System’s Rebooting

Adam: *bursting into the hotel’s lobby, carrying Alastor, breath uneven* Baxter—where the hell is Baxter?!

The lobby is heavy—somber, quiet. The aftermath of a funeral hangs in the air. Eyes turn. Grief pauses.

Charlie: *stepping forward, shaken* Adam…? What—what happened?

Adam: *tight, urgent* He’s not okay. Something is very—VERY—wrong.

Alastor twitches in his arms, a strained static groan slipping out as the egg shifts painfully

Husk: Baxter ain’t here. Left earlier—said somethin’ about “critical supplies.”

Adam: *staring, disbelief turning to dread* You’ve gotta be kidding me—

Vaggi: *soft but concerned* Is he… dying?

Adam: If we don’t do something? Yeah.

Another sharp crack—audible this time. Alastor tenses violently.

Alastor: *strained, barely coherent* I will not—break—like this—

The room flickers with static as the Radio Demon was going through another contraction.

Vox: *voice low, grief still heavy but controlled* …Move *approaches, eyes scanning quickly, analytically* I can perform a c-section.

The room goes still—Lucifer’s expression tightens immediately.

Lucifer: *jaw clenches cold, uneasy* …Vox.

Adam: *instinctively pulling Alastor closer* No. Absolutely not. I’m not letting you anywhere near—

Alastor: *suddenly spasms, a sharp, broken sound tearing out of him* Do it—! *his claws jerk violently, nearly digging into himself*

Adam: *panic snapping in* —Tch—!

*hesitates… then looks back at Vox*

Adam: …Do it.

Vox: *already turning* Good *looks to Lucifer* Prepare an available room for a surgery! Now!

Before anyone can respond—

BZZT— Vox vanishes into a flicker of screens and static

Lucifer: *immediately moving, voice sharp with command* This way.

He hurries down the hall, snapping his fingers—

The walls shift, reality bending—within seconds, a suite transforms into a sterile operating room.

Lucifer: *turning back* Get him on the table.

Adam: *rushing in, carefully lowering Alastor onto the bed* Easy—easy—

Alastor writhes, barely lucid, the egg visibly straining—cracks spidering further

Alastor: *hoarse, feral edge creeping in* If that thing breaks inside me I will g̷l̷i̷†̷c̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷#̷$̷%̷@̷!̷ ̷t̷e̷a̷r̷ ̷r̷e̷a̷l̷i̷t̷y̷—

Lucifer: Then we won’t let it *gestures and suddenly straps appearing at the sides of the table* Adam. Help me restrain him. He cannot move during this.

Adam: *hesitating for half a second, then nodding* …Yeah.

He grabs Alastor’s arm, securing it despite resistance.

Adam: *low, trying to ground him* Hey. Stay with me, alright? Just—hold on a little longer.

The egg gives another violent pulse—cracks deepening… time running out.

BZZT—screens flicker. Vox reappears beside the table, a heavy medical bag in hand.

Vox: *already moving, unzipping it* Don’t let him move.

The bag opens—neatly organized instruments, labeled syringes, sterile tools glinting under the light

Adam: *glancing up, tense* You better know what you’re doing.

Vox: *flat, focused* I do *preps a syringe quickly, tapping it once, precise*

Alastor: *eyes snap toward Vox—sharp, aware despite the pain* Oh… how delightful… my least favorite audience—

Adam: *immediately stepping into his line of sight, gripping his face gently but firmly* Hey—HEY. Look at me. Not him.

Alastor’s gaze flickers—locks onto Adam instead

Adam: *softer, grounding* Stay with me. Just me, alright?

Behind him—Vox moves in fast. A sharp injection into Alastor’s thigh.

Alastor: *jerking hard, a broken cry tearing out* A̷H̷—!

Before he can react again— second injection, deeper

Alastor: *breathing hitching violently, voice unraveling into static* Wh—what did you—?! *body tenses… then falters*

The glow in his eyes flickers—unstable

Adam: *still holding him, voice low, steady* Easy. Easy… you’re alright.

Alastor: *disoriented now, blinking unevenly* Adam…? *grip weakens, claws trembling instead of digging in. Quiet, confused* What is… happening?

Adam: *thumb brushing against his cheek, softer now* It’s okay. We’re fixing it *swallows, forcing calm into his voice* You just need to take a nap for a bit.

Alastor: *eyes widening slightly, panic sparking through the haze* No—no, I—! *his breathing spikes again, weaker but frantic. grabbing weakly at Adam’s sleeve. his voice fractures, fear slipping through fully now* I can’t—feel it—I can’t—!

Adam: *leaning closer immediately, pressing his forehead briefly to his* Hey. Hey—listen to me *his grip tightens* I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

Alastor: *shaking faintly, voice small, unraveling* Something’s wrong—Adam, something’s—

Adam: *firm, but gentle* I know. I know it is *softer now* That’s why we’re helping you.

Alastor’s eyes flicker again—the glow dimming, control slipping.

Alastor: *barely above a whisper* …Don’t let…egg… break…

Adam: *quiet, steady I won’t* he squeezes his hand* I’ve got you.

