "So… where is your hotel staff, hmm?"

Charlie froze, caught between the Radio Demon’s question and Vaggie’s seething glare. Her sheepish smile said it all—this "staff" consisted of exactly one overworked, overprotective girlfriend.

"Oh, you’re really going to need more than that." Alastor’s tone oozed amusement as he adjusted his bow tie, eyes glinting like a showman before curtain rise.

He strolled over to Angel Dust, whose long legs were draped lazily across the sofa. "And you, my effeminate fellow—what talents do you bring to the stage?"

Angel gave him a lazy grin. "I can teach ya how to roll your own customized weed blunt."

A loud record scratch cut through the air.

Alastor’s smile faltered—just slightly.

"No, thank you!" His radio voice cracked just an octave higher than usual, cheerful as ever but clearly edging toward the static of discomfort.

The hotel, if one could even call it that, was depressingly understaffed. Or perhaps more accurately, not staffed at all.

"Well," Alastor said brightly, twirled his mic staff. "I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up."

Neon green magic crackled to life around him, warping the air with radio static and flickering sigils. With one theatrical snap, the decrepit fireplace roared to life—reborn with elegant brickwork and a blazing flame.

And then—

THUD!

Something (or someone) came tumbling out of the freshly refurbished hearth, coughing up soot like a chimney sprite gone rogue.

"Oh ho! What’s this?" Alastor’s eyes gleamed as he approached the wriggling, ash-covered lump. With a dramatic lift and a couple of brisk shakes, the soot fell away to reveal—

A tiny cyclops girl, petite and wide-eyed, with a bob haircut and a 1950s maid uniform miraculously untouched by the chaos of her entrance. Sixteen, maybe? Young enough to still have that spark of innocence—and just old enough to weaponize it.

"This is Niffty!" Alastor declared, hoisting her like showing off a prized toy. "She’s one of my very good friends! And she cleans!"

He dropped her without ceremony.

"Hi, I’m Niffty!" she squeaked, bouncing back to her feet. "It’s so nice to meet you all! It’s been forever since I’ve made new friends!"

Her single bright eye darted among them. "Only girls here? No bad boys? No men at all??"

"Uhhh… what?" Charlie blinked, caught between concern and curiosity.

But Niffty was already spinning circles around them like a manic pink tornado. "Oooh boy! This place is filthy! It really needs a lady’s touch!"

Before anyone could respond, she caught a roach mid-scurry, crushed it with a squeak of disgust, and continued, "Which is weird because you’re all ladies—no offense—but seriously, how did you let this happen?"

Then, with a sudden shout that could rival Alastor’s own theatrics, she summoned a feather duster from thin air. "MUST CLEEEAAANNN MEEESSSSS!!!"

A blur of pink and motion followed. Dust clouds vanished. Cobwebs screamed their last.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel could only stare as their new maid tore through the room like a caffeinated comet.

Meanwhile, Alastor stood proudly by the fireplace, hands on his hips, grinning ear to ear like the puppet master of a grand debut.

"Ahhh," he hummed, eyes twinkling with delight. "Now this is entertainment."

Static fizzed around him again as he raised his hand for another summoning. "Now then… time to call in my second recruit."

The radio crackled ominously. Somewhere in the air, a faint jazz tune began to play.

"Hah! Read ‘em and weep, suckers! Full Ho—"

The boast died mid-word.

Reality cracked. Cards scattered into glowing embers as voodoo symbols spiraled through the smoky air, swallowing the world in a whirl of crimson and gold. When the lights faded, the poker table, the smoke, the crowd—all gone.

"—aaaa? What the fuck is this?!"

The voice came out hoarse and outraged. The figure blinked against the new surroundings—the velvet-red walls, the faint hum of static, the too-cheerful tune echoing somewhere in the distance. And then his gaze landed on one particular smiling deer demon.

A low, feral growl rumbled from his throat. "YOU!"

With all the fury of someone ripped from the brink of a jackpot, the cat demon stomped forward, wings flaring wide.

He was an eyeful: sleek black-and-white fur, mismatched eyes that glowed faintly under the lamplight, and a Vegas aesthetic so sharp it could cut glass—top hat, bow tie, suspenders, and a pair of battered cards patterned ears. Seventeen, just barely a "kid" by Hell’s half-baked standards, but with the energy of a washed-up gambler three decades past his prime.

"Ah! Husker, my good friend!" Alastor sang out, voice syrupy-sweet. "So glad you could make it!"

Husk’s tail lashed behind him. "Don’t you ‘Husker’ me, you son of a bitch! I was about to win the whole damn pot!" He waved furiously at the empty air where his winnings used to be.

"Good to see you too!" Alastor’s grin was as radiant as ever—if anything, it got wider.

Husk groaned, dragging his claws down his face. "Let me guess—you dragged me here for another one of your stupid ‘games,’ didn’t you?"

"Why yes!" Alastor chirped, rocking back on his heels. "I’m playing a delightful new one, and I needed a few extra hands. So, naturally, I took the liberty of… volunteering you!"

Husk blinked. "Are you shitting me?!"

Alastor blinked right back, feigning innocence. "Hmm… nope! Don’t believe I am!"

"You can’t just yank me outta nowhere for your weird little side projects!" Husk snapped, gesturing wildly. "I ain’t your emotional support bartender-slash-babysitter!"

"Of course not!" Alastor replied cheerfully. "You’re my playmate!"

Husk’s expression screamed, I hate it here. "I’m not playing your fucking game."

The Radio Demon’s grin faltered—only slightly, but enough to chill the air by a few degrees. His microphone cane crackled faintly as the static deepened, the brightness in his voice dipping into a lower, distorted register. For a moment, it looked like the smile might crack.

Then, with a sudden exhale and a theatrical clap of hands, the cheer was back. "Well then! If you won’t play, you can help me man the front desk!"

"What?! Hell no! I ain’t doing that either!" Husk threw up his paws, feathers ruffling. "That sounds like work! And not even decent work—this place sucks!"

Charlie flinched, her shoulders drooped. Vaggie, on the other hand, looked ready to commit a murder.

"Oh, my, such harsh words!" Alastor tutted. "Perhaps we just need to sweeten the deal."

With a flourish of his hand, the air shimmered—and suddenly a corner of the lobby transformed.

A full bar unfolded from thin air, styled like something out of a prohibition-era speakeasy fused with a haunted casino. Snake motifs slithered along the bar frame, skeletons grinned from behind polished bottles, and flickering candles cast eerie green light over walls adorned with glowing card suits.

A flashing Jackpot! sign buzzed above one corner, while a neon Beelzejuice sign sizzled on the other.

A sleek golden placard on the counter spelled it out in elegant cursive: Concierge.

Because of course that’s what Alastor would call a bar.

"See?" Alastor purred, voice dripping charm. "A proper workspace for a gentleman such as yourself."

"Uh-huh." Husk eyed the bar, unimpressed. "Still looks like Hell."

"Naturally!" Alastor beamed. "It is!"

A soft pop echoed as a bottle of cheap booze materialized on the counter with an inviting clink.

"Don’t worry, my friend," Alastor said, leaning casually against the bar. "I can make your working conditions much more… agreeable."

Husk stared at the bottle, then back at Alastor’s faux-pout—the exaggerated sad eyes, the slightly trembling lower lip.

"What? You think you can buy me with a cute face and some cheap booze?!"

A pause.

"…Well, you can!" Husk snatched the bottle and took a long swig before flopping onto the stool behind the bar like he’d been there forever.

Alastor clasped his hands together in delight, static crackling in the air. "Marvelous! I knew you’d come around!"

As Husk downed the rest of the drink with a growl and a muttered curse, Alastor turned toward the others, his grin bright as a spotlight.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey! No!" Vaggie’s voice cut through

She stormed up to the bar, arms slicing through the air in furious, cross-like motion. "No bar! No alcohol! Do you hear me?!"

Her glare could’ve melted steel.

"None of you—" she pointed a finger at each of them like she was scolding toddlers "—except Charlie—are of legal age! You’re all underage! Which makes this bar about a thousand times worse!"

She threw her arms up. "This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of—of—underage party frat house!"

Before she could wind up for another sentence, Angel Dust launched himself across the room like a pink missile.

"SHUT UP! SHUT! UP!" he shrieked, tackling her mid-rant. He pointed to the bar with all his arms. "We are keeping this!"

He then scrambled upright and strutted toward the bar with all the grace of a tipsy flamingo, his lower arms already fiddling with a cocktail shaker that absolutely wasn’t his.

"Hey there, handsome~" he purred, batting his lashes at Husk.

"Go fuck yourself," Husk muttered without missing a beat, eyes glued to his drink.

Angel leaned over the counter, chin propped on his hand. "Awww, don’t be like that~ How about pourin’ a drink for a fellow kid sinner~~?"

Husk didn’t even look up. He just raised one paw and flipped him off with the world’s most tired expression.

Charlie practically teleported between them, hands clasped, eyes shimmering like twin spotlights.

"Oh my gosh! Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You’re going to love it here!" she said, grabbing Husk’s hand to shake like it was the best day of her afterlife.

Husk blinked, utterly unprepared for the sheer intensity of princess-level joy radiating off her. "…I lost the ability to love the day I was born," he deadpanned, taking another swig.

Alastor materialized beside them, cheerful as always. "So…" His grin widened to that dangerous, too-perfect crescent. "What do you think?"

Charlie beamed, hands clasped in front of her chest. "This is amazing!"

Even Vaggie crossed her arms and muttered, "It’s… okay," which, from her, was basically an okay.

Alastor’s eyes gleamed crimson. "Splendid! Then let’s make it official!"

With a devilish grin, he twirled his microphone cane, static crackling at his fingertips. His suit shimmered into a tailored waistcoat and top hat as the first notes of an old-time radio jingle began to hum through the air.

"You have a dream! You wish to tell! And it's just laughable. But, hey, what the hell?"

He spun across the lobby, magic flooding every inch of the building. Wallpaper peeled away and reformed into rich velvet red. Cracked tiles fused back together in perfect patterns. Chandeliers lit up one by one, casting golden light over a room that was, for the first time ever, alive.

Shadowy figures slithered from the fireplace, morphing into musicians with glowing eyes and old-fashioned instruments. A spectral jazz band struck up a tune while more shadows took on the shapes of dancers, spinning across the marble floor.

Charlie joined them instantly, spinning in delight as if the music was a dream come true. Vaggie, however, was less charmed—her arms crossed as she fended off a shadow trying to pull her into a waltz.

Angel lounged against the bar, sipping his drink while the world went insane around him. Husk just flipped off every shadow that came within five feet. Meanwhile, Niffty was thriving, twirling in the chaos, dusting the piano as she danced across it.

Alastor threw his head back mid-spin, laughter echoing like a symphony of static and violins.

Yes. This was what he’d wanted. Music. Laughter. Mayhem. A place to call his own twisted little stage.

But as he spun, a thought wormed its way into his mind.

"Happy Hotel"… What a dreary, uninspired name. No sinner worth their salt would check into a place that sounded like a children’s cartoon. He needed something catchier. Sharper.

Something that sang.

He lifted his microphone, lips parting, voice ready to name his new playground. "Hazbin Ho—"

BOOM!

The wall exploded.

Dust and debris rained down as everyone screamed or swore. The music halted mid-note, the band scattering into ribbons of shadow.

And standing amid the smoke—was someone who absolutely did not belong in Hell’s newest hotel.

Chapter Text

Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor bolted outside to see what the hell was going on and figure out what caused the explosion.

They spotted a blimp floating up in the sky—the same one that'd been all over the news earlier. It was Sir Pentious's blimp.

The blimp's main window swung open, and out popped the little snake kid. "Hah! Well, well, well. Look who finally showed up after seven years! Nice to see you again, Alastor!"

"Hmm… you seem familiar. Do I know you? I can't seem to remember." Alastor tilted his head, playing dumb.

Sir Pentious got pissed at being dismissed like that. "Oh! So that's how you wanna play!"

He ducked back inside the blimp's control room and yelled, "Maybe you'll remember after you get a taste of—"

He yanked down a lever, and suddenly this massive gun was aimed right at the hotel crew.

"Take this! You stupid deer!" Sir Pentious shouted, getting ready to fire.

Just as the gun was about to go off, Alastor snapped his fingers real quick. This creepy-ass portal from another dimension burst open, and out came tentacles and shadow demons. They latched onto Sir Pentious's ship and started shaking it around like a toy. Sir Pentious was getting tossed around inside the blimp with his egg-bois, and some of them were literally getting scrambled from the impact.

Tentacles burst into the blimp and started grabbing Sir Pentious and his eggs. They pulled Sir Pentious and his eggs outside, dropping them right in front of the hotel crew, while the other tentacles dragged the whole blimp down toward the portal just before it snapped shut.

Everyone went dead silent for a second, just staring at Alastor and processing the fact that some seriously powerful magic had just been whipped out by a twelve-year-old kid.

Sir Pentious snapped out of it first. "Hey, that's my blimp! Give it back!"

"Ha! Winners keepers, losers weepers," Alastor said, sticking his tongue out like a brat.

"Why, you—!" Sir Pentious lunged at Alastor, and they started throwing hands right there on the ground, wrestling and punching each other.

Charlie and Vaggie rushed in to break it up. Charlie grabbed Sir Pentious while Vaggie got hold of Alastor. They pulled the boys apart, keeping a tight grip so they wouldn't go at it again.

"Hey! Hey! Heeyy!" Charlie said, trying to get both boys to chill. "No fighting! You guys should be getting along, not beating each other up!"

"He started it!" Pentious shouted, pointing his finger at Alastor.

Alastor, trying to wiggle free from Vaggie's grip, shot back, "Did you forget who pointed a gun in our faces first?"

"I wouldn't have had to if you'd just remembered me!" Pentious yelled.

Alastor kept struggling against Vaggie. "Your face is so forgettable! How could I remember it in the first place?"

Pentious hissed and tried to jump at Alastor again, but Charlie stepped in and yanked him back.

"Stop fighting! Stop fighting!" Charlie yelled.

"We are going inside, sitting down, and you two are gonna think about what you did!" She kept going, "And then we're having an apology circle, and both of you are saying sorry to each other!"

Before the two boys could say anything, Vaggie cut in. "March! You two are already in a ton of trouble! Inside! Now!" she said, dragging both Alastor and Pentious back into the hotel.

"Oooooo! Someone's in trouble," Angel said with a little smirk as he followed them inside. Husk rolled his eyes and headed in too, with Niffty perched on his shoulder.

Inside the hotel, everyone was hanging out by the fireplace in the lobby. Alastor and Sir Pentious sat across from each other in a circle, death-glaring at one another. Both refused to say a word, leaving everyone else sitting in awkward silence.

Charlie decided to break the ice. "Okaayy... so... looks like we've got two friends here who need to say sorry to each other!"

"I have nothing to say to him!" Sir Pentious said, crossing his arms.

Alastor fiddled with his fingers. "I feel the same. I've got nothing to say to him."

Charlie knelt down and wrapped her arms around both boys' shoulders, pulling them closer together. "Come on, don't be like that!"

She hugged them tighter.

"It's obvious you two are friends and know each other! You guys really should be getting along instead of fighting."

She looked at Alastor. "It's wrong for you to make fun of Sir Pentious. He's just trying to reconnect with you as a friend."

She paused. "Also! You kinda stole his blimp... even though he was attacking us with it. Still kinda wrong to just take it."

Charlie then looked over at Sir Pentious.

"Pentious, you started the fight with Alastor both times, and you attacked us and blew up part of the hotel. You gotta take some responsibility too. Alastor was just looking out for us with that big gun you were gonna fire."

"All right, you two, time to make up. Go ahead and shake hands and say you're sorry," Charlie told both boys firmly.

The two stayed quiet and wouldn't look at each other until Pentious finally turned to Alastor. "I'm sorry for attacking the hotel..."

Alastor paused, then finally looked at Sir Pentious. "I guess with your forgettable face, I sometimes forget my fellow child sinner comrade..."

"Annnnddd...?" Charlie pushed Alastor to keep going.

"And—" Alastor said, then suddenly blurted out, "I'm still keeping the blimp! I may have been gone for seven years, but I know your mother wouldn't let you play with it whenever you wanted!"

"You can get it back when Carmilla comes to grab it!" he yelled, stomping his foot.

When Alastor said that, Sir Pentious let out a scream. He'd be in huge trouble if he didn't bring the blimp home! He'd taken it out without asking! His mom was gonna kill him, then wait for him to regenerate before killing him again!

Alastor burst out laughing. "Ha! Looks like you're getting into some trouble~"

Charlie jumped in before another fight could break out. "Oookay! Looks like you both made up! I'm gonna order dinner for everyone!"

She turned to Pentious. "Pentious, I need your mom's number. Gotta call her and let her know you're okay and that she can come pick you up from the hotel."

"But—" Pentious tried to argue.

Vaggie shut that down. "No buts! There's no way we're letting a kid like you wander around the city alone! We're calling your mom to tell her what you did!"

"Act like a man and face the consequences head-on!"

Charlie tried to comfort Pentious, who was looking more and more depressed. "Don't worry, I'll do my best to talk to your mom and see if she can go easy on you."

Later that night, Charlie ordered pizza for the kids, except for Angel Dust, who insisted on having a small salad because, in his words, "Pizza is nothin' but calories on bread, and I need to watch ma' figure."

Charlie had called Carmilla earlier, and she'd said she'd swing by to pick up her son once her meetings were done. Charlie told Carmilla not to worry—Pentious was in good hands and she was making him dinner at her place. Carmilla thanked her a bunch and said she'd be there ASAP.

It was getting pretty late, and the kids, except for Husk, were starting to crash. It was about time to get them to bed, and it was clear they couldn't stay up much longer. Charlie was getting a bit worried since Sir Pentious was still around, and she and Vaggie really needed to get the kids settled soon.

Just as Charlie was about to call Carmilla again, a limo rolled up to the hotel's front gate. Everyone leaned out to check it out, and Pentious spotted his mom's car right away. Charlie gave a nod to Razzle and Dazzle, signaling them to open the gate and let the car through. The car pulled onto the hotel's property and parked right on the front porch.

Then this woman got out of the car. She was tall, gray-skinned with a beehive horn hairstyle and, weirdly enough, pointed ballerina legs. She was dressed in black waist-length stockings and white ballerina shoelaces.

She walked up to Charlie and gave her a small bow. "Princess Charlotte, I'm Carmilla Carmine, and I'm Sir Pentious's mother," she said in a professional tone.

"I'd like to personally apologize for whatever my son did in your presence."

"He's still pretty young and therefore pretty reckless and wild. Please don't hold it against him. If there's any compensation we need to talk about, I'll personally negotiate on his behalf."

Charlie waved her arms in front of Carmilla. "Oh no! No! No! There's no need for anything! It's just kids being kids! I don't need anything from you or your son!"

"I just want him to get home safe! It's dangerous for a kid like him to be out there on his own! Just get him home safe, and we're good!" Charlie said with a reassuring smile.

Carmilla paused for a second, then said, "You're very kind, princess. You should be careful with that. Demons won't think twice about taking advantage of it."

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep that in mind." Charlie appreciated it. "And please, call me Charlie. It's way more comfortable that way."

"Very well then, Charlie. It's getting late, and I'd like to pick up my son now," Carmilla replied.

Charlie suddenly realized they were still standing outside. "Oh! Sure, come on in!" Charlie yelled for Vaggie, "Vaggie! Pentious's mom is here! Could you bring him to the front door?"

A moment later, Vaggie led Pentious by the hand to the front door where his mother was waiting. There was this awkward silence between them before Carmilla rushed in to hug her son. He looked surprised but hugged her back automatically.

Eventually they both let go, but then they noticed Carmilla's expression shift from relief to pure rage.

She started scolding him in Spanish. "¡Serpiente tonta! ¿Sabes lo preocupada que estaba? ¡Estás en un lío! ¡Espera a llegar a casa!"

She kept chewing him out as she dragged him out the door and into the car. Vaggie winced a little since she understood every word.

As Carmilla was about to get in the car, Charlie spoke with her briefly. "Please don't be too mad at him. He's really just a lonely kid who doesn't have many friends. He just wants some kids his age to hang out with."

"I see... I'll keep that in mind. You really do care for him, princess," Carmilla said after thinking about it.

"Of course! I care about all my people, especially kids. It's my duty as princess to look out for them!" Charlie replied with determination.

"I'd like to add that Pentious is free to visit the hotel anytime. It'd be nice if Alastor and Angel had a friend to play with."

Carmilla paused. "Thank you. I'll consider this offer. In return, you can keep the blimp. My son attacked you with it anyway, and it's your right to keep it."

"Oh nononono! We can't keep that! It's way too much!" Charlie tried to refuse.

Carmilla raised her hand. "Please. I insist. This'll be a good lesson for my son about being irresponsible with weapons of mass destruction and needing to be responsible for them."

She insisted it was no big deal, though she also knew that none of the hotel guests had a clue how to operate a blimp. For them, it was basically just a huge balloon decoration.

"And on top of that, for taking care of my son, I'll owe you one favor. A favor that can be done within my limits and my willingness for the task. With the added clause that it won't upset the balance of Hell or put my family in danger, I'll try to fulfill the favor as best as I can."

Charlie stared at Carmilla with wide eyes. A freaking overlord just casually offered her a favor to use just because she looked after her son? Was she missing something here?

Carmilla reached out her hand. "So, do we have a deal?"

"Ahh! No! No, no! There's no need for a deal! No handshake! Just having your thanks is more than enough!" Charlie waved her hand, turning down Carmilla's offer.

Carmilla kept her hand out, giving Charlie this questioning look with a raised eyebrow.

"Very well then. We'll have an informal deal. I'll still owe you a favor, and you can cash it in anytime." Carmilla then let her hand drop to her side.

"But be warned, princess, not everyone in Hell can be reasoned with. Sometimes you gotta do the things you hate to protect the ones you love." Carmilla gave Charlie some advice.

"There'll be times when fighting back might be the better option than being a 'good person' or 'taking the high road.' You need to learn that Hell doesn't take kindness lightly."

Charlie stood there quietly, really chewing over everything Carmilla had just said.

Carmilla spoke up again. "It's getting late. I should get my son home and into bed now. Thank you so much for your time today."

"Oh! No problem! It was kinda hectic for me too, but I managed to get through it," Charlie replied.

Carmilla opened the car door and smiled. "Good night, princess. I hope to hear from you soon."

She got in the car and closed the door. The car started up and took off from the hotel driveway.

Charlie watched the car leave through the hotel gates before heading back inside. Vaggie stood by the door, wrapping her arms around Charlie to comfort her.

Charlie glanced over at the kids who were starting to doze off. "Well! Looks like it's bedtime! Come on everyone, let's get you to your rooms."

As Charlie and Vaggie walked the children upstairs to their rooms, none of them noticed that Alastor had released some of his power across the hotel. From the outside, it looked like a massive blimp had just materialized on one side of the hotel.

Then, out of nowhere, a lightning bolt struck "The Happy Hotel" sign, transforming it into "The Hazbin Hotel."

Chapter Text

“Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven.”

A beautiful illustration is shown; depicting a beautiful kingdom in the sky that shines with golden gates protecting the citizens there. The image suddenly shifts to reveal that the gorgeous realm has come to be known as Heaven. The kingdom is a magnificent place made entirely of pure light.

“It was ruled by beings of Pure light, Angels that worshiped good and shielded all from evil.”

A few balls of light were seen soaring around the kingdom before landing on an empty spot and revealing themselves to be angels. These angels, unlike other angels, are ancient entities who have lived since the beginning of time and do not have a typical humanoid form. Instead, it combines elements of earthly creatures like feathers and eyeballs with physical or abstract items like fire and metallic rings.

“Lucifer was one of these angels. He was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for All of creation. But he was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt his way of thinking was dangerous to the order of their world.”

The scene suddenly transforms to a white silhouette of Lucifer, who is joyfully creating fireworks and flying around, releasing creation magic as he does so. He appears to be having a great time and doing something he loves. The scene then shifts to Lucifer being reprimanded by a slew of towering silhouettes representing Heaven's elders.

“So, he watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Adam and Lilith, equals as the first of Mankind.”

The illustration then depicts Lucifer watching from afar as the other angels of Heaven toiled to create the planet Earth and its inhabitants. With a wave of their hands, the angels gathered the dust and made the first humans, Adam and Lilith.

“But, despite this, Adam demanded control, and Lilith refused to submit to his will. She fled the Garden.”

Two human silhouettes are then displayed, one male and one female. The male silhouette, Adam, appears to be demanding something from the female silhouette, Lilith. Lilith then raised her arm, rejecting Adam. Next, Lilith is seen fleeing from Adam and the Garden of Eden.

“Drawn in by her fierce independence, Lucifer found her, and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love.”

The following scene showed Lilith crying by the river when the white silhouette of Angel Lucifer appeared in front of her and took her hand. The two silhouettes are shown looking at each other lovingly.

“Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the Fruit of Knowledge to Adam's new bride, Eve, who gladly accepted.”

After that, the scene changes to show Lilith and Eve, Adam's new bride, in the garden beneath a big tree. Then, between the two women, a snake materialized and changed back into Lucifer. Lucifer then offered Eve a brilliant red fruit, which she eagerly accepted.

“But this gift came with a curse. For with this single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven worked to maintain was shattered.”

The picture then depicts the rise of dark tentacles from the darkness below, which were able to ensnare the Earth. Red eyes opened on the screen as the darkness engulfed it. It is shown that although the Angels attempted to fix the earth, it was too late. The darkness has now broken and contaminated the planet.

“As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucifer and his love into the dark pit he had created, never allowing him to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucifer lost his will to dream.”

After that, the scene depicts Lucifer and Lilith plummeting into the shadows, which is where the evil they unleashed came from. Lucifer appeared depressed and ashamed, his creation magic fading away along with his hope. Then he left, heartbroken and dejected.

“But Lilith thrived, empowering demonkind with her voice and songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power.”

Lilith is then shown to be rising and prospering. Musical notes can be seen while she sings to inspire the sinners. The dark, lifeless pit in which she and Lucifer were casted, blossomed into a vibrant metropolis. Then, as Hell's population grows, more and more demons appear on the scene.

“Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an Extermination, to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them.”

The scene subsequently shifted to Heaven, where an angel with six wings gave a remorseful look before another angel with horns and golden wings flew in front of her and led an army of flying angels with spears down to Hell to exterminate the sinners.

“But Lilith's hope remained. And her dream was passed down to their precious daughter, the Princess of Hell.”

In the last scene, Charlie is depicted as a regal figure amidst the flaming landscapes of Hell, holding a powerful heart in her hands.

“And that’s the Story of Hell,” Charlie wraps up, glancing at her audience with a satisfied smile.

It is then revealed that Vaggie, Alastor, Husk, and Niffty are the members of the audience. It turns out that Charlie has been sharing her story with the kids and Vaggie all along, and the illustrations and scenes shown were actually from her storybook. They're all gathered in the hotel lobby, lounging on the sofas. Charlie has her own spot on one sofa, while the others are spread out around her, like it's story time.

After a moment of silence falls over the kids as Charlie puts her book down, Angel interrupts, “So, ya’ sayin’ that thanks to your daddy, this hellhole exists? And you are supposed to be some kinda’ of saviour for us??”

“No! That’s not what I meant! I mean—, as a princess I suppose to help you all—, and—” Charlie fumbles over her words as she is suddenly accused of having a savior complex.

Vaggie chimes in, “Hey! This is not what Charlie meant! She is just telling a story from a book given to her by her parents.”. Vaggie continues to stand up for Charlie. “Her parents shared their beautiful dreams with her, and she chose to help all of you! You should be grateful for it.”

Angel retorts angrily, “Grateful!? That story painted her as some kinda’ saviour and that helpin’ us is just a way to fulfill her destiny or somethin’!”

“I’m with Angel on this one; that story does seem kind of fishy. It really made your parents look like the heroes, while Adam and Heaven came off as the villains,” Husk added. “I've been around long enough to see that this kind of story really only shows one side in a good light.”

Angel joins in, "Yeah! Like a divorce! They always tellin’ lies to their kids to make the other one look bad.”

"Parents always tell lies in their story to make them look good." Niffty adds, "They always lie and trick their kids into doing stuff for them."

To everyone's surprise, Alasor also chimes in, “ I am also in agreement with the rest of my fellow child sinners, sometimes there is one parent that is so bad, you think of murdering them from time to time. Ha!”. Then laugh tracks can be heard from him.

He also mentions, “They either prefer to deceive the good parent or mislead the child for their own advantage. They will also use their child in whatever way that pleases them.”

“Yeah! Parents sucks!” Niffty shouts out.

After listening to the children's complaints, Charlie and Vaggie both became quiet. Charlie really doesn't have the words for this. It's clear that adults, particularly their parents, in life, have treated them poorly, but they had no idea it was this bad. While the kids are still chatting away, Charlie stands up from her seat, with Vaggie trailing behind her, and heads over to the nearest window to gaze outside.

“Charlie?” Vaggie asks with a hint of worry. “You okay?”

Charlie pauses for a moment, then looks back at Vaggie. “I'm fine. Just... thinking, ya' know? Family stuff.”

“The kids got to you, huh?” Vaggie takes a guess. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, they’re just talking without really knowing what’s going on.”

“That’s not it, Vaggie. I really messed up! Those kids clearly had a hard life with horrible parents, but here I am, just showing off my amazing ones and all the love we share,” Charlie says, waving her hands around anxiously. “I didn’t even consider how they might feel when I shared that story.”

Vaggie puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder and offers her a reassuring smile. “Hey... You didn’t know they would react like that. If anything, you are just trying to cheer them up.”

“I know that the exterminations have been hard for you, and that story seems to make you feel a little better. You want the kids to feel a bit better too; you just want to share your story with them.” Vaggie gives her a comforting nod.

Charlie offers her girlfriend a little smile. “Yeah... I just thought I could help them keep their minds off of things, you know… I had no idea that the story makes it seem like I'm this princess just there to help them fulfill a destiny."

“That’s how they see it, but it’s not how you do.” Vaggie says to Charlie.

“They've seen so much that it's hard for them to view any adult positively. Sometimes, nice stories can really get under their skin, and they'll end up saying some not-so-nice things about them.”

Vaggie then meets Charlie's gaze. “Charlie, you are fulfilling a destiny. But it’s a destiny you chose—a destiny because you truly care about your people and want to genuinely help them.”

“Don’t let anyone else think otherwise; you’re going to do great things, not just because you’re a princess, but because you’re an amazing, wonderful, kind woman. Honestly, I can't imagine being with anyone else.”

Charlie gets a little emotional and wraps her arms around Vaggie for a hug. “Thank you so much, Vaggie! You always know what to say. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Vaggie gives her a warm hug in return. “How are you feeling now?”

Charlie lets go of her hug and says, “A bit better…..”

She takes a moment to pause. “Vaggie, do you really think the kids had a point? That is, my story might be... you know... a little... kind of... exaggerated...?”

Vaggie bit her lips, looking a bit uncertain. “I don’t know, Charlie...this is something you need to talk with your parents about.” She then asks, “Did you hear from your mom yet?”

Charlie just shakes her head, looking a bit dismayed.

Vaggie winces slightly and asks, “Oof… how long has it been now?”

“Not that long, only...seven....years, off doing something important, I'm sure!” Charlie responds without making eye contact with Vaggie.

“But, this kingdom was something she really cared about.”

She takes a quick glance over at her window. Outside, there is a view of Pentagram City, the main city on the Pride Ring. It's on fire, as usual, and there's a lot of gunfire and sinners screaming outside. It's a city full of depravity and sin, but Charlie still loves it all the same; it’s her kingdom, her people, after all.

She then says, “Something I care about.”

“Well, at least you aren't alone.” Vaggie says to Charlie with a comforting smile.

Charlie then glances over at Vaggie. “I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work.”

Vaggie takes Charlie's hands and says, “It will. I have faith in you.”

The two share a peaceful moment until Angel Dust suddenly yells for them from the TV area. “Hey! Princess! Naggy Vaggie! Get over here, quick! Smiles got something to show ya’!”

Chapter Text

“Well, hello there, you poor lost Sinners! Do you like blood, violence, and weird, gross sex stuff? Of course you do; that's why you're in Hell!”

The scene turns static, then snaps back to life, showing video footage of one sinner stabbing another with a knife, just before Alastor steps in to grab their attention. The video footage is rather shaky, indicating that it is held by inexperienced hands. It also shows that the person behind the camera is quite short, as most of the shots are taken at waist level.

“But what would you say if I told you there was a place to stay that had none of that?”

The video goes on to show the two sinners glaring at him with anger and hatred. The camera pulls back, showing the amount of destruction spread across the entire area. Craters are all around, everything's on fire, and the buildings are in ruins. While Alastor keeps talking in the video, more and more sinners start to emerge from their hiding spots, looking like they're ready to pounce on him.

A few sinners leap towards the camera, ready to make an attack on Alastor, and then suddenly, the whole screen goes static.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a place where you can find redemption so that you can go to Heaven!”

The scene shifts, and we get a glimpse of the front of the Hazbin Hotel from the outside. The camera is angled up in a bit of an awkward way, kind of like a little kid craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the top of a really tall building. Next, the camera pan and tilt down to the hotel’s front entrance, capturing the sign and the front door.

The footage in the whole video is still pretty shaky.

“Founded five days ago by the Princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar!”

Now, Charlie is on camera. Because Charlie is way taller than Alastor and the video is filmed from a child's viewpoint, it creates an interesting illusion that Charlie is towering over everything, almost like a giant. She gives a little wave to the camera, and then Angel Dust pops into the frame, stepping right in front and blowing a kiss at it.

“Come place your fate in this crazy lady's hand!”

The scene shifts once more, now featuring Charlie in an interview with Katie Killjoy. Charlie is doing his best to sell her on the hotel, but Katie seems completely uninterested, casually taking a smoke break as she talks.

“As she ignores whatever crazy issue she has by trying to fix you instead!”

And so, after a scene change, there is a close-up of a child's hands holding a stack of photos to share with everyone.

The first photo shows Charlie with her back turned, looking at a corkboard that's packed with a redemption plan and some playful drawings. It looks like she's getting ready for her next redemption activity. The corkboard, however, is a mess of strings and notes, giving off a feeling that she’s piecing together a conspiracy rather than just planning an activity.

Alastor then moves to the next photo, revealing a shot of Charlie in tears, turned away from her father, who is facing the other way under a spotlight.

Finally, Alastor pulls out the photo from the bottom of the stack and turns it over for the camera to see. It's a photo of Charlie presenting her plans in a PowerPoint to a crowd of sinners who look pretty confused. The photo really shows her eyes twitching, too.

“Here we offer fun things, such as somewhat functional staff.”

The scene changes, and the shot is now at the hotel's front door. The camera then tracks into the hotel as the front door opens and Alastor, behind the camera, steps inside. When Alastor says, “Fun things,” out of nowhere, a shadowy minion appears right in front of the camera. It's holding this huge cardboard sign that says "Fun Things" in bright yellow, and it's all doodled up around the edges.

Razzle and Dazzle are zipping around, flying by as they clean the hotel. The camera shifts over to the bar area, showing the bartender, Husk, and Niffty hanging out there. Husk, clearly having had one too many, just passed out on the bar table, his face hitting the counter with a thud.

“and 24-hour pest control.”

Niffty, the hotel maid, zips around Husk's unconscious body as she tries to stab and chase after a bug. She then dashes off screen, trying to catch the bug.

“Custom rooms,”

The scene shifts to a toilet, where red eyes on the wall are staring right at it. So, basically, anyone using this toilet is going to have an audience watching them.

Alastor is also trying to hold up another cardboard sign that says ‘Custom rooms’ right in front of the camera. This time, he’s actually holding the sign himself, which makes it look really close to the screen. Also, the camera looks really shaky since he's just holding it with one hand.

“And just look at this boring old parlor! There is literally nothing to do here!”

The scene shows Angel Dust lounging on the sofa in the hotel parlor, looking completely bored. He's just lying there, looking blank, with his phone resting on his chest and a little drool escaping from his mouth. He’s definitely bored, and right now, nothing online seems to grab his attention.

Then suddenly, a support beam crashes down near KeeKee, giving the demon cat quite the scare before it dashes away. This noise jolts Angel awake, and he finds Alastor there, holding a camera.

“Enjoy a fun conversation with our only resident here.”

Alastor walks over and leans in close to Angel's face. When Angel hears that he's the only hotel resident, he just flips Alastor off.

“Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel!”

The scene changes, and Alastor is now standing in front of the parlor fireplace. Alastor is all static, and you can hardly see his face on the screen. He is holding up a large sign that says, ‘WOW!’ Alastor then pulls out this drawing he did of the hotel, and the camera zooms in on it. The drawing is a little rough around the edges, but that's expected from a 12-year-old. It’s really vibrant though, packed with stickers and various shades of red.

“Your last desperate attempt at salvation starts here!”

The final scene gives one last look at the hotel building from the outside, wrapping up with a shot of a doodle-filled drawing that says, ‘Call now or don’t. I don’t care! Our phones don’t work!!' right in the middle of the screen.

The screen fades to black, and the commercial ends.

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asks the audience about his homemade commercial.

Everyone is just staring at the TV, which is now off, and it's all quiet. They have no words for it.

“I'm sorry. What was that supposed to be?” Vaggie exclaims,

Alastor just blinks at Vaggie and says, “The commercial, of course!!”. He waves his hands and gestures to the TV, saying, “I don't understand why you people are so insistent on television when radio works so much better.”

“And since I don’t trust anything that has to do with VoxTek or anything associated with them, I made this all on my own. And with my own equipment too!” Alastor says, feeling pretty proud of himself.

Charlie winces, a bit guilty, and says, “Uh, yeah ... . One note, Alastor, I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this seriously amazing! And I'm really proud of you and so grateful for this!"

Charlie scratches her head, avoiding Alastor’s gaze, and adds, “But um, maybe the tone is a bit... off? The commercial is a bit off….”

“The way you introduce the hotel is…um…”

Angel steps in as this is going nowhere and bluntly states, “It’s bad. It's so, so bad. I think I have nausea watching this.”

“Angel! Don’t say that! Alastor clearly worked hard on this commercial!” Charlie chastises Angel.

“No! I am seriously havin’ motion sickness when watching this! The camera's really shaky!” Angel exclaims back.

“It’s like ya’ are on a boat spinning around while ya’ are inside a moving car tryin’ to read somethin’ with tiny words!”

Here Vaggie adds, "Plus, it barely explains anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole point."

“There was like only one moment where you explained the end goal, which is getting sinners into Heaven. The rest is just you making fun of Charlie and the hotel!” She also adds.

“I like it! It makes my eye spin!” Niffty suddenly shouts,

Alastor glances at Niffty with a grateful smile before addressing the rest of the group, “At least some people appreciate it!” He says, pouting in frustration.

“No! No, no, no! We really appreciate your commercial! Really!” Charlie exclaims, waving her arm around. “It’s just that…” She pauses, her words hanging in the air.

“We can’t use this for the hotel’s commercial. It doesn’t represent what the hotel really is and honestly, the quality is pretty bad.” Vaggie puts it bluntly.

Charlie glances over at Vaggie and exclaims, “Vaggie! Don't you think that's a little harsh?”

Vaggie stands up, places her hands on her hips and says with a firm tone, “I’m sorry, Charlie. But I am not sugarcoating this. This—,” she gestures toward the TV. “-is not what we want to represent us.”

“It is hard to watch and barely understandable, and most of it is just mocking you and the hotel. Nobody's gonna wanna come to a place that a powerful overlord thinks is a waste of time.”

Husk then chimes in from the bar area, “Not that they will listen to him in the first place. Nobody listens to kid sinners, not even if they are an overlord.”

Vaggie and Charlie both flinch a little at this.

Angel Dust then raises his hand from the couch, catching everyone's attention.

“What?” Vaggie asks.

“If'n you're filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust proudly points to himself with his three arms, while the fourth one grabs the bottle of booze at his feet. “Starring, the one and only, yours truly.”

“Angel, that would just make the hotel look like we're just using you to get people in,” Vaggie says.

Angel then exclaims, "Yeah! Duh! I can totally get fans to show up at the hotel just by being on screen for like, 5 seconds!!”

“We are not doing that!” Vaggie shot back.

“Why not? Children on TV always pull on heartstrings! I swear if you film me along with Strawberry Deer here, with sad puppy eyes and an outfit that shows some skin, you will be rolling in sinners.” Angel explains.

Alastor suddenly pops up next to Angel and says, “Haha! Never going to happen!”

Charlie, looking super uncomfortable after hearing Angel's explanation, says, “Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your talent to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you in that way.”

“Plus….. your idea might attract the wrong kind of sinners here…..”

The kids look at each other, raising an eyebrow after Charlie says this. They really don’t believe her at all; adults in Hell usually exploit or enslave kids to do their bidding. They doubt this princess or her girlfriend would be different; it's just a matter of time before the adults show their true intentions.

“Oh please! Like you don’t want to exploit this!” Angel points to himself with his three arms. “I got the looks, I got the skills, I got the clout.”

He chuckles a little and says, “Pick a tone you want to go with and I got ya’ covered! You want sad? I can make sad puppy eyes! You want happy? I will be like a kid on a summer day! You want hip? I am the latest trend you can get!”

Charlie lets out a nervous chuckle just as her phone starts ringing. The caller ID shows that it’s from her dad.

“Hold that thought! I'll be right back.” She quickly picks up her phone and heads to a quiet corner to answer it.

“Don’t chu’ worry! I could keep going all night, princess!” Angel exclaims as he takes a swig of his booze.

Now that she’s found a quiet spot, Charlie takes a deep breath and picks up her phone, saying, “Hello? Dad?”

Angel, still sprawled out on the sofa, turns to Vaggie and says, “Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful,” Angel points at Alastor, “then why can't he just make people stay here?”

Alastor looks at Angel with an ominous look on his face. "Oh, trust me," He grins wickedly, dark magic swirling around him, and says, “I can.”

“Why do you think I'm here?” Husk chimes in from the bar, casually holding a bottle in his hand.

“You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fucks bitch and moan all the time if he wasn't forcing me?” He mentions, while he cleans the bottle.

Niffty emerges from behind the counter, raises a hand, and declares, "I like being forced by Alastor!"

“Keep that to yourself, Niff.” Husk tells Niffty.

Angel sits up from the sofa and glances over at Husk. “What? You don't love being with a celebrity like me here, Whiskers?”

“Fuck you! Call me Whiskers again and I'll jam that bottle down your throat!” Husk angrily exclaims as he glares at Angel.

Angel, with a cheeky grin, says, “Come on~ You know you love me.”

Vaggie lets out a sigh and says to Angel, “Angel. Let Husk do his job. And, no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to.”

Angel points to himself and says, “I'm choosing to be here, and even for a kid like me, I think it's all stupid.” He gestures around the area and says, “We're in hell, Nag. That's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?”

“Well, Maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it out before doesn't mean it's not possible.” Vaggie says as she tries to convince Angel.

Angel Dust places a hand on Vaggie's shoulder, gives her a deadpan expression, and says, “Hey, whatever means I can keep crashing here rent-free. Drugs and booze are expensive.”

Vaggie just responds with a deadpan face.

Charlie is just about done with her call. She’s got a big smile on her face; it seems she is really happy with the news her father brought to her.

“Yeah, I can totally, yeah. I'll head over there right away. Okay?!” She hangs up the phone and lets out a gasp of excitement, “Yes... YES!” She jumps up with excitement and spreads her arms wide.

She then shouts for Vaggie, her arms waving with excitement, “VAGGIE, HOLY SHIT!”

“Ah! What?” Vaggie asks,

Charlie waves her over, eager to share some exciting news. “Get over here!” she says with a hint of excitement.

Vaggie lets out a happy sigh and strolls over to Charlie, who's bouncing around in a super cheerful mood.

“What's going on?” Vaggie asks Charlie

Charlie takes a deep breath to steady herself, trying to calm her nerves before she dives into her explanation. But her excitement gets the better of her, and she starts talking really fast.

“My dad just called!” Charlie takes a deep breath and adds, “He said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet!”

She then grabs Vaggie by the shoulders, pulls her in closer, and says, “He asked if I could go instead!”

Charlie starts to hyperventilate as she releases Vaggie, who looks really confused and says, “But-but, the extermination just happened. What could they possibly want this soon after—”

Before Vaggie can continue, Charlie starts singing. She sings about how she can do this meeting no problem and she will definitely not blow this chance.

Vaggie tries to calm Charlie down, “Charlie, hold on…”

She goes on to sing about this amazing once-in-a-lifetime chance she's been given. A chance at convincing Heaven about her ideas, a scheme to change their minds and touch their hearts, or whatever it is that angels have inside them.

“It’s really just a meeting.” Vaggie tries to calm Charlie down and help her keep her expectations in check.

Charlie is still singing and dancing happily in the lobby. Vaggie, sensing that this meeting might not turn out the way Charlie is hoping, says, “This could be bad…”

“Cheer up, Vaggie!” Charlie happily sings.

She takes Vaggie's hands and twirls around the room with her, singing, “Something tells me that today will be a happy day in Hell!”

They twirl around the room for a moment until Charlie finally releases Vaggie. She gives one last spin before coming to a stop and says to Charlie, “Okay, but just don't... sing to them.”

But before Vaggie knows it, Charlie is already gone.

“That bitch is halfway down the street!” Angel Dust exclaims,

“Is she—?” Vaggie nervously asks,

Angel just nods and takes a swig, saying to Vaggie, “Oh, she's dancin'!”

Vaggie feels a headache creeping in and groans, “Ugh, no…”

Charlie is making her way down the street, oblivious to the destruction and bodies of dead demons everywhere as she continues to sing her song. She just strolls around, still singing away.

After a little while, she arrives at a window of a sex dungeon where a hellhound and an imp are in a compromising position. They notice her, and Charlie, feeling a bit awkward, quickly takes off before she goes back to singing. Charlie then accidentally steps on a dead shark demon that was releasing a very bad smell. She cautiously avoids the corpse and presses on in the street.

“Hi mister!” Charlie gives a friendly wave to a sinner holding a newspaper.

“Go fuck yourself!!” the sinner shouts back at her, clearly annoyed. Charlie quickly moves on from there.

One demon opens his window in an apartment nearby, revealing his apartment on fire. Another demon comes out of nowhere singing he's going to shove barbed wire up someone’s hole. A demon is coming out from an alley singing; they all have their role down here in hell. And finally, a demon with a knife sticking out from his eye is saying he is not doing well.

The demons around start singing, “Another shitty day in Hell!”

Charlie climbs onto a car, singing about how she can show the angels, “That any soul can change!”

Vaggie heads into the watchtower from the Hazbin Hotel, almost like she's calling out to her girlfriend, singing, “Those angels' minds are hard to change.”

“Then they will know everyone can be redeemed.” Charlie sings right after Vaggie. “From the evil to the strange!”

“They're bloodthirsty and deranged!” Vaggie sings, hoping her warning gets to Charlie.

Charlie hops down from the car, singing about how she'll hear all the stories from the sinners who are lost and displaced. She understands that assisting sinners comes in various forms and requires acquired taste. But if she opens the doors of her hotel for all these people, she really thinks she can make a difference for them. And when she finally gets to help them, it’s going to be a Happy Day in Hell.

Then, a truck rolls by, and Charlie hops on for a ride to travel around the city. She passes the Vees’ porn studios, where a crowd of folks is hanging out in front of TV shops, glued to the screen watching porn. She jumps off and lands just as the truck rolls by Cannibal Town, still singing away.

As she walks by a group of cannibals munching on some unfortunate soul sprawled on the ground, she suddenly gets hit in the eye with blood from one of the bodies they were feasting on. Charlie flinches a little, but it doesn’t bother her at all because she’s just too happy to feel anything else.

When she finally gets to the Heaven embassy, she wraps up her song by singing about how she can make this happen and that today is going to be a fucking Happy Day in Hell!

Chapter Text

Charlie makes her way up the steps of the Heaven Embassy and finally arrives at the front door. She gently nudges the door open and takes a quick peek inside.

“Hello!?” Charlie calls out into the empty embassy, her voice bouncing off the walls in the silence.

Charlie walks in through the door and notices that the entire embassy is empty. She calls out again, “Hello?”

Her voice bounces off the walls of the hallway, but no one replies. “Creepy,” Charlie mutters to herself. She made her way to the front desk of the embassy before long.

Charlie walks up to the front desk, and it’s just her and a lone bell. She glances around for a moment before tapping the bell to ring it, and just like that, a golden scroll and a feather ink pen float down from above to her.

“Oh, okay...,” Charlie says in surprise before signing the scroll. “Also creepy.”

The scroll and feather take off into the air before vanishing completely. The twin doors slide open, and Charlie steps into the meeting room, finding it dark and empty.

“Uh...hello? Is anyone here?” Charlie calls out as she searches for someone in the dimly lit room.

The lights flicked on out of nowhere, and there—were two angels standing at the far end of the room. One of them had a huge mask with golden horns. He has a golden halo and is draped in a white and golden cloak, which has a big 'A' symbol right on the front. He's also got a plate of ribs right in front of him.

The other one looks like a typical exorcist— a grey female humanoid in a typical black and grey exorcist bodysuit uniform with a black halo. She is wearing an exorcist mask with horns that curve backwards, and there's a ‘X’ on the left eye of the mask. She’s standing tall next to the golden one, hands clasped behind her back.

“'Sup!” The golden angel greets Charlie.

Charlie, caught off guard by the unexpected turnout, exclaims, “Holy, shit!”

She immediately fell down after getting surprised by the sudden appearance of two angels in the room. She gets back up and readjusts herself to introduce herself properly.

“Hi, I'm Charlie. My dad asked me if I could meet you.” she says with a smile as she introduces herself.

The golden angel, holding a rib, just says flatly, “Yeah, I know.”

“Okay, well.” Charlie sees the angel tearing into the rib like a buzzsaw. She extends her hand for a handshake and says, “It's nice to meet you.”

He then says to Charlie, “Totally. It's nice to meet you, too.”

Adam leans in to offer Charlie a handshake, but just as she’s about to grab his hand, it slips right through, revealing him to be a hologram, fizzing on and off after being touched, which freaks Charlie out.

“Ha! I fucking got you.” he exclaims before turning to the other angel in the room and saying, “Did you see that?” The angel just gives him a nod.

“Good shit.” he mutters to himself.

Charlie tries to make clear that they’re actually holograms.

“Uh...so, wait. You aren't here?” Charlie points down with her fingers and asks him.

“No, you think I'd come down there!?” He chuckles while saying this.

He keeps going, saying, “No, I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fucking hardcore, don't get me wrong.”

“But! It's such a bummer! man. Everything down there's just so ‘eugh’, ya know?” He waves his hands, talking about Hell. “Ew!” He says while chuckling.

Charlie brushes off her uneasy feeling and starts to talk. “Right. So, I'm happy we've got this opportunity to meet. There's a project that I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about—”

The angel gently places a finger on Charlie's lips, signaling her to be quiet for just a moment. It's interesting how he can actually touch Charlie, even though he's just a hologram.

He cuts in on Charlie and says, “Hey, hey, hey, hey, slow down. We've got time. How about we get to know each other a little. Mmm. How about lunch? You hungry? I got you.”

He grabs a plate of ribs he's been snacking on and passes it to Charlie. “Here's my personal favorite. You'll love it.” He says while handing Charlie some of his ribs.

“Uh...thanks.” Charlie says in a bit of an awkward way,

Charlie reaches for a rib, but her hand just goes right through it, showing it's a hologram. It flickers on and off when she touches it, and then the angel bursts out laughing.

“I got you again, bitch!” He bursts out laughing at Charlie. “Fuckin' hilarious!”

Charlie, not really feeling it, lets out a small, dry chuckle while the angel laughs away with glee.

Back at the Hazbin Hotel, Vaggie calls the kids to talk about their misleading and badly produced commercial. While Husk slouches back on the sofa, looking pretty bored, Angel Dust is just chilling and scrolling through his phone, ignoring Vaggie. Niffty sits elegantly between them. In another chair, Alastor is sulking visibly, his arms crossed and his face annoyed.

Vaggie steps up and says, “Okay, so Charlie is dealing with something very important, so while she's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that represents her vision and what we're doing here. So, we need a camera.”

She looks over at Alastor and says, “Alastor?” while reaching out her hand, signaling for a camera.

Alastor just pouts, arms crossed, turning his face away from Vaggie and completely ignoring her. Angel Dust chuckles at this, while Husk just rolls his eyes.

“Alastor, you can’t be serious right now,” Vaggie says, sounding really annoyed. “We need to shoot a new commercial; we can’t use yours.”

Alastor just kept his back to her, completely ignoring her.

Vaggie, feeling more and more frustrated, exclaims, “Come on! We really need to get this done!” She then says, “When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run this hotel! And we need you to do your part for this.”

“So. Camera. Now!” Vaggie shouts out. The kids are now giving Vaggie a look, and it’s clear they’re not too pleased with her. They feel she's asking them to do something that benefits only her and Charlie, not them. Furthermore, they think her tone is pretty offensive. It’s really frustrating and a bit annoying.

At least Charlie recognizes and values what Alastor has done; on the other hand, Vaggie just seems to dismiss and criticize it, not really seeing that a kid sinner put in the effort for her out of their free will.

Alastor just rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers, and suddenly, a vintage folding camera from the 1930s, without any recording films, appears in Vaggie’s hands. Vaggie does not find this amusing.

“A video camera?” Vaggie clarifies.

Alastor shoots her a flat look and snaps his fingers once more. This time, a video camera with tape all over it replaces the vintage one.

“Alright! Let's do this!” Vaggie declares,

“Have fun without me; I will be here, not helping you at all!” Alastor says to Vaggie.

Vaggie, sensing a migraine creeping in, exclaims, “Ugh! Fine! Just don’t get in our way!” She grabs a box from nearby and hands it over to Alastor.

“Here, why don’t you play with these? They’ll keep you busy,” Vaggie says to Alastor.

It's a box of devil goat plushies that Charlie had bought earlier for the kids. After realizing that most hotel guests are children, Charlie has spent the past week buying toys and entertainment for the kids. At first, she picked up the typical stuff: board games, mind-stimulating toys, or anything that could strengthen the connection between friends and family, like Hell-o-poly. (It'll become clear later that this was a mistake.)

However, she also bought toys and things that do not match the present kid demographic or that she does not understand boy children. She purchased numerous sports toys, robot action figures, and toy cars. Additionally, she purchased American baseball and football equipment for Husk, which he doesn't care for. To be fair, Angel and Alastor do enjoy themselves when they smash things with bean bags.

Most of the other things she bought are for kids way younger than them, not really for tweens like Angel and Alastor. There’s a whole bunch of plushies, which makes it seem like Charlie is kind of babying them, which she does sometimes.

Alastor glances at Vaggie, his eyebrow raised. “What am I meant to do with this? Play with them? What am I?! Eight?!”

“Ugh! I don’t know! Use your imagination! Aren’t you kids good with that? Pretend it to be something else!” Vaggie spoke with a hint of annoyance. “Just let us do our commercial.”

Alastor rolls his eyes, grabs the box, and heads to the parlor to play.

“Alright! Let’s shoot a commercial, people!” Vaggie says once more,

The kids and Vaggie, minus Alastor, are chilling at the hotel bar, which also serves as the front desk. They're all set to start filming the first part of the commercial. Husk is hanging out behind the counter, going over a script with his claws, while Angel Dust is perched on a bar stool, giving his face a little touch-up with some make-up.

Vaggie is close by, messing around with the camera, trying to figure out how to get it to work. After some time, she finally got the camera working. The camera whirs to bring the two into focus. Vaggie sets up the video camera on a stand she found in the hotel storage room and gets ready to record the scene.

"People! Places! Let's get this commercial rolling!” Vaggie calls out to grab everyone's attention.

“And… Action!” she says, pressing the camera’s record button.

Vaggie quickly makes her way to her spot for the scene, right next to Angel Dust, who's standing in front of the hotel front desk. They are playing the part of a guardian and child arriving at the hotel together. Husk is playing the role of a front desk employee to help them with their check-in.

Husk leans in, carefully scanning the lines on his script as he brings it closer to get a better look.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Can I help you with anything?" After reading his line, he glances over at the duo.

Vaggie looks over at Husk, a bit uneasy, as she tries to get her words out, “Hello, I’m here to check in with my child. I heard that you can set us on the path of redemption and to Heaven. Where we will be safe and happy.”

“I’m going to be in Heaven with my mommy~” Angel says his line in a really adorable manner.

Husk lets out a frustrated groan, rolls his eyes, and takes another look at his script.

"Well, you come—" Husk reads from the script straight.

Angel suddenly claps his hands, jumps around like a little kid, and shouts, “Yayyyy~~~”

Husk, looking a bit annoyed, keeps on reading, “—to the right place."

This is not what Vaggie had in mind; she hurried over to the camera and switched off the recording.

"Cut! Okay, Angel, I need you to turn down the obviously fake enthusiasm a bit, and Husk, can you maybe not have the script in front of your face?” Vaggie tells them,

Husk snaps at Vaggie, “I ain't no actor! I can't memorize all this shit!”

“Please, you can have only one line in this whole thing, and you won't be able to memorize it,” Angel teases Husk. “You are like an old man with dementia!” He chuckles.

“Why, you little twerp!" Husk angrily yells,

"Get over here! I will give you dementia!!” Husk says while he hops over the bar counter, and tries to beat up Angel Dust.

Vaggie steps in between them, trying to break up the fight.

“Hey! No fighting! We are supposed to work together!” Vaggie shouts, positioning herself to stand between Angel and Husk as they both attempt to push past her for a fight.

At the Heaven Embassy, Charlie is really feeling bored. She's leaning on her elbows, tuning out to the angel who's going on and on about himself and his sex life.

“So, I was playin' this gig, and for some fuckin' reason, this virtue chick was diggin' on the drummer, and it's like, ‘do you know who I am? I'm fuckin' Adam. I'm the original dick!’” He gestures towards himself.

He looks over at the other angel and says, “All dicks descend from me. You think you want drummer dick?”. The angel in question just shook her head.

“No way! I'm the Dick-fuckin' master!” He takes a big bite of ribs and goes on, “So, anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?”

Charlie was totally zoned out while the angel just kept going on and on. But then she caught wind of something important, and it was like a lightbulb went off in her head.

“Wait, your name is Adam?” Charlie suddenly shouts, pointing at him. All of a sudden, it hits her who the angel really is.

“Like the first man, Adam, that means you… Oh….”

Charlie starts to connect the dots and realizes this is why her mother left him, which makes her wince.

“That explains so much.” Charlie is mumbling softly.

Adam, completely unaware of what Charlie figured out and what she mentioned, shouts, “I know. I fucking rock.” he says, feeling proud of himself.

Charlie brushes off the awkwardness from Adam and tries to get to her subject matter at hand.

“Well, Adam, sir. Mr. Adam, sir.” Charlie tries to talk to Adam but feels a bit uncomfortable.

Adam shoots her a smooth glance and says, “Call me, Dickmaster.”

“Adam.” Charlie says in a deadpan tone,

“You seem like a smart—” she takes a moment to think. “…well, stand up guy.”

Adam picks his teeth, not really listening, “Uh-huh.”

“And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a big thinker, a revolutionary. A— A genius!” Charlie mentions it in a flattering manner, trying to get on Adam’s good side.

Adam, clearly enjoying the compliments, responds with a grin, “I mean, your words, babe.”

“Who would really love to put his name on something?!” Charlie keeps going with her speech.

Adam stands up and exclaims, “Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!” before sitting back down.

“It's a solution to our biggest problem!” Charlie joyfully shouts, thinking Adam got the message.

“Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.” Adam suddenly cuts in.

“No!” Charlie says, “Our... other biggest problem.”

“Oh…uh..ugly people? Math? Global Warming? Nah, wait, that's Earth's problem.” Adam says this as he tries to figure out the answer.

Adam pauses for a moment and says, “Ummm…”

Charlie looks at Adam, clearly annoyed by his cluelessness.

Chapter Text

In a hotel room, Niffty is trying to stab a bug. She goes for the bug with a stab, but completely misses. Then she starts going at it again and again until Vaggie steps in to stop her.

“Stab! Stab! Stab!” Niffty shouts as she takes a giant sewing needle, nearly her size, and starts jabbing it down at the floor, trying to squash the bug that's darting around.

She missed a few times, and the giant needle made tiny little holes in the floor with each miss. Vaggie kneels down on the floor and reaches out to her shoulder to get her attention. She spins Niffty around to look at her and starts to give some instructions.

“Alright Niffty, Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms", okay?” Vaggie talks slowly and clearly so that Niffty can really get what she's saying.

Niffty nods her head and says, “Got it! I'm ready!”

Vaggie points the video camera at Niffty and says, “Action!”

Upon saying action, instead of saying the line, Niffty freezes and stares blankly at the camera without a breath or blinking from the scene. Vaggie tilts the camera down slightly, a look of confusion on her face. Angel also peers in.

Niffty is seen up close, staring blankly with a creepy, shrinking pupil. Angel slowly backs away, already creeped out.

Unknown to both of them, Niffty is currently having a flashback as soon as the camera turns on and starts recording her.

-Flashback starts-

Niffty is lying on an operating table, unable to move since all her limbs are secured to the table. A bright light shone above her, the kind that doctors use in the surgery room.

Niffty feels a bit out of it and sleepy from the meds she took, but she’s still somewhat aware of what’s going on around her. She noticed a bunch of shadowy figures standing around her, talking about her. Additionally, she vaguely notices some medical equipment beside her.

“You sure this is legal?” One figure said to the other,

There was a pause for a moment before hearing the other one say, “Not really, but that's what science is all about. If you don’t push yourself or explore new things, you’ll never hit that scientific breakthrough.”

“Besides, there won’t be a serious loss for this one.” The figure continues, “Her mom practically disowned her, and after what she did, no one will care if she is gone.”

The first figure then exclaimed, “Oh! So, she's the one who killed her boyfriend and that woman, huh?”

“Yep! Though he is cheating on her. Poor bastard, he got it coming” the second figure replied.

She heard a shuffling sound and then another voice chimed in, “Isn’t her mom crazy too? I heard the woman is delusional and thinks her husband is still with her.”

“I guess it runs in the family,” she heard someone say.

When she looked up again, she noticed a big camera staring down at her, clearly set to film her on the operating table.

She then heard, “Okay, the camera’s all set up. We can begin this new operational procedure.”

"The neuroscience community will find this fascinating. It's not every day that you can have a video of a new lobotomy procedure to study."

“That’s true. We are going to make bank with this!” She caught someone saying with enthusiasm,

Then suddenly she heard, “All right everyone. Let’s begin the procedure now.”

The operation lights flickered on, shining so bright that she could barely see. She noticed the camera and heard the voices cueing to start recording.

And then, it all goes dark.

-Flashback ends-

“Uhh, cut.” Vaggie’s voice suddenly cuts through, pulling Niffty back to reality.

Niffty snaps back to reality and asks, “How was that?”

“Alright, Niffty, you really need to say the line this time, so let’s give it another go.” Vaggie says to her,

Niffty nods and replies, “Ok!”

Vaggie picks up the camera once more and says, “Action!”

Niffty freezes up again, which really gets on Vaggie's nerves, and then Angel leans in close to her face.

Angel says with a smirk, “You're doing great, Naggy.”

Vaggie can feel her eye twitching. “Cut!” she shouts.

“Alright, uhh… maybe we can try to… fix it in post.” She says to herself.

Angel gives a playful smirk and teasingly asks her, “Do you even know what that means?”

“I'll figure it out!” Vaggie shouts at him in frustration.

Angel just gives her a look, eyebrow raised.

The kids and Vaggie are all hanging out in the kitchen now. Vaggie had set out the snacks for the kids that Charlie had made earlier in the morning. The kids are all eating their food without much complaint; it’s free food after all, and with the bonus of having a low chance of being spiked with something. So they are taking what they can get.

Angel wasn't really in the mood for food, handed his portion over to Niffty, who eagerly devoured it. He just sips on the juice that came with the snack.

“Okay, you guys stay here and eat your snacks.”Vaggie says to the kids, "I’m going to edit the video footage for the commercial."

“You all better not be fighting while I’m away,” she warns the kids. She walks out of the kitchen and makes her way to the parlor where the TV is.

Once Vaggie leaves, Alastor glances in her direction and smirks a little. He slips into the shadows, ready to follow her. Angel sees this and decides to follow him.

When Vaggie got to the parlor, she was entirely focused on the camera and the footage it had captured. But when she finally looks up from the camera, she lets out a startled scream.

“Ahh!” Vaggie lets out a scream.

The parlor is a bit of a mess right now because Alastor has been having fun playing here while they’re doing their commercial shoot. There are goat devil plushies everywhere, and they’re in all sorts of states of dismemberment. There were some goat devil plushies merely hanging by the fireplace, hanging by their necks similar to Christmas stockings.

Some were spread out and pinned to the floor, with their middles being cut open, somewhat like a dissection. Others have performed voodoo on them, and there are these plushies with a bunch of pins stuck in them.

There is even a satanic ritual going on, complete with a pentagram and candles all around it. Crushed bones of unknown origin are scattered around it.

“¡¿Qué carajo?!” Vaggie shouts. “Alastor!” she calls out to herself.

She nudges the plushies aside with her foot and then plugs the camera to the TV.

Vaggie spends a bit of time trying to edit the footage she captured for the commercial, but it just isn't working out. The footage isn't great, and she's not really skilled at video editing, so the final result doesn't look too well.

She lets out a frustrated groan just before Alastor walks into the room.

“Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hmm?” Alastor smugly asks her

Vaggie, taken aback, asks Alastor, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen with everyone else?”

Alastor plops down on the couch right next to her.

“For entertainment,” he says with a grin.

Alastor's shadow sneaks out from his form and pops up behind the couch, making playful laughing gestures.

“It’s funny how one disregards others' hard work thinking they can do better but yet fail spectacularly when they attempt it themselves!” Alastor gleefully tells her. “Good job!”

“Ugh! Alastor! I don’t have time to deal with you right now! I have to get this commercial done before Charlie gets back!” Vaggie shouts at Alastor in frustration.

Alastor glances at his fingers and then looks over at Vaggie, “Yes! Must be frustrating when all your hard work is just rejected like that.” He gives a little grin. “Everything just went down the drain in an instant.”

“Alright! I get it! I shouldn't disregard your commercial like that. Making one is difficult, and you went out of your way to make one yourself.” Vaggie exclaims,

Vaggie takes a deep breath and says, “Look. I need help in making this commercial, and you have the power to do it. So what is it going to take for you to help out?”

Alastor smirks and says, “How about a deal?”

“Pfft, you think I'm that stupid, making a deal with the likes of you?” Vaggie lets out a snort.

Alastor informs Vaggie, “Not for your soul, just a simple deal.”

“I help you with this, and in return, you’ll ensure that there are no products from Voxtech, the Vees, or anything connected to them in the hotel,” Alastor suggests.

Vaggie pauses for a moment, then says, “I can’t do that, Alastor; a lot of the technology and products are associated with the Vees. It's pretty much impossible to not have any of them."

“Then I guess Charlie can come back to absolutely nothing.” Alastor states simply,

“Wait!” Vaggie exclaims. She pauses for a second and then suggests, “How about this?' You can check anything we buy or have outside the hotel before bringing it in.”

“So you can work your creepy, voodoo magic on it and make sure it’s Vees/Voxtech safe.”

Alastor pauses for a moment and then replies, “I suppose that is an acceptable compromise. I guess we have a deal?”

Before they can seal the deal, a voice rings out to them.

“Wait!!” the voice calls out; they turn around to find it’s Angel Dust.

“Before ya’ go sealing the deal, how about I add something for ya?” Angel Dust mentions,

Alastor, curious about Angel’s proposal, asks, “Oh! What is it that you want to offer, my fellow child sinner?”

“You still need a script for the commercial, right? I have seen both of yours and to be frank, they suck!” Angel says, “It’s poorly written and full of typical cliches because you guys don’t know how to write a script.”

“I, on the other hand—” He points to himself and says, “Have movie and TV experience. I've been in a bunch of commercials and movies, and I might have picked up a thing or two along the way. I can definitely whip up a solid script for you all!”

Vaggie and Alastor shot him a fierce glare. They’re not saying anything, because deep down, they both know he was right.

“So, how about this? Since Al and I are on the same page about the Vees and Voxtek, how about I throw in a little of what I’m looking for in the deal?” Angel asks

“What do you want from me?! And what do you mean you and Al are on the same page? Since when did that happen?!” Vaggie raises her voice, asking for answers.

“Since day one, when you and Charlie were preparing dinner for us. Al and I got to talk; turns out we both hate Vox and the Vees!” Angel replies. “He even tweaked my phone so the TV guy can't spy on me when I'm at the hotel.”

Angel puts his hands on his hips and says, “For what I want, I want a video game console with games. Not made by the Vees, a console that is from outside Pentagram City.” He goes on, “I want you to convince Charlie to buy one for me!”

“Why didn’t you just go and ask Charlie yourself? If you just ask her, she’ll get you one.” Vaggie questions Angel.

Angel laughs and says, “Yeah, right! Like she won’t demand something back! Adults are always like that!” He looks Vaggie in the eyes and says, “When a kid asks for something, it’s expected that they’ll need to pay it back. Sometimes, the price can become way higher than what they're asking for.”

Vaggie flinched a bit when Angel said that, “But Charlie isn’t like that! She really cares about you all."

Angel and Alstor both laugh at her. They're holding their stomachs and cracking up.

“Good one, Vaggie! Nice joke there!” Angel says, trying to take a deep breath and steady himself.

Alastor, having just stopped laughing, says to Vaggie, “It’s only a matter of time before you people use us for your own benefit. It’s happened before, and it will happen again.”

“This is Hell; everyone is just using each other. Kids like us just had it worse because we are younger and smaller” Alastor chimes in. “You will understand soon enough.”

Vaggie bit her lips; she looks a bit guilty, like she is thinking about something bad she did.

She lets out a sigh and says, “Let’s just get this deal over with. We should get a commercial ready before Charlie comes back.”

Vaggie picks up the camera and hands it to Alastor, and suddenly, green energy skulls begin to swirl around it.

“Alright then!” Alastor snaps his fingers and says.

He conjured up equipment for a film set, summoning Husk and Niffty. He then dressed everyone up from the 1910s. He then summons shadow minions to serve as additional film crew members. A script pops into Angel’s hand, and a red pen shows up too, set to make certain rewrites or corrections.

“Alright everyone, let's make a fucking commercial.” Vaggie tells everyone.

Chapter Text

At the Embassy, Charlie is getting more and more fed up with Adam's sexist rants about women and masculinity.

“You know when you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, ‘Hey, I thought you wanted equality.’” Adam just keeps going on and on.

Charlie, after hearing Adam's endless chatter for what felt like forever, finally snapped and shouted, “NO! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!”

Adam, suddenly getting it, goes, “Ohh.” He smiles at Charlie and cheerfully says, “Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered!”

He looks over at the other angel beside him and asks, “Lute, how many demons did you kill this year?”

Lute, the angel, responds to Adam, “Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

“275? Woah! Badass! Awesome job, danger tits! Pound it.” He tells Lute.

Adam lifts his fist for a fist bump, and Lute gladly returns the gesture.

After hearing Adam casually brush off the whole Hell overpopulation and extermination thing, Charlie stands up and says, “Uh no, not awesome. Those are my people. You know that, right?”

“Oh yeah.” Adam chuckles after a brief pause and says, “That must suck for you!”

“But these are souls...human souls just like the ones you have up in heaven.” Charlie says these words as she tries to convince the two angels in front of her.

Lute simply said, “They are not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation.”

“You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.” Charlie reasons with Lute.

Lute just shoots her a glare and says, “Angels don’t make mistakes.”

“You really think that.” Charlie fired back.

Lute keeps glaring and snaps back, “I know that.”

Adam jumps in while the girls are talking and says, “Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fuckin' life.”

Lute slowly walks over to Charlie and says, “The only reason you're still here is because ‘daddy’ gave you and your Hellborn kind a pardon from an exorcist blade.”

“How does that feel, to know how little you matter?” She gives her a sneer before heading back to her place next to Adam.

Charlie seems a bit off when Lute says that, clearly indicating that Lute's words got under her skin.

“Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it.” Adam casually mentions that the meeting is wrapping up soon.

After hearing that, Charlie exclaims, “Oh, fuck!”

Charlie rushes forward to present her plan as fast as she can, summoning a stack of papers to the table.

“Okay, I've got a lot to get through and not a lot of time, and I feel like you weren't hearing me before, so here it goes.” Charlie says in a hurry as she tries to wrap this up as quickly as she can.

Charlie jumps right into singing, grabbing some drawings from the pile to illustrate what she’s talking about.

“I know Hell's population is out of control.” She starts showing one drawing after another that highlights the overpopulation in Hell. “It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll.”

She sings about how, if she gets the opportunity to help the sinners at her Hazbin Hotel, Hell could be less crowded with sinners seeking redemption and making their way to Heaven.

Charlie sets aside the drawings in her hands and grabs another one. She goes on to explain how angels need to come down once a year to take care of things.

“I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year,” she sings to them while sharing her drawings. “And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here.”

She goes on to say that if she gets enough backing for her hotel, she can help sinners find their way to Heaven, so they won’t have to face this place anymore and come back every year to carry out these horrible exterminations.

Adam raises his hand to pause her and starts singing instead. “Let me stop you right there.”

Charlie, caught off guard by Adam, exclaims, “Oh—”

“Save us all precious time.” He sings, “If what you're suggesting.”

“Is letting them climb. Up the ladder, oh, they'd rather cross the Pearly Gates?”

Adam sings that if Charlie thinks she’s trying to help sinners get to heaven, then she can just stop right there. She really shouldn't waste her time thinking about something that's just not going to happen.

Sinners are people who spent their lives in ways they might regret now, and they're facing the consequences of their actions in Hell. The rules of the afterlife are black and white, really—it's all about the basics, clear-cut and easy to understand. If you're a good person, you get to go to Heaven. If you're not, you end up in Hell and are now worse than trash. They will stay there until Heaven comes down there to kill them again.

“Okay, but—” Charlie attempts to jump in, but Adam isn’t having any of it.

“Just try to chillax, babe.” Adam sings to Charlie while getting too close to her personal space. “You're wasting your breath.”

“Hehe…” Charlie lets out a nervous laugh and takes a step back.

Adam then sings that these sinners should get nothing but death, and honestly, that seems fair for everyone. Those sinners really deserve a lot of blame and suffering.

Charlie begins to explain again, saying, “Well, actually, if you take a look—” but gets cut off once more.

“And when all's said and done.” Adam soars into the air and begins to sing, “There's the question of fun.”

“And for those of us with Divine Ordainment.” He continues to sing as he walks down a staircase that’s made of clouds. “Extermination is entertainment!”

