- zaltynn -

my other interests include:

- GAMES:

BLOODBORNE

MINECRAFT

UNDERTALE (NOT deltarune.)

RED DEAD REDEMPTION 2 / ONLINE

FNAF

GENSHIN IMPACT

- SHOWS:

ANIMATION VS ANIMATOR / MINECRAFT

MY HERO ACADEMIA

OVERLORD

BLEACH

ARCANE

- TOYS:

MONSTER HIGH

DNI:

- AI bros

- pedos/creeps/nazis

---

Hell celebrated The Radio Demon's death. For three days straight there were countless bonfires out in the streets, sinners and hellborn all out burning radios throughout The Pentagram. No one feared the consequences of doing so anymore, and even VoxTek brand radios had been tossed into the piles because the brand had never mattered to Alastor's control.

The airwaves were at long last freed of his collection of screams, and forums all across the internet discussed how the victims could finally rest. Many theorized that the victims' souls were still alive in the radio frequencies and that's why Alastor could leave them to scream endlessly on his stations.

Vox only lamented that Alastor wasn't awake to witness his fall from grace.

Meanwhile, the Hazbin Hotel descended into chaos.

Charlie was an emotional wreck, unable to go an afternoon without crying over Sir Pentious, Dazzle, or Alastor. Vaggie was stressed and overworked, having taken over the hotel's duties. She'd taken charge of Charlie's counseling duties, Alastor's managerial tasks around the building, all while holding to her own security efforts. It was too much for one person to handle, but Vaggie was left with little choice.  

Angel was only seen once every twenty hours, and was always drunk or high when he was. Valentino's been calling on him relentlessly, and none of them had the power to protest, bound by contract as Angel was.

Lucifer hadn't been seen since the broadcast, off in his own world most likely. Everyone having learned since he moved in that the fallen angel had no concept of time, and were used to his absence. The likelihood that he remembered that he lived with other people aside from Charlie was low.

Husk and Niffty stood for the status quo of before the broadcast, or even before the battle. Husk was always reliably behind his bar, refusing to offer additional help, and also refused to talk about Alastor or what his agreement with him was that kept him here. Niffty, despite her initial breakdown, had also begun to act like nothing had changed.

Vaggie had asked if they were both going to stay onboard despite Alastor's death, since that meant that they were both no longer contractually obligated to remain.

Husk had said he'd gotten too used to it here and that he'd remain for 'a while longer,' though Vaggie knew he was spouting shit to keep up the 'my heart died a long time ago' persona of his. Niffty then said she was happy working here, and that here is where she'd stay until Alastor needed her again.

Vaggie tried to gently remind the little maid that Alastor was gone, but she refused to listen and Vaggie had other things to do with her time than convince her what was and wasn't true. The more time passed, she figured, the more reality would sink in for Niffty.

Rosie continued to be a welcome presence at the hotel. With her and Vaggie's combined efforts, Charlie was kept to a reasonable schedule so as to not crash and burn in her grief.

It wasn't unreasonable to find Rosie doling out advice and comfort to the residents and staff around the hotel, so Vaggie didn’t question it when she passed Rosie sitting at the bar with Husk one evening.

"-And you've gotten no commands since?" she was asking him.

"No, dead silence, I told you," Husk growled, clearly finished with the topic.

Vaggie stalled her steps, forgetting what she'd been doing in favour of listening. It clearly wasn't on the topic of mourning, as it was common knowledge that Husk was one of Alastor's many unwilling thralls.

She almost expected him to be celebrating his contractor's death, but he'd been tight-lipped. Either he really didn't care about others like he boasted, or he knew something that Vaggie didn't.

Unfortunately unfamiliar with the nuances of demon deals, other than that they were bad fucking news; Vaggie wondered what happened to a contract when one of the participants died. There was death every day down here in hell, so there must be some sort of rule or clause that was inherent to every deal.

She almost wondered if she would be upheld to the same rule, but remembered her 'deal' with Alastor was more of an agreement than a formal deal. She was smart to deny him that time, and any time after when he had tried again.

Perhaps Vaggie could ask Charlie about her deal with Alastor. Being the princess of hell might have some insight to the situation, but maybe it was too soon to talk to her about him. She would be too sensitive for the subject to go over well.