Alastor’s breathing slows—uneven… then heavier. His grip loosens completely. The light in his eyes fades to a dull flicker… then goes still.

Vox: *checking quickly, clinical* He’s under. We’re proceeding!

Lucifer: *already moving to get things ready for when the egg is out*

The room is tight with focus—no one speaking unless necessary

Vox: *gloved hands steady, voice clipped* Scalpel.

Metal presses, then parts—clean, precise. He works fast, but not sloppy. Vox goes deeper than expected, expression tightening slightly

Vox: …It’s lodged.

Adam: *standing off to the side, jaw clenched, deliberately looking anywhere but the table* …Just—get it out.

Vox: *focused, adjusting his grip* I have to reposition it first *reaches in further—careful, controlled* There’s resistance

He shifts, applying pressure the opposite direction—dislodging it from where it’s stuck. For a moment—nothing— then a sudden give.

Vox: There *he pulls—slow at first, then steady*

Finally, the egg emerges. It’s large… unnaturally so. Its surface a swirl of abstract greens and yellows, etched with faint veve-like symbols.

But it’s fractured—cracks webbing across nearly the entire shell.

Adam: *glancing despite himself, breath catching* God damn…

Vox: *already moving* Incubator. Now.

Lucifer steps in, composed but intent. The incubator he’d manifested beside him, softly glowing with controlled warmth.

Lucifer: *calm, precise* Place it here.

Vox sets the egg down carefully.

Lucifer immediately places his hands against it—gentle, almost reverent. He closes his eyes, feeling for life energy.

Lucifer: *quietly* …There is life *his expression tightens just slightly* But not enough.

The cracks shift faintly—unstable

Lucifer: If it hatches now… it will not survive *hands begin to glow a soft, golden light spilling over the shell.*

Slowly… carefully… he traces along each fracture. The cracks begin to seal gold filling the lines, binding the shell back together until the egg is whole again—its surface now laced with glowing golden veins.

Lucifer: *exhaling quietly as he finishes* …That will hold *he adjusts the incubator temperature, sealing it closed* It needs time *lingers for a brief second… then turns back. Behind him—Vox hasn’t stopped

Vox: *focused, already continuing the procedure* We’re not done *hands move quickly—repairing, closing* He’s lost too much stability already.

Adam: *finally looking back, quieter now* …Is he gonna make it?

Vox: *without looking up* If I do my job—yes…If nothing else goes wrong.

the rhythm breaks—subtle at first… then all at once

Vox: *hands moving fast, stitching, stabilizing* Come on… come on—

the monitors flicker* …No *he presses harder, trying to compensate* No, no, no—stay with me—

Something gives internally—wrong, catastrophic.

The sudden absence of pressure—organs already strained—shift, rupture.

The readouts spike… then drop.

Vox: *freezing … silence—thick, suffocating*

Adam: *stepping forward, dread creeping in* …Why did you stop?

Vox: *staring down, hands still hovering, stained* I— *screen glitches—once… twice* I didn’t— *lets out a sharp, broken laugh* …That’s funny.

another laugh—louder, unraveling

Vox: That’s— that’s really funny—

Adam: *realizing, voice dropping* …No *looks at Alastor—still. Too still. Shaking his head* No—NO—

Vox: *laughing now, hysterical, tears glitching down his screen* I did everything right—everything—! I followed procedure—I compensated—I—! *chokes on the next breath*

Adam: *snaps—lunging forward, grabbing Vox by the collar* YOU SAID YOU COULD DO IT—!

he slams him back

Adam: YOU SAID YOU KNEW HOW—!

Vox: *not even resisting, laughing through it* I did—I̸̹̫̎͌͘͝ ̵̩̳̞̘͍̈̍̾̀̓d̷͚̘̱͍̯̺̞̘̫̹͉̹̱̼͊́̈́͛̈͌̀̒̓͝͝͝o̵̡̡̰̦͍̼̺̣̰̠̘̹͉͐̾̿̅͛̒̽͛͑͘͘—̴̡̠̖̪̺͔̭͉͔̈́̏!̴̺̰̖̠̰͙̤̓

his voice distorts, breaking apart

Vox: I̴̟͉̚͘t̷̞͍̫̬͋̑̑̈̽͜ ̴̢̮̖͔̱̆͛͝s̷̛͔̜̬̝͛h̶̟̫́̏͆͝ǒ̵̧̱͉̥͔u̶̧͈̪̤͋ͅḻ̸̦̋̓͝d̴̩̬͕̘̀ ̴̞̭̪̗̼̀̊̇̌ȟ̶̖͇̔̌͜a̸̹͒ṽ̷̩̣ͅė̶̺̟̣̄̆̊ ̷̻͉̼͖̣͊̓̃͂͠w̵̯̉̌͜o̵͇̙̽r̵̢̩̙̹̪̾̃́̚k̶̺̭͙̗̾͐ĕ̶̤̟̇ḑ̸̅̚͠—̵͇̀!̴̙̟̤̈́̾̐͜

Adam raises a fist—

Lucifer: *firm, stepping in instantly, grabbing Adam and pulling him back* Enough!

