#mediapple

At that sight, that single act of Lilith against Alastor, the pain in Lucifer's heart flared up, and his voice grew harsher. "Lilith, please, stop. You can't control Roo!"

The Queen of Sin barely lifted her head in his direction, her gaze empty, indifferent to his pleading. "Control him? Roo's already awake, there's nothing left to stop." Her elegant, voluptuous form emerged from behind the chair, towering over Alastor's seated figure. He seemed to have slipped back into a trance, his usual smile almost gone. "Maybe..." Lucifer began, letting go of his demonic form to appear less threatening. His hair and clothes deflated, draping over his thin, small frame, and his eyes returned to their golden hue, revealing a worried expression that contrasted with the aggression from moments before. He took a tense step forward, reaching out his dark hands toward Lilith, gazing up at her with furrowed brows and arched eyebrows. "...maybe Alastor can stop him. You need to give him back his soul, break the pact that binds you to him. It's the only hope that—" "Alastor can stop him?!" the woman interrupted sharply, her icy eyes widening. "How could he? He's a puppet, barely able to manage the little power he has left."

"I... I don't know," Lucifer swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing a nervous smile in an awkward attempt to seem agreeable. "But there's something, someone inside him who knew this would happen, and maybe... maybe he can stop Roo."

"Ah! Really?" she exclaimed with a touch of sarcasm, yanking the chain abruptly. The metallic clink forced a startled Alastor to his feet. The movement was so sudden that the Half-Deer slammed into the chair before stumbling back against her chest—she stood slightly taller than him.

"...!" Lucifer flinched, his body stiffening as if he were about to lunge toward them, but he remained frozen in place. His eyes widened, full of terror. His hands hovered in midair, as pale lights began to flicker behind him: the portals bringing Heaven's angels. He couldn't reason with her. In that moment, it felt as though his wife's heart had been encased in a thick layer of stone. Had it always been this way? Cold, detached, devoid of mercy... soulless?

"Lilith... why are you doing this? To him... to me?!" he burst out, his voice rising as his sharp jaws ground together. But more than anger, there was a deep desperation in his expression. "Why... why do you hate me so much?!"

He dropped his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists, crackling with golden magic like electric sparks. His heart felt like it was burning and freezing at the same time. He couldn't recall ever feeling this much emotional destruction before, not even during his fall from Heaven. No, definitely not. She had been by his side then. And now, she was his worst enemy. Worse than Roo himself, because she was fully aware of what she was doing—she could choose, and she was choosing bitterness, vengeance, and destruction.

"Mmh, hate you...?" Lilith's simple question froze him in place. She was amused, her lips curving into a slight smile, her eyes filled with innocent, curious surprise, as though the angel had just asked her something absurd. "...Hate? Too noble for someone like you... for a little..." she hissed the last word with venomous disdain, "...insignificant angel, crushed by his own choices."

"..." Lucifer was left speechless, incredulous.

"...Look at you," she sneered, lifting her chin to force him to meet her eyes. Her icy gaze looked down from above his small Seraphic form. "A rebellious angel, full of hopes that first led the world, then all of creation, to ruin. Condemned to manage souls who abused the free will you introduced them to. And then... who fell in love with one of the worst souls, one that knowingly used that freedom to cause pain and death..."

Her voice dripped with venom as she continued, her left gloved hand—while her right still held the chain near Alastor's animal ears—sliding down his chest, unbuttoning his jacket slowly, slipping between the suspenders that held up his red shirt, and undoing the buttons with ease. Lucifer couldn't look away from the scene, frozen just a few feet in front of them, with Alastor facing him and Lilith towering behind, clutching and touching him with lascivious intent.

"...And now you want to save him, but you're not capable," Lilith continued, running her tongue over her lips. "You left him for days under the hands of a mere Overlord, subjected to his abuses... and you think you can save him from me?" She arched her eyebrows in amusement. After unbuttoning a few buttons, her fingers trailed through the reddish fur covering Alastor's bare chest, illuminated by the broken voodoo symbols floating in the air, emerging from his scarred wounds. "You couldn't protect your kingdom, your souls. You never saw them as yours, did you? What do you even understand about the human soul?" Lilith's words hissed like poisoned daggers. "You... creature of light. Where's your light, Lucifer? Where's your love for others, the one that should give you the courage to save them? To stand up, to rebel against the rules of beings who don't even know if they're right or wrong?"

It was at that very moment, when the Queen's claws scraped across a small symbol shaped like crossed arrows, that Alastor tensed, clenching his claws into fists at his sides.

The shadow of the Red Demon stretched far beyond him, spilling past Lucifer's feet and rising behind him, cast high against the windows of the Radio Tower. The shadow, ignoring its master's movements, grew taller than the Seraph, entirely black. It snarled silently at the woman, visibly enraged, its jaws and eyes glowing a toxic, acid green.

Meanwhile, down in Hell, especially at the Hazbin Hotel, the annoying music had finally stopped, but the stormy chaos that had taken over everything was far from over. Visibility was almost nonexistent, and the abyssal winds made it nearly impossible for the exorcist angels to fly, as they fought an exhausting battle against Roo's tentacles and creatures.

In addition to the red and black tendrils rising from the cracks in the ground, millions of tiny creatures—sharp-eyed monsters—threw themselves at anything in sight, adding to the confusion of the battle.

Archangel Michael, wielding his Flaming Sword, showed an agility and ferocity befitting his name as he tore through the creatures targeting him. But unlike him, the exorcists fell by the dozen.

Slicing through a massive tentacle, Michael hovered in the air, his great celestial wings flapping. He was tired, and though he did everything he could to maintain composure, he had lost some of it. He was not just a commander but the General of the Heavenly Legions, and he couldn't show weakness in front of the other angels, let alone the demons. Yet what he saw burned through his soul with a terror he had never known in all his existence.

The exorcists kept falling, and with every angel who died, it felt like a piece of his soul was being ripped away. He had never seen Hell in this state before—was this the apocalypse he was supposed to face? Everything looked so different from the prophecies, nothing like what he had prepared for. It was all so absurd, and even he didn't know what to call it. How could he not have been warned about this?

Clad in an elegant suit with blue and gold accents, wrapped in silver armor that protected his chest, shoulders, and legs, Michael radiated his own light, a beacon in the darkness. His medium-length blonde hair whipped in the abyssal wind, and his halo, blazing like a crown above his head, made him impossible to miss.

Charlie spotted him as she ventured into the courtyard, her face wide-eyed, staring at the sky. Just then, another exorcist crashed violently to the ground, dead, far too close to her for comfort, causing her to jump.

"Eehk!"

"Charlie! Get out of there, stay close to the hotel!" Vaggie shouted imperatively from the hotel entrance, gripping her spear.

"That's Michael, Vaggie! I know it, I've seen illustrations in Mom's books! They've come to help us!" Charlie squealed with a hopeful smile.