"That's a real shame," Rosie was saying. She traced a finger around a delicate glass of something she was drinking, "I was just thinking how odd it was that it didn't break until the broadcast. If he'd died right after the battle…"

Husk shrugged, "Maybe he really was hidin' out those seven days. Wouldn't put it past him. Wouldn't put it past Vox to lurk around 'till he popped back up again either. Either way, it doesn’t matter."

Rosie hummed, getting to her feet. She sorted her skirt, a mostly black piece that she'd taken to wearing in honour of her fallen people. "'Suppose it doesn't. I don't think Vox would take kindly to me marching up there for answers anyway."

Husk smirked, "I'd pay to see that."

"Don't tempt me, now, Husker," she wagged her finger at him, turning to leave despite her unfinished drink.

Vaggie moved on before she was caught eavesdropping.

---

Valentino disliked feeling like a scorned lover, but he couldn't deny that that was what he felt like.

After the conclusion of the Hazbin Hotel v Heaven debacle, The Vees were supposed to step into the power imbalance that hell would face. He understood Vox's desire for more popularity, for more revenue, for more control; Valentino himself enjoyed the high fame could give that rivaled a hit from any of his vices.

What he couldn't grasp was why Vox kept that damn deer alive.

After years of hearing complaint after complaint from Vox, Valentino had thought he had a good grasp on how he'd felt about Alastor. Rivals with a touch of sexual tension always made for a good script.

He'd genuinely believed himself when he called Vox out months ago with his statement that 'killing Alastor is your kink.' So why, in the seven rings of hell, did Vox not take the opportunity when he had it?

He had told all of the Pride Ring that he'd done so, boasting along with the celebrations that the sinners had thrown. He rotated as much of the Extermination footage as he could across most of his channels, and posted the images of his fight against Alastor all over his social medias.

The difference between the showboating actor and the downright lovesick man hovering over Alastor was difficult for Valentino to wrap his head around. Which one was the real Vox? The confident villain or the doting spouse?

Valentino watched with disgust as Vox caressed Alastor's face again. He turned his back to the sight at the end of the hall, crossing his arms and sinking sullenly into the couch he occupied in Vox's living room.

"I don't get it," he grumbled out loud, unafraid of anyone hearing it. Vox would only listen to Alastor's beating heart and rasping breaths when he was like this.

"You don't need to, Val," Velvette didn't look up from her nails, painting them in a fresh coat of black paint. She was sat cross-legged at the other end of the couch, a movie night freshly stalled because Vox had to go check on the invalid in the other room.

The nurses were sat silently in the corner of the room, facing each other with a sad deck of cards and noise-cancelling headphones perched on their heads. The headphones were a recent addition, all because Vox had noticed them observing a conversation between the three Vees once and his paranoia devoured the fact and twisted it.

Valentino has had the delight of meeting them a few times by now, always bustling around Vox's apartment since Alastor had moved in three weeks ago. Valentino was stopped no less than three times in his attempts to murder them, Vox always defending their usefulness and promising that he'll dispose of them himself when Alastor no longer needed round-the-clock care.

With Vox lately, it was always Alastor this, Alastor that; Valentino was tired of it.

"Yes, I do!" Valentino turned to Velvette, bearing his teeth. "What on earth changed, huh? You thought he wanted to kill him too, right?"

Velvette sighed, capping her polish. "Val, Vox is just feeling complicated feelings again. He'll make his mind up soon, it's just not easy to say goodbye to things that's gone on as long as those two have been dancing around each other."

"I thought Voxxy and I had something special?"

"You do, dipshit, I just said it's all in Vox's head. He's just a sentimental baby; you know how he's kept all his old heads in his office, right? You just gotta…" she rolled her hands around vaguely, "Remind him that you're the better model. Newer is better and all that."

Valentino huffed, not liking being put in the same category as that antique prude. Of course Valentino was the better choice; he actually pleased Vox, and on the regular, thank you very much.

Or at least, he was until three weeks ago.

Vox was too busy nowadays; launching new products, handling a smear campaign against the Hazbin Hotel, checking in on Alastor far too frequently, and trying to garner the favour of other overlords. He seemed to be networking with everyone except his own business partners.