Adam sings about how enjoyable it is that they can go all out with the violence and chaos without having to worry about any repercussions, all because it's part of their job.

“Hell is forever.” He gives Charlie a little push with his wings and begins to fly in circles around the room. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Had their chance to behave better. Now they boil in the pot.”

He sings about how hell is forever and tells Charlie to let go of any dreams she had of helping sinners; in the end, it’s all pointless. Mirages of other exorcist angels begin to pop up around Charlie, and they're completely freaking her out. They’re dancing around her just to make fun of the princess of Hell.

He sings that Hell is meant to suck a lot, and the sinners will just keep on suffering there until the exorcists get the chance to kill them again. He says that Charlie doesn't stand a chance at this, so she might as well throw in the towel now.

Charlie gets really angry and shifts into her demon form, growling as she lights the paper on fire.

Adam then sings, “Long as I've got your attention. I guess I should probably mention.”

Now that he has Charlie’s full attention, he figures it’s a good time to talk about why they’re actually meeting.

“That we've made the determination.”

He pulls out a golden scroll and unrolls it, revealing a rough sketch of himself giving the middle finger, along with some poorly written words that say, “FUCK YOU, I DO WHAT I WANT!!”

“To move up the next Extermination!”

He's actually here to let her know that the annual exterminations are now happening every six months instead. They're going to be coming down faster than before.

“Wait, what?!” Charlie couldn't believe it and gasped in surprise.

“Can't wait a whole year.” He sings with faux disappointment. “To slaughter those little cunts.”

“I know it’s just been a week,” he says with excitement. He takes Charlie's hand with his hologram and tosses her out of the meeting room.

He laughs and says to her, “But we'll be back in six months!”

Lute throws her papers out as Charlie tumbles down onto the floor outside the room.

“Um, wait, you—you—” she says, getting up clumsily and heading toward the door.

As Charlie makes his way to Adam, the door gradually shuts while he keeps on with his guitar solo, shredding away. It shuts completely just before she can get to him.

She drops to her knees as the door slams shut, pounding her fist against it and shouting, “Ugh, SHIT!!”

Charlie makes her way back to the hotel, looking a bit down. Vaggie rushes over and wraps her arms around her in a warm hug.

“Charlie! How did it go, did they listen?” Vaggie asks Charlie, pulling back from their hug.

Charlie, attempting to break the bad news to Vaggie, stammers, “Oh, they sure did… hear it. But, um—”

“Hey, come over here!” We've got something really exciting to share with you!” Vaggie speaks with excitement before Charlie can even finish her sentence.

Vaggie takes Charlie over to the kids, who are simply relaxing in the hotel parlor, all gathered around the TV.

“Alastor and Angel pulled some strings, and it's about to air.” Vaggie tells Charlie as they both settle onto the sofa.

“I pulled a few limbs too, hahaha!” Alastor says with sadistic glee.

Angel, sitting on her floor, chimes in, “Oh yeah! You shoulda’ been there! Smiles got real freaky and got us prime time!”

“Wait, the commercial? You all made a new one?” Charlie looks around the group and asks.

Charlie takes a quick look at Alastor. "What about the one you did?”

“I suppose Vagatha has a point and needs some improvement. Thankfully we have the resources on hand to do it” Alastor says to Charlie with a casual shrug.

“Yeah, one of my better performances if I do say so myself.” Angel tells her.

Charlie, feeling moved, smiles brightly and gets a bit teary, saying, “That's... that's amazing.”

She was about to say something else, but then she spotted all the damaged Goat Devil plushies scattered around the parlor, including the ones hanging by the fireplace.

“Um…Vaggie?” Charlie hesitantly brings up the topic of the plushies with her girlfriend.

Vaggie, avoiding eye contact with Charlie, says, “We’ll talk about it later….”

Angel suddenly puts a finger to his lips, signaling for silence. “Sshh, it's starting.”

The TV commercial kicks off with a scene of everyone in their costumes standing outside the hotel.

“Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel—,” Vaggie says on TV before static fills the screen.

The TV suddenly cuts to a breaking news report.

Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel are feeling annoyed and start to vent their frustrations. Niffty claps and giggles. Charlie gets a bit upset and her horns start to poke out a little, while Alastor's eye is twitching even though he's still smiling.

Katie Killjoy, along with Tom Trench, appears live on screen to deliver a breaking news report, “Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next Extermination is happening sooner than ever before.”

She looks over at Tom and asks her co-host, “Do you know what that means, Tom?”

“No, what does that mean, Katie?” Tom replies.

“It means we're all royally fucked!” She slams her hands on the table and leans in closer to the camera. Her eye keeps twitching, which usually means she's about to lose it.

Tom just curls up a bit, taking the fact that, yes, they are all royally fucked.

Screaming can be heard from Sinners as the time on the Clock Tower reduces to 176 days until the next Extermination.

Everyone in the hotel watches the TV in shock after the news is being announced.

“Wait, what? Why?!” Angel exclaimed out loud.

Somewhere in an abandoned battlefield, a drone scours an area until it finds a dead Exorcist corpse with its head missing. The drone scans the corpse.

Back in Heaven, both Lute and Adam receive the data that the drone has scanned from the body just now.

“We found the body, sir. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them!” Lute exclaims angrily at Adam.

Adam raises his hand and gestures to Lute that he won’t be doing that, for now.

He then tells her, “No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry. When we come back, there won't be a demon left alive to pull a stunt like this again!”

Adam slams a fist on the projector, destroying it and causing its light to disappear, leaving only Adam's glowing evil smile.

Chapter Text

It’s the morning right after the big news about the early exterminations. After hearing about it yesterday, Charlie decided to send everyone to bed early to sleep it off, planning to discuss it in the morning. It's now the next morning, and everyone’s hanging out in the parlor, trying to work out this new deadline.

Charlie is pacing back and forth, clearly in a bit of a panic, while Keekee strolls alongside her owner.

“Okay. So, the extermination is coming in six months instead of a year! No big deal, just a little setback. Nothing we can't handle. Just angels cutting our timetable in half, but who needs a whole year to save souls, am I right?!”

Charlie is pacing faster around the room, her panic turning into anxiety as she worries about the six-month extermination. The other kids are just standing there, watching her do this without saying a thing.

She’s really feeling the pressure and shouts, “And next time when they cut the time in half again and again, we'll just handle it, right?!”

Vaggie takes hold of Charlie’s shoulders, pulling her back from her downward spiral and panic attack.

“Yes. We will.” She speaks to Charlie in a calm and steady voice, offering reassurance.

Angel, lounging on the sofa, chimes in, “Oh, please, ya had less than half a chance when you started all this salvation and saviour bullshit. And now…”

His phone buzzes rapidly, letting him know a bunch of messages are coming in. It looks like it's his boss, Velvette. With the new extermination deadline coming up, a bunch of his schedule has been moved around, and now he’s going to have to put in double or even triple the overtime. There are also numerous insulting comments against his body and fashion sense.

“Ain't no silver lining this time, toots.” He tells Charlie this while trying to brush off the messages.

Charlie, doubting Angel, responds, “Sure there is! We just...have to look a little harder for it!”

“Well, while you're lookin', the rest'a hell's goin' nuts.” Angel keeps scrolling through his phone.

He waves his phone in front of Charlie and Vaggie, saying, “People are already freakin' out about the news. Look at what's happenin' in the Doomsday District.”

He scrolls through an article, and at the bottom, there's a demon screaming in front of a fire. Suddenly, a pink message pops up. Charlie leans in and takes a closer look at it.

“Err, what does ‘you better still be a 2 or smaller’ mean?” She asks, squinting to read the message.

Angel, not wanting Charlie to find out, freaks out and pulls the phone back.

“Aah, heh, nothin'. My boss, Vel, is just freaked out about the news too. Like I said, everyone's losin' their shit.” Angel says with a hint of nervousness as he attempts to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“Yeah, that's true. Sinners are desperate” Vaggie has a lightbulb moment and turns to Charlie, saying, “Maybe desperate enough to try anything to escape the extermination?”

Charlie gasped and said with excitement, “This is the perfect time to recruit more sinners for the hotel!”

“Cute idea and all,” Angel says, waving his phone in front of them again. He shows them the chaos and destruction happening outside and asks, “But are you really going to go out in all of this?”

“Well, it’s not like people are just gonna show up on our doorstep—” Charlie starts, but then a loud explosion interrupts her.

Charlie let out a terrified scream from behind, catching their attention with the sudden explosion. They look over and see a new hole in the wall. Then, from the hole, they spot Sir Pentious holding a handmade bazooka launcher he used to blow up the hotel wall. Right behind him, the egg-bois are bustling about, doing their best to make their boss shine.

“Show yourself Alasssstor! Come on, face me—” Pentious announces something, only to realize that Alastor isn't in the room.

He puts the weapon down and looks around, saying, “Oh! He's not around?”

Charlie and Vaggie take a step forward to say hi to him. “Hi, Pentious! Are you here to visit Alastor?”

“We have a door, you know? You could have used it.” Vaggie chimes in right alongside Charlie, arms crossed.

Pentious, brushing off Vaggie, says to Charlie, “Yesss! I’ve come to face my rival in a battle to the death! For his title of Overlord!!”

Charlie gets in front of him and quickly says, “No! No, no! No battle to the death here!!” she exclaimed, waving her arm wildly to make it clear she's not on board with this idea.

“Pentious, if you just want to hang out here, all you have to do is ask.” Charlie says to him softly. “You’re welcome here anytime.”

“And use the door when you visit.” Vaggie adds in. “We don’t need you blasting walls down at the hotel.”

“Looks like Alastor is going to have to fix all of this.” Vaggie gestures to the wall, which is now damaged, and lets Charlie know about it.

“Did someone call for me?” Alastor pops out from the shadows, catching the girls and Pentious off guard and giving them quite the scare.

Charlie nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but quickly finds her balance and steadies herself. She then says, “Oh! Alastor, you’re here!”

She holds Pentious's hand and pulls him along to Alastor, bubbling with excitement as she exclaims, “Guess who dropped by to see you at the hotel!!”

“Your good friend! Sir Pentious!!” She says excitedly.

They share a brief moment of silence before Alastor breaks the ice, asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Aren’t you still supposed to be grounded for losing the blimp?” Alastor raises one of his eyebrows and says.

Pentious happily responds, “I was. But Mother said my punishment was over and I should head to the hotel to have some fun.”

“It’s kind of strange, you know? She’s very busy with the new extermination date coming up, but she doesn’t want me to help her,” Pentious thinks out loud.

Charlie gives Vaggie a curious glance. “Huh? I wonder why Carmilla suddenly lets her son hang out here?” She then says, “Last time I saw her, she was hesitant about letting him come here.”

“Probably because of the new extermination date.” Husk chimes in from the back. He popped out from his cozy nap spot under the bar counter to check out what all the fuss was about.

Charlie looks at him and says, “What do you mean?”

"Think about it." Husk tells her, “It’s no secret that Carmilla is one of the good parents in Hell, and she definitely wants her kids to be safe.”

“Since the time for extermination is shorter now, she’s really going to have to up her game to get it done. You’re a hellborn and the princess of Hell, so wherever you decide to settle in will definitely be the top hiding spot in all of Pride. She likely hopes you'll take a liking to Pentious, her youngest, so he can settle in with you.”

Charlie and Vaggie exchange glances, their eyes wide as they start to grasp what Husk just said. Carmilla seems to want to make sure her youngest child is kept safe and hidden during this upcoming extermination, which is likely to be pretty brutal. Where could she possibly find a safer spot than wherever the princess of Hell is hiding out?

The King and Queen definitely made sure the best hiding place for their beloved daughter, and if Charlie likes Pentious, he can join in too.

“Oooohhhh…” Charlie gives a nod, showing he gets it.

What Husk didn’t mention is that Carmilla probably sent Pentious to keep an eye on the princess and the hotel to figure out what kind of threat it could pose. From what Alastor told him, it seems like Carmilla really cares about keeping things in order and balanced in the Pride Ring. Always trying to keep the overlords from going wild and taking each other out, which would definitely throw the city into chaos.

She probably figures that the shorter extermination time is connected to the princess and her family.

Who else could have been able to reach out to Heaven?

Pentious might not even realize he's a spy. He's just going to tell his mom about his day at the hotel and spill all the details without even thinking twice.

There was just one thing that really bugged Husk.

Why the sudden interest in the early extermination and the princess? What’s so special about this extermination? Well, aside from being a bit earlier than usual, of course.

Is Carmilla planning something? Or does she know something that they don’t?

By the looks he exchanged with Alastor, it was clear they were both on the same page—What’s Carmilla’s angle in all of this?

Chapter Text

Now, at Vees' headquarters. A large crowd has gathered outside a store, watching an ad on the TVs in the window that’s showing off a spy drone.

[New VoxTek designer voyeur scopes. Peeping on the neighbors has never been more stylish. VoxTek! Trust us with your money!]

Once the ads wrap up, the crowd rushes into the store and stampedes out with boxes of voyeur scopes.

[This week's episode of "Yeah, I Fucked Your Sister, So What?" is brought to you by VoxTek.]

Two sinners are hanging out in an apartment, completely engrossed in a trashy sitcom by Voxtek, their eyes glued to the TV screen as they soak in every moment of the show.

[Trust us with your entertainment!]

Random sinners are now watching their computers, laptops, and phones with their focus completely on them. It’s like they are in a trance.

It is then revealed their eyes are swirling, signifying the work of hypnosis.

In a large room where TVs are displaying a bunch of consumers while the phrase "Trust us" keeps playing on repeat. Electricity courses through the air as a guy with a TV for a head gets up from his chair, laughing wildly at the consumerism of his audience.

“Muhahaha! Now that's good television!” He lets out a wicked laugh and says.

Suddenly, his screen changes to show an icon of a black and red doll sinner with dark skin. The caller ID pops up, and it says her name is Velvette, another one of the Vees. She's got a clown horn ringtone going off when she calls him.

The TV sinner takes the call from his screen and, using his electric powers, sends it to one of his many screens. There, Velvette appears in her studio, sporting a big ponytail. He takes a seat in his chair and grabs his coffee mug that’s right by him.

“Hello there, Velvette! How are you this hellish morning?” He gives her a nod while sipping from his coffee mug.

“Oh, cut the shit, Vox. I need you up here now!” Velvette demands.

Vox glances at one of his screens while taking another sip from his coffee mug.

“What could possibly be the problem, my dear?” He asks her, clearly not really focused on what’s going on.

The screen displaying Velvette is shaking, suggesting there's some chaos happening at her studio. She then says, “Your little boy toy is wrecking in my department while I'm trying to pull together a show and—”

Behind the scenes, you can hear workers running and shouting, with things being thrown around, while a voice is heard cursing.

“THAT FUCKING BITCH!” the voice cursed out.

In the background, there's blood splatter everywhere, with body parts flying around and workers hurrying to regain control of the situation.

“Just get your ass here, NOW!” Velvette yells at Vox. She turns her head away from the screen and shouts, “Damn it, Valentino!”

The call wraps up, and Vox's smile disappears as he stands up, letting out a sigh and adjusting his bowtie.

“'Oh god. Here I go, Valentino.' Just another fucking day with Val. Hey-hey-hey. Fuck my life.” As he strolls to the platform, he mutters to himself, a bit annoyed.

In the lobby of the main Vees towers, there is an elevator featuring a cheerful Vox, with a world bubble on its door that says "Trust us!" The door swings open, and there’s a Vox just standing there, looking a bit annoyed at first. He let out a sigh, but then he quickly switched to a smile for the group of reporters ready for an interview. They crowd around, each one aiming their microphones at him.

“Mr. Vox! What do you think about the new extermination deadline?” A reporter is asking him questions, her microphone aimed right at him.

Vox flashes a big, fake business smile and starts talking.

“My dear people! We at VoxTek Enterprises have always been at the forefront of innovation. And now, with this new oncoming threat, we are shifting our focus to your protection. We are pleased to announce—”

A TV screen pops up next to him, displaying an ad with the VoxTek logo, now in gold and sporting angelic wings, along with the tagline—

“VoxTek Angelic Security is coming soon! Trust us, with YOUR safety.”

Vox stares at the crowd with his left eye, using it to hypnotize them just like he does with his consumers. All the reporters are just standing there, totally zoned out, with blank looks on their faces like they’re in some kind of trance.

Vox’s assistant, an eel sinner, lightly walks up to his boss and asks, “Uh, sir, when did we begin working on Angelic Security?”

“Thirty seconds ago.” Vox replies. The assistant trails behind him as he starts to walk off, moving past the group of reporters who are still hypnotized.

“Try to get that bitch Carmilla on the books and cancel all my appointments today. I have a fire to put out upstairs.” He tells his assistant what he needs him to do.

He then morphs his body into electricity and generates himself into the security camera on the wall.

The staff at Velvette's studio are busy cleaning up since things are a bit a mess around there. Blood splatters are all over the place, and clothes are scattered around the studio. It really seems like a hurricane came through here and just turned everything into a chaotic mess.

Velvette strolls over to her designers, who are all holding up dresses to show her.

“No.” She turns down the first dress from the designer.

“Unacceptable,” she says with a quick glance at it.

“You're fired,” she tells the third designer.

“What’s this?” She pulls up the sleeves of the fourth designer dress with her fingers.

“Wrist ruffles?! Is this 1750?! BURN IT like the witches who wore it!” She shouts at the designer to get it done right away.

As she sends the designer away, Vox appears next to her.

“Velvette! I can see you're busy. Tell me, where's our hot-headed friend now?” He walks into the room and gives her a friendly greeting.

Velvette turns to face him and says, “Up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down!”

Vox lets out an annoyed sigh and asks her, “And uh, what's got him so out of sorts today?”

“Who knows? Probably another tantrum of not having a star for his shows!” Velvette shrugs off, not caring for Val.

“But he tore up my best model! And you know, the show can't wait for that unlucky bitch to pull herself back together!” She says to Vox, clearly upset. Her show has turned into a disaster thanks to Valentino's little outburst.

She turns around and shouts, “Melissa! Get over here!”

Melissa hops onto the platform, a bit nervous, while Velvette waves her hand back and forth, using her overlord powers to switch out Melissa's outfit.

“No. No. Hideous. I want to die. Eww.” Velvette says this while she keeps swiping her hand back and forth.

Finally, Velvette lets out a happy gasp, “Yes! That's the one!”

“Ahh, looks like you have everything under control here.” Vox says to her,

Velvette turns and shoots him an angry glare, “Are you fuckin’ kidding me!! Of course not!!”

“Thanks to your piss baby, not only my models are in pieces. Ugh, with that disgusting moth around here, all the kids have to leave because of that restraining order!!”

She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through her contacts. “Now, they ran off to who knows where and are doing god knows what!!”

Velvette taps a contact on her phone and starts calling someone, “Stacy!! You better find those rugrats if you know what’s good for you!!!”

“And make sure they don’t stuff those fat-filled doughnuts into the holes they call mouths while you are at it!! Who knows what it’ll do to those hips? I, sooo, don’t have time for any resizing of the costumes!!”

Velvette rubs her head, feeling a migraine creeping in and just wishing it would go away. She quickly goes back to texting someone on her phone, but it looks like they're not responding at all.

“So….all the kids went AWOL on you?” Vox asks after watching Velvette shouting at her employees.

“Ugh…Can't you tell just by looking?! And that pint-sized twink Angel Dust is totally ignoring my calls and texts!!" Velvette says, while scrolling through her phone.

Vox lifts an eyebrow in surprise. “So, Angel's not around?”

“No, he moved out and is staying at that hotel run by Miss Prissy Princess,” Velevtte says, still focused on her phone.

“The fucking brat! Does he know how much work needs to be rescheduled now that he's not on call 24/7? What a selfish tween!!”

Vox takes a closer look at Velvette and asks, “So, Angel is... living with Lucifer's daughter now?”

“Yeah! Miss Disney Princess opened this hotel to, you know, supposedly ‘help’ sinners." Velvette air-quotes around the word ‘help.’

She wraps up what she's doing on her phone and glances at Vox, “And now, I can’t even go get him without causing a huge fuss! What a fucking bitch!”

“Yeah, well. Our brand is perfection, and if we just waltz over there and cause trouble, things could get messy,” Vox says, casually walking over to the nearest TV screen and turning on a live feed from a drone he just sent to the hotel to keep an eye on things.

The VoxTek Voyeur scope is up in the sky close to the hotel, and it's currently capturing everything that's going on there. From up above, the drone captures Charlie and the group talking with Carmilla’s son, Sir Pentious, outside. In the shot, there's a full-body static covering one kid, which indicates it's Alastor, and his power seems to be messing with the camera drone. It looks like he's getting into a bit of an argument with Pentious.

Vox’s TV head starts to glitch as he figures out who the static kid is, “IS THAT FUCKING ALASTOR?!” He slams his hands on the table, “HE’S BACK!?!”

“Oh yeah. He has been staying with the princess at the hotel with Angel,” Velvette says casually while scrolling through her phone for messages.

“Alastor...came back...and he is with Lucifer's *glitches* daughter, and that wasn't the FIRST FUCKING THING YOU TOLD ME?!?!?!” Vox's voice starts to wobble as he glitches more and more.

Velvette glances up at him and gives an exaggerated eye roll. “And feed into your creepy obsession with this kid? Yeah, right! You do your thing, and I'll do mine!"

Vox keeps glitching out while he yells in frustration.

“Take that back, you juvenile deer. I'm definitely not a whiny, snot-nosed mommy's boy!” Pentious is shouting at Alastor.

Alastor chuckles and laughs at Pentious, saying, “Oh, please! I’ve actually seen you wrap yourself around your mother's leg! If that’s not a mama's boy, I don’t know what is!"

Pentious, feeling irritated by Alastor's comment, exclaims, “Well, that's the pot calling the kettle black! I have heard you on what you called Ms.Rosie! Who's the mommy's boy now?!"

Alastor's eyes shift into red dials, and in a twisted voice, he warns, “You better go no further, chum! Or you will come to regret it…”

“Or what? You jerk!” Pentious challenges him.

“Now, now. Let’s not start another fight. How about we go inside for cookies and snacks?” Charlie asks, hoping to calm down the two kids who are arguing.

“Or this!” Alastor shouts as he calls forth his shadowy tentacles.

The tentacles wrap around Sir Pentious, spin him around in the air, and then send him flying over to Carmilla’s District.

Alastor covers his eyes and squints into the distance, shouting to Pentious, “Have a safe trip home!!”

Alastor chuckles as he spins around and makes his way back into the hotel. Charlie and Vaggie step in before he can get to the hotel, clearly not happy with what Alastor just did to Pentious.

Vaggie, arms crossed, yells, “What the fuck, Alastor?! You really can't just throw Pentious around like that!! He's just a kid; who knows how much it will hurt when he lands?!"

Angel nearby says, “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Kids are tougher than ya’ might think; sending him off like that won’t actually hurt him too much."

“Besides, it's not like this is the first time kids are being tossed here and there. If anything, these kinds of things happen to kids, especially the smaller ones, all the time.”

Charlie takes a quick look at Angel before shifting his attention back to Alastor. “Wow! Okay! A lot to unpack there, but we will get back to it later!”

“But first, Alastor. Vaggie has a point; you really shouldn't just throw kids or people aside like that, especially if they're your friend. It's important to treat your friends well; they in fact shape who you become and help keep loneliness away.”

She then says, “If you keep treating your friends like that, one day you might end up alone, with no one around to keep you company or lend a hand when you need it.”

Alastor's face scrunches up in annoyance at Charlie as he says, “I am perfectly fine being on my own! Friendship and feelings just weigh you down from accomplishing your goal or are a sign of weakness!”

“This is Hell! Relying on or being close to someone means someday you will owe them a favor or they expect you to pay them back. Being alone is a much better option than being in debt with someone!”

Charlie, surprised by what Alastor just said, attempts to respond, “But—”

“No Buts! You don’t get how much friendship or wanting one can screw you over if you are not careful!” Alastor shouts at her before she has a chance to say anything.

Alastor is certainly becoming more and more irritated; his shadows are starting to act up, and the ground beneath him is beginning to crack a little. This whole idea of someone wanting to be near him is obviously bringing up an awful memory, and he is becoming increasingly distressed over it.

Charlie and Vaggie are doing their best to help him calm down, while the other kids are hiding out in the hotel. Once Husk picked up on Alastor's shift in mood, he quickly pulled both Angel and Niffty inside.

Alastor, not in the mood for anyone, slipped into his shadows and vanished into his room. His room door now has a wooden sign that reads, ‘Do Not Disturb,’ and just below it, there’s another sign that says, ‘Go Away.’ There's a third one just kind of hanging below the other two, saying, 'This means you, Charlie & Vaggie.'

Velvette and Vox both focus on the screen as Alastor throws a little fit. Even though they can't hear what he's saying, it's clear from what he's doing that he's still just as powerful as always. Just a little breakdown, and one can really see the outcome of it.

“Well, that’s just a waste of time. All we see is that little kid throwing a fit and marching off in a huff.” Velvette, says, raising her eyebrows, clearly not caring of it.

Vox wasn’t really paying much attention to what Velvette was saying. Vox's left pupil morphs into a tilde as he observes Alastor fading into the shadows, his figure becoming static and blurry. The screen gets a little fuzzy and then turns off.

“That FUCKING BRAT is back!” Vox shouts at the screen that just went dark.

Velvette glances at him and, with a hint of sarcasm, asks, “So, I’m guessing you’re just going to forget about heading to Val now?”

“It's been seven years!” He exclaims to no one in particular.

Velvette rolls her eyes and goes back to her phone, saying, “You realize that obsession of yours is kind of creepy and pathetic, right?”

“Uh, FUCK YOU.” Vox shouts in response.

“Just telling it like it is,” Velvette says while brushing him off.

Vox glances over, and Velvette says to her, “Things have changed a lot since he left town.”

“Yeah! All thanks to you! We fuckin’ have to clean up that huge mess!!” Velvette gives him the finger while saying that.

Vox walks off quickly, saying, “I gotta send a message of who's REALLY in charge of things now!”

“You aren’t listening to me at all, aren’t you?” Velvette comments while she watches him walk towards his surveillance room.

Vox’s surveillance room is a glowing red pit, and there are these cybernetic sharks swimming around in the walls. Vox has a bridge that leads him to the circular center area. That's where his seat is, along with a bunch of monitors and screens, letting him spy on everyone around him.

Vox walks into his surveillance room and heads over to his chair. He begins to sing about how he feels about Alastor.

“Welcome home!” He starts to sing as he makes his way to his chair. “I'm gonna make you wish that you stayed gone!”

He sings ‘Welcome Home’ to Alastor, but he also mentions that Alastor will regret coming back. Vox claims that he's going to make Alastor wish he stayed gone.

As he settles into his seat, Vox lets a jolt of energy run through his arm. He sits back in his chair and turns to look at the many screens around him. He sings about Hell establishing a new status quo and how he's at the forefront of it.

Vox presses a big red button, and suddenly, four cords snap into place at the back of his head, linking him up to his TV networks. He quickly tells his team to start a live broadcast, and everyone in the studio gets to work.

“Everyone knows that there's a brand-new dawn; turn the TV ON!” When he starts singing, everyone gets to work.

They kicked things off by rolling the camera, and just like that, Vox’s program was live on TV.

Every television in Hell suddenly cuts to a live broadcast featuring Vox singing about the Radio Demon's return to the city. He then asks his audience, "What does this mean for you or your family?"

He tells them he has some good news to share. He tells the crowd that the Radio Demon is a loser and a brat. He doesn't want to sound hostile, but honestly—

“The demon is a coward!” Vox is singing along with a chorus in the background.

Vox sings that the Radio Brat isn't something to be worried about and that he's really just a relic from the last century.

“I hope he had a nice vacay!” He sings to Alastor, “But he should have stayed away!”

In his hotel room, Alastor tunes in with his radio waves and catches all of Vox's bullshit on live TV, listening to that TV head slander him left and right. He suddenly has a great idea and rushes over to his radio tower right away.

Vox keeps on singing, while the brat seems to be stuck in a radio era; everyone else has moved on to video. And now his medium is getting bloody rare.

“Hell's been better since he split,”

He makes his way down a hallway in V Tower, where he jumps, twirls, and then pulls Valentino and Velvette in close.

“Where's he been?” He sings with the two in his arms about how things have been better since he split from Hell. “Who gives a shit?!”

Vox claims he really doesn’t care about where Alastor has been all this time. It was pretty obvious from his face that he was lying, and one could see he was in fact curious about where Alastor was.

“Salutations!” The radios of Hell crackled to life, and there was Alastor’s voice coming through on the other end. “Good to be back on the air.”

Alastor makes his reappearance as he starts with his radio broadcast from a station perched in the top corner of the Hazbin Hotel. He doesn't really know how to use the broadcasting system since he never got the chance to learn it. But as time goes on in Hell, he picks up the basics and figures out how to blend his magic with the system, allowing him to control it as he desires.

In his radio show, Alastor declares that he is indeed back, with plans to entertain and wreak havoc in Pentagram City. He begins to sing about how Vox is just a sad guy who only goes after fame and cash, nothing more. He keeps altering himself to win people over since his true self is so unlikeable.

“Every day he's got a new format!” He shares his songs with his listeners through the radio.

“YOU'RE LOOKING AT THE FUTURE!” Vox is singing, taking a shot at Alastor. “He's the shit that comes before that!”

Vox fired back, saying that Alastor is just a kid stuck in the past and really needs someone to show him a thing or two about modern life. Alstor throws some shade at Vox, saying that without the other Vees, Vox is just a weak, pathetic sinner with no chance of becoming an Overlord.

“He'd be powerless without the other Vees!” Alastor is singing while mocking Vox on the radio.

Vox angrily sings back, “Oh, PLEASE!”

With a smirk, Alastor shares this little gem: “And here's the sugar on the cream.”

He shares a fun little tidbit for his listeners; Vox originally wants Alastor to join his team, but Alastor is like, "No way am I teaming up with this slimeball of an adult." He sings with a bit of a smirk, saying Vox is so pathetic that just getting turned down by a kid has him throwing a fit like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“You fuuu—cking BRAT! I'll show y-you, suffering!" He shouts, glitching out as he tries to threaten Alastor.

“Uh oh, the TV is buffering!” Alastor says to him with a grin.

“I'LL DESTROY YOOOOU-YOU LIT-T-LE—” was all he could manage before everything went haywire and crashed. Vox ends up having this huge outburst that completely overloads everything—all the TV screens and even Valentino and Velvette's phones. It causes a blackout all over Pentagram City, except for the Hazbin Hotel.

“Let's begin,” Alastor sings ominously over the radio. “I'm gonna make you wish that I stayed gone!”

Alastor gradually transforms into his true demon form and declares that, one way or another, he's gonna make Vox wish that he stayed gone. He will one day see to it that Vox will be in his broadcast scream program, and when that day comes, he will have so, so much fun.

Alastor lets out an eerie, childlike laugh before he cuts off Vox's signal throughout the city, leaving the overlord dismayed that Alastor is still as powerful as he was last time.

“FUU-UU-UCK!” yells Vox.

Chapter Text

Vox, Velvette, and Valentino are gathered in a conference room right now, having an emergency meeting to talk about something important with Alastor. While a robot named Kitty is busy serving drinks to everyone.

The conference room is a dark blue space with walls that function as a shark tank, containing cybernetic sharks that swim within it. There is a long table with several black office chairs on both sides and a bigger dark blue chair at the end for Vox to sit. There are also demonic plants potted in the corners of the room.

Vox addresses his two partners, “We have a problem. Alastor is getting pretty close to little Princess Morningstar, so what we really need to focus on now is making sure that no deal ever goes down between Lucifer's—”

He slams his fist on the table. “—brat and that smiling twerp!”

Velvette, scrolling through her phone without glancing at Vox, asks, "Well, how exactly are we supposed to stop it?"

Valentino is in the process of adding some sparkle to his revolver. He's slathering on a bunch of glue and covering it up with some glitter and marbles.

He is a very tall moth demon with lavender skin and pupil-less pink eyes, which he wears over with gold-rimmed, heart-shaped sunglasses. His wings are wrapped around his body to form a floor-length coat with white fur at the wrists, as well as black-and-white-striped fur trim down the center-front to the bottom hem.

He is known as The Porn Overlord, and there are quite a handful of restraining orders involving kids against him.

“Put something inside them. That's how I get the bitches to behave.” He says while he's trying to stick a marble onto the glue gloop.

The other two Vees look at him in disbelief; did Valentino really just hear what he said? He said it in a way that could easily be misunderstood.

“Gross! That’s why you had all that restraining orders” Velvette says to her fellow Vee Porn Overlord.

“Disturbing phrasing aside... .Well, maybe someone on the inside isn't such a bad idea.” Vox strokes his chin, pondering over this idea.

He looks over at Velvette and says, “Do you think Angel would?”

Velvette, still scrolling through her phone, said, “That annoying tween won't even pick up my calls.”

Vox takes a sip of his drink and then slams his glass down on the table. He gets up and starts pacing around the room, saying, “We need someone that Little Miss Bleeding Heart would take in.”

“Someone...pathetic, desperate, with no direct ties to us?” Velvet is saying

Val, still sitting there, says, “I employ every down-on-their-luck loser this side of Hell. Who the fuck is left?”

Vox slams his hand on the glass of his fish tank and says, “Come on, people! Think! There’s bound to be someone who is able to slip into that hotel for us!”

“With every second that passes, it means that Alastor is getting close to Lucifer’s brat, and with her goody-two-shoes act, she probably got him reeled in and vice-versa!”

Valentino and Velvetter exchange a quick look before turning their attention to Vox. It seems like there's more going on here than just the worry about Alastor striking a deal with Lucifer’s daughter.

“Are you talking about your thing for that Radio Brat? If that's the case, I'm out. There are even some kinks that, even I, don’t want to touch.” Val makes inappropriate comments as he speaks to Vox.

“IT IS NOT A KINK!! I AM NOT THAT KIND OF PERSON!” Vox responds with a defensive shout.

Val lifts both his hands and says, “Hey, I’m not judging. You do you, my man.”

Velvette did have something to say to Vox, “If this is about your weird obsession with getting the Radio Brat for yourself, then you can count me out too!”

Vox looks at his two partners in betrayal, struggling to wrap his head around the fact that they’re not stepping in to help him with this.

“Wait, what?! Why are you all backing out?! What about Alastor getting close to the princess?" He shrieks as he begins to glitch out.

“Yeah…no. Not touching that hole, not after what happened seven years ago,” Valentino says, standing up from his seat and gathering his things, getting ready to head out of the room.

Velvette stands up and says to Vox, "You got that right! I'm not cleaning up the mess you make again!" She gives Vox the finger before walking out of the room. “Good luck in your pathetic attempts, Vox! Looks like you are going to need it!”

As Valentino and Velvette head out, Vox shouts after them, “Fine! I don’t need you all! I’ve got this covered myself!”

The door to the conference room slams shut, and Vox finds himself alone, lost in his own thoughts.

“As soon as I figure out how….” As he looks at his fish tank, he rubs his chin and cradles his glass in his hands.

Back at the hotel, Vaggie and Charlie are standing outside Alastor's room door. They're talking about whether Charlie's plan is a good idea or not.

"I don't know, Charlie… He looked pretty upset already.” Vaggie says, a bit unsure.

“What if this plan just makes him even angrier than he is right now? He's going to create even more problems for the hotel than it already has."

Vaggie is talking about the wall that's damaged, in the lobby downstairs. Alastor hasn't been able to fix it because of his little outburst earlier today, and he's been locked in his room ever since. So they've put a tarp over that big hole in the wall for now, but they can still feel the wind slipping in from outside through it.

“Don’t worry, Vaggie! They are both good kids deep down.” Charlie assures Vaggie. “They just need a little nudge and some guidance to get on the right track.”

Charlie turns to the door and gives it a knock. “Alastor! It’s me, Charlie! Can you come out for a bit?”

A voice calls out from the other side of the door, “Go away, Charlie! Read the sign!”

“Come on, Alastor! Me and Vaggie are really worried about you! We just want to talk!” Charlie yells in response.

“No! I don’t want to!” Alastor shouts from his room.

Vaggie steps forward and calls out, “Alastor! Your choice! You either can come out, or we’ll just have to come in! Guess what? We’ve got the master key!!"

Charlie leans in and whispers to Vaggie, “Vaggie! You can't do that! Privacy is really important for kids!" She gives Vaggie a disappointed look.

“Just barging in like that will definitely make them lose trust in you.”

Charlie tells Vaggie as though she has been through this before, which she very certainly has—after all, she did go through an emo phase once.

Vaggie, sensing Charlie’s disappointment, pulls back a little. She doesn't really know much about kids and how they feel, so her direct approach can sometimes put them off or make them feel like they can't trust her.

“Sorry, babe. I guess I haven't really gone through something like this before. This is all new to me," Vaggie says, giving Charlie an apologetic look.

Charlie puts a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile, and says, “Hey, don’t worry, I’m figuring this out too. Let's tackle this together." She smiles gently at Vaggie.

Vaggie glances at her girlfriend with a warm smile, feeling grateful to have someone like Charlie by her side.

“Are you both quite done?” Suddenly, a voice chimes in between them.

Charlie and Vaggie snap back to reality and quickly look over to the side, trying to figure out where that voice came from.

It’s Alastor. It looks like he has decided to come out of his room and speak to Charlie and Vaggie while they are having their moment. He’s been watching the couple share a moment for a while, but eventually got bored and decided to let them know he was there.

“Oh, Alastor! You’re finally out of your room!” Charlie excitedly shouts at him.

Alastor looks at her with a straight face and says, “Yeah, I couldn’t just ignore the fact that you two nosy ladies are going to barge into my room like that.”

Vaggie winces a little when Alastor says that, feeling a bit guilty about what she had mentioned before.

“So… Alastor…” Charlie says, trying to ease into the topic of conversation.

“I was just thinking, what if you went over to Pentious’s place and said sorry to him? You can patch things up and be friends again!" Charlie suggests to Alastor.

Vaggie jumps in, “And don’t forget, we need to bring his eggs home too. We really can’t let them run around the hotel and create a mess."

She’s talking about the egg-bois that came along with Pentious, which got left behind after Alastor sent him back to Carmilla’s district. They're just running around the hotel lobby and causing somewhat of a mess.

Alastor crosses his arms and says, “No! I will not apologize to that whiny snake boy.”

“Come now, Alastor. You need to learn how to start treating your friends better, and what better way than by starting to make up with him?” Charlie talks to Alastor softly, like a teacher guiding a child on how to behave properly.

“I still don’t want to!” Alastor shouts out to the girls.

Vaggie placed her hands on her hips and said to Alastor, “Well, you’re going to have to. You're going to be hanging out with Pentious for the rest of the day."

“Wait, what?!” Alastor yells at her.

“It’s my idea, actually!” Charlie exclaims excitedly. “What better way to learn to treat your friends better than by spending time with them!”

“You and Pentious can bond and have some fun together. By the end of the day, you guys will get to know each other a bit better and feel closer because of it!”

Charlie gets really excited when she talks about the boys hanging out and having a great time together. She can already imagine the end result, where Alastor and Pentious are the best of friends, happily playing together like kids.

Vaggie then gives Charlie a gentle shake to bring her back from her daydream.

Charlie glances over at Alastor and says, "Alright, Alastor! Let’s get you all set for your playdate! I gave Carmilla a call, and she said it’s okay for you to be there."

“She’s just mainly concerned about her son’s egg-bois, but she mentioned you can hang out with him for a bit, just know she’ll be keeping an eye on things.” Charlie mentions it casually, almost as an afterthought.

Alastor rolls his eyes and says with a hint of sarcasm, “Oh, fun…”

He then glares at Charlie and Vaggie. “There is no way you can make me go for this playdate.”

“Bye, Alastor!” Charlie leans out of the car window, calling out and waving goodbye to him. “We'll come by to pick you up later today!" She says excitedly.

Alastor is standing by the gate entrance of one of Carmilla’s factories. He's simply just waiting there since that's where Pentious is supposed to meet him. Charlie and Vaggie are in the car behind him, just having dropped him off from the hotel. They're getting ready to head off to their next destination.

Alastor's face is all scrunched up, showing he's definitely not happy with how things are going.

Egg-bois are darting around his feet, having a blast just like little kids do when they're playing tag with their friends. Alastor just stands there, arms crossed, not even glancing back at Charlie in the car.

Charlie rolls up the car window, waves one last time, and then the car speeds away from the compound. They're heading over to the Doomsday District, looking to bring in more sinners for their hotel there.

After a little while, Pentious walks out from the main door of the factory and makes his way over to Alastor. Pentious's first sight is his egg-bois, and he feels a wave of relief to see them back with him, safe and sound. He lets out a joyful squeal, and Alastor flinches at the sound, his sensitive ears not quite ready for it. Pentious hurries over to his eggs and wraps them in a warm hug.

“Ahhh! My eggs! Yay! Ah, it's so good to have you back! I missed you all so much!” Pentious says, tears welling up in his eyes, as he keeps them close.

“Wow, boss. So, where did we end up going? Did we miss you while we were gone?" One of the eggs asks obliviously.

Pentious releases his hugs and gently sets them down on the floor.

“No matter! Now that you're back, we can move forward with our plans for the upcoming domination!" He says, striking a dramatic pose with his hood thrown back and his hand in a bit of an awkward position.

Alastor stays silent, taking in everything happening right before his eyes. This snake kid is way more childish and annoying than he realized; there's no way he's sticking around for the rest of the day with him here. He's seriously thinking about walking back to the hotel the long way.

It's quite a walk, and to reach that hotel, he'd need to walk through the Entertainment District. He really doesn’t want to, and he’s not keen on being bothered by the Vees and their presence either.

“What to do? What to do?” Alastor was lost in his own thoughts.

Pentious calls out to him, “Alastor, Mother just told me we’re supposed to spend the day together and ‘hang out,’ or something like that.”

He waves his hand toward the main door and says, “Shall we head in and have some fun with games and activities to strengthen our bond?”

Pentious then pulls out a board game and says, “How about we play my favorite game, Hell Scrabbles? But be warned, someone with my skills isn't really worried about being beaten by someone like you.”

He gives the game box a little shake and says, “Don't worry; I'll make sure to lower the difficulty for you.”

Alastor looks at him with a straight face and says, “I think I’ll pass on that offer, if you don’t mind. I don’t really care for Scrabble."

“Hmm…If this game isn’t your thing, what about this one?” He pulls out another board game, and this one seems a bit more handmade.

Alastor squints at the scratchy title; it’s a little tricky to read, but eventually he manages to make out the title, “Dance and Ladders”.

“Dance and Ladders?” Alastor raises an eyebrow and asks, “Shouldn’t it be Snakes and Ladders?”

“No, you read that right. It's Dance and Ladders!" Pentious points to the artwork he made on the box.

“Imagine playing Snakes and Ladders, but instead of landing on a snake, you land on a dance tile! When that happens, you’ve got to get up and show off your dance moves in front of everyone else!”

“So, you just dance like an idiot in front of everyone when you land on that dance tile?” Alastor asks Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious, thinking Alastor is interested, excitedly says, “Yes! And there’s no music either! You dance with your feelings and imagination!"

Alastor can’t help but think that walking back to the hotel is starting to sound like a pretty solid plan at this point.

Alastor decides to give Pentious one last chance, asking, “So, is there a third option for our ‘bonding’ activity?”

Sir Pentious is a little dismayed; he really thought Alastor enjoyed his Dance and Ladders game. He pauses for a bit, but nothing comes to mind. Pentious, not wanting to come off as rude for being quiet for a while, suddenly pipes up, “How about we have a tea party with the egg-bois?”

Alastor, to his surprise, responds, “Oh! That sounds like a great idea! To be honest, I really enjoy tea parties and have attended several of them."

Pentious is a little taken aback; he had no idea his friend enjoyed tea parties just like he does. He often faces teasing from other kids for enjoying this activity that's considered girly, even though he's a guy. To avoid getting teased any more, he often hosts tea parties by himself and with his egg-bois.

Sometimes, his mom and sisters join him for tea, talking about their day. It became one of his favorite activities with them.

“So, what will we be doing at this tea party?” Alastor, asks Pentious.

Pentious begins to perk up as he shares about his cozy little private tearoom for his parties. He talks about how he serves real tea and tasty snacks, creating the perfect setting for everyone to chat and gossip together. It's mostly him talking with the egg-bois, but honestly, they hardly ever say anything interesting back.

"Oh, just to let you know, today’s menu is going to be completely vegan—no meat at all!” Pentious mentions it to Al.

“So, that means no treats, no sweets, and the desserts will mostly be made with Hell's version of soy.”

A record scratch sound can be heard.

“I beg your pardon? A completely vegan meal? Why?!” Alastor's voice gets a bit louder as he asks.

“My mom and sisters are doing one of those diet cleanses this month, and the whole family is going vegan.” Pentious explains.

That’s it! This is where Alastor draws the line! He can handle a forced playdate; he can put up with the snake's whiny, tearful wailing over his eggs; he can easily ignore the snake's boring game attempts!

But to have a tea party with no meat and to be a complete vegan. That’s just criminal for a cannibal kid like him!

He is going home, and he doesn’t care that he has to walk there and pass by the entertainment district. He's going to take his chances over there instead of here.

Alastor turns and starts to walk away from Pentious, making his way down the road. He's heading back to the hotel, and Charlie's just going to have to deal with it. He’s not planning to stick around with Snake Boy any longer than necessary.

As Alastor is walking away, Pentious calls out to him, “Wait!! Alastor! Where are you going?!”

“Back to the hotel! I’m not wasting another second with you or this ‘playdate,’” Alastor says with a huff, continuing on his way.

“But we’re supposed to hang out today,” Pentious says, trailing behind him. His egg-bois were right there behind him.

“I’m definitely not going to spend the day playing those boring board games or, even worse, going vegan,” he says, shuddering at the thought. “I’m heading back to the hotel, even if I have to walk!”

As Pentious sees Alastor walking away, he pauses for a second and then calls out, “Wait for me!! I’m coming too!!”

He quickly takes off after Alastor, trying to catch up, with his egg-bois trailing behind him.

Bonus:

Eventually, a sinner arrives at the factory gate, looking to meet her boss's son and his friend. Carmilla hired him to keep an eye on the kids, making sure her youngest was safe and sound.

The lazy sinner, thinking this would be a piece of cake, decided to take his eighth break of the day and ended up sleeping at his post. When he finally woke up and made his way to the meeting spot, the kids were already gone.

“I am SO fired,” he muttered, glancing around as if someone might hear him.

Chapter Text

The Entertainment District, true to its name, primarily houses businesses catering to the entertainment and pleasure of sinners. In this place, sinners can really let loose and enjoy their vices to the fullest. This district is bustling with casinos, bars, brothels, and much more. One can find just about any kind of entertainment one can think of in this district. Think of this area as similar to a mix of Vegas and L.A.

This district is mainly owned by the Three Vees, or just the Vees for short. A trio of powerful individuals who work together to control the entertainment and media industries. The main Vee is Vox, the TV demon in charge of the entertainment and news media of Hell. He is also in charge of Pentagram City's distribution of devices and electronics. He founded VoxTek and serves as its chief executive officer.

Valentino, the second Vee, is a tall, sinister moth with red wings. He's called the Porn Overlord and is the one behind the mature content in Pentagram City. He runs his own adult film studios, where he puts out a range of pornographic movies and shows for sinners to enjoy. He also runs a few brothels and has a number of workers under his contracts. He pimps them out for a crazy amount of money.

The third and last Vee is Velvette, a doll sinner with dark skin and customized hair. She's often called the social media overlord and handles all things social media. Alongside being a social media powerhouse, she’s also diving into the world of fashion design, working on fresh lines to strengthen her influence.

Furthermore, Velvette and Vox are in charge of the youth media and entertainment. A lot of entertainment aimed at teens, youth, and young kids are produced by both of them since they really know how to attract the attention of young audiences with their media.

However, Valentino is not allowed anywhere near their contracted youth. Vox and Velvette have no faith that Valentino will not do something stupid to the kids. Plus, it wouldn't look well on them if the Porn Overlord is around the kids. Due to a few incidents, Valentino also has ended up with several restraining contracts and can't be in the same room as any of the Vees' contracted kids.

Alastor is now walking down a street in the entertainment district, with Pentious and his eggs trailing behind him. He's walking quickly, trying to get through the district faster, he is also hoping to shake off Pentious in the process.

“Alastor! Are you really sure this is safe?” Pentious looks around at the bright surroundings and asks.

Everywhere, there are these bright neon signs advertising drugs, sex, and all sorts of things that kids really shouldn't be exposed to. Sex workers are all over the place, hanging out and showing off what they have to offer to attract clients.

“No, but this is the fastest way back to the hotel. So, I'm walking through this district." Alastor responds as he keeps walking.

Pentious looks a bit uncertain and says, “But, Mother says this district is dangerous. And I was told I should never come here by myself..."

Alastor rolls his eyes and says to Pentious, “You could always head back home.”

“No! Mother says to never be alone in this place, so I won’t be leaving you alone!” Pentious shouts out.

Alastor suddenly halted and turned to face Pentious. “No need to worry about me. I'm an Overlord, so I've got this covered."

“The things your mom is worried about for you don’t really apply to me. I'm not the same as you, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't compare us."

Pentious, still looking worried, says, “But this place is full with gross adults; even more than usual. As a fellow comrade, I just can’t leave a fellow kid behind."

Alastor and Pentious are now having a heated argument by the side of the road, so caught up in their bickering that they completely missed a few things happening around them. It looks like one of Pentious' egg-bois has gone missing. His name is Frank and he got a bit distracted and ended up wandering off from the group while the kids were having an argument.

The second is that they didn't realize there was a camera tucked away in a corner of the building, watching them closely. The camera is zoomed in on the two kids who are having a heated argument. Pentious is plainly visible in the live feed, however Alastor is hardly visible and is just static. The camera gives off a couple more static glitches before the screen goes completely black.

A figure can be spotted smiling from behind. He's been keeping an eye on the feed and now is aware that Alastor is in the entertainment district. He bursts into a wild laugh and starts to make his plans. Obviously, this figure is Vox.

While that's happening, Alastor and Pentious are still arguing, until one of the egg-bois pulls on Pentious' shirt. Pentious pauses his argument and glances at his egg-bois.

“Hey boss, Frank's not here anymore,” one of the egg bois says.

“We have names?” Another one asks.

“What?!” Pentious exclaims while counting his eggs, and sure enough, Frank is nowhere to be found.

He starts shouting for Frank, “Frank! Frank! FRANK!!” He keeps shouting louder and louder while looking for his missing egg.

“Looks like Frank has gotten a little lost, hmmm?” Alastor says, as he watches Pentious frantically scramble around looking for Frank.

“It seems like you’ll be busy for a while; guess I will be heading back to the hotel alone then.” He cheerfully says as he gets ready to walk away.

Just as he's about to leave, he catches the sound of sniffles coming from Pentious. He turns around and sees that Pentious is actually starting to cry. It begins with a few sniffles, then some hiccups, and now Pentious is just full-on crying in the middle of the street.

His crying has caught the attention of other sinners, and it seems like they might try to take advantage of the child who's distressed. Alastor notices a bunch of lecherous sinners creeping out from the shadows and making their way closer to them.

At this point, he could simply turn around and let Pentious face whatever was coming his way. But there’s something holding him back, like that annoying little voice in his head telling him he can’t just leave Pentious to fend for himself.

Plus, Carmilla would totally kill him if anything happened to her son.

Alastor lets out a sigh of defeat and releases some of his power. He reveals to the sinners that he's the Radio Demon, and getting any closer is an invitation to trouble. Many sinners back away when they see this, leaving the two kids on their own.

Alastor turns to Pentious and says, “Quit your whining, will you? I'll help you find your Little Egg Creature!

Pentious wipes away her tears and gazes at him, her eyes glistening, “Really? You’d actually do that for me??”

“Yes, just don’t let me regret it.” Alastor says, rolling his eyes. "Now stop sniveling; it's so pitiful."

Pentious rubs his eyes and takes a moment to stop sniffling. He doesn't understand why Alastor wants to help him, but he doesn’t care. Alastor is actually helping him!

He reaches out for a hug, but Alastor just sidesteps, leaving him to tumble to the ground.

“Don’t push it,” Alastor says to Pentious.

They start walking around the district, looking to see if they can find Frank nearby.

Down a quiet alleyway, Frank is wandering around, looking a bit lost and having trouble finding his way out.

“Uhhh…boss? Where are you?” He says while searching the area for his Snake Boy master.

Frank glances around the quiet alley, hoping to find his boss nearby. As he's looking around, he doesn't notice a figure suddenly pop up behind him. As he turns around, he sees a tall demon right in front of him, looming over him, with a TV for a head.

Vox approaches the egg with a sinister grin and a fake cheerful tone, saying, "Hello, little one! Looks like you're a bit lost, huh?"

Frank, not realizing what Vox has in mind or the danger that he's in, responds innocently, "Oh, yes. I'm trying to find my boss. Do you have any idea where he is?"

“Oh! Your boss! So, you're one of Sir Pentious's eggs, huh?" Vox asks, acting like he’s unaware of this fact.

Frank gives a nod and replies, “Yep! That's my boss! I’m trying to find him!”

Vox puts on a big fake smile and says to Frank, “Well, don’t you worry! I'm here to help you find him!"

“Really? Wow, that’s really nice of you, TV guy!” Frank says with a big smile.

“Of course, of course! That’s me! Mr.Nice Guy, who likes to help those in need,” Vox says with a smile.

Vox pulls out a lollipop and gives it to Frank. “Here, how about you enjoy this candy while I check for your boss with my cameras?”

Frank gives his thanks to Vox while cheerfully accepting candy from a total stranger.

“Thanks, TV guy.” Franks starts to lick the lollipop.

As Frank enjoys his lollipop, Vox turns around and begins to conjure a small cube camera in his hand. It's really tiny, so he has to be careful not to crush it in his hand. Vox then turns back at Frank, who’s still busy with his lollipop. He smoothly and swiftly takes off Frank’s top hat and sets the camera right on Frank’s head. Once he’s sure the camera is secure on Frank’s head, he carefully puts the hat back on, making sure it covers and hides the camera underneath.

However, while Vox is doing that, he's also monologuing to himself about his grand plan and what his plans are regarding Alastor.

“Once I get the details on the inside of the hotel, getting Alastor on his knees will be so much easier. Who knows, I might even grab a deal from the princess,” he chuckles, adding, “Or maybe I’ll get ahold of both Alastor’s and the princess’s soul!”

Two red lines show up on the left side of his lower lip as he chuckles to himself, imagining himself as the top dog in Hell, with both Alastor and Charlie under his thumb.

“And if Alastor is not cooperative, well, I already have a few things up my sleeves to make him!! I can’t wait! Alastor is going to be mine! With our powers combined, there’s no way anyone can stop me from taking over Hell! I’ll be the top dog for everything!!”

He bursts into hysterical laughter, talking to himself and gazing up at the crimson red sky. If someone passes by and sees this guy, they might think Vox is an insane person talking and laughing to himself. To be honest, that's pretty close to the truth.

Unbeknownst to Vox, Frank was listening to every word and managed to remember most of it. He may not be the smartest, but when Pentious made his eggs, he made sure they wouldn't forget things easily. In order to keep track of an order or command that's set for a long time, just in case.

Once Vox finishes his little talk with himself, he turns back to Frank and says, “Oh, would you look at that?” in a fully exaggerated surprised tone.

“Looks like I’ve found your boss! He's just down that street!" Vox says, gesturing down the street where he knows Pentious and Alastor are. “Why not head over there and catch up with your boss?”

“Wow! Thanks a lot, TV guy! I'm heading over to see my boss now!" Frank cheerfully says as he walks toward the direction Vox pointed out.

Just before Frank walked away from Vox, Vox quickly grabbed the lollipop from Frank's hand. He needs to make sure that there's no sign of Frank having any interaction with him.

Vox calls out to Frank, “Oh, before you head out, just remember to keep this meeting between us.” He gestures towards himself and Frank.

“I don’t want to let people know that I’m a good person; this is Hell after all,” Vox says, faking a smile.

“Sure thing, boss.” Frank responds casually, assuming it's an instruction. He walks down the street to where his snake boss is waiting.

Alastor and Pentious are walking down the street, trying to find Frank. Pentious keeps calling out for him, his voice echoing as he shouts, "Frank!"

“Frank! Where are you?! Frank!!!” Pentious shouts while Alastor trails behind.

He seems a bit bored as he follows behind Pentious, not calling out for Frank, but he's most certainly aware of what's happening around him, paying attention to any sign of Frank.

While they're wandering down the street, they notice something from the distance. It’s Frank! He’s right at the end of the street, making his way over to them. Pentious's eyes lit up with joy when he saw his egg, and he hurried over to give it a big hug. The other egg-bois and Alastor trail behind, getting closer to him.

"Oh, Frank!” We finally found you! Pentious says while giving him a hug. He then wraps his arms around Frank, holding him out and exclaims, “Where have you been?!”

"Well, I saw this cat with a really funny eye. It blinked funny, so I followed it. Then, there was this huge, bright sign with a cup on it, and I thought, ‘Hey maybe the boss might want a drink,’ so I headed over to it, and then I—"

Frank just kept talking and talking about how he wandered off and became distracted by all sorts of things.

Alastor's eye starts to twitch as the egg keeps yapping, and his annoyance builds up until he finally shouts, “Enough!! We get the point! You saw some shiny things and decided to go after it! End of story!"

He glances over at Pentious and says, “We found your egg. Now that’s all wrapped up, I’m going back to the hotel." Alastor turns around and heads back to the Hazbin Hotel.

Pentious, trailing behind him, shouts out, “Wait for me!” He's following Alastor, and all his egg-bois are right behind him.

From a distance, Vox observes them with a sinister grin, knowing full well that his plan is underway. Before long, Alastor will be his, and nothing's going to get in the way of that. He bursts into laughter, confident that his plan can't possibly fail.

With an audible “MUU HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” Vox lets out a maniacally laugh.

Somewhere nearby, a voice shouts out, “SHUT THE FUCK UP! YOU CRAZY ASSHOLE!!!”

Chapter Text

Back at the hotel, the hole in the wall is still there, but poorly covered with a large tarp. The wind is blowing in through the hole, making the tarp flap a bit as it catches the breeze. It appears the top part of the tarp is pinned to the wall, while the bottom half is just hanging down by the floor.

Charlie and Vaggie have just got back from their recruitment drive. Charlie flops down onto the couch, completely exhausted.

Angel, lounging on a nearby couch, casually asks, “Soooo? How'd it go?"

“Not a single new recruit.” Vaggie leans onto the couch where Charlie is lying down.

Angel glances at his phone and says to Vaggie, “Yeah well, who would wanna use their last days not fucking and fighting?”

While Angel is looking at his phone, Vaggie unexpectedly hears a knock at the front door. She walks over and swings the door open, only to be greeted by Sir Pentious, his egg-bois, and Alastor standing right there.

“Why are you even knocking on the door? I live here; we could have just gone right in.” Alastor questions Pentious.

Pentious replies, “It would be rude to not knock; I am a guest. Therefore, it is proper manners to knock before entering an establishment.”

Alastor just rolls his eyes and strolls right in, pushing past Vaggie. Pentious and his eggs stroll in right after as they make their way into the hotel lobby.

Vaggie looks over at Alastor and asks, “Alastor? What are you and Pentious doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at Carmine’s right now?”

“We’re supposed to pick you up from there in an hour from now.”

“I walked back, saving you the trip.” He casually says to Vaggie, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Vaggie pinches her nose and asks Alastor, "What’s Pentious doing here? Does his mom even know he's here?"

Charlie walks over to Vaggie and says, “Vaggie, what's the problem?” She then sees Sir Pentious and gasps, “Oh! Hello again!”

Charlie takes off his hat and greets Charlie. “Hello, Miss Charlie, good to see you again! I hope you are doing well today.”

“Awwww!! That's so sweet!" Charlie looks at Pentious with sparkly eyes, but she quickly follows up with the question, "Pentious, what are you doing here? Does your mom know you're here?"

Pentious looks away, avoiding eye contact with Charlie, and stammers, “Uhhh… She doesn't exactly know where I am right now..."

“What?!” She has no idea where you are?? You didn’t tell her before you left?” Charlie exclaims.

"Well, it was kind of a last-minute decision, with Alastor choosing to walk back here after all. He really shouldn't be by himself in the city." Pentious says awkwardly.

“Hey! You’re the one who decided to follow me! You could have just stayed home if you wanted to!" Alastor's voice cuts through the air.

Charlie and Vaggie share a look as they spot Alastor at the hotel bar, casually holding a glass of juice.

“Alastor, you’re supposed to spend the day with Pentious. Not just ditch him and come back straight away.” Vaggie says to him with a firm tone.

“Well, if he was not so boring or vegan, I would have stayed. But he is, so I left and walked back home,” Alastor replies casually.

Vaggie is rubbing her head again; that migraine is back. “Ugh….”

Charlie gives Alastor a disappointed look. “Alastor! You can't just walk away and leave Pentious all by himself like that! What if something happened to him?”

“But he didn’t leave me alone.” Pentious chimes in with his voice.

“Huh?” Charlie turns to Pentious and asks, “What do you mean by that?”

Pentious tells Charlie, “He helped me track down Frank!”

Pentious then starts to share how Alastor stayed with him in the entertainment district, helping him look for Frank and sticking by his side during the whole search.

Alastor, feeling a bit overwhelmed, quietly asks Husk to mix some booze into his juice to help him cope with the upcoming event he’s anticipating.

After Pentious wraps up his story, Charlie glances over at Alastor, her eyes glistening with tears and a huge smile lighting up her face. She dashes over to Alastor and wraps her arms around him in a big hug.

“Oh!! Alastor! I'm so proud of you! You really helped Pentious out there!!" Charlie excitedly exclaims while giving him a tighter squeeze, “I knew you had some good in you!! You're amazing!!"

“Yes, yes. I'm pretty exceptional. Could you please stop squeezing me now?" Alastor gasps, struggling to catch his breath.

Vaggie gently puts a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder and says, “Babe, I really think you should let go. You're squeezing him a bit too tight."

Charlie opens her eyes and notices that Alastor is turning blue and quickly releases him. “Oops, sorry, I forgot my own strength there.”

Alastor collapses onto the floor, struggling to take deep breaths.

Angel, now at the bar, leans over to Husk and whispers, “Is it me? Or did I jus' hear his bones crack right now?”

“No, it’s not you. I hear it too. I think Charlie might have broken a few ribs," Husk whispers to him.

Angel and Husk both flinch at that. Alastor just seems to shrug it off; he doesn't even look like he's in pain or showing any signs that he might have broken ribs. Charlie and Vaggie didn’t really seem to catch the cracking sound, so the kids just kept quiet about it.

Angel and Husk are definitely curious about just how high Alastor's pain tolerance really is.

Later in the evening, Charlie has brought everyone together in the hotel parlor. Most of them are sitting on the floor, while Charlie stands in front, ready to share some news.

“Alright, before we jump into this fun activity, let’s clear a few things up so we can really enjoy ourselves without any distractions.” Charlie shares the news with everyone in the room.

She glances over at Alastor and says, “Thanks to Alastor, our wall is finally getting fixed.”

Charlie points at the damaged wall in the bar area, catching everyone's attention. Currently, there's a bunch of shadow demons working on the repairs.

“It’s been a busy day, but Alastor managed to find the time to patch up the wall,” Charlie says with a grateful smile.

Vaggie rolls her eyes and says plainly, "Isn't that what he's supposed to do?"

“Still, I’m really thankful to Alastor for taking the time to fix our wall instead of just leaving it wide open with a tarp on it.” Charlie mentions after Vaggie.

“Of course! I am the one you can count on to finish the task!” Alastor says with a smug smile, puffing out his chest.

Husk and Angel just exchange eye rolls when Alastor says that. “What a drama queen,” they both thought.

Charlie then turns to Pentious and says, “Pentious, I called your mom and let her know where you are right now. She is not pleased with you, but I was able to smooth things over a bit."

“She and your sisters are very busy right now, so they won’t be able to take care of you tonight. It also looks like your caretaker for the day had to reschedule at the last minute, and unfortunately, there’s no one available right now on such short notice."

Pentious feels down when he hears this; lately, his mom and sisters have been busy, but they haven't let him help out. They've been acting really strange ever since the recent exterminations; it feels like there's something on their minds that they're unwilling to share with him. After the early extermination announcement, things really took a turn for the worse. It seemed to freak them out, and now they're being more secretive than ever.

Charlie notices that Pentious is a bit down about the news and decides to cheer him up by saying, “So, I had another talk with your mom, and you won’t believe what she said?!”

With a big smile, she tells him, “Guess what? Your mom said you can spend the night here at the Hazbin Hotel!”

“WHAT?!” Everyone in the room, except for Vaggie, Charlie, and Pentious, couldn't believe what they were hearing and shouted in surprise.

Angel stands up and says to Charlie, “Are you fucking nuts?! This chump attacked us with a bazooka, like, literally this morning! And now you wanna bring him in here to spend the night with us?”

“Don’t worry, Angel! He was just doing that so he can hang out with Alastor! Plus, his mom confiscated all of his weapons, so he is harmless right now.” Charlie says this to try to reassure Angel.

Husk also shares his thoughts and worries. “Don’t you think it’s weird that Carmilla is suddenly okay with all of this? It’s one thing to spend a few hours here, but it’s another to spend the night here.”

He crosses his arms and says, “This seems fishy; Carmilla is definitely up to something, and I doubt—” he gestures to Pentious with his thumb, “this dunderhead here knows anything. There's really no point in asking him."

“How rude! Mother is not planning to be nefarious regarding this hotel! If she is, I would know about it!” Pentious yells at Husk, standing up for his mom.

Husk just brushes him off and takes a swig from the bottle he’s holding. “Sure thing, buddy, whatever you say,” he says to Pentious with a hint of sarcasm.

Charlie goes in between them, trying to soothe the kids, saying, “Now, now. I get that this situation is a bit uncomfortable for everyone, so I came up with a fun game to help us all get to know each other better," she says, clapping her hands.

All of the kids have deadpan expressions on their faces; something tells them that the activity Charlie has planned for them will be neither fun nor exciting. It’s probably one of those games for little kids that they play at camps.

Charlie heads back to her spot and stands right in the center of the circle of kids sitting around her. Everyone's looking at her, waiting for her to start.

“Now, with a new friend, I think it's important we all get to know each other! So we are going to play a little game. Everyone, follow me.” Charlie points to herself and begins her activity, showing everyone how it's done by starting first.

“My name is Charlie!” She claps twice after saying that, then crouches down next to Vaggie and says, “I like to sing!” She gives a couple of claps again, and Vaggie can't help but smile at Charlie with affection when she does that.

Charlie stands back up and cheerfully says to everyone, “And when we get to know each other, it's the greatest thing!” She gives a couple of claps before wrapping up her introductions.

Yep. Just as they thought, this activity is stupid, and they hate it. Pentious appears to be the only one who is willing to participate, but he seems to enjoy everything.

Charlie waves her hand towards Pentious, letting him know it's his turn to introduce himself like that.

Pentious seems a bit hesitant before he says, “My name's Sir Pentious.” He gives a couple of claps. “I like to build,” he says, clapping his hands together twice after sharing that thought.

“And despite my stupid Egg Boiz,” Pentious says with a grin, "I think I'm very skilled!” He claps twice to wrap things up.

Charlie beams with pride as she gestures toward Angel in the corner, while Pentious mimics her, signaling that it's his turn.

Angel glances up from his phone, clearly not that interested. “This is stupid,” he says with a straight face.

“This- is not- stupid!” Charlie cheers, clapping her hands together twice. “It’s just a game!” she says with a couple of claps, moving closer to Angel.

“Sir Pentious did it well, so now please try to do the same!” Charlie gets louder and louder as she approaches Angel, wrapping up her sentence with a couple of claps.

Angel pinches the bridge of his nose and says, “I’m way too sober for this.”

Vaggie, sitting next to Angel, smirks and says, “Well, get used to it and learn how to play; this is gonna be your whole day!” She finishes it off with a couple of claps.

After Charlie's activity that most of the kids weren't really into, it's finally time for dinner. Niffty has cooked dinner for them tonight, so most of the residents are feeling a little wary about their food. This is because sometimes Niffty just can’t help but mix in some bugs into her cooking, saying it’s ‘for flavor.’ So, a lot of them are just kind of poking at their food, making sure there aren’t any bugs hiding in there.

Just as they're about to start eating, the doorbell rings. Charlie gets up and walks over to the door to see who's there. When she opens the door, she finds Pentious’ older sisters, Clara and Odette, standing there.

Odette is a female demon who has a slender build, pale skin, and long light blonde hair styled in a ponytail. Her eyes are quite striking, featuring red sclera and white irises, and she has small black horns perched on her head. She wears circular-rimmed glasses with red tinted lenses, a long white lab coat buttoned up over a black turtleneck, long black gloves, black tights, and a pair of silver pointé shoes that look identical to her mother's.

Clara is a female demon with puce skin, curly cream hair pulled back in a ponytail, black lips, eyes that have red sclera and white irises, and small black horns on her head. She's wearing a sleeveless black crop-top turtleneck paired with gray jean-shorts and a black belt. To top it off, she's got on black fingerless gloves, white over-the-knee stockings, and ballet shoes, similar to her mother.

They're here to drop off Pentious' stuff for the night and to see how their little brother is doing.

“Hi! You must be Pentious’ big sisters, Odette and Clara!” Charlie says excitedly. “Your mom called ahead and told me that you guys will be coming here to drop off Pentious’s things.”

Charlie swings the door wider and waves the sisters in, saying, “Come on in! We are about to have dinner. Do you want to join us?”

Odette and Clara walk into the hotel after Charlie holds the door open for them. They're looking around, making sure the hotel is safe for their little brother. Right now, the hotel isn't looking its best, but it's not falling apart, either. It seems pretty clean and sanitary for an overnight stay, but there are a few structures that raise some concerns.

It's the chandelier right in the center of the lobby, to be exact. It seems like it's just barely hanging on from the ceiling and could come crashing down at any moment. There's a bar in a hotel that seems to be mostly filled with kids, with a wall with what looks like a half-covered hole on one side.

The sisters exchange worried looks, their concern for their little brother growing with every passing second. This hotel feels like a bit of a hazard zone, and they can't help but wonder what their mom was thinking letting him stay here for the night.

They know that with Pentious around, he can fill them in on what's been happening at the hotel, as well as be the first to know any recent developments regarding the Princess of Hell or with Heaven. After that ‘incident’, their mom feels it might be a good idea to keep an eye on Hell’s royalty, just in case anything happens.

But in all honesty, this hotel feels like a bit of a danger zone, and they just can’t shake off the worry about leaving their little brother here.

“No, thank you. We're only stopping by to drop off Pen's things, but thank you for the offer” Odette speaks quietly to Charlie.

Charlie seems a little down for a moment, but then she perks up and calls out, “Pentious! Your sisters have come with your things!”

A few background noises as Pentious quickly made his way from the dining room to the hotel lobby. As soon as he got to the lobby and spotted his sisters, he quickly ran right over to them.

Pentious leaps into their arms, and they all share a warm family group hug. The siblings share warm smiles as they embrace one another, while Charlie stands in the background, smiling through tears.

As they pulled away from their hug, Pentious glanced at his sisters and asked, “Odette, Clara, are you guys staying for dinner or hanging out for a bit?” He asks, his eyes filled with hope.

The two sisters exchange worried glances before facing their little brother, trying to figure out the best way to share the news gently.

Odette bends down and says, “Sorry, little brother. Your sister, mom, and I are very busy right now with the preparations for the upcoming Overlord meeting and dealing with the craziness of the new extermination date.”

Charlie flinches in the background when she hears that. She can't help but feel a bit responsible for it, even though deep down, she knows it was out of her control. But she's really seeing how the new extermination date is impacting her people.

“But I can help! I've already put together a few prototypes for us to try out!” Pentious exclaims to his sister, really hoping they'll reconsider their decision about him sitting on the sidelines.

Clara crouches down next to her sister and softly puts her hand on Pentious' head, saying, “Not this time, little bro. There's a lot happening at the moment, and we really don't want you to get caught up in it.”

“But—” Pentious starts to say something, but Odette interrupts him, “We’ll explain everything to you one day, but for now, could you please just sit back for a while?” She looks at Pentious with eyes full of pleading.

Pentious has more to say, but when he sees his sisters' faces, he decides to hold back and let it slide for now. “Okaayyy……”

“We’ll tell you everything once we know it’s safe.” Clara promises Pentious.

Pentious looks glad to hear this since his sisters will fill him in on everything when the time comes. He can hold off on that for a little while. He then asks them, “So, how’s Mother doing, by the way? Is she busy with something at the moment?"

The two sisters exchange a quick side-eye before Odette says to Pentious, “Yes. She's handling a really important business matter at the moment."

At a Carmine factory, there's a sinner dangling from the ceiling, all wrapped up in chains. He's hanging precariously over a massive vat of bubbling molten steel; a single misstep and he would fall right into it.

“I DIDN'T KNOW THAT BRAT WOULD LEAVE THE COMPOUND!!!” He screamed, fighting against his chains, “HE WAS SUPPOSED TO FUCKING STAY THERE!! HOW THE HELL IS THIS MY FAULT?!”

Carmilla remains silent, pulling out a remote with a red button and aiming it at the sinner dangling there. She presses the button, and the sinner starts to be lowered slowly into the vat of melting liquid metal.

“WAIT! WAIT!!! AHHHHH!!!” The sinner screams as he realizes he is being lowered into the vat.

Carmilla, silent as ever, lifts her glass and takes a sip of the red wine sitting on the small table beside her. She takes her time sipping the wine while enjoying the show.

“I’m sure no matter what, she is thinking of you right now.” Odette says to her brother.

Pentious beams and says, “Well, tell Mother not to worry; I am thinking of her too.”

“Awwww!!!” A voice interrupts the moment between the siblings. They all glance over at Charlie.

When Charlie catches their eye, she stutters, “Uhhh…oops?” She offers them a bit of an awkward smile, realizing she just kind of ruined their moment.

Clara and Odette get up and hand over Pentious' stuff to Charlie. They gave their brother a quick kiss before turning to Charlie. Odette said, “We’ll be back by tomorrow morning to pick him up.”

She shoots Charlie a fierce look and says, “If anything happens to him, you’ll have to deal with the entire Carmine family, got it?”

Charlie, her hands chock-full with Pentious stuff, quickly nods and says, “Yep! Understood! No need to worry! Nothing's gonna happen to him while he's here!!"

The sisters say their final goodbye to their little brother before stepping out the door, and Clara carefully shuts the door behind them as they leave the hotel. Pentious and Charlie are standing next to each other, just quietly taking it all in.

“So… Pentious. How about you head for dinner while I take care of putting your things in your room?" She waves her hand toward the dining room area. “I bet you’re feeling hungry after everything!”