"Like hell they have!" Vaggie thundered, making the princess flinch. "They're here to wipe us all out! If we survive, they'll finish us off!"

"Adam..! Adam!" Lute was kneeling beside Adam, who was still chained and collapsed on the hotel's front steps, having dragged himself out of the doorway. He was unconscious now that the song had ended. She shook him with her good hand, trying to wake him, but the demon didn't stir. She bent down, pressing her ear to his chest: he was still breathing, and his heart was beating.

"At least he's alive."

Vaggie shot her a fierce glare and yelled, "Charlie! Move! We've got to get the other three out of the basement!"

Charlie nodded and started running toward the hotel, narrowly avoiding the upper half of an exorcist who had been sliced in two by one of Roo's tentacles.

"Oh, shit! They're killing everyone, Vag—" she started to growl as she ran for the entrance, but suddenly found herself suspended in the air. A massive tentacle had emerged from a crack in the ground and grabbed her by the waist. Charlie let out a scream, immediately shifting into her demon form—or at least, as far as she could go—her long hair flaring between her horns as Vaggie screamed in despair, "CHARLIE!"

Vaggie's scream echoed through the storm, slicing through the abyssal wind until it reached Michael, who was still hovering in the air, panting, struggling to catch his breath. The archangel lowered his bright blue eyes toward the Hazbin Hotel's courtyard, just as Adam twitched slightly. The First Man's eyes snapped open, staring at the steps of the building, still prone.

Vaggie's scream pierced the air and echoed through the infernal chaos, cutting through the interior of the Radio Tower like a blade. It struck Lucifer's mind like a lightning bolt, filling him with utter despair. Did Lilith hear it? As the sounds of battle seeped through the walls, like an omen, the Queen showed no signs of wavering. Her gloved fingers continued pressing against Alastor's chest, causing him to tremble in pain.

The sinner had hunched over slightly and was drooling and swelling again, still bound by those stitches that, by now, were clearly holding something back, something that was desperate to break free. His shadow was still there, thick with broken Voodoo symbols, looming menacingly over the glass behind Lucifer, but unable to do anything beyond threatening with its jagged, acid-green eyes.

"Lilith! That's enough! Stop Roo, now!" the Seraphim suddenly thundered at his wife.

The First Woman responded by darkening her gaze and tightening her grip around the violet chain. Then, with a violent yank, she snapped the collar around Alastor's neck, breaking it with a clean crack.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. The loud "crack" made his skin crawl; his red pupils shrank into tiny pinpricks, reflecting the Half-Deer's image as he spewed blood from his jaws, his neck twisted in an unnatural position.

...

"Where is Lucifer?! Why isn't he here?!" Lute roared, wielding her angelic sword in the direction of a massive tentacle writhing in the air. Charlie writhed within its grasp, while Vaggie, her face twisted in fear, desperately searched for a weak spot. Neither noticed Adam's faint groan, still immobilized nearby.

The First Man felt a searing pain in his chest and suddenly retched, expelling a thick, black mass from his throat with a "Bluargh!" Around him, chaos reigned. Visibility was minimal, but above all, the chaos was in his head. His vision was blurry, and he couldn't focus; his soul ached, as did his bones, and he was completely smeared in pitch, red blood, and... gold? Whose blood was that?

Somehow, he managed to place his knees on the ground, his legs finally breaking free from the chains cutting into his flesh. He crawled upward, lifting his head, only to see scattered pieces of exorcists strewn across the courtyard. ... He felt a chill run through him.

"Lucifer's in the Radio Tower, talking to Lilith!" Vaggie's voice forced Adam to lift his head further, terror rising in his chest. Just a few meters from him stood Lute, her back to him, and in the air, a frantic Vaggie, trying to strike the enormous tentacle. Charlie struggled too, stabbing her trident into the creature, though it had no effect.

"Lilith created all of this! She's the one who awakened this monster! She's the only one who can stop it, but she's not thinking straight! She's lost her mind! Why isn't she listening?!" Vaggie's voice grew even more desperate.

At those words, Adam's fear transformed into a sudden surge of rage. His eyes blackened, and his pupils turned red as he saw a bolt of light streak down from the sky. Michael, like a golden lightning bolt, flew beneath Charlie, brandishing his Flaming Sword, and sliced the tentacle clean in half.

The upper portion of the dark tendril crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, bringing the Princess down with it.

Adam still couldn't focus properly or move, growling as he clawed at the ground, his chains clanking loudly. His mind was a storm of thoughts, as chaotic as the tempest raging around him. Lilith? Lilith was in the Radio Tower? Was she the one who had driven everyone mad? Oh, of course—he remembered that disgusting feeling, created without a doubt by a disgusting woman. She had lied to him, made him believe that awakening Roo would allow him to save Eve, and now here they were, killing each other, watching even his third world of peace collapse.

Once Eden. Then Heaven. And now... Hell?

And Lucifer? Was he still in on this, planning to tear everything down alongside her?

At that moment, Adam finally caught sight of Michael's feet touching down on the courtyard pavement, and he heard Lute's voice.

"Michael..."

"Michael!" Her voice grew increasingly desperate as she rushed toward the Archangel.

"Michael, watch out!"

At the exact moment Alastor's body hit the floor with a thud, Lucifer snarled, exploding with inhuman speed toward Lilith. The room filled with eerie spectral eyes whirling madly alongside Voodoo symbols, while the angel, now fully in his demonic form, slammed his wife against one of the windows, shattering the glass into a thousand fragments.

"WHAT... what have you done, Lilith! You... you've gone mad! You've lost your mind!" Lucifer growled, spitting fire, his face inches from Lilith's, whose eyes were now wide with disbelief. "If you can control Roo, stop him! You have to stop him, now!"

Some shards from the window fell into the courtyard, just as Adam, lifting his head once more, saw a massive tendril pierce through Michael's shoulder.

Adam watched as Michael fell, impaled by the tentacle, and something inside him snapped. It wasn't just rage. It was a primordial fury, a wrath buried deep in his soul since his rebirth as a demon. In that moment, man became beast. The chains shattered like glass under the force of his anger. As the metal clattered to the ground and another gigantic tentacle wrapped perilously around the Hotel's structure, the First Man's leathery wings exploded from his back, propelling him forward. He dove to snatch an Angelic Sword from the ground and shot up like lightning toward the Radio Tower.

As Lucifer gripped his wife at the ledge, another violent force was building. From the courtyard, Adam's fury swelled like a storm. The two, bound by the fate of creation, were both blinded by rage—one against his wife, the other against destiny itself. The trembling of the Hotel resonated all the way to the Radio Tower, but Lucifer didn't care; his horns were out, his eyes ablaze with fury, and his wings twisted within the cramped room. But all he could see was Lilith's madness.

"You don't care about anyone anymore, not even Charlie?! You're going to get her killed too!" he shouted at her.

Lilith froze. Pure terror flashed across her face like an electric shock. The First Woman's eyes darted toward the courtyard below, searching for someone, just as the snarling figure of Adam leaped into the air behind her, wielding the angelic sword with both hands.