It was a miracle that their movie night had remained scheduled as it was. Vox had only insisted it be in his penthouse this time, failing to convince the other two Vees that it was solely because he had the largest TV of the three of them.

His stewing was interrupted by Vox, who came storming out to the living room, and grabbed one of the nurses with a crushing grip to their arm. He practically threw them in the direction of the spare bedroom, a clear directive to get their ass back in there to tend to the unconscious demon. They were quick to hold their headphones in place so they didn't get knocked off their head and ran off with the other scrambling to follow.

Vox stood in their place almost panting, and Valentino took note of his tense stature and the blaring alarm that came from down the hall.

It was silenced quickly, but the way Vox closed his eyes and stroke at his face was tell enough for how much the hiccup had unsettled him.

"Voxxy," Valentino purred, getting up to go drape himself over his lover, "You're so tense, let me help with that~"

"Ugh, not with me here, Val," Velvette protested.

"Val," Vox huffed, brushing him off his shoulders, "We don't have time for that."

The denial had become typical, to Valentino's dismay. Vox never denied him before Alastor joined them in their tower, even during their busiest months of the year. There was simply nothing else to blame than the injured sinner. Valentino was tempted to go and kill the deer himself, but knew he'd be intercepted by Vox.

Valentino just grimaced, and planted himself back on the couch. He took up two seats, spreading his wings and limbs out, marking his territory. He glared at Vox, daring him to try and sit with him.

Vox sighed, and pulled over a chair from the nearby table. Vox's penthouse was relatively small, an open floor concept letting the kitchen, living room, and dining room blend into one wide open space. He didn't spend much time here, investing his money more into his impressive board rooms, offices, and his command centre.

-And his expensive taste in bioengineered shark aquariums.

There were reasons Valentino preferred his own penthouse, size and bland décor aside.

"Let's just get this over with," Vox sat, grumbling.

"You're acting like this is torture, Vee," Velvette said.

Vox threw his hands with a scoff, "I just got better things to be doing, okay?" He glanced down the hall, completely unsubtle at all.

"Mhmm, like sniffing a certain red-head's shampoo?"

"No! I don’t- there's no sniffing involved!"

"Uh-huh."

"Val, you hearing this shit?"

Valentino huffed, crossing a set of his arms, "I'm not talking to you right now." He turned his head away, face to face with Velvette now. Her make-up was stunning tonight, sparkling with glitter.

"What? C'mon-"

"Hey, Vee," Velvette leaned forward, glancing around Valentino to Vox, "Maybe you should hurry up and finish your pity parade for the Radio Demon? Just put him out of his misery, already. The trend's over."

A spark of appreciation sat in Valentino's chest. Velvette could always be counted on to get to the root of things. 

"I'm not-" Vox paused, searching for words. "I'm not pitying him- and its not- I can't just throw away this opportunity."

"What opportunity is that, exactly? We both thought you wanted to kill the man, and now he's holed up in your house, where you've done nothing but babysit the guy for three weeks!"

Vox struggled to communicate, again, sparking being the only sound in the room for a heavy moment. "You don’t understand, Vel, I finally beat him. This- this is… I've been waiting for this for seventy years. A chance to prove that I'm… not…"

"Vee, you've got an entire empire and millions of souls under contract. Why are you still letting this guy's words get to you?"

The air was tense, and Valentino sought to smooth it over with a cigarette. The moment he turned to urge Vox into lighting it for him though, he was met with an unimpressed glare.

"You're not smoking in here, Val," Vox warned.

"Why not? I think we all need to relax a bit, have some fun~"

"Alastor is literally on oxygen in the other room; I'm not letting you smoke in here."

The final straw snapped. Valentino sneered, jumping to his feet to loom over him. "Fine," he chewed angrily on his cigarette stick, pulling his wings around himself as a coat. He marched over to the front door, giving a snippy, "See if I ever come here again."

"Wait, Val-!"

He slammed the door hard, hoping he broke something in the process.

I don't hate it, but I also don't love it. And i'm not disappointed, but i'm also not NOT disappointed

ya get me?