Pentious gives a nod and makes his way to the dining room, while Charlie heads upstairs to his room. He then spots a few heads poking out from the dining hall area. It appears that the other residents were curious and had been watching the whole scenario from that corner.

As soon as Pentious notices them, they sprint back to their table, pretending nothing happened. Pentious soon comes over and takes his usual seat. They start eating, and before long, Charlie comes in to join them after she's finished putting Pentious's things away in his room.

Chapter Text

Once dinner wraps up, Charlie invites everyone to come back to the hotel parlor for another round of redemption exercises. This time, they are diving into a roleplay featuring both Angel and Pentious. Angel's wearing a trench coat and a hat, nonchalantly holding the script in his hands to read it. At the same time, Sir Pentious is dressed up like a little kid in a sailor suit and licking on a ridiculously oversized lollipop.

The other residents are gathered around, sitting back and watching the roleplay as it unfolds.

“Oh, I'm a bad man on the streets who never got enough hugs. Now, where's an innocent kid I can sell crack to?" Angel reads his script out loud unenthusiastically.

After hearing what he just read, Angel says with a frown, “Wow, who wrote this?”

“It's great, right? Keep going!” Charlie asks Angel to keep going from where she is sitting.

Angel gives Charlie a blank look before shifting back to the script and reading out loud, “Hey, you.” Angel shoots a sideways look at Pentious, clearly not impressed.

Pentious puts his lollipop down for a moment and turns to look at Angel. “Who, me?” he says, putting on a dramatic voice.

“Yeah, you look like a kid who could use some…” Angel continues to read directly from the script before stopping and squinting at a certain part.

“...Devil's Dandruff??” Angel reads aloud, completely taken aback by the other name Charlie came up with for crack.

“Oh, for fuck's sake!” He exclaims at the sheer ridiculousness of it.

Pentious shakes his head, showing he’s not interested in the drugs, and then says, “Not me! I have to go home and study!”

“Come on, kid, it'll make you cool like me…” Angel keeps reading for a bit, then pauses and says, "The Crackhead.”

“The only cool thing here is to say no to drugs! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to not do ‘adult things’ before marriage!” Pentious enthusiastically recites the lines he’s learned by heart.

Once Pentious finishes his lines, Charlie gets up and starts clapping, saying, “Yes! Oh bravo! Bravo!”

She chuckles lightly and glances at both of them, saying, “Now, isn’t that fun? Today was a day full of valuable life lessons for all of us! While having a great time!"

The kids are all quiet, and you can see that none of them are smiling.

“Hey Charlie, what do you think we are?! Little kids? We all know what sex is; it’s Hell," Angel says to Charlie.

“Noooo… I mean, uh, I just feel like sex might not really be the right thing for you guys at your age," Charlie says to Angel, avoiding eye contact.

“Again, it’s Hell. No one cares if a kid knows about sex, as long as the adults don’t touch the kids in that way; they can say whatever they want to the kids.” Angel informs Charlie.

Pentious, the youngest, jumps in, “It’s true! I learned a lot about ‘the sex’ from the adults around me. In fact, I already knew about a few sex positions before I met my mom."

“What?!” Charlie exclaims, “But you guys are all just kids!”

“I knew it!” Angel shouts out, knowing that Charlie thinks of them as just little kids.

Husk chimes in, “Princess, if you believe kids are getting the whole rainbow and candy experience down here, you might want to rethink that.”

“Kids actually have it worse; those fuckers out there have no problem screwing us over.”

Charlie looks a bit guilty when Husk points out that she might not really understand what kids are going through down here in Hell. She caught snippets here and there but never the full story. What Husk told her really hit hard like she just doesn’t understand them at all.

To lighten the mood, Charlie shifts gears and says, “But hey, at least today, you all picked up a valuable lesson!” She points at both Pentious and Angel and says, “Just say ‘No’ to drugs!”

Angel gets even more frustrated, ripping up his script and shouting, “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

Angel shoots a glare at Charlie and exclaims, “You really think I picked up drugs because I think it’s ‘cool’?” Angel says the word ‘cool’ while making air quotes.

“Do ya’ even know me?! Or are ya’ just judgin’ me based on the fact that I’m just a thirteen-year-old kid?!” Angel keeps yelling while gesturing to himself.

“You don’t even know why I need the drugs!! You think I do it just because it’s cool or fun, huh? Or maybe some crackhead talked me into it?!”

Charlie seems to be getting more and more upset as Angel keeps shouting at her. Vaggie, clearly fed up, shouts, “Angel, that’s enough! You're making Charlie upset!!"

“Wait, I’m upsetting her?! What about her upsetting me? From what I see, it has had no special treatment whatsoever!" Angel fired back at Vaggie.

“I’m not the one yelling at her!” Vaggie yells in response.

Angel, having enough of everything, shouts out, “You know what? Fuck You!” He flips off everyone.

“Good luck with the rest of ya’ activity! Because I’m out!” Angel yells as he storms off to his room.

“Angel! Wait—” Charlie makes a move to chase after Angel, but by the time she gets there, Angel's already gone.

In Angel's room, Fat Nuggets, Angel’s demonic pet pig, is snoozing away on his bed, letting out some soft snores, until Angel accidentally tosses his coat right on top of him. Fat Nuggets lets out a little grunt as he crawls out of the coat, keeping an eye on Angel as she settles down on his bed.

Angel looks at his phone with a bit of a frown and notices all the voicemails from Velvette. Angel lets out a sigh and starts to play them. Velvette's voicemails are mostly her throwing insults at Angel and his body, along with all the crazy work he has lined up, including at least one triple overtime shift he has to take on.

Velvette’s voice echoes in his mind, “Without me, you’ll be just another kid on the streets! Complete trash!”

“So you better show your worth or be worthless in the streets.” Her voice cuts into his mind before Angel turns over on his bed.

Angel lets out a sigh as Fat Nuggets hops onto the bed beside him. Angel softly rubs his head and back.

“...Sorry, not now, Fat Nuggets.” Angel lets out a sad sigh.

Just as Angel is about to drift off to sleep, he hears some scratching sounds coming from his door. He looks over and notices Fat Nuggets scratching at his door; it looks like the pig needs to go out. Angel lets out a sigh, gets up from his bed, and opens the door for Fat Nuggets to head outside and take care of his business.

At that moment, Frank is walking by. Pentious has let his egg-bois wander around the hotel, so now they’re scattered all over the place in the building. As Frank strolls through the halls, he unintentionally walks by Angel’s room.

Fat Nuggets ran into Frank just as he was rushing out of the room, and they both ended up colliding and tumbling down together. As they tumbled down, Frank's top hat flew off his head, and so did the camera that Vox had placed under it. The two of them are now lying prone on the floor.

Angel quickly goes over to check on them and sees a small camera on the floor next to Frank. He grabs it and squints, catching sight of something on the camera. He takes a closer look and spots a VoxTek logo. This is Vox's spy camera; Angel figures out he's been spying on the hotel with it. Angel scoops up Fat Nuggets and Frank, making a beeline for the stairs, determined to find some answers.

“You slippery little shit!” Angel shouts at Pentious the moment he walks into the hotel parlor, where everyone else is hanging out.

Pentious, who was busy doing his own thing, lets out a surprised yelp and tumbles off his seat when Angel suddenly barges in, shouting at him.

“You're working for the Vees? I fucking knew there was something weird about you!” Angel points a finger at Pentious, turning the camera around for everyone in the room to see.

Pentious, totally lost, shouts in confusion, “What?? I don't even know what you're talking about?!”

“Then explain this!” Angel is showing off the camera. “This is a VoxTek spy camera! Vox can totally spy on us with one of these!”

“I’ve never seen those before!! And, I definitely don't know about it in the hotel!" Pentious jumps in, defending himself against the accusation.

“It was under one of your eggs’ hats,” Angel says to Pentious.

Niffty, from the sidelines, chimes in, “So, who are Vox or the Vees?” She was about to ask Alastor, but after seeing his reaction to Vox’s spying, she decided to turn to Husk instead.

“This trio of overlords running the media and entertainment scene,” Husk says, taking another swig from his bottle while keeping an eye on everything happening around him. “He's the guy with the TV for a head.”

Frank, tucked in Angel's arms, chimes in, “Oh yeah, TV man. I met him today!"

All eyes in the room shift to Frank after he says that. Angel puts Frank and Fat Nuggets down and then shows Frank the camera.

"So you know this camera?" Angel is asking Frank. Frank glances at the camera, his expression blank, and then says, “I don’t know.”

“Ugh…” Angel sighs at how pointless Frank's statement is.

Sir Pentious walks over to Frank, lifts him up, and gives him a couple of quick shakes before saying, “Come on, Frank! Try to remember the TV man!! I am being wrongly accused here!!”

Frank, a bit out of it from the shakes, starts to come around and says, “The TV man helped me find you today and even gave me some candy!!”

“What?! You actually took candy from a stranger?! You're not supposed to do that!" Pentious exclaims to Frank.

Frank wasn’t really paying attention to Pentious, rambles on, “The candy was super tasty, and the TV man said a bunch of stuff while I was munching on it.”

Alastor suddenly appears between them, gives Frank a forced smile, and asks, “So, what ‘things’ did the TV man mention, Little Egg Creature?” His eyes shift like dials as he asks Frank.

Frank, completely missing the hint, casually says, “He says once he gets the details from the hotel, he can have Alastor and the princess.” Frank is cutting up a bunch of Vox’s words as he does his best to recall the details.

“Oh! That he is going to make Alastor his and become a dog.” Frank finishes his statement, pauses for a while, and then adds, “And I... was supposed to keep it a secret.”

There is a moment of silence before Vaggie shouts out, “¡¿Qué carajo?! ¡Ese cabrón de la tele! ¡Lo voy a matar!”

“Okay…this is just weird and creepy,” Angel says, a shiver in his voice.

Alastor has transformed into his demon form, filled with rage and ready to smash that annoying camera. But then he stops, noticing something unexpected. He sensed a powerful energy nearby and turned to seek it out, only to be surprised to find it was Charlie.

Charlie has transformed into her demon form, with her horns sticking out, hair flowing all around, and her eyes glowing a bright demonic red. Everyone in the room can't believe what they're seeing; it's the first time they've ever witnessed Charlie this angry.

Charlie walks over to the camera that Angel is holding, takes it from him, and uses her magic to turn it into ash. After a moment, she closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly lets it out, calming herself and shifting back to her usual form. As she opens her eyes, she notices everyone in the room is looking at her, holding their breath.

“Charlie? Are you okay?" Vaggie asks, sounding a bit unsure.

“Oh…yeah… just a bit tired…” Charlie answers in a weak voice.

Husk, seeing he has to take charge of this situation, quickly says, “It’s getting late; how about we all head to bed?”

Vaggie, picking up on the hint, replies, “Yeah! Husk's right. It’s been quite a day; how about we all get settled in for the night?"

As she was busy with Charlie, Husk gently helped her in directing the kids toward the stairs leading to their room. The younger kids didn’t say a word as they went up to bed, not wanting to stir up any trouble with Charlie at the moment. Once the kids are out of the way, Vaggie leads Charlie back to their room for a well-deserved good night’s sleep after everything that went down today.

Vaggie and Charlie are relaxing in their bedroom, all curled up in their pajamas on their shared bed. They're just lying there next to each other, both on their backs, looking up at the ceiling. After a moment of silence, Vaggie rolls over to look at Charlie. She's really worried about her girlfriend. What went down in the lobby was so unlike her, and she was just hoping everything was okay.

“Charlie, are you feeling better now?” Vaggie asks her girlfriend with a hint of worry.

Charlie, still gazing at the ceiling, says, “No, Vaggie. I really don’t think I am.”

“Today was a lot, huh?” Vaggie tells her. Charlie shuts her eyes for a second, then opens them again and says, “Yeah…”

There's this quiet moment between them, and neither of them really wants to break the silence. Charlie looks over at Vaggie, who’s on her side of the bed.

“I just…got so angry. I never would have guessed that Vox is that much of a creep towards Alastor.” Charlie lets out a frustrated sigh, “To even go as far as spying on the hotel…”

“I guess that explains why Alastor wants to vet all tech products coming into the hotel. The Vees have a corner market for them in Pentagram City and can install spy tech in their products whenever they want.” Vaggie informs Charlie.

“What? How do you know that?” Charlie asks Vaggie.

Vaggie, realizing she has to fill Charlie in on her deal with Alastor and convince her to get those MechaFox game consoles from Jikogu City, says, “I’ll explain everything tomorrow; it’s a long story.”

“Alright.” Charlie nods as she takes in Vaggie's response. “I’m really worried about Alastor. With that creep out there, who knows what he might do to him?”

“Babe, I wouldn't worry too much. Alastor is an overlord; he can defend himself if Vox tries anything.” Vaggie tries to reassure Charlie of this fact.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s an adult creep obsessing over a kid,” Charlie tells Vaggie. "To be honest, I’m not sure I really understand how much kids are going through in Hell.”

“Vox is just scratching the surface; there are going to be plenty more adults and people even worse than him. I feel like I might have upset them by assuming they're treated better than other sinners, but really, it's the other way around."

Charlie has tears in her eyes as she says that, and then she adds, “I can see why the kids don’t really trust me. They must have gone through a lot down here."

Vaggie, noticing her girlfriend's distress, pulls her in for a warm hug, offering comfort and support. After a bit, she lets go of her hug and feels happy to see that Charlie has stopped crying.

“I guess I look pretty stupid, huh? Not knowing all these things…” Charlie lets out a deep sigh, looking a bit down, “I’m worried I won’t be able to protect them.”

Vaggie gently takes her girlfriend’s hand and says, “No, Charlie. You’re not stupid; you’re just not familiar with kid sinners.”

“You're just starting out and trying your best. I bet they at least appreciate the effort, or else they would have checked out of the hotel by now. The fact that they’re still around says a lot…”

“Ooorrr it’s all about the free rent and food,” Charlie chuckles.

Vaggie chuckles along with her, saying, “Or it could be that too.”

Vaggie smiles at Charlie and says, “Hey, don't worry too much; we’ll figure it out together. Actually, you and I are in the same situation."

“Oh, yeah. You haven't been in Hell for very long.” Charlie thinks about how Vaggie has only been in Hell for a little while.

Vaggie nods along as Charlie shares this, saying, “I had no idea there were so many kids in Hell. I always figured the really evil ones were just down here, you know…"

“Yeah… People often make this mistake. Many people believe that kids can't end up in Hell, but it's actually the complete opposite." Charlie mentions this with a hint of sadness.

“And it’s just not fair; kids are meant to make mistakes and learn from them so they can improve. But the mistakes they make end up sending them to Hell, where they face eternal punishment instead of getting a chance to learn and grow from those mistakes."

Charlie’s frustration grows as she goes on, “Some of them are so young! They had no idea those mistakes were serious enough to land them in Hell! Nobody taught them anything or gave them a chance to defend themselves."

“Hey babe, you’re getting a bit too worked up; just take a breath,” Vaggie says to Charlie.

Charlie takes a deep breath and calms herself down. “Sorry, I just get so angry thinking about that.” Charlie apologizes to Vaggie.

“No worries, I get it. All these kids in Hell feel so wrong.” Vaggie says to Charlie.

“Oh, and let’s not forget about the exterminations.” Charlie talks to Vaggie with a heavy heart.

“Just thinking about it really gets to me, all these kids who should be safe in Heaven but are at the mercy of everything…and then, they come down here to slaughter them all…" Charlie drifts off, feeling a bit sad.

Charlie was so deep in her thoughts that she completely missed the change in Vaggie’s expression. If Charlie had taken a glance, she would have seen the pain and guilt on Vaggie’s face for just a moment before it returned to her usual expression.

“Isn’t this part of the reason you decided to open this hotel?” Vaggie is asking Charlie. “To help sinners and save them from the extermination.”

“If anyone can get through to them and make them a better person, it’s you,” Vaggie tells Charlie, confident in her girlfriend.

“Really? You think that?” Charlie questions Vaggie.

“I know so.” Vaggie leans in and kisses Charlie softly, saying, “Come on, let’s get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow."

“You’re right. Good night, Vaggie.” Charlie says while rolling over to switch off the lights and head to bed.

“Good night, Charlie,” Vaggie says as she turns over to her other side, trying to get some sleep. Her face seems pained, and it seems like she's thinking about a lot of things. After a bit, Vaggie lets out a tired sigh, closes her eyes, and drifts off to sleep.

Chapter Text

In the hotel lobby, Charlie and Vaggie are working with Razzle and Dazzle to hang a banner that says, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, Sir Pentious!” The banner has a handmade feel; it seems like Charlie made it herself.

"That looks perfect!" Charlie shouts from the stepladder while Vaggie stands below, making sure it doesn’t wobble.

Charlie lets out a joyful scream and says, “I’m so excited to welcome Sir Pentious to the hotel!”

Vaggie, who's at the bottom of the ladder, says, “Um, Pentious has been dropping by the hotel regularly this past week, and he even stayed a night here.”

“Yeah, well, since he stops by so often, I think we should have a little get-together,” Charlie says to Vaggie while she’s coming down from the ladder. "Make him feel welcome here. Like being a part of a family!"

Charlie leads Vaggie over to a long table close by, where a variety of food and dishes are laid out for everyone to enjoy. On the other table, there are a few different types of soda, with some really cute decorated cups next to them. It seems like Charlie has set up a nice little spread of food and drinks for the kids to enjoy at the party! There are a bunch of small balloons scattered around the table to give it a more festive feel.

"Oh, check this out! I created these adorable little plates with their names on them!" Charlie grabs a custom-decorated plate and holds it up for Vaggie to see. It features a picture of Husk's face, with his name written at the bottom.

“I called them name-plates! Isn't that cute?!" Charlie shouts with excitement.

Vaggie, with a warm smile at her girlfriend’s playful behavior, responds, “Yeah, they’re really cute.”

“Oooh! I'm really excited about this! Let's get this party started!" Charlie cheerfully called out as she made her way to the parlor to get the kids.

The parlor is a bit of a disaster, with the kids' stuff all over the place. Alastor’s devil goat plushies are still hanging from the fireplace, and there are a few of Angel’s accessories scattered around from when he took selfies for his Voxstagram posts. There are half-finished drawings and artwork on the table and boxes of video games all over the floor.

"Guys! It's time for the welcome party! There's food, soda, and these adorable little name-plates!" Charlie says with a big smile, bouncing with excitement for the event to kick off. Vaggie is trailing behind her, feeling glad that her girlfriend is enjoying herself.

The kids are all off doing their own thing, though. Angel and Pentious are playing the video games that Charlie got from Jigoku City, with the egg-bois watching them play. Husk is hanging out at the bar, busy counting the wallets he snagged from other sinners during his city outing last week. Meanwhile, Niffty, who's usually on cleaning duty, is a bit tied up right now. She is currently busily torturing the tiny insects after discovering a colony of them in one of the hotel rooms. Alastor isn't even present in the room.

“Hey, um… guys??” Charlie calls them once more, but they just keep on ignoring her.

It wasn't like she was completely ignored; there were a bunch of mumbled responses coming her way, like “Coming, in a sec,” “Just let us finish this level first,” “Not hungry,” and “Hold on, let me pin their legs first.”

The kids are so caught up in their own fun that they totally miss Charlie calling them for the party and just keep doing their thing. Vaggie, noticing her girlfriend looking disappointed and sad, strides over to the parlor area to give them a piece of her mind. She’s thinking about scolding the kids about how they’ve been ignoring and not appreciating Charlie’s hard work. Charlie put a lot of thought into this for them, and they just brushed her off without a second thought.

Just as Vaggie is about to go over to the kids, Charlie gently puts a hand on her shoulder and says, “Vaggie, hold on!”

“I really don’t want the kids to feel like they have to go to this party.” Charlie shares with Vaggie. “I just want everyone to have a great time, but if we push them to go, they might not feel like they can truly enjoy themselves.”

“But, Charlie, you really put in so much effort to throw this party for them.” Vaggie shares her worries with Charlie. “They just brush off your efforts like it doesn’t even matter.”

Charlie glances at Vaggie and gives her a reassuring smile, saying, “Hey, it wasn’t that hard…It's just a little gathering, and I didn't even make the food myself. I just ordered it and had them delivered."

Charlie looks over at the kids, a pained expression on her face, and says, “It’s just…ever since the Vox thing, I feel like there’s been a bit more distance between us and the kids.”

Charlie lets out a sigh and says, “I guess after everything that happened, we might not be as close to the kids as we thought.”

Vaggie looks over at what Charlie's looking at, and honestly, she feels just the same. She hasn't worked with kids before, but she senses there's a bit of a gap between them and her and Charlie. Charlie is looking for ways to connect with the kids better so they feel comfortable opening up to her and taking her hotel seriously.

“But what can we do if the kids don’t really trust us at all?” Vaggie just blurted that out without even thinking about it.

Charlie turns to Vaggie, grabbing her by the shoulders, and exclaims, “That’s a great idea!”

“What?” was all Vaggie could manage to say right then.

"Why don't we concentrate on that for our activities today?! Let's work on building more trust between us and the kids!" Charlie exclaims to Vaggie as if a lightbulb just went off in her head, and ideas are flooding in.

“I guess that might work??” Vaggie shares it with her.

Charlie is already buzzing with excitement, her mind brimming with fun ideas to explore with the kids. She's full of energy and jumps right into planning her activities without missing a beat.

Before she dashes out to grab her stuff, Charlie turns to Vaggie and says, “Hey, Vaggie, could you go get Alastor from his room? I'd love for everyone to join in on this activity together!!”

Vaggie can tell her girlfriend has already made her decision. “Sure, Charlie, I’ll go grab him right now.”

Charlie gives Vaggie a quick kiss on the cheek, saying, “Thanks, Vaggie!” She hurriedly dashed out of the room, but not without throwing in, “You’re a big help!”

Vaggie gives a warm smile as she watches Charlie move away, then heads upstairs to find Alastor.

Alastor is now in his room, digging into a bloody meat slab with a knife and fork, all while some jazz tunes are playing in the background. The meat is very fresh, with blood dripping everywhere. As Alastor digs in, it splatters all over his face and clothes. It seems that today is Alastor's cannibal day. It’s when Alastor has to eat at least one meal with sinner meat to keep his little cannibalism curse in check. Charlie isn't enthusiastic about it, but honestly, it's far better than dealing with a rampaging, hungry, cannibalistic overlord at the hotel.

Suddenly, the jazz music stops with a record-scratching sound when Vaggie comes by her, knocking at the opened door, signaling she’s there.

“Alastor!” Vaggie calls out for him.

Alastor's eyes widen for a moment as he shifts his gaze from the meat slab on the table to Vaggie.

“Do you mind? I'm in the middle of my meal.” Alastor says to her as he continues eating.

Vaggie crosses her arms and says, “Well, hurry up and finish it. Charlie is planning something that needs all of us.”

"Yes, Yes, I’ll be done eating soon, just a little bit left,” Alastor says, taking another bite of the meat, blood juice dripping down his face and mouth.

Vaggie scrunches her face in disgust as she takes in the mess of his face and clothes. "And make sure you clean yourself up before you come down! You look like you just rolled around in a pool of blood."

“Well, I kind of did!” Alastor lets out a chuckle at this.

Vaggie rolls her eyes and says to Alastor, “Just get downstairs when you’re done,” before heading out of the room, leaving Alastor to wrap up his meal.

Chapter Text

As Alastor heads downstairs and into the hotel foyer, he comes across a really strange sight. In the center of the foyer, there's a wooden stage, and right above it, a banner that says “Trusting 101” is hanging down. Everyone else is standing in front of the stage, while Charlie and Vaggie are a little closer to it.

As soon as Alastor shows up, Charlie turns and walks over to him. “Hey, Alastor, you finally made it down!!” She softly nudges his back and leads him toward the stage area.

Charlie talks while they stroll over to the stage area. "Hi, guys. Thanks for being here! It has come to our attention that there could be a little—" She spots a splotch of blood on Alastor’s cheek and, without even realizing it, pulls out a handkerchief from her pocket and wipes it clean.

“—tension in the hotel.” Charlie finishes her speech just as she finishes cleaning Alastor’s cheek. She had no clue what she was doing until Alastor gently pushed her hands away. Angel and Husk share a quiet laugh at Alastor, but Alastor catches them in the act. He then calls forth some small, subtle tentacles right under their feet, tripping them up and sending them crashing to the floor.

“Tension that can be counterproductive to what we're trying to do here.” Vaggie crosses her arms and gives Alastor a sharp glare.

Charlie steps up to her place in front of the kids, right beside Vaggie. “We think that this group could really benefit from—”

Charlie and Vaggie both leap up high and soar into the air. They threw their hands up with excitement, and Charlie exclaimed, "Trust exercises!”

“Trust exercises.” Vaggie is talking a little slower than Charlie.

“Ah, shit!” Vaggie lets out a surprised shout as she loses her balance and ends up tumbling to the floor instead of landing on her feet.

Charlie pulls Vaggie to her feet and whispers, “Vaggie, we rehearsed this.” She lets out a sigh and glances at everyone else, saying, “We're doing trust exercises!”

Husk is the first to chime in, “So, uh, what's with the whole, uhh, this?” He points to the stage behind Charlie and Vaggie.

“I'm not about to put on some show for these fucking chumps.” He says this with his arms crossed.

Angel strikes a cute pose and says, “Oh, I will.” Before getting back to the usual routine, he started waving his hands for cash and said, “But it’s cash per hour for a commission, and you might want to think about adding a green screen for a nice background around here.” He gestures towards the stage.

Vaggie brushes off Angel and turns to the other kids, saying, “Alright, let’s get this started.”

“Oh, I just suddenly remembered!” Alastor exclaimed out of nowhere, startling everyone else in the room. “Today, I am supposed to attend an Overlord meeting regarding the early exterminations.”

Charlie lifts an eyebrow at this. “You attend the overlord meeting?” she asks, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

“Not always, but this one seems important enough for me to attend,” Alastor responds. “After all, the early extermination date affects everyone, not just the hotel.”

Charlie’s face scrunches up at that. The early extermination date indeed impacts everyone, especially the overlords, who really want to keep their souls in check. It makes sense to hold a meeting to go over the details. Charlie’s feeling a bit on edge about this whole situation. Alastor’s heading to a meeting where that creep, Vox, might be hanging around, and she’s definitely not happy about it.

“Are you sure?” Vox is an overlord as well, and he might be there." Charlie shares her feelings of discomfort and concern with Alastor.

“Now, don’t you worry. It would be foolish of Vox to actually try anything at the meeting with the other overlords in the room.” Alastor is doing his best to ease Charlie's concerns. “And if he does, I can handle myself perfectly fine,” Alastor says, twirling his mic.

“But—” Charlie starts to speak up, but Husk jumps in, saying, “Just trust the boss on this one; he’s stronger than you think.”

Charlie glances at Husk for a second, then lets out a heavy sigh. Since today is all about trust, she knows it wouldn’t be right to mistrust Alastor now.

“Okay…. How about we give you a ride to the meeting spot instead? Charlie suggests one thing to Alastor.

Alastor shakes his head, saying, “I’m sorry, but I will have to refuse that offer. I can’t be seen as a weak child relying on the princess for everything.”

“But I don’t mind helping you, and it’s not a sign of weakness to ask for a little help every now and then.” Charlie shares this with Alastor.

“Sure, that might be how you see it, but for me and everyone else down here, it’s considered a weakness. If folks notice that the Radio Demon is all weak and floundering, unable even to stroll over somewhere, they wouldn't think twice about coming after me."

Alastor keeps his eyes locked on Charlie. "That means they'll attack the hotel, hoping to get to the Radio Demon, who they believe is weak right now. They do not care if you are a princess; they will come."

Charlie and Vaggie share a look; each lost in their thoughts. Sinners might try to take on the Radio Demon if they believe he's vulnerable, regardless of the situation. They're not sure they can handle all of them, and it wouldn't look good for the hotel to be known for promoting violence instead of preventing it.

Charlie finally glances back at Alastor. “Fine, you can walk there. But I’m still not happy about this. I know this seems weird, but I can’t help worrying about you.”

Alastor's eyes widen slightly when he hears this; no one has cared to worry about him. Most of the time, it seems like they either want to take advantage of him or they want to harm him. He's never seen anyone show that much care before, not since he arrived here. He hadn't felt cared for in ages, not since the only person who really showed him any was gone a long time ago.

That's when Pentious comes in with a new idea. "What about having my egg-bois accompany you to the meeting?"

Everyone turns to look at him. “They are great companions, and that way, Alastor is not alone on his walk to the meeting.” Pentious then adds, “Also, my mom is going to be leading the meeting today, which is why I’m here all day. Miss Charlie knows her pretty well; maybe this will help ease her mind about it."

Charlie taps her chin with her finger. “You know, if Carmilla is around, I feel a little better about things. She typically watches over everything and makes sure that nothing goes wrong. She looked over at Alastor and asked, “What do you think, Alastor?”

Alastor's face scrunches up a bit, showing his dissatisfaction, but really, it just looks like a baby deer trying to be mad and not quite pulling it off; it's honestly very cute and adorable. Vaggie and Charlie have to bite their lips to keep from grinning or laughing.

“Why do I have to take the Little Egg Creatures? Have I not suffered enough last time?!” Alastor made an adorable pout as he tried to express his anger.

Vaggie gets herself together first, places her hands on her hips, and looks at Alastor, saying, “You’ve got a choice: it’s either the car or the eggs. It's up to you."

Alastor pouted a bit longer before letting out a sigh and giving in, “Fine… I’ll take the eggs. But don’t blame me if they wander off somewhere on their own.”

“No worries, I’ll make sure to let them know not to do that,” Pentious says to him.

Alastor lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh sure, they’ll certainly remember to do that,” he says with a hint of sarcasm.

Pentious, not listening to Alastor, is talking to his egg. “All right, eggies. You've got to go with Alastor for today. Make sure to listen to him and don’t leave his side, okay?”

“Sure thing, boss.” One of the egg-bois chimes in, and they all head over to Alastor.

Alastor looks around and says, “Alright, it’s time for me to leave. I will see you later tonight. Ta-ta for now.”

He walks out the door with the egg-bois following him, and you can hear Charlie calling out, “Bye, Alastor! Stay safe!”

Alastor waves one last time before heading out and gently shuts the door with a little slam.

Charlie looks at the other kids after Alastor heads out and says, “Looks like we’re on our own without Alastor today.”

Angel and Husk are definitely thinking, “Lucky bastard” right now.

Vaggie kicks things off by saying, “Alright, let’s finally get started. Charlie?” Vaggie glances at her and gives Charlie a nod to kick things off.

“Actually, I thought maybe you could take the lead on this one,” Charlie says, wrapping her arm around Vaggie’s shoulder and playfully pointing at her with a finger.

She releases Vaggie and strolls over to join Husk, Niffty, Pentious, and Angel. “I trust everyone, so maybe you have a better idea of how to build it properly!”

Vaggie, surprised by what just happened, stutters, “What? Uhh, I'm not really sure if I'm qualified, uh..”

Charlie, trusting in Vaggie, says to her, “Oh, come on. It'll be easy! I'm sure you can handle this.”

"Yeah, um,” Vaggie glances around the room, noticing that everyone seems either grumpy or uncertain, except for Charlie and Niffty. Charlie stood behind the kids, flashing Vaggie two thumbs-ups and a big smile to cheer her on.

“Sure, I can handle this. No problem.”

Vaggie takes a deep breath and walks down one side of the stage.

She strides across the stage, her voice booming and authoritative, similar to a drill sergeant, as she speaks to everyone in the room with her commanding presence.

“All right, so we are starting with trust falls! Each of you is going to share something vulnerable with the group about yourself and then fall backward while the rest of the group catches you. Got it?”

She pauses, glances at the crowd, and calls out, “Who’s ready to go first?”

Charlie quickly raises her hand and waves it, calling out, “Ooh, ooh, me me me! Me! Me! Me!”

“All right, get on up here.” Vaggie fondly smiles at Charlie, giving a little nod toward the stage with her thumb.

Charlie runs by Vaggie and heads straight for the stage. She glances around at everyone and begins to share her feelings openly.

“I, I love you guys. Like, really, really love you.” Charlie shares her feelings, a big smile on her face and tears welling up in her eyes.

Vaggie and Pentious run forward and catch Charlie. It was mostly Vaggie since Pentious was a bit too small to really catch Charlie and ended up slipping and falling on his back instead.

“Gotcha!” Vaggie tells Charlie. She looks over at Pentious, who’s sprawled out on the floor. “Hey Pentious, you doing alright?”

Pentious gives Vaggie a thumbs up and lets her know he’s alright.

“That... felt... good!” Charlie says aloud. Still wrapped up in Vaggie's arms, she turns her head and glances at Angel. “Angel, why don't you go next?”

"Fine," Angel says as she reluctantly gets onto the stage.

"This time, everybody needs to catch him, okay? Unless you’d like me to take your video games away.” Vaggie warns the kids about punishment.

Angel strikes a playful pose, smirking as he says, “Somethin' about myself, huh? How about this? I sometimes cosplay as a—”

Husk threateningly points at Angel, “I swear to fuck if you try to test me and say cat girl!”

“—gothic lolita, ya sicko! Get your mind outta the gutter!” Angel chuckles and tips over backward. Husk was able to catch him.

“But, you know, cat girls are a thing too!” Angel is in Husk’s arms. Husk then lets Angel drop to the floor.

Angel from the floor turns to Pentious. “All right, new guy, you're up.”

Pentious gets on stage and happily shares, “This hotel is so much fun! I’m glad to come here anytime I want!” He then falls backward, and Vaggie and Charlie grab him.

“Whee!” He lets out a joyful squeal as he tumbles and gets caught.

“Awww!! Pentious, that was so sweet!” Charlie has tears of joy in her eyes as she carefully sets Pentious down on the floor.

Vaggie gives a little smile and says, “Okay, good job. Uh, Niffty?” She searches for her, but Niffty is already zipping by and heading straight for the stage.

While on the stage, Niffty, giggling manically, shares, “Sometimes, I kill mother bugs in front of their children as a warning to others!”

When they heard this and saw Niffty, the others couldn't help but feel uneasy about her sadistic side. Niffty jumps off the stage, and the others quickly step back, letting her land right on her face. Even so, Niffty appears to really enjoy that.

“Yay! Pain!” Niffty happily exclaims, her face still planted against the floor.

Niffty gets up, giggling, and dashes back onto the stage to jump off again.

“Pain!” she shouts with joy as she keeps doing it over and over.

While everyone else is watching this crazy teen jumping off the stage repeatedly, Charlie and Vaggie walk off to talk privately.

“I don't know if this is really working the way we'd hoped. Maybe we should—” Charlie shares with Vaggie.

Vaggie stops her, wanting Charlie to rely on her for this, and gently puts a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Honey, you have to trust me here. I got this, okay? I'll figure something out.”

Angel, who had been listening in, pops up behind them and says, “If you're in the market for some ideas, I've got just the thing for some ‘trust buildin'.”

Even knowing that this is a bad idea, Vaggie with a sigh, asks, “What do you have in mind?”

Chapter Text

Alastor is strolling down a street in Pentagram City, with Pentious' Egg Bois trailing right behind him as his new temporary minions. Right now, the egg-bois are bothering him by talking nonstop.

“Oh, boy! What's the plan, boss?”

“I like your bowtie!”

“What are the antlers for?”

“Can I touch your staff thing?”

“Are those your ears or is it your hair? I can't tell!”

As Alastor strolls down the street, his eye gives a little twitch, and he wears a smile that seems to carry a hint of pain. A mysterious figure keeps an eye on him from the shadows before stepping into view, revealing himself to be Zestial, the Overlord.

Zestial is a tall, spider-like demon with dark gray skin and four bright lime green eyes. He's dressed in all black, wearing a cloak so dark it hides most of him. He has a unique big black top hat featuring a light grey patch at the front. On the right side, there's a gray skull and a feather that's striped in lime green and maroon.

Zestial has been around for centuries as one of the oldest Pride Ring overlords in Hell.

“Hark, young Alastor. How fare thee this day?” Zestial greets the young kid.

Alastor lets out a radio static sound, looking a bit startled when Zestial suddenly appears right in front of him.

“Who's that, boss? Want me to rough him up for you?” One of the egg-bois shouts out, trying to act like a boxer, all pumped up and ready to throw some punches.

Alastor glances at the egg-bois and says, “Follow in silence if you value your shell!” He gives Egg Boi's shell a little tap with his cane before turning back to Zestial.

“Greetings, Zestial!” Alastor greets Zestial back.

A bowler hat demon pops out from an alleyway and notices Alastor and Zestial.

“Oh, holy shit!” He lets out a terrified scream and collapses onto the ground.

“Ah, the weather doth become this fine day.” Zestial chats casually with Alastor.

A cowboy demon was pushed out from the backdoor after a nearby fight, ready to head back inside. But then he spots Zestial, and in a flash of panic, he bolts and dives into the garbage pile next to the door to hide.

“Whoa! Uh oh!” He yells while he dashes away and finds a place to hide.

“Indeed, it looks like we might have some acid rain this afternoon!” Alastor responds with his most polite behavior and perfect English.

Another demon nearby, seeing Zestial, pours gasoline over himself, sets himself on fire, and takes off screaming.

“If our luck doth hold! I do revel in the screams. How art thou?” Zestial looks over at the flaming demon for a moment before turning back to Alastor.

Zestial starts strolling down the street with Alastor, and all around them, demons notice and quickly duck out of sight, scurry away, or do their best to steer clear of their path.

“It has been an age since thou hath graced us with thy presence. After thy incident seven years before, some hath spun wild tales of you falling to... holy arms.”

Alastor chuckles and says to Zestial, “Oh, I just took a little break, nothing too serious.” He fixes his bow tie while checking himself out in the window, glancing around with his eyes moving from side to side.

“They won’t get rid of me that easily; I’ll make sure of it.” He smiles while playing a laugh track through his mic.

Zestial chuckles at that and says, “There too hath been rumor of thy involvement with the princess and her recent flight of fancy.” He is poaching for information on Alastor's involvement with the princess' latest project.

“Tell me,” Zestial's cloak flares open briefly, “Why dost thou participate in such folly?”

Alastor looks a bit frightened for a moment, but then he gathers himself and says, “Because it seems like a fun game to play.”

He speaks to Zestial in a calm voice, keeping his emotions in check. Zestial is honestly a bit pleasantly impressed; this young child seems more put together than a lot of the adult sinners he’s seen.

Zestial then chuckles, “ T'would be grander folly by far to assume the workings of your young mind, Alastor. Thou hast been naught but an enigma since thou manifested in this realm! A child earned thy place, art no easy feat.”

“Coming from someone as ancient as you, I take that as quite the compliment!” Alastor smiles brightly as he says this.

Alastor, Zestial, and the Egg Bois walk into this alleyway where there’s a line of lifts waiting for them. The security camera catches Zestial strolling into view, but when it focuses on Alastor, his image starts to glitch out. Zestial and Alastor step into the same elevator together. The Egg Bois attempt to follow, but Alastor stops them with his mic.

“No, no. I have a very important task for you. Stay here and guard the front until I return.” He points at the outside area with his finger and tells the egg-bois this.

The Egg Bois give a salute as the lift doors close and start to rise.

“Oh, look. Frank is up there.” One of the egg-bois lightly mentions that he spots Frank in the lift since it's mostly made of glass. Frank's in the lift, banging on the glass wall, his face just shouting for help.

“Uh-oh,” Another egg said.

The lift arrives at the top of the building and opens up, letting Alastor, Zestial, and Frank step out. Frank trips and falls as he steps out of the lift. He gets up and watches as other overlords step out of their lifts and head into another room. One gigantic dinosaur sinner, Zeezi, nearly steps over him because of her enormous size. There is also another one that looks like a giant Easter Bunny with no arms.

Frank follows in after them and notices the overlords settling into their seats. He makes his way over and hangs out by Alastor's seat. The overlord next to Alastor glances over at Frank and gives her a wave. She grins at him, revealing her sharp, knife-like teeth. Frank hides behind Alastor's chair while Carmilla Carmine makes her way to the head of the table.

“Welcome, Hell's sovereign overlords. I've invited you all here because you represent the controlling powers of our city.” Carmilla greets the other overlords while her daughters, Clara and Odette, follow closely behind her and take their place by her side.

“Together, you own millions of souls. Souls at risk with the new Extermination schedule.” She bangs her fist on the table and says, “We need to discuss what can be done to minimize the impact to our interest.”

Zestial then made his way to his seat at the front of the table.

“Zestial, so good to see you, my friend.” Carmilla greets him.

Zestial brings forth a teacup and saucer, “Enchanted as always, Carmilla.” He gives her a nod as he takes a sip from his teacup.

Carmilla takes a brief look at Alastor. “Alastor, I take it you are attending today’s meeting?”

Alastor, looking a bit tiny in his seat, cheerfully says, “Oh, you know I won’t miss a meeting if it’s not boring!”

“Fine. Just don’t cause any trouble today,” Carmilla dismisses him in a cold tone.

Alastor feigned a hurt look, placed a hand on his chest, and dramatically exclaimed, “Trouble? Who? Me? It’s like you don’t even know me!!”

The other overlords in the room chuckle at that, while Carmilla just rolls her eyes and snaps her fingers.

A clipboard is handed to her; she reads the content, and she summarizes it to the overlords, “This year's Extermination was brutal, even more so than in previous years.” We've assessed that around 16% of the population was lost."

Carmilla looks over at Odette, who gives a nod and turns on the projector by hitting a button on the remote. The projector casts a slide onto the wall behind her, showing figures and numbers from the latest report on the most recent exterminations.

“With the angelic legions coming back twice as fast, I think it prudent for us to—” Carmilla keeps going with the report, her voice filled with urgency, making it clear that action needs to be taken for this dilemma.

At that point, Carmilla gets interrupted when Velvette kicks the door open and strolls in, chatting away on the phone.

“Yes, I've got it handled, Vox. Are you doubting me? Really? Me? That's what I thought.” Velvette is chatting away on the phone, completely tuning out all the other overlords in the room.

She glances around the room for a moment before turning back to her phone call, "Yes, I know. They're all a joke." She laughs like she's sharing a funny story, completely unconcerned by whether the other Overlords are listening.

“Thank you, V. See you soon. Kisses, darling.” Velvette finally hangs up and takes a seat at the opposite end of the table from Carmilla.

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your... colleagues be joining?” Carmilla tries to get Velvette's attention, but Velvette just keeps scrolling on her phone, completely ignoring her.

“No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit.” Carmilla shoots Velvette a pointed glance, clearly taken aback by her blatant disrespect and rudeness during the meeting.

“I'm here to represent.” Velvette says to her while holding her phone up to her face. While on the phone, Velvette sends a couple of rude emojis as she records a quick video of Carmilla.

Carmilla, wanting to steer the meeting back in the right direction, carries on with her speech, “Charming. So, as I was saying, we really need to discuss about—"

Carmilla stops talking as she notices Velvette raise and wave her hand in the air.

“Yes?” Carmilla pauses mid-sentence and turns to Velvette, asking if she has anything to contribute for the meeting.

Velvette, wearing a smug grin, chimes in, “On the subject of discussion—”

Velvette takes out the head of an Exorcist and casually tosses it onto the table. It rolls across the table, stopping right in front of Carmilla, with blood still dripping from the severed neck. And unlike sinners, the angel’s blood is a striking gold color. The other overlords look at it and whisper among themselves.

“Holy shit!” Zeezi exclaims in disbelief.

“Oh! Tasty…” Alastor glances at the head, clearly captivated.

Carmilla narrows at the head and then turns to Velvette, asking, “Where did you get this?”

“We found it during Extermination Day,” Velvette tells her. She gets up from her seat and shares her thoughts, saying, “If these Holy Rollers can be killed, the game has changed.” She says, putting a fist on her palm.

Velvette then hops up onto the table, making a big gesture, trying to rally the other overlords to get on board with her idea, “We can take the fight to them. The boys and I have come up with a full assault plan—”

Velvette goes quiet, and she and the other overlords turn their attention to Zestial, who is sipping his tea in a loud and exaggerated way to overshadow Velvette. He finishes his drink, sets his teacup down gently, and puts his hands together in a polite way.

“If it be true thee and thy colleagues desire to war with such meagre proof, thou art far more... foolish than I bethought.” Zestial straight up tells Velvette that the Vees are being foolish for even thinking about going to war without having enough information.

Carmilla takes a seat in her chair while Zestial seems to be directing the conversation for now.

Velvette scoffs at Zestial and rolls her eyes, “Meagre proof?” she says, making air quotes.

She waves her hands at the dismembered head and says, “It's a dead fucking exorcist. I'd say that's pretty fucking definitive.”

“You going blind, old man?” She laughs as she mocks Zestial.

Zestial just brushes off her mocking and calmly shares his thoughts, “We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all.” He mentions that they’re not sure how the exorcist died, and there’s a chance it wasn’t caused by a demon at all.

While Zestial is talking, Alastor is actually attempting to climb onto the table to poke and taste the exorcist's head and blood. The overlord next to him stopped him, pulling him back into his seat and swatting his hand away from the severed head.

“If we rush to war without knowing, mightn't they purge—” Zestial shares his thoughts with a sense of urgency, saying, “All of Hell for daring an uprising.” He slams his fist on the table when he finishes his thought.

The other overlords nod and murmur in agreement. Carmilla goes quiet and one can see a slight change in her expression when the topic of war comes up. Velvette looks around the room, catches sight of Carmilla's expression, and smiles.

“Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” Velvette chimes in, teasing Zestial for being too scared to take on a fight. Zestial gives Velvette a sharp look when she says this.

She then gets up close to Zestial and mockingly says, “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for—”

Right before she could continue, Carmilla leans in close, showing her frustration, and suddenly breaks into song.

“You better show some respect!” Carmilla starts to sing. “Check your behavior!”

“No one speaks to Zestial that way!”

Carmilla is singing about how Velvette is such a brat and in fact needs to show some respect to Zestial. He's had far more experience than anyone else here, and she's not showing him the respect he deserves. She mentions that no one in her room has been happy with her attitude since the meeting started.

“Did you expect us to sit back and take your insolent brazen display?” Carmilla sings.

Velvette just laughs at Carmilla and breaks into her own song.

“You got it twisted, I'm not the one who needs a new attitude!” Velvette sings to her.

“Maybe you missed it, but I'm that #Bitch and I will do nothing less than what I please, whoo!”

She sings about how she is assertive and doesn’t need a new attitude; she’s an overlord, which means she can do whatever she wants, whenever she wants.

“I'm the backbone of the Vees,” She sings to the other overlords.

“Mad that I acted respectless? Well, it's ‘cause no one could respect this!”

She states that she is the backbone of the Vees. But with the other overlords' outdated ways of thinking, she simply can't bring herself to respect them at all.

She sings to everyone while walking across the room on the table, “Sorry, group attendin'! When did Overlords become too scared to fight?"

“You're long past trending! Sorry, bae, but I ain't swiping right! You've lost your relevance—”

She tells them they're just a bunch of old fossils, way past their prime and really losing their relevance.

“We can't act without more intelligence,” Zestial sings, sharing his warning with her.

Velvette just rolls her eyes and casually sings about how they’re so behind the times; it’s clear they’re not planning to do anything right away. If she had her way, she'd probably take them all down before even finishing her breakfast.

Carmilla, getting frustrated with Velvette’s attitude, sings, “You and the Vees are inane and uninformed!”

She then sings, “Smug wannabes who don't heed when you've been warned!”

Carmilla tells Velvette that she and the Vees are just a couple of upstarts who are really in over their heads. They're thinking about going after the enemies right off the bat, without any further details and without considering what might happen next.

Velvette just gives a smirk and turns to face Carmilla.

“'Oops!' Did I strike a nerve?” Velvette sings to Carmilla.

Velvette, standing at the head of the table, glances back at Carmilla with a playful smirk.

“'Cause when I brought out the angel's head,”

She picks up the angel's head and throws it at her.

“Couldn't help but observe, that your wrinkled face was turning red!”

She mentions how she couldn't help but notice Carmilla's expression when she first tossed it out at the start of the meeting.

Velvette sings, asking Carmilla why she, of all people, is avoiding war. Carmilla is the top weapons dealer in all of Hell; that’s what her guns usually sell are for.

“One thing I'm starting to suspect is,” Velvette sings while strolling over to Carmilla, leaning in close and deliberately singing,

“You know why this angel's headless! Do you have a disclosure?"

“This meeting's over!” Carmilla belts out the last notes, wrapping up both the song and the meeting.

Carmine and Velvette are giving each other serious glares. Everyone else is just watching Carmilla and Velvette. Alastor finally speaks up, breaking the silence.

“That was a productive meeting!” Alastor says to everyone.

Velvette just shrugs her shoulders and casually says, “Hm. Fine." She glances back and makes her way to the door.

“Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers!” She calls out to everyone in the room. She flips them off, pushes open the door, and leaves, “Kiss my arse!”

She laughs evilly while she walks out the door.

Zeezi scoffs from her seat, saying, “What the hell? We literally just got here!”

Odette looks over at her mom, a bit anxious, and says, “Mother?”

Carmilla just raises her hands and starts to walk away with Zestial, and then all the overlords begin to get up and head out too. Just as Alastor was about to head out, Carmilla called for him.

“Alastor, remain back for a while. I need a moment of your time for a quick discussion.”

Alastor raises an eyebrow, curious about what Carmilla might want from him. He turns around and makes his way toward her as the other overlords exit the room and the building.

Alastor finds himself in the meeting room, just him and Carmilla, along with her daughters and Zestial, who have remained behind. He grabs a chair close by and turns to look at Carmilla.

Alastor tilts his head slightly and says, “What do you want to discuss?”

“Alastor, I'll be dropping you off at the hotel when I head over to pick up my son.” Carmilla shares her plan with Alastor. “In addition to that, I'll be taking you out for dinner before I drop you off at the hotel.”

Alastor's eyes go a little wide. What's Carmilla's purpose in all of this? Why is she suddenly taking on the role of caregiver or guardian?

He narrows a bit, keeping his eyes locked on hers, “What’s your purpose for this? Are you thinking about making a deal with me, or are you hoping for one?”

“No, it’s not what you think,” Carmilla says, raising a hand to reassure Alastor. “The princess has notified me that their event today will finish later than planned, and by the time you get back to the hotel, nobody will be there.”

“She’s worried about you being alone in that building and not having dinner. She requested me to buy you dinner and drop you off later tonight. She's already paid in advance for your meal."

Carmilla shares Alastor all of this before saying, “It's up to you whether you choose to accept or not. However, given that the princess paid a significant amount for both your meal and my services, I strongly advise taking it.”

Alastor pauses for a bit, his mind buzzing with various thoughts. First of all, he finds it unbelievable that Charlie believes he cannot be left alone at the hotel! He has been taking care of himself for a long time and will continue to do so; he doesn't need help or company; he's not lonely at all!

Second, why would Charlie ask someone to look after him and pay them to do it? Doesn't she realize how careless that is? Someone could easily take her for granted and just bolt with her cash. She needs to be more careful, or she could end up in serious trouble... not that he is worried, of course.

Finally, Charlie actually spent a lot of money on him. He knows she's loaded and could easily swim in cash, but the idea of her spending it on him gave him a moment of hesitation. Honestly, no one really showed him much generosity, even when he was alive.

He and his maman didn't have much, and they had to get by with what they had. But there were times when she came into a little extra money, and she always made sure to spend it on him. Even though he always said no, his mom just couldn't help but spend it on him. It brought him joy, and that joy made her happy too. He really missed those days spent with his mom.

“Alastor?” Carmilla's voice breaks in, pulling him back to the moment.

Alastor jumps a bit and glances at her; Carmilla is giving him a look with an eyebrow raised, and the others are doing the same.

Alastor, coughing a little, quickly responds, “Well, if Charlie has already settled the bill for your services, it’d be rather impolite to turn it down. Very well, I'll accept the agreement you've made.”

Zestial, next to Carmilla, gives a little smirk, and both daughters share a quiet laugh. Alastor brings back memories of when Pentious first crossed paths with them; he acts all grown-up in the moment, but deep down, he’s just a kid.

“Very well then, please wait in the lobby room downstairs while I finish a meeting with Lord Zestail here,” Carmilla tells Alastor, concealing a smile. “Later on, I'll come down and take you out to dinner.”

Alastor, with a thought in his head, tells Carmilla, “Fine. But you better not take too long; I get so very bored.” He turns around, heads out the door, and shuts it behind him.

Carmilla Carmine, Odette, Clara, and Zestial head over to another room from the meeting room. What they didn't realize was that once their backs are turned and they're walking towards the room, the meeting room entrance door opens slightly, just wide enough for Frank to get through.

Outside the meeting room door, Alastor glances at Frank and says, “You, little egg creature. I've got a job for you.”

Frank replies to Alastor, “Oh. Yes, boss!”

Alastor gestures towards Carmilla Carmine, Odette, Clara, and Zestial as they walk away into another room, “Follow them!”

Frank gives a quick salute and dashes after the overlords who just stepped into another room.

Chapter Text

On the outskirts of the Doomsday District, Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel are now standing at a shop's front entrance. The store offers a trendy atmosphere, with the majority of its merchandise geared toward youths. In fact, it is exactly what the shop is for. This shop is meant for kids, featuring products created by kids themselves. There are all sorts of handmade goods like weapons, clothes, accessories, toys, costumes, and so much more, all crafted by the kids themselves.

Though there is a special gimmick for this shop, if two or more sinners want the same things, they will have to battle over them. To seize the prize, you’ve got a few options: you can take out your opponents, get them to throw in the towel, or just be the first one to dash to the cash register and pay for the item. Don't bother stealing; buff young sinners are protecting every entry into the store.

Firearms, combustible weapons, explosives, ammunition, and any other weapon that could cause the merchandise to catch fire are strictly forbidden in the store battle. But everything else is fair game; kids get really creative in crafting their weapons from scratch.

When it comes to the products, there is a limited supply, and it shifts every day. Kids are expected to be making and selling their products here, and it changes almost every day. That means a lot of kids will swing by regularly to see if there's something they like.

Currently, they've got a Hell Friday Sale going on, and tons of products are nearly half off. There are a lot of kids and teens fighting over things here at bargain prices. One can really feel the violence there with all the screaming and shouting going on everywhere. Things are flying around the room like they're on fire.

“Angel! What the actual fuck?!” Vaggie can't help but react to the chaos in the shop.

Angel gives Vaggie a rundown on everything.

“There’s no activity that demands more trust than having someone watching your back during a Hell Friday Sale. Someone who sticks with you through thick and thin, hoping they don't betray you by buying the item and keeping it for themselves, leaving you with nothing.”

"Like that.”

He gestures toward the couple at the cash register who are yelling at each other. Eventually, one of the sinners pulls a knife from her pocket, drags her boyfriend out of the store, and starts stabbing him in the head multiple times.

Charlie, seeming a bit uneasy with everything, says to Angel, “Angel, I really appreciate the enthusiasm. But, umm, uh, hmmm,”

“What makes you think anyone would be into this?!” Vaggie exclaims out loud.

A storekeeper then approaches them and says, in a bored service voice, “Excuse me, but adults are not allowed in the store. If you wish to masturbate over or record the children’s violence, please head over to the viewing window instead.”

She then points to the other side of the store, where Vaggie and Charlie glance over. On the other side, there’s a big, clear glass window where a bunch of adults from the outside are watching the child violence unfold. They're either recording it to sell later or watching it while doing some unimaginable things at the moment.

Charlie and Vaggie are completely disgusted by those sinners' acts right now. When Charlie lost her temper, she briefly transformed into her demon form, which startled the adults outside the window and sent them running for cover.

Husk is already cracking his knuckles, and Niffty is busy sharpening her giant sewing needle. Angel is already tying some weight to one end of his scarf to create a makeshift blunt whip. Pentious is chatting with the cashier at the storefront; it appears they know each other pretty well.

“Hello, Joana,” Pentious says with a smile.

Joana, the cashier, smiles and says, “Hi, Pentious. Are you selling anything today?”

“No, not today. I'm just going to browse for a bit.” Pentious enjoys talking with her.

Joana waves towards the shop and says, “Well, don’t be a stranger! Come on in. I heard there are some rare doomsday prototypes up for grabs today!”

Pentious perks up when he hears this, looking excited. “Oooh, this sounds interesting. I am going to take a look.”

He removes his hat, reaches inside, and rummages around, saying, “I hope I brought my freeze ray today.”

Husk is actually feeling pretty excited for a change; he’s come across some cool dice-shaped bombs that he could definitely put to good use. He's in the process of sharpening his claws at the moment. Niffty over there found some nice dresses she likes and has begun planning to stab her competition.

Angel is already taking some practice swings with his scarf whip. He gave it a go on a few mannequins and ended up snapping off one of its arms with his whip.

He smiles and says with a grin, “Perfect! Now let’s see if anyone will mess with this!!”

At the same time, the shopkeeper is keeping Vaggie busy by asking that she and Charlie leave. Vaggie is letting her know that they're not here for the sale, but rather for an exercise. The shopkeeper tells them to leave quickly, or she’ll have to call security.

“Okay, hello there. Hi. Excuse me. Woah!! Sorry!” Charlie apologizes as she makes her way through the crowd of fighting children to reach Angel and the others.

She walks past some teens who are stabbing each other with high heels and trying to choke each other with wire hangers. She starts to lose herself in the chaos when suddenly, she feels someone tugging her back.

It’s Vaggie; she has managed to pull Charlie away from the other demons and brought her back to the outside entrance of the store.

“Ugh! I can't fucking believe I let Angel drag us here! This is not what the exercise was supposed to be about.” Vaggie shouts as soon as she steps outside with Charlie.

From the window, they see a teen using a makeshift shiv crafted from a wig and hairspray to stab another teen.

“They are not supposed to purposefully hurt other people.” Vaggie points to the violence.

Charlie looks over at Vaggie, giving her a comforting smile and saying, “It's no big deal, Vaggie. You know, maybe I can just help, uh—”

“No. I told you you could trust me, and I'm not going to let you down.” Vaggie tells Charlie that she's got this under control. She strolls down the street a bit, lost in her thoughts, and says, “I just need to figure out how I can really teach them…”

As Vaggie strolls down the street, she comes across an ad board. There's a roadside ad board where people can put up promotional posters to showcase their businesses and services. Hookers and prostitutes mostly use it to post their numbers but there are a few legit businesses. One particular ad catches Vaggie’s eye. It's actually very colorful and features cartoon characters who aren't in a compromising position. Vaggie rips the ad off the board and keeps reading it, and her face just lights up.

“That’s it!” This is it! She lets out a little shout after finishing the ad. This might just be the ideal trust exercise for everyone involved.

“Splat-toon?” Charlie takes a look at the sign, raising an eyebrow in doubt.

She’s standing in front of an archway that’s framed by a gated wall, and one can hear gunshots and splatter sounds coming from beyond the entrance.

They’re now at a recreational park called Splat World. One can spot a bunch of sinners and hellborns dashing around, and there are plenty of food stands set up for everyone to grab a bite to eat. There are plenty of paths around here that lead park visitors to the various battlefields set up throughout the park. Furthermore, it seems like the big draw of these recreational parks is the splat-zone battlefields. Imagine a place where both sinners and hellborns can dive into turf wars without a care in the world. Instead of lead bullets and explosive ammo, everything gets swapped out for paint.

There are plenty of options like paint guns, paint bombs, paint minefields, giant paint grenades, and a whole lot more. Here, kids—mostly sinners—can vent their frustration and energy without fear of being fatally wounded by a real gun or bomb. The goal of the game is to use paint weapons to hit each other on the opponent's turf, all while representing your team or your own color to claim victory. The team that covers the most turf area in its own color wins the game. The combat takes place on a one-of-a-kind battlefield, and players must work together or strategize to win.

To sum it up, this is a recreational park where everyone is welcome to let out their aggression in a safe—er manner. Where every weapon is paint-related and there are no (minimum) fatalities. There are all sorts of battlefields out there, each one boasting its own unique design and theme. Participants can enjoy playing paintball on different battlefields again and again, with plenty of exciting options to choose from.

…..

It's Splatoon.

It's basically Splatoon. There's even a sign under the ‘Splat-toon’ that says, “This is Hell, you can’t sue us.” Another sign, hanging below them, says, “Fuck you! Nintendo.”

“I thought this would be a fun way for the kids and us to build some trust together.” Vaggie points over to the park area. “Apparently, this place is like a huge paintball park. What’s better exercise for these kids than a game of paintball?”

“This park does look really nice; there are a lot of families around here,” Charlie comments while taking note of her environment.

Indeed, the park really is nice, and she can spot happy hellborns and sinners all around. It seems like she and Vaggie could have a great time doing something fun with the kids here.

“And the kids seem to be excited for it for once,” Vaggie says, pointing to the kids.

Charlie looks over and realizes Vaggie is correct; the kids are really bouncing with excitement and eager to jump into a game. They're actually discussing which battlefield stage to choose instead of getting into a fight or argument over it. If she and Vaggie could connect through this activity, the kids would likely be more willing to trust them.

“I think this could be a good idea,” Charlie says, smiling. “It’s a great activity that’s safe and fun, with all the necessary safety equipment and no extreme violence involved.”

She feels pretty sure that the paintball game won’t turn into a wild scene since it’s just paintball guns shooting paint pellets in an open area. There’s not really much that can go wrong there; this might be terrific for the kids.

“HOW THE FUCK IS THIS PAINTBALL?!” Charlie lets out a loud scream as paint ammunition flies at her from all directions.

She's got on a helmet and goggles, along with a safety vest, and she's holding a paintball gun. She is right in the thick of a live turf war battlefield, with guns firing in the background, demons yelling, and explosions going off all around. Instead of live fire, the battlefield is covered in paint. Demons are shooting each other, brawling with paint weapons, and one demon was using a giant roller and mowing down demons with it, screaming and running around while others are still enjoying the carnage.

“Take this, you bitch!” A random kid sinner shouted out.

A teenager narrowly avoids a paint bomb and shouts, “You’re going have to do better than that!”

“Hahahaaha!” Someone laughs from somewhere.

Charlie’s running around in her gear, looking for a spot to hide out. Vaggie manages to catch sight of her and pulls her around a corner, where they can hide for a bit. Once they're safe, Charlie bends down, catching her breath with a few deep gasps to get some air in her lungs.

“Again *gasp* How is this *gasp* paintball!?” Charlie says, catching her breath.

Vaggie is in her gear and looking a bit better than Charlie, with not as many paint stains on her. She kneels next to Charlie and asks, “You okay, Charlie?”

Charlie manages to bounce back and says, “Yeah, I’m good. But I lost the kids.”

“Yeah, me too.” Vaggie glances out at the battlefield, seeing that the kids are nowhere to be seen.

“I don’t know, maybe this activity just isn’t our thing…” Charlie sighs, looking down at the paint splatters all over her, feeling like she hasn’t made any progress in connecting with the kids.

Vaggie, upon hearing this, sinks down in disappointment and says, “I’m sorry, Charlie. I let you down today.”

“Vaggie,” Charlie says, trying to reassure her girlfriend, “that’s not true.”

Vaggie just turns away from her, clutching her arm.

“I took charge today and it all went sideways. I'm supposed to make your dreams a reality.” Vaggie then turns back to Charlie, holding her shoulders and saying, “I'm supposed to protect you. I'm supposed to never fail you.”

Vaggie released Charlie's shoulders and plopped down in a nearby corner, taking in the chaotic scene of the paintball battlefield. Charlie walks over to Vaggie, looking to reassure her, and says, “You didn't fail me. Vaggie, you're not—you're not—”

“If I can't help you, what's the point of me?” Vaggie says to Charlie without even glancing her way.

Charlie gasps at Vaggie's self-deprecation and quickly tries to reassure her girlfriend, saying, “Vaggie, don't say that! You do so much! It's—”

Just as Charlie was about to finish her opinion, Vaggie lifted her hand to signal her to pause. She then says to Charlie, “I’m sorry. I'd... I'd like to be alone for a minute.”

Charlie takes a moment to think, wanting to say more, but in the end, she chooses to respect Vaggie’s request. Charlie begins to head out to the battlefield.

Just as she was about to leave, Vaggie chimed in, “Hey, don't worry about the kids. I'll go look for them in a minute. Just wait for us at the gate; we'll meet you there."

Charlie feels the urge to reach out but pauses for a moment, then decides to head to the main gate of the battlefield.

Meanwhile, over on the other side of the city, Carmilla, Odette, Clara, and Zestial are hanging out in a room, while Frank is spying on them from behind a potted plant. Carmilla murmurs something in Spanish while pouring herself a drink, but then she decides to skip the glass and just go for the pitcher instead.

“Carmilla, what troubles thou?” Zestial reaches out to his old friend. “Losing thy composure is unlike thee.”

Carmilla lets out a sigh, not looking at Zestial, and says, “It's nothing, Zestial, really.”

“The felled angel... t'was by thy hand, was it not?” Zestial makes a guess, but he already harbors a suspicion that Carmilla was the one who killed the angel.

“Let's not talk about it.” Carmilla brushes him off as she walks to her seat in her office.

Clara, sitting in a chair, turns to her mom and says, “Mom, maybe he should know.”

“Nobody should know.” Carmilla lets out her frustration and slams her hands down on the table. “Not even Pentious.”

“I did what I had to do.” Frank catches this while peeking out from behind the vase he was hiding behind, quickly ducking back down to stay out of sight.

Carmilla plops down, rubbing her temples, and says to her daughters, “I am not discussing this.”

Zestial places a hand on her shoulder and begins to sing, “What weighs on your soul, old friend? I implore you to share the load!”

“If it was thou who slew the angel,” he sings, pulling his hand away from her shoulder and extending his arm to sing, “why not let your strength be known?”

Carmilla takes a moment before she begins to sing, “I always thought…”

“That I would keep blood off my face.” She kept singing, “But when that thing attacked, I had to act, to cross that line and keep them safe.”

Carmilla sings about how she always believed she could steer clear of this outcome. She wants to steer clear of killing an angel and causing chaos down in Hell. That said, during the last extermination, the thing came at her, and she had to step up and protect her daughters. In order to secure the lives and safety of her girls, she had to cross a line.

“But if anyone knew, then all of Hell would rise to war, and who's to say?” She sings, gazing out her window. “Who'd survive the fray? I might lose the ones that I'd been killing for!”

Carmilla says if anyone knew exactly what happened that day, all of Hell would rise up to war. If that happens, who knows who will make it through the chaos, and her family could end up caught in the crossfire of a full-blown war with Heaven.

“So, I'll—” Clara and Odette walk over to her, and she pulls them in for a warm hug. “I'll be your keeper.”

She wraps her arms around both daughters in a warm hug, and while glancing at a photo of her youngest son on the table, she sings that she'll be their keeper.

“Do whatever it takes; I'll make the mistakes!”

She sings about doing whatever it takes to keep them safe, promising that she'll be the one to make the mistakes, not her kids.

“I'll keep you safe and keep this secret.”

Carmilla is looking at Zestial when singing that line, and he looks a bit surprised that she wants to keep him safe, too.

Meanwhile, Vaggie is belting out her song right in the middle of the paintball battlefield. She’s standing at the base of a half-destroyed building, gazing up at the top.

She’s singing while she makes her way to the top, “When I saw your face, you made me feel like a stranger in a brand new place.”

“And it felt so good to be understood!”

As she keeps climbing higher, she sings about how Charlie brings her so much joy because she really understands her. Charlie discovered her and brought joy into her life, being the light she needed.

Vaggie reaches the top of the building and thinks about their relationship. Even though they've been together for a while, she shares her feelings through a song, singing,

“But there's so much I wished that I could say.”

There's a zipline wire stretched across the battlefield, connecting the top of the building to a watchtower on the other side of the arena.

“So I, I'll be your armor...”

Vaggie clutches the handlebars on the wire and, without a second thought, leaps off the edge, zooming down the line over the battlefield while singing.

She makes it to the other side effortlessly and jumps off without a hitch.

“Do whatever it takes; I'll make the mistakes.” Vaggie sings about how she'll take the fall for the mistakes because she wants to keep Charlie safe from them and spend her life as Charlie’s partner.

“I'll spend my life being your partner.”

While she was singing, Vaggie decided to climb onto the railing of the watchtower and then jump up onto the roof. She's gripping a flagpole, taking in the battlefield from a bird’s-eye view.

“And I don't know what we might face, but I know I can't replace you.”

From where she is, Carmilla sings about her uncertainty regarding what lies ahead now that the secret of angels being killable is revealed.

“So I'll do anything to save you,”

She is singing about how she will go to great lengths to make sure her loved ones and family are safe.

At that same moment, Vaggie is singing about how determined she is to turn Charlie’s dreams into reality.

“And I will try to make your dreams come true,”

Vaggie and Carmilla are now completely in sync, singing, “Whatever we go through.”

Carmilla expresses her feelings and thoughts about protecting her loved ones, singing, “I’ll be your keeper.”

While Vaggie shares her dreams of being Charlie’s perfect partner, she sings, “I'll be your armour.”

They say they'll be the ones to make mistakes just to keep their loved ones safe.

“Whatever it takes,” they both sing together. “I’ll make the mistakes.”

No matter how, when, or who, they’ll do “Whatever it takes.” They sing out their last notes.

Alastor is just chilling in the lobby, right below where Carmilla’s meeting room is, while the egg-bois are busy running around the room. He's really feeling bored, and Frank still hasn't come back to share what he's found out. He’s already doodled all over the papers he found in the room, but still, no sign of Frank.

Alastor suddenly comes up with a great idea to keep himself entertained. He suddenly calls forth a bunch of tentacles that appear out of nowhere and snatches up the egg-bois scattered around the room. He starts juggling the egg with the tentacles, tossing it up and down in the air.

The egg-bois have no clue about the danger they're in; they’re just having fun being tossed around and caught mid-air by a tentacle. For them, it feels just like being on a fun amusement park ride.

“Wheeeeeee!!!” one of the egg-bois joyfully shouted as he was tossed up into the air.

After a minute or two, Frank finally makes his way to where Alastor is. He watches his fellow egg-bois getting tossed in the air and feels like he wants to join in on the fun too. Just as he's about to leap into the tentacles, Alastor suddenly steps in front of him, blocking his path.

Alastor turns to Frank and asks, “So, what did you hear?”

Frank starts telling Alastor what he heard, saying, “First, the old guy w-was all, ‘Y-you're not yourself. You're the one who killed the angel,’ a-a-and, she was all ‘Whatever it takes’” Frank tries to sing the last part, but he's quite off-key.

Alastor's eye twitches at Frank’s nonsense, but he catches something intriguing in what Frank just said. “So, what was the last thing again?” he asks Frank to make sure.

“She killed the angel?” Frank tells Alastor.

“Interesting.” Alastor looks around the room with curiosity and then turns to Frank, saying, “Why don’t you just forget everything you just heard?” He also shows off a bit of his power to try to spook Frank.

Frank, unfazed, just gives a salute and says, “You got it, boss!” He glances at the tentacles still juggling the other egg-bois and asks, “Can I go on the ride now?”

Alastor raises an eyebrow and replies, “Sure, why not? Maybe your memory will get a little looser if I give you a good shake.” He creates another tentacle and throws Frank into the juggling pile.

Finally, after some time, Carmilla came down from her office to get Alastor ready for dinner. She walks in and takes a look around at everything happening. She pinches her fingers between her eyes and says to Alastor,

“Alastor, stop tormenting my son’s eggs and get ready. We're heading out in 10 minutes.”

Alastor just nods as Carmilla heads out, already feeling another headache coming on.

Chapter Text

As Charlie reaches the entrance gate of the battlefield arena, she casually drops off her gear at the deposit bin close to the exit. She's got paint splatters all over, from her hair down to her toes, and boy, is she wiped out from everything that happened today. Charlie takes a seat on a bench close to the exit, kicking back and giving her feet a little break while she waits for Vaggie to bring the kids out.

She’s feeling pretty worn out from everything and a bit down about today not going as well as she’d hoped. She closes her eyes and takes a moment to soak in the silence to help herself relax. With her eyes shut, she was completely unaware of someone coming up and standing right in front of her, looming above her.

“First time?” The voice suddenly speaks out, startling Charlie awake.

Startled, Charlie opens her eyes and sees a tall crow sinner right in front of her.

The demon has a crow-like face with a long, curved black beak that's sharp at the tip. His eyes shine with an orange glow, really standing out against the dark, feathered skin surrounding them. The demon stands tall, its body cloaked in thick, black feathers. The feathers around his face are sleek, black, and smooth, blending perfectly with his beak and giving him a distinct bird-like look.

He's wearing a button-up shirt featuring the SplatWorld logo on the back, paired with cargo shorts, white socks, and black sneakers. He's got a SpaltWord cap that has “Staff” stitched right on it. He has “Park Supervisor” stitched right above the chest pocket on his shirt.

On the other side of his front shirt, there's a name tag that says, “Crow”. It looks like he’s a staff member at the park, just checking in on Charlie, who’s sitting by herself on the bench and seems pretty down.

“Yeah. How did you know?” Charlie asks since she hasn't met this sinner before.

Crow just laughs and crosses his arms, saying, “You’ve got that look that a lot of first-timers get. I am guessing the game is not what you thought it was?”

Charlie looks sheepish when he says this, as he is hitting right on the mark, “Yeah… It’s a lot more…intense than I thought it would be.”

Crow just gives a smirk and says, “That would be part of the fun! People in Hell don’t go for safe. They go for exciting or something that really gets the blood rushing.”

Charlie gives a shy smile, but she doesn’t look all that happy. She looks a bit down and quiet for a bit, stealing glances at the exit to see if anyone's come out yet.

Crow sees this and plops down next to the princess. He turns to her and asks,

“What’s wrong? Are you unsatisfied in any way with the park? If there is, feel free to ask or tell me. It might help us in the long run if we hear the opinions from the princess herself. We might be able to run the park better if we receive feedback or suggestions.”

“Well… I was just wondering…why are the games here so intense?” Charlie carefully shares her thoughts, making sure to be gentle so as not to hurt Crow’s feelings. Since he’s part of the staff, working for the park, he might get a bit upset if he finds out the princess isn’t enjoying her time here.

“The games here are very violent... just as violent as any turf war out there, except instead of live fire, it’s paint. I can see that this place mainly catered to the youth of Hell; there are kids everywhere, both hellborns and sinners.”

Charlie points this out as a group of kids runs by, playing and having fun. Indeed, there are some Hellborns and sinners hanging out together, and they’re actually having a good time at the park.

“And yet, the games here are enabling the kids to be more violent and willing to pick a fight. They can take what they learn here and hurt others with it. I'm really worried about them; if they choose the wrong fight, they're going to be in a lot of trouble....”

Crow has been quietly listening to the princess for a bit now, not saying a word. After a moment, he chimes in, asking her, "Instead of paint, would you be okay with the kids fighting in a live-fire real turf war?"