Adam's wings spread wide behind him, his body taut with momentum. The sword cut through the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. Lucifer heard the blade's hiss as it barely grazed his face, a blink of an eye before Lilith's head was severed from her body. The Seraph found himself staring, red-eyed and pupil-less, at the demon's figure beyond his wife's decapitated form.

...

The angel's eyes gradually widened, his mouth hanging open in shock. Then the blood, hot and thick, began to spurt, splashing across his face. Inside him, everything stopped: time, sound, even the beating of his heart. The sensation was indescribable—everything felt muffled, distant, as though his mind had detached from his body, dissociating from the reality around him.

Yet, in truth, everything continued to unfold. The Wedding Band encircling the last finger of his left hand glowed with a faint white light, transforming momentarily into the chain of a pact. Then, it snapped, disintegrating into nothingness.

The same happened around Alastor's neck, where the violet collar glowed dimly before shattering and disappearing. The shadow of the Half-Deer, projected on the wall, retracted toward his limp body, melting like dark liquid, entirely absorbed by the inert figure.

When the last drop was absorbed, Alastor convulsed. His neck twisted unnaturally, emitting eerie bone-cracking sounds, regenerating at a speed a thousand times faster than normal, and he awoke. Placing both claws on the floor, he stood up. The abyssal wind continued to blow beneath the tails of his coat, which he carefully buttoned up along with his shirt.

Then, he extended his right arm, opening his hand wide, and with crackling bursts of shadow, his staff appeared. The top was shaped like a microphone encased in a shell-like protection.

Gripping the staff tightly, he twirled it around and turned fully toward the scene that had just unfolded behind him. His eyes gleamed in two different shades of green, the X glowing acid-bright on his forehead, the enormous symbol of Kalfu swirling behind him like a frame among the others, all linking back together. With a wide, yellowed grin etched on his face, he spoke in a deep, masculine voice that wasn't his own:

"Oh, so here I am. Is this where the apocalypse begins...?"

"Oh, Voxy~" he replied mockingly. "A truce? After everything you did to me? Seriously?" The Deer Demon tapped his shoe on the floor, slowly rising to his feet. Every movement was calculated, almost predatory.

Alastor's rise felt like a weight bearing down on the other Sinner, who withdrew his head into his shoulders, standing frozen in the middle of the circular room. The visibility was minimal, dominated by reds and blacks interrupted by green glimmers; the glitchy blue light of his screen shone like a small, out-of-place beacon. The presence of Alastor was oppressive—overwhelming—but it also stirred something in Vox. He'd never felt his desire for him this vividly. Yes, he'd always wanted him, but now... it was unbearable. He was terrified, yet he needed Alastor to come closer. The Radio Demon was doing just that, moving slowly, hands clasped behind his back and his cane parallel to the floor.

"Heh... yeah, maybe it's a crazy request," Vox replied without looking at him, eyes fixed downward. "But what happened out there... If we want to survive, we have to join forces. I can help with your power; I have the resources. We can't afford to be enemies anymore. Just look at what we created together... the Apocalypse." He gave a tense smile, not even believing his own words.

"AHAHAH~" Alastor threw his head back, his laughter echoing through the room. He stepped closer to Vox, closing the distance even further. "You drugged me... hypnotized me. And now you come here, wounded and desperate, begging for my help?" he hissed, his radio-effected voice dense with contempt.

Vox, visibly nervous, took a step back but couldn't hide his mounting frustration.

"I'm not here begging. I don't have a choice. The apocalypse that just passed... it affects you, too. It's about your soul... the pact with Lilith," he said, raising his voice slightly and meeting Alastor's gaze head-on. "We can't afford to fight each other when everything has fallen apart."

"Mmh..." Alastor hummed, sounding bored as he unclasped his hands from behind his back. "I have my soul again, my power, and... Hell is no longer my concern," he admitted.

At those words, Vox stiffened, a frown forming. "You have your soul again? Then that means... and Lilith?!" His eyes widened with a strange awareness.

"Oooh yes!" the Deer Demon exclaimed loudly. He raised both arms in the air, swinging his cane with a gesture of joy. "It's exactly what you're thinking, my dear Flat Face. So... relax~" he hummed musically, "Lilith won't be coming back to tear you to shreds." His smile stretched, his tone turning sly. "We personally watched her head come clean off. Slice!" he cheered with enthusiasm, but now—alongside his voice—a deeper, ancient one joined in. "...her neck began to spurt blood, painting Lucifer like a marvelous flower!" The voices spoke in unison under Vox's stunned stare. "Oh, Voxy..." Alastor's radio-tinged voice returned, pinning his gaze onto the terrified Sinner's eyes. "...you should have seen Lucifer's face. He'll never recover from the trauma." Amused.

The Media Demon stood wide-eyed, shocked. He could barely move. He should have felt great relief at these revelations, but something continued gnawing at his insides. "So..." He paused, trying to shake off the dryness in his mouth. "...so you have your power back?" Sweat began to flicker across his screen. "Better, right? We're free to create whatever we desire, to control every single corner of Hell."

The Deer Demon didn't respond immediately, taking his time, fully aware he had total control of the conversation. He looked him over from head to toe, relishing seeing him like this: fragile, without a mask, stripped of all control. It must have taken Vox tremendous effort to come here and request an alliance. He must be truly desperate. He probably thought he'd find Alastor still weakened, but he'd guessed wrong: he was more than he could ever imagine. It was the perfect moment to toy with him.

"You seem tense, Voxy. Why don't you take a seat?" he said, snapping the fingers of his left hand.

Behind the TV Demon appeared a large armchair, shrouded in a swirl of green sorcery. Vox barely had time to notice it before a pair of tentacles wrapped around his body, pulling him down into it. He sat with a growl, his antennae electrified on the small black cylinder. He swallowed dryly, watching the tentacles retract as the tension grew, numbing his muscles.

"Heh-heh... yeah, this is better," he chuckled awkwardly, visibly uncomfortable, in a clumsy attempt to ease the situation. He knew he looked more ridiculous than sincere.

His expression turned to surprise when he caught Alastor's shoes before him. His gaze traveled up, finding the Deer Demon standing between his parted knees. In that position, the red Sinner towered over him, and his smile weighed like a boulder on his shoulders. Vox flushed, feeling a powerful heat in his chest. Then, realizing it, he quickly shook his head, trying to regain his composure, and gritted his teeth. He gripped the armrests tightly, lowering his gaze once more.

"We were..." he began, uncertain. "...we were so close. I'd never had a friend like you... someone I could trust completely." As he spoke, his voice grew less shaky but also quieter, as if each word carried a melancholy nostalgia. "The media world is full of sharks, you know... Everyone stays close for interests, for business, but you..." He paused. "You stayed close to me because you wanted to." he whispered hoarsely, lifting a sad, curious gaze to Alastor. "Is that true?"