Adam: *struggling against him* He killed him—!

Lucifer: *sharp* No. No angelic steel was used *he looks toward Alastor’s body—still, but not final* He will regenerate. It will… just take time.

Adam: *breathing hard, shaking* …How long?

Lucifer: *quietly* I don’t know…

Adam stills—anger collapsing into something heavier

behind them—Vox is still laughing

but it’s falling apart now—fracturing into something raw

Vox: *voice hitching, quieter but worse* …Twice *his hands shake, staring at the blood covering them* I tried— I actually tried… *his screen flickers—distorted with grief* And I still—

his voice drops to a whisper

Failed.

the laughter dies completely

Vox: *barely audible* …I buried her *his shoulders shake—subtle at first, then not* And now him too— he chokes, voice breaking entirely

Lucifer’s words echo in his head—clear, cutting. “You were a failure in life… and you’re a failure now.”

Alastor: *grimacing, clutching the sheets* My, what dreadful timing… I do hate inconvenience.

Adam: *kneeling beside him, tense* Yeah, well, this isn’t about your schedule. Stay with me.

Alastor: *laugh faltering, voice glitching* Oh, I assure you… I’m trying.

The air crackles, a faint glow forming now visible through Alastor’s abdominal skin.

Adam: *eyes narrowing* …Was that supposed to happen?

Alastor: *uncontrollably making radio feedback noises, his breathing uneven* Don’t you know?!

Adam: How the fuck would I know?! I had kind not birds!

Alastor: *grabs his husband by the collar, dragging him down and going demonic* I swear to whatever entities are listening I will g̷l̷i̷†̷c̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷#̷$̷%̷@̷!̷ ̷y̷o̷u̷ ̷i̷f̷ ̷t̷h̷i̷s̷ ̷g̷o̷e̷s̷ ̷$̷%̷^̷&̷!̷

The room warps with radio static, shadows twitching along the walls

Adam: *not backing down, grabbing Alastor’s wrists* Hey—HEY! Not the time for your demon meltdown!

Alastor: *snarling, voice layered with static and something deeper* It is cracking too early—do you understand what that implies?!

The egg pulses again, the crack spreading a fraction further, a sharp, wrong sound echoing

Adam: *jaw tightening, glancing down* Then tell me what to do instead of threatening to ████ me!

Alastor: *breathing hitching, control slipping in and out* It means something is wrong—violently, catastrophically w̷r̷o̷n̷g̷—

Another pulse—stronger. The glow flickers erratically

Adam: *forcing his voice steady* Okay. Then we fix it. We’ve handled worse.

Alastor: *laughs, sharp and unstable* Have we now? Because I don’t recall ever laying an egg on the verge of f̷%̷#̷@̷i̷n̷g̷ collapse—

The egg gives a jagged twitch, the crack splintering slightly

Alastor: body seizing, claws digging in as the glow distorts painfully Ngh—! …It’s— stuck.

The egg bulges visibly, pressure straining his frame—hairline cracks deepening with a sharp, splintering sound

Adam: eyes widening, panic creeping in That’s… that’s not supposed to happen.

Alastor: *voice breaking into static, breath hitching hard* My pelvis—too narrow

Another contraction—stronger. The crack spreads, a dull fracture sound echoing

Alastor: *grabbing Adam again, frantic now* You will either break the bone… or cut it out.

Adam: *freezing, horrified* I—what?! No! I’m not a damn surgeon!

Alastor: *snarling, eyes blazing, voice layered with something monstrous* Then become useful—or I will g̷l̷i̷†̷c̷h̷i̷n̷g̷ ̷#̷$̷%̷@̷!̷ ̷r̷i̷p̷ ̷m̷y̷s̷e̷l̷f̷ ̷o̷p̷e̷n̷—

His claws twitch dangerously against his own abdomen

Adam: *grabbing his wrists hard* Hey! NO. You’re not doing that!

The egg gives another strained push—cracks thickening, a faint, uneven pulse from within

Adam: *breathing fast, mind racing* Think—think—there’s gotta be—

Alastor: *through clenched teeth, barely holding it together* There is. *he locks eyes with Adam, deadly serious* Get Baxter.

Adam: *staring at him* …You’re joking.

Alastor: *glare sharp enough to cut* Does this appear to be a moment for humor?

Another sharp crack—louder this time

Alastor: voice dropping, urgent, dangerous Fetch him. Now. Or I will ████ing do this myself.

his claws press harder, just shy of breaking skin

Adam: swallowing hard, then nodding …Okay. Okay—fine.

He carefully but quickly lifts Alastor, trying not to jostle him

Adam: *low, worried despite himself* Just—don’t die on me before I get back, alright?

Alastor: *weak, strained laugh flickering through static* My dear… you seem to have forgotten… I’m already dead…

The egg pulses again—uneven… cracking further as Adam moves

Adam: *leans down and kisses Alastor’s forehead* Don’t fucking even— *pauses*

Alastor: *lets himself whimper, a tear running down his face*