Charlie jumps up, eyes wide in shock as he stares at Crow and shouts, “NO!” No way! That would be way worse!!

She waves her arm to show what she thinks about it. There's just no way she can handle seeing a child caught in the chaos of a live-fire battlefield.

Crow just gestures toward the gate entrance and says, “Then this is the safer option for them. First and foremost, this park is meant to allow children to battle it out without fear of injury from actual ammo or weapons."

“It’s a mystery why kids keep sneaking into WarGames, but they always seem to end up getting hurt or worse. We created this park specifically for this purpose: to keep them away from that place.”

Charlie plops back down, looking a bit confused. “WarGames?”

“It’s kind of like this park just outside of Pentagram City, but with actual weapons, ammo, and live fire all around.” Crow is explaining things to Charlie.

“Why is there something like this outside the city? I thought turf wars happened regularly in Hell?” Charlie, not understanding the purpose of that park.

Crow just waves his hands and says, “That park isn’t for territorial fights; it’s meant to help with the sinner’s BattleLust Curse.”

“Wait, what curse—?” Charlie just doesn't get what Crow is talking about.

Crow lifts his eyebrows at this. “So, you’re telling me that the princess of Hell…don’t know what a sinner's curse is?" He asks incredulously.

“Ummm….” Charlie fidgets and looks away from Crow. “I’ve heard a little about the Cannibal Curse…”

Charlie only found out about the Cannibal Curse because Alastor was partly affected by it. In order to avoid going on a rampage due to hunger, he must occasionally devour the meat of sinners. Other cannibals have it worse because they would have to constantly feast on the meat; thankfully, the Cannibal Overlord has put a system in place to help with that.

Crow just shakes his head, disappointed, “That’s barely scratching the surface. There are so many other curses and afflictions sinners go through upon and during death. We do what we can to curb it so that we don’t lose ourselves. It’s the only thing we have left down here that matters.”

“You say you are our ruler and you care about your people. But do you even know your people?”

Crow holds his gaze over Charlie, his words stern and wise, like someone who has experienced this before.

“Do you even know what sinners did in their lives to end up down here in the first place? Did they sin purposefully, or did they have a choice when doing it? What were the situations that caused them to sin in the beginning? Do they actually want to do it?”

Crow throws a bunch of questions at Charlie, and they really hit her hard. She had never really considered it that way before; she just figured they made mistakes and ended up down here.

That got her thinking about what Angel mentioned the other day: why did he decide to take drugs? Was it peer pressure that made him take it, or was there something else going on that pushed him to do it?

“You know about the kids, how they ended up here too soon, all because of mistakes they’ll never get a chance to learn from?” Crow asks Charlie, and she gives a nod.

“Well, it’s pretty much the same for soldiers. So many people were drafted or kind of brainwashed into fighting for their country, and in the end, what do they really get out of it? Being stuck in eternal damnation, and on top of that, dealing with an annoying curse."

Crow then reaches into his pocket, pulls out a flask, and takes a swig from it. He takes a deep breath and lets out a sad sigh.

“‘WarGames’ is a park mainly for the souls of soldiers in Hell who are dealing with the BattleLust Curse.”

With a look of grief, Crow continues, “The BattleLust Curse means that the souls of soldiers can’t find peace during peacetime. They have to fight and battle it out, or they will lose themselves to their wrath and aggression. In that state, they will hurt anyone— friends or enemies. Doesn’t matter as long as the target is moving and breathing; they will fight it.”

“That’s horrible! They could really hurt someone they care about in that state!!” Charlie lets out a gasp after hearing that.

The crow gives a little nod. “They could. It’s why that park exists— to help sinners stay themselves.”

Charlie seems pretty quiet after hearing this. Hell for sinners is way worse than she ever imagined; none of this was covered by her parents or in school. Did they omit this, or do they simply not care?

Finding redemption just becomes so much more difficult after learning this. How are sinners supposed to find redemption when they have a curse that can only be managed through sinful actions? They can either avoid sin and risk losing themselves or give in to sin and end up stuck in a never-ending cycle in Hell.

“So, has anyone ever attempted to lift the curse before?” Charlie asks after giving it some thought.

Crow chuckles at this, “There were some attempts, but none have really made any progress. We are just mere sinners and this is way beyond our scope.”

Charlie taps her chin with a finger. “Well, they say redemption is not possible, but I am trying.” She says as she gives more thought to this, “Maybe I can try to find a way to lift the sinner's curse too!”

Crow suddenly bursts into laughter, clutching his stomach. Charlie gives him a flat look and keeps staring until he finally calms down and stops laughing.

“Wow, Princess. It’s just that…when you decide to do something, you don’t go for half, huh?” Crow tells her, wiping a tear from his eye.

He glances at the princess's face and chuckles, “Not that I think you’re joking, of course.” He playfully teases for a moment before flashing Charlie a small smile. (Well, a smile as well as he could with a beak.)

“I think it is quite interesting for you to care for us sinners so much and yet know nothing of us. You don’t know anything about our personal curse, but as soon as you learn of it, your first thought is to immediately help us.”

Crow stares at Charlie as if he is assessing her for something. He has been contemplating his view on the princess throughout this entire conversation, and so far, it has been interesting.

“You put a lot of attention into us sinners, and yet there is no news of you doing the same for hellborn. You have access to many resources for your project, but you choose to go it alone. You are both humble and proud.”

Charlie is already lost on what Crow is saying; she has no idea where he is going with all of this talk.

Crow, sensing this, just wraps it up by saying, “I’m just saying you are a lot different in person, princess.”

“I guess?” Charlie didn't really know what to say to that.

Crow and Charlie are enjoying a drink they picked up from the vending machine nearby. They’ve been talking for a while now, and they’re pretty thirsty from all that talking. It’s a nice little break from the long conversation they just had.

There was a pause between them before Charlie finally broke the silence, saying, “Sooo… What do you think about my hotel? Are you interested in giving it a shot?”

“Sorry princess, I don’t believe in redemption.” Crow shot her down quickly and nonchalantly.

Charlie lets out a sigh after hearing this; it seems like she won't be getting another guest from this sinner for her hotel.

“Besides, even if it’s possible, I still won’t do it.” Crow shares this with her.

Charlie's eyes go wide with surprise; even if there's a chance for redemption, he still won't take it. “Why? Don’t you want to go to Heaven?”

Crow crushes the soda can in his hand, making a loud crumpling sound. “That's the problem. Heaven!" He tosses the worn-out can into the trash and gives his hand a quick wipe on his shirt.

“Everyone in life has this portrayal of Heaven being the ultimate good, the ultimate mercy, and the ultimate protector. But once they get down here, Heaven is none of those things—it's actually the complete opposite, and that really sucks.”

“We're already going through so much, and now they show up once a year to make things worse, getting their thrills by taking down those of us who can't fight back.”

Charlie has nothing to say to that because it’s all true. Every year, sinners are punished by Heaven in the form of exterminations. Of course, that would mean that some people will hate Heaven for it, for making them go through this every year. This could even lead to not wanting to have anything to do with Heaven, including going there.

“Plus, I don’t think redeemed sinners would be accepted easily up there.” Crow casually mentioned.

This got Charlie's attention immediately. “Wait, what do you mean they won’t be accepted that easily?”

Crow just raises his eyebrow at this, “You don’t really expect Heaven to just easily accept someone who was down here before going through the pearly gates, do you?”

“But, it’s Heaven. When you earn redemption, it’s like getting a clean slate and being in the clear. Angels are these pure, good beings that really represent goodness; they can’t reject someone just because they are different.” Charlie tries to explain this to Crow.

“How's that going for your dad?” He simply asks back.

Charlie pauses for a moment and lets out a deep breath through her teeth.

“Might I remind you that ‘angels' are the ones that come down here yearly to genocide us all? I don’t think that they are the embodiment of pure good right there.” Crow does air quotes when saying ‘angels.’

Charlie is now not even looking at Crow, knowing that he is right.

“Princess, I have a question. You’re one of the most powerful beings in Hell, but I haven’t seen you really use that power to get what you want. Why's that?"

Charlie is caught off guard by this; Crow just throws out this question unexpectedly, leaving her surprised. She does get her composure back, though.

“I just…don’t want to hurt people to get what I want. My parents are the first people who value free will, and I want to honor them by not forcing people by using my powers.”

The crow sits quietly, thinking about what the princess pointed out. The princess realizes she could easily get whatever she desires with her endless power, but she decides against it because she truly values free will. That’s something Crow can completely get behind; he cracks a small smile at that.

“That’s a very nice belief, princess. But if you don’t want to force people to use your power, have you ever considered using it to help people?” Crow brings this up to Charlie.

“What?” Charlie says, a bit confused by Crow.

Crow gestures with his hand, waving around the environment, “You’re so used to thinking of power as something that gets abused, but have you ever considered using it as a way to protect and heal?”

“Well, I actually….never thought of that..” Charlie takes her time speaking, coming to the realization that she had never thought about how she could help others before.

“I always see power being used to get what you want or hurt people with it. I haven’t really seen it used to protect someone… That’s why I keep my powers to a minimum. To not hurt the people I care about."

Crow stands up and reaches into his cargo shorts pocket. He pulls out a small switchblade and holds it up for Charlie to see. “A tool is just a tool, but it really comes down to how the person using it decides to handle it.”

Crow flicks open the switchblade and hurls it at a target board featuring an Inkling photo. “You can use this tool to hurt someone, or—”

He grabs the switchblade from the target board, picks up a loaf of bread from a nearby stall, and starts slicing it into fun shapes with the switchblade. “You can create something that others will love.”

He then hands the adorable slice-shaped bread to the little kids nearby, and they happily accept it.

“The choice is yours.” Crow looks Charlie right in the eyes and tells her this.

Charlie glances over at the kids, who are all having a great time with the adorable, shaped slices of bread. “Hmm…” she says, thinking it over.

“It’s kind of like how this park operates; as you mentioned, it enables the kids to be more aggressive.” He waves his hand towards the entrance of the arena.

“But it also gives them a chance to release their aggression in a safer way, away from real danger. In addition, the tactic they learn here can help them survive REAL turf wars out there.”

Charlie's eyes go wide at that; she never saw it like that before.

Crow laughs a bit, saying, “It’s all a matter of perspective.”

A sudden loud buzzing sound breaks the moment, and Crow pulls out his phone from his pocket to answer it.

Crow stayed quiet while the person on the other end filled him in on an incident happening at that moment. Crow nods after hearing all this and says, “I understand; I’ll be there shortly.”

He looks at the princess and says, “I’m sorry, princess. It seems like we’ll have to wrap up our conversation a bit earlier than planned. I have an emergency to respond to right now; someone mixed all the paints irresponsibly, resulting in a poisonous fume. I've been asked to take care of this."

Charlie just waves her hands like it's no big deal, showing that it's all good. "Don't worry about it! After all, you have a job to do. I really appreciate you reaching out and having a talk with me. Not many people do that."

Crow just chuckles, “Well, it’s my job after all. I am happy to help, especially if the princess of Hell would put a good review of this place on Yelp.”

“Oh yeah! Of course! I will do that! It’s the least I could do.” Charlie is getting what Crow is saying. Her face is filled with gratitude as she says, "Especially you help me see a lot about things I never thought of."

“Well, I am glad to have helped you out in some way. But I must go now; the kids are using the fumes to get high.” Crow says to her as he walks away.

Charlie gives him a wave as he says goodbye. “Bye, Mr.Crow. Thank you again for the talk today! I will be sure to think about it more.”

Crow gives her a final wave before heading off from where Charlie is standing.

Once the crow has gotten a good distance away from Charlie, it begins to unleash its powers. He grew a lot taller and looked more intimidating; the orange glow in his eyes got sharper, and the feathers covering his body turned harder and slicker. When the bird exhales, the surrounding insects die from the toxicity of the noxious gas that is visible seeping from his beak.

His clothes start to change back to how they were before; a green military coat hangs over his shoulder, and underneath, he’s got a grey tunic paired with some loose khaki trousers and puttees. The black sneakers lost their glamour, revealing that he wasn't wearing any shoes at all; instead, he had black talon feet.

Another sinner appeared next to him, holding a field cap, and then handed it over to the now fully transformed Crow.

As they walk down the path, the sinner can't help but ask, “Sir, why didn’t you tell the princess who you are? Or that you are an Overlord?”

Crow puts on the cap as he walks and says, “It’s not necezary; zee princess doesn’t need to know vo I am. To her, I am zimbly a helpful park employee.”

He now speaks with a noticeable German accent. He must have suppressed his accent when speaking to the princess, which is a considerable feat.

“Bezites, she zeems more honest vith ‘Crow’; if she actually knovs vo I am, I’m not sure zings vould turn out zee zame vay..”

“Crow” looks back at the path he just walked, reflecting on the conversation he had with the princess. The princess has been kept pretty sheltered. So sheltered that it's almost naive, completely unaware of everything else going on in Hell. She hardly knows her people or what's going on politically in her kingdom, and she's pretty lost when it comes to her latest big project.

Yet, she is determined to make her dream a reality, to see it through, and no matter what others say about it, still pushing on. She definitely has potential, no doubt about it, but at the moment, she’s just a little seed. With enough time and experience, he believes the princess can blossom into someone truly remarkable—and perhaps just the person that Hell really needs.

He is looking forward to seeing how this will all go; it will be quite entertaining.

Chapter Text

Meanwhile, at the battlefield arena, the kids were getting their asses absolutely kicked by almost everyone on the field. Apparently, they'd managed to piss off a lot of people during the initial SplatFight—and now they were paying for it.

“What the fuck were you thinking?! That guy was three times your size, and you still dropped a bomb down his pants?!” Husk screamed at Angel while ducking behind cover from the relentless barrage of paint guns.

Angel, crouched behind a barrel and coated in neon orange, shouted back, “I thought that’d take him down! How was I supposed ta’ know he ain’t got a dick to feel pain?!”

“Don’t go puttin’ all the blame on me!! Niff’s the one who pinned all those bombs to that team’s backs!” Angel peeked over his cover to check the field, only to quickly duck back down when paint splattered right where his head had been.

From another corner of the arena, Pentious—soaked head to tail in streaky blue—muttered, “Maybe I shouldn’t have modified that hose… The pressure kinda launched some of them through the wall.”

Niffty, kneeling beside him and frantically scrubbing at the paint on her skirt, mumbled to herself, “Must clean… dirty… not clean…”

Somewhere out in the chaos, a distant voice bellowed, “Husk! I know you’re out there! I want my money back!!”

The kids were well and truly cornered. Enemies on all sides. Paint weapons cocked and ready. No escape.

“Well… this is it, guys. We’re done, fa’,” Angel sighed. “It’s been fun, but all I have to say is—”

“What the fuck is happening here?!” a sharp voice cut in before Angel could finish.

Everyone turned.

Vaggie stood at the edge of the arena, arms crossed, eyes blazing. Somehow, she’d spotted them from the watchtower and found a way to reach their sorry group.

“Miss Vaggie?!” Pentious squawked in surprise. “I thought you were with Miss Charlie!”

“I was. Then we lost track of you idiots and Charlie got pelted by paint!”

She planted her hands on her hips. “This game? This exercise? Over. Now. We’re going home.”

Vaggie tells the kids in a way that makes it clear there’s no room for argument.

“We would, but we’re kinda’ stuck here.” Angel ducks from more incoming attacks and points out. “No way, we can make it outta without being bombarded.”

Husk looked down at his sad, crinkled safety vest and muttered, “Let’s just hope these numb some of the pain…”

Pentious and Niffty, being the smallest in the group, seem pretty freaked out about the idea of heading out there. With their small size, they’d definitely be picked off first the second they moved.

Vaggie watches the kids—trapped on the battlefield and utterly clueless about what to do next.

All they seem to think about is rushing out there without a plan, and that stirs something inside her. She recalls that rush of running through a battlefield during training, alongside her comrades, all of them working together to dodge incoming fire and reach their goal.

Angel took a breath. “Okay, on the count of three, we run. If we die, we die legends.”

“One… two—”

“WAIT!” Vaggie shouted.

Everyone froze. Angel tripped over a crate and faceplanted.

“What now, Naggy?” he groaned. “You here to nag us about how we had it comin’?”

“No,” Vaggie said with a steely edge. “I’m going to get you out of here with minimal damage.”

“Just follow my lead and work together, and we might just make it out without a scratch!” she declares, hands tucked behind her back.

Husk narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think we’ll listen to you?”

“I don’t,” she replied honestly. “But I promise you—I’ll get you out of here. You just have to trust me.”

There was a beat of silence.

The kids look at each other for a moment before turning back to Vaggie to make their decision.

The hotel's door swings open, letting in the cheerful sounds of laughter as the residents walk in, smiling and sharing a few laughter. They’ve got paint splatters all over them, but it doesn’t seem to bother them at all; truthfully, they look perfectly fine, just a little messy.

The kids all make their way to the parlor, chatting and sharing stories about their day. Looks like the trust exercise has done its job. They're really starting to open up to each other instead of just being at each other's throats all the time.

Vaggie and Charlie just linger around the front door now. Just taking in the sight of the happy kids in the parlor without saying a word. Seeing the kids happy somehow brought them joy, too.

After a moment, Vaggie softly said, “Hey… Charlie. I’m sorry I got so crazy today.”

Charlie turned to her, taking her hand. “No, I’m sorry. I pressured you. We’re supposed to be a team.”

She releases her grasp and spins around, glancing out the window by the door. “I guess I just thought all this would be easier, but…”

Then she looked back, her smile warm and sincere. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Vaggie smiles with happiness at that last part.

“I mean, look at what your exercise did for them.” Charlie gives Vaggie a light nudge toward the parlor area.

Angel, Pentious, Husk and Niffty are having a good laugh together after that crazy battle against the demons at the paint park battlefield.

Angel cackled, “And then that buff guy started crying when you blasted his pants with the hose!!”

Pentious chuckles, “Yeah, and then Niffty choked him out with strings…”

Pentious can't help but shiver at that memory. He's definitely going to see strings in a whole new light now.

“Yeah, that was... really not great.”

“I really liked that part,” Nifty giggles.

“Well... I gotta say, Vaggie’s strategy really works…surprisingly…” Husk chuckles and says, “That woman sure knows how to work her way around the battlefield.”

“Yeah! Who knew Naggy Vaggie was such a good tactician? It’s like she was made for this!” Angel agreed with Husk.

“She runs so fast—it was like she was flying!” Niffty chimed in.

“I have to agree with Niffty here. She’s amazing!” Pentious joyfully shouts.

Vaggie’s eyes widen as she listens to the kids gush about her. She can't believe it; the kids all see her as someone incredible, and it never even crossed her mind. She just wanted to get the kids out of that arena quickly and safely, without anyone getting hurt too badly.

But now, the kids are looking up to her, and it stirs something inside her that she just can't put into words. She feels happy— but there’s something more going on? But what’s? She’s not sure, but she doesn’t mind it at all.

“Looks like the trust exercise did work after all…” With a smile, Charlie places her hand on Vaggie’s shoulder.

Vaggie looks really moved, and a little smile starts to form on her lips.

Later that night, a car horn can be heard outside the hotel. It's Carmilla's car, parked directly outside the hotel, indicating to the residents that it's time for Pentious to go home.

“Pentious! Your mom’s here!” Charlie called. “Time to go home!”

“Coming!!” Pentious shouted, racing to grab his things.

While she waits for Pentious to arrive at the door, Alastor hops out of the car and heads inside first.

“Welcome back, Alastor! Did you have fun at the meeting?” Charlie gives him a warm smile as a greeting.

Alastor, with a grin on his face, says to Charlie, “Oh yes! I had a swell time. It was quite an interesting time there!”

“Well, I am glad you had a good time. How are Pentious's eggs? Did they keep you company?” Charlie asks Alastor.

Alastor smiles and says, “Yes, the little egg monsters prove to be rather useful.” Alastor is buzzing with excitement about the new info he got on the overlords.

Pentious finally gets to the front door and sees his eggs, letting out a cheerful, “My eggies! It's so good to have you back.”

The eggs swarm around him, happy to see their old boss again.

“Did you have fun with Alastor today?” Pentious asks while he's heading out the door.

“Yes! We were flying today!!” One of the eggs replies to him.

Pentious, already in the car with the eggs, stops for a moment when he hears that, “You were what—?”

The car door slammed shut, cutting off the conversation as the vehicle drove off into the night.

“Why don’t you go hang out with the others at the parlor? They are spending time with Vaggie right now.” Charlie nudges Alastor gently and says to him.

Alastor pauses for a moment, then turns to Charlie and says, “Charlie, Carmilla let me know that you’ve covered her services and my meal today.”

He takes a moment to pause. “Is that really true?”

Charlie, taken aback, stammers a little, Charlie, a bit taken aback, stammers, “Oh—it’s just a little money… really, it’s not a big deal.”

“I'm just really happy to hear you weren't alone and that you got to have dinner.” She smiles and tells Alastor.

“Well, my mother always said it's important to appreciate the kindness and the little things people do for you. And you really shouldn't take that for granted." Alastor shares with her as he calls upon his power.

“To express my thanks. I picked up a box of Red Velvet Bacon Frosting cupcakes for you as a little thank you gift. It's from March Hare Cafe, so you can be sure it's safe."

Alastor now has the box in his hand, and he hands it over to Charlie. He even added a ribbon to the package to give it that extra special touch.

Charlie has tears streaming down her face, sniffling a bit, and Alastor’s gestures so move her that she doesn’t even mind the cupcake flavor being a little bizarre. She joyfully takes the gift and wraps Alastor in a big hug.

“Bwhahhhhh!! Alastorrr!!! That’s so sweeetttt!!!!” She happily cries as she hugs Alastor tighter.

Vaggie steps out of the parlor, having heard Charlie crying, and asks, "Charlie? What’s wrong?"

Charlie gazes at Vaggie, tears welling up in her eyes, and exclaims, “He gave me a… thank you… a present!!” she sobs, words tangled in happy tears. But thankfully, Vaggie got her.

Vaggie gives Alastor a warm smile, but he shyly looks away, a bit embarrassed. She laughs a little and guides Alastor to the parlor to hang out with the other kids.

“Alright, how about we share a bit about our day today?” She gives Alastor a warm smile and then turns her gaze to Charlie. “Are you coming, hon?”

Charlie, for once, turns down the offer, saying, “Sorry, Vaggie, but I’ve got some things to take care of in my office. Could you watch the kids tonight?"

Vaggie, not giving it much thought, simply nods and replies, “Okay, sounds good. I will see you in bed later for cuddles?”

“Of course, what’s bedtime without cuddles?” Charlie laughs softly at her. Vaggie just gives a smile and then makes her way back to the parlor where the kids are hanging out.

At Charlie’s office, things are a bit of a mess. Shelves are crammed with all sorts of knick-knacks and books, while Charlie’s redemption plans are scattered all over the floor. Meanwhile, the hotel paperwork is just sitting in a sad little pile in one corner of the room.

Charlie sets the box of cupcakes on her table and summons a stack of books next to it. There are a bunch of different titles for the books, like Magic 101, Hell Politics for Dummies, Hell’s History, Curses and You, and more. The books are a little dusty, which means Charlie hasn't picked them up in a while.

Charlie switches on the reading lamp next to her table, pulls out a cupcake, and flips open her book to the first page. She then dives into reading and studying the book's content.

“Let’s do this,” she says, taking a bite of the cupcake, mumbling to herself before getting back to her studies.

At the end of the day, Pentious is shown getting ready for bed in his room, accompanied by his Egg Bois and pajamas.

“Ah! How was your day with Alastor, my minions?” Pentious asks them while he hops onto his bed.

Frank, already sprawled on the bed, says, “It was awesome, boss! There was your mom, some old guy, the Easter Bunny, and a dinosaur!”

Pentious, with his eyes closed and lying on his pillow, sleepily murmurs, “Mmm, that's nice.”

“And your mom killed an angel! And I... was supposed to forget about it.” Frank wraps up his story.

Sir Pentious is already kind of dozing off, barely catching what Frank said, and truthfully, he doesn’t buy it one bit.

“Oh, sure, and maybe you’ll meet Martians tomorrow, but now is time for sleep. Good Night Eggies.~”

He lets out a sleepy sigh before drifting off to sleep. The Egg Bois snuggles up to Sir Pentious, and Frank lets out a big yawn before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

In a dimly lit room, Angel Dust stirs awake, only to realize he's tied to a chair. He makes an effort to break free, but it doesn't work out for him. A wolf sinner is pacing around him, keeping a close watch.

“So, you’re finally awake, Angel Dust?” His captor leans in, getting dangerously close to his face.

Angel frowns briefly but soon replaces it with his trademark confident smile.

“Yeah, and what’s it to ya?” Angel mocks confidently, eyes gleaming.

His captor presses a knife to Angel's face, lightly dragging the blade along his skin.

“I want you to tell me where your boss hides her vault!” he chuckles darkly. “Or this pretty face might just end up with a few new stripes…”

Angel chuckles, clearly unfazed by the threat. “It’s hilarious that you think I’d tell you anything.”

The captor yanks Angel off the ground by his neck, lifting him with brutal force.

“Well, I’ve got all day to make you talk. No one’s coming for you!” The captor leans in, his grin widening menacingly.

“Oh, they’re coming…” Angel says, his smirk widening with confidence.

The captor laughs, “Ha! Who? The police? This is Hell, for fuck’s sake!”

Angel snorts, laughing like he knows something his captor doesn’t. “In 3…2…1…”

The door bursts open as a group of kids rush in, striking poses with guns in hand, shouting, “Fashion Police P.R.! You’re under arrest for crimes against fashion!”

The kids burst in, sporting trendy police-themed outfits. Their fashionable guns are on display, but they also carry fashion essentials like makeup, a guidebook, and even an emergency sewing kit.

“What the fuck?!” The captor looks at the kids in shock, then hears some shuffling sounds coming from his prisoner. He looks back and sees Angel all wrapped up in a huge blanket, hiding his body.

Still wrapped in the blanket, Angel says, “Well, looks like the end of the line for ya’... and—”

“A whole new line for the upcoming Velvette’s Pre-Extermination Fashion!” Angel tosses the blanket aside, revealing a fresh, stylish outfit set to hit the shelves soon.

Suddenly, everyone in the room starts dancing, and the whole space transforms into a vibrant dance floor, filled with bright lights and colors. Even the captor joins in.

The captor bursts into a flash of light, transforming into a fashionable new outfit similar to Angel’s, and continues dancing.

It’s then revealed it’s a trailer ad playing on the hotel's TV.

“Coming soon to a store near you! Don’t miss Hell’s latest trend!”

The ad narrates, as Angel and the crew keep dancing in the background.

The ad then released more banners that read, “Fashion Police P.R.” The ad's narrator promotes the upcoming release of the new series,

“Fashion Police P.R. on VoxFlix! Subscribe now for an early preview!”

The Hazbin gang lounges in the hotel parlor, watching a flashy trailer Angel queued up for them.

Sir Pentious and Charlie appear to be enjoying the show, while Vaggie looks thoroughly unimpressed. Niffty, on the other hand, is completely captivated—eyes wide, legs kicking. Husk polishes glasses at the bar, and Alastor, as usual, is lost in a book, utterly uninterested.

“This fashion line and TV series?” Angel declares with a proud grin. “It put me on the map. Number one star. Top trend for the whole season!”

Charlie smiles. “That’s great to hear, Angel Dust. The series looks really interesting!”

Vaggie shrugs. “Meh. Not really my thing.”

“The dancing seems fun,” Sir Pentious mutters, tilting his head.

Niffty sprawls stomach-down on the table, grinning as she kicks her feet. The outfits have her completely mesmerized—she’s already planning one of her own.

Alastor couldn't care less about the TV show and has decided to pick up a book instead. He's relaxing in a nearby chair, book in hand, completely absorbed in his reading.

“So,” Angel grins, striking a pose, “did I win best Show-and-Tell?”

Charlie chuckles. “Angel, this isn’t a competition. It’s just a chance to share your interests.”

“Well, I still say mine takes the crown,” Angel exclaims with a wide grin. “This thing skyrocketed me to fame! I had so many offers and sponsors, I had to hire a personal secretary just to keep up!”

“I’ve got people waiting for selfies and autographs! I’ve been on countless TV shows, interviews, and I even hold the record for the longest run at number one trending—ever!”

Angel waves his hands enthusiastically. “It was beyond awesome!”

Husk doesn’t even look up from polishing his glass. “That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve heard all week.”

“What, you been living under a rock?” Angel laughs, jabbing a finger at himself. “My face was everywhere in Hell. You couldn’t sneeze without seeing me!”

Husk shrugs. “Yeah, I know. But you saying being a star is awesome? Now that’s the real lie.”

Angel fake gasps and says, “Why would I ever lie about being the numba’ one child star? Being on TV and in interviews all the time is awesome!”

“What does a street kid like you know about that kind of life? Besides simply imagining it, wanting to be that person, and feeling jealous."

Husk heads over to where the others are sitting and says to Angel, “That's bullshit.” He points at him and goes on, “You get drunk and bitch about them all the time.”

“Everyone likes to bitch at the bartender. I know more about you—and every one of these fuckups—than I care to.”

He points at Sir Pentious. “That one? That one is an insecure midget whose lonely ass watches you idiots sleep whenever he spends the night here.”

Sir Pentious ducks his head, avoiding every stare in the room.

Husk waves lazily at Charlie. “Princess over here? Bleeding heart. Loves fixing everyone’s problems—except her own.”

“What?! No, I… wha—Pffft, no, no…” Charlie sputters, waving her hands defensively.

He jerks his thumb at Vaggie. “This one? Judges everyone and everything—because deep down, she hates herself.”

Vaggie groans, frowning hard, but says nothing.

Husk glances at Alastor—who meets his gaze with a razor-sharp stare. Husk wisely skips him and turns to Niffty instead.

“And Niffty?” Husk snorts. “Yeah... you don’t even wanna know what her deal is.”

Husk takes a swig, watching Angel kick his legs like a kid. Angel smirks at Vaggie’s scowl, then flops onto the arm of the couch.

“You weren’t kidding. Holy shit. You’re all a goddamn mess.”

Husk pauses from his drinking and gives him a long look.

“And you.” Husk points his bottle at Angel. “Don’t even get me started. I see right through you and all this bullshit and how much of a fake and sellout you are.”

Angel, with an annoyed expression, just laughs and tells Husk, “Oh ho ho, me? Fake? Wow, I had no idea. Guess that's why I'm an actor, dumbass.”

He gets close to Husk's face, ready to give him a piece of his mind.

“And—”

His phone buzzes. He freezes, annoyed.

“Hold that thought.” He raises one finger, signaling that he needs a moment to take a phone call. Angel heads over to a different corner of the lobby to pick up his phone.

“Hello? Uh—yeah, I’m—I’m… No, no, I just… I—”

He pauses, takes a deep breath. His smile fades.

“No, I-I'm not... But, uh... Yeah, I'll be right there.”

Angel turns around and glances at everyone in the room, saying, “Well, uh... Looks like Vel needs me for an emergency shoot!”

He puts on a fake smile, “They’re launching a new season of Fashion Police P.R. And guess who’s the lead?”

“Uh-huh, sure.” Husk just shrugs it off and rolls his eyes.

Angel pokes Husk with his finger and says, “You know what? Fuck you. I don't give a shit what some drunk ass bartender thinks a' me.”

He pulls out a stylish pair of shades from his pocket and slips them on.

“Like some mangy alley cat would know what it’s like to be a star. Feel free to keep watching me on TV from that window display at the electronics store!"

Husk grows annoyed at his comment as Angel flips him off and heads out the door. Husk lets out a low growl and shoots him a sharp glare.

Just as Angel is about to head out the door, Charlie rushes after him. Charlie grabs his hands and gently tugs him back toward the lobby, her smile pleading.

“We haven’t finished our exercises for the day!” she says, still trying to lead him away from the door.

Angel slips from her grasp with a twirl, tossing a smirk over his shoulder. “You’ll be fine without me.”

He strides to the door, grabs the handle, and swings it open— then stops, startled by hurried footsteps behind him.

It’s Charlie. She sprinted back after him and shut the door with her back, trying to keep him from leaving.

“There’s not much time left to prove the hotel works—” Charlie pleads, standing firm in front of the door.

Angel puts his hands on his hips and waist, clearly getting annoyed as he facepalms. He tries to keep his cool before he takes off his shades with one hand and jabs his finger at Charlie with the other.

“Charlie, I get it. I know you want this to work. But I’ve got a job. And unless my calendar suddenly clears up, there’s nothing you can do.”

Charlie frowns, but doesn’t argue. Angel pulls the door open again, slips his shades back on, and walks out without another word.

As it slams behind him, Charlie lets her back slide down the door, “Ugh, why does this have to be so hard?” She kicks her leg in frustration.

“What am I doing wrong?!” She pulls her knees close, lost in thought about all the troubles she's been facing.

Vaggie, standing in front of Charlie, says, “Well, I mean... You're the princess of Hell.”

“So?” Charlie responds, not seeing where Vaggie is going with this.

Vaggie kneels next to her girlfriend, looking for a way to nudge Charlie about using her power as the Princess of Hell. “So, you don't really use the power that comes with that, which I love about you, but maybe you can... I don't know, command a little more... Authority?”

“But I really don’t want to go that route...!” Charlie lets out a little whine, squeezing her knees tighter, not quite ready to flex her authority.

“Think of it as…uh, aggressive kindness.” Vaggie helps Charlie understand that this action isn't really about abusing authority; it's more about firmly advocating for a request, but doing it with kindness.

Charlie starts to catch on to Vaggie’s point. “Okay... I could be aggressively kind to Angel’s boss…” She stands up, muttering her plan aloud.

“That I convince her to let Angel spend more time at the hotel!”

Vaggie nods with a smile. “Sure, whatever works, babe.”

Charlie strides out the door, headed for the Vees Towers with renewed determination.

Chapter Text

In a filming studio at the Vees Towers, Angel Dust is getting ready for his shoot as the lead in the highly anticipated return of Fashion Police P.R. At the moment, he's trying on costumes and going over his script. He really needs to nail those lines—one slip, and it’s back to square one.

And Velvette? She definitely wouldn’t be thrilled.

She's notoriously bitchy about reshoots and constantly yells at the kids over the smallest mistake. She seems to revel in tearing them down, like she gets a thrill from it—and honestly, she probably does.

Angel walks over to the schedule wall, where everyone checks their assigned call times. He notices he’s booked solid for the next three days—back-to-back shoots, zero downtime. Serious overtime.

He sighs and slumps over to his table for a quick bite. But to maintain his figure, his meal is meager: a slice of bread with corn mash, a few pieces of fruit, and just water. His stomach growls.

His stomach growls while he gazes at the food, and he feels a bit uneasy about the TV shoot, knowing it’ll involve a lot of physical activity. Angel glances over at one of the assistants moving about and calls out to them.

“Hey, can I get another glass of water? With lime in it!” Angel calls out. An assistant nods and hurries off. Maybe, just maybe, the extra water will help him feel full.

Before long, Velvette bursts in, clapping loudly. “All right, people! We need to get this show done before the early extermination starts!”

“So you pint-size bitches better not make any stupid mistakes while we are doing this shoot. If I catch anything not less than perfect, then it’s a redo until we get it right!!”

Velvette puts her hands on her hips and shouts, “GOT IT?!”

Her power pulses slightly, making the threat very real.

Everyone scrambles into place.

The scene is a dance musical. Angel and the others twirl around the set, singing and dancing in sync. When it’s time for Angel to shout Carly’s name, he accidentally shouts, “Ca—Charlie?!” instead.

“CUT!” Velvette screams.

“Angel, what the fuck?! How do you mess up something that simple?!”

She’s about to lay into him when she notices everyone staring at the entrance.

Charlie, Princess of Hell, is standing in the doorway.

“Oh, so this is where the magic happens!” Charlie says as she looks around, she nearly bumps into a teen who is currently putting her makeup on.

Charlie quickly apologizes to the teen, who glares at her ruined makeup as Charlie bumps into her. Charlie quickly steps aside and keeps walking into the studio.

“Oh, wow, that’s—” She comments as she sees another teen in a super stylish and trendy costume, doing some stretches and splits in it. “Wow, that’s really pretty…”

Angel rushes over, grabbing her hand. “Charlie! What in the ever-loving fuck are you doing here?!”

“I’m the Princess of Hell, Angel, and I go wherever I want.” Charlie shouts out so everyone can hear her.

She then leans in close to Angel Dust and whispers, “I'm here to get you some time off for the hotel. Now, where's your boss?”

Angel panics. “You’re gonna do what?! Talk to Velvette? You know she’s a bitch, right?!”

Angel can't help but exclaim to her, utterly shocked that Charlie would actually show up at the studio to get him. She must really be desperate with her hotel if she's coming here to take Angel back.

“Angel! What’s the fucking hold up?!” Velvette yells.

“Coming!!” Angel replies.

“Hurry the fuck up! Some of these Botox freaks are melting already!”

Angel gives Charlie a slight push back toward the door and swings it open while she stands there.

He keeps on nudging Charlie toward the door. “Wait until I’m done, then we’ll talk, I promise. Just go—”

But Velvette’s already behind him. “Oh, look who it is. Your Majesty.”

“What the fuck are you doing here? Besides blinding me with that tacky outfit?”

Charlie steps forward, smiling. “I’ve come to aggressively, kindly speak with you about Angel.”

Velvette just narrows her eyes and frowns a bit more. She is about to retort when her phone buzzes. A message from Vox:

[Please handle the princess with care to avoid further upsetting her. Let her do what she wants here.]

Velvette raises an eyebrow and texts back: [WTF??]

Turns out Charlie had already made quite a scene in the lobby of the Vees Towers. Vox had been loitering in the area when Charlie walked into the tower lobby. The moment she saw Vox, she got very angry and shifted into her demon form.

“YOU!!” She shouts at him in anger, while Vox panics and zaps into electricity, slipping away through the surveillance camera.

The receptionist was able to settle Charlie down by directing her to Velvette’s studio and letting her know where Angel Dust is. Vox is hiding out in his surveillance room, hoping the Princess isn’t too upset at the Vees. He sent a message to Velvette, asking her to handle Charlie with care and fingers crossed, keep the royal family's wrath away.

Velvette sighs. “Well then, make yourself comfortable, Your Majesty. We’ll talk after the shoot.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to get in the way of your work,” Charlie replies.

“Take it from the top!” Velvette yells. “And… action!”

As the shooting goes on, Charlie is simply wandering around the studio, soaking in the environment and maybe getting a new guest or two for her hotel from the kids hanging around here. She notices a ton of props and sets scattered throughout the place, with kids keeping themselves busy with everything from costume work to set design and styling.

Charlie spots a large schedule pinned to one of the studio walls and scans it to find all the crew names involved in Fashion Police P.R. She searches for Angel Dust’s name—and finds it. He’s booked solid for the next three days.

So, he won’t be at the hotel at all for the next few days—and that’s not good for her. Every single day counts when it comes to proving the hotel’s purpose.

As she keeps reading the schedule, something begins to bother her. Angel’s schedule is packed from morning to night. There’s barely any room for food or rest. It looks like he’s working nearly nonstop for three days straight, with hardly any breaks. Mealtime happens just once a day, and even then, it’s brief. Sleep? Limited to two hours, max.

Charlie frowns. This work environment doesn’t look healthy at all. Why is everything so rushed? What’s with this brutal crunch schedule?

She stops a nearby teen, points at the schedule, and asks, “Excuse me. Can you tell me why the schedule is so packed and busy? Wouldn’t it make more sense to stretch it out a little longer?”

The teen shrugs. “It’s because of the new extermination date. They’re trying to squeeze as much as they can out of their old clientele before they get wiped out.”

Charlie flinches. Again, the extermination deadline is hurting everyone—even the people at her hotel. She needs the hotel to succeed. It’s the only real way to prove redemption is possible.

“How does anyone manage to keep up with this crazy schedule?” she mutters. “Some people are going to collapse from this.” She gestures toward the schedule to emphasize her point.

The teen gestures with a thumb toward a nearby table. Charlie turns—and stares.

The table is loaded with performance-enhancing drugs and energy drinks. Tons of them. They’ve even packaged them into cute little doggy bags for the kids to take home.

“Oh wow… that makes so much sense now…” Charlie mumbles as she studies the table. Angel’s addiction suddenly feels a little less mysterious.

Then she sees it—a sign hanging near the drugs: “Use these to get thin if you're not the right size.”

Charlie winces. Now she understands why Angel is so focused on his weight and appearance… especially since he barely touches food at the hotel.

The shooting wraps up quickly, and everyone starts cleaning up while getting ready for the next segment of the show. The actors, including Angel Dust, take a break to hit the showers and freshen up before diving into the next round.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Velvette step into a private room for a personal meeting.

The room has a typical meeting atmosphere, but with a splash of Velvette’s signature flair. It’s decorated in cozy pink-red tones, with plush seating and stylish furniture throughout. A few mannequins stand around the room, each showcasing one of Velvette’s top designs. Beneath each one is a plaque detailing the awards and accolades the outfit earned.

Charlie and Velvette sit across from each other, a glass table between them. The air is tense. Velvette crosses her arms and stares at the princess with a sharp glare, saying nothing. Charlie fidgets with her fingers, anxious and silent.

“So, Princess, you want to talk about my main star?” Velvette cuts straight to the point.

Caught off guard by the bluntness, Charlie quickly responds, “Oh yes, I was really hoping you could let him have some time off—at least until after the next extermination.”

Velvette raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’m going to do that?”

“Well, if I can prove that redemption works, we won’t have to worry about exterminations anymore!” Charlie says, pointing to the large window. “No need to worry about losing more souls!”

“Yeah… no. We have our own system for dealing with these kinds of things, and I’m not letting my main star off for something as stupid as your fantasy.” Velvette completely shuts her down, not buying the idea at all.

“We’ve got to meet our quota before the next extermination rolls around,” Velvette adds, tapping her palm with a closed fist.

“Which, by the way—happened mostly thanks to you! Everyone knows that the early extermination happened right after you came out from that embassy!” she says, jabbing a finger toward Charlie.

“That wasn’t on me! They made that decision on their own!” Charlie shoots back.

Velvette waves her hand dismissively.

“To-ma-to, to-ma-toes, what matters it that we are all fucked with this new extermination date. Unless you help me meet my quota or boost my revenue, Angel is sticking around.”

Charlie was outraged. It’s clear now—the Vees care more about profits than lives. But she also realizes she can’t stop them directly.

Any interference would lead to a whole bunch of issues that she really doesn’t have time to deal with.

She’s really pressed for time with her hotel situation, and she needs to stay focused on it.

She starts thinking. Is there any way to get Velvette to agree to give Angel time off until after the extermination? Charlie really hopes she won’t have to use every trick she has—but that’s where this is going.

It’s not like there’s anything unique or fashionable that would make people want to buy more of Velvette’s products.

That's when it hit her; she had something that hadn't really been in the spotlight until now. There aren't a lot of photos of it, and it would definitely catch the attention of citizens in Hell, whether they're sinners or hellborn.

“Velvette, how would you like to make an informal deal?” Charlie suddenly asks.

Velvette’s ears perk up immediately. The Princess of Hell is making an offer?

“So, what would the deal look like?” she asks, curious.

Charlie places a hand on her chest. “Since you're trying to hit your quota, what do you think about me modeling for your fashion lines?”

“I bet everyone in Hell would love to see the elusive Princess of Hell strutting her stuff for the Fashion Overlord.”

“I could totally see both sinners and hellborns scrambling to get a piece of it—especially Hell’s upper crust.”

Velvette pauses, clearly tempted. If Charlie modeled for her, the buzz would be enormous. Especially those stuck-up, self-important nobles.

They'd likely buy from her just to win over Hell’s royalty. This could actually bring in more revenue and cash than the new season of Fashion Police P.R.

Velvette leans forward. “So, what’s the catch with this little informal arrangement? You expecting me to actually keep my word?”

Charlie takes a deep breath before continuing. She’d just picked up this tactic from her Hell Politics for Dummies book. Time to flex her political authority a little—but at least she’s not outright forcing anything. And honestly, that creep kind of had it coming.

“Well, I can always order an arrest for Vox on charges of transgressing against royalty,” she begins, her tone suddenly firm.

“I let it go because no one was hurt, but Vox was clearly out to get Alastor and, most of all, me.”

Her voice now carries weight—serious and commanding. The meek princess is gone.

“I might not have any proof, but I can absolutely get the demons working for the royal family to do some ‘questioning’ about what happened with that surveillance camera at the hotel.” Charlie raises her fingers into air quotes on the word questioning.

“I doubt Vox would be thrilled to find out what goes on during those ‘questionings’—or what happens to sinners who try to mess with the royal family. So don’t make me do this.”

Charlie pauses. Her voice softens, but still holds weight. “Please?”

Velvette inhales sharply. Where the hell did that naive little princess go?

Sitting in front of her now is someone who radiates power. And if Velvette doesn’t cooperate, there will be consequences. She’d always known Vox’s creepy obsession with that kid would come back to bite them.

That was seven years ago—and here it is again.

She glares at the camera in the corner of the room, flips it off, then turns back to Charlie.

“Fine, you bitch,” Velvette mutters. “You can keep the tween. Just make sure you give it your all, because I’m not missing out on anything you can bring in.”

“Yes!” Charlie blurts out before catching herself. Velvette arches an eyebrow.

Charlie coughs, smoothing her tone. “It’s a deal. I’m not shaking your hand, though.”

Velvette throws up her hands. “Fine! Whatever! I’ve got a million calls to make now!!”

She yanks out her phone and starts dialing to prep the new photoshoot.

Chapter Text

In the main studio, everyone’s all dressed up and set for the next segment of the shoot. They’ve actually been waiting for Velvette for nearly two hours now. Most of the kids have already lost interest and are now glued to their phones, either gaming or scrolling through the web. They’re just hanging out—bored—until they hear the door creak open and see Charlie and Velvette finally step out.

Velvette claps her hands, commanding the room. “Okay, people! Quick announcement! Fashion Police P.R. is on hold until after the exterminations. Clean everything up and store it until then!”

The room goes quiet for a moment as people glance at each other, murmuring in confusion. An entire season... put on hold? Just like that? What the hell is going on??

Before anyone can ask a single question, Velvette barks, “Shut your trap! We got a new project incoming, so get your asses moving!”

She stomps her heel on the floor. “NOW!”

Everyone jolts into action. The kids scramble to their feet, abandoning their screens and rushing to clean up the set. Amid the chaos, Angel strolls up to Velvette and asks, “So, what kind of work am I doing this time? Modeling or acting?”

“Nothing. You’re doing nothing,” Velvette snaps.

Angel blinks. “Wait—what?”

“You’re off schedule until after the extermination,” she replies coldly, still scrolling through her phone. “And you better survive through it, by the way.”

Angel stares at her, stunned. “What?”

Velvette doesn’t even look up. “You fucking heard me. You're off till after the extermination. You can thank the princess for that.”

Angel turns toward Charlie, confused. “Charlie, what’s she talking about?”

Charlie opens her mouth, about to explain—“Well, I—Woah!”—before a swarm of makeup artists and fashion designers swoop in out of nowhere. They lift her off the ground and carry her into another room, slamming the door shut behind them.

Angel stands frozen, eyes on the closed door. “What just happened?” he mutters.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Velvette cuts in. “You’re officially useless now.”

“I’ve got a new project starring the princess,” Velvette says, smirking. “She’s going to make me richer and more famous than you ever could.”

She chuckles darkly. “That girl’s going to milk the public dry—and I intend to squeeze every drop of it.”

Holding up her phone, she adds, “As of now? You’re yesterday’s news. Let’s just hope you survive long enough to claw your way back in once the fresh meat arrives.”

She cackles. “I guess Hazbin really fits you now!”

With that, she flips him the finger, struts to the door where Charlie disappeared, and yells over her shoulder, “Catch you next season, Hazbin!!”

Angel just stands there, stunned. Alone. Frozen in place as the weight of it all sinks in.

Angel Dust, looking completely drained, groans as he trudges back to the hotel. He passes by Alastor, who’s still buried in his book in the parlor.

The place is a mess—stacks of books are scattered everywhere, covering topics from Voodoo Magic to The History of Hell. Alastor doesn’t look up; he’s too deep into his reading.

Angel doesn’t say a word. He just walks past and plops onto a stool beside Husk, who’s wiping down a glass at the bar.

“Ugh. I could really use a drink,” Angel mutters. “Make it as hard as you can.”

Husk sets the glass down and eyes the shelves for the right bottles. As he starts picking them out, he throws a glance at Angel and says flatly, “Hmm. You look like shit.”

Angel groans again, face planted against the bar. “Shut up and leave me alone. Just give me the drink.”

Husk rolls his eyes, mixes two liquors into the glass, and gives it a good stir. Angel lifts his head, grabs the glass, and chugs it down—spilling some of it on himself in the process.

“Augh, keep em’ coming. Just keep pouring until I pass out.” Angel demands, slamming the glass down.

“Excuse me. Didn't realize this was a ‘drinking to forget’ kind of night.” Husk says while he keeps pouring Angel another glass of alcohol.

Angel grabs it and downs the next round in one go. “Another!” he barks, thumping the glass on the counter again.

A plate slides in front of him. On it? Just a single slice of bread.

Angel raises an eyebrow. “The fuck is this?” he asks, pointing at the bread without looking away from Husk.

“It’s exactly what it looks like—a slice of bread,” Husk replies, casually corking one of the bottles.

He nods at Angel. “You’re not drinking on an empty stomach.”

Angel pushes the plate aside. “No thanks. I’m not hungry.”

“That’s a lie,” Husk says, nudging the plate right back. “I could hear your stomach growling from the damn front door. Eat the bread.”

Angel grabs the plate again and slides it away with a little more force.

“Well, I gotta watch ma’ figure. I won’t be in top shape next season if I don’t. Bread’s just carbs.”

Husk shoves the plate forward.

“You don’t have a figure. You’re basically a stick. Actually—sticks have more shape than you.” 

Angel leans into it, pushing harder.

“I am the number one model and child star! There are standards I gotta maintain to stay one of a kind.”

Husk scoffs. “Please. You’re just like every other child star in Hell—skinny-ass clout-chasers who turn into walking stereotypes.”

“I’m not! I’m different!” Angel shouts, shoving with both hands now.

The plate slips. It crashes to the floor, shattering. The bread goes flying.

Right on cue, Niffty pops up out of nowhere, cheerfully sweeping up the mess like it’s just another Tuesday.

Husk eyes Angel with an exasperated look and asks skeptically, “Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be off filming that new show you never shut up about?”

He crosses his arms. “What—did they kick you out?”

Angel suddenly bolts upright, knocking over the chair. He jabs a finger at Husk and yells, “Fuck you! I don’t need some street cat judging and meddling in my life!”

He slams a fist onto the bar. “Just like I don’t need some goody-goody princess meddling either!”

From the shadows, Alastor steps into the light and strolls toward the bar, curiosity piqued.

“My, my. What’s all this noise?” he says with a grin spreading wide across his face. “Is someone dying? Or are you about to kill somebody?”

“Charlie is working with the Vees now!” Angel blurts out.

Record scratch.

Alastor freezes mid-step. His smile remains, but his expression is now stiff. His eyes flicker like twitching radio dials.

“What?” he says slowly. “Why?”

Angel throws up his hands. “Who knows?! All I know is she’s working with Velvette on some project!”

“She’s gonna make them rich. Richer than ever. More famous than ever!” Angel growls.

At Alastor’s feet, shadows begin to stir—voodoo symbols crackle to life and swirl around him.

“Even after the Vox debacle, she’d still work with them?” he hisses, his voice low and tight with restrained rage. That gnawing sense of betrayal cuts deep.

He remembers how she tried to stop him from attending the Overlord Meeting—just because Vox might be there.

She knew how he felt about the Vees. And now she’s off collaborating with Velvette on a deal that’ll only benefit them? He can’t shake the sinking feeling twisting in his gut.

Did Charlie really sell them out? Is the hotel next? Another pawn in the Vees’ empire?

His thoughts race. His control begins to slip.

“Alright now, you two—cool it,” Husk cuts in, eyeing the sparks beneath Alastor’s shoes. “Let’s not go jumping to conclusions. You don’t know the full story.”

Angel throws his hands up again. “What’s there to misunderstand?! Charlie’s working with the Vees! Next thing you know, this hotel’s theirs too!”

He hugs himself tightly, spiraling. The thought of losing his little escape from the spotlight squeezes at his chest.

Husk raises his palms, trying to ground them. “Let’s not go there yet. We wait. Let her explain herself first.”

“Fuck it!” Angel yells, trembling with frustration. “I gotta get outta here! I need somewhere that’s not here!”

He suddenly grabs Alastor by the wrist. “Come on, Al! We’re getting outta here!”

Before Alastor can respond, Angel pulls him. The two dart out of the bar, flying past Vaggie, who had just arrived to check out the commotion.

As they burst through the hotel doors, they nearly collide with Charlie—walking in after wrapping things up at Velvette’s studio. She barely has time to register them before the two zip past her and disappear into the city without a word.

Vaggie watches them go, stunned. “What the hell just happened?”

Husk walks over to Vaggie and says, “Those two freaked out because the princess here—” he jerks his thumb toward Charlie, “—is working with the Vees.”

“What?!” Vaggie snaps, eyes wide as she turns to Charlie. “Is that true?”

Charlie stumbles over her words. “No! — Yes! — Sort of?”

She waves her hands in the air, clearly flustered. “I just did a couple of photo shoots for Velvette... so she’d give Angel some time off.”

“Well, that’s not how they see it,” Husk says plainly.

“To them, it looks like you’re selling out to the Vees. Like you’ve betrayed their trust. They’re convinced this hotel is gonna become part of the Vees’ empire—and that means the Vees could get to them.”

“What?! No! I would never do that!” Charlie gasps, horrified.

The idea that Angel and Alastor might think she’d betray them hits her hard.

Vaggie gently places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, sensing how shaken she is. “Why would they think that? Charlie’s done nothing but try to help them.”

“Yeah, well...” Husk mutters, rolling his eyes. “Like they’re really gonna believe any adult isn’t out to screw them over.”

He crosses his arms, tone sharpening. “Sure, you meant well. But that’s not how they see it. You think you’re the first adult who’s tried to be nice? Let me tell you something—they’ve all been nice at first.”

“Then later,” he continues, “they start demanding things. Start treating them like crap. That’s the pattern. Me and Niff’ve been through it too. So don’t expect trust so soon.”

Vaggie and Charlie fall silent. It’s true—the kids have started opening up more lately.

But Husk is right: they’re still bracing for that inevitable betrayal. It’s always in the back of their minds.

Charlie hugs herself, her expression crumpling. Vaggie pulls her closer, wrapping an arm around her, trying to soothe the ache.

Husk softens a little and asks, “Did you at least try to explain things to Angel? You know he and Alastor are two of the more reasonable ones down here.”

Charlie sighs, her voice quiet. “I wanted to. I really did. But I got pulled into the photo shoot so fast, I didn’t get the chance. I was planning to explain everything afterward... but now, it feels like there won’t be an afterward.”

“Don’t worry, babe.” Vaggie tucks Charlie’s hair behind her ear and offers a small, encouraging smile. “Just like Husk said—you just need to talk to them. Things’ll work out.”

She turns to Husk. “Husk, you need to go after them.”

“Husk, you need to go out and look for them.”

Husk points to himself and exclaims, “Me? Why?! It’s not my responsibility!”

Husk blinks. “Me? Why the hell me? That’s not my job.”

“It is now,” Vaggie says firmly. “You said it yourself—they don’t trust us. You’ve got a better chance of bringing them back.”

Charlie steps in gently, “No. Don’t drag them back. Just... make sure they’re safe. I screwed up by not including them in the plan. I broke their trust. They need space right now.”

Vaggie gives Husk a pointed look. He groans and grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t argue.

Suddenly, Charlie brightens. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” she says, a renewed spark in her voice, “I’m going to write one hundred apology letters, prepare my talk with Alastor and Angel, and plan tomorrow’s lesson on…”

Her eyes light up with hope. “Boundaries.”

Husk rolls his eyes and slumps forward onto the bar, letting out a catlike whine.

Chapter Text

The streets of Pentagram City glowed dimly under flickering neon lights, the usual chaos oddly muted tonight. Alastor and Angel wandered side by side, not heading anywhere in particular. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—it was heavy. Weighted. Like both were too tired to pretend everything was fine anymore.

They’d needed to step out of the hotel for a while. The air inside had felt too thick, too uncertain, with talk of the place maybe falling into the hands of the Vees—just another corporate venture with a smile and a noose.

Out here, at least, the lies didn’t wear perfume.

Angel walked quietly, running on fumes, the aftermath of too many sleepless nights catching up with him. His steps grew uneven, his long legs starting to wobble beneath him. He swayed, blinking hard like he could will the world to stop spinning.

Alastor caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and turned his head, expression unreadable. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Shut up. I’m doin’ fine,” Angel muttered, teeth gritted. But he didn’t look fine—not even close. He wobbled again, one heel catching a crack in the pavement.

Alastor arched a brow, half amused, half annoyed. “You might consider stopping for something to eat—unless you’re fine with collapsing in the middle of the road.”

“I said I’m fine,” Angel snapped, waving a shaky hand like that would dismiss the concern. He didn’t even look at him.

A beat passed. Then, without another word, Alastor raised a hand, and a few of his signature shadowy tendrils unfurled from the air like lazy vines. With surprising gentleness, they looped around Angel and lifted him off the ground—effortless, as if the spider weighed nothing.

Angel yelped, kicking slightly in the air. “H-Hey! What the hell?!”

“Come on,” Alastor said smoothly, a mischievous grin curling his lips. “I know of an establishment where we can drown our sorrows.”

Suspended in mid-air, arms crossed and face flushed with a mix of exhaustion and annoyance, Angel shot him a glare. “A bar?”

Alastor’s grin widened, eyes glinting with something unreadable. “Something better than a bar!”

“An Ice Cream Bar!!” Alastor announces excitedly as he leads Angel to his favorite little spot just outside of Cannibal Town.

The place is called Joel’s Treats, styled like a 1950s diner. Inside, retro booths line the walls, neon signs flicker above, and the scent of sugar and something slightly sinister hangs in the air.

A long freezer display stretches across the counter, packed with every kind of hellish ice cream imaginable—from Root Beer Fizz Special to booze-infused favorites like Strawberry Cider Swirl. There’s even a dedicated section for cannibal-themed flavors: Bloody Cream Swirl, Cannibal Chips Surprise... this place really has it all.

Alastor is happily digging in, eyes twinkling with childlike joy. Angel, on the other hand, is just idly stirring his with a spoon, barely touching it.

“You’d better start eating,” Alastor says between bites, “or your ice cream will melt into a sugary puddle.”

Angel sighs, still poking at the sundae. “This is just sugar and fat. Honestly, it's worse than the bread!” He gestures to it with his spoon. “If I eat this thing, I’ll never get another job—calories alone will kill my career.”

Alastor tilts his head, amused. “But... you’re not working right now, are you?”

“Yeah, thanks to Charlie.” Angel grumbles as he finally stabs the spoon into the sundae and takes a reluctant bite. “You’re lucky, y’know. Being an Overlord means you get to do whatever you want.”

Alastor chuckles as he scoops another spoonful. “Yes, I am an Overlord. But even I can’t do everything. I have an image to maintain.”

Angel eyes him. “Y’know, I actually heard about you a while back. Some rumor that a kid became an Overlord and flipped the whole status quo.”

“I thought it was just wishful thinking,” Angel continues. “Like something desperate kids came up with to stay sane after being stuck in Hell too long.” He turns to Alastor. “You can imagine my surprise when I found out you were real.”

Alastor beams, clearly proud. “Yes, yes, I am amazing. Me, becoming a symbol of what children can achieve if they put their minds to it... It’s all true, according to the rumors.”

He places a hand on his chest, speaking theatrically. “Like you, being famous is a burden. All that attention... it’s exhausting. Truly, it’s hard to be me.”

Angel rolls his eyes. “You’ve got an ego to match, too.”

“And you don’t?” Alastor shoots back, jabbing his spoon toward Angel. “You tell everyone you’re a superstar.”

Angel huffs, placing a hand on his chest. “Because I am one!”

“Then I’m the first child Overlord!” Alastor fires back proudly, before diving into another bite of his bloody sundae.

Angel glances at his sundae again. He exhales sharply. “Fuck it.”

He dives in, shoveling spoonfuls into his mouth like a starving man. “Keep ’em coming!” he yells to the ice cream guy. “I can eat all night!!”

“Me too!” Alastor chimes in with glee, grinning as he devours his dessert.

The two of them dig into their sundaes, laughing, yelling, and trying—just for a little while—to forget everything else.

Later that night, Husk arrives at the ice cream parlor—one of Alastor’s usual haunts whenever he’s feeling down. He steps inside, scanning the place, hoping the Radio Demon brought Angel along.

Behind the counter, Joel—the ice cream man—is busy cleaning glasses. When he spots Husk, he simply nods toward the bar.

There they are. The two knuckleheads.

Angel is slumped over on a barstool, face buried in his hands, moaning through what can only be described as an ice-cream headache. He tries to lie flat on the table, completely out of it. Alastor, meanwhile, is passed out cold on the floor, deep in a full-on sugar coma.

Husk sighs. “Alright, you two. We’re going back to the hotel,” he mutters as he walks over, already regretting this mission.

He tries tugging Angel off the stool and nudging Alastor awake. Angel just swats at him, not even looking up. Alastor, when shaken, barely manages a groggy “Uhnnnn…”

Husk groans. This is going to be a pain.

He crouches down and lifts Alastor onto his back, spreading his wings around him protectively. He knows Alastor can’t be seen like this—vulnerable, unconscious—especially not in public. Reputation matters in Hell, and the Radio Demon’s is no exception.

Fortunately, they’ve done this before. As soon as Alastor’s draped over him, the demon instinctively curls around Husk’s back, allowing him to walk hands-free.

“Alright, now you,” Husk says, turning to Angel and trying to peel him off the bar.

“Go away!” Angel groans, clutching the counter like it’s his lifeline.

“Charlie’s worried about you,” Husk grunts, tugging harder. “She’ll explain everything once we’re back. So let’s move.”

“Well, I don’t wanna,” Angel snaps, stubborn as ever.

Husk grits his teeth, struggling to yank Angel off the stool while balancing Alastor on his back. Just then, Joel catches the chaos from behind the bar and gives a subtle signal.

A large polar bear sinner strolls out from the back room—towering, calm, and clearly used to this kind of thing. She walks up to Angel without a word, scoops him up like a sack of sugar, and carries him to the door with effortless strength.

Outside, she gently sets him down and returns to the shop.

Still outside, Husk calls back, “Thanks, Joel! Just send the bill to the Hazbin Hotel!”

Joel gives a nod and flashes an “OK” hand sign in return.

With Alastor on his back and Angel now swaying on his feet, Husk grabs Angel by the arms and starts leading him home. Angel, still woozy from the sugar crash and throbbing headache, finally gives in and lets himself be dragged back toward the hotel.

The three sinners soon arrive at a rest stop with a bench on the side of the street. Husk, feeling winded from all the physical effort, sets Alastor down on the bench and takes a moment to catch his breath.

Angel, still standing, watches Husk with mild irritation. “So, why are you helping Charlie anyway?” he blurts out. “She totally sold out to the Vees!”

Husk looks at him calmly. “You don’t have the full picture. Charlie worked with Velvette to help you.” He points a finger at Angel. “You should be happy—she got you time off.”

Angel snaps back, “I didn’t ask Charlie to help! She shouldn’t have meddled in my life. I was fine—great—until she showed up!” He stomps his foot, trying to punctuate the anger.

“Charlie’s just looking out for you,” Husk replies. “She’s not perfect, sure. But her intentions? They’re real.”

He shrugs. “I’d know. You live long enough on the streets, you learn to spot the ones who mean it—and she does.”

Angel gives an exaggerated wave of his hand. “Oh, right. Here comes the ‘wise old bartender’, full of street smarts and tragic backstories.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure, like you would get it, street kid.”

Husk frowns. “What’s wrong with being a street kid? Me and Alastor are both from there. We’re still standing.”

Angel folds his arms and turns away. “You just don’t get it. Being a star? It’s different.”

He glances down, voice dropping. “You’ve got all these expectations hanging over you. You have to be perfect all the time, or else... you’re just not enough.”

Husk raises a brow. “That sounds exhausting. Just pretending all the time?” He scoffs. “Who the hell would want that?”

Then he yells, “Let me tell you something—nobody in that hotel cares how famous or how cute you are! So you might as well just—”

He stops, lowering his tone. “—cut the act and let loose.”

“I CAN’T!” Angel spins around, eyes brimming with tears. Husk steps back, stunned.

“I can’t fall short. I have to be perfect. If I’m not useful to the Vees, I’m worthless—trash, thrown out like I was on the streets!” Angel’s voice cracks as the tears fall.

“Acting’s all I’ve got! It’s the only thing my family and the Vees ever saw value in! It’s the only thing I’m good for!”

He throws his hands in the air. “If I let go of this—then what am I? Who the hell am I?! Just some loser kid with no skills other than killing—like everyone else in Hell!”

He clutches his chest. “Even my dad only cared about my acting! He always saw me as a sissy, never good enough for anything else!”

Angel breaks. The words spill out between sobs now. “I messed things up with my big brother… The only reason the Vees haven’t gone after him is because I stay useful—and out of his way!”

He collapses onto the sidewalk, curling into a ball. Knees pulled in, arms wrapped around them, head buried between his legs.

“It’s the only thing I can do now.”

Husk stares at him—speechless at first—his expression softening with a mix of sympathy and guilt. Then, without a word, he walks over and plops down beside Angel on the pavement.

Alastor remains slumped on the bench, still passed out from his sugar coma.

After a pause, Husk speaks. “Y’know… I almost made it to the big leagues once.”

Angel peeks up at him, still teary-eyed.

Husk lets out a sigh and offers a crooked smile.

“Yeah. Felt pretty damn good, too. Back then, fooling adults was easy—just put on the innocent kid act, and they were eating out of your hand.”

Husk thinks back to the days when he ran his own gambling den, a place where both kids and adults came, risking everything and losing themselves in the process.

“I used to think that being at the top meant life would be a breeze, that everything would just fall into place,” Husk murmurs to himself, eyes distant as he recalls his past.

“One day, I saw the Radio Demon—Alastor—just wandering around my den. I thought, if I could snag Alastor's soul for myself, I could really make a name in the big leagues of Hell.”

“So, I challenged him in a rigged game, thinking I could win.” He chuckles bitterly. “I was so cocky, so sure I’d come out on top.”

A brief flashback reveals Husk feeling invincible, a stack of cards stacked in his favor, every detail of the game bent toward his victory.

“But... I lost. I lost everything, including my soul.”

The memory flashes forward to the moment in the game when Alastor wins—his cards a perfect fan, his face a wicked grin. Stacks of poker chips surround him, and voodoo symbols flicker and spin around him in a terrifying display of power.

The dim lighting casts an ominous shadow over his side of the room.

“It was rock bottom,” Husk says, his voice quieter now.

“My soul was owned, and I had nothing left. I thought it was over. And I couldn’t help but feel... jealous of Alastor. The kid had everything. He was an Overlord—one of the most powerful sinners in Hell. What more could a sinner want?”

A flashback reveals that Husk has lost it all—his gambling den is gone, most of his powers are stripped away, and he doesn't even possess his own soul anymore. He’s got a mountain of empty bottles around him while he drowns his sorrows in drink.

Husk is giving Alastor a pretty intense glare because of all the trouble he's causing.

“Alastor had it all—power, respect, influence—and there I was, just another washed-up has-been.”

But then, Husk continues, the tone in his voice shifting, “You know, the more time I spend with Alastor, the more I realize that life at the top isn't as glamorous as it seems.”

Husk is now seen trailing Alastor through Hell, watching the constant strain the Radio Demon is under. He begins to understand that, despite the perks, being at the top comes with its own set of burdens.

“Alastor is always in danger,” Husk says, watching from a distance as Alastor encounters various foes.

“There are people who want to kill him, or own him. He always has to keep his guard up. He can't trust anyone. He can’t let anyone get close.”

As Husk follows Alastor, the shadows around them grow darker, more ominous. He watches as the shadows grow bigger, inching toward Alastor like a predator.

“Alastor has to keep up his image as a ruthless killer while being the most powerful child sinner in Pride. He can’t afford to let down his guard—he’s always training, always keeping himself sharp. It’s the only way to survive.”

Husk’s words hang in the air, and Angel thinks back to the piles of books Alastor was poring over earlier at the hotel. Angel always thought Alastor was just a bookworm, but now it makes sense.

Alastor wasn’t just reading for fun—he was studying to stay strong, to keep up with the changing times in Hell.

“A lot of kids look up to Alastor,” Husk continues, shaking his head slightly.

“Which means he’s got enemies everywhere. There are creeps who want to take advantage of him. The kids turn to him for protection, and he has to be strong enough to give it.”

Husk’s expression grows more serious.

“The stronger his powers get, the more he has to control his emotions. If he lets them slip, he might end up back where he was seven years ago—back in that chaos.”

A flashback cuts in: Alastor, putting on his mask of someone that is strong, confident and imposing. Surrounded by adoring kids.

But behind him, his shadows twist and writhe, growing larger and more violent with every passing second.

“And for all the things Alastor has done and become,” Husk concludes, “the one thing he can’t do is be a kid. Not even for a second. Not until the hotel, at least.”

Husk looks at Angel, the corners of his mouth curling into a soft, reassuring smile.

“This made me realize that being at the top isn’t everything. It’s how you live your life and make decisions that are right for you—not for everyone else.”

He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle.

“Being on the street may suck, yeah. But there are worse things. If you play your cards right…”

He gave a small, hopeful shrug.

“You can find your own place. And live on your own terms.”

Husk begins to sing, his voice filled with a mix of sarcasm and camaraderie. “So things look bad, and your back's against the wall.”

“Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless,” he continues, his tone lighthearted. “You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall.”

“Can't face the world sober and dopeless,”

He keeps singing, his voice getting more playful, as he teases Angel about the way he’s feeling down and struggling to handle life while sober.

“You've lost your way; you think your life is wrecked.” He looks at Angel with a grin, adding, “Well, let me just say you're correct!!”

Angel blinked. “Wait, what?”

Husk flashes a knowing grin and sings, “You're a loser, baby.”

“A loser, goddamn baby.”

“You're a fucked-up little whiny bitch.”

He dances around Angel, singing with glee.

Angel glares at him. “Hey!”

“You're a loser, just like me,” Husk declares, still dancing.

“Thanks, asshole,” Angel shoots back, flipping Husk the finger.

“You’re a screws-loose-boozer,” Husk sings, “An only one-star reviews-er.”

He continues, describing how Angel seems unhinged—putting on a shiny show for everyone to see, but his life is such a disaster that it barely even rates a one-star review.

“You're a power-bottom at rock bottom,” he sings with a smirk.

Husk shakes his head slightly, acknowledging how Angel is struggling—feeling lost and directionless. He sings that despite hitting rock bottom, Angel isn’t alone in his misery.

“But you got company.”

“This is supposed to make me feel better?” Angel asks, still not getting Husk’s point.

Husk leans against a window display, looking at his reflection, before answering, “There was a time I thought no one could relate…”

“To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged.”

He sings about a darker time in his life—he feels that no one understands him or how damaged he is. He feels alone in the world, and it’s better to shut everyone out. But one day, he realized it was actually the complete opposite of what he should have been doing.

“But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight!” He strikes a dramatic pose, then plops down next to Angel.

“We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich.”

Angel, feeling the rhythm, starts singing too. “I sold my soul to a couple of narcissistic freaks.”

“Haha! And you think that makes you unique?” Husk chuckles, joining in on the song, then extends a hand to Angel. “Get outta here, man!”

They start dancing a little—Husk holding Angel’s hand, the two of them embracing the fact that they’re both losers, but it’s fine. They’re in the same boat and it's totally fine, Angel, to be—

“Coked-up, clout-chasing tween?” Angel finishes Husk’s line with a smirk.

“Baby, that’s fine by me,” Husk sings back.

“I’m a loser, honey,” Angel starts, feeling the vibe. “A schmoozer and a dummy!”

Angel joins in, “But at least I know I’m not alone; you're a loser just like me.” They both belt out the lines together.

Husk then sings about his addiction to gambling and conning people, and how that got him into trouble. Angel follows up, singing about his desperation to be famous, how he’ll sell out to any contract that looks good just to avoid being on the street.

“Now I’m on that demon’s leash,” Husk sings.

“I'm trapped, and it gets worse with every hour.” They sing together, their voices harmonizing.

They both sing about how, thanks to their vices, they’re now stuck in contracts with their souls owned by someone else, and how much it sucks.

“You're a loser, baby,” Angel sings to Husk.

Husk looks at him, then sings, “A loser, but just maybe if we—”

“Eat shit together, things will end up differently,” they both sing, finishing the thought in perfect unison.

They laugh, knowing they’ve found some comfort in each other’s misery. They’re not alone, and that’s something.

“It’s time to lose your self-loathing,” Husk sings, giving Angel a warm smile. “Excuse yourself, let hope in, baby.”

“Play your card, be who you are,” Husk continues.

They finish the song together: “A loser, just like me…”

Angel chuckles and says, “Wow. Kitty sure knows his way with words.”

“Being a bartender has its perks,” Husk replies in a laid-back tone, arms crossed and smirking.

A sudden shuffling sound comes from the bench behind them. Both turn to see Alastor now wide awake, his deer ears twitching as if they’ve picked up something.

“We’ve got company,” he warns, eyes narrowing as he begins partially shifting into his demon form.

From the shadows, a group of shark demons emerges—weapons drawn, teeth bared—as they make their way toward the trio on the sidewalk.

“Well, well, well,” one of them sneers. “Look what we have here. The Radio Demon and two helpless kids. Why don’t ya come with us and nobody gets hurt?”

Husk steps forward, summoning his cards. He flicks them with deadly precision, slicing through the demons’ weapons. “Oh shit—stay down. I’ve got this.”

With swift movements, Husk takes down several of the goons using his cards—until one manages to leap onto his back.

“Hehe, you're fucking dead—” The goon yells out as he is about to stab Husk.

Before he can land the blow, a gunshot rings out.

“Eat lead, sucka!!” Angel shouts, gleefully blasting the demon off Husk’s back.

Another goon reaches for a radio to call backup—only to realize it’s been fried.

He turns, looking for his comrades, only to find them all dead. A dark shadow falls over him. He looks up—and freezes.

Standing above him is Alastor, fully transformed, his demonic form towering and silent.

“This... did not go as planned—” the goon stammers, right before a terrified scream marks his end.

Moments later, the three are left standing in the street—blood-splattered, panting, and roughed up.

“Well, that was something I didn’t expect to see,” Husk says, nudging Angel with his elbow, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Angel runs his fingers through his hair, straightening it with flair. “Told ya. I’m not just good at acting—I’m good at killing, too.”