The Deer Demon's smile widened, revealing his yellowed teeth. "It is." he admitted.

Vox sank into melancholy.

Alastor continued, "You were a frightened demon, but I knew you could become much more, and you did, Vox." The seated Sinner's name sounded distorted. Vox let out another nervous chuckle. "Heh... yeah." "I... I didn't want it to end. I wanted it to continue forever, to grow, even more than we were... together, as allies, as..." He stopped, lips trembling.

Alastor watched him with vivid curiosity, then took another step forward, his pants brushing the edge of the armchair, wedging himself between the other's legs.

Vox tensed suddenly, feeling overwhelmed by the closeness. He pressed his shoulders against the backrest, his uncertain eye fixed on Alastor's face. His scent made Vox's head spin: ancient, like an old suit locked in a wardrobe for a century, mixed with the smell of earth and plants, of a forest, and gunpowder.

"...lovers," he finally concluded.

…

In the meantime, Lucifer had more or less managed to pull himself together.

He'd taken a couple of showers—one just wasn't enough—and poured all his energy into recovering from the physical aches that had left him weakened. Pleasant aches, he had to admit. It was the first time Alastor had thrown himself at him like that—aside from the incident at VoxTek, where Alastor hadn't been himself. But most of all... had he said "I love you"? Seriously? He'd told Lucifer he loved him... just as he did. Now, Lucifer had all the time in the world to process that response.

As he donned his hat, standing motionless in front of the mirror that reflected the room still in shambles from the previous night, he felt his chest tighten. An anxious sensation gripped him. Was this a good feeling? Wasn't he in love? So why did he feel so much anxiety? He clutched his vest with his claws, clenching his teeth. No, it wasn't a good feeling. He was certainly in love, yes, but their bond was anything but healthy. He felt possessiveness, desire, fear of losing him or being destroyed by him, by whatever bound them together. Was this his new hell? The chains of that demon, now a true demigod with a power that eclipsed his own, held nothing healthy. Alastor was not sane. He was not good. But... he was just. After all, justice is neither good nor evil; it sits perfectly in the center. There can be justice by law and justice... by chaos. Even chaos has its own rules.

"Ugh, enough thinking!" Lucifer burst out, clutching his hat. In that moment, he felt an overwhelming urge to lock himself in a room with Alastor and never leave, to shut out the whole world as if it didn't exist. He could do it. But first, he had to take care of unfinished business. He had to speak with Charlie.

He started down the hallway, breathing in the less stifling air of the open corridor. The hotel looked different—now he could clearly see it. His bond with the Radio Demon told him Alastor was still somewhere in the building, and that reassured him. He would reach him once he'd taken care of this... issue. What kind of issue?

Without realizing it, he found himself at the door of Charlie and Vaggie's room. A small sign with a heart—"C&V"—hung from one of the door handles. The angel frowned with sadness; Charlie shouldn't have to pay for any kind of hell. Why Regina? This was all his fault. Lilith was dead. The thought resurfaced, stabbing him like a knife.

He knocked a couple of times. "Charlie... sweetheart?" he called timidly.

Footsteps sounded frantically inside, and then the door flew open, revealing Charlie's disheveled and desperate figure. She looked at her father and, with a cry of "Dad!" threw herself into a crushing hug.

The Seraph stood frozen, tightly squeezed by his daughter, his neck practically retracting into his shoulders as he offered a tense smile. "H-hey, Chachar!"

"Oh, Dad, you're okay! At least you're okay!" Charlie continued to hug him with such force that, in normal circumstances, he could easily have withstood it. But now he was all bruised. Pain shot through him, and he gently placed his hands on her shoulders to ease her back a bit.

"Yes, of course, I'm fine. Alastor took care of me."

Charlie, her eyes swollen with tears, looked at him with fear. "Alastor..." she repeated. "Where is he?" She scanned the hallway nervously, as if looking for something dangerous.

"He said he needed to take care of an issue and would join us later, don't worry. I think he's concerned for you too... in his own way, hehe." Nervous chuckle. "Come on, let's go in... sit down, you're still shaken up." He guided her back into the room and shut the door behind them.

The room looked as it always had; nothing inside had changed since the hotel's previous reconstruction. Maybe Alastor had left the rooms as the occupants wanted, to make them feel comfortable. Yes... now Lucifer could say he understood him. The Radio Demon was incapable of expressing his emotions because he saw them as weaknesses. And indeed, they were, especially in a place like Hell. But one only needed to notice those small details to understand the affection he held for each member of the hotel. Probably even Husk. After all, wasn't this place Purgatory? Even Husk had been granted a chance for redemption.

Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around herself. She wore only her white shirt and pants; her hair was loose and messy, with no style, as if she'd been tossing and turning somewhere. Her gaze was rimmed with dark circles and puffiness. Who knew how much she'd cried, how badly she'd slept.

Lucifer looked at her, his heart aching, and calmly approached, removing his hat and placing it on the nightstand next to the bed. "...." He had no words. He should've thought beforehand about what to say. What was he supposed to tell her now? Hi Charlie, how are you? Oh, I know your mother was decapitated; all that blood you saw on me was hers. I've already recovered because I knew what a bitch she was, because I have Alastor by my side, and now I can selfishly be with him without any issues, but you... you never knew the truth because I never told you as I should have. For you, it's just pain.

"So... uh..." Lucifer began with total nonchalance, looking around with his hands on his hips. "Queen of Hell, huh...?"

"...." ... "What a load of nonsense!" Charlie burst out, running her hands through her tangled hair. Vaggie had already hinted at some of it. "You're the King of Hell, with or without Mom!"

Lucifer's eyebrows arched with sadness. "Oh, Charlie... wouldn't it be better this way? You wanted Hell to be a better place. You've seen how I didn't manage it over these thousands of years..." He took a step forward, moving closer to her.

The girl raised her tear-filled eyes. "Yes, but... can't we manage it together?"

"...." At that question, Lucifer remained silent, but the look he gave her spoke for him.

"...." ... "You want to stay here with Alastor...?"

"Yes... I mean, that's part of it... but isn't Purgatory the next step after Hell? Should I go back?"

"So you're saying I deserve to be in Hell?" she snapped.

"Oh no, Charlie!" Lucifer threw himself onto her, literally collapsing to his knees between her legs and resting his hands on her shoulders. He sought her tear-streaked, reddened face with his own, filled with sorrow. He was as desperate as she was, but mostly for her state. "You can't think that way. You're the only one who can make Hell a better place... thanks to you, there will be no more horrible places, no more abyss. Only phases of transition for souls that will choose whether to redeem themselves or stay in that place."

She looked at him, uncertain, her hands once again hiding her face. She began to sob. "But it's all so crazy. Why did Mom have to die? Why is everything destroyed?"

"We'll rebuild it, together. This isn't the first time we've done it. We'll bring order to this chaos... Charlie, please, look at me!" Trembling lips and hands on his knees, Lucifer lifted his face, trying to catch his daughter's bowed head.

