Chapter Text
The closer Vox got, the more uncomfortable he felt. The longer he felt Vox's metallic claws on his body, the stronger the urge to take a bath became. His omega was increasingly stressed by the incessant touch of the one with the TV-like head.
He hated feeling inferior, even more so in front of an alpha like him.
He hated feeling submissive as much as he hated being an omega.
The deal he'd made with his beloved Rosie wasn't enough to keep Alastor afloat among the alphas. He needed more power to achieve his goal, something he hadn't accomplished in his human life.
It was worse when Vox dared to use his pheromones on him. Every time he smelled that burnt scent, his ears pressed uncontrollably against his head. His body, trying to appear submissive, hunched over and trembled. Alastor's performance helped him blend in. Thanks to his willpower and his good relationship with his inner omega, they would have noticed he was an omega years ago.
When Vox left the room where they had been locked up, he heard Lucifer cough sharply, as if he had been holding back the pain of the burns. This allowed Alastor to forget the lingering smell of burning in the room.
"Is the Demon King himself really that weak?" he asked mockingly, as soon as the cough stopped, without bothering to turn toward the bound blond. Hearing his companion's groans and attempts to free himself, his smile widened even further. At least he had a companion with apple pheromones strong enough to mask Vox's burnt wire scent.
"That's none of your business, Bambi," the fallen angel shouted from behind him, clearly exhausted from the draining of his power. Even so, he firmly believed that his daughter, Charlie, and her friends would come looking for him. Pathetic.
“Well…” the demon began, using his legs and tentacles to approach Lucifer, turning his metal chair around so he could look him in the eyes, as close as possible. “With the recent news that His Majesty cannot harm sinners, his reputation has dropped considerably among those down here.” The news traveled throughout Hell, reaching even the ears of the imprisoned Alastor. He used his best manipulative tone, all to anger the king and thus fall into his trap. “That’s why I want to propose a deal.”
“…A deal with you? And what would I get out of it?” As strange as it seemed, the idea of making a deal hadn’t surprised the blond demon; it seemed he wasn’t the first person to ask him something like that. “You’re a filthy sinner, you have nothing to give me.” While the insult made one of his ears twitch in disgust, it was an expected reaction.
“Well… I could do the dirty work for you, you know? Kill sinners you can’t punish.” The sinner began, testing the waters. When he noticed the idea seemed to intrigue the blond, he continued. “In exchange, I’d like you to give me power.”
“…” There was a silence, during which Lucifer concentrated on analyzing Alastor’s expressions, making sure there was no trickery involved. When he felt he had found nothing, he spoke.
“I think my brain is a little fried.” He began, chuckling slightly. “Let me understand, dying sinner. You want me to give you my angelic power, provided you become my actual executioner?” The question ended with a tremor throughout the room and a brief transformation of Lucifer into his demonic power. A threat.
The display of power, contrary to expectations, only made Alastor more eager to obtain it. If he possessed the power of the Demon King himself, he could do whatever he wanted; there would be no limitations.
“Yes. I will be at your service, my king,” Alastor replied, bowing slightly, maintaining eye contact. His smile never left his lips despite the restraints that held him firmly in the chair.
Exactly five seconds passed during which eye contact was maintained between the radio demon and the Demon King, until Lucifer spoke: “Before you accept, answer me.” His tone left no room for doubt, and Alastor could hear the alpha voice mingled with his own: “Why do you crave so much power?”
At the question, Alastor froze. The question wouldn't have been difficult to answer under normal circumstances, but the true reason for his lust for power…
He didn't want to answer, but he knew that if he lied, there would be no deal. Which is worse than telling the truth.
"Well, Your Highness, the reason is simple; I want protection." He didn't bother to explain for whom he wanted protection, or things would have become more complicated.
At this response, which didn't seem to surprise Lucifer much, the king uttered his words, transforming into his demon form, disregarding the warnings of the celestial weapon's bindings
“You will swear loyalty to me. Only to me. If I tell you not to kill a certain sinner, you will not, regardless of your own thoughts. Obey me blindly, and I will grant you so much power that you will be second only to me.” The tone left no room for argument; it was these conditions or no deal. Alastor had no choice but to accept, even though he didn't particularly enjoy blind obedience.
But it was fine. With this amount of power, he could keep his promise.
“Then, my King. I accept your deal.” Alastor could swear that with just those words, the atmosphere in the room had changed, becoming more ancient, more powerful. As he finished accepting, he saw the serpent on Lucifer's hat come to life in a golden flash and, passing through the barrier that contained the demon king, slowly approach the stag.
It climbed onto his lap. The demon couldn't help but swallow hard, because after accepting, Lucifer hadn't uttered another word, only remained still, observing, which sent shivers down Alastor's spine.
Little by little, he felt the serpent approach his arm, sliding down to his right hand. It began to shrink in size until it resembled a kind of worm.
It slithered down his palm, all under Alastor's tense gaze, and upon reaching his ring finger, it coiled around him. Like a serpent ring. It tightened itself so much that Alastor, without even trying, knew it was impossible to remove it.
"...A ring?" the red demon asked, confused, after understanding the purpose of that serpent ring.