He takes a breath. “Maybe now that I’ve got some time off, I can figure out what else I’m good at.”

“Good to know,” Husk replies with a grin. “’Cause this guy ain’t half bad.”

The moment is abruptly interrupted by a wet gagging sound. Both Husk and Angel turn to see Alastor hunched over the corpse of the last demon, vomiting violently.

Apparently, the sugar high and sinner meat do not mix well.

The other two wince at the sight.

“Yikes,” Angel mutters.

Chapter Text

Alastor, Angel Dust, and Husk return to the hotel together, with both Angel and Husk laughing as they walk through the door.

“So, she had this hair curler all tangled up in her hair,” Angel snickers, “and to cover it up, she just styled it into an afro!”

Husk laughs, “Hehe, and this is the bitch you gotta take orders from?”

“I know! What a fucking joke, right?” Angel cackles, sharing the laugh.

Charlie quickly rushes over, relief washing over her as she pulls both Angel and Alastor into a tight hug.

“I’m so glad you’re both okay!” she says, voice trembling. “I’m sorry for not telling you about the Vees. And I—”

Angel cuts her off gently. “Charlie, it’s fine. I get it. Thanks… for caring about me.”

Then he adds, “And I’m really sorry for being such a jerk about it.”

Charlie begins to cry—happy tears streaming down her face. But Alastor stands off to the side, arms folded, clearly still unconvinced.

“Well,” he says loudly, “I haven’t completely forgiven Charlie yet.”

Everyone turns to look at him.

“I still don’t like that she got involved with the Vees. And I’m not sure if I can trust her… yet.”

Charlie kneels down to his level and meets his eyes.

“That’s okay,” she says softly. “You don’t have to trust me right away.”

She speaks gently, with understanding. “I know you’ve been through a lot, and I know trust isn’t something you give easily.”

“But I promise you this.” Her voice steadies, eyes firm with determination. “You will be safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you. Not while I’m around.”

“You don’t have to believe me yet,” she continued. “I’ll earn that trust. Bit by bit.”

Then she stood and turned to look at the other kids hanging around the lobby.

“And if there’s ever anything any of you want to share with me, talk about, or even just scream out loud—I’m here. Always.”

Angel shifted awkwardly and asked, “Sooo… how do we start that?”

Charlie tapped her chin, thoughtful.

“Hmm… well… it starts with sorry.”

The three kids just stared at her, clearly confused.

She began to sing, “That's your foot in the door.”

Placing a hand on each of the boys’ shoulders, she continued,

“One simple sorry, spoken straight from your core.”

She let go and twirled across the lobby, her voice lifting as she sang with heartfelt clarity.

“The path to forgiveness is a twisting trail of hearts…”

Turning back to face them, she launched into the full number,

“But sorry is where it starts!”

Angel joined in with a line full of self-deprecating guilt, “Who would forgive ungrateful jerks like we?”

“We don’t deserve your amnesty.”

Then came Alastor, his tone dramatic and sly as he sang about using his voodoo to spill blood as a way of making up for things—his own twisted version of justice.

“That’s an option you could choose…” Charlie sang hesitantly, clearly hoping they wouldn’t pick it.

“Works for me,” Alastor replied, grinning.

But Charlie sang there were better ways—paths that didn’t involve violence or vengeance.

“But who hasn’t been in these shoes? It starts with sorry.”

She reminded them that a real apology, when sincere, could go a long way toward starting over.

“Sorry…” Angel sang, his voice softer now. “Dig down deeper to say one sincere sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!” Charlie sang, turning to both boys, who were now actually listening.

“And our journey’s underway!” She and Angel sang together in harmony.

“It'll take time to cover”

Together, they sang about how trust takes time—and how they’d stumble along the way. But this was a start.

“The mistakes I’ve done again and again”

“But sorry is where it begins”

Now that they see it’s a genuine attempt to connect with them, and who knows, maybe the kids will also try to bond with Charlie as well. All they needed to do was begin by saying sorry.

“It starts with sorry,” they finished, voices joining in a hopeful crescendo.

A long pause followed.

Then Alastor let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“…Okay. I’ll give you another chance,” he declared. “We’ll give it another go.”

Charlie’s joy bubbled over. She rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “Oh, Alastor! Thank you so much!”

He stood awkwardly in her embrace, giving her a stiff but honest pat on the back.

From the side, Vaggie stood with her arms crossed but a smile tugging at her lips. Watching Charlie reconnect with the kids—it was something she never got tired of seeing.

But then Charlie’s face twisted.

She sniffed once… then again… and gagged.

She pulled back from Alastor, coughing. “Augh! What’s that smell?!”

“I threw up,” Alastor said casually, like it was no big deal.

Vaggie stepped closer, concerned—only to immediately gag and cover her nose.

“Whoa—how can puke smell that bad?!”

Angel shrugged. “Probably ’cause he threw up all over himself after killing a bunch of demons and getting drenched in their guts.”

Without missing a beat, Charlie grabbed Alastor’s hand.

“Okay! Let’s get you upstairs and cleaned up!”

She led him quickly toward the staircase, with Vaggie trailing behind and muttering something about burning his clothes.

“And this time, use soap,” Charlie called out. “I’ll even lend you mine!”

As the trio disappeared upstairs, quiet returned to the lobby. Husk and Angel were left standing in the middle of it.

Husk looked over with a smirk. “So… how about that drink?”

Angel grinned. “You read my mind.”

Chapter Text

It’s early morning, and Vaggie is still tucked in bed, fast asleep. She shifts slightly before stirring awake, letting out a big yawn and rubbing her eyes. She glances to her left and notices that Charlie is missing—her side of the bed still neatly made, which means Charlie never even came to bed after Vaggie had turned in.

“Charlie?” Vaggie calls out, looking around the room and realizing she’s alone.

Meanwhile, in the hotel lobby—

Charlie is surrounded by a chaotic web of papers and red string sprawling across the fireplace and creeping up the nearby walls. Her eyes dart frantically between the documents, hands moving with jerky urgency as she ties strings between thumbtack pins, muttering to herself under her breath.

Husk watches from the couch with a concerned expression, pouring liquor into his morning coffee—his “Fuck Mondays” mug clutched tightly in one hand.

Niffty’s eye zips around, feeding off Charlie’s manic energy, while Alastor sits nearby, clearly enjoying the chaos as if it were a well-staged play.

Just then, Vaggie walks downstairs, blinking in disbelief at the scene before her.

“I’m just not understanding why it’s not working. Okay, okay, think, Charlie. Think, think, think, think, think, think, think...” Charlie mutters rapidly as she rummages through the pinned-up mess.

She grabs a few strings and ties them around pins with erratic precision, linking one corner of the wall to the opposite side. “I have trust falls every single morning! We can do—”

Angel Dust steps into the room, taking one look at the scene.

“Yikes…” is all he manages to say.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, Charlie!” she growls, gripping her head with both hands, eyes wild with frustration.

“Charlie?... Sweetie?” Vaggie approaches, voice laced with concern. “You... you good?”

Charlie turns around, eyes bloodshot and veins visible in her sclera, wearing a manic, sleep-deprived grin.

“Nope! Nope, not really!” she replies, then immediately spins back to the wall of chaos. “Haha! I’ve been up all night trying to figure out why the hotel isn't working!”

She grabs a sheet of paper and crushes it in her hand.

“We’ve done trust falls. We’ve shared our feelings. We only have a month and a half before the angels come—”

As her panic rises, the room begins to tremble. Her demonic power seeps out, warping the air, and she briefly transforms into a terrifying, otherworldly version of herself—letting out a mad cackle—before snapping back to normal.

“And at this rate…” she mutters, heart racing, eyes darting.

Vaggie steps forward, cautiously offering, “Maybe it’s time—”

“NO!” Charlie whirls around to face her.

“To ask—” Vaggie continues, unfazed.

Charlie leans in close, squishing Vaggie’s cheeks, eyes wide with desperation. “DON’T. SAY. IT.”

“Your dad.” Vaggie finishes, gently.

Charlie groans, letting go of her and slumping forward with a heavy sigh. “Ugh…”

“Charlie, I know you don’t want to,” Vaggie says softly, “but we need every advantage we can get. No matter how painful it is.”

Charlie stares at her, uncertainty written across her face.

“He was the one who allowed the exterminations to happen in the first place. They just had a meeting and said, ‘Go ahead and kill everyone’—”

She suddenly gasps, eyes lighting up. “Wait. That’s it!”

“Kill everyone?” Alastor chimes in with excitement.

Niffty, now beside him, gleefully brandishes a large knife, ready for action.

Charlie whirls around. “No! He could get me a meeting with Heaven!”

“Didn’t we already try that?” Vaggie reminds her.

Charlie glanced over at Vaggie, determination slowly kindling in her eyes.

“Well. Yeah, with Adam, he was an asshole. But he isn't in charge of all of Heaven,” she said, voice picking up with energy.

“We could go to the top!”

She pointed her finger upwards, a spark of new hope flickering in her expression.

“There have to be angels who will listen,” she insists, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts.

Her thumb pauses over “Dad” as she scrolls past “Egg Boiz 1,” “Egg Boiz 2,” and “Egg Boiz 3.”

She hesitates, staring at the name.

“What’s the holdup? You got daddy issues?” Husk deadpans, sipping his drink.

Charlie sighs. “No, we just… we’ve never been close. After he and Mom split, he never really wanted to see me.”

She looks down. “He calls sometimes… but only if he’s bored, or needs something.”

Husk raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah. That’s called daddy issues.”

Everyone else in the room snickers. Vaggie glares at them, her patience wearing thin.

Angel lounges on the couch, glancing over at Charlie. “Well, I’d like to meet the big wig. I wonder if he’s really like the stories say he is.”

Niffty chimes in, still holding her knife (now upside down), “The ultimate bad boy!”

Angel, side-eyeing her nervously, stealthily removes the knife from her grip without her noticing.

“I bet he’s scary,” Niffty says dreamily, completely unaware her weapon is now gone.

In a dimly lit, eerie room at the Morningstar Palace, dozens of framed photographs hang crookedly on the walls. The Morningstar family looks surprisingly wholesome in many of them—especially the ones centered on Charlie, captured smiling alongside both her parents in what seems to be happier times.

In one corner of the room, low snarling noises echo as Lucifer busies himself with something peculiar. The space is overflowing with rubber ducks—some stuffed into boxes, others jammed into tubs, and hundreds more lined up as wall decorations. The quantity must number in the thousands.

A raspy, theatrical whisper fills the air. “That's it... Almost there… Now presenting…”

Lucifer spins dramatically, arms wide as he reveals his latest invention.

“—The magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck! Ha-ha!”

He brandishes it with the flair of a carnival ringmaster.

"That spits fire!" he announces proudly—just as the duck in his hand blasts a flame from its beak.

"Hoo hoo hoo!" he laughs with delight, gazing at the flaming toy in admiration.

Then, standing tall before an invisible audience, he bows deeply.

“Hold the applause! Please—okay—oh, thank you, thank you!”

Suddenly, his face drops. His manic energy deflates.

"Oh god, who am I kidding? This sucks."

With a sigh, he hurls the duck at a nearby family portrait and slumps in defeat.

He wore a circus ringmaster-inspired ensemble, sharp and gaudy in equal measure. His tailored white-and-red outfit was crowned by a broad-brimmed top hat, where a golden snake coiled lazily around a red apple atop spiked golden trim—like a twisted version of a royal crown. His coat flared dramatically over a candy-striped waistcoat dotted with shiny gold buttons, finished with a dainty black bowtie at the collar.

Knee-high heeled black boots clicked with every step, and on his pinkie finger glinted a single gold ring—his wedding band, long untouched by time but heavy with memory.

Suddenly, a ringtone cuts through the silence. Lucifer glances at his phone—and nearly drops it in shock.

“Daughter? Daughter calling! Daughter, daughter—OH!”

He scrambles upright, stumbling toward his cluttered workstation, muttering in a flurry, “Okay, okay—Hello, Charlie. H-Hey, hey Char-Char! No. No, that's awful…”

He practices a few more greetings, pacing as the ringtone continues. “This is the first time she’s called you in years. This has to be perfect.”

Finally, he takes a breath, picks up the phone, and—

“Hey, bitch!” he blurts, with a grin too wide for the moment.

Charlie, clearly thrown, responds awkwardly. “Hi, Dad…”

Next to her, Vaggie throws up two big thumbs in a silent you-got-this gesture.

“Hey! How are you? Oh-ho! Wh-where are you these days?” Lucifer asks, trying way too hard to sound casual.

“You know where I am, Dad. I’ve told you before.” Charlie’s tone is flat, edged with restrained frustration.

Lucifer fumbles with one of the rubber ducks on his desk. “You have? Oh, yeah—uh… well, you know, I… uh—”

“I told you when you called me five months ago. Or did you just not listen?” she snaps, irritation rising.

He grabs his cane and twirls it half-heartedly as he strolls toward a massive duck statue.

“No, no, no. I just… forgot! I’ve been really busy. With, um…”

He kicks the rubber duck. “Important things.”

“Well, I’m running a hotel to rehabilitate sinners. Maybe you saw the commercial?” Charlie continues, attempting to refocus the conversation.

Lucifer fidgets as he shuffles past more duck displays.

“Oh... sadly, I missed it. Heh heh. Haven’t been watching much TV lately. Scrambles the brain.”

He makes a goofy sound with his mouth. “But hey, a hotel! Fun!”

Charlie exhales a long, tired sigh. “Listen, Dad. I’ve got… kind of a big ask.”

Lucifer sips tea from a nearby table, coughs lightly, then sets the cup down. “Yeah, of course. Anything in my power is yours for the asking. Just name it~”

Charlie pauses, then steels herself.

“I need to speak to Heaven. Like... whoever’s in charge. Above Adam. Above everyone. I need to go to the top.”

Lucifer freezes, blinking. “Oh. No. No~ No-no-no-no-no, Charlie. No. That’s, uh... ha, no.”

So many “no”s tumble out in one breath, it’s like he’s suddenly a Pokémon whose only word is no.

Charlie’s eye twitches in frustration. “Look, Dad, I don’t ask for much.”

Her voice softens. “I never have. But this... this is really important to me. The most important thing I’ve ever done.”

Vaggie gently takes Charlie’s hand, giving her a silent nod of encouragement.

“And I... need you. I need your help.”

Lucifer hesitates. For once, the flamboyant showman seems unsure.

“I don’t know, Charlie…”

“Please!” Charlie pleads, her voice trembling. “Just come see what I’m trying to do. You’ll see why it’s a good idea.”

“And Heaven is bound to agree if I just get the chance to talk to them. Please, Dad.”

Charlie sounds genuinely desperate, her voice fragile through the phone. But Lucifer knows Heaven won’t be what she expects. It’s dangerous—brutal, even. She could be hurt, or worse, disillusioned.

He opens his mouth to object—but something about her words hits him.

“Wait. You’re... inviting me over?”

His face lights up with childlike glee. He completely loses track of the situation.

“Absolutely! Hoh! I’ll be there in an hour!”

He hangs up without another word and breaks into a gleeful spin toward the door.

“My daughter wants to see me~!”

He jabs a finger at a rubber duck beneath him, eyes wide with manic joy.

“Take that, depression!” he declares with a crazed grin.

Chapter Text

Charlie hangs up the phone and turns to the group. “Welp, we have an hour until he gets here.”

“Okay, people!” Vaggie shouts in a commanding, military-like tone.

The kids immediately snap to attention—though Husk spills his coffee all over himself, and Niffty collapses dramatically to the floor.

“Lucifer is on his way,” Vaggie announces, pacing like a drill sergeant. “So we are going to get this place presentable, and we are going to make an amazing impression.”

She raises her voice and calls out, “¡Vámonos!”

Everyone scrambles into action, rushing to prepare the hotel for Charlie’s dad.

Niffty takes charge of the lobby and parlor, dusting every surface with frenzied energy. She rearranges the scattered plush toys, carefully posing them to look charming and welcoming. Some even get little bows and ribbons, salvaged from the least damaged dolls she could find.

Husk, still grumbling about the coffee stain, heads to the bar. He stashes the pile of empty wallets littering the counter and gives the area a quick wipe-down. Between mopping the floor and mixing up a few welcome drinks, he even manages to lend Niffty a hand.

Angel and Alastor work together to hang up decorations throughout the lobby. Alastor uses his tentacles to place streamers and garlands in high, hard-to-reach spots, humming a cheerful tune the whole time. Angel Dust, ever the artist, gets creative with leftover hotel décor, transforming the space with surprising flair.

Meanwhile, Razzle and Dazzle put up a big “Welcome Lucifer” banner, adding colorful balloons on either side for extra festivity. To keep the space clear, they push most of the toys neatly against the walls. They also cover up torn wallpaper and small holes in the walls by hanging up the kids’ artwork—turning the damage into a heartfelt display.

About thirty minutes before Lucifer was supposed to arrive, the doorbell rang. Charlie, recognizing the timing, grabbed her wallet and hurried to answer it.

She swung the door open and found Carl, their regular delivery guy, standing on the porch with his arms full of takeout bags—the food she’d ordered for Lucifer’s welcome party.

“Hi, Carl,” Charlie greeted him with a smile.

The towering stack of food behind him replied in a muffled voice, “Hey, Charlie. Planning a party?”

Alastor appeared beside her, using his tentacles to help carry in the mountain of takeout.

Charlie pulled out some cash and handed it over.

“Oh, just a small party for my dad. Hey, if you want—”

But before she could finish her sentence, she was staring at empty air.

Carl was gone.

The moment he heard Lucifer was coming, he had vanished without a trace—faster than a bat out of Hell.

Charlie blinked. “Huh…”

Alastor, glancing toward the door as he carried the food inside, remarked dryly, “If only he were that quick delivering our meals.”

Just ten minutes after Carl dropped off the food, the doorbell rang again.

Everyone froze, staring at the door as a wave of panic swept across the room. They weren’t done. Preparations were only halfway finished—and Lucifer was already here. Twenty minutes early.

Charlie gasped, gripping her hair and spinning in place. “My DAD is here?! He’s early?!”

She spiraled into a panic. “He’s never early!! He’s always late—or never shows up at all!!”

Vaggie rushed over and grabbed Charlie by the shoulders, her voice calm but firm. “Charlie, take a deep breath. We’re going to get through this—together.”

Charlie blinked. “Right… Right! Right! Right!” she repeated to herself, shaking off her panic. She took a deep breath, looked around the room, then called out:

“Alright, everyone! Let’s do this!”

The kids dropped what they were doing and scrambled into position around the party table. It was still half-finished—food only half-set, drinks awkwardly arranged—but there wasn’t any more time. They just had to roll with it and hope it would be enough.

Charlie, Vaggie, and Alastor took their places near the entrance. Charlie reached for the doorknob with trembling fingers... and opened the door—

—to find Sir Pentious standing on the porch, flanked by his Egg-Bois.

He held a large tin in his arms and wore a backpack slung over one shoulder. The Egg-Bois immediately burst inside with joyful chaos, but Pentious remained politely at the doorway.

“Hi, Miss Charlie! I’m here to play today!” he announced proudly. “And I brought cookies that I made myself!”

He held up the tin with both hands, clearly proud of whatever was inside.

Everyone inside let out a long, collective sigh of relief.

It wasn’t Lucifer. Just Pentious.

Pentious glanced around at the half-set decorations, balloons, and hurried atmosphere. “Oh, are you guys having a party today?”

“Yes! And it’s a very good thing you showed up!” Charlie leaned in close, a wild smile spreading across her face as her eye twitched nervously. “We need your help!”

“Uh... okay…?” Pentious replied, blinking in confusion at Charlie’s feral expression.

With Pentious and the Egg-Bois pitching in, the crew managed to finish sprucing up the hotel just in time for Lucifer’s arrival. The food and drinks were now laid out neatly on the table, and the decorations looked surprisingly put together. The kids’ artwork had successfully covered most of the holes in the walls and the torn-up wallpaper. Everyone was in position, lined up and ready to make a good impression.

Charlie took a deep breath and turned to everyone. “Okay, everyone. It’s showtime!”

She swung the door open—and there stood Lucifer, beaming with joy.

“Chaaaarlie!” he called out excitedly the moment he saw her.

“Hey, Da—”

Charlie didn’t even get to finish her greeting before Lucifer scooped her into a massive bear hug.

Behind her, Alastor stood stiffly, his smile tight and one eye twitching slightly at the sight of Lucifer embracing Charlie.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you. Haha!” Lucifer gushed, holding her tightly.

Still in his arms, Charlie managed to say, “It’s, um… good to see you too, Dad.”

She gently pushed him back to catch her breath and compose herself.

Gesturing toward the small party table, she showed off their setup. The kids all stood nearby, offering awkward waves and strained smiles as they tried to greet Lucifer.

Charlie cleared her throat and announced, “Welcome… to the Hazbin Hotel!”

The two Egg Boiz pops some party poppers as a warm welcome.

Right on cue, two Egg-Bois popped some party poppers in celebration.

KeeKee trotted over and rubbed her face against Lucifer’s legs. He glanced down and was immediately charmed by her fluffy appearance. He crouched to give her a gentle scratch behind the ears.

“Oh, hewwo, KeeKee!” he cooed, still rubbing her head affectionately.

Just then, Razzle and Dazzle zipped by.

Razzle and Dazzle then fly by, and Lucifer chimes in with a playful tone, “Oh, look how much you haven't grown! Still fun-sized. You taking care of my wittle girl?”

He leans in closer and suddenly shifts to a darker, more menacing tone, “You better be…”

Razzle and Dazzle don’t seem to be bothered at all; they just keep that blank look in their eyes even when Lucifer throws out a threat.

He snickers at them for a moment before letting them off the hook. Razzle and Dazzle begin to fly in circles around the room.

“Wow, this place really looks, uh…” Lucifer paused, trying to find the right word as he scanned the lobby.

Lucifer takes in the general atmosphere of the hotel, his curiosity piqued. He’s eager to see what Charlie has really been up to behind the scenes.

The first thing that catches his eye—beyond the party decorations—is the artwork covering the walls.

Over the last five months, the younger kids and Niffty have been busy creating drawings and art projects to keep themselves occupied. Art therapy became one of the few activities the children could participate in without chaos, so Charlie made it a regular part of their routine. Husk’s artwork is also featured on the walls—though it’s well known that Alastor practically dragged him into joining.

Not only does the artwork liven up the place, it cleverly conceals the many holes and cracks the kids left behind from playing a little too recklessly indoors. But beyond the cover-up, it’s a vibrant display of how creative these kids can be.

Lucifer’s gaze shifts to the lobby vases. Several of them have clearly been shattered and then glued back together. It doesn’t take much to figure out what happened; the kids likely knocked them over during one of their wild games and then tried to fix them afterward. One vase is still leaking water, and the flowers inside are visibly wilting.

Further along, he notices a variety of toys and plushies lined up neatly along the wall. A few stray balls sit abandoned in a corner, clearly forgotten in the rush of preparing for the party.

Then Lucifer’s eyes land on the guests seated around the party table.

They’re all children.

He blinks, looking around once more—art on the walls, scattered toys, makeshift repairs, and now a room full of kids.

“Charlie…” he begins slowly, raising a brow. “Are you running some kind of daycare? Orphanage? Kids’ care home… thing?”

Lucifer glanced around a bit more and muttered, “Uh-huh… yeah… uh-huh. It’s got a lot of character.” His voice was awkward, uncertain, as he took in the worn-down interior of the hotel.

Then he stumbled upon the bar tucked in the corner—and stopped dead in his tracks. A wave of disapproval washed over him.

“OH! What in the unholy hell is that?!” he exclaimed, pointing. “I thought this place was for kids?!”

He looked around, clearly baffled, wondering why there was a fully stocked bar in what he assumed was a kid-friendly hotel.

Alastor reappeared, seemingly from the fog, and casually positioned himself in front of Angel Dust at the table.

“Just one of the many renovations we’ve made,” Alastor said with a smile. “Really adds a pop of color, don’t you think?”

Lucifer turned to him—and immediately found himself taken aback. Something about Alastor’s small frame, glowing red eyes, and deer-like features made him pause.

With a mischievous grin, Lucifer pointed his cane at the boy. “Awww, who’s the cute little deer...?”

The other kids nearby snickered under their breath.

Alastor’s eye twitched. He vanished from sight—and then reappeared right behind Lucifer, tapping him sharply on the shoulder.

“Alastor,” he said with a strained smile. “Pleasure to meet you, sir. Quite the pleasure.”

Instead of shaking Lucifer’s hand, Alastor grabbed his cane and gave it a firm shake—then theatrically wiped his hands off on his shirt to show just how little he thought of the gesture.

“Nice to finally meet Charlie’s infamous dad,” he added, glancing up at Lucifer, who stood a few inches taller than him.

“You don’t look as scary as they say in the stories.”

Lucifer blinked. “Uhhh… I guess?” was all he could muster.

Alastor pointed his vintage microphone at him with a wide grin. “Why, in fact… you almost look like a clown! Haha!”

Lucifer, now visibly annoyed, turned to Charlie. “Charlie, is this another one of the kids you’re looking after? You should really scold him more. He’s being quite rude.”

Alastor smirked and replied before Charlie could. “Ha! No—I’m not one of the kids. I’m the host of this hotel.”

He straightened his vest proudly. “You might’ve heard of me from my radio broadcast.”

Lucifer let out a chuckle. “Aww... this little guy thinks he’s helping you with your hotel. Like a grown-up.”

He couldn’t help but glance at Alastor’s puffed-up cheeks and twitching ears—those adorable deer features were doing him no favors in an argument.

Alastor’s frustration mounted.

“I’ll have you know,” he huffed, cheeks puffed up even more, “that I am the hotelier of this establishment—and Charlie’s business partner. I even named the hotel!”

In the background, the other kids chuckled softly, trying (and failing) to hide their amusement.

Meanwhile, Charlie and Vaggie stood frozen, caught in a familiar conundrum—torn between thinking the situation was adorable and feeling genuinely concerned.

Alastor’s temper was clearly rising. The shadows at his feet had begun to stir—slithering and twitching like something alive.

Lucifer, completely oblivious to the tension in the room, smiled at Alastor with a playful, almost childlike expression.

“Did you even know what ‘Hazbin’ means?” he asked in a sing-song tone.

“It’s not a very nice word.”

His voice was syrupy with condescension, every syllable dipped in patronizing charm.

Alastor’s fists clenched. His expression darkened. And then—

“Fuck you.”

The words dropped like a bomb.

A collective gasp echoed through the room. Even the Egg-Bois went quiet.

Lucifer blinked. He had actually gotten under Alastor’s skin so much that the kid swore.

Charlie immediately stepped in, practically leaping between them.

“Okay! Okay—anyway!” she said quickly, throwing her arms out to separate the two.

“Dad, stop making fun of Alastor. It’s not nice. You’re the adult here.”

Lucifer shrank back a little at her tone, looking like a scolded child. Alastor, meanwhile, now standing off to the side, wore a smug, triumphant smirk.

Charlie gave Vaggie a quick nod, silently asking her to pull Alastor aside before his powers boiled over any further.

Vaggie stepped in and gently guided the fuming boy away.

Meanwhile, Charlie looped her arm around her dad’s and started leading him into the hotel parlor. She was eager to redirect the mood—and show off the more positive parts of her work.

“Dad, look!” she beamed. “This is the parlor, where people can get to know each other and share secrets, stories, and... intimate feelings!”

Her voice grew increasingly animated as she spoke, her excitement bubbling over. Lucifer glanced at her—eyes wide, cheeks flushed with joy—and couldn’t help but smile. His daughter was glowing with pride. And for a moment, he simply let himself enjoy the sight of her being so happy.

The parlor was still a little messy, with plushies scattered across the floor and couch. Strangely enough, Alastor’s devil-goat plushies were still hanging by the neck from the fireplace mantle—left exactly where he'd last put them.

To make matters worse, it looked like the kids had “cleaned” the gaming area by tossing all the video game consoles onto the couch in a tangled pile. Nothing was on the floor anymore… but now the couch was a disaster zone.

“Without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much,” Charlie said, finishing her thought with a proud smile.

Lucifer looked around, still a bit puzzled. He raised an eyebrow. It was hard for him to wrap his head around the idea that a kid had pulled all of this off.

As if on cue, Alastor—somehow slipping away from Vaggie’s supervision—popped up beside Charlie.

“Charlie has a very unique vision,” he said with theatrical flair. “And I am happy to fulfill her bizarre requests.”

“Aww, thank you, Alastor. You’re so sweet,” Charlie replied warmly, playfully ruffling his hair.

Alastor grinned, then shot Lucifer a smug look. He stuck out his tongue and made a childish spitting sound. “Pfffftttttttt…”

Lucifer sighed, recognizing exactly what the brat was trying to do. Deciding to be the bigger demon, he simply turned away and ignored the taunt.

Instead, he turned to Charlie and said, “Charlie, dear, why don’t you introduce me to your other friends?”

He gave Alastor one last, sharp glare before casually looking away.

Chapter Text

“Oh, yes, of course! This is Vaggie. She’s my girlfriend!” Charlie said brightly, introducing Vaggie to her dad.

She gently took Vaggie’s hand, her voice warm and proud, letting Lucifer know—subtly and sweetly—that she was in a relationship now.

Lucifer burst out laughing. “Oh ho, my golly! You like girls? So do I! We have so much in common!”

Alastor, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow—clearly trying to figure out what on earth Lucifer was even going on about.

“You put ’er there, Maggie!” Lucifer exclaimed, mispronouncing her name as he threw his arms around Vaggie in an overenthusiastic bear hug.

He chuckled as he let her go.

“Hey! She’s so pretty,” he said to Charlie, his tone a little sheepish—clearly trying to make a good impression and show that he approved.

Vaggie, still catching her breath from the unexpected squeeze, stammered, “Uh—lovely to meet you, sir!”

Charlie, smiling wide, waved her dad over toward the party table. “Come on, Dad! Join us!”

The table was loaded with food—thanks to the March Hare Restaurant, which, miraculously, had delivered on time for once. Carl had actually followed through. On top of that, Husk had prepared a few refreshments of his own to round things out.

Lucifer’s eyes lit up when he saw the spread. He was honestly impressed. The food looked great, the drinks were flowing, and Charlie had somehow managed to pull everything together better than he’d expected.

As he admired the setup, Charlie pointed to two kids sitting at one end of the table.

She smiled and said, “And these two are…”

She gestured toward the pink spider kid and said, “That’s Angel Dust, our guest.”

Then she nodded to the small snake child beside him. “And that’s Sir Pentious, our honorary guest. He stops by pretty often.”

At that moment, Angel and Pentious were locked in a mild but dramatic slap fight. Angel was clearly trying to snag a cookie from Pentious’s tin, while Pentious fiercely defended his baked goods, insisting that the king should get the first pick.

“Hands off! They're for His Majesty first!” Pentious declared, lightly swatting at Angel’s reaching hands.

Charlie cleared her throat, giving them a pointed look.

Both boys froze and turned to face her. Pentious, suddenly realizing the king was watching, straightened up and gave a sharp salute.

“Your Majesty!” he shouted—just before losing his balance and faceplanting into the table.

Angel, unfazed, casually snatched a cookie from the tin during the commotion.

“Heya, Your Majesty,” Angel said nonchalantly, taking a bite.

Charlie then gestured toward the drink station. “And that’s Husk—our bartender.”

Husk, leaning lazily behind the counter, offered a two-fingered salute. “Nice to meet you,” he said in a gravelly voice.

“Oh, and Niffty is our housekeeper,” Charlie added, motioning to the energetic blur zipping around the room.

Niffty immediately scurried over, her eyes wide with excitement at the sight of Lucifer. She climbed halfway up his coat like a squirrel.

“Hello!” she chirped, followed by a manic little giggle. “I clean. Hehehehe!”

And just as quickly, she hopped off and darted away again.

There was a brief silence as everyone glanced at Niffty’s retreating figure... then shifted their attention back to Lucifer.

Charlie turned to her father with hopeful eyes. “So, Dad. What do you think?”

Lucifer looked around slowly, clearly still processing the chaotic introductions. “Ahahaha… A lot of kids here… in this… unsafe hotel…”

He raised an eyebrow. Aside from Charlie’s girlfriend, Maggie, everyone else appeared to be a child, or close to it. It didn’t feel like a hotel to him. More like a very strange, questionably run orphanage.

Charlie waved it off. “Dad, don’t worry! Sure, this place has its fair share of destruction… but it’s never not safe for the kids!”

However, just as Charlie finished her sentence, the chandelier in the center of the lobby gave a loud creak—then came crashing down with a deafening smash, sending up a huge cloud of dust.

Everyone immediately broke into fits of coughing.

Alastor had been standing dangerously close to the impact zone, but with a sharp blink and a burst of shadows, he managed to dodge it at the last second using his powers.

“Oh my gosh!!!” Charlie screamed, her eyes wide with panic.

She rushed through the dust cloud toward Alastor.

“Alastor! Are you okay?!” she cried, frantically checking him over for injuries.

Alastor, now covered in a fine layer of debris and coughing heavily, gave her a reassuring (if raspy) nod.

“I’m fine, Charlie,” he wheezed, waving a hand through the dust. “This kind of thing doesn’t really bother me. It’d take a lot more than that to actually get to me.”

He wasn’t injured—but he had definitely inhaled more dust than he should have, and now he couldn’t stop coughing.

Lucifer stood off to the side, watching it all unfold.

Charlie, hunched over a coughing child, a ruined chandelier lying shattered across the floor, and a hotel that looked like it was stitched together with duct tape and hope.

He'd had enough.

Lucifer let out a slow breath, straightened up, and muttered, “Alright, then.”

With a single swing of his cane, the fallen chandelier vanished without a trace.

At the same time, two tiny versions of Lucifer appeared and kicked off a jazzy musical intro. Then, with a wide grin and theatrical flair, Lucifer leapt into his song.

“Looks like you could use some help,” he sang to Charlie, twirling dramatically.

“From the big boss of Hell himself!”

“Check out Daddy’s glowing reviews on Yelp!”

As he sang, Lucifer whipped out his phone and flashed it toward Charlie. The screen displayed a glowing collection of five-star ratings and gushing testimonials praising how "flawless" he was at helping others.

“Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!”

He snapped his fingers, and the review stars sparkled in the air around him.

“With a punch of a pentagram—”

Lucifer carved a glowing pentagram into the air and belted out: “I Wap! Bam! Boom! Alakazam!”

With every word, he twisted and twirled, his body contorting like a stage magician. On “Alakazam,” he unleashed a burst of glittering hellfire magic.

“Usually I charge a sacrificial lamb…”

He delivered the line with a sly wink as the lights dimmed and a dramatic spotlight hit the center of the room. There stood Dazzle—tied up in a comical summoning circle—while a ring of Lucifer clones chanted like cultists around him.

“But you get the family rate!” Lucifer grinned as he snapped his fingers again, poofing the entire ritual away.

All Charlie had to do was nod in appreciation as the crowd of Lucifer clones clapped for themselves.

Then, in a sudden scene shift—poof!—Charlie, Lucifer, and Alastor were now seated in an elegant restaurant. Alastor was dressed in a waiter’s outfit, carefully pouring wine into a glass with practiced precision.

“Who needs a busboy now that you’ve got the chef?”

Lucifer sang while snapping his fingers again. In a flash, Alastor vanished from his spot—and reappeared seated beside Charlie at the table.

Only now, he was dressed in a light blue kiddie tux covered in cartoon duck prints, with a giant bowtie, neatly combed hair, white Sunday socks, and polished shoes. He looked like he was dressed for a very formal preschool picture day.

Lucifer winked as he sang about how Charlie didn’t need a kid’s help when she had him—the King of Hell. A real adult. A professional. The top-tier solution to any problem.

“Michelin tasting menu, free à la carte!”

Two Lucifer clones appeared instantly, setting down covered dishes in front of Charlie and Alastor. One of them lifted the cloche over Charlie’s dish to reveal a lavish cake—on top, a frosted image of her and Lucifer hugging.

Then came Alastor’s turn. The cloche lifted... revealing a carefully arranged kids’ meal—complete with tiny utensils, cartoon-shaped food, and a little paper flag stuck on top labeled: “Kids Meal.”

The not-so-subtle message landed loud and clear: Alastor was just a child. And this was a grown-up’s job.

“I’ll rig the game for you ‘cause I’m the ref!”

A bright flash erupted—and just like that, they were back in the hotel lobby, standing where it had all begun.

Lucifer continued, swaggering through the room like a showman in full swing.

“Champagne fountains!”

He snapped his fingers, and sparkling champagne shot skyward from newly formed golden fountains.

“Caviar mountains!”

Another flourish, and massive glittering towers of caviar appeared on silver platters, rising like shimmering black hills.

He twirled and danced with his clones, magic flaring and spotlights following him.

“That’s just to start!”

Alastor, who had been standing off to the side, finally reached his limit with this clown of a man who just wouldn't stop undermining him.

He marched over to the party table, grabbed a cup full of alcohol, and downed it in one gulp. With his throat cleared and his body full of liquid courage, he stepped forward and burst into song.

“Who's been here since day one?”

Alastor butted into Lucifer’s number, the spotlight now squarely on him.

“Who's been faithful as a nun?”

With a flourish, he popped into Charlie’s personal space—now dressed in an adorable little nun outfit, hands folded primly in front of him.

“Makes you chuckle with tons of funny puns?”

“Your trusted kid partner!”

“That's true!” Charlie chimed in, smiling.

“I'm your guy,

Your day-to-day,

Your chum,

your steadfast hotelier!”

He twirled dramatically, gesturing toward the hotel around them.

“Remember when I fixed that clog today?”

He added with flair, referencing how he saved Niffty from getting stuck in the toilet earlier.

“Oh, you!” Charlie laughed and gave him a proud pat on the head.

“I'm truly honored that we’ve built such a bond—”

“A partnership stronger than blood could respond!”

He spins toward Charlie, holding a hand to his chest with mock sincerity.

“You're like the boss I chose to adore!”

“Not someone who bailed or just showed up at the door.”

Lucifer raises an eyebrow, confused but listening.

“You're like the mom and the dad I never had!”

Lucifer: "Wait, what?"

“I care for you more than some flaky ol’ dad!”

Lucifer: "Excuse me?!"

Alastor turned and locked eyes with Lucifer.

“Who even needs a... DAAAAAAAAAD!”

As he hit the final note, Lucifer—his expression darkening—whipped out a golden fiddle and began to play with furious intensity, charging closer to Alastor.

Suddenly, a piano crashed down from the heavens. Alastor landed on the bench and started pounding the keys aggressively.

Not to be outdone, Lucifer conjured up an accordion, but it was wildly off-key and clashing horribly with the rest of the song.

The lights dimmed.

“They say when you’re looking for assistance,”

Alastor resumed as the spotlight hit Charlie—now juggling a stack of books labeled ‘Leadership,’ ‘Responsibility,’ and ‘Childcare.’

“It’s smart to pick the path with least resistance!”

He used his tentacles to lift half the load from Charlie’s arms.

Lucifer strolled into frame with a smirk.

“Others say that in your needy hour...”

He stomped the ground, summoning a massive golden pentagram beneath his feet.

Then, with a blast of light, he shot upward—his six majestic wings unfurling—

“There’s no substitute for pure angelic power!”

Charlie stared upward, wide-eyed, in awe.

“Who just happens to also be your blood!”

Lucifer then mentions that he's also her blood, which makes them family, and points out that their bond is closer than anyone else's.

“Sadly there are times a birth parent is a dud.”

Alastor leapt up and shoved Lucifer out of Charlie’s space, taking center stage again.

“They say the family you choose is better!”

He held up a large crayon drawing—Charlie holding hands with all the hotel residents, smiling together under a big cartoon sun.

“What a bunch of losers!”

Lucifer scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Can you butt out of my song?!”

Alastor head-butted Lucifer, glaring up at him.

“Your song? I started this!”

Lucifer grabbed Alastor by the collar and lifted him clean off the ground.

“I'm singing it—I'll finish it!”

Alastor shouted, legs kicking as he argued midair.

Lucifer pulled him up to eye level and roared:

“OH, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF—!”

Just as Lucifer and Alastor were about to go at it, the front door swung open without warning, and a new sinner suddenly burst into the middle of their musical showdown.

She was short and plump, with pale lilac skin, rosy pink cheeks, and a stylish platinum-blonde bob straight out of the 1920s, accented with lighter streaks. Her flapper ensemble featured a maroon-pink dress, a black pearl necklace adorned with a cerise gemstone at the center, and a black headband topped with two feathers—shades of maroon speckled with yellow dots—held in place by a matching cerise gem.

With a dramatic spin, she jumped right into song:

“It’s me! Yes, it’s me!! I know you were all waiting for me!”

She twirled through the lobby, flinging her arms out with flair.

“I’m here! What a gas! Took a while, but I’m present at last!”

As she struck a final pose near the chandelier wreckage, she finished with a flourish:

“It’s me! It’s me! MIMZZZZYYYYY!”

She sang out her name like a jazz finale. Silence followed.

Everyone stared.

After a long pause, Lucifer tilted his head and asked bluntly:

"Who?"

Chapter Text

“Didn’t you just hear me? Why is everybody gawkin’?” Mimzy exclaimed, looking around at the group of people staring at her.

“Is it because I’m adorable?” She struck a cute pose, clearly pleased with herself, even if she was a bit of a peculiar adult.

“Mimzyyyyyyy!” Alastor greeted her with a tight-lipped smile, his voice tinged with noticeable tension. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled about her sudden appearance.

Mimzy flashed him a smile and strolled over to him.

“Alastooorr, sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve you been? Good? Good!”

She pinched his cheeks playfully, shaking his head with exaggerated affection before letting him go.

Alastor, though still smiling, rubbed his cheeks irritably, his frustration unmistakable on his face.

“Listen, I was in the neighborhood. I heard you were staying at this ritzy slob factory,” she said, looking around at the hotel’s shabby interior. She was clearly unimpressed by the place, but still intrigued.

“And I figured I’d stop by and say hi! For old times’ sake.”

“Of course, Mimzy…! Everyone is welcome here…” Alastor’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, his words betraying how much he actually didn’t want her here.

“Oh, how nice! So you two know each other?” She motioned between Alastor and Mimzy.

“Oh yeah, we go way back,” Mimzy replied, her voice filled with exaggerated nostalgia.

“I took him in during his early years of Hell. You should’ve seen him! He’s way different now from back then. I actually found him digging through trash, eating dead sinners off the ground. He was like a filthy raccoon.”

Charlie sucked in a breath, surprised by the story. She hadn’t realized how much Alastor had suffered in his early years—how alone and scared he must have been.

Alastor, clearly annoyed, quickly retorted,

“And now she’s running a club and lying about her real age.”

He glared at Mimzy, a jab at her vanity as she pretended to still be in her prime, looking for partners much younger than herself.

Mimzy shoved him lightly, adjusting her boobs as she did.

“Hey, watch it, small, dark, and creepy. I’m still in my prime!”

Her eyes then landed on Lucifer, and her expression shifted to surprise and irritation.

“Oh, oh my stars!” she gasped, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Is that Lucifer?”

“Move it!” She rushed over, shoving Sir Pentious out of her way.

He tumbled to the floor with a surprised grunt. Charlie shot Mimzy a sharp look, clearly displeased with her rude behavior.

“Move it! Pleased to meetcha, Your Highness.”

Mimzy greeted Lucifer, who, taken aback by the sudden attention, offered an awkward smile.

Mimzy leaned in to whisper to Alastor, “Alastor, you gotta warn a girl when she’s in mixed company.”

Alastor simply rolled his eyes and brushed her off.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” Lucifer managed, still unsure how to handle Mimzy.

“As much as I’d love to catch up, Charlie and I have a tour to continue.”

Alastor quickly tried to change the subject, eager to get away from Mimzy’s presence.

Lucifer, still completely oblivious, grabbed Charlie by the arms and pulled her slightly away from Alastor.

“I’m sure Charlie can handle showing me around,” he said, his tone casual.

Alastor stepped in front of them, gently nudging Charlie back between him and Mimzy.

“Nuh-uh, we started this hotel together, and we’ll show it off together. Right, Charlie?”

He added the last part in a pleading tone, his voice softening with a hint of hope. He was really hoping Charlie would let him continue the tour with her.

Charlie picked up on this immediately and smiled warmly at him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, nodding toward her dad.

“Oh, right! Hey, Dad, Alastor’s really been a great help around here. He should really join us for the tour!”

With her hand still resting on Alastor’s shoulder, Charlie glanced over at Mimzy, who was still standing nearby with Husk and the other kids.

“Why don’t you hang out with Husk for a while? We’ll be back before you know it!”

Charlie made eye contact with Husk, silently giving him the responsibility for the kids.Husk groaned in reply.

Charlie then led the way upstairs, with Lucifer and Alastor following behind. Mimzy was left with the others—still miffed, but clearly undeterred.

“So, where can a girl get a drink around here?”

Mimzy glanced around the room before strutting over to the bar, where Husk was busy serving drinks.

Husk, clearly not thrilled by Mimzy’s presence, let out a low groan of annoyance as he wiped down a glass. Mimzy slid into a seat at the bar, keeping her curious eyes on him.

“My, my, is that Husker? Alastor has you slinging hooch for him, I see.”

Husk crossed his arms, shooting her a withering glare as she kept talking.

Mimzy leaned over the bar with a playful grin, her eyes twinkling.

“Classic! How ya been, furball?”

“Good!” Husk grumbled, then added, “Until five minutes ago.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me. You might hurt my feelins.” Mimzy teased him, clearly enjoying the friction, while Husk walked away in irritation.

As Husk turned to grab a drink for her, Mimzy’s gaze drifted to Niffty, who was hunched down, searching for bugs that had scurried across the floor.

Mimzy approached Niffty, her voice dripping with curiosity. “Hey, Niffty, whatcha been up to, girlie?”

“Fighting bugs,” Niffty replied cheerfully, clearly unfazed.

Mimzy stared at her for a moment, a faint look of disgust crossing her face.

“And, uh, how’s that going for ya?”

Niffty glared at one of the bugs she spotted crawling across the floor. “They’re winning.” she muttered, her voice full of frustration.

Then, with a sudden, sadistic grin, she pulled out a large knife from her belt, her eyes gleaming with manic excitement. “But not for long.”

Mimzy, not wanting to get any further involved in Niffty’s bug battle, simply muttered under her breath, “Uh-huh…”

Just then, a glass slid across the bar counter toward her. She turned to find Husk standing there, looking unimpressed.

“Thanks, pussycat!” she grinned, taking a sip from the glass.

Husk didn’t bother with a smile.

“Oh, fuck you.” He muttered, turning on his heel and walking off.

Angel and Pentious moved in, taking a seat right next to Mimzy at the bar.

“So, uh... you and Alastor are, like, what? Friends? Caretaker?” Angel asked, his tone curious as he tried to figure out Mimzy’s relationship with the odd kid.

Mimzy shrugged, raising an eyebrow as she took another swig of her drink. “Well, that’s your word, not mine, but I think it fits.”

She gave Angel and Pentious a sideways glance, clearly noticing the skeptical looks they were exchanging.

“Why so surprised?” she asked, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

Angel gave her an incredulous look, still sipping his drink. “Well, you just don’t seem like the type, y’know?”

He leaned in a bit, lowering his voice. “And he’s been here a while but is still a big, creepy mystery. What’s his deal?”

“Well, you probably heard the stories. He just pops out of nowhere, making a splash quicker than anyone had ever seen.”

Mimzy began, leaning in with a dramatic flair as she shared the tale with the two kids beside her.

“At first, people just dismissed him. He was just another kid sinner, after all; no threat to them.”

A flashback of Alastor, small and dirty, ran through Hell's streets like any other child sinner. The other sinners, indifferent, barely spared him a glance as they went about their day.

“But soon… overlords started goin’ missing. And not just any overlords—

we’re talking heavy hitters.”

The scene shifted to a dark alley, where an unnamed Overlord found himself cornered by Alastor, who appeared more like a twisted child, eagerly playing with his favorite toy. The Overlord tried to escape, but it was too late.

Next, the scene switches to a female overlord, who seems to be Alastor's next target. One by one, the overlord demons vanished, leaving Alastor as the sole one over the rest.

“No one knew what happened to 'em… until these strange radio broadcasts started going out.”

Mimzy paused, as if savoring the fear in the air.

“All you could hear were screams, followed by a kid laughing in the background. The kid laughed and laughed, like he was playing with his toys, having fun with them.”

“Every time an overlord went missing, there’d be a new voice screaming—and more kids laughing in the broadcast.”

The flashback then shows a radio tower emitting neon green signal waves, spreading across all of Hell. The radio crackles to life, and screams and laughter echo from the static.

“That’s when Hell stumbled upon a surprising revelation: the frightening Radio Demon was actually a child sinner, Alastor.”

The scene shifts, showing a young Alastor rising through Hell, his powers growing with each step.

“Before long, Alastor rose up and became the first child overlord recognized by everyone in Pride.”

In the flashback, Hell's residents are in utter shock and awe. Kids and teens in the background cheer for Alastor, their excitement palpable. It’s a moment of pride, as they finally prove that they aren’t just helpless sinners; even a child could rise above the status quo.

“And anyone that would mess with him... Well, let's just say his broadcasts never lacked new voices.”

The final flashback takes a darker turn. Alastor, no longer the cute, cheerful child, now stands in a terrifying form. His usual jovial demeanor is gone, replaced by an air of menace. Shadow minions dance around him as his main shadow grows, stretching into a sinister grin that seems to swallow the entire room.

“That’s the story most people know, but underneath it all…”

Mimzy finished her tale with a spooky flourish, the atmosphere around her turning almost eerie.

She paused for a beat, then casually added,

“He’s a total sweetie. Just feed and clothe him, and he’ll be like a kitten! He’s like a feral cat—nothing a good smack won’t fix!”

As Mimzy wrapped up her story, Angel and Pentious were visibly spooked by Alastor’s dark history in Hell. But Mimzy didn’t seem bothered by their unease. However, when she mentioned smacking Alastor, both kids narrowed their eyes, beginning to realize just what kind of adult Mimzy really was.

“Cut it out with the stares. It’s been a while since he’s done any of that,” Mimzy said, assuming the kids were reacting to Alastor’s dark past.

She was completely unaware that they were glaring at her for even suggesting such treatment for Alastor.

Mimzy turned around, glass held high, searching the room.

“Can I get another one of these?”

Her eyes darted around the bar and the lobby, but to her annoyance, Husk was nowhere to be found.

“Oh, what the fuck!” she exclaimed, looking around in frustration, as if expecting someone to hear her.

Pentious and Angel continued to glare at her, though Angel seemed to be struggling with the urge to grab a nearby baseball bat and whack her.

Charlie was giving her dad a tour through one of the dimly lit hallways of the hotel. The hallways were relatively clean, save for a few abandoned Furbies scattered here and there. It seemed like Alastor had managed to spread his ever-growing Furbies collection all over the hotel, and the number just kept increasing. The residents kept stumbling across more of them in random spots, freaking out every time.

“So, once we have the proof that redemption is possible, this whole hotel will be full of demons wanting to check out into Heaven!” Charlie explained, her voice full of hope.

“We just need a little more time to prove it. The sharing circles haven’t been working as fast as I hoped—”

But just as she was getting into her explanation, Husk suddenly called out to Alastor from behind.

“Ey, Kid? Can I have a word...?” Husk leaned in and whispered, careful not to interrupt Charlie’s tour.

Alastor stopped in his tracks, his head twisting unnaturally, turning all the way around to face Husk before his body followed suit.

“What is it?” he asked, his tone a bit tense, clearly wondering why Husk needed to talk to him now.

“You and I both know Mimzy only shows up when she needs somethin'.”

Husk spoke low, knowing Alastor would get the reference. They both understood Mimzy and her usual game.

Husk gestured behind them with his thumbs, his voice taking on a darker tone.

“That bitch is trouble. Who knows what kind of demon she’s messed with to come running to you this time?”

Alastor, already on edge, fidgeted with his hand, absently messing with his cane as his frustration began to show. “I know. She’s always like this. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

But as he said this, his emotions were starting to surface—his usual control slipping.

“Are you sure? We both know that bitch just uses you to clean up her mess,” Husk pressed, his voice full of concern. “She always expects you to clean up after her.”

Husk had been watching Alastor closely. He may have owned his soul, but the kid was still younger, and that made Husk feel uneasy.

“I already know that.” Alastor repeated, his voice sharper now. He paused, his mind flashing back to moments with Mimzy. “I had to…”

Husk crossed his arms and shot Alastor a disapproving look.

“You’re the Radio Demon; why are you entertaining an adult like that? It makes you look pathetic!” His voice raised at the end of the sentence, frustration evident in his words.

Suddenly, the hallway began to tremble. Neon green magic seeped through the cracks in the hotel’s walls, while shadows flew around in a chaotic frenzy. Alastor was unleashing a massive wave of energy, his power crackling through the air.

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT!!” Alastor’s voice roared, magic surging around him with explosive force.

“I DO!!” He shouted even louder, his voice trembling with raw emotion.

“BUT MIMZY IS THE ONE WHO TOOK ME IN UNTIL I COULD STAND ON MY OWN!!”

A moment of silence hung in the air as Alastor’s sobs started to choke him. His tears mixed with the shadowy energy, creating an unsettling contrast.

“I WOULD HAVE DIED SEVERAL TIMES OVER IF NOT FOR HER. SO NOW, I HAVE TO PAY HER BACK!! EVEN IF IT MEANS CLEANING UP HER MESS!!”

Alastor’s sobs intensified, his magic now violently shaking the entire hotel. Shadows crawled along the walls, and his shadow minions scurried around, creating chaos wherever they went.

“Kid! Calm down! You’re going to destroy—” Husk’s attempt to reason with him was interrupted when suddenly, he felt a sharp pressure around his throat.

A collar, tightly gripped by Alastor’s unstable power, was digging into his skin.

“What the hell…?!” Husk gasped, struggling to breathe as Alastor’s magic continued to spiral out of control, messing with Husk’s contracts and choking him.

Meanwhile, everyone downstairs is hiding under a table to protect themselves from falling debris.

Niffty is sporting a neon green collar that seems to tighten around her neck; not that she minds; she actually enjoys being choked. Her face lit up with a manic grin and she was laughing uncontrollably.

“Ahhhhh!! What’sss happpenning??” Pentious screamed from underneath a table, his egg-bois huddled around him in fear.

Angel and Mimzy, tucked under a different table, glanced up at the ceiling and froze when they saw green glowing voodoo symbols floating around like malevolent spirits.

“Ah! Fuck! Alastor is having another tantrum!!” Mimzy shouted, ducking further for cover. “I always knew that kid was nothing but a feral cat!!”

Angel shot her a sharp glare, clearly annoyed, though he was too busy trying to shield himself from the debris raining down to respond.

Charlie and the others rushed toward Alastor and Husk, with Charlie leading the way. Her face was filled with clear panic, her eyes darting between Alastor and the chaos he was causing.

“What’s happening??!!” she yelled, but she couldn’t get any closer. Alastor was unleashing a wave of raw power that sent shockwaves through the air, pushing her back.

Despite the collar choking him, Husk managed to shout, “Alastor is having a meltdown; his powers are going out of control!!”

He gasped, trying to force the words out. “You’ve got to calm him down!!”

Charlie attempted to move forward again, but Alastor’s magic shoved her back with even more force. Just as she teetered, Vaggie was there to catch her before she hit the ground.

“Charlie! You okay?” Vaggie asked, her voice filled with concern.

“Yeah! I’m fine! But I can’t get close to him!” Charlie exclaimed, still in Vaggie’s arms. She looked up at her girlfriend, eyes full of worry. “We need to find a way to calm him down.”

Her gaze then fell on the Furbies scattered throughout the hallway. An idea sparked in her mind, and she looked at Vaggie and her dad with sudden realization.

“The Furbies! We can use the Furbies to calm him down! It’s his favorite toy!”

Without hesitation, Charlie and Vaggie scrambled to pick up the Furbies that had been abandoned in the hallway. Now, both were holding armfuls of the strange toys, hoping they might work some kind of magic on Alastor.

“Charlie, how are we going to get close to him? His power is pushing us away,” Vaggie said, her voice strained as the waves of energy continued to push them back.

Charlie, her arms full of Furbies, stood frozen for a moment.

“Ummm…” she muttered, still desperately thinking of a way to reach Alastor before another surge of magic hit them.

Charlie glanced over and realized it was her dad. He was using his magic to make the Furbies float in the air, their little bodies hovering around him like they were part of some bizarre performance. Lucifer casually strolled toward Alastor, completely unfazed by the wild magic swirling around the room.

When Lucifer reached him, he greeted Alastor with a warm smile, his voice full of nonchalance.

“Hey, buddy. What’s got you feeling down?”

Alastor paused, blinking, and then looked up, his tear-filled eyes catching sight of Lucifer surrounded by a cloud of floating Furbies.

“Alright, let’s see if you can remember the magic words!”

Lucifer declared with enthusiasm, as if putting on a show for a packed audience.

He twirled his cane with flair, golden magic swirling through the hallway in a dazzling display. It was a spectacle, almost like Lucifer was the ringmaster of a circus. Then, with a dramatic flourish, he spoke the magic words:

“Wap! Bam! Boom!”

A brilliant flash of golden light erupted in the air as he finished with an exaggerated cry—

“ALAKAZAM!!”

Suddenly, the Furbies sprang to life. They began dancing, singing, and even flying around the room, performing acrobatic flips and showing off adorable dance moves. It felt like a circus show, but with Furbies taking center stage.

Alastor, who had been sobbing uncontrollably just moments before, now watched, completely entranced by the circus-like performance unfolding before him. His tears dried up, and he was so captivated by the display that he didn’t even notice Charlie rushing toward him.

She reached him, wrapped her arms around him, and gently stroked his hair, whispering soft, comforting words in his ear.

Alastor, taken aback by Charlie’s warm and gentle kindness, felt his body relax. The surge of power subsided, and his magic returned to normal, the chaos around them dissipating.

As Alastor settled down, everything in the hotel slowly returned to its usual atmosphere. His shadow minions, no longer needed, faded away, disappearing to wherever they belonged.

Charlie knelt down to Alastor’s level, her voice soft and concerned. “Alastor, are you feeling okay now?”

She kept running her fingers gently through his hair, speaking to him in a soothing tone.

Alastor stayed quiet, not saying a word. He simply sniffled and hiccupped a bit, his eyes downcast as he avoided her gaze.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charlie asked again, her concern growing.

Alastor shook his head, silently telling her he’d rather not talk right now.

He sniffled once more, then suddenly made a gagging sound. Before Charlie could react, he threw up—right onto her shoes. The alcohol he had chugged earlier clearly wasn’t sitting well, and now he was feeling the effects.

Charlie, completely unconcerned about her shoes, pulled out a handkerchief and gently wiped his mouth clean. She was far more worried about his well-being than anything else.

Husk, who had just recovered from his own ordeal, glanced over and suggested, “How about I take him downstairs to get a glass of water? Maybe some food in his stomach?”

“Good idea,” Charlie replied. “He really should eat something to help soak up the alcohol.”

She gave Alastor a little nudge toward Husk.

“Just keep an eye on him, okay? And let’s avoid alcohol for now!”

Her tone was firm, making sure Husk understood the importance of being responsible this time.

Husk rolled his eyes but gave a small sigh, clearly used to Charlie’s protective nature. “Yeah, yeah…” He gently placed a hand on Alastor’s back and nudged him toward the stairs.

“Come on, kid. Let’s get you something to eat.”

With that, Husk and Alastor made their way down the stairs, leaving Charlie, Vaggie, and her dad behind.

Once they were gone, Lucifer looked at his daughter, clearly impressed.

“Wow, Charlie! I had no idea you were such a natural with kids!”

He snapped his fingers, and instantly, the floor and his daughter’s shoes were clean.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, Charlie glanced away, shrugging. “Not really… Just had a lot of practice these past few months…”

Vaggie, who had been standing nearby, smiled at Charlie, clearly proud of her.

“Don’t sell yourself short, hun. The way you handle Alastor is nothing short of amazing.”

Charlie smiled back at Vaggie, feeling grateful for the praise. Then, she turned to her dad and added,

“Dad, you’re amazing too. The way you put on that show… It’s like the ones you used to put on for me when I was a kid.”

She smiled warmly as she shared the memory, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over her.

Lucifer let out a soft sigh, reminiscing about the good old days when his little girl was just that—a little girl.

“Yeah…” He sighed, lost in thought.

“I’m surprised you knew what to do during Alastor’s meltdown. You handled it so well.” Charlie told her dad, admiration in her voice.

Lucifer laughed, a rich, warm sound. “Oh, please! This is nothing! Your meltdowns were way worse!!” He chuckled, clearly entertained by the memory.

“Remember that time you set an entire park on fire?”

He laughed again, the memory bringing a smile to his face.

“Daaaad!!!!”

Charlie couldn’t help but blush at the mention of that, especially with Vaggie standing right there.

Vaggie chuckled softly and smiled, happy to hear more about Charlie’s childhood.

She leaned closer to Charlie and whispered, “Sounds like you were a real handful back then.”

Chapter Text

The lobby was a disaster zone. Drinks had toppled, decorations had slipped off their hooks, and half the snack table looked like it had gone through a miniature apocalypse. The kids scrambled to pick up the chaos, arms full of overturned chairs and broken cups.

Meanwhile, Mimzy hadn’t lifted so much as a painted fingernail. She sprawled across a barstool, swinging one leg leisurely while sipping from a half-drained bottle she’d snatched without asking. The more the kids bustled, the more smugly relaxed she seemed, like the eye of a very judgmental storm.

The creak of footsteps down the stairs drew attention as Husk descended, Alastor in tow. The normally sharp-tongued Radio Demon was… quiet. Too quiet. His usual grin was absent, his eyes a little dull. Husk didn’t comment on it—he just guided the kid toward the party table like it was routine, pulling out a chair with the gruff care only a tired cat could manage.

“Sit,” Husk muttered, gesturing.

Niffty zipped to attention with a little salute at Husk’s glance, then darted around the table like a pink blur, scavenging for anything edible left untouched by the quake.

Husk went to fetch a glass of water, checking the bottles behind the bar as he did. That’s when Mimzy finally decided she was the center of the universe again.

“Husk! ’Bout time! I need a couple of refills, stat!” She shook her empty glass in his direction like a queen summoning her servant.

Husk’s tail bristled. “Can’t you see I’m busy right now?!” he snapped, ears folding back in irritation.

Mimzy rolled her eyes, clearly unfazed. “Busy? Please. You’re just babysitting. Kid’s throwing a fit, that’s all.” She tossed her hand like she was brushing away dust. “Leave him be—he’ll get over it.”

Her gaze slid to Alastor, narrowing into something sharp. “If he’s mouthing off, a good smack or two usually sorts it out.”

The words hung in the air like poison. And then she twisted the knife.

“Or maybe remind him he ought to be grateful someone actually took him in. Not everyone gets a roof over their head handed to them, y’know.”

Her voice cut across the table, deliberately pitched to land in Alastor’s ears.

The boy didn’t flinch, didn’t respond. Instead, he lowered his head and focused on the small plate Niffty had set before him, picking at it in silence.

“Here,” Husk grunted, sliding a glass of water to his side. His tone softened, just a fraction. “Eat somethin’. Keep it down, or you’ll just be pukin’ again.”

As Husk and Niffty tried to steady the boy, another corner of the room bristled with tension. Angel Dust was straining against Pentious’s arms, a baseball bat clutched tightly in his grip, his extra hands twitching with the urge to swing.

“Let me at her! One good crack on that bouffant and she’ll be spittin’ teeth!” Angel snarled, his voice rising.

Pentious hissed through gritted teeth, both arms wrapped tight around him. “No! Angel, don’t—don’t make a mess of things! This is not the time for a homicide!”

But his grip was slipping.

And Mimzy, oblivious or uncaring, poured herself another drink with a smirk.

Back on the tour, Vaggie was taking her turn, explaining how the hotel worked to redeem demons so they could make their way to Heaven—especially Angel Dust.

“And we’ve almost been able to find all of Angel Dust’s drug stashes... Almost,” she joked as she walked alongside Lucifer.

The two of them stepped out onto the balcony, leaning against the railings as they took in the view.

Charlie quickly picked up where Vaggie left off, eager to keep things moving. “So once that’s out of the way, it should be much smoother sailing.”

Lucifer, however, wasn’t paying much attention. His gaze wandered skyward, his tone distracted. “Well, that certainly is, uh… is—something.”

Charlie swallowed her nerves and turned to him. “So… what do you think?”

“About what?” Lucifer asked absently, finally looking at her.

“The hotel.”

“Oh, yes, yes… it does look much better now, doesn’t it?” He gave a vague answer, clearly dodging the real question.

His eyes landed on the railings, and he immediately seized on the chance to change the subject.

“Ya know, I think this railing needs work. Kids could lean over, or with one good push—whoopee, bye-bye!” He leaned halfway over the edge to demonstrate.

Charlie stared at him in disbelief. “What? No, no, the plan, Dad!”

Her voice rose in exasperation. “What do you think about using the hotel to help sinners?”

Lucifer hesitated, then sighed deeply. “Alright, look… I love that you want to see the best in people, but these sinners…”

He trailed off, despair flickering in his eyes. “They’re just the worst. I don’t know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven.”

Charlie’s expression tightened, bracing herself for what he would say next.

“Hoooo boy, Heaven…” Lucifer muttered, tugging at his collar. “It’s not as carefree as you think. Rules upon rules. And they’re not as open-minded as you’d hope.”

Behind her, Vaggie turned her head away, lips pressed thinly together.

“These are our people, Dad!” Charlie snapped, clenching her hands. “I have to try. Nothing will change if I don’t do something—our people will keep suffering from the exterminations!”

Her voice rose higher, her emotions surging. “My hotel has nothing but kids right now! Children! And they’re suffering from who knows what!”

She clenched her fists tighter, anger spilling through. “Why don’t you get that?! We need to help them!”

Lucifer’s face hardened. His tone flattened. “Our people…”

Then, suddenly, his temper snapped.

“—are awful!”

His voice thundered as he gestured out toward the city.

“They got free will, and look what they did with it! Everything’s terrible!”

His hands shook as he pointed back at the hotel.

“Look at the kids inside—already down here! Even early in life they’ve wasted my gift. If they landed here, then they got what’s coming to them!”

Charlie’s fury exploded. Her demon form burst forth, glowing and unstable. Lucifer yelped in shock, stumbling back.

“Dad! That’s crossing a line!” she shouted. “You don’t get to say that about them! You don’t know their lives, what they’ve been through, what they’ve had to do!”

Her form flickered brighter, her emotions fueling it.

“They’re rough because they have to be! It’s survival! But if you really get to know them, you’ll see there’s still good in them. Some of them are even really sweet kids—they just need a safe place to open up!”

Lucifer’s hands tightened on his top hat, his voice strained. “Charlie, I know you care. But I just don’t want you putting yourself on the line for people like—”

A thunderous crash cut him off. The hotel shook violently beneath their feet, sending all three staggering.

“Geez! What now?!” Vaggie shouted, gripping the railing.

Lucifer straightened, tone dry as ever. “Well… like that.”

Down below, dozens of loan shark demons swarmed the courtyard, brandishing guns, blades, and even a battering ram. They slammed it against the front doors, trying to force their way in.

The leader of the group spotted them on the balcony, his voice booming through the courtyard.

“Mimzy! We know you’re in there, you lousy bitch!”

Charlie’s blood ran cold. So much for the tour.

In the lobby, Mimzy suddenly realizes that the loan shark mafia has tracked her down. She can’t help but wince, feeling like she's already a goner.

“Oh, shit!” she exclaims, flopping to the ground and scrambling behind whatever cover she can find.

A portal flares open by Lucifer, and all three of them are yanked back into the lobby just as the loan shark mafia continues to pound on the front door like a horde of angry demons.

“¡¿Qué carajo?!” Vaggie screams, her voice high-pitched with disbelief as she whirls around. “What the hell is going on?!”

Charlie looks between them, wide-eyed and clueless. “What’s happening?”

“I… maaaaaaay have gotten myself into a bit of a mess with some loan sharks I, uh, might have borrowed fifty grand from,”

Mimzy admits sheepishly, avoiding eye contact with Charlie and Vaggie, who are glaring at her like they’re ready to fry her on the spot.

The hotel shakes again, and Mimzy ducks instinctively behind the bar counter, as if it’ll somehow protect her from what’s coming.

“You better come out!” The voice of the loan shark leader booms from outside, sounding like a pissed-off hurricane.

Mimzy peeks out from behind the bar and adds, “Oh, and I may have... stolen a car,” she winces, as if that’ll make it better, “and crashed it... into the loan shark’s girlfriend.”

Husk, standing nearby, narrows his eyes and crosses his arms, shooting her an infuriated glare, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Mimzy, still facing the wrath of everyone in the room, throws her hands up defensively.

“But that bitch totally had it coming!” she protests, but everyone isn’t buying it.

The glares from everyone in the vicinity are enough to make her feel like she's about to be roasted alive.

Before Charlie and Vaggie can give their piece, fireballs start raining down on the hotel from outside, slamming into the windows and walls with enough force to shake the building itself.

The windows shatter like cheap glass ornaments, and the floor trembles with every new explosion. More fireballs come hurtling in, crashing through the hotel’s defenses like they’re nothing.

Charlie and Vaggie scream in tandem, the sound almost deafening.

Niffty, her eyes widening in horror, can’t believe it when she sees the windows being demolished — especially after all that time she spent cleaning them.

“My windows!” Niffty shrieks in distress, her voice cracking as the destruction unfolds.

Angel Dust scrambles back to his seat after a fireball nearly takes his head off, his face a mix of panic and “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Pentious realizes what's happening while holding his baked cookies, slithering around with his egg-bois, desperately trying to keep up as fireballs continue to rain down.

“Ah! We’re under siege!” he yells, narrowly dodging another fireball. “Ah! Take cover!”

The chaos in the hotel escalates as everyone runs around, panicking and attempting to defend themselves. More fireballs crash down, sending debris flying. Charlie narrowly dodges one fireball that comes dangerously close to her.

Alastor and Niffty are nearly flattened by one, but just in time, Alastor scoops Niffty up and leaps out of the way, narrowly avoiding a fiery crash that would have taken them both out.

“Look out!” Vaggie shouts, her voice cutting through the chaos as she tries to warn the others.

Angel Dust is running frantically, trying to dodge the spreading flames in the lobby.

“What the fuck?!” he yells, his voice high-pitched as he stumbles over his own feet.

Niffty manages to slip out of Alastor’s grip, darting around the lobby as Lucifer remains eerily calm, blind to the chaos unraveling around him. The lobby is ablaze from the fireballs, flames rapidly spreading.

It turns out that the artwork plastered on the hotel walls, along with the plushies strewn across the floor, are all highly flammable.

Husk desperately tries to put out the fire near his bar, stomping on the flames in frustration while Mimzy hides behind the counter. Angel sprints for cover, and Pentious’s screams echo as fireballs shatter the windows. The lobby is now filled with terrified children scrambling for safety, some attempting to extinguish the fire themselves.

Meanwhile, Lucifer stands unfazed, smugly delivering one of his signature “I-told-you-so” lectures to Charlie, completely oblivious to the raging fire.

“Ya see, Charlie,” he said smugly, waving lazily at the inferno.

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You build something nice, you invite people in, you offer kindness—and what do they bring? Violence. Chaos. Every time.”

Charlie’s jaw clenched so hard her teeth ached.

“It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned you are,” Lucifer continued, eyes gleaming with superiority. “They’ll disappoint you every single time.”

He shakes his head, as if Charlie were the one who needed a lecture, and not the one who’s currently trying to save everyone’s lives.

Charlie’s patience is wearing thin, her fists clenching in frustration as she listens to her father ramble on, completely indifferent to the chaos around them.

“Niffty, get over here!” Pentious screams, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the way of the falling debris.

An explosion ripped through the ceiling, sending a massive chunk of debris straight toward them.

Screams erupted across the room. Alastor’s shadows lashed out, tentacles catching what rubble they could, but another blast followed immediately after, sending even more concrete crashing down.

He was spread too thin. Niffty and Pentious were seconds away from being crushed.

And then—light.

A shimmering golden barrier enveloped them in an instant. Debris bounced harmlessly off the dome, scattering to the sides without leaving a single scratch.

Every head in the room snapped toward the source.

Charlie stood tall, her demon form blazing, hands glowing with radiant power. Her chest rose and fell as she exhaled in relief, her eyes softening when she saw the kids were safe.

The sight of her like that left everyone stunned.

Her gaze swept across the ruined lobby—the flames, the smoke, the crumbling walls—and something inside her broke.

“Enough!!”

Her voice thundered as she crossed her arms into an X, golden magic surging between her hands. With a sharp motion, she unleashed it all at once.

A brilliant wave of light shot across the hotel. The flames vanished in an instant. Outside, the fireballs fizzled to nothing, leaving the mafia frozen in shock.

Silence followed. Eerie, heavy silence.

Charlie lowered her arms, her demon form fading as her glow dimmed. She breathed hard, her shoulders trembling slightly, but she didn’t look regretful.

She looked… determined.

Lucifer, for once, was speechless. His eyes widened, disbelief etched across his face. “Charlie… since when can you do that?”

He knew his daughter had always hesitated to use her powers, too gentle to lean on them. But this—this was a spell of unimaginable scale, thrown out like it was nothing.

Before Charlie could reply, more shouting erupted from outside. The sharks weren’t done. The pounding on the door resumed, heavier, angrier than before.

Vaggie raised her spear, stepping forward. “All of you, get back! I’ll handle this.”

But she didn’t get the chance.

Because before she could take a single step, the kids surged forward.

Weapons clutched in tiny hands, faces fierce with determination, they charged straight toward the door, battle cries echoing through the battered lobby.

“Wait! Stop!” Charlie shouted desperately, reaching out to them.

They didn’t listen.

From behind the counter, Mimzy poked her head out and, of course, had the last word.

“Oh, finally! Took ya people long enough!”

Alastor roars as he unleashes his demon form, his tentacle tendrils thrashing around like wild serpents. One of them crashes into a catapult, sending it flying across the yard, while another swings with deadly precision, taking out several mafia gangsters in one swift motion. The remaining gangsters freeze in terror, eyes wide as they witness the Radio Demon’s magic tearing through the air.

The other children, having a grand ol' time, don’t hesitate to dive into the fray, brutally attacking and massacring the surviving loan sharks. Angel Dust pulls out his Tommy guns, unleashing a rapid fire of bullets, sending mafia members into a bloody mess. Pentious whips out his ray gun, zapping every loan shark in sight with energy blasts that leave them twitching on the ground. Husk, ever the showman, throws cards and dice with expert precision, slicing through enemies and causing explosive bursts with every throw.