She hesitated but eventually peered out through her fingers.

"..." At that look, the angel melted, straightening his back and extending his arms to pull her into a warm embrace. This time it was a genuine embrace, filled with all the need for connection and comfort that moved both their souls. The need to soothe the solitude that, in some way, they both still carried within. Like a hole, a chasm that consumed them.

An embrace in the quiet semi-darkness of the room, while somewhere else, something very dangerous was unfolding.

In Kalfu's throne room, time hadn't stopped. But for Vox, it felt like it had started to slow down. Alastor had gotten too close, standing right in front of him, so near that he could hear the sizzling sound of his breath. The Radio Demon had made his cane disappear and seemed to be there for him, waiting for something.

"...do you remember," Vox resumed, forcing a tense, melancholy smile, "...when Mimzy burst into Hell's Jazz, chased by a pack of Hounds, interrupting your tap dance, and you got pissed off like a beast?" He kept his gaze fixed upward, toward Alastor's eyes, which observed him with detached curiosity. "...you were so drunk that you devoured everyone, and I had to carry you home. Ha-ha," he finished, his heart pounding. Anxiety was gnawing at his insides.

But Alastor said, "Oh yes. How could I forget? Mimzy is always so opportunistic." He chuckled.

Vox chuckled too, relaxing as he widened his smile, easing the tension in his brow. Alastor's laugh reassured him. He was magnificent. So inscrutable and, at the same time, vibrant. Filled with the duality of an old human and a monster.

Vox tapped his blue claws nervously on the armrest of the chair. The urge to touch Alastor was becoming overwhelming. He was so close. Alastor had come closer. He had saved him from the apocalypse. He was angry, yes—Vox had hypnotized and drugged him—but maybe, just maybe, he'd liked it. Impossible. He was toying with him, just as he always had.

"And do you remember..." Alastor resumed unexpectedly, "...when, during one of your first podcasts, that employee of yours barged in, protesting against the harsh working conditions you forced on him...?"

Vox flinched. "Oh right, damn it! Roger or maybe Rosier, what was his name? That damn unionist...to hell with him!" He exclaimed, filling with enthusiasm, and a bit instinctively, a bit deliberately, placed a hand on Alastor's side.

He wrapped his claws around the other Sinner's bony waist in a fluid motion that met no resistance—Alastor didn't move away. Sure, Vox felt his muscles contract, tense up, but the red demon leaned his hips even closer to his face. ...

He lowered the corners of his mouth, almost grazing the bottom edge of his screen, while still watching him from his seated position. The Half-Stag was still staring at him curiously, with that inscrutable smile of his.

Anxiety clawed its way back into the TV Demon's chest, but with it, a strange hope as well. So he really was interested? Then...

"Alastor..." He pronounced his name, adopting a serious, somber tone. ... "I...I'm sorry." He admitted, clutching his claws into the fabric of his jacket. "You...you know why I did it. You know it was because..." He faltered, lifting his other hand to find Alastor's ribcage.

The Radio Demon was especially thin and bony. They were nearly the same height, but Alastor's frame was slimmer than his own. Vox wanted to hold him, to feel him writhe in pleasure and pain under his fingers. Images of that moment on the table, and then on the bed in his apartment, returned to the TV Demon's mind. He had never imagined he'd have Alastor in that way, beneath him. His hands slid under the fabric of his jacket, touching the thinner material of the red shirt tucked neatly into his dark pants. With each movement of his fingers, the other sinner seemed to grow warmer.

"...because," he repeated. Alastor didn't pull away. He stayed still, and Vox lowered his gaze to his hips, averting it from his face. "...because I'm in love with you," he hissed between clenched jaws.

The shark demon's fingers trembled slightly as they neared Alastor's belt. His breathing grew heavy, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears. He could smell the acrid scent of gunpowder and dry leaves emanating from the red demon, so close, motionless in front of him, like a predator watching without moving.

"I...I didn't want things to end this way...eight years ago. I just wanted...I wanted you to stay with me. I know I was selfish... I won't force you to embrace all my modernity again, you saw, right...? I even prepared a setup just for you..."

His hands slid hesitantly along the fabric of the pants, reaching the buckle. He paused, hesitating, as if about to cross a boundary. Then, finally, his fingers began to fiddle with the belt buckle.

"And even the last time...I protected you. I kept you with me...I did it all...for this burning desire..." ... "And we can start over...from now. I can give you what you desire, you know that..."

Vox swallowed, feeling a spark of hope reignite within him. He lifted his head from the backrest, moistening his jaws with his tongue. The Radio Demon didn't step back, didn't resist. Heart pounding wildly, Vox moved closer, starting to unfasten the belt. His excitement began to press under the fabric of his pants, increasingly evident in his seated position. He was a breath away from realizing his most intimate desire, with the other's consent, when Alastor tilted his head slightly and, with a honeyed voice, said, "You're forgetting one thing, Voxy."

Vox froze, his eyes rising to meet Alastor's, surprised. "What?" he asked in a whisper, clinging to that fragile thread of hope.

Alastor's smile widened, and in that instant, the truth cut deeper than any blade. "That your feelings are none of my business."

In that same moment, the room splintered with a sharp crack. Vox's fingers stiffened abruptly, starting to tremble still hooked on the belt buckle, as a torrent of mad electric shocks coursed through them from the rest of his body.

A pair of thick black tentacles struck the back of Vox's screen, piercing through it from side to side, sending it into a frenzy. The tendrils writhed restlessly, slick in the air right in front of Alastor's abdomen, as the TV Demon sizzled, sparks of electricity flaring from his body to the ground. Where his face should have been, error messages and flashes of colors flickered, while his tense body convulsed and spasmed.

Alastor leaned further down toward him, brushing an antenna with his claws. He emitted a gurgling moan, veiled behind a static radio effect, shocking himself in the process.

"...I think I could accept your alliance ~"

At that exact moment, another pair of tentacles totally pierced Vox's rib cage, tangling with his body. The Radio Demon gave one last gasp before his screen came to a halt and was torn completely apart by the tendrils stuck there. He remained headless, from his neck sizzled the electrical wires that made up his internal system, and began to drip that same blood that dripped in abundance from his chest. Alastor stepped back a step, lifting Vox's lifeless body into the air. He raised his face and gaze, admiring his creation with a smirk. He barely winced with a pleasant, distorted effect at the blood that trickled over his head and face and began to lick it with relish. Then, spinning wildly on itself along with the tentacles-which sprang directly from his shoulders-he hurled it against one of the windows that wrapped around one entire side of the room. Vox's body violently smashed through the dark glass, falling back into the hotel's outer courtyard.