I can be upset that jax abstracted, because jax is my favorite, and I feel like we were moving towards him and pomni making progress for him and his trauma with opening up to other people, i can understand why they made him abstract anyway, because we were leading up to it. It's been hinted at for like half of the episodes that are out. im not mad at that.

but I just feel like they're not doing justice to pomnis character by having her NOT reach out to him again at this point when all other times before she made the extra effort to reach out to him even though he's been so awful to her

and I also have to say that I am super super glad that jax is just okay with being a little feminine and not actually trans because i don't agree with that headcanon at all, nothing against trans people, just trans jax is not my cup of tea and i would much prefer seeing feminine men becoming more well represented in media without them turning out to be trans or gay

Because again, they just have her reach out to him when he has abstracted, and she got to enter his mindscape, which by the way, was absolutely the best sequence of the entire episode. I loved the old style cartoon the most.

Also, I'm really confused on how caine is still alive? Because they explicitly were talking about how he was deleted. So why is he alive? did they just delete a portion of him?? did the writing require him just because they needed to use him to get the others to realize that they were all digital reconstructions of humans and not actual humans being isekaid into the circus??? but kinger knew the same information???? right??? i just don't understand

and correct me if im wrong, but I don't think caine ever actually said "I'm sorry" or "I apologize", so i'm not happy with that :/ idk ai doesnt understand human emotions so i guess he doesn't need to say sorry cuz he's not going to be sorry because he doesn't have the capacity to feel sorry

don't get me wrong, Caine's little hacking section of the episode was REALLY cool, really good representation of just how SMART this ai is, but still, i was just lost on how he survived kinger DELETING HIM

idk

I'm glad they stayed in the circus

i didn't much care to learn who they were outside the circus, cuz i like them as them IN the circus but good on them. black queenie for the win I'm so happy for that

Also I was kind of hoping that with the realization that Caine was still alive, that they would be able to like fix the abstracted folks, because they're just a representation of their human counterparts, just in the circus. If caine can just get a hold of the mind files at any time, couldn't he just fix the mind files and prevent the abstracting or reverse it? And especially since pomni had gotten into jax's mindscape while he was abstracted; she didn't stop him mid abstract, that was like after he had fully transformed- So it's like his mind should be gone already, right? And that gave me a lot of hope for him to be persuaded out of abstracting; to be saved, because he even said at the ending of the sequence, he didn't want to go, he didn't want to abstract. So I just it feels like a sour turn of events

anyway

---

Charlie dropped down onto the couch with a big sigh, lounging back with a happy smile on her face. The others all took their own seats around the room, grumbling and muttering 'finally!' and 'thank god that's done!' They'd only just finished renovating the hotel- rather, completely rebuilding it. Most of the hard work could be claimed by her father, magically conjuring most of the building's bones and furniture into existence whenever he could, but the rest of them had all pulled their weight to help, even Cherri Bomb, who wasn't even a resident.

Charlie quickly sprung back to her feet, her gratitude giving her another burst of energy. "I just wanted to thank you all, for everything," she told the room at large. "None of this could have been possible without any of you: the rebuilding or coming out victorious against the exorcists." She caught the eye of each of them, hoping her sincerity hit the mark. Her dad, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, and Cherri all had varying positive and reassuring expressions.

Her heart sank at the evident empty seats of their gathering; Sir Pentious, who they lost mid-battle; and Alastor, who's gone missing and none have heard from since. Charlie hoped beyond hope he was alive, hiding out somewhere safe, but with each passing day that hope died a little more.

It's been just a week since the Extermination was repelled, and Alastor's absence has been a stark brand on her soul. Vaggie and most of the others seemed relieved by his absence, taking it on like it was typical behaviour of his and saying he would pop up again like daisies in the spring after a long winter. They assumed he'd be unruffled, and thus, his return was inevitable.

Charlie agreed that Alastor had a tendency to go off on his own, preferring not to participate in any of the hotel's redemption activities. She also understood that he had duties of his own to attend to, even though she wasn't privy to any of them. Alastor was a private individual, preferring to come off difficult or downright suspicious. He was only ever gone for a full day at most though, and at least let someone know that he was leaving, so the absence of the notice beforehand bothered her.

Surely after six months of working together, she deserved to be told to her face that he was abandoning the project? She doesn’t know which she'd hate more, the guilt of knowing he'd been killed for her or the cruel truth that he left them when they needed him most.