Niffty, her energy unstoppable, charges forward with her giant sewing needle, jamming it straight through a loan shark’s eye.

The kids even turned this chaos into a twisted game. Whoever could kill the most loan sharks and toss them into Alastor’s giant mouth would win. Alastor had magically transformed into a gargantuan version of himself, and he eagerly gobbled up every loan shark tossed his way.

Husk, with his ability to float a little, had the upper hand, casually dropping bodies into Alastor’s ever-hungry maw.

Charlie stood frozen, completely shocked by the children’s violent, sadistic tendencies. She had never imagined they could be so... ruthless. Lucifer, with a single, knowing nod, stood off to the side, watching the carnage unfold.

“Mhm, ya see? What’d I tell ya? Charlie, sinners—even the children—are violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There’s really no point in trying to save ‘em,” Lucifer said with a smug grin, almost like he was savoring his ‘I told you so’ moment.

Charlie, feeling the weight of it all, snapped back. “Dad, stop! They’re defending this hotel!”

She glanced over at the kids, grabbing mafia members by their fins and tossing them gleefully into Alastor’s monstrous mouth. It was chaotic, twisted, but they were doing it for her. They were loyal, even if their methods were a little... much.

“It may be a bit more sadistic than I hoped, but they’re doing it for me!” Charlie shouted, her voice cracking with frustration. “Alastor, a kid, has more faith in me than you do! And he doesn’t even trust adults, like me!!”

She wrapped her arms around herself, turning away from her father, her voice softer as she added,

“What does this say about my own father?”

Lucifer paused for a moment, his usual confidence faltering as he processed his daughter’s words. His smug demeanor wavered, a hint of regret creeping into his features. Maybe, just maybe, he had messed up more than he realized with Charlie.

Mimzy, standing next to Vaggie, saw the tension and couldn’t help herself. “Ooh, drama,” she whispered, grinning.

Vaggie shot Mimzy a death glare and, with a swift motion, shoved her down to the ground.

“Shut up,” Vaggie muttered, her voice low and dangerous.

Outside, the kids had finished their bloody massacre of the mafia. Alastor, feeling rather pleased with himself, shrank back down to his usual size, a smirk tugging at his lips as he surveyed the carnage. He’d taken down and devoured so many demons today—it was a job well done. The kids, all messy and covered in blood, were laughing and celebrating their victory, high off the thrill of the battle.

They made their way back inside, where Vaggie was already waiting at the entrance, hands on her hips, her expression unimpressed.

"Alright, you all had your fun. Why don’t you head inside and clean up a bit?" she said, her tone firm but with a hint of exasperation.

Alastor, staying outside for a moment longer, took a deep breath, savoring the satisfaction of the fight. "Ah, finally got to let off some steam!" he said, stretching his arms with a grin.

Mimzy peeked out from behind the corner of the building, ensuring the coast was clear, before making her way over to Alastor with a grin.

"Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo! As always," she cheered, giving a little clap. "Thanks for helping lil’ ol’ me outta a tough spot; you’re always such a pal!"

Mimzy leaped back in surprise as some debris from the nearby railroad fell with a loud crash.

"Oops! Heheheh... sorry about the mess," Mimzy said, her smirk practically glowing with mischief. "But I’m sure the lil’ bug can clean it up for ya."

Alastor shot her a sharp, annoyed look. "I cleaned up your mess," he said coldly, narrowing his eyes. "So I think you should go. Now."

Mimzy chuckled, thinking Alastor was just joking around. "Oh, pff, Alastor, you’re such a kidder, you! Haha, you’re so funny!" she said, waving it off with a dismissive laugh.

"I mean it. You brought danger to this place on purpose just so I’d clean up after you," Alastor snapped, his seriousness cutting through her flippancy. "I can’t have that here."

Mimzy leaned in, poking him in the chest with a finger. "But you love takin’ care of me!" she teased, not really taking him seriously. "It’s just cleaning up every now and then; what’s the big deal?"

Her grin widened as she jabbed her finger into his chest again. "Don’t forget who took ya in, kid. You owe me for gettin’ a roof over yer head."

Alastor’s frustration grew. His mama had taught him to appreciate those who care for him, to always remember the good things people do for him—but Mimzy?

She was still taking advantage of him, even after he’d moved out of her place. The thought of doing something about it simmered in his chest, and for a brief moment, he really wished he could kill her once and for all.

Just as Alastor’s anger was about to boil over, Charlie, who had been nearby, stepped between them. She turned her back to Alastor, keeping him out of Mimzy’s sight.

She glared at Mimzy, her voice icy. "Mimzy, unless you're looking for redemption, you need to leave."

Mimzy’s eyes widened in disbelief. "What?! Why are you getting in between me and the kid? He owes me!"

Charlie met her gaze with unshakable resolve.

"I won’t let you keep using Alastor like this. Sure, you might’ve taken care of him before, but now you’re just exploiting him for your own gain. That’s not something adults do."

Mimzy scoffed, rolling her eyes. "This is Hell, sweetheart; everyone does that."

Charlie crossed her arms, her voice even colder. "Well, this hotel doesn’t. Alastor is under my care now."

She leaned in, jabbing a finger at Mimzy. "He owes you nothing."

Mimzy’s smug grin faltered, and she huffed, realizing she wasn’t going to win this one.

“Fine! Who needs ya? Have fun with your little hotel. See if I care,” she sneered.

Mimzy shot them both the finger, her pride stung, before storming off in a huff, muttering insults under her breath as she walked away.

Once Mimzy stormed off, Charlie turned to Alastor, her voice soft and gentle. “Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Alastor shook his head, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. I just need a little time to think it over.”

Charlie offered him a warm smile, placing a hand on his shoulder. “If you need anything, just let me know, alright?”

Alastor nodded silently, his gaze lingering on the ground as he kept his thoughts to himself.

Charlie, sensing his need for space, nudged him gently toward the hotel. “Come on, let’s head inside.”

As they took a few steps, Charlie suddenly felt a small hand gripping hers. She looked down, surprised to see Alastor holding her hand, his fingers trembling slightly. He was mumbling something quietly, but she couldn’t catch the words. She leaned in closer, trying to make sense of his soft murmur.

“Thank you,” he whispered, the words barely audible, but they hit her like a wave of warmth.

Alastor quickly released her hand, avoiding her gaze as he hurried into the hotel, his pace quickening to escape the vulnerability he’d just shown.

Charlie stood frozen for a moment, her heart swelling with emotion. She hadn’t expected such a simple yet profound gesture from him. Her face lit up with a huge smile, and a few tears welled up in her eyes as she stood there, moved by the moment.

It was then that she noticed Lucifer, watching the whole thing from a distance. Their eyes locked for a brief second, and he sighed, turning away with a weary expression before heading back inside without a word.

Charlie’s smile faded for a moment, her emotions conflicted, but she shook it off and turned toward the hotel.

Lucifer retreated into the lobby, with Charlie following close behind.

“Dad… just... help me,” Charlie pleaded, her voice full of desperation.

With his back still turned to her, Lucifer let out a pained sigh. “I... I can't.”

“Why can't you?” Charlie’s confusion and frustration grew.

She couldn’t understand why her dad couldn’t help her reach her dreams.

“Charlie! You don’t understand. Heaven never listens.”

Lucifer quickly hurried to his daughter, gripping her shoulders tightly as he continued, his voice desperate.

“They didn’t listen to me. They won’t listen to you.”

“You don’t know that!” Charlie quickly retorted, trying to hold onto hope.

Lucifer then shouted, his eyes filled with tears, “I do!”

Tears brimming in his eyes, Lucifer began to share his feelings through song, his voice laced with sadness.

“You didn't know that when,” he begins to sing with a hint of sadness in his voice. “I tried this all before, my dreams were too hard to defend.”

“And in the end,”

He gestures at the hotel and tells Charlie that he’s given something like that a shot before, back when he still had his dreams. But then everything started to go wrong, and his dreams fell apart.

Now that he has just Charlie left. He's holding onto the last flicker of his hopes and dreams, and the idea of anything happening to her is just too much to handle. Especially when the threat comes from Heaven.

“I won't lose it all again. Now you're the only thing worth fighting for.”

As he sang, shadows of higher angels began to appear, encircling Lucifer with spears. He saw Charlie surrounded by spears that slowly began to close in on her. Horrified, Lucifer rushed forward to pull her away, shielding her from the threat.

“More than anything, more than anything.”

Lucifer’s voice was filled with raw emotion as he sang about his undying love for his daughter. He would always protect and cherish her, no matter the cost. His arms wrapped around Charlie in a heartfelt embrace as he sang:

“I'll shelter and adore you more than anything.”

Charlie, starting to understand her father on a deeper level, looked at him with honesty and love.

“Dad, I don’t need you to protect me from this.”

Lucifer, feeling the weight of her words, softened. His voice trembled as he responded, “I just don’t want you to be crushed by them like—like I was.”

His vulnerability hung in the air, and for the first time, Lucifer truly opened up to Charlie.

“Dad…” Charlie began to sing, her voice calm but filled with unspoken emotion, as she shared her own feelings.

“When I was young, I didn’t really know you at all.” She sang, “I always felt so small.”

A flashback played, showing a young Charlie discovering her dad in his workshop, looking down and gloomy. Her eyes brightened as she approached, and Lucifer gently lifted her onto his lap. He shared his magic with her, a soft smile on his face.

“But I heard your stories, and I was enthralled.”

Lucifer opened a small magic box, and with a wave of his hand, magical dust swirled out. A golden duck appeared, paddling around in a tiny pond.

“The tales about your lofty dreams, I listened breathlessly.”

Lucifer waved his hand again, and the little duck took flight, transforming into a breathtaking six-winged angel surrounded by a swirling galaxy of planets.

“Imagining it could be me.”

Young Charlie’s face lit up with wonder as she watched, completely captivated by the magic her father created.

“So in the end, it's the view I had of you, that showed me dreams can be worth fighting for”

The flashback shifted, showing Lilith, a shadowy figure, taking Charlie away. Charlie looked back at her dad with a sad expression, and Lucifer met her gaze with a shared sadness. The flashback ended, and they were back in the present.

“More than anything, more than anything.”

Charlie sang with a new sense of purpose, her voice carrying the weight of her emotions. She looked at her dad and continued,

“I need to save my people more than anything.”

She gestured to the hotel’s occupants who were watching, listening intently to the performance.

Lucifer, now seeing his daughter fully grown and ready to chase her dreams, couldn't help but smile with pride.

“I’ve been dyin’ to find out who you are,” he sang, his voice filled with hope and admiration.

“I’ve been waiting, wanting the same thing,” Charlie sang back, her heart full, beaming at her father, grateful for their newfound connection.

“Looks like the apple doesn’t fall far,” Lucifer sang as he walked closer to his daughter.

Charlie, smiling, stepped toward him as well, singing, “Took you a while.”

“I’ve missed that smile,” Lucifer sang with a soft smile, seeing the happiness on her face.

It had been so long since he’d seen that smile, and it filled him with warmth.

“All that I’m hopin’, now that my eyes are open...” The two Morningstars moved closer, their hands meeting as they sang together.

“Is that we can start again.”

They had found a connection, a bond that was finally beginning to heal. They sang of the hope that, in the future, they could be even closer, stronger, and stay together as a family.

“Not be pulled apart again,” they sang in perfect harmony. “Cause in the end, you are part of who I am.”

Lucifer spread all six of his wings wide, creating a shimmering portal to his dimension. Charlie wrapped her arms around him, holding on tight as they soared upward together, the world beneath them fading away.

“I’ll support your dream, whatever lies in store.” Lucifer sang, his voice resolute, full of unconditional love.

Charlie’s voice joined his, full of gratitude.

“And who could ask for more?”

They flew around the golden dimension, their voices soaring, their hearts united. Together, they sang about everything they’d been through and the strength of their bond, knowing that no matter what came next, they were always there for each other.

“I’m grateful you’re my father/daughter more than anything.”

They sang in sweet harmony, sharing their love in a way that only they could understand.

“More than anything,”

As the final notes of their song echoed, they made their way back to the hotel, wrapped in each other's arms, hearts full, knowing that the future was theirs to face together.

Pentious couldn’t help but feel a bit emotional after witnessing the sweet, tender moment between Lucifer and Charlie. “Aww, that was ssssweet,” he said, his voice thick with feeling.

Lucifer gently pulled away from the hug and looked at his daughter, his voice serious but filled with care. “Okay, I can get you the meeting, but once you’re in Heaven, I won’t be able to go with you.”

He paused, his gaze softening. “Will you be okay?”

Charlie took his hands in hers and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl!” Lucifer’s face lit up with pride, and he sighed contentedly. “Good luck, kiddo.”

With that, Lucifer’s form shimmered and dissolved into a violet-red mist, vanishing from the lobby.

Vaggie approached Charlie, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “This next part is going to be scary. You ready?”

Charlie met her gaze, her expression resolute. “I’m ready,” she said, giving Vaggie a tight hug. “Because you’ll be with me.”

“In spirit, right?” Vaggie asked, a bit awkwardly.

Charlie’s smile was full of determination, and she nodded. “In Heaven.”

Vaggie, clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea, responded with a half-hearted, “Yay…”

She hugged Charlie, but if the younger girl could have seen her face, she would have noticed Vaggie’s expression scrunch up at the thought of heading to Heaven.

Chapter Text

Vaggie and Charlie are hanging out in their hotel room. Charlie is down on her knees, packing clothes into a suitcase, while Vaggie sits on the bed, looking a bit worried. It's because Charlie is packing way too much—she's got a closet-sized suitcase, a guitar case, two huge suitcases, and a small handbag all piled up.

“Okay, I have my warm-weather clothes and my cold-weather clothes. I’ve got a light jacket, a flak jacket, and a rain jacket—wait, does it even rain in Heaven?”

Charlie's voice is full of excitement as she lists everything they might need for their trip, deep in thought about what else she might be forgetting.

“Charlie, you're only going to Heaven for half a day... maybe a day at most,” Vaggie says, trying to reason with her. “We won't be there long. There's no need to pack so much.”

Charlie stands up and paces around the room, determination in her step.

“Vaggie, we’re only going to Heaven for one day. And I just want to be prepared! This is our last chance to convince Heaven that a soul can be redeemed,” she says, her tone unwavering.

She looks more determined than ever, hoping the angels will hear her out and help with her redemption project.

"Yeah, I wish I could come, sweetie, but I have that…thing," Vaggie tells her nervously, not looking Charlie in the eye.

Charlie, eyebrows raised, asks, “What thing?”

Vaggie falters, her words tripping over each other.

"The thing with the... thing. Ugh, god, I’m so bad at this." She tries to pull off the lie, but she knows it’s not going to work—she can’t bring herself to lie to Charlie.

Charlie softly takes Vaggie's hand.

“Vaggie, you're my partner. I need you there with me,” she says, her eyes pleading, filled with hope.

Vaggie meets her gaze, and in that moment, she realizes she can't say no.

She sighs, sounding a little defeated. “Fine.”

“Yes!!” Charlie cheers, her face lighting up with joy. She throws her arms around Vaggie in a warm hug and plants a sweet kiss on her cheek.

The Hazbin Hotel was enjoying one of those rare, golden lulls where nobody was actively blowing something up.

Angel lounged across the parlor couch, his long legs draped dramatically as he mashed buttons on his controller, fully immersed in his video game. Husk was at his usual perch behind the bar, nursing a drink and pretending he didn’t care. Niffty zipped like a pink blur through the lobby, humming cheerfully as she scrubbed every last speck of dust out of existence.

Alastor, oddly quiet, had claimed the opposite end of the parlor. Instead of his usual radio theatrics, he had a book balanced in one hand and a little pile of Furbies nestled against his side like plush bodyguards. His shadow minions flickered lazily in the background, clearly under instructions not to cause trouble.

For once, the hotel felt… peaceful.

That lasted all of thirty seconds.

The front doors creaked open, and in walked Charlie and Vaggie, the latter weighed down with two heavy suitcases. Charlie looked bright as ever, ready to greet her hotel like a stage performer greeting a crowd—

—and then the wall exploded.

The blast sent Angel cartwheeling off the couch, his controller clattering to the floor.

“Argh! What the fuck is with that wall?!” he shrieked, pointing accusingly at the gaping hole now smoking in the lobby.

From the haze of red smoke, a figure strutted through—grinning, fierce, and holding a bomb like it was a party favor.

“WHAT UP, HOES!”

Charlie screamed. Husk swore. Niffty dropped her mop.

Angel, however, froze mid-sputter, his expression flipping from fury to pure joy.

“Holy shit! Cherri Bomb?!” His voice went up an octave as he scrambled to his feet. “Long time no see, girlfriend!”

“Angie, ya bitch!” Cherri Bomb shouted back, her smile wicked and wide. “Haven’t heard from ya in forever! Word on the street says you’re on hiatus, so I thought I’d check up on ya. It’s been fucking ages!”

Before Angel could even move, Charlie popped up behind her with her trademark sunshine grin.

“Ohmigosh! Hi—”

“Here, hold this,” Cherri interrupted, shoving the live bomb into Charlie’s hands like it was a cupcake.

Charlie’s expression broke into sheer panic. “A-AH! OH MY GOD!” She fumbled with it like it was molten lava, tossing it from palm to palm as she shrieked.

Vaggie, deadpan, snatched it out of her grip and hurled it through the already-destroyed wall. The bomb detonated far away with a muffled boom.

Charlie stood frozen, hair frizzed from panic, while Angel smoothed himself back into his chair.

“Yeah, I’m on a break,” he explained casually, gesturing toward Charlie. “Princess here convinced Velvette to give me time off.”

Cherri turned, clocked Charlie properly for the first time, and her grin grew even wider.

“Oh-ho! So you’re the one behind that new fashion line plastered with your face?” she teased. “Whole city’s going wild for it. Don’t tell me you did it for Angie.”

“Oh, no need for thanks,” Charlie chirped, brushing it off. “I need Angel here at the hotel more anyway.”

Cherri rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed, then spun back to Angel. “Anyway, since you’re free, let’s celebrate! There’s this new club in the city—strictly kids only, no adults allowed. Crazy security, top Overlord sponsors. It’s gonna be a blast!”

Angel perked up, but before he could answer, Charlie all but flung herself between them.

“That’s a great idea!” she beamed, practically glowing. “Hi, by the way! I’m Charlie—” She jabbed a finger at the smoking rubble behind them. “—and that was my wall you just blew up!”

Cherri arched a brow, amused. “Yeah, figures.”

Charlie, undeterred, clasped her hands together. “Anyway, it’s so nice to finally meet one of Angel’s friends! He never brings anyone around!”

Cherri smirked. “Wonder why.”

Angel smirked right back.

“Yeah, me too,” Charlie deadpanned, before spinning on her heel. “But you know what? Everyone’s been working so hard lately.”

She swept an arm toward the bar, where Husk was pretending not to care, Niffty shook like a human maraca, and Alastor calmly summoned his shadows to patch the latest hole in the wall.

Charlie pointed to them all with a smile far too cheerful to be trusted.

“Angel and his friend are treating you guys to a night of fun! Cherri’s in charge!”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Cherri blurted, her jaw dropping. “I’m just here for Ang—”

But Charlie had already slipped a wad of cash into her hand.

Cherri blinked, stared at the bills, then grinned like Christmas had come early. “Never mind. LET’S GO, KIDS!”

“Make sure they have the best time tonight!” Charlie said, her voice sing-song. Then, turning sharply, she pointed at Husk. “And Husk! You’re responsible too.”

Husk slumped so low in his chair it was a wonder he didn’t fall off. “Kill me now…”

Before anyone could protest, the entire room lit up with divine brilliance. A portal to Heaven bloomed in the center of the lounge, shimmering with holy light.

Charlie clapped her hands like she’d been waiting all day. “Perfect timing!”

She hugged Vaggie, shoved her straight through, then paused only to wave wildly back at her friends. “Bye, guys! Be good for me, okay?”

And with that, the Princess of Hell disappeared into Heaven’s portal.

Which was exactly the moment Sir Pentious chose to stroll by, sipping his drink.

He spotted Cherri Bomb and promptly spat his liquor all over the floor.

“WHAT?! My arch-nemesis! Have you finally come to face your doom?”

He threw his arms wide in a dramatic pose—only to immediately trip over one of Charlie’s discarded suitcases and crash headfirst into the carpet.

Cherri stared, unimpressed. “…Still a dork.”

Dusting himself off, Pentious overheard her earlier mutter about “going out with Angel and babysitting the kids.” His entire face turned crimson.

“You—you and me… going out? For fun?” he stammered, voice cracking. “I—I didn’t think that would ever happen—what do I do? What do I wear?!” He began pacing frantically, arms flailing.

The others snickered. Husk rolled his eyes. Niffty giggled behind her hands.

Cherri popped a stick of gum into her mouth and ruffled his hair like he was a little brother. “Relax. Nobody cares what you wear. Just be you.”

Then she whirled to the room, hands on her hips, grin blazing.

“Alright, kids, get your asses ready—we’re heading out in ten!”

Chapter Text

Charlie and Vaggie stood in front of the golden gates of Heaven, wide-eyed as the shimmering portal behind them dissolved into nothing. The air itself felt different here—lighter, almost humming with warmth. Instead of Hell’s oppressive red gloom, Heaven’s sky stretched out in a sweep of soft blue brushed with golden light, the whole place glowing as if the sun itself had been sculpted just for this realm.

“Vaggie, look at this place!” Charlie burst out, practically bouncing on her heels. “It’s so clean! Isn’t that amazing?”

Her voice carried a kind of wonder most people reserved for miracles. And really, for Charlie, maybe this was one. The Princess of Hell had grown up under skies choked with smoke, with bloodstains for cobblestones and filth clinging to every corner. Even the fanciest spots in Hell never quite managed to escape the grit.

But here—here everything gleamed like it had been polished by the stars themselves.

“Yup. Super cool. Heaven. Wow.” Vaggie’s tone was bone-dry, her arms crossed as she trailed after her girlfriend.

Charlie barely noticed the sarcasm, too caught up in her awe as the two of them stepped up to the front desk. Without warning, an angel popped up from behind it.

St. Peter.

He was pale-skinned and slim, with short, curly blonde hair that framed his glowing turquoise eyes—pupil-less and unnervingly bright. His eyebrows, sharp and royal blue, gave him a look halfway between angelic secretary and theater kid. A light-blue vest over a pale yellow shirt, skirt, and pastel-red bowtie completed the outfit.

“Hiya! Welcome to Heaven!” Peter chirped, pulling out an absurdly oversized book with a grin. “Can I get your name, please?”

“Oh! Uh, uh—Charlie Morningstar!” Charlie blurted, nervous excitement bubbling out of her.

Peter’s fingers danced through the tome, flipping pages with a hum. “Charlie Morningstar, huh?”

He squinted, mumbling as he searched.

“Not seeing you on my list… that’s… odd.” He glanced up, frowning faintly.

Charlie chuckled nervously. “Uhh, maybe try… Lucifer? Morning… Star?”

The moment the name left her lips, Peter froze. His expression dropped like a stone. “Oh, fuck.”

Charlie gave a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, hoooo. Yikes, am I right?”

Peter floated down, now hovering at eye level, his tone wobbling between polite host and sheer panic. “Are you sure you’re in the right place? Because, um… I think you might be a little lost.”

Vaggie groaned, crossing her arms tighter. “Oh, here we go…”

“No, no!” Charlie waved her hands frantically. “We’re here for a meeting, promise!”

Before Peter could protest further, two figures descended from above, light shimmering off their wings as they touched down gracefully.

The first stepped forward, her presence commanding without a single word. “St. Peter. We’ll take it from here.”

Her gaze landed on Charlie, voice calm and regal. “Greetings, daughter of the Morningstar. I am Sera, high seraphim of Heaven. You are truly gifted to be here.”

Sera was breathtaking—tall and slender, her cedar-brown skin dusted with white freckles that gleamed faintly under Heaven’s light. Her silver ombre curls spilled past her hips, and six vast wings fanned out behind her in majestic arcs. Twin halos, one spiked and adorned with blue gems, hovered above her head. Her periwinkle-gray gown glittered with diamond patterns, the fabric catching the light like starlight woven into silk.

The second angel bounded forward, all smiles and warmth.

“Hi! I’m Emily, the other seraphim—but you can call me Em! Emmy, E, whatever works!” She beamed, her messy hair swaying with her every movement.

Emily’s silver-sheen skin shimmered, her six white wings fluttering with restless energy. A light periwinkle gown, patterned with darker triangles and tied with a sash at the waist, gave her a far more approachable air than Sera’s regal dress. A tiara-like halo floated above her head, glinting as brightly as her smile.

Charlie lit up. “It’s—it’s so nice to meet you both!”

Meanwhile, Peter sighed dramatically, dragging himself skyward again. With a theatrical groan, he began to sing as the golden gates creaked open.

The view beyond was nothing short of paradise. Pristine gardens stretched endlessly, crystal towers gleamed, and every inch looked like a dream painted into reality. The air smelled faintly of lilies and sunshine.

“Dearly beloved, it is my pleasure to say unto thee…” Peter sang, arms sweeping wide. “Welcome to Heaven, oh oh!”

“Where the virtuous reside, 24/7, oh oh!” he continues, his arms dramatically sweeping through the air.

Peter belts out how virtuous souls get to live here in Heaven—a place free of worries, burglaries, or strife. It’s a perfect afterlife.

“People are happy that they died, ‘cause here we got no worries, no burglaries, no strife! It’s the perfect afterlife!” he sings, practically skipping with joy. “Welcome to Heaven, oh oh!”

“Check out our sick decor! The spirits leaven, oh!” St. Peter, still singing, flies past floating advertisements of Heaven.

“Please keep your brimstone off the floor,” Peter swept the loose brimstone pebbles that came loose from Charlie’s shoe soles.

“We’ve got the best and brightest, the politest of the lot!” he belts out, pointing at various immaculate areas of Heaven.

He goes flying around in Heaven, showing the two new guests that everything is perfect, clean, and pristine—nothing out of place. Everyone is smart, polite, and living in harmony.

And of course, the most important part—

“And ev-ery-one is hooooot!~”

With a twirl, Peter landed gracefully in the arms of a stunning angel, who smiled like a toothpaste commercial came to life. Around them, more angels posed like models in a divine photoshoot.

Charlie stared in awe. Vaggie rolled her eyes..

“Gosh, I’m so pleased to show some outsiders around.” Emily chimes in, her voice sweet as she takes Charlie’s hand with a friendly gesture.

“After you see our realm, you’ll never want to go back down!”

Vaggie’s eyes flicked to their linked hands, a flash of irritation sparking before she masked it with a scowl.

Sera stepped closer, placing a steady hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Of course, this visit is only temporary. I’m sorry—you cannot stay.”

Above them, Emily and Peter clasped hands, their voices blending as they soared upward:

“’Cause every single day in Heaven is a happy day! Welcome to Heaven!”

They descended with a flourish, joined by a chorus of angels who struck dramatic poses as the song came to its grand finale.

Peter touched down with a puff, panting slightly but grinning from ear to ear. “Whew! That was fun!”

Emily’s tour wasn’t exactly subtle. She practically strutted down the streets of Heaven with Charlie and Vaggie in tow, the trio drawing curious stares from passersby. It was the kind of sight that didn’t happen in the divine realms—Lucifer’s daughter walking openly under golden skies.

Adam almost choked on his soda.

“HOLY FUCKING SHITBALLS—” he bellowed, sloshing half his drink down his shirt as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Am I seeing who I think I’m seeing?”

Beside him, Lute froze mid-step, her jaw tightening as her gaze snapped toward the three figures. Her hand curled into a fist.

“What the hell is she doing here?” she hissed, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “And how in God’s name did she even get up here?”

Adam was already stomping forward, fists clenched. “Who cares? I’m handling this shit right now—”

But Lute threw out an arm, blocking his path.

“Wait,” she snapped, glaring up at him. Her tone carried no room for argument. “You want to start a fight on the promenade? In front of everyone?”

Adam scoffed, his face twisting into a sneer. “Better than waiting for the fucking extermination!”

The last word was too loud, too reckless. Lute’s eyes widened, and before Adam could so much as blink, she grabbed him by the collar, yanking him down to her level.

“SHHHH!” she hissed, her voice a blade at his throat. “Sir, what was the Seraphim’s one rule?”

Adam groaned, throwing his head back like a scolded child.

“Uuugh, ‘No one but the exorcists can know about the exterminations.’ Yeah, yeah, I know! Fine.”

He waved her off and took a noisy, exaggerated slurp of his soda, as if that somehow restored his dignity.

But Lute didn’t let go. Her grip tightened.

“Don’t fucking shush me, bitch,” Adam growled, his patience thinning.

Before their bickering could escalate further, a new voice sliced through the air—calm, cool, and carrying an authority neither of them could ignore.

“You should listen to your lieutenant, Adam.”

Both of them stiffened.

The temperature in the street seemed to plummet as a flare of radiant light unfurled behind them. With a single, controlled beat of her wings, Sera appeared—her presence so commanding that even Adam’s bravado faltered.

“Fff—fuck!” Adam yelped, whipping around to face her. His drink wobbled precariously in his grip. “Sera! You can’t just sneak up on a guy like that!”

“Your Highness,” Lute said quickly, bowing low, though her voice betrayed an undercurrent of strain. “Forgive me, but… what is the hell-spawn doing here?”

Sera’s gaze was icy steel. “Because you failed to control the demons’ unrest.”

She folded her arms, her wings shifting with a quiet rustle. “And now Lucifer himself is involved, paving the way for his daughter to demand an audience.”

Her eyes drifted toward the window, narrowing with something that almost sounded like regret.

“I never would have agreed to your little ‘yearly activities’ if I had known it would lead to trouble walking through Heaven’s gates.”

She turned back, and the weight of her focus pinned Adam where he stood. “The only reason I allowed it was to keep Heaven safe.”

Adam gave a lazy shrug, feigning nonchalance even under her scrutiny. “What do you want from me? I’m just one guy.”

Sera stepped forward, the distance between them closing like a trap. Her gaze never wavered, and when she spoke, her voice had all the weight of divine law.

“I want you to do whatever you must to ensure this does not get worse.”

Her eyes narrowed, sharp as blades. “Handle it.”

She leaned in slightly, her presence pressing down on him like gravity itself. “Are we clear?”

Adam slurped his drink loudly, refusing to drop his façade of indifference. “Yeah,” he muttered around the straw, his tone lazy, almost mocking. “Got it.”

The hotel room door clicked shut, and Vaggie all but collapsed beneath the mountain of bags in her arms. She dumped them onto the floor with a groan, muttering under her breath about “never shopping with Emily again.”

Meanwhile, Charlie was a burst of sunlight, bouncing on the bed with starry-eyed wonder.

“Okay, I love Heaven! Vaggie, did you see the ice cream shop? They had sprinkles made of rainbows!” she squealed, sprawling out dramatically across the covers.

Vaggie, worn and unimpressed, sank onto the edge of the bed. “Those are just rainbow sprinkles, Charlie.”

But Charlie’s enthusiasm was unstoppable. She sat up, practically glowing.

“Emily’s going to take me to a zoo where all the animals are actually soft! You coming?”

Her eyes shimmered like a child’s, the image of petting a fluffy animal already spinning in her head.

Vaggie let herself flop backward onto the mattress, covering her face with one hand. “Uh, I need a break. But hug a koala for me.”

Charlie gasped, hands clasping together in delight. “O. M. G. Can you imagine an actual koala?!”

And with that, she bounded out of the room, a trail of sunshine in her wake, leaving Vaggie with blessed silence.

At least for three seconds.

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

Vaggie groaned. “Oh, for fu—”

She pushed herself up, dragging her feet toward the door. The moment she opened it, Adam shoved past her like an unwanted storm, his presence loud, cocky, and suffocating.

“Hey there, Vag-asaurus!” he announced, grin wide and sharp.

Vaggie’s patience snapped in an instant. “Charlie will be back soon. You need to get out. Now.”

But Adam didn’t leave. He strolled further in, as if the room belonged to him, while Lute remained in the doorway like a shadow.

“I’m not looking for Blondie, babe,” Adam said, voice casual but his gaze cutting like glass. “I’m here for you.”

Vaggie crossed her arms, unimpressed but wary. “Why?”

Adam leaned against the wall, smugness dripping from every word.

“Maybe ‘cause you left the band. Tried for a solo career… or maybe more of a duet.” His eyes glimmered knowingly, taunting.

Vaggie scoffed, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But he didn’t buy it. He stepped closer, his grin twisting into something more dangerous. “Do you really think I wouldn’t recognize one of my top girls just ‘cause you’re out of uniform?”

The words hit like ice water down her spine. Vaggie froze, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of their shared past pressed down on her.

“You were on the front lines,” Adam continued, savoring her discomfort. “I wouldn’t forget a bad bitch like you. That’s why I named you after the best thing ever.”

Vaggie’s stomach turned.

Flashback:

Heaven’s light cracked open the sky, spilling down in waves as exorcists dove like hawks, wings stretched wide. Steel clashed, blood spattered, screams tangled in the chaos. The air reeked of smoke and sulfur.

One figure—sharp, deadly—drove her spear through a demon’s chest. She tore her helmet free, sweat-slick hair clinging short around her face. Vaggie’s younger self, eyes cold and unyielding.

“Vag-gie.”

Adam’s mocking tone echoed like a brand seared into her memory.

Back in the present, Vaggie’s voice cracked like a whip. “Actually, it’s pronounced Vaggie.”

Adam only tilted his head, amused. “Hmm… nah.” His grin widened, shark-like.

“Anyway—you sure fucked up, didn’t you?”

His words dripped with venom, and he relished every flicker of discomfort that crossed her face.

Flashback again:

The chaotic noise of the Extermination fills the air as Exorcists methodically slaughter demons. A sinner child, wide-eyed with terror, runs for his life, weaving through the bloodied streets. His frantic footsteps echo in the alleyways, but no matter how fast he runs, the relentless pursuit of Vaggie, an Exorcist now, closes in.

The child turns a corner and slams into a dead end. Panicked, he looks over his shoulder, his breath quickening as Vaggie approaches, spear in hand.

He drops to his knees, eyes welling with tears, ready to face his end.

But Vaggie stops. She freezes, staring at the child, his tear-streaked face haunting her. For a moment, time seems to slow as she hesitates, her grip on her spear wavering.

Is this really what I’ve become? She thinks, the weight of her actions crashing down on her.

She breathes out shakily and whispers, “Go, run. Now.”

The child looks up at her in confusion, but he doesn’t wait. He scrambles to his feet, sprinting away from her without a second thought.

Just as he escapes, Vaggie feels a cold shadow behind her. She turns just in time to see Lute, her superior, standing with a cruel smirk.

In an instant, Vaggie’s spear drops from her hand as Lute’s dagger flashes. The blade drives into her eye with agonizing precision. Vaggie screams, the excruciating pain radiating through her skull. Her eye is torn from her face, and before she can react, Lute stabs it again.

“Sinful filth like you has NO place in Heaven,” Lute sneers, her voice dripping with disgust.

Vaggie’s body goes limp as Lute begins to rip her wings off. The agony is unbearable, but Vaggie barely holds on. Half-conscious, blood pours from her wounds, her breath shallow.

Through the haze of pain, she sees Adam’s shadowy silhouette looming before her.

Lute tosses Vaggie’s discarded wings aside with contempt, and she watches as Adam and Lute leave, her halo glinting in their wake. Then, her world goes black.

Flashback shifts:

She stumbled through a filthy alley, her body half-dead. The wings that once carried her? Gone. The uniform that once defined her? Stripped away, stuffed into a trash can, worthless as she now was. She clutched at her side, every step shaky, her one eye haunted with ghosts she could never unsee.

Her knees gave way, and she collapsed beside a rusted dumpster, her bloodied hand sliding down its cold surface.

And then—light.

A small voice broke through the silence. Gentle. Curious. Unafraid.

Vaggie blinked blearily up, and there she was. Charlie.

Younger, softer, determined despite Hell's cruelty. She crouched beside Vaggie, eyes wide not with fear, but with concern. With kindness.

Wordlessly, Charlie pulled out a roll of bandages. Her small hands trembled, but she pressed on, carefully wrapping the bloody wound where Vaggie’s eye had been.

Vaggie flinched, but didn’t pull away. She couldn’t. Something in that touch—gentle, human, real—broke through the fog of agony.

Charlie’s smile bloomed, fragile but radiant in the alley’s shadows. She placed a hand on Vaggie’s shoulder, grounding her, steadying her.

And for the first time since she’d fallen, since her world had been ripped apart, Vaggie felt something other than pain.

She felt hope.

Present Day:

Adam leaned back, posture casual, grin anything but. His golden eyes flicked lazily between Vaggie and Lute, drinking in the tension like fine wine.

“To think someone as worthless as you,” he drawled, pointing a finger at Vaggie, “actually landed Lilith’s little hottie. ‘Grats on that, I guess.”

The mocking lilt in his voice cut sharper than any blade.

Off to the side, Lute’s jaw tightened. Her glare burned holes into the sight of Vaggie and Charlie together, as though merely existing side by side was an abomination.

“Their love is vile and blasphemous,” she hissed, her voice thick with venom. The words hung in the air like poison.

Adam’s chuckle rumbled low in his throat, his smirk stretching wider. “Hot as fuck, though.”

Then his tone shifted—low, cutting, dangerous. His smirk turned knife-edged.

“But I wonder…” he leaned forward just enough to watch her flinch, “…what your little princess would think if she found out you’re actually one of us, hmmm?”

Vaggie’s breath stuttered in her chest. Her mind flooded with panic, images of Charlie’s smile, Charlie’s trust, Charlie’s love—and how quickly all of it could shatter. Her stomach twisted, icy fear sinking its claws in deep.

“What do you want?” she bit out, her voice low, colder than she intended, her anger and dread bleeding through every syllable.

Adam leaned back again, spreading his arms with the self-satisfaction of someone who already owned the room.

His smirk was infuriatingly calm.

“Simple. You work for me again. And at the hearing, you help me shut this kindergarten snowflake bullshit down for good.”

He said it like an afterthought, like asking for a cup of coffee. But his words were deliberate.

Deadly.

Vaggie’s eye narrowed, fire blazing through her fear.

“Never!” she spat, the word ripping free like a battle cry.

Adam didn’t blink. He didn’t snarl. He didn’t so much as twitch. Instead, he leaned forward, elbows resting casually on his knees. His voice dropped low, mocking, every syllable a dagger meant to carve her open.

“Oh, yeah. Totally cool.” His grin sharpened. “Guess I’ll just tell little Miss Butterflies and Rainbows that she’s been fucking someone who’s killed—”

He let the silence drag, savoring her stillness, her clenched fists, her trembling breath.

“—thousands of her people.”

The words dropped like a guillotine.

Vaggie’s throat burned with a growl, animalistic and raw. The sound betrayed more than rage—it betrayed fear. Shame. The jagged wound she had fought to bury.

Adam straightened smoothly, brushing imaginary dust from his shoulder, smug as ever. “I’m sure your relationship will be fine.”

He flashed one last wicked grin, then turned on his heel. His boots echoed against the floor as he strode out, Lute following with one final glare of disdain, her shadow trailing him like a loyal hound.

And then—silence.

Vaggie didn’t move. She couldn’t. Her body locked in place as though the weight of his words pinned her there. Her fists trembled, her nails biting into her palms. Her chest felt like it was caving in.

Fear coiled deep in her stomach, a cold, merciless thing—but it was the heartbreak that stole her breath.

Charlie…

Her mind raced, spiraling, drowning in the weight of Adam’s threat.

How could she protect her? How could she keep Charlie from ever knowing the truth?

And even worse— What would happen to their love if she couldn’t?

The Heavenly Court was nothing like Charlie had imagined.

Charlie and Vaggie's table sat flat on the polished floor of the chamber, while rows upon rows of angelic spectators perched high above, built into the ivory walls like living statues. Their collective gaze pressed down from every direction, heavy with judgment.

At the very top, where the light pooled brightest, sat Sera and Emily. Sera's expression was unreadable, while Emily's brimmed with curiosity.

The doors swung open.

Adam strolled in as though he owned the place, shoulders squared, a grin plastered across his face. With effortless grace, he took to the air and alighted next to Lute, who was already watching Vaggie with predatory focus.

Charlie groaned, dropping her head to the table. “Oh no, not him again…”

“Hey, baby!” Adam called out cheerfully, waving at her as if this were a casual meet-up instead of an important trial.

“I saw you went to my manager. Low blow, Karen.” He jerked his thumb toward Sera with a cocky smirk.

The courtroom fell silent.

Sera rose with an elegance that commanded attention. Her voice carried effortlessly, firm and resounding.

“We are gathered here today to determine whether a soul in Hell may be redeemed into the Heavenly Realm… through this 'Hazbin Hotel.’”

Her gaze flicked to Charlie, followed by a small nod. “Princess Morningstar.”

Charlie shot upright, fumbling with her flashcards, her hands trembling slightly. “Thank you, Seraphim.”

She cleared her throat, forcing her brightest smile. “Webster’s dictionary defines redemption as—”

“Objection!” Adam barked, raising a finger in mock authority. “Lame and unoriginal!”

Sera closed her eyes briefly, exhaling slowly. “Sustained. No further dictionary references.” Her cool stare fixed on Charlie, a silent warning.

Charlie’s smile faltered. She shuffled through the stack of cards—every single one crammed with dictionary quotes—and sighed in defeat. Setting them aside, she placed both hands flat on the table and straightened her back.

“Angels of the Heavenly Court,” she began, her voice stronger this time, “as the High Seraphim said, I am here to make my case that a soul in Hell can indeed be redeemed.”

Her eyes swept across the chamber. “I began this program because I wanted a peaceful alternative to the overpopulation crisis in Hell. I believe redemption can work.”

Emily leaned forward, intrigued. “A peaceful alternative?”

Charlie lit up and was about to speak—until Adam opened his mouth.

“You got zero proof this bullshit works!” he barked, his voice cutting through the chamber like a whip crack, severing Charlie’s momentum before she could continue.

He wasn’t about to let this prissy princess reveal the existence of the exterminations in this ridiculous charade.

Charlie’s glare snapped toward him. “We do have proof. One of our patrons is making incredible progress.”

Adam raised a brow. “Oh yeah? Who?”

“Angel Dust,” Charlie said firmly, letting the name resonate.

Adam blinked. “…Who the fuck is that?”

He snorted, waving dismissively. “Sounds like a stripper name. But hey, sure, baby—if he’s anything like the rest of Hell’s dumpster fire, then wow, Heaven material right there.”

He blew a long, obnoxious raspberry.

Charlie’s fists clenched, her lips parting with fire. “Well, if you know so much, Adam… what does it actually take to get into Heaven?”

The room stilled.

Adam’s grin twitched.

“…Uh.” He scratched the back of his neck. “…Well…”

Murmurs stirred. Wings shifted.

Sera tilted her head, her voice smooth as glass. “Is there a problem, Adam?”

“Gimme a sec!” he snapped, conjuring a glowing slip of paper. He scribbled furiously before flicking it across the chamber.

It landed in Vaggie’s hands.

She read aloud, her tone flat. “Act selfless… don’t steal… stick it to the man…”

Her fist slammed onto the table with a sharp crack. “Are you fucking serious?!”

Adam smirked, his smugness restored. “Uh, yeah. Worked for me, didn’t it?”

He looked to Sera, his laugh carrying an awkward edge. “Right, boss?”

Sera’s gaze lingered, cool and unreadable. “…He was the first human soul in Heaven.”

The statement carried weight, but even she sounded faintly dubious.

Charlie seized the moment, her voice ringing with conviction. “Well, I bet Angel is doing all of those things right now!”

Adam leaned back in his seat, grinning. “Then let’s fucking see it, bruh.”

He snapped his fingers with theatrical flair.

The air shimmered, and a glowing orb of light unfurled in the center of the courtroom. It hovered, casting its radiance across the chamber. All eyes turned toward it as the surface rippled into motion.

Charlie lifted her chin, gesturing proudly. “Your Honor, may I present Exhibit A.”

The orb flickered—then sharpened—revealing Angel Dust in Hell, his every move about to become evidence for or against redemption.

Chapter Text

Forever Below 21 wasn’t just a club—it was the club. A neon-drenched kingdom where kids and teens ruled supreme, no grown-ups allowed. The place had everything.

The main floor throbbed with a classic club vibe—bass-heavy music, glowing drinks that skirted the edge of legal, and strobe lights bright enough to burn holes in your vision. Off to the side sprawled a massive arcade, cabinets blinking and chiming like a technicolor carnival.

For the younger crowd, there was a PG-13 zone—foam pits, VR headsets, glitter soda fountains. Pure chaos bottled and poured straight on tap.

And tucked away at the edges? Private rooms for the older kids, where things got a little more… adult. But not too much. Consent ruled, enforced by staff with an iron fist wrapped in glowstick bracelets.

The real hook? Every bartender, DJ, and floor manager was under twenty-one. No creepy managers. No washed-up thirty-somethings trying to look cool. Just kids running the show—running their world.

Outside, Hellhound bouncers prowled the perimeter, hulking and terrifying, eyes glowing like embers. They weren’t just muscle—they were guardians. No nosy parents. No predators. No Overlords. Nothing touched this place.

This was sacred ground. A neon fortress for the under-21 crowd, where the night belonged to them and them alone.

Inside, the air was alive with bass, arcade chimes, and laughter. The Hazbin crew had claimed a corner of the bar, soaking in the chaos.

“Woo! Isn’t this place the fucking best?!” Cherri Bomb hollered, arms stretched wide like she was crowning herself queen of the night.

Husk swirled his glass, lips quirking into a smirk. “Can’t lie. Not the worst joint I’ve been dragged into.”

Niffty zipped past with a broom, sweeping furiously. “I’m cleaning! Ugh, sticky floors, gross cups—this place is a germ nightmare!”

Pentious sniffed, tugging at his hat with disdain. “It’s a club, Niffty. Grime is the décor.”

Her head snapped up, eye wide. “Oh! I thought the hotel just looked weird tonight!”

She blinked once, then dove back into her manic sweeping.

Pentious groaned, then, gathering what little courage he had, extended a cup toward Cherri.

“Cherri, I—uh—brought you a drink.”

She cocked a brow, smirking. “Didn’t you swear we were mortal enemies? Besides—” she eyed the glass “—that’s juice.”

Pentious froze, mortified. “Wh-what?! No— I’ll fix this! One moment!”

He spun on his heel toward the bar like his life depended on it.

He spun toward the unimpressed teen bartender. “Barkeep! Your strongest, most expensive shot!”

The teen slid a glass across the counter like he’d done this a hundred times already.

Pentious reached for it, but Cherri swooped in, snatching it up and downing it in one gulp.

“Nope. Not letting you get wasted. Somebody here’s gotta have a brain.”

Angel snorted. “Gotta say, this place beats expectations. Don’t see spots like this every day.”

Cherri grinned. “Right?! Heard the owner won over two Overlords just to keep it exclusive. Now it’s ours. No adults, no exceptions.”

Just then, Alastor materialized out of the shadows right beside them. Husk nearly jumped off his stool while Pentious almost dropped his remaining drink.

“Goodness gracious,” Alastor hummed, his voice syrupy-smooth as he brushed off his coat, “children these days have no manners.”

Cherri barked out a laugh. “What, too famous for your own good?”

Alastor’s grin didn’t falter, but his fingers drummed a steady rhythm against the bar, tick-tick-tick.

“Infamy,” he said lightly, “does come with its inconveniences.

Angel looked up from where he'd been eyeing the dance floor. “Better you than me, Radio Boy! Speaking of which—”

He turned to Cherri. “I'm hitting the floor. You coming?”

Cherri shrugged. “Sure. Might as well work up a sweat before we hit round two.”

They melted into the neon crowd, lost in the thrum of bass. Angel was just finding his rhythm when a voice cut through the music.

“Angel?! That you?!”

Angel froze. He turned, and his eyes widened.

“Petey?!”

Petey, a bird sinner with green feathers, is grinning at him. He’s dressed in a hoodie and track pants, a laid-back air about him. He was once Angel’s drug dealer before Angel found someone else. The two haven’t crossed paths in a while, but it seems tonight, fate had them in the same club.

“Holy shit, Angel! Long time no see!” Petey clapped him on the shoulder. “How’ve you been?”

Angel chuckled. “Same old, same old. New crash pad, not much else.”

“Nice! I scored a new place too,” Petey said, puffing up with pride. “Comes with a pre-owned meth lab.”

Petey said in a way completely unfazed by the fact that he’s diving deeper into making drugs.

Petey pulls out a few pills from his pocket, flashing them in front of Angel. “Wanna try a sample? I’ll hook you up for free, just like old times.”

For the first time, Angel hesitates, eyeing the pills with uncertainty.

Husk, now standing beside Cherri, watches the interaction from a distance. He lets out a heavy sigh. “Oh, boy…”

Cherri snapped her head toward him, raising a brow. “What? You judging Angel’s life choices now?

Husk glances at her, clearly not impressed. “I ain't the one trying to get into Heaven. If he wants to fuck up all his progress, then that's on him.”

He exhaled, ears drooping slightly. “I just thought he was better than that.”

Cherri rolled her eye and shrugged. “It’s his life. If he wants ‘em, he’ll take ‘em. If not, he won’t.”

On the dance floor, Angel stands still, still staring at the pills, lost in thought.

His chest rose and fell in a heavy sigh before he muttered, “I uh… I’m good. Don’t need to go too wild tonight.

He pushes the pills back toward Petey, shaking his head. “Let’s just have a chill night, yeah?”

Petey blinked, then smirked like nothing had changed. “Your loss. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Angel felt the weight slide off his shoulders as he smiled back, softer this time.

“Will do. Nice seein’ ya, Pete.” He gave a little wave, casual as ever.

“Great to see you too, Ang!” Petey shot back, grin broad and unbothered. “Let’s catch up more next time!”

“You got it.” Angel winked, finger-gunning at him with a mischievous spark that felt more like him again.

With that, Petey melted into the crowd, vanishing deeper into the neon haze

Angel lingered for a beat before turning back. Cherri and Husk were waiting, both wearing small smiles, the kind that said ‘we saw that, and we’re proud.’

“Wow, Ang!” Cherri teased, brows arching. “Never thought I’d see the day you said no to drugs. Havin’ an off night?”

Angel scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “Guess I’m just not feelin’ too wild, ya know?”

Husk gave a quiet nod, but there was a flicker of relief in his eyes that he didn’t bother hiding.

Cherri’s smirk softened, the relief hitting her too—though she’d never admit it out loud. She’d seen what drugs had done to him before, how they chewed him up inside and out. Watching him make the call himself… maybe the hotel really was working.

“Since we’re skipping the pills,” Cherri said lightly, slipping her arm through his, “how about we wreck our livers instead? Drinks on me.”

Angel paused just long enough to draw out the suspense, then flashed his signature grin. “Fuck it! No drugs don’t mean no booze!”

Cherri laughed and shoved him playfully as they made a beeline for the bar, neon lights chasing their laughter.

Behind them, Husk sighed into his drink, muttering under his breath, “Baby steps… baby steps…” before following along.

Back at the Heavenly Court, Charlie shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Her eyes are locked on the orb as the events unfold. Despite Angel turning down the drugs, he’s still getting pretty wasted on booze.

It seems Cherri might not be the ideal babysitter for the kids after all.

“Heavenly people, what more do you need to see?” Adam smirks, leaning forward, feeling confident.

“The kid chose a night of debauchery. That's not a soul worthy of being in Heaven!”

He’s practically gloating, convinced he’s winning over the court with his argument.

However, his self-satisfaction is short-lived. As he surveys the room, he catches whispers among the angels. Their murmurs grow louder, and he notices some glancing at Sera with questioning looks, as if they’re hoping for her to provide the answers.

A tense, uneasy energy fills the air, and Adam's confidence starts to waver.

“What's going on?!” Emily’s voice rings out, cutting through the room, filled with alarm.

“Why are there so many children in Hell?! The numbers are unimaginable!”

Emily flies down toward the orb, her wings fluttering in agitation. She waves at the glowing sphere and adds, “Even Charlie’s patron is just a child! How could this have happened?”

Her question lingers in the air, and it’s clear now that the court has just witnessed a disturbing number of young souls trapped in Hell.

Charlie, a bit thrown off, frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about? Children are fairly common in Hell.”

She waves her hand toward the orb.

“That club? That’s just the surface. There are countless others. In some cases…” her expression hardened, “we’ve even had toddlers down there.”

The courtroom erupted. Voices clashed, angels arguing with each other, their tones breaking with horror and disbelief. Some cast accusing stares toward Sera, others turned away from the orb as though the sight alone burned them.

Emily zipped back to her seat, her eyes narrowed to sharp slits as she locked them onto Sera.

“Sera,” she demanded, her voice cutting with authority, “why are there so many children in Hell?

Sera, her usual composure cracking, feels the weight of the situation slipping from her control. She slams her hand down onto the podium and shouts,

“Order in the court! Order in the court! We will discuss this in a civilized manner!”

Her voice trembles slightly, and the room quiets, though the tension is still thick.

The angels slowly find their spots again, settling into a tense silence. Emily slides back into her seat beside Sera, eyes still fixed on her.

Once the courtroom calms down, Sera clears her throat, attempting to regain control of the proceedings.

“Princess Morningstar,” she begins, her voice colder now, “it seems your patron hasn’t demonstrated any qualities that would earn them a place in Heaven. If you don’t have any more evidence, we will have to end this hearing.”

The threat hangs in the air, heavy with the pressure to stop the hearing before anything more can be revealed. Sera is clearly trying to avoid any more uncomfortable truths coming to light, especially about the disturbing number of young souls in Hell.

“Fuck yeah!” Adam grins at Charlie, flipping her the double finger with both hands.

“I knew it! Sinners in Hell are nothing but garbage. Even the kids—nothing but little monsters who brought this on themselves!”

His sneer dripped with venom, every word soaked in contempt.

Charlie’s eyes snapped wide with fury. She slammed her fist against the table, the crack echoing through the chamber. Her horns burst forward, her hair whipping around her like wildfire as she snarled,

“WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!”

Vaggie, seated beside Charlie, glares at Adam with such hate it could scorch the air between them.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” Emily spat, her voice like a blade.

She shot to her feet, wings flaring in outrage. “How could you say such a thing?! How could you call children monsters?!”

The atmosphere in the courtroom shifted, heavy with outrage. Angels exchanged sharp glances, whispers cutting through the chamber. More than a few turned their frosty, accusing stares on Adam. His words had struck a raw nerve, and now the weight of judgment pressed down on him from every corner.

Feeling the heat, Adam quickly shifts the conversation. He gives the orb a casual wave, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Don’t believe me? Then keep watching the brat.” His grin widened as he leaned back in his chair, smug as ever. “You’ll see exactly what kind of monster he really is.

Charlie rose to her feet, fists trembling but voice clear and fierce.

“Angel is a good kid! He’s just misguided and needs help to be set on the right path. He’ll make good decisions!”

Her voice rings out with the strength of her conviction, defending Angel in front of the court.

Adam laughs bitterly, shaking his head.

“You think you’re coddling some sweet little child. But you’re blind, Princess. What you’re holding onto is a monster hiding in plain sight. Tell me—how else does a kid end up in Hell?

Charlie glares at him, her voice unwavering.

“If that’s the case, then let’s keep watching. Angel will make good decisions.”

The murmurs in the courtroom grow louder as the angels discuss among themselves, clearly intrigued by the situation unfolding. The idea of children being trapped in Hell is too much to ignore.

The tension in the air was sharp enough to cut.

Emily, who has been watching the exchange closely, nods in agreement with the court.

“I agree. Let’s keep an eye on things and see how the situation in Hell unfolds.”

The entire court turns its attention to Sera, their eyes waiting for her to make a decision. The pressure is palpable, and Sera knows she has little choice but to give in.

She let out a long, weary sigh, her face carved from stone.

“…Very well. The court will allow it.”

The orb flickers and shines brighter, continuing to reveal Angel’s actions in Hell. The images on the orb become clearer, showing Angel as he navigates his world in Hell, with all its temptations and struggles.

Chapter Text

At the club in Hell, Cherri Bomb was weaving through the crowd with a tray loaded with shots and drinks. She made her way over to the table where Angel Dust, Husk, and Niffty were lounging, enjoying their drinks and chatting. The table was a mountain of empty shot glasses, indicating the crew's dedication to a good time.

“Round 10, motherfuckers! Heels are coming off!” Cherri announced, grinning wildly as she set down the new round of shots.

Angel grabbed his immediately, eyes lighting up.

“Ho ho yeah! Keep 'em comin'!” He slammed it back and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “This is what I'm talkin' about!”

Husk lifted his glass with a rare smile. “Not bad for Hell's finest establishment,” he said dryly, though his relaxed posture showed he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Two drinks remained on Cherri's tray—vibrant, low-alcohol cocktails served in tall glasses and decked out with colorful toppings. She picked them up with care and headed over to another nearby table.

There, Alastor and Sir Pentious sat with a few younger sinners, either around their age or slightly younger. The booth was cozy, a horseshoe-shaped seating arrangement that almost completely enclosed the table. The group was digging into a variety of snacks while chatting away with each other.

Some of the younger sinners were animatedly swapping stories, their voices overlapping with excitement.

“—and then she said 'that's not how you hold a pitchfork!'” one giggled.

“No way! Did you hear about—” another chimed in.

When Cherri arrived, she set the two drinks down in front of Alastor and Pentious with a smirk.

“Here ya' go. Low-alcohol cocktails for the little ones,” she said, winking. “Make sure you only take drinks from me, not anyone else.”

Alastor rolled his eyes, unimpressed by her overprotective tone. But Cherri just laughed. She knew he was enjoying his time at the club—if he wasn't, she'd probably be flying across the city by now.

Pentious, looking a little more anxious, cleared his throat.

“Cherri, do you… um… want to sit here with us?” he asked, awkward but hopeful.

Cherri smirked, not missing a beat. “No thanks, I'm good. Not interested in hanging out at the kiddie table.”

She shot him down, already turning to head back to the other table.

Pentious looked down, deflated. His hood drooped slightly as his mood sank.

“Oh…” he murmured, barely audible.

Back at the main table, Niffty was stretching her arm across the surface to grab her shot glass. She was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol, her movements growing more erratic by the second.

“Everything's spinny!” she slurred, finally managing to clutch the glass.

But just as she was about to take a sip, Angel swooped in, snatching it from her hands and holding it high above his head.

“Ha, I think you're done, tiny.” Angel grinned, handing the glass over to Husk.

Niffty jumped up, her hands grabbing onto Angel in frantic panic. She shook him, shouting, “No! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

“Oh, come on, bitch! She can handle a little more!” Cherri called out as she approached.

Angel looked at Cherri and then back at Niffty, his tone serious.

“She's like 10 pounds soaking wet and—”

He glanced down. Niffty had vanished.

“Oh shit, where'd she go?” He started scanning the room, searching for the little tipsy maid.

Niffty, meanwhile, was at another table, oblivious to the chaos she was causing. She was stuffing other people's drinks into a sack while ignoring the annoyed jock teens seated there.

“Hey! Fuck!” one of the guys yelled, frustrated.

Niffty just kept shoving drinks into her sack, muttering to herself as she wiped the table down with a cloth.

“Dirty, dirty! Make it CLEAN!” she mumbled.

Angel walked over, exasperated. “Damn it, Niffty!”

He turned to the upset patrons and tried to smooth things over, flashing a charming smile. He pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and threw it on the table.

“Sorry, fellas, here. The next one's on me.”

The patrons immediately started brawling over the pile of cash.

Angel sighed, rolling his eyes, and glanced back to where Niffty had been. But she was nowhere to be seen.

After wandering around the club, Angel finally spotted her rummaging through a supply closet.

“Chlorine…!” she said, inspecting a bottle. “Bleach…!”

Seeing her, Angel called over to Cherri, who was nearby.

“Cherri, grab Niffty for me!”

Without hesitation, Cherri scooped Niffty up and lifted her effortlessly. Angel hurried over to them, and Cherri passed Niffty into his arms.

“Niff, you can't take those! GOD, why are you being such a mess?!” Angel shouted, now holding her. He was starting to wear out from chasing her through the crowded club.

“I'm... the mess?” Niffty's eye suddenly filled with tears.

She then sobbed uncontrollably in his arms, her tears flowing freely.

Cherri, visibly freaked out by Niffty's meltdown, slowly backed away from the scene.

Angel, feeling panic rising in his own chest, desperately tried to calm Niffty down. She was squirming in his arms, making it hard for him to keep his balance.

“Oh, oh shit! Hey, hey, hey, calm down,” he said, trying to soothe her. “You ain't a mess, it's fine...! Shh…”

“Hey, you wanna play with the kitty?” Angel asked softly, hoping to distract her.

Niffty, still sniffling, gave a little nod. “Yeah…”

Angel smiled softly as he placed Niffty on Husk's head.

Niffty started to giggle, happily playing with Husk's ears and wings as if it was the most fun thing she'd done all night.

“The fuck is this?” Husk growled, annoyed, while Niffty continued climbing all over him.

Angel shrugged casually, grinning. “She's wasted; just go with it.”

“Really?” Husk grumbled, his voice full of irritation. “Ugh, fuck all of this…”

A little while later, Sir Pentious slunk through the crowd toward Cherri Bomb, making his way without drawing much attention. He shifted on his feet anxiously before approaching her.

“Cherri, would you like to go somewhere with me?” he asked, voice laced with nerves. “Somewhere... more private?”

Cherri raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“Ooh, getting bold now, snake boy? Where we talkin'? If it means going back to the kiddie table, then I'll pass, thanks!”

Pentious nervously fiddled with his hands, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“N-no, nothing like that! I meant... Do you think you might want to accompany me to the Memorial Room?”

Cherri paused mid-sip of her drink, her teasing expression immediately shifting to concern.

“Oh shit... did someone you know fall?” Her voice dropped to a gentler tone.

Pentious gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod, unable to meet her eyes.

Cherri's expression softened completely. She set down her drink and touched his arm gently.

“Hey... alright, let's go. I'm with you on this one.”

Just as they were about to leave, Angel's voice called out with a curious edge. “Yo, where ya' guys sneakin' off to? The party's just gettin' started!”

Cherri glanced over her shoulder at Angel, her usual playfulness replaced by seriousness.

“Pentious needs to go to the Memorial Room. I'm going with him.”

Angel's expression changed immediately—his body went stiff, his eyes widening in realization.

“Wait... you lost someone?” he asked Pentious, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Pentious nodded slowly, barely audible. “A friend. She was... she was very young.”

Angel's face fell, and he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, fuck... I'm sorry, Pen.”

He straightened up with determination. “I'm comin' with ya'. Nobody should have to do that alone.”

Cherri and Pentious exchanged a glance, then shrugged in unison. Without another word, the three of them headed toward the back of the club, the mood shifting from carefree to something more solemn.

At the back of the club, they came to a door adorned with intricate engravings, standing solemn and unassuming. Nearby, a flower stand sold delicate blossoms. Cherri, Pentious, and Angel each took a flower before entering, the weight of the moment beginning to settle on them.

Inside, stairs led downward. The room below was vast and quiet, the air heavy with history. The trio descended together, flowers in hand, silence growing with each step.

When they reached the bottom, they entered a large, open space. In the center stood a massive gravestone with a plaque reading: “Here we remember the fallen ones.”

Surrounding the stone was a garden of origami flowers—sinners' creative tribute to their lost loved ones, since Hell lacked the vibrant blooms of the mortal world. The air was thick with grief.

Candles were scattered throughout, their soft light flickering against the shadows, carefully placed away from the delicate paper flowers.

Photos, drawings, and keepsakes—small toys, mementos, and handmade souvenirs—memorialized those lost in the exterminations.

A bulletin board nearby was covered with letters and messages written by those still here, words of remembrance and love for the fallen.

The room felt suffused with sadness, grief hanging like a veil. The trio paused to take it all in.

This memorial was where people came to pay their respects to their double-dead loved ones—souls lost during the exterminations. It didn't matter if the deceased was an adult or a child; this was a place for anyone who wished to grieve. It was just one of many spaces in Pride where individuals could remember those they'd lost.

But here, at this particular club, the memorial was mainly dedicated to the children who perished, and the loving parents who sacrificed everything to save them.

Cherri, Angel, and Pentious approached the gravestone and found Alastor already there. He stood motionless before the memorial, silent, with paper flowers scattered all around him.

It was clear he had placed them there himself. The three approached quietly, giving him a subtle nod of acknowledgment as they passed, not wanting to disturb his moment.

Pentious carefully set his flowers down in front of the gravestone, and Angel and Cherri followed suit, each placing their flowers with gentle reverence. They remained silent, giving Pentious space to grieve.

After a few moments, Angel glanced at Pentious and took a deep breath. “So… do ya' want to talk about it…?”

Pentious paused for a long moment, as if weighing whether he was ready to share. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than usual.

“Her name was Amy. She came down here not too long ago.”

He took a breath, trying to steady himself.

“Her parents passed away when she was very young. Her uncle took her in... but he didn't really take care of her. She had to steal just to get food. And then…”

Pentious's voice cracked slightly, but he pressed on.

“She accidentally killed her uncle. He wouldn't stop touching her… He wouldn't leave her alone. She died from the injuries he caused.”

Pentious looked down at the gravestone, his eyes shadowed with grief. “She was only eight years old.”

“FUCK!” Angel's shout rang out, frustration and anger unmistakable. He ran his fingers through his hair, pacing for a moment.

“It's like more and more younger kids are ending up in Hell! And that was self-defense! Ya' know?!”

Cherri, standing beside him, could barely contain her own anger.

“Fuck Heaven!” she spat, seething with fury.

She put her hands on her hips, glaring.

“Can you believe that fucked-up place actually turned away such an innocent kid who was just trying to survive?”

Angel and Pentious both nodded in agreement, their expressions full of shared resentment.

In the Heavenly Courtroom, Charlie sat frozen, tears streaming down her face as she watched the events unfold on the orb. Her hand was pressed tightly over her mouth, struggling to hold back her sobs. The weight of what she was witnessing felt overwhelming.

She had no idea so many children had lost their lives during the exterminations—so many innocent, young souls. It broke her heart to see the little ones suffer, especially knowing that some of them ended up in Hell simply for stealing to survive or for defending themselves.

There was nothing fair about this.

Vaggie, sitting beside Charlie, looked like she might throw up. She felt disgusted with herself. Being part of the exterminations had never made her feel more repulsed. Every year, countless lives were lost, and the pain of the survivors—families, friends—went unnoticed by Heaven.

The gravity of it all hit Vaggie like a ton of bricks. She now fully understood the kind of loss and pain sinners in Hell experienced when they lost someone they loved. She'd never felt more self-loathing than she did at this moment.

The angels in the courtroom began whispering amongst themselves, their voices growing louder as they debated the situation.

“How does a child that young end up in Hell?” one angel muttered.

“She was just trying to survive,” another whispered back.

“This doesn't seem right…”

“Why would Heaven condemn someone so young for self-defense?”

The murmurs grew more agitated as confusion spread through the court.

Emily, who had been quietly crying, suddenly shot to her feet. “What the fuck?!”

Her voice cracked with disbelief as she turned to face Sera, gesturing wildly at the orb.

“That poor soul was just trying to protect herself, and Heaven sent her to Hell?!”

She took a shaky breath, her voice rising. “Sera! Please, tell me this is some kind of mistake! How can a child defending herself be condemned to eternal punishment?!”

When Sera remained silent, Emily's desperation grew. “Say something! Anything!”

Sera remained eerily still, her gaze locked on the orb. The silence stretched on until finally, she spoke in a barely audible whisper.

“I... I don't understand this either.” Her voice was hollow, shaken. “Children that young... how did our system...?”

She trailed off, unable to finish the thought, her hands trembling slightly as doubt crept in.

Meanwhile, Adam and Lute were unfazed. They didn't seem to care about the young souls suffering—at least not in the way Charlie and the others did.

Adam, seeing the court's sympathy for Hell's denizens growing, started to panic.

“Are you really buying into what that little snake kid is saying?!” he demanded, trying to sway the court. “He could be lying! Maybe his friend did more than just steal—maybe she meant to kill!”

He sneered, his eyes full of contempt.

“Who's to say she isn't just a little monster waiting to come out? And she stole! Do you remember that list I made? It clearly says, 'Don't steal!'”

Charlie, already furious, stood up. Her horns emerged from her head, her hair flowed freely, and her eyes glowed with fierce intensity.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!” she roared, her voice echoing through the court and shaking the room with her wrath.

A wave of unease spread through the courtroom. Some angels shrank back in fear at the sight of Charlie's demon form, while others glared angrily at Adam. Shouts erupted from the crowd—some demanding answers from Sera, others directing their anger toward Adam's cruelty.

Emily, still reeling from the shocking revelations, raised her voice above the chaos.

“What's going on in Hell?! What's the purpose of those memorials?!” She paused, her tone desperate. “And what do the children mean by 'fallen'?!”

Just as Charlie was about to speak, Adam cut her off with a loud shout, drawing everyone's attention.

“LOOK! The little monsters are doing something again!” he declared, motioning toward the orb.

The entire court turned their focus back to the orb as the scene continued to play out

Chapter Text

The Memorial Room's heavy silence still clung to them as Pentious, Angel, and Cherri slipped back into the pulsing chaos of the club. The contrast was almost jarring—where sorrow had weighed down their hearts moments ago, now the neon lights flashed and the bassline pounded like nothing else in the world mattered but the next drink and the next dance.

Angel straightened his jacket, trying to shake off the lingering heaviness.

“Man, talk about a vibe switch,” he muttered, scanning the floor. That was when his eyes landed on Husk—of all people—barreling through the crowd like his tail was on fire.

“Husk? Why ya runnin' around like that?” Angel called, raising a brow.

The cat demon skidded to a stop, panting and looking more frazzled than usual. His wings twitched in irritation.

“Niffty's gone!”

The words hit like a record scratch.

“What?!” Angel's voice shot up an octave, his feathers ruffling. “How the hell d'you lose her?”

He immediately began scouring the crowd for a telltale flash of pastel or the glint of one of her ridiculous bows.

Husk's ears flattened as he snapped back,

“Ever try holdin' on to a hyperactive chihuahua? That's exactly what it's like with Niffty! One second she was clingin' to me, the next—bam—gone. She just slipped right outta my grip!”

Cherri, leaning on her bat with the patience of a cat watching birds fight, arched an eyebrow.

“And you're panicking because…?” she drawled. “Niffty's my age, y'know. She's not some baby who needs a leash.”

Angel whirled on her so fast his heels clicked. His smirk was gone, replaced by something sharper, almost protective.

“Cherri, she isn't like us. Niffty's… different.”

His tone softened, even if the worry in his eyes hardened.

“Sometimes she forgets where the line between fun and danger is. And tonight? She basically downed her body weight in booze. I don't gotta tell ya how that ends.”

The thought twisted in his gut—Niffty passed out in some corner, or worse, wandering off into the wrong alley. The kind of alley in Hell where “wrong” meant “you don't come back.”

Husk dragged a hand down his face, looking like he'd aged ten more years in the last five minutes.

“Yeah, exactly. And Charlie—” his voice pitched nervously, “Charlie's not gonna be thrilled if she finds out Niffty got hurt while we were supposed to be watchin' her.”

His eyes flicked toward Cherri like daggers. “So excuse me if I'm tryin' to keep our asses intact.”

Cherri groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes like she was being asked to scrub floors. But even her irritation faltered at the thought of Charlie's wrath.

“…Fine,” she muttered, folding her arms tight. “But only 'cause I don't feel like bein' on Morningstar's bad side tonight.”

She jabbed a finger toward Husk and Angel. “We find her fast, or I'm out. Got it?”

Angel gave her a sharp grin, even though his stomach still twisted with worry. “Deal. Now let's move before that girl ends up part of the furniture.”"

And with that, the three of them plunged into the thrumming maze of the club—neon lights flashing, the crowd pressing in, and somewhere in the chaos, a tiny whirlwind named Niffty waiting to be found.

The club's flashing neon and pounding bass blurred into white noise as Angel pushed through the crowd, gut twisting tighter with every step. He was about to give up when he caught it—a small shadow darting past the club doors, quick as a moth to flame.

Angel froze. That's her. No doubt about it.

He bolted outside, heels clacking against the pavement.

And there she was.

Niffty stood on the sidewalk, a broom twice her size clutched in her tiny hands, frantically sweeping the grimy concrete as if she could scrub her own dizzy thoughts away. Her little arms moved so fast it was a miracle the broom hadn't burst into flames.

Angel let out a shaky sigh of relief.

“Oh thank hell…” He rushed forward, scooping her up like a kitten out of traffic.

“Niff! Where the hell've you been? You had us all worried sick!” Concern cracked through his usual sing-song tone, his grip tightening around her fluttery frame.

“I gotta clean! Everything's all spinny!” she chirped, voice strained, knuckles white on the broom like it was her lifeline.

Angel opened his mouth to calm her down—only for Niffty to suddenly lurch forward, vomit splattering the pavement.

“Aw, fuck—” Angel recoiled, holding her at arm's length like she was a leaking fire hydrant. But then she went slack in his arms, her head lolling against his chest.

Panic lit up his chest like fireworks. “Niffty? Hey, hey—buddy, you okay there?”

He shook her lightly, his heart skipping every other beat. “Don't do this to me, c'mon—”

She stayed frighteningly still.

Angel's throat closed up. His voice cracked as he shouted, “Augh! Niffty! Don't you dare be dead, I swear I'll kill ya myself if you're dead!”

And then—

Her eyes snapped wide open, pupils dilated, and she screamed at the top of her lungs: “I REALLY WANT A BAD BOY!”

Angel blinked.

And just as suddenly, she collapsed against him, out cold.

Angel gaped at her, utterly dumbfounded.

“…What the actual fuck,” he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He sighed, repositioning her in his arms. “Guess it's babysitter duty for me tonight.”

He pivoted back toward the club—only to freeze when a voice, oily and smug, cut through the quiet night air.

“Angel. You got a minute?”

Angel's expression hardened instantly. He swiveled on his heel, his sharp eyes narrowing when they landed on the figure lurking just past the glow of the streetlamps.

Vox.

Of course it was Vox.

Angel's lip curled. “Oh, you've gotta be shitting me. What the fuck are you doing here?”

His voice was all venom, eyebrow arched high. He jerked his chin toward the club's glowing neon sign.

“In case you didn't notice, this place has a no-adult policy.”

Vox straightened his pristine jacket, the blue glow of his screen-face flickering with smugness.

“Sure, adults can't go inside.” His grin stretched, sharp as static. “Doesn't mean we can't linger outside. Streets are fair game.”

Angel shifted his weight, keeping Niffty balanced in his arms. He didn't drop his guard, not for a second.

“Lemme guess—you out here bein' a creep again? Came sniffin' around for Alastor, hopin' for some twisted little obsession kink?”