Outside, the sound of shattering glass came a moment before the lifeless body of the Media Demon. Valentino barely had time to lift his red eyes upward before he found himself covered in a myriad of black splinters followed by the body's trajectory violently hitting the ground at his feet. The Moth leapt backward, momentarily flaring its wings concealed in its coat, while Velvette let out a high-pitched scream. All the others present on the porch were also alarmed, turning away petrified, their eyes widened to stare at Vox's headless body, from which an immense pool of blood gradually widened. Angel Dust sprang to his feet, clutching Porchetta to his chest. " ... "

" V-V.."  Valentino, trembling, tried to pronounce his companion's name, but only managed to stumble over the words, lifting his face to the window again to frame Alastor's descent. A huge and very long tentacle of shadow dripped downward, touching the ground and dragging behind the figure of the Radio Demon. With his staff once again clutched between his fingers, the buckle of his pants slightly open, and the blood dripping from his hair cutting his right eye in half, Alastor reached the ground. With his back to the porch, his feet touched the ground just in front of Vox's body, separating him from Valentino and Velvette. " Al... Alastor! What happened?"  Vaggie exclaimed, shakily clutching his spear. " Oh, don't worry, Vaggie. I just got a pebble off my shoe ~ "  He answered her, in a musical tone, without looking at her. " It took me less time than I expected. Just as well, because I have more to do."  Staring at Valentino, however.

The Demon Moth had his gaze nailed on the Half Deer with a deeply incredulous expression, trying to realize the situation. Alastor sharpened his red eyes, lighting his smile with gradual and overwhelming menace.

"Is that why Adam was here? Why Mom was here... because of him?"

"Yes, but..." Summoning a surge of courage, Lucifer turned toward her, reaching for her shoulders. Charlie flinched, stiffening. "...Don't... don't get upset. I'll tell you everything, I'll be honest, I promise... I'm sorry, Charlie..." He felt the warmth of tears clouding his vision again, swallowing the lump in his throat. How could he ask her to stay calm when he himself was far from calm? Finally, he met her eyes, locking his gaze with hers.

"..." She was looking at him with a furrowed brow and a frightened expression, her mouth slightly open, but she was listening. Lucifer sighed and continued.

"Adam came here to have me warn his fiancée in Heaven... and to convince me, he blackmailed me, threatening to tell you everything I'm telling you now... to speak ill of your mother." "...I don't know what ties them together, but... she tried to kill him, then charmed him into trying to kill Alastor, as you saw yourself."

"..." Charlie stared at him, mouth agape, before snapping out of her stunned expression and arching her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a tense smile.

"Why kill Alastor?"

"Because... she's... eh-eh," Lucifer let out a nervous laugh, twisting his mouth into an awkward expression. "She's jealous of my relationship with him, but also because... uh... Alastor's soul belongs to her." He lowered his gaze. Speaking of Alastor brought a knot of anxiety to his stomach; he wanted him, he missed him, he felt broken, consumed by worry. It felt like grieving: the distance from the red demon was a kind of mourning. "I'm sorry I kept all of this from you. I didn't want you to suffer."

Charlie was frozen. Her mother had Alastor's soul? She wanted to ask her father why, since when, but nothing came out. All she felt was a deep sense of disappointment, fear, and her father's fingers tightening around her shoulders, though not in a way that hurt.

"Alastor is weak because she took his power, destroyed his staff," Lucifer continued, staring at his daughter's knees. Why was he here talking to her instead of going after him by force? He had the strength. Physically, yes—but not mentally. "And if he's with the Media Demon, it's my fault for demanding without listening to him... but if I tried to take him away now, he'd resist. I'd have to fight him..." His voice broke as hot tears began to stream from his eyes. Just then, he felt Charlie pull him into a tight embrace that knocked the breath out of him. He found himself resting his face on her shoulder, feeling her hands gently run through his hair in comforting strokes.

"It's okay, Dad, we'll just talk to Mom. I'm sure she'll give Alastor his soul back, and you two will find a solution."

But those words of hope felt like daggers to him. "..." "...I'll talk to Lilith, yes, but... I think she's still trying to wake Roo, along with the TV Demon."

...

2

PINPIN

Valentino's phone rang suddenly, and when he answered, "Voxy?"

The disheveled face of the Moth Demon appeared on the TV Demon's screen. He looked exhausted, like he'd been sleeping, with smeared lipstick and a cloud of reddish smoke swirling around him from his love filter.

"Val, move it! Get to the second floor of Velvette's tower, now!" Vox snarled impatiently, panting as he rushed down a long hallway painted in shades of purple and red, heading toward a neon blue door.

Valentino looked baffled. "But I'm busy—"

"BULLSHIT!" Vox interrupted, his voice suddenly exploding, distorted like he had a problem with his speakers. "Drop all your whores and get here, NOW!" He added, immediately pressing a button on his screen and hanging up the call. His sweaty, aggressive, and frantic expression reappeared on the TV face just before he stormed into Velvette's workspace.

One of the large double doors flew open, slammed by Vox's arm, reverberating loudly through the room and startling the jittery figure of Velvette, who had been hunched over her desk drawing.

The room was spacious and semicircular, lit by endless windows casting red hues behind the Sinner. She was wrapped in her long, striped blue, white, and red tails, the same colors as her top and bell-bottom pants, still seated at her desk, which was cluttered with sketches of all kinds of clothing designs.

"Hey! What the hell's wrong with you barging in like that?!" Velvette's red eyes, with white pupils, bulged as she glared at him, but Vox kept moving toward her.

"No time, you're coming with me!" he growled, completely out of control, reaching her desk.

She barely had time to straighten up and turn toward him, her mouth pulling down in total disapproval. "What the hell are you talking about, I'm wor—ehk! Hey, put me down! What's wrong with your circuits?!"

Vox lifted her effortlessly, grabbing her under her arms and hauling her up by the waist.

"Fucking walking TV, I'll kill you! Put me down, what the hell's gotten into you?!"

Valentino, followed by Angel Dust, caught up with Vox in the hallway, where Velvette's furious curses echoed.

As the Moth Demon finished adjusting his oversized red coat, he spotted the Sinner, hanging from Vox's side, thrashing wildly. Velvette clawed at Vox's immovable arm in a fit of rage and embarrassment, her face flushed crimson from the humiliating position she was in.

"Wh... what's going on, darling?" Valentino asked, eyebrows raised, mouth nearly hitting his chin as he looked up from Velvette to Vox's face, frantically trying to keep up with him as he stormed down the corridor. Vox kept moving toward the elevator, but when he turned to respond to Valentino, he froze, seeing Angel Dust trailing behind, equally confused and concerned, with the same smeared lipstick and messy tuft of hair.

A wave of irritation surged through Vox, causing his antennae to spark.

"And him—!" He cut himself off with a nervous crackle, swallowing hard. "Move! I think something's about to happen!"

...

The sound of the heavy metal door echoed inside the soundproof room, startling the three Sinners, leaving them baffled and afraid. Vox had already rushed ahead, positioning himself at a sleek modern desk equipped with multiple computer screens.