"Ah, yes. I hate this whole thing with chains around the neck; they're old-fashioned and ugly. Rings are much more refined," Lucifer explained, dismissing the matter. At that moment, Alastor felt two things. The powers hadn't yet manifested. Were they delayed? Perhaps the Demon King had lied and only wanted to have the Radio Demon at his mercy. The second thing he noticed before succumbing to the anxiety of a false bargain was the absence.
Something was missing, something indispensable to him. The piece that completed Alastor had vanished.
The problem was, Lucifer hadn't stopped talking, not allowing Alastor to recover. "Prepare yourself. In a few seconds, you will receive a power greater than you can imagine. Perhaps your mortal body won't be able to withstand it, but it doesn't matter."
As soon as Lucifer finished speaking, he snapped his fingers. He allowed his power to flow into Alastor.
And the room began to tremble.
The first thing Alastor felt was a wave of absolute well-being coursing through him from the ring to his entire body. That is, until the healing ended. And now, instead of healing, the power clung to him in an uncontrollable way.
His veins throbbed painfully with the angelic power coursing through him. There was no fear or guilt despite the pain, only an intense euphoria. The pain coursed through every part of his body, almost as if he were dying a second time. Despite this, the radio demon didn't allow himself to scream or even complain.
Despite the pain: His new power didn't feel so foreign or imposed. It was more as if Alastor's body were a magnet absorbing power. It felt, somehow, natural. A flame that was extinguished, but destined to ignite.
The room gradually stopped shaking.
His body stilled, became light, his mind clear. Every thought seemed sharper, every heartbeat firmer, more powerful. He felt confident, secure, a deep certainty that nothing would ever dominate him again and that he could challenge anyone who stood before him. Even his inner omega, who had been silent during the transformation, felt that he had reached the strength of an alpha.
Any mark Vox had left on his body was gone; Adam's wound was erased, not a scar.
When his small, painful transformation ended, Alastor rose from the chair. The wires that had held him in the chair were now useless, burned away. He looked at his right hand, at the ring, and felt no need to remove it. For some reason, he felt the ring was exactly where it should be.
He seemed to recall the presence of Lucifer, who watched everything with a satisfied smile. He had created his own deadly weapon.
Alastor approached the demon king, recognizing that there wasn't much time left before Vox returned because of the alarms. When he reached the crystal that held his king, he touched it with his palm. He could feel the energy moving, celestial energy. He also felt how fragile the glass was.
"My king... tell me. What will your first orders be?" He bowed as he spoke. His tone was sincere; perhaps he would never say it, but if he had to be chained to an alpha like this, Lucifer was at least the best choice among so many insolent sinners
It seemed his words surprised the King, who looked at him with surprise and a touch of embarrassment. "First of all, you need to know that you will cease to be Overlord. I've terminated all your other dealings," Lucifer explained, not noticing how one of Alastor's ears twitched.
So that's where the feeling of emptiness came from. He didn't like the idea of not having souls under his command, but most likely there was some loophole to keep his small pack together. Although the anticipation of this event was utterly unpleasant for his inner omega, he could almost hear it saying, "Go. Find your own!" Despite the urge, Alastor swallowed his desire to go in search of those he considered the only ones worth keeping as contacts.
"Of course, Your Majesty. Any other news I should be aware of?" the now Royal Executioner asked.
"Not at the moment." Lucifer replied, "My first order will be: Get me out of this damn machine." For the king, the first order would always be a test of his executioner's loyalty; it was a kind of tradition.
Alastor, without hesitation, placed both hands, palms open, on the crystal. He allowed himself to feel the celestial energy flowing through it. Then, automatically, almost as if it had been explained to him beforehand, he concentrated his energy, which was now not just green but had golden flashes, in his hands and pulled hard.
The crystal shattered the instant the radio demon drew on his energy. The sound was loud, but the "crack" of the glass breaking on the floor gave him an unexpected satisfaction.
Another unexpected sound was the blaring of alarms. It seemed the Vees had finally noticed something was wrong, but it didn't matter; after all, the only three Vees who could approach the machine were occupied.
He looked at his king in confusion, his ears twitching from the sound of the alarm, which disrupted the executioner's concentration. He approached Lucifer and considered how to remove the straps that bound the blond man. He circled him a couple of times, still not understanding how they were draining Lucifer's celestial power. "What are you waiting for, Bambi?" The voice startled him. "Hurry, time is running out." It was right.
For a second, he gave up thinking. He used two tentacles to cut the energy drain from one of the bonds and, with the same ones, severed the chain. Although cutting the bond was more difficult than breaking the crystal, at least now he knew they could be broken.
Proud of himself, he perked up his ears, admiring his work. Then he continued with the other three bonds in less than a minute.
When he finished, Lucifer collapsed, drained of energy.
"Come on, Your Highness, don't faint now." Alastor asked, trying to hide his slight concern at seeing Lucifer in the dream. Receiving no response, he grabbed him with his tentacles, holding him aloft. “Your Highness?” he asked, his humor gone as he approached the king's body.
“Damn it…” Lucifer groaned, opening his eyes. “That machine weakened me,” he admitted, surprising the demon. How could a simple machine weaken the king so much that he fainted? “…Never mind,” he said again a few seconds later, rising and assuming his demonic form. He soared into the air before settling onto one of Alastor's shoulders. “I want that damn TV dead.”
“Your wish is my command.” Alastor couldn't suppress a smile.