Vox's display glitched violently, his smirk cracking under the static.

“IT'S NOT A KINK!” he barked, voice warping with distortion.

Angel's unimpressed stare didn't budge an inch.

Vox sucked in a long, robotic breath, his face flickering as he tried to smooth his composure. “…I'm just out for my nightly stroll.”

Angel snorted, rolling his eyes so hard it hurt. “Uh-huh. Sure. And I'm the goddamn Pope.”

Vox leaned in far too close, his neon static glow painting Angel's cheek in pale blue. His voice was smooth, practiced, but there was a razor hidden beneath the velvet.

“I assure you, me being here is just a coincidence. I happened to pass by. You should run along—get back to partying with your little Hazbin friends.”

His hypnotic eye flickered, a glow building in the corner of his screen like a camera flash warming up. Angel felt a prickle crawl at the back of his mind, his vision swirling for a heartbeat.

But then he blinked hard, shook it off, and snarled.

“Funny.” His voice dropped, cold and sharp. “I didn't say anything about the Hazbins being here.”

He hoisted Niffty a little higher in his arms, using her unconscious, broom-clutching body as both shield and proof. “Could've just been me and Niff out here, but somehow…”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. “Somehow you already knew the whole hotel crew's here tonight.”

For a split second, Vox's smile faltered. His screen distorted at the edges.

Angel pounced.

“And since you're lurking, that means you know Charlie's not around either.” He jabbed a finger at Vox, his smirk wicked.

“You wouldn't be within ten feet of this place if she was here. You'd be pissing your circuit board.”

Vox chuckled, but the sound was low, humorless.

“Oh, Angel. You're so funny with those little jokes.” His static laugh grated like broken glass. “How the hell would I know any of that? I just got here.”

Before Angel could answer, a gravelly voice cut in from nearby.

“That guy's been standin' there for hours,” a Hellhound bouncer rumbled, stepping out of the shadows.

His red eyes glowed faint under the neon. “He's been trying to shove his way inside.”

Vox's face snapped toward him, glitching with fury.

“Shut the fuck up, you mangy mutt!” he spat, static hissing from his speakers. “Learn to respect your betters!”

The Hellhound bared his fangs, a low growl vibrating through the air as he stalked closer. The neon flickered in time with his rumble. Vox flinched—just a fraction—but enough to betray his nerves.

Angel caught it. And he grinned.

“You're pathetic,” he said, stepping forward, every inch of his tone dripping with disdain. “You stalk Alastor like a lovesick freak, but you only crawl out when Charlie isn't around.”

His smirk stretched, cruel and dangerous. “So why don't you do us all a favor and get lost before this gets even sadder.”

Vox's screen warped, pixels trembling with fury. He shoved forward, close enough that the static from his body made Angel's fur bristle.

“Don't forget, Angel—you're part of my company.” He jabbed a finger into Angel's chest, each word sharp as a nail. “Which means I own you. And you don't get to talk to your owner like that.”

Angel's laugh cut through the tension, harsh and mocking, filling the street like a weapon.

“Oh, man, you really missed a memo. You used to own me.” His eyes gleamed. “But now? I'm Velvette's problem. Not yours.”

He paused, relishing the buildup, then spat the words like venom. “So why don't you just… fuck off.”

Vox's whole body twitched, screen fracturing with violent glitches.

“Why, you—fucking brat!!” he roared, raising a hand, static sparking off his fingertips, about to strike.

But his hand never landed.

A massive clawed hand clamped around his wrist mid-swing. The Hellhound bouncer loomed over him, grip crushingly tight, his growl reverberating in his chest like thunder.

“That's enough.”

For a long, tense moment, the street held its breath. Vox's screen flickered between rage and fear, his body jerking against the Hellhound's unyielding hold.

“You need to leave. Now.” The bouncer's voice was calm, but the weight of authority behind it was iron.

Vox wrenched his arm free, humiliated, his pixels rippling with fury. His last glare at Angel was poisonous, a silent promise of payback.

Then, with a snarl, his body dissolved into static, streaking into the power lines above until only the hum of electricity remained.

Angel exhaled, his shoulders loosening, though his heart still hammered in his chest. He brushed vomit off Niffty's little bow with a grimace.

He tilted his head at the bouncer. “Thanks.” His smirk softened, just slightly.

The Hellhound gave a single nod, quiet and steady, before returning to his post.

Angel lingered only a moment longer, staring at the empty wires overhead where Vox had vanished. His smirk returned, though this time it was thinner, colder.

“Creepy bastard.”

With that, he spun around and slipped back into the club's noise and neon, Niffty's weight still in his arms, his mood sour but—at least—relieved.

“Hey, Angie! Looks like you found her!” Cherri's voice cut through the club noise, bright with relief as she spotted him making his way back.

Angel cradled Niffty closer and flashed his usual grin.

“Yeah, this little rascal's quick, but she ran outta gas. Lucky for me, huh?”

He gave Niffty a gentle pat, her small frame safe against him.

Alastor's chuckle hummed low as his tentacles unfurled, curling delicately around Niffty like a cradle. With an almost brotherly flourish, he lifted her from Angel's arms and passed her carefully into Husk's waiting hold.

For once, Alastor's theatrics softened into something solemn. He tipped his head at Angel, a rare, quiet nod of thanks.

Angel returned the gesture with a smile that wasn't his usual stage-mask smirk, but something steadier. The moment lingered like a silent handshake, respect passed between devils who rarely said it aloud.

Turning to Cherri, Angel softened his tone. “It's been a long-ass night. We should probably head back to the hotel.”

He jerked his chin toward Pentious, who was already swaying on his tail. “And we gotta get this one back to his momma before he croaks on us.”

“Awwww, but I'm not ready to stop the fun yet!” Cherri groaned dramatically, throwing her hands up like a teenager caught past curfew. Her grin, however, betrayed she was still buzzing off the night.

Angel snorted, waving a dismissive hand.

“Don't sweat it. We'll get home on our own. You can keep the party going if that's your jam.”

He gestured at the gathered Hazbin crew, adding with a cocky little smirk,

“Doubt anyone's dumb enough to mess with us when we're rollin' deep. Plus—” his voice dipped mockingly reverent—”we got Al on our side.”

Alastor beamed, tilting his head in faux humility as if Angel's jab were a compliment.

“Alright!” Cherri whooped, practically vibrating with excitement again. "”I'm gonna party 'til I crash and burn!”

She spun around, hair whipping, soaking up the music like gasoline to a flame.

Angel watched her a beat longer, then tilted his head with a teasing grin. “Ya' know, the hotel's huge. Empty, too. You ever get tired of burnin' out alone, you could always crash with us.”

Cherri smirked, stepping close enough to clap a hand on his shoulder. “Okay, look, Angie—I'm glad this hotel shit's working for you. Really.”

She winked, her voice slipping into that playful drawl only she could pull off. “But you know me, bitch—I'm doin' just fine.”

Her tone shifted, though, just enough to show she meant the next words. “But if you need me—anything, anytime—you know I got you. No questions asked.”

She squeezed his shoulder once, then pulled back, flashing that same signature grin. “Good night, Angie. Tonight was a blast. We should definitely do this more often.”

Angel chuckled, pulling her in for a quick hug that was more brotherly than anything else. “Night, Cherri. And yeah—we'll hit up another party soon. Count on it.”

With one last shared smile, he let her go and moved toward the door, falling into step with Husk, Alastor, Pentious, and the rest of the residents. The thrum of the club dulled behind them, replaced by the softer rhythm of footsteps and the quiet weight of the night.

Angel didn't mind the calm.

Back in the Angelic Courtroom, Charlie couldn't suppress the proud grin spreading across her face as the orb flickered with the scene outside the club. Her heart felt like it might burst with how far Angel had come.

Months ago, he would've brushed everything off with a joke, done the selfish thing, maybe even bolted when things got hard.

But now?

He'd stepped up. He'd protected Niffty, stood his ground against Vox, and done it all without slipping back into his old vices.

Her chest swelled. This is why I believe in him. This is why I believe in redemption.

“See!” Charlie cried, her voice ringing against the marble walls as she thrust her arms toward the orb. “He did everything on your checklist!”

She jabbed a finger toward the glowing list suspended in the air, ticking each item off with increasing triumph.

"”He was selfless, he stopped Niffty from stealing, and he stuck it to that TV creep!”

Her golden eyes shone with conviction, a spark of her father's fire mixed with her mother's grace. To her, it was undeniable proof—Angel had grown, and he deserved recognition for it.

Across the room, Adam shifted in his seat, visibly squirming. His smug air faltered, the nervous tap of his foot betraying his growing unease.

“Uhhh… well, uh…” he stammered, his usual bravado cracking. “So, why isn't he here then, huh? If he's so worthy—where is he?”

Emily turned toward Sera, her gentle expression clouded with confusion. “Yeah… why isn't he here?”

Her words carried the weight of genuine curiosity rather than accusation, but Sera didn't so much as glance her way. The Seraph's gaze fixed on the far wall as though stone itself were suddenly fascinating.

The murmur in the chamber swelled. Angels whispered to each other, uncertainty spreading like wildfire. They had all seen it—Angel Dust checked every single box Adam himself had set. By all appearances, he'd earned his way in.

And yet, he wasn't here.

The contradiction rippled through the room, wings shifting, faces tightening, whispers buzzing like restless bees.

Charlie's eyes widened as realization struck her. “Wait—” Her voice dropped to something between disbelief and horror. “None of you know what gets someone into Heaven?”

The courtroom stilled.

Before the weight of her words could sink any deeper, Sera's voice sliced through the silence, cold and final.

“This questioning stops now.”

The temperature in the chamber seemed to drop, her authority sharp as a blade. Her tone carried no room for argument.

“We know when a soul arrives, and we know when it has faced Divine Judgment.” Sera's voice resonated with practiced detachment.

“It is not our place to pry into mysteries beyond that. Our duty is to safeguard Heaven and those who belong within it. Sinners and Hell are of no concern to us.”

Charlie flinched at the icy dismissal, her nails digging into her palms.

Emily quietly conjured the glowing list Adam had written, her eyes narrowing as she studied it.

Every task—crossed out. Every test—passed.

But still, he's not here. He's not in Heaven.

Emily's lips pressed into a thin line, her usually gentle features marked with something she rarely allowed herself to feel: doubt.

Something wasn't adding up. And for the first time, even the angels could sense it.

The angelic courtroom shimmered with unease, the pale light of the orb casting restless shadows across white marble pillars. Every pair of eyes fixed on Emily as she cut through the stillness like a beacon of truth.

“But she was right, Sera,” Emily began to sing, her tone rising with conviction. “She showed us a soul can improve.”

Her wings unfurled with radiant grace, feathers glowing as she flew into the air. The orb followed her ascent, carried aloft as though tethered to her will. At her command, its glow deepened, shifting to reveal the image of Angel Dust. He stood tall in defiance of Vox, posture firm, spirit unbowed.

For once, his grin wasn't a mask—it was a declaration.

“He saw the light, Sera,” Emily sang, softness threading through her melody. “Checked all the boxes that you said would.”

Hovering now at Sera's side, Emily held the orb out for her to see.

The Seraphim expression remained a sculpted mask of authority, but her eyes betrayed her.

Something flickered—hesitation, doubt, a glimpse of the humanity buried beneath centuries of judgment.

Emily descended, landing lightly on the marble floor. She turned to face the court, her hand sweeping outward as the orb hovered at her side, its glow bathing the audience in warm light.

Her song swelled, filling the chamber. “Prove a person deserves a second chance.”

She spun slowly, wings trailing sparkles of light, meeting the crowd's gaze. “Now we turn our backs, no second glance?”

Murmurs rippled across the gathered angels, feathers rustling, hushed but heated whispers spreading. The question hung heavy in the air: could they really condemn those below forever, even when proof of change was before them?

Sera, however, would not allow the tide to sway so easily. Feeling the weight of Emily's words pressing in, she stepped forward, authority and sorrow mingling as she sang,

“It's not as simple as you think.”

Emily flew toward her while Sera closed the distance. She reached out, gently clasping Emily's hand in her own, grounding her with the gravity of a truth carved from eternity itself.

“Not everything is spelled in ink.”

Her grip tightened, not in malice but in warning, conveying the burden of judgment through touch alone. For a moment, it seemed the whole court held its breath, caught between hope and resignation.

But on the floor below, Charlie's restraint was fraying fast. Her fists clenched at her sides, nails biting into her palms as she tilted her chin up toward the dais.

Frustration sharpened her song. “It's not fair, Sera.”

Vaggie was at her side in an instant, her hand warm on Charlie's shoulder, grounding her with quiet strength.

“Careful, Charlie, keep a cool head…” she murmured, though her own wings quivered with suppressed tension.

But Charlie shook her off, her heart pounding too fiercely to be calmed. Her wings twitched open, her whole being alight with righteous fury.

"No!"

Her cry tore through the courtroom, echoing off marble and glass. Every angel turned to her as she stood tall, golden eyes shimmering with determination.

She looked directly at Sera, her words a challenge, a plea, a cry from her soul. “Don't you care, Sera?”

“That just because someone is dead,” she pressed on, emotion quivering through each word, “it doesn't mean they can't resolve to change their ways.”

The orb pulsed in response, spilling images into the air like pages torn from a living book. Angel laughing at the club, reckless and hollow. Angel standing firm for his friends. Angel changing, piece by piece, into something more.

Charlie's song surged, filling every corner of the chamber with blazing conviction.

“Turn the page,” she sang, her eyes determined, in a flare of light, “escape infernal blaze.”

The court was silent, captivated. Even those who had scoffed now shifted uneasily, caught in the force of her declaration.

And still, Sera stood unmoved—yet her mask was fracturing. Sorrow flooded her gaze as her melody rose, quiet and mournful.

“I'm sure you wish it could be so,” she sang, each note heavy with regret.

She bowed her head slightly, folding her wings close as if to shield herself from what she had to admit.

“But there's a lot that you don't know.”

The chamber fell still, the echoes of the song clinging to the air like ghostly chains, unbroken and unresolved.

“What are we even talkin' about?” Lute sang, sarcasm dripping from every syllable, each word slicing the air like a blade.

“Some coked-up tween who fucked up already?”

The mockery stung, and Charlie shot Lute a death glare so sharp it could cut glass. Her fury burned, nails digging into her palms as the weight of Lute's dismissiveness crashed down.

“He blew his shot, so early in life!"

Lute continued, her tone mocking, as if Angel's struggles were nothing more than a punchline.

“This discussion is senseless and petty.”

“There's no question to be posed, he's unholy, case closed,”

Adam and Lute sang in unison, their harmony a perfect blend of cruelty. The smugness radiated off them as they rose from their seats. Their wings spread wide, gleaming in the glow of the court's ethereal light, and they glided toward the orb with taunting grace.

Perching atop it like vultures, they sneered down at Charlie, their melodies condescending and sharp.

“Did you forget that Hell is forever?” they sang, their combined power booming through the chamber.

Adam joined in with a grin that could curdle blood, leaning closer to Charlie as if daring her to break.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month,” mockery dripping from his melody.

Charlie shuddered, the heat of her anger spilling over as her demonic form unfurled. Shadows rippled across her skin, hellfire blazing in her eyes as Adam hovered close, his arrogance suffocating.

“Gotta say, I can't wait to—” he crooned with venom.

“Adam…” Sera's sharp warning cut through the air like a bell. But he didn't hear—he didn't want to.

“—Come down and exterminate you!” Adam's booming declaration echoed across the heavenly court. The words landed like a curse, staining the sanctity of the hall.

The chamber fell into stunned silence.

"Wait!" Emily cried, cutting through the heavy tension like a ray of light. Her wings beat furiously as she stared, aghast.

Adam faltered, realizing what he'd admitted. His grin twisted into a curse.

"Shit…" he muttered under his breath, the word barely audible but damning all the same.

Emily's song rose, horrified. “What are you saying? Let me get this straight—”

She swooped down, wings spread wide, and landed before the orb. Its surface flickered, shifting to reveal the horrific image of a lone exorcist surrounded by writhing sinners. Her heart clenched as she stared, sorrow flooding her features.

“You go down there and kill those poor souls?” Emily sang, grief cracking through her melody.

“You didn't know,” Charlie's song joined softly, filled with sorrow.

The realization weighed on her like lead—Heaven's dark truth had been hidden even from its own.

“Whoops!” Adam sang carelessly, his grin snapping back into place, mocking as ever.

“Guess the cat's out of the bag…” Lute's melody flitted beside him, light and cruel.

“What's the big deal?” Adam added with unshaken arrogance, as though the blood of countless damned meant nothing.

Emily turned toward Sera, disbelief raw in her song.

“Sera, tell me that you didn't know.”

Sera's composure faltered, guilt painting her features in fragile cracks. Her melody wavered, soft and defensive.

“I thought, since I'm older… It's my load to shoulder.”

Emily stumbled back, her wings shaking as her hands raked through her hair.

"No," she sang, frustration and heartbreak crashing together.

Sera reached out desperately, her song pleading, weighted with centuries of choices.

“You have to listen. It was such a hard decision.”

She floated down, grasping Emily's hands with fragile reverence.

“I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to—” her melody faltered, her gaze shimmering with unspoken sorrow.

“—Do what was required.”

Sera tried to smile through the weight of it, her hands shaking in Emily's grasp. But Emily pulled away sharply, betrayal flashing across her face.

Her song rose, aching with heartbreak.

“To think that I admired you,” she sang, each word like a blade twisting in Sera's chest.

She turned away, wings quivering with fury, her emotions spilling raw and unguarded.

“Well, I don't need your condescension.”

Her melody cut through the air like sharpened glass. Emily spun back, glaring at Sera with all the weight of betrayal burning in her gaze.

“I'm not a child to protect,” she sang fiercely, wounded pride threading through her tone, her eyes shimmering with tears she refused to shed.

The betrayal lingered heavy in the room, pressing down like a stormcloud ready to break.

“Was talk of virtue just pretension?” Emily's song climbed, dripping with both heartbreak and accusation. “Was I too naïve to expect you,”

Her flight was sharp and restless, darting through the air with the energy of a caged bird desperate to be free. She whirled back toward Sera, her frustration boiling over.

“To heed the morals you're purveying?”

The words stung like a lash. Sera flinched, but Emily didn't relent. The exterminations shattered everything Sera once preached to her—virtue, mercy, justice. How could the woman she admired stand complicit in slaughter?

“That's what the fuck I've been saying!” Charlie's anger erupted like wildfire, her song strong and defiant.

She jumped onto the orb beside Emily, their movements synchronizing in raw defiance. Together, the two blazed like firebrands, their combined melody declaring:

“If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie!”

The courtroom gasped, angels shifting in alarm. Sera staggered back, her face pale, her wings twitching with fear.

“Emily!” Horror quivered through her cry, realizing the words just spoken could not be taken back.

But Charlie and Emily pressed on, the force of their conviction unshakable.

“If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky,” they sang, pointing toward the orb as its visions shifted violently.

“The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say.”

“When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again.”

The orb flared bright and dreadful, showing the court a chilling vision: an exorcist driving terrified children into a corner, their screams raw and desperate. Their small faces twisted in terror as the executioner loomed above them.

Gasps rippled across the court, some angels clasping their mouths in horror, others whispering furiously to one another.

Charlie's song broke the silence, pain threading through each note.

“I was told not to trust in angels,” she sang, her gaze flicking to Vaggie.

The admission hung like a noose.

Adam stepped forward with a smirk that oozed venom.

“By her?” he sang, jerking his thumb toward Vaggie.

Lute leaned on Vaggie's shoulder, her smirk cruel as she crooned, “Ha! She should know.”

Vaggie stiffened, panic flickering across her face as she turned quickly to Charlie.

“We should go,” she urged, her tone low and desperate, clinging to the hope of escaping before things spiraled further.

But Charlie wasn't ready to flee. She grabbed Vaggie's hands, pleading determination blazing in her gaze.

"No!" she cried out, desperation sharpening her melody.

“Don't you see? We've come so close.”

She motioned toward the angels above, their pristine order unraveling as they shouted and bickered, wings flaring and halos dimming.

”Look at them fighting; they're at each other's throats.”

The chamber descended into chaos—angels shouting over one another, lines being drawn in glowing light. Sera stood rooted in place, her hand half-raised as if she could still salvage control.

But Adam stepped forward, his song low, dangerous, and mocking.

“Don't you act all high and mighty.”

He got nose-to-nose with Charlie, his grin sharp and cruel.

“Did you ever think your little girlfriend might be a liar?”

Vaggie jerked forward instantly, desperation cracking through her plea. “Don't, Adam, please!”

Adam only smirked wider, tilting his head in feigned innocence. “What's the fuss?”

He turned with deliberate malice toward Lute. She already knew the game.

Lute gripped Vaggie tighter, forcing her forward as Adam sang loud enough for all the court to hear,

“Why hide the fact that you're an angel—”

“—Just like US?”

The courtroom gasped, outrage rising in a tidal wave. The orb reacted violently, glowing bright as a hidden memory unspooled across its surface.

A younger Vaggie appeared in the projection, her form clad in exorcist armor. Her wings unfurled, their glow sharp and merciless. The scene was washed in shadows and blood, her stance rigid as a sinner cowered before her. The contrast was damning, a mirror to the woman Charlie thought she knew.

Charlie stared, stricken. The betrayal crashed over her in waves, stealing the breath from her chest.

Vaggie—the woman she trusted, the woman she loved—had been one of them.

The room fell into suffocating silence, the truth pressing down on everyone like a blade. Angels murmured. The court held its breath.

And Charlie's world began to crack. Her partner had lied to her.

Chapter Text

Charlie dropped to her knees, the revelation hitting her like a physical blow.

Vaggie... an angel?

Tears streamed down her face as her hands flew up to cover her eyes, unable to process the betrayal—no, the secret—that had been kept from her all this time. Vaggie was at her side in an instant, arms wrapping around her trembling form, heart shattering at the sight of Charlie's pain.

Sera lifted her hand, commanding silence in the court. She took a deep breath, and when she looked at Charlie, there was genuine regret in her eyes—but it didn't change what came next.

“I'm sorry... but this court finds that there is no evidence souls in Hell can be redeemed.”

The words fell like a death sentence.

Emily sank back into her seat, her gaze locked on Charlie with barely contained sympathy. She wanted to do something, anything, but what could she do against a court ruling?

Adam, however, was having the time of his afterlife.

“Oh, FUCK, YES!!” He practically bounced in his seat, grinning like a maniac as he turned his attention to the two women below. “I WIN!!! SUCK IT, BITCHES!”

He flipped them both off with enthusiastic pride, savoring every second of their defeat.

Before anyone could stop him, Adam swooped down, physically shoving past Charlie and Vaggie and forcing them backward. His presence was suffocating, his arrogance radiating off him in waves.

“You better save the date, cunts,” he sneered, leaning in close enough that they could see the gleam of cruelty in his eyes. “'Cause we're coming to your hotel FIRST.”

With a casual snap of his fingers, a swirling portal to Hell tore open behind them.

Charlie's eyes went wide. “What—NO!! NO!! You can't—”

“You... Motherfu—” Vaggie's curse was cut short as the vortex yanked them backward, their screams echoing through the courtroom as they were sucked into the portal and sent plummeting back to Hell.

“Charlie!! Don't give up on this!” Emily's voice rang out desperately before the portal snapped shut. “I'll figure something out, I promise!”

Sera stared at the empty space where the portal had been, her expression tight with disapproval as she turned to Adam. “That was uncalled for, Adam.”

Adam's grin started to fade as he realized the entire courtroom had gone silent. Not the good kind of silent. The “what the hell did you just do” kind of silent.

He looked around, confused. “What? Why are you all staring like that? That was fuckin' hilarious!”

And then the dam broke.

“How could this have happened right under our noses?!” an angel demanded, shooting to their feet.

“Those poor innocent souls!” another cried out, voice cracking with emotion. “So young and vulnerable to both Hell and Heaven!”

“Aren't you supposed to be the father of humanity?” someone else yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Adam. “How could you be so cruel to children?”

The questions came rapid-fire, overlapping and growing louder:

“Why were there exterminations in the first place?”

“Who approved this? And why was it never discussed as a council?”

“Sera! What exactly is going on?”

The courtroom erupted into absolute chaos. Angels were shouting over each other, their voices a cacophony of anger, disgust, and horror. Adam, who'd been standing there smugly just seconds ago, now found himself at the center of Heaven's collective fury.

The atmosphere shifted from tense to explosive as more angels began voicing their outrage, particularly about the children.

Then one angel stood, and something about their tone cut through the noise like a knife.

“—And now you're purposefully targeting a place that has nothing but children?!”

The room went deathly quiet.

Every single eye turned to Adam. The weight of that silence was crushing.

“You knew that most residents at Princess Morningstar's hotel are children,” the angel continued, their voice shaking with righteous fury, “and still—still—you had the audacity to say you'd go there first. To kill them all!”

The accusation hung in the air, damning and undeniable.

“Have you no heart? Have you forgotten your virtues?!” They slammed their fist down on the table, the crack echoing through the chamber.

“How can you call yourself an angel? Your actions—everything we've just witnessed—aren't for Heaven's sake. They're driven by nothing but pettiness and a thirst for revenge!”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. Angels were nodding, their expressions ranging from disappointment to outright fury.

The consensus was clear: Adam had crossed a line.

And Adam? Adam snapped.

“FUCK YOU!” he roared, his voice raw and vicious. “Who cares if I killed a couple of brats? They're sinners! Trash for Heaven to clean up!”

The cruelty in his voice was staggering. “Who cares if they die? No one gives a shit!”

His eyes were wild, unhinged. To him, the souls in Hell—children or not—were nothing. Just bugs to be exterminated.

The horror on the angels' faces was immediate and visceral. Some looked like they might be sick. Others were shaking with rage. A few seemed on the verge of tears, thinking about the innocent children who'd been slaughtered.

Questions began flying again, but this time with more desperation:

“Are we even under attack?” one angel asked, voice trembling. “If there was a threat to Heaven, why weren't we informed?”

“What danger could possibly justify exterminating children?”

The courtroom had become a storm of confusion and moral reckoning. No one knew what to believe anymore. Everything they'd thought they understood about the exterminations was crumbling.

Sera knew she had to take control before things spiraled further.

She rose to her feet, and when she spoke, her voice boomed through the chamber.

“SILENCE!”

The effect was immediate. Every voice cut off. Every angel froze.

All eyes turned to her, and for one suspended moment, you could have heard a pin drop.

Sera closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and steadied herself. When she opened them again, her gaze locked onto Adam with an intensity that could have melted steel.

She took a single step forward, her presence commanding absolute authority.

“Adam.” Her voice was ice-cold and razor-sharp.

“You will head to my office immediately and wait there until I arrive. I will be having a personal discussion with you regarding your behavior and actions during today's hearing.”

It wasn't a request. It was a command, backed by the full weight of her position.

Adam's face went pale. He'd never—never—seen Sera this angry before. Usually, she let him get away with just about everything. Her patience had always been his safety net.

But that safety net was gone.

He swallowed hard and nodded, all his bravado evaporating in the face of her fury. Without another word—without even a snarky comment—he flew out of the courtroom, Lute trailing silently behind him like a shadow.

Once they were gone, an eerie silence settled over the room.

Several angels rose and approached Sera, their faces tight with urgency.

“Why did the exterminations happen in the first place?” one demanded, voice shaking with barely restrained anger. “And why are there so many children in Hell? How is that even possible?”

Another stepped forward, eyes wide with disbelief. “If what that kid said is true... are souls really being sent to Hell just for surviving? For defending themselves?”

The implication was horrifying.

More voices joined in, overlapping and insistent:

“Sera, what's the real deal with these exterminations?”

“What threat from Hell are you even talking about?”

“And why weren't we ever told about it?”

All eyes were on her. The pressure was suffocating. They expected answers—demanded them.

But Sera had none to give. Not yet.

She raised a trembling hand, signaling for quiet. Her chest felt tight, her heart racing. She could barely breathe under the weight of their stares.

“Please…” Her voice was softer now, strained. “Just give me a moment to process all of this.”

She placed a hand over her heart, trying to steady its frantic beating. “I just need some time. I will explain everything. I promise.”

The angels exchanged uncertain glances. A few nodded reluctantly, willing to grant her a temporary reprieve.

But one angel stepped forward, arms crossed, expression hard.

“Alright. We'll wait,” they said, each word deliberate. “But you better keep that promise. Because if you don't, we're calling for another hearing. And this time, you're the one answering the questions.”

They paused, letting the weight of their next words sink in.

“And if things get any worse... the elders might have to be involved.”

Sera's blood turned to ice.

Her face went deathly pale.

The elders.

No. Not them.

The elders were the highest authority in Heaven—beings who didn't just pass judgment. They ended things. If they got involved, this wouldn't be a hearing anymore. It would be a reckoning. And Sera would be the one standing trial.

She'd never felt dread like this before. Not in all her eons.

The angels began filing out slowly, their expressions troubled and confused. Some were still whispering to each other, trying to make sense of what they'd just witnessed.

Sera remained frozen in place, her mind spinning out of control.

How had everything unraveled so fast?

The grand courtroom emptied. The voices faded. The footsteps grew distant.

Until only two remained.

Sera.

And Emily.

Emily stood with her arms crossed tightly, her face full disbelief and anger burning in equal measure.

“Extermination... of human souls?!” The words trembled with accusation as they left her lips.

“Demon or not, there is no reason to be doing this!” She spun sharply toward her sister, each word cutting like a blade. “How could you let this happen?”

Sera's eyes widened, heat flooding her face as she shot back defensively.

“They were uprising, Emily!” The words came out almost like a growl, her entire body tense with centuries of pent-up frustration.

Her hair seemed to pulse with energy, her eyes reflecting the weight of the burden she carried as head Seraphim—a physical manifestation of power and responsibility that threatened to consume her.

“It is my position to protect our people at all costs.” She reached out, hands coming to rest on Emily's shoulders, almost pleading for understanding. “And it's your position to keep them happy and joyful.”

Emily shook her head, pain clouding her expression as she stepped back from the touch.

Her voice cracked with emotion. “How can I bring joy when I now know we're bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?”

She paused, her mind visibly racing as the pieces began clicking into place.

“How is it even possible for so many children to end up in Hell?” The question hung between them, heavy with implication.

“I would've known if that was happening. Parents and families would be devastated—furious—if they knew their children were down there!”

Panic began seeping into her tone as the realization crept closer.

“But I barely got any questions. It's like... like they don't even—”

Her words died in her throat. Her eyes widened as the terrible truth slammed into her.

Slowly, she turned to face Sera fully.

“You did something to them... didn't you?”

Her gaze flicked to the orb glowing softly nearby, that cursed artifact that held so much power over memory itself.

“They don't remember having children.” The words were barely a whisper. “Or they don't even realize there are gaps in their memories.”

When she spoke again, fury sharpened every syllable.

“Is this what Heaven has become? Just blocking out anything that threatens the illusion of perfection?”

She slammed her fist down on the table, the impact reverberating through the chamber.

“Instead of just removing trauma, you erased anything that might make them question Heaven?”

“It was protocol, Emily!” Sera's voice cracked with anguish. “I had to do it!”

Emily's eyes blazed as she locked gazes with her sister.

“How is this Heaven?!” The word came out like a curse. “This is just... one massive lie!”

“Emily, STOP!” Sera's plea was desperate, her composure finally fracturing. She was trying to prevent this—trying to stop everything from spiraling beyond her control.

“You're questioning too much,” she warned, strain evident in every word. “That's a dangerous road you're going down.”

She took a step closer, voice dropping to something almost pleading. “You just need to fulfill your duty as the Seraphim of Joy. Let me deal with this. This is not your responsibility.”

Emily recoiled as if she'd been struck.

“Did you not hear what you just said?!” Her hand pressed against her chest, trembling with the force of her emotion.

“I'm the Seraphim of Joy! It's my duty to bring and protect the joy of Heaven!”

She rose to meet Sera's height, power thrumming beneath her skin as her authority began to manifest.

“Children are part of my duties! They are humanity's joy... and Heaven's joy!”

Each word landed with the weight of divine truth.

“The fact that innocent children are in Hell—being exterminated by Heaven—means that I can and will get involved!”

Sera's face went deathly pale, shock widening her eyes.

She'd forgotten—or perhaps willfully ignored—that Emily's power as the Seraphim of Joy wasn't just ceremonial.

She had authority.

Real authority.

The kind that could override even Sera's commands when it came to matters of Heaven's happiness.

And that terrified her.

“Emily, please don't.” Sera's voice dropped to a whisper as she reached for her sister's hand, desperation written across every feature.

“If you start questioning, you could end up like Lucifer.”

The name hung between them like a death sentence.

"Fallen."

Sera squeezed Emily's hand tighter, as if she could physically keep her from slipping away. “I'll take care of everything. Please, just let me worry about this, okay?”

Before Emily could respond, Sera leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead—and then vanished in a flash of light.

“NO! Sera, wait—!” Emily's cry echoed through the empty chamber, but there was no one left to hear it.

The courtroom felt cavernous now, silent and cold. Emily stood alone, confusion and heartache churning in her chest like a physical ache. Everything she'd believed—everything she'd been taught to believe—had come crashing down around her, leaving nothing but questions and broken trust.

Heaven was built on lies. On memories erased to preserve an illusion of perfection.

And the children...

The children.

Those innocent souls who had died too young, who had been abandoned by the very realm that should have protected them. Who were being slaughtered in the name of Heaven's safety.

She couldn't ignore it. She wouldn't.

Emily's gaze drifted down to Adam's list, still clutched in her hand. Then to the orb, glowing softly with its terrible power.

The silence stretched on as something hardened inside her—a resolve as unshakable as the foundation of Heaven itself.

She would find out the truth.

All of it.

No matter what it cost her. No matter how many lies she had to unravel or how many uncomfortable truths she had to face.

She wasn't going to let this go.

Not while Heaven hid its darkest secrets behind smiles and erased memories.

Not while children suffered for Heaven's sins.

Never.

Chapter Text

It was one of those mornings in the hotel where everything felt too quiet. The wrong kind of quiet. The weight of last night's revelations hung heavy in the air as Vaggie, Angel, Niffty, Alastor, Husk, and Sir Pentious lounged in the living room, tension radiating off them in waves.

Vaggie had just finished sharing details of the chaotic hearing in Heaven, frustration and heartbreak coloring her words like bruises. She'd spoken about her past as an exorcist, Charlie's struggle, and that sudden, painful moment when the courtroom had absolutely erupted into chaos.

The group sat in silence afterward.

There was so much to process.

There was so much.

Niffty, ever the chaos gremlin, broke the silence in the only way she knew how: bluntly and without a filter.

“So, like, where are your wings?” she asked, genuinely curious but far too loud for comfort.

Vaggie froze, her single eye twitching slightly. Then she exhaled slowly. “Niffty, I don't—”

But Angel's voice cut in, smug and dripping with that specific kind of teasing only he could manage. “Did you ever think maybe she's sensitive about her lack of wings? Or, you know, her lack of fashion sense?”

He leaned back with a smirk, clearly pleased with himself, as if he'd cracked the funniest joke of the century.

Niffty gasped—delighted rather than horrified. Her eyes flicked straight to Vaggie's uniform with the subtlety of a crashing wrecking ball.

“Yeah! Where’s your fashion sense?” she echoed brightly, bouncing a little in her seat.

Vaggie's eye narrowed dangerously, her patience visibly thinning. She rubbed her temples, clearly trying to stave off the inevitable migraine.

“Any other questions?” she asked flatly, her tone suggesting there better not be.

Sir Pentious, who had been quietly observing, raised his hand like he was back in the classroom. He looked genuinely unimpressed by the ongoing banter.

“Seriously, does nobody else know that Vaggie's an exorcist?” he asked, as if the whole situation were absolutely absurd. “Like, at all?”

The room went silent.

Everyone turned to stare at Vaggie, wide-eyed and looking like they'd just been hit with a revelation.

“Wait,” Vaggie said slowly, bewilderment written all over her face. “You knew that I'm an exorcist? How the hell do you know that?”

She'd been so careful. She hadn't let anything slip that would give her away, especially not to someone like Pentious.

Pentious shrugged casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and tapped his left eye with his finger. “You've got a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear. It's not rocket science.”

He continued with the matter-of-factness of someone pointing out the sky was blue.

“Plus, your color scheme matches the exorcists almost perfectly. I know my mom's palette is similar, but yours is way more obvious. Not to mention that time you nicked yourself on my angelic switchblade—I saw your blood. Saw the whole thing.”

The others' eyes widened even further in shock. They hadn't noticed these details before, but now that Pentious had laid it out like that, it seemed painfully, almost embarrassingly obvious.

Vaggie rubbed her temples harder, feeling her headache creep in like an unwelcome houseguest.

Everything was unraveling. Everything.

She exhaled slowly, trying to push past the flood of emotions threatening to drown her.

“Does anyone else here know I'm an exorcist?” she asked, her tone dangerously casual in that way that meant she was hanging on by a thread.

Alastor raised his hand with an almost theatrical flourish, a knowing smirk playing across his face like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.

“You too?!” Vaggie blurted out, her composure cracking. “How?! Why does everyone—”

Alastor leaned back in his seat, clearly relishing her surprise like it was the finest entertainment money could buy. “Little Timmy told me.”

Vaggie blinked once. Then again. Her face shifted from shock to complete and utter what the actual fuck.

“Who the hell is Little Timmy, and how does he know I'm an exorcist?!”

Alastor's grin widened with all the teeth of a predator who'd just spotted its prey. His eyes flashed with mischief, that dangerous kind that always meant trouble.

“Oh, he's that little cannibal boy you spared during the extermination day.”

The room went very still.

The temperature seemed to drop. Vaggie's blood ran cold as the memory crashed into her like a tidal wave.

She froze, her voice barely above a whisper, trembling slightly. “…What?”

Alastor's usual mocking tone shifted into something with genuine weight behind it.

“When you told him to run and hide, he did. But the little devil stayed close enough to witness everything—your clash with Lute and Adam, all of it. The whole bloody spectacle.”

Vaggie's mouth hung open, her chest tightening as if someone had wrapped chains around her ribs.

“He saw? He knew?” She could barely process it. “He remembers me… even now?”

“Of course he does,” Alastor said simply, and for once—actually, genuinely for once—his tone was completely devoid of that usual cruelty.

He tilted his head, his red eyes narrowing with something almost like affection. It was unsettling.

“It's not every day an angel spares your life. He was terrified—utterly petrified. Scuttled away long after the extermination ended, but he never forgot. You don't forget something like that.”

His smirk returned then, softer but no less dangerous.

“He also understood it would be very… unwise to tell anyone. Smart kid. He kept your secret safe—for your sake as much as his own.”

Vaggie remained silent, trembling beneath the weight of it all. This kid she'd spared. This kid who'd witnessed her at her absolute lowest point, seen her blood and her weapon, watched her fall.

And he'd kept quiet. All this time. He'd kept quiet.

Alastor leaned closer, his voice dropping to something teasing yet oddly sincere in a way that made Vaggie's skin prickle.

“When he saw you on the commercial, he recognized you instantly. Been trying to meet you ever since. Won't shut up about it, actually.”

“Wait.” Vaggie snapped her attention back to him, completely disoriented. “He wants to meet me?” She pointed a finger at herself. “Why? Didn't I almost kill him?”

Alastor just chuckled.

“Yes, you almost killed him. But you didn't. And now he wants to thank you—for telling him to run, for sparing him when you had every reason not to. When you could've just… followed protocol.”

Something twisted sharply in Vaggie's chest, an unfamiliar warmth threading through the doubt and fear like a thread of gold through darkness.

“He wouldn't be alive without you,” Alastor continued, his voice surprisingly earnest in a way.

“You didn't just save his life; you changed the trajectory of it completely. That's something a child doesn't forget, Vaggie. That's something that sticks with them forever.”

Vaggie swallowed hard, her arms folding tightly across her chest like a shield. Like if she held herself together physically, maybe everything else wouldn't fall apart.

“…Are you sure about this? It wasn't some grand, noble decision or anything. I just… I just acted.”

The demon's eyes glinted, sharper now, more serious than before. “So serious that he struck a deal with me just for the chance to see you again.”

Her stomach dropped like she'd just gone over the edge of a cliff. “Wait—you made a deal with him?!”

Vaggie's eye narrowed to a dangerous slit. “Alastor, that's—you could've figured that out yourself without dragging some kid into it. What did you actually want out of that deal?”

Alastor waved a dismissive hand, his grin spreading wide and lazy.

“Quit your worrying, Naggy. His side of the bargain was already fulfilled—he simply informed me of a fallen exorcist walking these streets. That was the extent of it.”

His grin widened even further, full of teeth in a way that was vaguely threatening. “Imagine my delight when I realized it was you.”

He twirled his microphone with a laugh, utterly unbothered by her glare.

“I was considering blackmail, actually. The leverage would've been absolutely delicious. But alas, I uncovered the truth far too late.”

He tilted his head, his expression sharpening into something devilishly pleased.

“Still, gossip has its perks, doesn't it? Perhaps I should spend more evenings loitering in those seedy little clubs. The things one can learn in the shadows…”

Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath that definitely wasn't appropriate for mixed company. Her patience was hanging by a single thread, and they were all dancing dangerously close to snapping it.

Finally, she looked up, fixing the entire room with a deadpan glare that could've frozen hell itself.

“Any. Other. Questions?”

Husk chimed in, frustration absolutely lacing his voice.

“Yeah, actually, I got one. How come every single time Charlie talks to Heaven,” he leaned forward, his tone dripping with sarcasm thick enough to coat the walls, “we end up getting stuck in deeper and deeper shit?”

Vaggie's instinct was to snap back, defensive claws out and ready to fight. But she forced herself to pause, to breathe, to steady her voice instead. It took visible effort.

“It's not her fault. Angels are just—”

“Liars?” Angel interjected, not even looking up from his nails.

“—Difficult,” Vaggie ground out, her tone clipped and sharp as broken glass as her patience wore thinner by the second.

She swept her eye across the room, her expression almost imploring. “But Charlie's trying. She's doing everything she can to help us. We have to trust that.”

“Yeah, well, her 'best' is working out real great so far,” Husk muttered bitterly, rolling his eyes as he sank deeper into the couch cushions. His tail flicked with irritation, the only thing moving except his jaw.

Angel leaned back with a tired groan. “And where's Miss Fearless Leader, huh? Isn't it time for another one of her patented 'doomed-to-fail' plans?”

His tone was light on the surface but absolutely dripping with sarcasm underneath, thick and heavy.

Vaggie's gaze flicked toward the staircase, her expression shifting to something softer, more vulnerable.

She exhaled softly, her words barely a whisper. “She's upstairs. In our room. Alone. Trying to come up with something.”

The admission hung heavy in the air. A weighted silence fell—not the light, teasing kind they'd had earlier, but one that settled deep into the bones and made everything ache.

They all exchanged glances, unspoken worries and fears rippling across their faces like ripples in still water.

Vaggie turned back to them, her shoulders squaring with determination, her voice gentler but firm with quiet, almost desperate conviction. “She'll come through. I know she will. We just have to… be patient. Have faith.”

The kids responded not with agreement but with a collective groan that rolled through the room like a wave of despair. They slumped into their seats, demons with far too much history and far too little faith left to give.

And still, Vaggie stood—tired but absolutely unyielding—a lone spark of defiance holding fast to the fragile, almost desperate hope that Charlie's light hadn't died. That it couldn't have.

Charlie had been locked upstairs for hours with absolutely no sign of coming down. The silence in her absence was suffocating, pressing down on the hotel like a physical weight, like a heavy curtain that blocked out all light and hope.

Downstairs, the group had tried their best to distract themselves with a card game in the parlor. But even that small attempt at normalcy couldn't hold back the inevitable psychological collapse of their frayed nerves.

Finally, Angel snapped.

He slammed his cards down on the table with enough force to make them scatter, threw his arms up in exasperation, and shouted, “It's been hours! Is Charlie coming down or what?!”

His voice cracked with desperation, carrying through the empty halls like a ghost's wail.

Husk, seated nearby with a bottle clutched loosely in his paw, didn't even bother to look up. He took a long, deliberate sip, the faint clink of glass the only response to Angel's outburst. When he finally spoke, his tone dripped with resignation so thick it was suffocating, each word landing like a nail in a coffin.

“There's probably no plan,” he muttered darkly. “We're definitely doomed.”

That was all Pentious needed to completely lose it.

The snake demon immediately broke down, clutching at his scaled face as his whole body shuddered violently.

“Dooooom!” he wailed, rocking back and forth in his chair with theatrical flair. The sound was deliberately dramatic, but underneath it all, genuine terror trembled and shook.

Then Niffty, as if she'd been infected by the chaos like some kind of contagion, clapped her tiny hands together. Her manic grin stretched impossibly wide, her eyes shining with a delirious, almost unhinged light.

“Doom, doom, doom!” she sang out, her voice shrill and hollow. “Isn't this just fun?!”

Angel, however, wasn't laughing. Not even a little bit. The tension had absolutely broken him. His breaths came in short, sharp gasps, panic clawing at his chest. His clawed fingers dug into the table's edge hard enough to leave marks.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he rasped, his eyes darting wildly around the room like a trapped animal. “This is how it ends—we're gonna get shanked by a bunch of asshole angels!”

That was when Vaggie finally stepped in.

Her voice cut through the spiraling hysteria like a blade—calm, steady, grounding in the way only someone who'd been through actual war could manage. She approached the kids quickly, holding her hands out as if she were trying to rein in an actual storm.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey,” she said firmly, her single eye sharp but softened by something gentler, almost maternal. “We are not doomed, okay? Things aren't that bad yet. We just need to wait for Charlie.”

Her tone shifted then, becoming warmer, almost coaxing. “In the meantime, how about we grab some lunch? We can order your favorite food. Comfort food always helps—trust me on this one.”

They hesitated, exchanged uneasy glances, clearly torn between despair and the tiny glimmer of hope Vaggie was offering them. Slowly, one by one, they nodded and rose from their seats, trailing after Vaggie toward the kitchen.

Food wouldn't solve everything—it wouldn't fix the massive apocalypse-shaped problem hanging over their heads—but maybe, just maybe, it would keep the panic at bay long enough for Charlie to come back with a plan. Or at least a chance at a plan.

None of them noticed who stayed behind.

Alastor lingered in the parlor, standing perfectly still, his red eyes fixed unblinking on the staircase like he was waiting for something. Like he knew something. The shadows seemed to lean toward him, curling around him like eager, hungry companions.

A small, knowing smirk curved his lips as he watched them disappear toward the kitchen.

Then, without a single word, the Radio Demon dissolved into a plume of black smoke, dissipating into the air as if he had never been there at all.

Chapter Text

In Charlie and Vaggie's room, Charlie was curled up under the covers, quietly crying as Razzle and Dazzle sat on either side of her, gently nudging a box of tissues closer. Her eyes were red and swollen, her nose tinged pink from constant use.

After everything that had happened in Heaven, she was completely shattered.

Her girlfriend had lied to her for years. Adam was heading straight for her hotel. She had no idea what came next. Fear and doubt pressed down on her like an anchor she couldn't shake, dragging her deeper into the abyss.

Tears kept slipping down her cheeks in the suffocating silence—until Alastor stepped out of the shadows, striding casually to her bedside like he owned the moment.

“Wow, Charlie, you look like an absolute mess,” he commented with that particular brand of bluntness only a twelve-year-old Overlord could manage.

“Ugh, go away, Alastor.” Charlie's voice was muffled, buried somewhere beneath layers of blankets and despair. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

Unbothered—as always—Alastor plopped down on the edge of the bed with the casual confidence of someone who'd never been told no and gotten away with it.

“So, how long are you planning to mope around like this? Heaven is definitely coming after us now, especially since you picked a fight with them. Don't you think you should be doing something about it?”

Charlie popped her head out, her expression shifting from despair to irritation in a heartbeat. “Ugh! I get it! I messed up, okay? You don't need to keep rubbing it in!”

She let out a frustrated groan before diving back under the blanket, as if she could somehow disappear into the fabric itself.

“Everyone's waiting for you downstairs,” Alastor continued, his eyes gleaming with mischief that meant he was enjoying this far too much.

“They're expecting to hear that big plan of yours to save the day. You know, the one that's definitely going to work and definitely won't get us all killed.”

“THERE IS NO PLAN!” Charlie suddenly screamed, flinging the covers aside with enough force to startle both bodyguards.

She sat up abruptly, her horns flickering in and out of existence as her emotions spiraled. “There's no plan for anything! I can't think of a single way to get us out of this mess!”

She pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them so tightly she was practically folding in on herself. Her voice cracked with the weight of everything crushing down on her shoulders.

“I really messed up... How am I supposed to face them after letting them down so badly?”

Alastor just rolled onto his stomach, kicking his legs in the air. His disturbing smile is ever so present on his face.

“They came here to be saved, and all I gave them was more pain.” Charlie's voice cracked as despair absolutely clawed at her chest.

“I'm just as bad as the cruelest Overlord in Hell... maybe worse. At least they don't go around giving people false hope. At least they're honest about being monsters.”

Alastor burst into laughter, the sound like static crackling through an old radio. He clutched his stomach as if she'd just delivered the punchline of the century, his entire frame shaking with mirth.

Charlie turned to him, her expression shifting to complete bewilderment. “What's so funny? I gave everyone false hope—and I put them in danger!”

“You say that like false hope isn't currency down here,” Alastor said, sitting up.

“News flash, princess: this is Hell. False hope is practically the standard. Everyone does it—lying to others, lying to themselves. Kids do it, adults do it. It's normal down here. Expected, even.”

He looked her dead in the eyes, his grin still firmly in place but his voice carrying an edge of something that might have been sincerity.

“You're not doing anything different. You're just living in Hell like the rest of us.”

Charlie stared at him in disbelief, her mind struggling to process how he could say something so callous, so detached, so cruel with such casual ease.

She waved her hand in front of his face, frustrated beyond words. “How can you say all of this with a smile? How can you keep smiling after everything you've been through?”

Alastor rose from the bed with fluid grace, dusting off his shirt. His usual grin was plastered firmly across his face—the mask he wore so well that sometimes even he probably forgot what was underneath.

“Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what's going on underneath.”

He stepped toward the window, casting a long, deliberately ominous shadow across the room that seemed to stretch unnaturally across the walls.

“I told my mama that no matter what happened, I'd keep smiling. And I intended to keep that promise.” He twirled his mic between his fingers, the gesture almost meditative. “Eventually, I learned something.”

He paused for a moment. “Smiling is a valuable tool. It uplifts your allies, confuses your enemies, and reminds everyone—even yourself—that you're the one in control.”

He pointed the mic toward Charlie like a stage performer delivering his closing line with theatrical flair.

“But I'm not in control,” Charlie said, her voice so brittle it sounded like it might shatter into a thousand pieces.

She turned away, walking slowly toward the window, her gaze lingering on Hell's broken skyline as bitterness spilled from her lips like poison.

“I'm the farthest thing from in control. The one person I trusted most has been lying to me for years. Heaven won't listen to me. And even if they did…”

Her fists clenched so hard her nails dug crescents into her palms, drawing tiny beads of blood.

“I can't even prove the hotel works!”

She slammed her fists against the window, the glass reverberating with the sheer force of her frustration. The panes rattled dangerously, and for a moment, it looked like they might crack.

Part of her almost wanted them to.

“Adam has an invincible army of exorcists aimed right at our door—” She struck again, her voice raw and shattered. “—and there's NOTHING—NOTHING—I can do about ANY of it!”

Behind her, Alastor's smile sharpened into something almost predatory. This was it. This was the crack in the armor he'd been waiting for.

“I know something you don't know,” he said in a singsong voice, tilting his head with theatrical mischief.

Charlie turned, her brow furrowed, her breathing still ragged. “Huh?”

Alastor sauntered over, his grin never fading. He leaned in, voice almost conspiratorial.

“You know those big, scary angels? They're not as invincible as they seem.”

He began pacing casually around the room, each step deliberate, each movement calculated to keep her attention locked on him.

“What are you talking about?” Charlie's eyes followed his every step.

“I'm saying,” he toyed idly with the leaves of a potted plant on her shelf, crushing one delicately between his fingers, “we might have more of a fighting chance than you think.”

Charlie rushed up to him, her voice cracking with desperate urgency. “How? Please, I'll do anything!”

And there it was. The desperation. The willingness. The moment when a princess of Hell would agree to anything if it meant saving her hotel and the people she loved.

“Anything?” Alastor stopped, pivoting slowly to face her with glacial precision.

The playful gleam in his eyes returned, sharper now, more dangerous. He extended his hand. “Then... let's make a deal.”

Charlie hesitated, her eyes darting down to his outstretched hand with deep suspicion. “You... want my soul?”

Alastor chuckled darkly, a sound like static and distant screams. A flicker of eldritch power danced around him for flair—crimson light and shadow intertwining.

“Your soul? Oh, no thank you!” He flicked his hand dismissively. “I'm not stupid. Owning your soul is basically a death sentence in Hell. I quite enjoy being alive... again.”

He dropped the theatrics and held up two fingers, his expression becoming almost business-like. “I do, however, have two conditions.”

He lowered one finger. “First—whatever I tell you, you cannot hold me accountable for it. If this sparks persecution, political backlash, or starts an all-out war, you take the heat. Not me.”

Charlie nodded slowly, her mind spinning through the implications. As princess of Hell, she understood the stakes better than most. If there were consequences—and there would be—she'd be in a better position to survive them than a twelve-year-old sinner, no matter how powerful.

“Alright. I accept that.”

Alastor's smile widened, his grin becoming almost unnaturally wide.

“Second,” he lowered his other finger, “you owe me one no-questions-asked favor. Anything I ask, any time I ask it—no explanations needed. No negotiations. Just... compliance.”

Charlie stiffened, her entire body going rigid as the weight of that condition settled on her shoulders like a stone.

That was dangerous. That was incredibly dangerous. That was the kind of thing that could ruin her life if he decided to abuse it.

She fell quiet, her mind spinning as she turned over every possible implication in her head.

This was risky. Very risky. Possibly the riskiest thing she'd ever considered.

But she needed the information—something—to stand a chance against Adam and Heaven's army. Maybe she could negotiate some terms of her own. Maybe she could protect herself, her people, her children from whatever happened next.

After a long, thoughtful pause, Charlie spoke, her voice steady but gentle, like she was about to propose something radical.

“If I'm going to agree to this, I need to make sure that this favor won't cause any harm. No pain—short-term or long-term. I won't be part of anything that hurts someone, whether directly or indirectly. No one gets harmed—physically, mentally, or emotionally.”

She looked Alastor dead in the eye, her expression firm and absolutely sincere.

“And most importantly... that includes you. I promise not to hurt anyone. Not even you.”

Alastor blinked, his expression flickering for just a moment—a crack in his perfect composure. Of all the boundaries she could've set, including him in her no-harm clause wasn't one he'd seen coming. She'd actually thought this through—not just to protect herself or her people, but to protect him, too.

A child. Protecting a child. Even when that child was a demon who'd backed her into a corner.

For the first time in probably decades, Alastor didn't know how to react. There weren't many people in his life who'd ever tried to shield him from harm. Not really. Other than his mother... no one really had.

And he certainly never expected it from someone like Charlie..

Something strange and deeply unfamiliar flickered in his chest—something warm and confusing and absolutely terrifying.

Before he could process it, before he could make sense of the strange emotion blooming in his small demon heart, Charlie tilted her head. “Alastor? Are you alright?”

He shook the feeling off with a sharp blink, slipping back into his practiced mask with practiced ease.

The smile returned to his face like a light switching on. “I'm fine.”

Then, with a theatrical flourish that was entirely unnecessary but entirely Alastor, he extended his hand. “I accept the conditions you've laid out. If there's nothing else... Do we have a deal?”

Razzle and Dazzle growled protectively, both of them bristling as they watched Alastor's hand hover in the air like a trap waiting to snap shut. But Charlie raised a calm hand, silencing them.

With a deep breath, she let her horns emerge—an unspoken sign that she meant business, that she was channeling her royal authority—and reached forward. “Deal.”

The moment their hands clasped, everything exploded.

A sudden gust of ghostly green energy spiraled around the room in a vortex, reality itself seeming to bend and twist. The entire hotel trembled beneath the weight of the pact, the walls shaking like they were caught in an earthquake. Power crackled through the air, ancient and primal and absolutely undeniable.

Two powerful forces, bound together now by more than just words—royalty and radio demon, light and darkness, hope and cynicism. A deal forged in the very heart of Hell, sealed with the kind of magic that didn't forgive, didn't bend, and didn't break.

Down in the hotel lobby, Vaggie, Angel, Pentious, Niffty, and Husk stared wide-eyed as the ceiling above began to swirl with glowing voodoo symbols. Cracks of eerie green light spidered along the walls, humming with unstable energy that made everyone's teeth ache.

“No. No!” Vaggie gasped, her heart absolutely pounding in her chest.

She bolted toward the staircase without another word, panic flooding her senses in waves. Whatever was happening upstairs—whatever that deal was—it couldn't be good. She burst into the room she shared with Charlie, spear already in her hands, slamming the door open so hard it nearly bounced off the hinges.

“Right on cue!” Alastor chirped with a grin, still holding Charlie's hand tightly, like he'd been expecting this exact interruption.

“What did you do?! Let her go!” Vaggie roared, charging forward with her spear raised, every instinct screaming at her to protect Charlie, to save her, to get her away from this predatory child.

But before she could reach him, Charlie stepped in front of her.

“Vaggie, stop!” she cried, her arms out wide, shielding Alastor.

Vaggie skidded to a halt, disbelief written all over her face in stark capital letters. Her grip faltered, and the spear clattered to the floor with a metallic clang.

“No, Charlie... Please tell me you didn't—”

“I made a deal with Alastor,” Charlie said plainly, her voice calm but firm, like she'd already made peace with whatever consequences might come.

Vaggie's face paled, the color draining from her cheeks like water down a drain.

“Charlie…”

The name left her lips as barely more than a whisper, dread thick in her throat like oil. Did she really just give up her soul? Had Charlie really just walked into a deal with a twelve-year-old Overlord?

Alastor brushed past them casually, his smirk widening. “Don't get wound up, Naggy. She still owns her soul.”

Charlie turned back toward the window, her voice steady and determined, like she'd already thought through all of this and made her peace with it. “He gave me information—something that could save the hotel. But we're going to need help.”

Vaggie blinked, her mind still reeling. “Help? From who?”

“The angels can be defeated. And Carmilla is the key.” Charlie placed a hand on the windowpane, her gaze distant. “She killed an exorcist during the last extermination. She knows how they can be hurt.”

Vaggie staggered back a step, her mind absolutely spinning with the implications. “What? How is that even—” She faltered, her voice becoming smaller. “I didn't even know that was possible.”

Charlie turned to look at her sharply, and in her eyes was something that looked almost like hurt. “If you did... would you have told me?”

The question hit like a slap, hard enough to make Vaggie's breath catch in her throat. Vaggie's mouth opened, but no words came. The hurt in Charlie's voice stung worse than any argument they'd had before—worse than the revelation about Vaggie being a former exorcist, worse than the lies and secrets that had been piling up between them like walls.

Charlie reached down, picked up her jacket from the floor, and shrugged it on with purpose, her movements sharp and decisive.

“I'm heading to Carmilla's. I'm going to ask for the information. Maybe even get her to teach us. She still owes me a favor…” She paused, her voice taking on a harder edge. “And now's a good time to cash it in.”

“With just the seven of us?” Vaggie asked, disbelief absolutely creeping into her voice. “And most of them are kids. We can't just throw them into a war.”

Charlie nodded, and there was something almost maternal in the gesture, something that said she understood the weight of what she was asking. “I know. I'm not making them fight. Not if we can help it.”

Turf wars in Hell were one thing. But going toe-to-toe with Heaven? That was suicide. That was absolute, unquestionable suicide. And those exorcists didn't care who they killed—even children. Adam had proven that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Charlie sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

“No. We're gonna need numbers, too.”

She leaned against the windowsill, her eyes narrowed in thought as she worked through the problem. How were they going to build an army before Heaven came knocking? How were they going to protect a bunch of kids and vulnerable sinners from celestial forces?

That's when Alastor stepped between them. “I know someone who can help. But Charlie's going to have to be the one to convince her.”

He added with a casual shrug, his tone dripping with implications. “Since it's your hotel on the line, you—our fearless leader—need to speak to her directly.”

Charlie blinked, processing this new information. Then she turned to Vaggie with a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument.

“Looks like you're going to have to be the one heading to Carmilla. I need you to go to her. Convince her to teach us. If she agrees…” She paused, meeting Vaggie's eye. “We might actually stand a chance.”

Charlie crossed the room, grabbed a pen and the nearest scrap of paper, and scribbled a note with swift, practiced strokes—invoking the favor Carmilla owed her, explaining the need for training against exorcists.

Once finished, she folded the paper carefully and pressed it into Vaggie's palm with a look that said I'm sorry, but I need you to do this.

“Here. This explains everything. She'll know I'm serious.”

Vaggie glanced at the note, then tucked it into her pocket with a silent nod, her expression unreadable.

“Take Pentious with you. He might help sway her. And... if we're lucky, maybe she'll give us some weapons, too.” Charlie turned, resting a hand on Alastor's back, gently guiding him toward the door.

“We're going to meet Alastor's friend. If we can convince her to join us, it might be enough to boost our numbers.”

But just as Charlie reached the doorway, Vaggie stepped forward and gently caught her by the arm, tugging her back with barely contained desperation. “Charlie... can we talk about this—?”

Charlie hesitated, and for a moment, Vaggie saw something flicker in her eyes—pain, guilt, maybe even regret. But then it was gone, replaced by something more distant, more resolved.

“We'll talk later. Right now, there's work to do.” She pulled away slowly, her expression soft but distant in a way that broke Vaggie's heart all over again.

She moved to stand beside Alastor, who was already waiting with a wicked grin that suggested he'd been enjoying this entire dynamic.

Before leaving, she turned back one more time. “You with us?”

Vaggie exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand down her face as if she could physically wipe away her exhaustion and despair. “Yeah... I'm with you.”

She groaned softly as she fell in step behind them, following them toward what she was increasingly certain was a suicide mission.

Vaggie headed down the stairs, only to nearly bump directly into a very confused-looking Angel Dust.

“So-ho, uh... Alastor and Charlie just left like they were runnin' away from their responsibilities. Should we be alarmed?” Angel asked, his tone half-joking but with a real flicker of concern underneath.

“No. We have a plan. But... it involves defending ourselves against the angels.” Vaggie was already shifting into leader mode, her voice becoming steady and authoritative despite the chaos churning inside her chest.

Husk paused mid-sip, lowering his bottle slowly as he gave her a wide-eyed stare. “Uh—are you fuckin' high?”

“They can be killed—” Vaggie began, trying to keep her voice steady even as doubt clawed at her.

Frank, who'd been playing with the other Egg Bois and Keekee, suddenly piped up, his voice loud and oblivious. “Yeah! Boss's mom killed one!”

“WHAT?” Pentious shrieked, nearly choking on air. His eyes went wide, and his snake cape flared with the force of his flailing panic. “WHEN?!”

Vaggie dropped to one knee in front of Frank, her expression shifting to intense focus. “Wait—you knew about this?”

“Uh, yeah. I told Boss months ago,” Frank said casually, pointing Pentious like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Vaggie whipped around, fixing Pentious with a look that could've burned holes through walls. “He what?”

Pentious threw up his hands defensively, his entire frame vibrating with anxious energy.

“I was half-asleep when he told me! And they say insane shit all the time! How was I supposed to know this one wasn't, like, conspiracy garbage?!”

“Bank accounts are a scam created by the shadow government!” one of the Egg Bois declared from across the room, standing on a soapbox made of couch cushions with the confidence of someone absolutely convinced of their conspiracy theories.

Pentious gestured wildly in their direction, his exasperation clear. “SEE?!”

Vaggie groaned, rubbing her forehead. Now really wasn't the time to debate egg logic.

“Okay. Look—what matters is that we've got a fight coming. And this hotel?”

She glanced around the room, taking in the scared faces, the worried eyes, the children who'd been promised safety. "It's about to become the most dangerous place in all of Hell."

Her voice softened, but it didn't lose its strength or conviction. “I believe in Charlie. I believe this hotel can still work. But none of you signed up for this. And we are not asking you to fight.”

The kids went quiet, the weight of her words settling on their young shoulders.

“You need to leave. Find someplace safe. Anywhere but here.” She then turned toward Pentious, her expression becoming almost gentle.

"And I need you to come with me. We'll need your help convincing your mother to join our side. She might be more willing if her son is asking."

Pentious blinked, clearly not prepared for this kind of responsibility being placed on his small shoulders. “Uhhh... o-okayyy?”

He fell in line behind her as she made for the front door, the Egg Bois scuttling along after him. Before stepping out into the gloom, Vaggie turned back to the rest of the crew, her expression serious.

“Don't feel bad if you run. There's no shame in choosing your own safety. Charlie and I? We'll understand.”

She hesitated, and when she spoke again, her voice was softer—almost protective in a way that made it clear she was thinking of them as the children they were.

“And truthfully? We adults shouldn't be asking kids to fight our battles. It's our job to protect you. So don't worry about us—we'll manage.”

With that, she opened the door and stepped out into the gloom with Pentious by her side, both of them disappearing into the darkness.

The room was silent for a long moment, heavy with everything that had just been said and everything that was left unsaid.

“Well... this is awkward,” Angel muttered, glancing at the others with an expression somewhere between amusement and dread.

Niffty, ever the chipper one despite the chaos, just chirped brightly, “'Kay!”

Chapter Text

In Cannibal Town, Alastor walked beside Charlie, quietly tuning her out as she vented her frustrations—again—for what had to be the fifth time.

“Three years! Three years I've been sharing my life with her, and I tell her everything! My hopes, my dreams, my insecurities, my embarrassing habits—what fucking deodorant I like!”

She gestured animatedly while Alastor strolled beside her with his usual calm, offering the occasional polite hum to feign attention.

“And she keeps something like this from me? Why would she lie for so long? Did she think I wouldn't accept her? What about me says un-understanding? Misunderstanding? Dis-under? Wait, wh—?”

She suddenly paused, blinking as she finally took in their surroundings.

“…Where are we?” Charlie asked, her voice less angry now and more puzzled.

They were walking through a quaint, oddly picturesque part of Hell. The town looked like a slice of 1910s Americana—vintage buildings with ornate architecture, locals dressed in old-fashioned clothes, and even antique cars chugging along cracked cobblestone streets. In the town square sat a grand gazebo surrounded by blooming, thorny Hell Roses.

“Cannibal Town!” Alastor beamed, gesturing proudly. “That friend of mine is just around this corner!.”

Charlie hesitated. “In Cannibal Town? But it's—it's…”

She glanced around, taking in the pleasant, even charming atmosphere. “…Surprisingly nice here,” she admitted, caught off guard—especially for a town with cannibal in the name.

Alastor gave a pleased hum. He loved when people underestimated the place. It made the surprise all the better.

He guided her to a shop with ornate signage: Rosie's Emporium.

“Isn't it though? And it's all thanks to a very special someone.” He held the door open, letting Charlie step inside first.

The emporium was bustling, with a line of customers stretching down the showroom. At the front desk stood the Cannibal Overlord herself—radiating confidence and Southern charm—as she chatted animatedly with a nervous-looking woman.

“Well, who hasn't thought about eatin' their first husband?” the Overlord said brightly.

“I certainly would've—if he didn't taste so bad!” She chuckled, scribbling something down on her signature blood-red business card.

“Tell you what, honey—you bring ol' tall, dark, and armless to me, and I'll straighten him right out, okay, sweetie?”

She handed over the card with a wink. “So here's my card—”

Her voice caught as she looked up and noticed someone stepping into her store.

“Oh. My stars! Do my eyes deceive me?” Peeking through the crowd of cannibal clients, her eyes lit up. “Alastor?”

Her voice practically sang his name as she hurried forward. “Alastor! Where have you been, sugar? These halls have really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence!"”

She scooped the small demon boy up into a tight hug, twirling him once, her laughter echoing in the shop before setting him down and noticing he wasn't alone.

“And who's this you brought with you?” She raised an eyebrow with a smirk. “Come now, Alastor, she's much too old for you.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow and gave a playful eye roll.

The Overlord laughed and waved it off. “Oh, I'm just teasing. Even as a kid, I know you're an Ace in the hole.”

“…A what now?” Alastor blinked, completely lost.

“But where are your manners, young man? Introduce us, why don't you?” Rosie said with a teasing smile, stepping back to give Alastor the floor.

Alastor, ever the showman, raised his microphone with a flourish. Standing beside Charlie, he gestured toward the princess. “Ah, yes! Charlie, this is Rosie—”

Rosie gave Charlie a graceful curtsy the moment her name was mentioned.

“—the most charming, delightful, and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!”

Rosie was a striking figure—tall and slender, with pale gray skin and wide hips that gave her an elegant yet commanding presence. Her sharp-toothed grin was framed by black lips and soft, dusty-pink cheeks. Short white-and-gray curls shaped into a perfect 1910s bob framed her face, while her eyes were void of irises or pupils, just pure, glossy black.

Perched atop her head was a flamboyant sun hat—adorned with two skulls, dark burgundy floral decorations, and extravagant plumes in shades of black and reddish-pink. Her dress was a blend of pale maroon and burgundy, with puffed shoulders and stylish swirl patterns on a tall, black high collar.

Rosie giggled, clearly tickled by Alastor's compliments. “Oh! Always such a charmer, this one.”

“And Rosie, it is my honor to introduce you—” Alastor gave Charlie a gentle nudge forward, sending her a few steps toward Rosie. “—to Princess Charlie Morningstar. Daughter of Lucifer, and rightful heir to the throne of Hell!”

“H-How do you do?” Charlie offered a shy little wave, her nerves showing.

“Well, well! Isn't this a regal surprise?” Rosie beamed, absolutely delighted. “Come in, come in!”

She guided Charlie further inside, toward a cozy tea table set up beside her desk. “Can I offer you somethin' to eat? I'm sure I've got a leg around here somewhere…”

She opened one of her cabinets, casually browsing through her morbid snack stock.

“Oh, what am I thinkin'?” Rosie turned back and gave Charlie a playful poke in the stomach. “A tiny thing like you? You're probably watchin' your figure! How 'bout some nice pinkie fingers instead?”

She pulled out a box of severed pinkies, each one individually wrapped in frilly pink paper like candy.

“U-Um… No. No thank you, though,” Charlie replied politely, doing her best to keep her smile from twitching.

Alastor, meanwhile, helped himself to a handful of the pinkies, happily popping them into his mouth with a crunch.

Rosie chuckled and tucked the box away, then gently patted Charlie on the head.

“Oh, look at you! So polite! Alastor, you could learn a thing or two.” She gave the boy a look, hands on her hips, as he munched contentedly without a care in the world.

Without missing a beat, Rosie ushered Charlie toward a small sitting area. “Well, sit down, sugar. Sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you.”

She helped Charlie settle into one of the cushioned seats before taking the one across from her. Alastor wandered closer as Rosie shifted her attention to him.

“Ya know, Alastor, I got a primo connect with a bakery that needs an advert—and not one o' those obnoxious Vox ones, either. Prime pickin's for a little deal, my friend,” she said with a sly grin.

“I appreciate the offer,” he replied coolly, stepping back to Charlie's side. “But we're here on a different kind of business.”

Rosie raised a brow and leaned on the armrest of her chair, swirling her tea. “Well, don't keep me in suspense, sugar. I'm a very busy woman.”

Charlie fidgeted with her fingers, nerves dancing across her face. “Well, as you know…”

She hesitated—then everything spilled out all at once: “The extermination is coming early. It'll be here in a month, and they're—they're coming for my hotel and my friends first, and I—I—I—”

Seeing her start to panic, Alastor calmly stepped in. “We need your help. Or, rather—your cannibals' help—to fend off the attack.”

Rosie set down her teacup with an audible clink. She leaned forward, that playful smirk never leaving her lips. “When you ask for a favor, ya really don't start small, do ya, your highness?”

Charlie sank into her seat, clearly realizing how massive her request sounded out loud.

“Oh now, don't fret,” Rosie said, standing up with a chuckle. “I didn't say I wouldn't help.”

She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at Charlie with curiosity. “But I'm guessing there's more to this plan than a few unarmed cannibals charging in blind?”

Charlie, now a little more composed thanks to Alastor's support, stood up to face Rosie properly.

“Yes! We've found a way to hurt—maybe even kill—the angels. We won't be sitting ducks out there anymore. We can fight back!”

She placed a hand over her chest, her tone resolute. “If it's not too much to ask, I'd like to request your help—and your cannibals'—in preparing for the battle ahead. In a month, they'll be coming straight for the hotel.”

Rosie arched an eyebrow, impressed. There was real fire in the girl's voice now. Determination. Leadership. Moxie.

The Old Crow might've been right after all.

“Oh, I like that fire,” Rosie said with a smirk. “But me and the cannibals can't just help out willy-nilly. What's in it for us?”

Charlie blinked. She hadn't thought that far ahead. “Um… What do you guys want in return?”

Rosie tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Well... the angels. You said they can be killed, right?”

Charlie nodded.

“Then how 'bout this—” Rosie clapped her hands together, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“You let us cannibals collect the angel corpses from the battlefield. Finally get ourselves a taste of Heaven's finest, so to speak.”

Charlie paled a little. “Uh… sure?”

Rosie beamed. “Then it's a deal!”

Charlie stared at her, wide-eyed. “Really?”

“What can I say? I like your moxie, girl.” Rosie gave Charlie a playful elbow-nudge.

Then she glanced at Alastor and added with a fond smile, “And for Alastor to bring an adult to me?” She chuckled and shook her head. “That alone tells me how much he trusts you. And that's good enough for me.”

Charlie turned to Alastor, her eyes shining with gratitude, then back to Rosie.

She grabbed Rosie's hand in both of hers, practically bouncing on her heels. “OOOH! Thank you! Thank you, thank you!”

Pentious led Vaggie into the Carmine Company building, where he knew his mother was currently working. They stepped into the main foyer, a grand space resembling a lavish ballroom. Above them was a second-floor viewing area, lined with ornate railings that wrapped around the entire perimeter.

The room was dark and silent. The lights were off, and not a single soul seemed to be present.

“Pentious? What are you doing here?”

A voice cut through the quiet like a blade. A spotlight flickered on, illuminating Carmilla Carmine.

She stood on the second floor, one hand resting casually on the railing as she peered down at them with piercing eyes.

“Mom…” Pentious took a hesitant step forward, nerves twisting in his gut.

“Is it true?” His voice tightened. “That you killed an angel during the last Extermination Day? Is that why you, Odette, and Clara have been keeping secrets from me?”

Carmilla's eyes narrowed slightly—just enough to show she wasn't expecting that. Her gaze shifted to Vaggie at his side, and her expression sharpened.