They found themselves in a rectangular room with no windows or exits. The walls were massive screens themselves, attached to soundproofing material that blocked out any external noise. The only sound was the frantic tapping of Vox's blue claws on the keyboard. Tense, his teeth grinding, he scanned the displays showing footage from various cameras: the exterior and entrance of the tower, Hazbin Hotel, a couple of main streets in Pentagram City, and the largest TV studio of all, though the feed was silent.

In that studio was Alastor, still there. He circled the curved desk, dragging his red claws across the back of the velvet armchair Vox had prepared for him. Then he sat in front of the microphone, his red eyes turning toward the cameras, the usual goofy smile plastered on his face, as if he were under the influence of some drug.

There was still time to stop everything, to prevent every TV in the Pride Ring from broadcasting the podcast—it was even set to air on some lower channels. What would happen? Alastor knew, but he hadn't said a word, not even under hypnosis.

Lucifer had said that someone was inside Alastor; was it Lilith? Was she involved in all of this? If it were something concerning her, surely the angel would have sensed it. There was still time, he could stop it, but... would it make things better or worse? He could cancel something whose consequences he didn't understand, or almost certainly collapse along with everything he had built, everything he cared about, everyone he cared about...

Vox stared at Alastor through the screens in the soundproof room, frozen, sweat streaking down his TV face, until... around the Half-Stag's neck, the transparent, violet shape of his pact began to glow.

"..." The TV Demon's eyes shrank.

"Voxy, what's happening...? Vox?!" Valentino's voice cut through the silence.

...

Meanwhile, all the screens—already on—throughout Pentagram City, and even in Imp City, located in the same ring, continued airing commercials for VoxTek's new products, all made with a special material.

It was hidden everywhere; items were coated with it, embedded in circuits, mixed into ceramics and plastics, even the bristles of house-cleaning brushes. Angelic metal.

It filled store windows and had replaced old railings or trash bins in some parts of the city—not that trash bins got much use in Hell. And the Hellborn kept buying, drawn in by the ads, hypnotized by Vox. They continued filing in and out of stores, getting the latest model of smartphone or those bizarre, sharp new sex toys. They were still doing it, even now, as the broadcast warned that the podcast would air in just a few minutes, so even the last stragglers could tune in.

...

They were still at it, even as Lucifer continued talking to Charlie in that seemingly protective room, where the red light from the infernal sky kept filtering through the windows.

Lucifer hadn't yet faced Lilith; his constant procrastination, his waiting for something external to shake him into action, like when Charlie had pulled him out of the hole his palace had become, hadn't worked this time. Not even Alastor had been enough to snap him out of it. The angel was completely consumed by his emotions, by his passive existence, which would soon lead Hell to ruin. Or worse—bring down all of creation?

"Your mother thinks she can control Roo, but I'm not so sure... Her voice holds power over demons, but it weakens with the Princes, and it's practically nothing to angels..." "...It doesn't even affect you."

Still seated on the bed, hands resting on his bent knees, Lucifer raised his tear-streaked golden eyes to Charlie's incredulous face. She sat beside him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, gently rubbing them, trying to give him warmth and calm.

"...Mom's song has always soothed me," Charlie attempted to correct him.

"Yes... because you understand its purpose and can let yourself go to it, but it only takes a little willpower for it to have no effect on you." He smiled, the memory pulling a tender expression across his face. "In fact, when you were a baby, it never worked. No matter how much she sang, you drove us crazy."

"..." Charlie blinked in surprise, her eyebrows lifting before she returned his smile with a sweet expression of her own. It lasted only a moment before she recovered herself. "But if Mom can't control Roo, what will happen?" she asked, alarm spreading across her face again.

Lucifer shook his blonde head. "I don't know... I don't know if it still has a conscience, if it'll recognize anyone, if it'll live with us, if it'll want to rule in my place, or if..."

"Conscience?"

"..." At that question, Lucifer felt a sharp pang in his chest. "Eve..."

But just as he uttered that name, the television mounted on the ceiling flickered to life with a burst of light, switching on at an unbearably high volume. Both Lucifer and Charlie jumped at the sudden noise, their eyes snapping upward in sync.

"!!" Lucifer's eyes widened in shock.

"Alastor!" Charlie cried out, leaping to her feet, darting past her father to get closer to the TV.

"My dear listeners, did you miss me? Oh, but of course you did!~"

Alastor's sharp, affable voice, perfect for radio, echoed throughout the room and across the entire Pride Ring, the silence broken only by the occasional sounds of cars or the movements of demons. Every communication system synced to the broadcast of the Demon's voice.

And there he was, sprawled across the armchair, his back against one armrest, his feet dangling over the other, gripping the vintage, round-headed microphone in his claw, his face sporting his trademark grin. His very presence, however, caused faint video interference—fizzling waves rippling across the screen.

"As promised, here's the first episode of the podcast. I'll be hosting it solo—I hope you don't mind! Oh, but of course you don't! After all, I've got much more class and style than that outdated walking TV obsessed with keeping up with the times!"

Lucifer jumped to his feet as well, standing beside Charlie, his face tilted upward toward the television. Terror and panic were already creeping into him, reflected in his golden eyes as they watched Alastor's lively gestures. A dark, suffocating realization hit the Seraph the moment he heard:

"...We'll start with the opening! I know you wanted to hear my voice, but j'ai quelque chose de mieux~ ...Lilith!"

At the mention of her name, Lucifer felt an electric jolt shoot down his spine, and from every speaker, a thunderous, painful blast of music erupted, featuring Lilith's powerful voice. The song had no lyrics, only an aggressive, rock-like tone that resonated with her vocal cords.

Charlie felt a piercing ring pressing into her head. She immediately clapped her hands over her ears, groaning in pain as her vision blurred and everything turned red. "Ahh, what...?"

She growled, bending forward rigidly, her body trembling as her hair and eyes began to ignite in an instinctual transformation. Lucifer, though not transforming himself, stumbled back until he collided with the bed, letting out a low groan. The song was everywhere, reverberating through every single communication device, from small electronic watches to the massive screens in the central crossroads of Pentagram City. The volume was so loud that the walls shook, the ground rumbled like a war drum, and Charlie's room trembled.

Lucifer lunged toward his daughter, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her with the most desperate expression he'd ever worn. "Wake up! Don't let the song take over, it's your mot—"

But once again, Lucifer's words were violently cut off by a sudden explosion from the floors below the hotel. The ground shook, but even more so when numerous explosions of varying intensities began booming outside, throughout the city.

The shockwave from one blast shattered a window, sending shards flying toward Charlie, but she was promptly shielded by one of the Seraph's wings. The Princess barely had time to process what was happening when even more explosions opened a large crack in the floor.

"What the hell is going on?! Dad, the others! Vaggie and Niffty are downstairs!"

Charlie screamed, panicked, and bolted toward the door as the explosions continued. Sirens wailed in the distance, and dust rising from the ground had darkened the sky, once visible through the windows. Dust, plaster, and chunks of stone fell from the ceiling with each tremor as Lucifer opened a golden portal in front of the room's entrance. In her frantic rush, Charlie tumbled into the portal without even realizing it.