Vaggie caught the intensity in her stare and instinctively straightened, trying not to flinch beneath the weight of Carmilla's scrutiny.

“Pentious. Go to your sisters and stay with them,” Carmilla said coolly, gesturing toward a door deeper within the building. “We'll speak later—after I've had a word with your friend.”

“But—” Pentious started, but Vaggie gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

She crouched to his level, her voice soft. “Pentious, listen to your mom.”

He opened his mouth to object, but she cut him off gently. “I've got this. It'll be okay, I promise.”

The little snake boy fidgeted, clearly torn. But with both adults insisting, he had no choice. He gave a reluctant nod and trudged toward the door—though not without one last glance back.

Vaggie offered him a reassuring nod, and he finally disappeared into the private quarters.

A heavy silence settled as they waited for the sound of Pentious's footsteps to fade.

Once it was clear he was out of earshot, Carmilla's voice rang out again, cold and sharp.

“You have two minutes to say your piece before I throw you out—and ban my son from ever setting foot near you or that ridiculous hotel again.”

Her words echoed throughout the vast room, dripping with authority and threat.

Vaggie didn't flinch. She stood tall and declared, “Miss Carmine, I'm here on behalf of Princess Charlie Morningstar to request your aid in Hell's defense against the upcoming extermination.”

She pulled a folded note from her pocket, quickly shaping it into a paper airplane and sending it soaring up to the second floor.

Carmilla caught it with two fingers and unfolded it without a word.

“We know you killed an angel,” Vaggie added. “We need to know how.”

Carmilla read the note. Then, without hesitation, she tore it to pieces.

“No,” she said flatly.

Vaggie's eyes went wide. “What do you mean no? The favor—”

“—Must not endanger my family or disrupt the balance of Hell,” Carmilla interrupted, leaning forward just enough to emphasize the weight of her words. “Helping you with this risks both.”

She crossed her arms. “If word gets out, war with Heaven becomes inevitable. Chaos erupts. My entire family is put at risk.”

A pause. “Ninety seconds.”

Vaggie snapped back, “But with your knowledge, we don't have to just stand there and die—”

“Clearly, I'm not the one helpless here,” Carmilla cut her off coolly. “And I'm not the one who picked a personal fight with Heaven.”

Another beat. “Seventy-five seconds.”

Vaggie's temper flared. “You think we wanted this? All Charlie's ever done is try to make things better! For everyone—including your people!”

Carmilla fired back without missing a beat. “And how's that working out for her?”

She tilted her head. “Forty seconds.”

Vaggie's voice shook—not from fear, but fury.

“We didn't choose this fight, but it's happening whether we like it or not. And once we're gone, it won't stop there. You didn't see the look on their leader's face.” She stepped forward, eyes burning. “This is personal. He'll come for the rest of you next.”

“They won't stop until all of Hell is wiped out. So you can help us make a stand here, together—or you can stand alone tomorrow.”

She pointed straight at Carmilla, her voice rising. “And what do you think your chances will be then?”

“And let's not forget—you fucking started this snowball. Killing an exorcist? You just gave them the perfect excuse on a fucking silver platter!”

A tense silence followed. Carmilla stared down at Vaggie for a long moment, her face unreadable.

Then, she murmured, “You're out of time.”

With a swift motion, she leaped from the second floor—landing hard in front of Vaggie—and threw a brutal kick straight into her chest. Vaggie hit the floor hard, sliding across the polished marble.

Carmilla stood over her, arms folded. “Angels attack swiftly. Viciously. Without mercy.” Her tone was icier than ever. “You'll need to defend yourself better than that.”

Back in Cannibal Town, Rosie stood tall with a megaphone in hand, her voice ringing through the streets like a carnival barker on a mission.

“Cannibals and Cannibettes, assemble in the square!” she bellowed, her amplified voice carrying across the old Americana town as she and Charlie made their way toward the gazebo.

She turned to Charlie with a sly grin. “Now, darling, you know I'd do anything—anything—for my clients. But I can't exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle.”

She lowered the megaphone slightly. “Don't get me wrong, they adore carnage and bloodshed—but to get this crowd into line, you've got to win 'em over. Make 'em want it.”

As they reached the gazebo, Rosie raised the megaphone again. “Settle in! Settle in! Important meeting!”

Within moments, the square filled with curious cannibals, mumbling and elbowing one another as they gathered before the stage.

Charlie, feeling the pressure creep up her spine, turned nervously to Rosie and whispered, “But how do I—?”

“With sparkle! Razzmatazz! And that oh-so-adorable moxie of yours,” Rosie interrupted with a wink.

Alastor, walking just behind them, chimed in with that ever-knowing grin. “Shouldn't be a problem. It's not like you've ever failed to inspire before.”

With that, he strolled confidently up the gazebo steps.

Charlie let out a soft groan and followed him up, Rosie trailing behind with a bemused smile.

“Now, fair warning. This group sticks together,” Rosie said as they climbed. “So in order to convince any of them, you'll need to convince all of them.”

She gestured toward the crowd of cannibals, her expression shifting to annoyance. “And there's one in particular—”

“Uuuuugh, Susan,” Alastor finished, his voice laced with genuine distaste.

Rosie scrunched her face. “Susan, who's a bit of an... uh—”

“Ornery old bitch?” Alastor added.

Charlie raised a brow at that. Alastor almost never cursed. If he was calling someone a bitch…

Rosie nodded. “That.” She leaned in to Charlie. “She's tough. But win her over, and the rest will follow.”

She met Charlie's eyes. “You ready?”

Charlie, glancing nervously at the sea of cannibal eyes, muttered, “I guess…”

Rosie didn't wait for more. She raised her megaphone and addressed the crowd, her voice booming across the square.

“Everyone! We have a very special, very royal guest this evening! Put your bloody hands together for Princess Charlie Morningstar!”

Charlie offered a small wave and a shy smile—only to be greeted by a sharp “Booo!”

“BOOOOO! Bring Rosie back!” a shrill voice shouted.

The crowd parted like the Red Sea, and there she was.

An ancient-looking cannibal lady, standing proudly with a dead ferret—or possibly a fox—draped dramatically around her shoulders. Her oversized glasses made her eyes look comically large, and she brandished her cane like a weapon. Her expression was a perfect blend of grumpy, crusty, and unamused.

Charlie blinked. “Susan?”

Rosie and Alastor exchanged a look, then replied in unison, deadpan: “Susan.”

Charlie fidgeted nervously with the mic on the stand, and a sharp screech of feedback suddenly blared through the speakers. The cannibal crowd winced and flinched.

“Sorry. Uh, okay, uh... my name's Charlie, and—” she began, voice shaky.

“BOOOOO! Get off the stage, you blue-blood bitch! Boo!” Susan's voice cut through the air like a rusty saw.

Charlie stumbled slightly but tried to push on. “Well, I run this hotel with my part—well, someone, and... Wait, let me start over.”

“We don't give a shit about some hotel!” Susan fired back before Charlie could continue.

Charlie pushed forward, trying to keep her composure. “Angels are coming to kill us all, and we need help defending our realm. So—we, uh... we need your help—”

But Susan wasn't letting up. “Leave before I eat those big-ass eyes of yours! Boo! Get off!”

“With your assistance, we can make a stand for—”

“GET OFF!” Susan shrieked. “Where's the showmanship? Where's all the finesse?!”

Charlie swallowed hard, trying to keep herself grounded as Susan's heckling grew louder and more aggressive.

“I... I have a dream and I—” She shifted tactics, hoping a song might win them over. She began to sing.

But Susan just roared over her, “Fucking mediocre!”

That was the last straw.

Charlie's composure shattered. She threw up her middle finger and shouted at the top of her lungs, “FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH!”

The entire crowd gasped—an audible ohhhh! sweeping through the cannibal masses as their eyes went wide in shock. A beat of stunned silence followed.

Rosie, quick on her feet, stepped forward with her megaphone and a wide, dazzling smile. “Okay! We'll be back after a brief intermission!”

Without skipping a beat, she swooped in and pulled Charlie off the stage and into her store, the door swinging shut behind them.

Meanwhile, the crowd began murmuring among themselves, eyebrows raised, curiosity piqued. The princess of Hell had just cursed out their most feared elder—and now they wanted to know what the hell was going on.

Bonus:

Meanwhile, Susan spotted Alastor lingering on the gazebo stage and immediately yelled out, “Alastor, is that you?! Where have you been?! Too busy to visit your grandmother?!”

Alastor groaned, rolling his eyes before shouting back, “For the last time, you bitch! I'm not your grandson!”

“Is that any way to talk to the one who fed you?! You ungrateful brat! I even let you stay with me!” Susan snapped, waving her cane in his direction.

“Again! That wasn't me! It was a feral fox that wandered into your house! You even wear him around your neck!” Alastor retorted, pointing accusingly at the dead animal draped like a scarf around her shoulders.

“I don't see a difference!” Susan barked back without a shred of shame.

Alastor just sighed and rolled his eyes again, deciding there was absolutely no point in arguing with her anymore. He turned away and pointedly ignored her as she continued muttering nonsense in the background.

Chapter Text

In the Carmine building, Vaggie and Carmilla went head-to-head. Vaggie swung her spear at Carmilla—but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't land a hit. Every strike missed its mark.

With a swift movement, Carmilla slammed Vaggie against a pillar. The moment Vaggie hit the ground, she was already pushing herself up and charging back in.

Carmilla sidestepped effortlessly and swept her to the floor with a graceful, punishing kick.

Vaggie groaned and scrambled to her feet, only to be knocked down again. She barely raised her spear before another blow sent her crashing to the floor.

“Fuck! Ow!” Vaggie cursed as Carmilla's kicks connected repeatedly.

She growled, dragging herself up once more. She leaped, swinging twice in quick succession, but Carmilla danced around both strikes and knocked her down again.

“Come on, what is this?” Vaggie groaned from the ground, her body aching.

“You want me to teach you how to beat angels?” Carmilla asked coolly, circling her. “That's what I'm doing.”

Vaggie grabbed her spear and charged again, gritting her teeth. “By beating the shit out of me?! I'm not even used to fighting with long hair!”

Carmilla casually removed her hairnet, letting her thick, wavy hair fall freely around her shoulders.

“By showing you the flaws in your fighting style.”

Even with her hair down, Carmilla dodged Vaggie's attack effortlessly—then landed several solid kicks in return.

“Yours... and all your sisters'.”

Vaggie stopped suddenly, blinking in disbelief. “Wait—does everyone know I'm an exorcist?!”

Carmilla raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “It's pretty obvious. Anyone with a brain and half a sense could tell. Even my son knew the moment he laid eyes on you.”

Vaggie tightened her grip on the spear as Carmilla approached.

“Before you found out about me,” Carmilla asked, her tone serious, “did you know angels could be harmed?”

“No,” Vaggie admitted, raising her spear, ready to charge again.

Carmilla aimed a kick, but this time Vaggie narrowly dodged it. She countered fast with a knee—and it landed.

Carmilla stumbled slightly but didn't falter. “That shows in how you fight.”

Vaggie collapsed to the floor again, breathless.

Carmilla kicked Vaggie's spear back to her. “You leave yourself open with every swing.”

“You fight like someone unafraid of harm.” She narrowed her eyes. “And that is exactly what you will exploit.”

She paced around Vaggie, her voice calm but laced with authority. “Angels are overconfident. That arrogance is their biggest weakness—and your hotel's greatest advantage.”

“They wield no shields, wear little armor, and fight with reckless abandon.”

“Strike them here.” Carmilla punctuated her words with a swift kick under Vaggie's chin.

“Here.” Another kick to the back of her neck.

“And here.” A final blow to the shoulder sent Vaggie tumbling to the floor.

“Argh! With what?!” Vaggie groaned, clutching her shoulder. “Some secret weapon of yours?”

Carmilla scoffed. “Stupid girl. Are you really so dense you haven't realized—you're holding the answer?”

Vaggie blinked, glancing at her spear. “Angelic weapons? Is it really that simple?” She let out a half-disbelieving scoff. “How has no one else figured this out?”

“Because angelic steel isn't exactly common,” Carmilla replied coolly. “And the few who have it? Not exactly eager to test it against the ones it was forged to kill.”

A flashback began—harsh and vivid.

Carmilla and her daughters fled through the chaos of the last extermination, darting between alleys and crumbling ruins, trying to avoid the angels overhead. But their luck ran out—three exorcists cornered them.

“When my daughters and I were cornered in that last extermination, I tried to buy time for my girls to flee and, well…”

She stepped in front of her daughters, arms outstretched, shielding them from the advancing exorcists. Her eyes stayed locked on the threat as she shouted for them to run.

One exorcist took to the sky, diving straight toward her like a blazing missile.

“You don't become an angelic arms dealer without arming yourself first.”

The memory sharpened. Carmilla jumped.

Her boots gleamed with divine metal—angelic steel. The moment she landed, there was a flash of silver and a spray of blood. In one brutal, elegant motion, she sliced clean through the exorcist's neck.

The body hit the ground before the head did.

In the present, Carmilla began to sing while she taught Vaggie how to take on the angels.

“I see you're driven by your detestation,” Carmilla sang. “Your every step is stoked with animus.”

Carmilla danced and leaped across the ballroom, imitating the exorcists' ability to fly through the air. She reminded Vaggie to keep this in mind during battle—many of Hell's troops couldn't fly.

“You need a different type of motivation,”

“Or there's no way that you can handle this”

She also pointed out that Vaggie needed stronger motivation than revenge to truly hold her ground. Anger over her past alone wouldn't be enough on the battlefield.

“I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie,” Carmilla sang as she approached with a light step. “You're out for blood!”

“But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love!”

As the sparring continued, Carmilla wove her dance moves seamlessly into her fighting, charging at Vaggie with flair. Vaggie managed to dodge, but still struggled to land a hit.

“Think of who you care about,” Carmilla sang as she grabbed Vaggie's spear and flung her across the room. “Protect them and be out—”

"For love~"

Carmilla continued to dance and sing while she fought, blending elegance and combat. Vaggie kept avoiding the blows, adapting little by little.

“Fuel yourself with the fear of losin' that somebody who's your reason to live.”

Carmilla spoke between verses, telling Vaggie that hatred wouldn't carry her far. She urged her to think about what she'd do if Charlie were in danger. Would she really just stand by?

“Harness your heart, and you can't help choosin' to fight with all you can give.”

As the spar continued, Vaggie began to pick up Carmilla's rhythm. She started dodging more fluidly, her movements taking on a graceful edge—learning Carmilla's style in real time.

“Think of who you care about,”

Carmilla sang as they made their way up the stairs, the sparring turning into something more like a dance. Their strikes and counters flowed naturally.

“Protect them and be out—”

“For love~”

Carmilla flipped down the staircase, effortlessly evading Vaggie's attacks.

“You're gonna fight without gloves,”

Vaggie slid down the railing in pursuit, eyes locked on her.

“And when that push comes to shove,”

At the end of the railing, Vaggie leaped into the air and flipped.

“Yeah, you just might rise above,”

As she spun midair, a fresh pair of wings sprouted from her back.

“Long as you're out for love!”

As the final note rang out, Carmilla watched with a proud smile as Vaggie glided down on her new wings.

“Well, look at that. You might just survive this.” she commented with a small smile.

Vaggie landed smoothly.

Her voice steady with newfound confidence, Vaggie replied, “We're going to need more weapons.”

In Cannibal Town, Rosie invited Charlie to her room for a talk. She drew the drapes shut so the two of them could have a private conversation.

“Alright, what has you so out of sorts, darlin'? You clearly got more on your mind than angels.”

Rosie opened up the conversation, sensing that Charlie's thoughts went way beyond just the early exterminations.

Charlie let out a heavy sigh. “What do you do when a loved one lies about who they are?”

“Romance? My specialty!” Rosie exclaimed with a grin as she approached. “Come on, dearie. Details, details!”

“My girlfriend is an Exorcist angel… and she never told me,” Charlie admitted quietly, wrapping her arms around herself. Her voice wavered with confusion.

“Oh, shit! Quite a secret,” Rosie replied, her eyebrows lifting. “How does that make you feel?”

Charlie groaned, struggling to find the right words.

“Just… angry. Because we share everything. Because she always supported me and my ideas, and—and—now…”

Charlie trailed off as she walked over to Rosie's couch, her emotions rising with each word.

“I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies!” she burst out, then gasped at her own words. “Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I really think that?”

“Yes! N-no. Kinda?”

She flopped down onto the couch, letting out a few helpless whimpers as tears began to form. She covered her face with her hands, overwhelmed by the swirling mix of thoughts and emotions.

“You said you love this girl?” Rosie asked gently.

“Yes. Or well, I…” Charlie hesitated, her voice trembling, but then—softly, and sincerely—

“Yes.”

Rosie sat beside her. “Have you ever once doubted that she loved you in return?”

Charlie shook her head.

“Well then, what's the problem?”

“She took part in the very thing we've been working so hard to end!” Charlie leaned forward, hands clutched together. Her voice cracked. “She did the things I've been trying to stop since the beginning…”

Rosie rested a hand on her chin, then raised an eyebrow. “Well, isn't that silly hotel of yours all about redemption?”

Charlie gave a little nod.

“Then perhaps this girl was trying to redeem herself too.”

Charlie whispered, “She knows better than anyone that I believe in second chances. So why not tell me?”

Rosie's tone softened. “It can be difficult to admit to the things you're not proud of, especially when those things could hurt someone you love.”

“She fucked up, sure. She's flawed.” Rosie placed a hand on Charlie's shoulder. “But hey… who down here isn't?”

She leaned in slightly. “If there's anything I've learned, it's that words are cheap. But actions—they speak the truth.”

She turned to Charlie with a knowing look. “So… what have her actions said?”

Charlie paused and thought about it. Really thought about it.

“That she believes in me. And what we're doing.” She took a breath. “Right now, she's off learning how to protect everything we've worked for.”

She let out a deep, weary sigh. “And I can't even pitch my hotel right…”

Rosie tilted her head. “Well, how do you normally explain your hotel?”

“By singing,” Charlie admitted with a slight cringe. “But that never works.”

“It will work here. Trust me.” Rosie winked, sounding absolutely sure.

Rosie and Charlie headed back to the gazebo in the heart of Cannibal Town's square. As they made their way onto the stage, Charlie felt a wave of nerves creeping in—her confidence still shaky.

Alastor handed Charlie his mic with a warm, encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Charlie took it, clutching it a little tighter than usual, and exhaled deeply as she turned to face the crowd.

“Have you ever wanted something,” Charlie began to sing, her voice soft but steady, “that was so clear in your mind you could taste it?”

“You mean like human flesh?” Susan called out from the crowd.

“Eugh, sort of,” Charlie replied awkwardly before continuing to sing.

“It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut that you could finally be faced with—a billion needy faces... I guess what I mean to say is—”

Her nerves began to melt away, each note grounding her a little more. The music was carrying her now.

“For the first time in my life, I might have to be ready for this.”

For the very first time, she felt the weight—and the power—of being a real leader. The kind who fights for her people.

“Ready to be the one who's leading from the front,” she belted out, her voice growing bolder. “Gotta come into my own, gotta take charge and defend my only home.”

She knew, without a doubt, that she needed to rise to the challenge. To embrace her role as Princess of Hell and protect the very place she called home.

“And although I kinda feel unsteady…” She met the eyes of the crowd, her heart in her voice. “Now I need to be ready for this.”

Charlie stepped down the stairs and walked straight into the crowd, singing with purpose.

“Have you ever felt like you're willing to die to save the people of your city?”

“By die, do you mean use my teeth to rip flesh apart?” Susan asked again, ever chipper.

Charlie shot her a look. “That's a start!”

“'Cause right now, we need a leader, and it seems to me that destiny has picked me to be that. If you'll permit me—so who's with me?”

She twirled into the center of the square, dancing and spinning, pulling the crowd's energy with her.

“Wouldn't it be super to see more of Hell?” she sang, beckoning the cannibals closer. “Join up now if you like travel!”

“Come on boys, hop in the saddle!” She grabbed two nearby cannibal guys and pulled them into a lively tap-dance routine. “Lotta sights to see en route to my hotel.”

The cannibals were now watching closely, lured in by her charm and rhythm.

“Not to mention the camaraderie~” She twirled again, now surrounded by clapping and cheers. “Yes siree! You'll form life-changing friendships with the folks along the way!”

Alastor jumped in cheerfully with his verse, “And feast on all the angels you can eat!”

The promise of a heavenly buffet clearly got their attention.

“Okay…” Charlie sang a bit awkwardly in response, but kept going.

Once the crowd heard there'd be angel meat on the menu, excitement bubbled over.

“Free food? I'm in!” a bunch of voices shouted, as the energy shifted and the crowd started rallying behind her.

Soon, the cannibals were all singing and dancing together, fully caught up in the moment.

“It's time now to act! They're on the attack! When they move to strike, we will fight biting back!”

Charlie's heart swelled—her plan was working. The cannibals were actually with her! Alastor reclaimed his mic, while Rosie passed Charlie a parade stick.

“We'll follow your lead, we're eager to feed!” the crowd sang in unison.

Drool dripped from the corners of a few mouths at the thought of angel wings and holy meat.

“We'll sharpen our teeth for the heavenly feast!”

Then, with a showy tip of their hats, the cannibals bowed toward Charlie in unison, pledging their support.

“From this moment on, you can count on us to be resolute and ravenous!”

Even the cannibal kids joined in, pulling out forks and knives, practically vibrating with anticipation.

“Our appetites are wet, and we're set to seize the day! So I say—oh hey! Come join the flesh buffet!”

Charlie, overwhelmed by their bloodthirsty enthusiasm, sang with a strained smile, “Well, that's a little violent… can we… tone it down?”

She gestured with her hands, signaling for them to dial it back.

“Oh, don't be put off by their snarlin',” Rosie sang sweetly, gesturing toward the pack of smiling maniacs. “That's enthusiasm, darlin'!”

Charlie looked out at the crowd again—cannibals laughing, singing, showing off their weapons. “Ehh… they just seem a little murdery right now.”

“Don't worry, honey,” Rosie sang back. “That's their thing, keep singing!”

Charlie and Rosie harmonized: “We're super duper grateful to have you folks aboard!”

The crowd swayed and sang: “We can't wait to taste an angel's wings~!”

Charlie groaned, clutching her forehead. “Oh Lord…”

“For the first time in my life… maybe I can be ready for this.”

Charlie began leading the crowd back toward her hotel. Two cannibals eagerly scooped her up, carrying her on their shoulders as the whole group marched down the road with energy and purpose.

“I can be the marshal leading the parade. I can come into my own, and I think I've always known, my destiny could never be postponed.”

She lifted her eyes toward Heaven, glowing faintly in the sky above. Her face hardened with resolve.

“When Adam brings the battle here, I must appear like I'm ready for this.”

She knew that when Adam and his angelic army arrived in a month, she'd need to be more than a dreamer—she'd have to be a defender. A leader.

From behind, Rosie watched her with pride.

“They're dancing along, they're singing her song!” Rosie sang with a smile, watching as Charlie led the cannibals down the road.

“Surprised?” Alastor sang with a playful tilt of his head. “Why, I knew she could do it all along!”

Together, they harmonized, watching Charlie shine.

“She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell, like her daddy, she is madly power-fell!”

Rosie twirled her parasol with a smirk. “There's so much potential just waiting to be guide.”

“I concur,” Alastor sang, stepping in beside her. “Stick with her, you'll be on the winning side!”

The whole crowd, Rosie and Alastor included, lifted their voices in unison:

“For the first time in our lives, we know that we are ready for this!”

“We'll show Heaven a fight they won't forget!” Rosie sang loud and proud.

“It's time to take a stand!” the crowd joined in.

“It is time to lend a hand!” Charlie added, raising her parade staff high. “Against the angels and their deadly threat!”

The energy built as they moved, a living wave of voices and fire marching toward the future.

“We cannot take it anymore—the time has come to go to war!”

The march continued through the streets, full of rhythm, fury, and resolve. The townsfolk sang with all they had, fired up for the battle ahead.

“Prepare to fight, we're ready for…”

Charlie pushed her way to the very front, staff in hand, her eyes blazing with determination.

“THIIISSS!”

Then, with the music softening just for a beat, she sang to herself, her voice touched with a hint of vulnerability:

“I really hope that I'm ready for this…”

Chapter Text

At the hotel gate, Charlie came in from the left, leading a whole army of cannibals. From the right, Vaggie rolled in with Sir Pentious and his sisters, hauling crates stacked high with weapons. The two girls paused at the front gate, locking eyes.

For a moment, silence hung between them—until Vaggie finally spoke.

“Looks like you had a busy day,” she said, eyeing the mob of cannibals Charlie had somehow convinced to join them.

“You too,” Charlie replied, glancing over at the crates of Carmine weapons and giving a small wave to Sir Pentious.

“Charlie, I—” Vaggie started, clearly wanting to talk, to explain, to say something.

“Hold that thought,” Charlie cut in gently before Vaggie could continue. She fished around in her pocket for a moment. “Err… ah!”

She pulled out a small voodoo severed head keychain and held it out. “Got you a souvenir from Cannibal Town.”

Vaggie stared at it—and immediately teared up, understanding exactly what Charlie meant without another word. It wasn’t just a keychain. It was an olive branch. An apology. A promise that they were okay.

“Oh, Charlie…” she whispered, then rushed in for a tight, heartfelt hug.

“The wings are new,” Charlie said softly, running her fingers over Vaggie’s feathers with a gentle touch that made Vaggie’s breath hitch. “They look nice~”

She smiled warmly, her eyes bright despite everything they’d been through. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

The two girls, side by side and finally at peace, walked back through the hotel gates together—right where they belonged.

Inside, they were met with the sounds of hammering, laughter, and constant movement. Angel Dust, Niffty, and Husk—the kids they’d taken in—worked alongside Alastor’s shadow minions to prepare the hotel for war. Windows were being boarded up. Sofas and cushions were scattered across the floor to absorb blasts. Everyone had a job, and everyone was busy.

From the second-floor landing, they spotted Angel Dust barking instructions to the minions like some kind of teenage foreman who’d watched too many construction shows. Husk was off to the side, nailing boards into the windows with slow but steady effort, his usual grumpy expression firmly in place.

“Yeah, yeah, fortify that,” Angel muttered to a shadow minion.

Then he spotted Charlie and Vaggie near the staircase and leaned over the railing with a cocky grin that was far too confident for a kid his age.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up. We thought we were fightin’ this battle without ya.”

He slung his arms around Niffty and Husk and pulled them close with theatrical flair. “Tell ‘em.”

Vaggie stared, stunned. “You’re… you’re still here? You’re going to fight…?”

Her voice cracked just a little. She’d expected them to leave—to run away like any sensible kid would. Who could blame them?

Suddenly, Alastor appeared right between them—startling both girls—before vanishing and reappearing on the second-floor railing like nothing happened, that perpetual grin plastered on his young face.

“Of course we’re going to fight!” he said, grinning ear to ear with unsettling enthusiasm that reminded them he was still very much a child of Hell. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. We can’t let you have all the fun!”

“I just got used to you guys,” Husk scoffed, folding his arms with a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Despite his tough exterior, he was still just a kid who’d found something worth holding onto. “I ain’t findin’ new drinkin’ buddies.”

“I’ve named all the stains on the carpet!” Niffty piped up, cheerful as ever, bouncing on her feet with childlike energy.

She pointed at a particularly questionable stain with pride. “That one’s Fred.”

“But—” Charlie started, clearly uneasy about dragging the kids into this mess.

These children. These young kids who’d already been through so much. Her heart ached at the thought of putting them in danger.

“No buts,” Angel interrupted sharply, his expression hardening with a determination that made him seem older than his years. “From what ya said, Adam is coming for us, like it or not.”

“If we don’t fight him now, we’ll still have to fight him later. So why not do it here, while we’re together?”

He stepped forward, eyes sharp with conviction—and something else. Something fierce and protective that made Charlie’s chest tighten. Despite being a tween, he stood there like he was ready to take on Heaven itself.

“We’re gonna fight. Whether you like it or not. We’re not cowards—we’re not backing down. We’ll face them head-on!”

The kids behind him cheered in agreement, their young voices rising with pride and defiance. They’d made their choice. They were standing their ground.

For her. For each other. For the home they’d built together.

Charlie felt tears sting her eyes. She was overwhelmed by their strength, their loyalty… their love.

These kids—these brave, stubborn, wonderful kids who refused to give up.

She’d never felt luckier than she did right now, surrounded by these strange, brave, wonderful souls who’d become so much more than just residents of her hotel.

They were her family. Her responsibility. Her children in every way that mattered.

She wiped her eyes quickly with her sleeve and grabbed Vaggie’s hands, squeezing them tightly as if anchoring herself.

They both looked out at the ragtag group—demon kids, teenagers, cannibals, and all—and felt something powerful settle in their chests.

Hope. Determination. Unity.

Charlie smiled through her tears, her voice steady despite the emotion threatening to spill over. “Well… looks like we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

It was going to be a busy month at the hotel. No doubt about it.

But they’d face it together—two adults and a bunch of kids against Heaven’s army.

Somehow, that felt right.

At the same time, Adam and Lute were having a private conversation in Heaven. Adam was furious—seething with a rage that made the air around him practically crackle. Sera had just given him a serious talking-to and, to his utter humiliation, ordered him not to leave the building. She’d officially put him on lockdown.

Like some kind of misbehaving child.

To make matters worse, Heaven itself was in a state of unrest.

Rumors were spreading like wildfire: some of the “winners” were starting to regain memories that had been blocked. They were experiencing strange flashbacks—vague, foggy recollections that left them unsettled and confused.

More and more were beginning to question things they’d never dared to ask before… like whether they’d had children while they were alive.

Some winners recalled siblings or friends who died young—children they hadn’t seen in Heaven. Now, they were starting to wonder:

Where were they? Why hadn’t they appeared?

The questions hung in the air like poison, spreading doubt and fear through the supposedly perfect paradise.

Many had reached out to Sera and Emily for answers, but their pleas had been met with silence. At Sera’s request, Emily was keeping it all under wraps until Sera could figure out a solution.

But anxiety was thick in the air, and the streets of Heaven felt more tense by the day—like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

Sera wasn’t sure why the memories were resurfacing, but the timing was suspicious. It had only started happening after the trial with the Princess of Hell.

Something about that hearing may have triggered it. She just didn’t know how.

Between the fallout from the extermination and the return of these painful memories, Heaven was spinning into disarray. The angels were scattered, frantically trying to manage the chaos and maintain order in a realm that was supposed to be beyond such earthly troubles.

With no one left to supervise them, Adam and Lute were left completely alone.

And to top it off—angels weren’t exactly thrilled with Adam anymore.

Where once he’d been revered as the First Man, now he was treated with cold stares and whispers that followed him like shadows. Suspicion. Disdain. Many were angry about his reckless handling of souls—even souls from Hell.

They thought he was careless, dangerous, and foolish.

Worse? He was being blamed for attacking a place that sheltered children.

Children.

The problem was, Adam didn’t see children. Not really. To him, any soul from Hell was trash—corrupted, unsalvageable, and not worth sparing. They’d made their choices. They deserved what they got.

Now, Sera had issued her final blow: a full suspension of the early extermination.

She’d ordered him to stand down. No missions. No angelic wrath. Nothing for the next month while she consulted with the Angelic Council.

Every exorcist operation was to be put on hold until further notice.

Adam’s hands clenched into fists at the memory.

“Fuck Sera. Fuck the Council. And most of all—!” Adam slammed his fist into the table, his voice booming through the empty room with enough force to make the walls shake.

“Fuck that meddling Lucifer’s brat!”

“Because of that prissy bitch, I—the First Man—am actually getting suspended!” His voice roared, but only Lute heard it. She was the only one left willing to listen. The only one who still believed in him.

Adam paced like a caged beast, his rage barely contained beneath the surface. He blamed everything on Charlie. If she hadn’t stuck her nose into his business, none of this would’ve happened.

Heaven would still be running smoothly. The exterminations would continue without question. And he wouldn’t be stuck in this humiliating position.

“And now because of her sob show, the Council is buying into this crying-children-in-Hell bullshit!” he snarled, turning to Lute with wild eyes behind his mask.

“Don’t they know better? You can’t trust demons! They use every dirty trick in the book—pulling at your heartstrings, pretending to be victims. It’s all lies!”

“Yes!” Lute snapped, just as outraged, her loyalty to Adam burning fierce and unwavering. “It’s despicable of that princess to use children to manipulate the Council’s sympathy! Classic Hell-born deception!”

“And now the winners are getting their memories back!” Adam threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Why the hell would they want to remember their demon-spawn kids?”

“There’s no point,” he sneered with disgust. “Hell is forever. They’re never going to see them again. It’s better to forget.”

Easier to move on. To accept their fate.

“That hellspawn has infected Heaven like a virus,” Lute growled as she paced, her movements sharp and agitated.

“A virus that’s spreading. Infecting minds. Undermining everything we built. Everything we sacrificed for peace!”

She stopped and turned toward Adam, fire blazing in her eyes—the kind of fire that matched his own fury. “We need to do something about it.”

Adam went quiet, settling into his chair with his chin resting on folded hands. He sat there, thinking… calculating… until suddenly, he snapped his fingers.

A cruel, slow smile spread beneath his mask—the kind of smile that promised pain.

He turned to his lieutenant, his most loyal soldier. “Lute, gather the girls in secret. We’re still going to that bitch’s hotel in a month.”

“But, sir,” Lute replied, cautious despite her agreement, “the High Seraphim has suspended all extermination activities.”

“True,” Adam acknowledged with a dismissive wave, “but that’s only because the Council made a big stink about it. Sera had to put the exterminations on hold just to keep them happy.”

He sneered beneath his mask.

“And it’s all because of those two cunts meddling with their stupid hotel. They’re the reason the Council suddenly feels all soft and sentimental with their talk of ‘redemption’ and ‘second chances.’”

“Pathetic.”

Adam stood and strode toward the window with purpose. He stared out over Heaven, eyes narrowing as they settled on the Gate—the barrier between paradise and the filth below.

“All we have to do is destroy that place. Kill everyone inside that hotel—including the traitor Vaggie. That’ll break the princess’s spirit. She won’t dare try something like this again.”

He turned back to Lute, face full of cruel certainty and satisfaction.

“And once there’s no more interference from Hell—or that brat—I’ll sweet-talk Sera into putting everything back where it belongs. She’ll fix it. All she has to do is block the winners’ memories again. Easy.”

He snapped his fingers with confidence. “And just like that—no more problems. Heaven goes back to the way it should be.”

Lute raised a brow, her tactical mind already working through the plan. “Will the High Seraphim really agree to that so easily?”

Adam chuckled darkly, the sound low and dangerous. “Of course she will. Sera’s terrified of change. She’ll do anything to keep things the way they were—calm, controlled, ignorant.”

“Eventually, people will lose interest in Hell again. They’ll forget. They’ll accept that sinners have nothing to do with them—and that Hell is just trash Heaven has to clean up.”

He started pacing, his boots echoing through the chamber with rhythmic menace. His mind raced, vision sharpening into cruel focus.

All he needed to do was destroy that hotel. Break her—shatter her the same way Lucifer had been broken all those years ago.

Once Charlie felt that same kind of pain, that same hopelessness, she’d fall just like him. She’d end up locked away, rotting in some corner of Hell, forgotten by everyone—a cautionary tale about what happens when you challenge Heaven’s authority.

Sera wouldn’t be a problem. Not now. She and Emily were drowning in questions as more winners started to remember. Their hands were tied, and they were too busy putting out fires to notice what he was planning.

It was the perfect time to strike.

Adam stopped pacing and turned to Lute, his eyes burning behind the mask with unholy determination.

“Get the girls ready. Have them gather outside the Gate in secret—one month from now. Arm them with everything we’ve got. When we’re done, there’ll be nothing left but dust.”

Lute saluted sharply, her expression fierce with anticipation, and headed out—disappearing into the corridors to gather the exorcists in secret.

Adam’s grin spread wide under his mask, predatory and victorious. Victory was within reach. And he couldn’t wait to shove it in that little princess’s face.

She thought she could beat him?

She had no idea who she was dealing with.

He was the First Man. The original. The one who’d been there since the beginning.

And he always got the last word.

Always.

Chapter Text

In the weeks leading up to the early extermination, the Hazbins and the cannibals had been gearing up for battle. They’d strengthened the hotel, trained relentlessly, and developed new strategies for the upcoming fight. Best of all, Angel had convinced Cherri Bomb to join their cause—a feat that had taken considerably more begging than he cared to admit.

There were even some sinners who’d heard about the fight and were indirectly supporting them. Like Carl, who’d been handing out free food while preparing for the battle, passing along his boss’s message—basically a way of wishing Charlie good luck and expressing gratitude for the patronage so far. It was almost touching, in a Hell sort of way.

In Vox’s surveillance room, videos from various cameras stationed around the Hazbin Hotel played across the monitors surrounding him. Vox himself sat in his office chair, observing them all while sipping from his mug, electric eyes flickering with barely contained glee.

“No fucking way! They’re going to fight? Oh, my god. Hahahaha!”

He continued drinking while monitoring the feeds, each screen a window into the beautiful disaster about to unfold. Every screen displayed the Hazbins and the cannibals learning how to take on angels in combat—emphasis on learning, because they clearly had no idea what they were doing.

Vaggie was showing the cannibals how to use angelic weapons, while Angel and Cherri practiced hand-to-hand combat with more enthusiasm than skill. Meanwhile, Charlie and Sir Pentious pored over the hotel blueprints to find ideal locations for the automated weapon setups, their heads bent together in determined concentration.

“Oh, looks like your little hotel didn’t work out so well.” Vox burst into laughter as he watched Alastor look straight at the camera, those knowing red eyes boring into the lens right before the feed glitched and went black. Even from here, that smug brat managed to be infuriating.

“They are going to get FUCKED!! That’ll show that brat of a princess how useless she is, and that Alastor should have come to me instead!!”

He continued his rant, electricity crackling around his screen in his excitement. “Once he finds himself helpless in a ditch, I will be there for him! And when that moment comes, he will be mine!!!”

“MUHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” He laughed wildly as he monologued his plan out loud, because what was the point of having an evil plan if you couldn’t dramatically narrate it?

“VOX, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“KEEP IT DOWN! I AM TRYING TO WRITE PORN HERE!”

His partners yelled at him since they could hear his crazed laughter and shouting all the way from their towers—Vox had accidentally left his microphone on. Oops.

Outside the hotel, all of the cannibals had gathered to practice, their sharp teeth glinting in Hell’s perpetual red glow. As Charlie observed them from the hotel’s entrance, Vaggie came to her side, her hand finding Charlie’s with practiced ease.

Charlie let out a sigh, her voice wistful. “Oh, I wish my mom were here to see this.”

“The cannibals seem ready to fight,” Vaggie commented, observing them train with a critical eye honed from her exorcist days. She then turned to Charlie and asked, her voice softer, “Are we?”

Sir Pentious burst out of the hotel doors, juggling blueprints and weapon prototypes in his hands. He wobbled slightly before setting everything down on the floor with a triumphant hiss.

“Charlie, I have made the final adjustments to the automated Gatling gun at the perimeter of the south wall. They have all locked onto an angel’s signature signal and will fire when one is detected.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with one clawed hand and added, “On that note, Miss Vaggie should be careful, as she is also an angel herself.” His hood flared slightly in concern.

“Oh, Pentious! Thank you so much! You have been such a big help this past month!” Charlie’s enthusiasm was genuine and bright enough to rival Hell’s own fires. She expressed her gratitude to Sir Pentious, who had created plenty of automated weapon systems for the hotel—each one more elaborate and slightly unstable than the last.

“Well, since Mother has forbidden me from joining the battle, I have to do what I can to help you prepare,” he said, puffing out his chest with as much dignity as a banned-from-battle snake could muster.

“Most of the weapons I’ve created are automated, and the ones that aren’t will be operated by my Egg Bois!”

“Awesome! Looks like the defenses are all coming together!” Charlie glanced around the hotel and saw guns protruding from various vantage points, turning the Hazbin Hotel into something that looked like a fever dream of weaponry and hope.

Niffty, who had been running around the hotel’s entrance like a hyperactive roomba with homicidal tendencies, dashed over to Sir Pentious. “What can I do to help?”

Sir Pentious smiled and replied, “I’m glad you asked! You, Niffty, are about the same size as my Egg Bois! Therefore, you can help by manning some of the weapons around the hotel!”

He leaned in and asked, “So, how well do you know the Carmine Automation System 2.0?”

Niffty blinked up at him with that unhinged single eye, clearly confused.

“How about this?” Charlie knelt to Niffty’s level, recognizing a lost cause when she saw one. She handed Niffty an angelic blade and said, “If you see an angel, stab it!”

Niffty was thrilled to receive a new sharp weapon and examined it with the kind of glee usually reserved for finding the perfect cleaning product. Then she spotted Angel nearby. Believing Angel Dust was who Charlie meant—because really, his name was literally Angel—she rushed over to him with her knife, ready to stab.

“Stab! Stab! Stab!” She charged toward Angel, knife in hand and murder in her eye.

Angel saw Niffty charging at him with a knife and quickly scrambled up the pole he’d been leaning against, all four arms flailing.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey!” he shouted while climbing higher to avoid her.

“Not him!” Charlie’s voice rang out from a distance, tinged with exasperation.

Niffty frowned at that and ran off elsewhere, already plotting what else she could stab. As she left to find other things to violently penetrate, Angel did a flip and landed on the ground with spider-like grace before walking over to stand with Charlie, Vaggie, and Sir Pentious.

Vaggie turned to the crowd of cannibals and started addressing them in a drill-sergeant-like manner, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Listen up, sinners! We’ve got 24 hours before the Extermination begins. Let’s get to work!”

As the cannibals and hotel guests started their training for the fight, Vox kept watch from his surveillance room, practically vibrating with laughter.

“Oh, they suck. Oh, they suck so bad!” He laughed while observing the Hazbin crew and the cannibals go through their final training and equipment checks. It was like watching a car crash in slow motion—horrible, but he couldn’t look away.

“Oh, God. They’re gonna fucking die! They’re- they’re gonna die.”

Back at the hotel, Charlie held Alastor’s microphone in hand, preparing to give a speech to the cannibals and everyone staying at the hotel. The weight of it felt heavier than it should, like it carried some of Alastor’s sinister energy with it.

“Hello?” She tapped the microphone lightly, the feedback whining through the air before she spoke to the crowd.

“I want to thank everyone for coming. Even people who aren’t staying here yet…” She paused, looked over at Cherri Bomb, and said, “Cherri.”

“Look, I can’t resist a fight, okay?” Cherri replied with a shrug, her explosive personality already evident. “Especially when I get to tag team with this fuckhead.” She slung her arm around Angel, and he smiled back with that particular brand of affection reserved for found family.

“Tomorrow, the Exorcist Angels will face a Hell ready to defend itself and win!” Charlie addressed the crowd with enthusiasm, her voice ringing with determination as she tried to boost their spirits and pump them up for tomorrow’s fight. She could do this. She had to do this.

“Yeah! Yeah, we will! Tell ‘em, baby!” Vaggie threw her hands up and called out for everyone to hear, supportive girlfriend energy at maximum levels.

“Yes! And we are—we are going to win!” Charlie joined in Vaggie’s enthusiasm, feeding off her energy.

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before continuing, her voice softening. “But in case we don’t, I want you all to know... that getting to know you has been the biggest honor of my life.”

“Whatever redemption really means, I know you all tried. I have seen the good in all of you.”

Charlie began to get emotional, her voice wavering. “And it’s... I-I’m just... I love you all so much, and—and live tonight however you want because—”

Niffty cut in and yelled, “We’re all gonna die!” She burst into wild laughter after announcing it to the crowd, completely freaking them out with her manic energy and brutal honesty.

Vaggie threw her arms up and raised her voice, desperate to shift the mood before everyone panicked. “Alright! Let’s give it up for not dying! Love not dying.”

She clapped a couple of times to really drive her point home, but it seemed nobody was joining in. The silence was deafening.

After a brief pause, Vaggie asked with forced brightness, “Drinks?”

That got a response.

Inside the hotel, everyone enjoyed their beverages, chatting and having a good time together. The atmosphere had shifted from morbid to something warmer, more alive. They conversed warmly, lifting each other’s spirits for the night, because if this was potentially their last night, they were damn well going to make it count.

“I mean, personally, I’m excited. It’s been a while since I stabbed anyone and really meant it, you know what I mean?” Vaggie said to Charlie, holding a glass in her hand, her eye glinting with something between fondness and bloodlust.

Meanwhile, Husk, Cherri, and Angel chatted away behind them. They were having a great time, laughing and enjoying themselves; Charlie had even let them pick whatever alcohol they wanted tonight, consequences be damned.

“Cheers, bitches!” Cherri lifted her glass along with everyone else for a toast, her energy infectious.

“Yeah!” Husk joined in, his usual grumpiness mellowed by alcohol and camaraderie.

“Here’s to us!” Angel chimed in. “Cheers!”

Sir Pentious jumped in between them, holding his glass high and declaring with the earnestness only he could muster, “Here’s to being alive today and not dying tomorrow!”

The four of them clinked their glasses together before taking sips, the moment bittersweet and perfect.

Alastor and Niffty were hanging out on the mezzanine, keeping an eye on the rest of the group as they enjoyed themselves below. The Radio Demon looked almost... content. Almost.

“Ah, the celebratory night before a courageous last stand.” Alastor observed them from above, his voice carrying that strange mix of amusement and something that might have been fondness, if one squinted.

“I’ve been having a surprisingly good time playing in this hotel; I actually enjoyed my time here. How about you, Niffty?”

Niffty, perched on the railing like a deranged gargoyle, said, “I really like them, Alastor. They let me put on roach puppet shows without booing!”

“Ah, an enjoyable group to be around. I admit one could get accustomed to this,” Alastor said as he continued observing the group downstairs, his smile perhaps a fraction more genuine than usual.

Niffty jumped onto Alastor’s head and placed a crown made of roaches and sticks on him, declaring, “I dub thee Prince Roach.”

“Oh, to understand your twisted little mind!” Alastor responded fondly, not even bothering to remove the insect crown.

Alastor and Niffty began laughing together in their peculiar way, that synchronized chaos that hinted they may understand each other’s twisted minds after all. In Hell, found family looked different, but it was no less real.

The parlor was warm and golden, bathed in the soft glow of old lamps and the gentle hum of the hotel’s creaky pipes. Outside, the sky over Pentagram City was dark, thick with clouds—the kind that promised a storm, or maybe an extermination. Inside, though, it was quieter than usual. The Hazbins were scattered across the hotel, spending their “last free night” however they wanted.

Angel sat slouched at the bar, tapping the rim of his glass with one long, painted nail. The ice inside had nearly melted, and the drink reflected the faint shimmer of the chandelier overhead, creating little prisms of light that danced across the counter.

Husk stood behind the counter, half his feathers ruffled, tail flicking lazily as he poured. His movements had that practiced ease of someone who’d spent decades behind bars—the alcohol-serving kind, not the prison kind. Well, maybe both.

“Last day of the afterlife,” he muttered, leaning over the bar, “and you’re not off mixing drugs and booze and chugging it down?”

Angel cracked a small grin, the corner of his mouth twitching in that way it did when he was being genuine instead of performing. “Eh, not really in the mood to throw up today. Gotta make sure the food stays down for tomorrow.”

Husk raised a brow, giving a low whistle. “I guess you have changed.”

For a brief moment, silence filled the space between them—the quiet kind that said everything words didn’t need to. The kind of silence that only existed between people who’d seen each other at their worst and stuck around anyway. Angel swirled the amber in his glass, letting the light ripple through it like liquid gold.

“Hey,” he said, his tone softer, more vulnerable than his usual sass, “Charlie said to live tonight however we wanted, right?”

Husk’s ear twitched. “Yeah?”

Angel smirked again, this time with a glimmer of his old flair, that spark that made him Angel Dust and not just Anthony. “Then pour me a fresh one, featherbrain. Let’s get to living!”

He slid the empty glass over with a playful flick, and Husk chuckled—actually chuckled—as he filled it to the brim.

Just as the liquid splashed against the glass, a sharp honk! echoed from outside the hotel. Both of them glanced toward the window, the moment broken but not lost.

It was Carmilla’s car—idling by the front steps, sleek and dark and out of place among the hotel’s chaotic energy. Time for Pentious to go home.

Angel leaned his chin on his hand, peering through the open doorway as the little snake inventor scurried down the hall. There was something heavy about his steps—like every one carried a bit of goodbye in it, weighted with things left unsaid.

Pentious spotted Cherri near the lobby, chatting animatedly with Vaggie about explosive yields and strategic advantages. His hands fidgeted with his hat, his tail curling and uncurling nervously behind him in that telltale sign of anxiety. When Vaggie walked off toward Charlie, he saw his chance.

This might be his final opportunity to say goodbye, so he really needed to make it meaningful. His heart—did snakes have hearts? Well, whatever passed for one—was hammering in his chest.

“Miss Bomb? Cherri?”

Cherri turned around, one eyebrow raised, half a cigarette hanging from her lips in that effortlessly cool way she had. “Yeah?”

“I… I just wanted to say that I… love—” His voice squeaked, betraying him at the worst possible moment, and he froze. “—uh, love… wishing you good luck in the battle ahead!”

He reached out and shook her hand a little too enthusiastically, probably looking like an idiot.

Cherri blinked, glancing at his flustered face, clearly trying to process what was happening. “Uh… okay?”

“You have always been a worthy opponent!” he continued, his words tumbling out like misfiring gears, unable to stop the verbal avalanche. “And you’ve built some of the most brilliant explosive contraptions I have ever seen!”

Cherri tilted her head, clearly trying not to laugh at his awkward confession-that-wasn’t. “Uh… thanks?”

Pentious’s blush deepened beneath his scales, his hood flaring slightly. “Anyway, uh—please don’t die tomorrow! Okay, bye!!”

He bolted off down the hallway, tail flailing behind him like a distress flag, already dying of embarrassment.

Cherri stared after him, an amused smile tugging at her lips, something almost tender in her expression.

“Man, that kid’s a whole cartoon,” came Angel’s voice as he sauntered up beside her, holding two shot glasses filled with something that probably wasn’t legal even in Hell.

She snorted, accepting the offered glass. “You know, he’s got a crazy crush on me, right?”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Angel said, his tone somewhere between amused and sympathetic. “Kid’s got taste. But you know, as a little brother myself, I can tell you—if I had a sister like you, I’d probably have a little crush too.”

Cherri laughed, the sound genuine and warm, bumping her glass against his. “Aw, thanks, mate. He’ll grow out of it. Probably find some other hot mess to obsess over soon enough.”

“Wouldn’t be Hell without it,” Angel said, his grin a little too soft to be his usual mask, revealing the person underneath the persona.

They clinked their glasses together and downed the shots in one go. The burn hit, and for a fleeting second, both of them just stood there, feeling the warmth—not just from the liquor, but from the simple comfort of being here. Of being seen and accepted.

Tomorrow, everything could fall apart. But tonight, they were together.

The night air outside the hotel was cool and still, carrying the faint hum of Pentagram City in the distance—the screams, the sirens, the general chaos that was Hell’s background noise. The lights from the Hazbin Hotel glowed soft and golden against the gloom—a beacon of hope in a world that had forgotten what hope felt like.

Charlie stood at the entrance, her hands clasped in front of her, waiting. Her heart ached in that quiet, fragile way that only came before goodbyes, that hollow feeling of knowing things were ending.

Moments later, the familiar sputtering of an overengineered engine broke the silence. Sir Pentious trudged up the front steps, goggles slightly fogged, tail dragging behind him like a piece of his soul he was leaving behind. He tried to keep his chin up, but his lip trembled; the brave little inventor was fighting tears and losing.

When he reached her, he couldn’t hold them back anymore. His eyes filled, and his voice came out as a shaky whisper that broke Charlie’s heart.

“I… I have to go now…”

Charlie’s heart melted. She immediately knelt down and pulled him into a warm hug, wrapping her arms around him like a protective blanket, like she could shield him from everything Hell could throw at him.

“Oh, Pentious. Don’t be so sad,” she said softly, rubbing slow circles on his back in that universal gesture of comfort. “Everything is going to turn out all right. I promise.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her voice firm but gentle. “We’re going to fight as hard as we can tomorrow. I won’t let anything happen to my people—especially you. Adam isn’t getting beyond this hotel. We’ll handle him right here.”

Pentious sniffled hard, his little hands clutching her dress like a lifeline. “I’m sorry… I feel like I could have done more. You’re all my friends, and yet here I am, leaving you behind during the most important moment for the hotel.”

Charlie smiled sadly, brushing away a tear from his cheek with her thumb. “Pentious,” she said, her tone warm and sure, filled with all the love and belief she had, “you’ve done more than enough.”

Her hand came to rest on his shoulder, her eyes glowing faintly in the dim light with that demonic heritage she usually tried to hide. “You’re such a sweet boy—you came here and brought joy, laughter, goodness that everyone needed so badly. I just want you to know… I love you. And if anything happens, I’m so glad that I met you.”

At that, Pentious broke down completely, crying into her shoulder. His small frame shook as Charlie held him tighter, her own tears threatening to fall.

From a distance, Carmilla’s elegant silhouette appeared in the shadows, observing quietly. She stepped forward, her expression unreadable but her eyes soft in a way they rarely were.

“Come now, my little serpent,” she murmured as she scooped Pentious up, holding him against her chest with surprising gentleness. He clung to her coat, still sobbing, hiding his face in her shoulder.

Carmilla met Charlie’s gaze and gave her a small, respectful nod—a silent promise that she would keep him safe, that she understood what he meant to them. Then she turned, guiding her son back toward the car with practiced grace.

The engine rumbled to life, headlights slicing through the night like knives. Through the window, Pentious raised a trembling hand to wave goodbye, his tears still visible. Charlie smiled through her own tears and waved back until the car disappeared into the dark horizon, swallowed by Hell’s endless night.

Only then did she lower her hand, the night feeling too quiet, too big, too empty. She stood there for a long moment before turning and stepping back inside the hotel, her heart heavy with love and fear in equal measure.

The hallways were dim, lit only by the warm glow of sconces that cast dancing shadows on the walls. Charlie paused outside Angel’s door, her hand hovering near the frame. Photos and doodles were taped haphazardly across it—snapshots of laughter, messy meals, and half-successful redemption lessons. Moments frozen in time.

She smiled at them, each one a tiny victory, a moment of genuine connection… then her smile faltered. The weight of tomorrow hit her like a stone, crushing and inevitable.

What if this was the last time she saw them? What if her dream got them all killed? The thought tore through her chest, and before she knew it, tears were spilling down her cheeks, hot and unbidden.

“Charlie?”

Her name came softly from behind, gentle as a prayer. She turned, startled, to find Vaggie standing a few feet away in the corridor, concern etched across her face. Even in the dim light, Charlie could see the love there, the unwavering support.

Charlie quickly looked away, hugging herself as if she could hold all her fears inside. “I’m sorry… I’m just… so scared. What if we lose?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, trembling with the words she’d been holding in all night, the fears she’d been too afraid to voice.

“I promised Pentious everything would be fine… but the worst-case scenario is all I can think about.”

Vaggie’s expression softened, something achingly tender crossing her face. She took a step closer, her voice lowering into a soothing melody that seemed to wrap around Charlie like a warm embrace.

“You’ve already done so much,” she began to sing softly, her voice carrying through the hallway. “So many lives you’ve changed…”

Charlie blinked, surprised as Vaggie’s voice echoed through the hall, gentle but sure, filled with conviction Charlie couldn’t find in herself.

Vaggie reached out, brushing a tear from Charlie’s face with infinite gentleness as she sang, “So many souls you’ve touched.”

Charlie’s breath hitched as Vaggie took her hand, their fingers lacing together in a gesture that had become as natural as breathing.

“And in the end, if it’s only me you’ve saved,” Vaggie sang, her eyes glistening with unshed tears,

“There’s something I’ve been dying to say…”

Charlie joined in, their voices weaving together in harmony, trembling but full of love—the kind of love that defied Hell itself.

“More than anything…”

“More than anything.”

The hallway glowed faintly around them, the light bending just slightly from the warmth of their magic, reality itself responding to their emotion. Vaggie cupped Charlie’s face, her thumb brushing her cheek as she whispered the final line with absolute certainty.

“Need you to know I love you more than anything.”

Their foreheads touched, breaths mingling, the world falling away until it was just the two of them—two souls bound by love in a place built on sin and suffering. But here, in this moment, there was only light.

“More than anything…” they whispered together before closing the distance and sharing a slow, tender kiss that tasted like tears and hope and everything they’d built together.

In that quiet moment, the world felt at peace—even if only for one night. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Chapter Text

In Heaven, tucked away in a secret corner outside the gate and out of St. Peter’s view, the Exorcists gathered as Adam gave them an encouraging pep talk.

“Extermination Day is here, bitches! We’re going down to exterminate demon ass!” His voice boomed across the assembled warriors, each word dripping with bloodlust and arrogance.

“Destroy that ass!” Lute stood beside him, her enthusiastic war cry echoing his energy.

“Prepare to slaughter every sinner in that shit hotel—spare no one!” Adam’s grin was vicious as he addressed his army. “Make the princess watch. Make her regret ever messing with the Exorcists!”

His golden eyes gleamed with malicious anticipation.

“Destroy everything you see down there and shatter her spirit completely!” His voice rose to a fever pitch, feeding off the growing energy of his troops.

The exorcists erupted into cheers, their bloodlust matching their leader’s intensity.

“And you all remember Vaggie?” He turned to the group gathered in front of him, and the shift in atmosphere was immediate.

When Vaggie’s name left his lips, the exorcists’ cheers twisted into furious boos.

“Boo! We hate her!” They screamed, their voices full of betrayal and rage.

Lute’s face contorted with pure hatred. “Rip Vaggie’s c*** mouth out her ass!”

“Would you just... chill, Lute. Fuck.” Adam actually turned to stare at her, eyebrows raised. Even he hadn’t expected that level of vitriol.

He gave her a sharp side-eye before turning back to the rest of the squad, shaking his head slightly.

“Anyway, whoever brings me Vaggie’s head gets…” He paused dramatically, milking the moment. “Uh, I dunno, a million Heaven bucks. How about that, huh?”

The Exorcists went wild, their cheers deafening.

“Haha, yeah! Ladies, let’s fuck shit up!” Adam thrust his fist into the air, and the energy reached its peak.

Right behind him, reality itself seemed to tear—a portal to Hell cracked open like a wound in the sky, positioned directly above the Hazbin Hotel. The swirling vortex pulsed with ominous light.

“ATTACK!” Adam’s voice boomed like thunder across the heavens.

“FORWARD!” Lute commanded, her sword raised high as the Exorcists surged through the portal in a frenzy of light and wings, their war cries fading into the distance.

Meanwhile, in a completely different part of Hell, Clara’s footsteps echoed through the quiet halls of the Carmine mansion as she made her way upstairs.

Her little brother had been holed up in his room since last night—right after he’d returned from the hotel. The silence from his room had been deafening. Mom and Odette had agreed to give him space, hoping he’d work through whatever emotional turmoil was eating at him.

Clara understood. Really, she did. Leaving his friends behind had to be tearing him apart inside. The guilt of choosing safety over solidarity—it wasn’t an easy thing to carry.

But what choice did they have? He was their baby brother, far too young to be throwing himself into a war against literal angels. The thought of losing him—of him being cut down by an angelic blade—it was unbearable. His safety had to come first, even if it meant breaking his heart. Even if it meant he might never forgive them.

Now, with extermination day upon them, worry gnawed at Clara’s insides. She needed to see him, to make sure he was okay.

She knocked on the door. Silence.

“Pentious?” she called softly. Nothing.

She knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. Her hand reached for the knob—unlocked.

That’s... odd.

She pushed the door open slowly, half-expecting to find him asleep or sulking.

The room was empty.

Completely empty.

The window stood wide open, curtains billowing in the hellish breeze.

Clara’s eyes darted to his study table, and her breath caught. Three letters lay there, carefully arranged—addressed to Mom, to her, to Odette. And beside them, a small stack of envelopes, each one bearing the name of someone from the hotel.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no—

Her heart plummeted into her stomach as she rushed to the window. In the distance, Morningstar Hill loomed—and there, directly above the Hazbin Hotel, a portal shimmered into existence, crackling with divine energy.

He didn’t.

He wouldn’t.

But he did.

“MOM! ODETTE!” Clara’s scream tore through the house as she bolted from the room. “GET IN HERE! PENTIOUS IS GONE!”

Back at the hotel, the atmosphere was thick with tension.

The portal hung in the sky like a guillotine blade, ready to drop.

Charlie stood at the front, her golden shield—emblazoned with her family’s apple motif—gripped tightly in her hands. Beside her, Vaggie held her angelic spear with practiced ease, her expression hard and focused. Niffty clutched the small dagger Charlie had given her, giggling in that unsettling way she did when violence was imminent. Angel’s Tommy gun was loaded and ready. Cherri had a bomb in each hand, her grin feral. Husk flexed his claws—now coated in gleaming angelic steel.

Every weapon had been enhanced. Every fighter was ready.

This wasn’t going to be a slaughter. Not this time.

“Here they come,” Vaggie announced, her eye fixed on the swirling portal. “Get ready, everyone. We fight together!”

Across town in V Tower, the mood was decidedly less tense.

Valentino lounged on the couch, looking bored out of his mind. Velvette sat beside him, scrolling through her phone with disinterest.

But Vox?

Vox was living for this. He sat perched on the edge of his seat, a massive tub of popcorn in his lap, his screen-face practically glowing with excitement as he watched the live feed from the hotel.

“Oh-ho-ho, this is gonna be good,” he cackled, shoving popcorn into his mouth with gleeful anticipation. “I hope someone dies spectacularly.”

At the hotel, Vaggie raised her spear high.

“Now!” she roared. “FOR YOUR SOULS!”

The battle cry that followed was deafening—a cacophony of rage, determination, and desperate hope.

“LET’S FUCK THEM UP!” Charlie screamed, her voice raw with emotion as she charged forward.

The Exorcists poured through the portal like a flood of white and gold, their wings catching the hellish light as they dove toward the hotel grounds.

The cannibals met them head-on.

What should have been a massacre—a one-sided butchering of helpless sinners—instead erupted into absolute chaos. The cannibals fought back with surprising ferocity, their angelic weapons cutting through divine flesh with brutal efficiency.

Blood—golden and crimson—began to paint the hotel grounds.

The war had begun.

High above on the hotel roof, Alastor stood like a conductor before an orchestra of carnage.

“Let the slaughter begin!” His laughter was manic, echoing across the battlefield with radio static. “AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

With a theatrical flourish of his microphone, a massive black neon-green force field erupted around the hotel, dome-like and pulsing with eldritch energy. Several Exorcists found themselves trapped inside, their eyes widening in shock.

The ones outside weren’t so lucky. They slammed into the barrier at full speed—bodies crumpling against the invisible wall like insects against a windshield. Blood splattered. Bones cracked. Screams filled the air.

“Look, it’s Alastor’s shield!” Vaggie called out between strikes, her spear finding its mark in an Exorcist’s throat. “It’s your turn, babe!”

“Right!” Charlie’s hands began to glow, golden magic swirling around her fingers like liquid light.

She channeled everything she had into the spell, sending it skyward. Her magic spread across the inside of Alastor’s barrier, creating a second layer—doubling their protection.

Two layers. Two of Hell’s most powerful beings working in tandem.

The shield was nearly impenetrable.

Inside the dome, it was a bloodbath. An Exorcist shrieked as Cherri’s bomb caught her mid-flight, her body exploding in a spray of golden ichor.

Outside the barrier, Adam and Lute hovered in stunned disbelief.

“The fuck?” Adam’s voice was barely a whisper, shock etched across his masked face. Sinners weren’t supposed to fight back. They weren’t supposed to win.

“They appear to have some kind of shield, sir!” Lute reported, ever the dutiful lieutenant.

Adam’s head snapped toward her, his shock transforming into rage. “Oh, really? I didn’t see this GIANT FUCKING SHIELD IN FRONT OF ME, YOU DUMB BITCH! NO SHIT!”

Lute just stared at him blankly, tuning out his tantrum like she’d done a thousand times before.

Then things got worse.

Alastor’s shield began to move—black tentacles sprouting from its surface like some eldritch horror. They lashed out at the Exorcists outside, each one tipped with an angelic blade. The tentacles moved with terrifying speed and precision, skewering angels and sending them spiraling toward the ground.

“That’s how they can kill us? With our own weapons?” Adam’s voice dripped with disgust as he watched his soldiers fall. “Fucking weak, dude.”

Lute’s face twisted with fury. With a wordless scream, she raised her sword and shot toward the shield, determined to break through.

Inside the barrier, the battle raged on.

“Come and get some!” Angel’s voice was full of vicious glee as he danced around the battlefield, his Tommy gun spitting death. Every movement was fluid, graceful—he dodged attacks like he was performing choreography, making it look easy.

“Eat shrapnel, fuckers!” Cherri’s aim was perfect, every bomb finding its target with deadly precision. Explosions lit up the battlefield in bursts of fire and light.

Nearby, Sir Pentious’s automated weapons fired in perfect rhythm, tracking Exorcists with mechanical accuracy. The Egg Bois manned some of them, gleefully pressing buttons and pulling triggers.

“Take this, you motherfuckers!” Husk’s roar was primal as he swooped down, his wings spread wide. His claws tore through angelic flesh like paper. From range, his enchanted cards and dice became projectiles of death—slicing throats and piercing skulls.

And Niffty? She was a blur of manic energy, stabbing anything in white robes—dead or alive, it didn’t matter. She giggled the entire time, her small form darting between corpses and living enemies alike. She was terrifying in her efficiency.

The kid sinners—along with the cannibal children—were proving themselves to be absolute powerhouses. They fought with a ferocity that put many adults to shame, taking down Exorcists with brutal teamwork and surprising strength. Their kill count was actually surpassing entire groups of adult fighters, their coordination seamless and deadly.

It was becoming painfully obvious just how strong and underestimated these young sinners truly were. No wonder they faced so much harassment from adults—fear often disguised itself as cruelty, and these kids were terrifying when given the chance to prove themselves.

“The shield is working!” Charlie’s voice rang with hope as she watched their plan unfold. They were actually doing this. They were actually winning.

The Exorcist numbers were dropping fast. Bodies littered the ground in heaps of white and gold.

“Trying to focus, sweetie!” Vaggie called back, not taking her eyes off the enemy as she parried a strike and countered with lethal precision.

Charlie stayed close, her shield protecting Vaggie’s blind side. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. Not today. Not ever.

“We might actually have a chance!” Hope bloomed in Charlie’s chest for the first time since this nightmare began.

A spear whistled past her head—Vaggie’s throw—and she heard the wet thunk of it impaling the Exorcist who’d been sneaking up behind her.

“Love the optimism. Still trying to focus,” Vaggie said, ripping her spear free and decapitating another angel in one smooth motion.

Adam’s patience had officially run out.

“I’m fucking over this.”

He pulled his fist back and shot toward the shield like a meteor, putting everything he had into the punch.

The impact was tremendous—a shockwave rippled across the barrier. But it held. Only a tiny hairline crack appeared on the surface.

Charlie and Alastor’s combined power was no joke.

“The fuck?!” Adam’s voice cracked with disbelief.

He punched again. And again. And again. Each strike made the crack grow slightly, but the shield refused to break. His knuckles split open, golden blood dripping from his hands as he hammered away uselessly.

“Sir! Are you alright?” Lute flew to his side, concern flashing across her face at the sight of his blood.

Adam floated back, staring at his bloodied knuckles, then at the shield. His expression darkened, rage building like a storm.

“What the fuck is that fucking shield?!” His voice was a roar now. “I’m the First Man! No cheap sinner’s magic tricks can hold me back!”

His entire body began to glow, divine energy crackling around him like lightning.

“Alright...” His grin was vicious, unhinged. “You want to play rough? Then let’s kick it up a notch!”

He pointed directly at the crack he’d created, power building in his palm until it was almost blinding.

“SUCK MY HOLY LIGHT, FUCKERS!”

The blast that erupted from his hand was pure concentrated divinity—a beam of golden energy that hit the crack like a battering ram.

The shield exploded.

Both layers—Alastor’s and Charlie’s—shattered simultaneously in a shower of crimson and gold sparks, dissipating into nothing.

The battlefield was now wide open.

Exorcists who’d been waiting outside immediately poured in, reinforcing their sisters and turning the tide with sheer numbers.

“Fuck!” Angel’s curse was lost in the chaos as fresh enemies swarmed toward them.

“Oh, no!” Charlie’s hope shattered along with the shield. Her eyes found the hotel roof—found Alastor—and her blood ran cold.

He was going to face Adam alone.

And she had no idea if even the Radio Demon could survive that.

Chapter Text

Once the smoke settled, Adam’s eyes locked onto a small figure standing on the roof. Alastor. So he was the one who created that damn shield. With a snarl, Adam swooped down, ready to rip the little pest apart.

Back at V Tower, the Vees had front-row seats to what Vox hoped would be the greatest show on Earth—Alastor’s brutal humiliation.

“Oh, fuck yes! Kick his ass! I’m so hard right now!” Vox practically vibrated with excitement, his screen flickering.

He did a little crazy dance in front of the TV that had Velvette shifting uncomfortably in her seat. Valentino, predictably, didn’t even blink—he’d seen worse from Vox on a Tuesday.

“Kick him in the ass! Make him cry! Throw him in a ditch!” Vox’s voice cracked as he jumped up and down like an overeager child on Christmas morning, screaming at the TV screen.

“I’ll take care of him when you’re done with him!” His right eye swirled hypnotically, lost in his triumph fantasies.

“Phrasing!” Valentino coughed into his fist.

Meanwhile, on the hotel roof, Alastor took a few measured steps toward Adam, who’d just landed on the rooftop sign with all the grace of a wrecking ball.

“Adam! First man—next to die.” The twelve-year-old’s voice carried that strange radio filter, his words dripping with mockery as he approached. Despite his small stature, there was nothing childlike about the predatory smile on his face.

Adam’s eyebrow quirked up as he sized up the diminutive figure before him. “Who the fuck are you? The head of the kiddie squad?”

Oh, if looks could kill. But Alastor’s smile only widened.

“Alastor. Pleasure to meet you—quite a pleasure.” He executed a mocking bow that somehow made the gesture even more insulting. “I’m about to end your fucking life.”

With a theatrical tap of his microphone cane against the roof—the staff grew, almost as tall as the child wielding it—four massive tentacles erupted from the shadows around him, writhing menacingly.

Adam actually laughed. The archangel was facing down a twelve-year-old. A twelve-year-old. “Awww, that’s cute. This kid thinks he’s a grown-up.”

The First Man summoned his guitar axe in a flash of golden light, the weapon humming with divine power. “Let me show you how a real man deals with this!”

He charged forward like a bull seeing red.

Alastor remained perfectly still, poised and confident. His tentacles lashed out like vipers, but Adam’s axe sang through the air, slicing through them with brutal efficiency. The angel geared up for a direct strike on Alastor himself.

“Ah ah ah!” Alastor wagged a finger at him.

Adam swung down with enough force to split the building, but Alastor sidestepped as easily as avoiding a puddle, sending another wave of tentacles at the angel.

“You really think you can take me on?” Adam bellowed, his movements a deadly dance of dodges and slashes. “An archangel and adult like me is no match for a child’s mortal soul!”

His guitar axe spun in a devastating arc, cleaving through another onslaught of shadow tentacles. “There’s no way someone like you can take me down!”

Alastor’s grin took on a knowing quality, his red eyes gleaming. “You should know better than anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate.”

Before Adam could process that cryptic statement, Alastor’s shadow stretched across the roof like spilled ink. It looked like a crack was forming in the hotel’s structure, a jagged line racing toward Adam’s feet. Without warning, a monstrous creature erupted from the darkness and slammed into Adam’s jaw with a sickening crunch.

“Ohoho, this little twerp thinks he’s tough shit, huh?” Adam recovered quickly, his axe becoming a blur as he sliced through shadow monster after shadow monster. One dissolved into wisps of darkness at his feet.

“Tougher than you. Ha ha ha! Pffftttt,” Alastor stuck his tongue out, blowing a raspberry.

Adam took another massive swing, but Alastor danced out of reach with infuriating ease.

“You lack discipline, control, and worst of all—” Alastor’s voice echoed strangely as he weaved between Adam’s increasingly frustrated strikes.

On the third wild swing, Alastor’s form shifted. His body elongated, his antlers grew, and his eyes blazed with hellfire as he went full demon mode. An entire army of tiny shadow minions materialized at his command, their glowing eyes fixed on Adam.

“YOU’RE SLOPPY!”

Adam’s finger shot out accusingly. “And you’re—”

He never got to finish. Like a swarm of demonic locusts, every single shadow minion launched themselves at him, climbing and clawing and biting all over his body. Adam rocketed into the air, trying desperately to shake them off.

“Fuck—fuck you...you red piece of—too much fucking red...fuck...shut up!”

He twisted and turned mid-flight, the minions treating him like their personal jungle gym. Most of them went flying as he spun, and he hurled the last one away with a victorious grunt—only for a massive tentacle to wrap around his torso like a boa constrictor.

The world spun. Then Adam’s body slammed into the hotel’s sign with enough force to crack the metal.

“Haha! Poetry!” Alastor’s delighted laughter rang out as Adam crashed down in a shower of sparks and debris.

Adam dragged himself from the wreckage, his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. Alastor stood there—a literal child who’d just outsmarted him—grinning like the cat.

Oh, this little shit was going to pay. Getting humiliated by a twelve-year-old was not how this was supposed to go.

Adam launched himself skyward, axe blazing with holy light. Time to show this kid who he was messing with.

“I’m going to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face!” Adam snarled, divine power crackling around him.

He dove like a meteor, axe raised high, his voice booming across the battlefield: “CAUSE RADIO IS FUCKING DE—”

Poof.

Alastor vanished into the shadows like he’d never been there at all.

Adam hung suspended in mid-air, his axe cutting through empty space. He scratched his head, genuinely confused. Why the hell did the kid run?

That’s when he felt it. Something all over his body.

Small, round objects covered his armor and wings. They were sticky as hell, especially the ones plastered around his mask. Little lights blinked on each sphere—faster, faster, faster—then they started beeping.

Oh.

Oh shit.

Those shadow minions hadn’t just been attacking him. They’d been turning him into a walking bomb. The sticky little bastards had covered him in angelic explosives, set on a timer. Alastor had been stalling, keeping him distracted and angry so he wouldn’t notice until it was too late. That clever little—

“Shi—”

BOOM.

The explosion was apocalyptic. Adam plummeted like a fallen star, hitting the ground with such force that the earth cracked beneath him in a spider-web pattern. Smoke billowed everywhere.