The Princess was spat out right in front of the bar counter, now covered in dust and the red smoke of Cherri Bomb's explosives—yes, she was there too, though her location wasn't immediately clear. Charlie's ears immediately picked up the sharp voice of Vaggie yelling, "Niffty, stop it! What's gotten into you?!"

"Vaggie!" the blonde cried out, pushing her way through the chaos.

Husk lay face-down on the ground. Above him, Niffty, her eye filled with dark substance, had stabbed a brush between the cat demon's shoulder blades. The Half-Cat was bleeding profusely but still thrashing, his large, casino-light-colored wings flapping wildly, his eyes fully blackened. Black, tar-like substance dripped from his mouth as well. Seeing that dark matter made Charlie's chest tighten, her breathing become irregular as a grim realization hit her. The chaos around her seemed to close in: every noise grew louder, every movement more frantic. It was the same substance Adam had oozed when he tried to kill Alastor.

"Charlie!" Vaggie screamed. "It's angelic metal! Niffty's brush is made of angelic metal!" She added with the same panic, grabbing Niffty by the waist in an attempt to pull her away, only to provoke her further. With a sharp growl and her black eye bulging toward her, Niffty raised the bloodied brush and swung it toward Vaggie's face.

"VAGGIE!" Charlie shouted, her blonde hair bursting into flames as her horns curved into place. With crimson eyes, she lunged toward her partner, but a golden rope shot out, wrapping tightly around Niffty's small body. The cockroach-girl found herself bound in multiple loops of the glowing rope, causing her to drop the brush before being dragged toward one of the semi-destroyed columns of Alastor's bar.

Panting and transformed, Charlie reached Vaggie, wrapping her arms around her shoulders while still casting a frightened glance toward Lucifer. "Dad!"

Lucifer, stepping through the portal, moved swiftly along the bar, heading for the entrance. He too had assumed his demonic form, with six white and red wings filling most of the space, brushing against the tables. His blonde hair was twisted with burning, curved horns, and a snake-shaped halo circled his head. A ghostly red eye with a vertical pupil had appeared on his bow tie, matching the glowing red eyes on the inner lining of his vest, as he wasn't wearing his jacket or hat. His tail, ending in a spearhead, whipped through the air as his bright red eyes flashed toward Charlie. "Keep yourselves safe. I'm going to get Alastor!"

He growled, his sharp teeth clenched as he tried to shout over the still-blaring music. He was definitely furious, but more than that—he was terrified. In that form, though, he appeared more dangerous than anything, and Charlie seemed reassured by the sight of him. "Yes!" she exclaimed, nodding firmly.

The angel extended another hand, wrapping Husk up like a mummy with the same golden rope, just as the Half-Cat was aggressively trying to get back up. With a swift motion of his other arm, Lucifer created a transparent barrier that contained one of Cherri Bomb's explosives, binding the Sinner with the same golden ropes.

As Charlie and Vaggie rushed to help the frenzied demons of the hotel, Lucifer headed outside.

...

The moment he stepped outside the hotel, he could see the chaos engulfing the city. From the hilltop where the building stood, he watched as Pentagram City burned. The city was a blazing inferno; flames coiled around buildings like red smoke serpents, and explosions rocked the ground beneath him. Normally chaotic and noisy, the city now resembled an apocalyptic battlefield. Distant screams mixed with the sound of gunfire, and the air was thick with the acrid stench of ash and blood. For a moment, he froze. That familiar sense of panic gripped his muscles, leaving them numb, and his teeth clattered together. With a surge of anger, he dug his claws into his blonde hair, shaking his head—he had to save Alastor. He had to take down that damned TV Demon and... Lilith. His wide, pupil-less red eyes flared. Did he want to kill her? He could feel the desire rising within him. Seriously. What right did he even have to think that? After ten thousand years by her side, just because he had now found hope, joy, love...? He wanted to kill her.

He looked up at the pale sphere of Heaven fixed in the sky and spat fire from his mouth, his expression hardening. Then he leapt into the air. There was no time to waste. Every second lost could mean Alastor's death and the awakening of Roo. Was there really angelic metal in those strange products Vox had been obsessively advertising?

In the silence of the soundproofed room, the TV Demon was watching everything unfold on his screens. He sat frozen, claws poised over the keyboard, shoulders hunched forward, his face locked onto the televisions streaming the chaos. One by one, some of the projections fizzled and went dark as cameras were destroyed. He had seen what happened in the hotel bar, a drone tracked Lucifer's flight over the city, and the others—those that still functioned—showed flames, blood, and demons tearing each other apart. Every demon in the city, from Imps to Succubi, even lesser demons, and of course the Sinners, were brutally slaughtering each other with whatever they could find. They all oozed a black substance from their eyes and mouths, falling in droves—gutted, burned. He couldn't see into the districts controlled by the other Overlords, and had no idea what was happening in the industrial district ruled by Carmilla. From a distance, he could faintly make out demons devouring each other in Cannibal Town.

Almost by chance, Vox noticed a small screen projecting the image of the massive elevator used to access the other Circles of Hell; the doors slammed shut, crushing a swarm of demons trying to escape, and a red "Alert" signal began flashing at the top. The Princes had sealed off their Circles to contain the damage caused by the rampaging demons.

His gaze shifted to the TV studio: Alastor was there, sitting motionless in his chair while demons in the room butchered each other savagely. He was hunched forward, his antlers spread wide, his head lowered so that his face was hidden beneath his hair. Voodoo symbols, broken and fractured, swirled around him, trying to reassemble themselves. More than anything, the Crossroads of Kalfu spun behind him, and the Half Stag... he was swelling, larger than usual. Alastor's body trembled, and sickly green seams, pulsating and unnatural, had formed along his shoulders. They stretched his flesh, as though something inside him was writhing, desperate to escape. From the cracks, only darkness seeped out, an abyss so deep it seemed alive. As though something was trapped within his body.

"Vox! What the hell is going on out there?!" Valentino's voice boomed so loud it snapped the TV Demon back to reality. The Mothman darted to the console beside him, staring at the screens in disbelief, while Vox flinched as a tremor shook the building, sending Angel Dust and Velvette crashing to the floor with startled yelps.

"Don't even think about leaving this place!" the Shark snarled, drooling, gripping the desk to steady himself as the earthquake subsided. "It's Lilith! That bitch's voice is driving all the demons insane!" ... "They're seriously killing each other because I..." he swallowed hard, feeling himself sink, his gaze drifting back to Alastor on the screen, "...I filled every single item with angelic metal..." he whispered, stunned by the realization.

On that same screen, Lucifer's panting figure appeared at the entrance of the TV studios...

Meanwhile, in Heaven, Emily and Sera, safely protected in their golden fortress, stared in horror at everything happening in Hell through a large, glowing magic orb.