Just as she was trying to continue her thoughts out loud this time, the television turned on without anyone's say so. The screen displayed the VoxTek logo and a banner announcing an emergency broadcast starting soon.

Angel flung his head back with a groan, "Ugh, what now?"

The announcement screen was quick to be replaced with a scene of Vox, the Media Overlord, sitting proudly at a reporting desk. In his claws were a stack of papers, most likely a thrown-together report of whatever he had to say.

"Good evening, Pentagram City!" Vox had a perfect smile displayed across the TV he had for a head, dressed as formally as ever. "As you all might know, the princess and her associates were recently involved in a battle against heaven. They foolishly fought the exorcists off, making it the shortest Extermination to date! Deaths were at an all-time low, reserved mostly to the Cannibal Army that Overlord Rosie had donated to the cause-"

"Where the fuck did he get that information?" Vaggie asked, talking over the program. She was quickly shushed.

"- got to ask; why would she help the princess in the first place? I think we can all agree that the shortened Extermination schedule is probably the princess' fault somehow. We know that six months ago, Charlotte Morningstar was spotted entering the Heaven Embassy and leaving shortly thereafter."

A clip of a bird's-eye-view of the embassy was shown in the corner of the screen, hovering over Vox's shoulder. He gestured to it as if he could see it himself, and the footage rolled where Charlie was shown dancing into the building.

"How the fuck did he get that footage?" Vaggie jumped to her feet, her fists clenched in anger. "How long has he been watching you?" she turned to demand Charlie.

She was just as shocked to see herself on screen, grabbing at Vaggie's arm. It was meant to try and calm her from acting before thinking, but maybe it was equally her reaching out for support. The idea that they'd all been under surveillance for the last six months was staggering. "There's- there's gotta be a good reason for this-" she tried to reason.

Lucifer was on his feet next, horns appearing and fire flaring from his mouth, "No, Varley's right. Who the fuck is this guy and why has he been stalking my daughter?!"

"Wait, dad-" Charlie grabbed his sleeve too, torn between two defensive family members.

Vox continued, uninterrupted because he was on the other side of the city, "-our princess is known to get her nose in business that's not hers to get in-"

With his smile exchanged for a smirk, the footage turned into a slideshow of Charlie's attempted intervention at Valentino's studio months ago. The event had caused a fire, and Charlie's distressed face was the centerpiece of multiple photos.

"-which usually has catastrophic outcomes! Really, what else could we expect from her than death and destruction?"

Charlie slumped into her seat, attempting to shrink into it with the still lingering guilt of her past mistakes.

Vox let the silence sit for only a moment, "But far more interesting, we here at 666 News have exclusive footage from the Extermination for all of those losers who didn't brave stepping out to see the event take place! Turns out, an angel can be killed with their very own angelic weaponry, and we have Carmilla Carmine to thank for that. The Overlord of Arms Dealing had also deemed to collaborate with the princess, providing Miss Morningstar and Rosie's army with weapons during the attack."

More footage rolled with Vaggie silently shouting at the Carmine gates, and then flicking to when she left with boxes of stock being escorted behind her.

"We here at VoxTek, using our very own voyeurscopes: available for purchase at a VoxTek location near you," an ad appeared, a picture of a flying drone with a camera attached to it, "-are here to give you the reality check that you deserve! Trust us with your news!" Vox gestured to the camera, then brought his open palm into his chest in what was probably meant to be a gesture of sincerity, one of his eyes swirling as he did so.

In the next moment, Vox and his desk was replaced by a gruesome battlefield. It was the hotel grounds the day of the Extermination.

Charlie had to resist covering her face with her hands, "I don’t want to see this again…"

She watched, along with everyone else, as the horrible event happened all over again. The cannibal army and her friends were all fiercely locked in battle with the exorcists, striking gold blood covering the fighters and fields around the hotel.

The first clip included Husk and Angel fighting back to back, an angel dropping in front of the lens and splattering it with blood. The video quickly switched, following a small blurry form skittering around the bloodshed, stabbing fallen angels. Niffty was visibly ecstatic, cackling as she used the angelic knife repeatedly.

It only briefly glanced to Charlie and Vaggie, clearly discussing something mid-battle, before the camera slid away towards the hotel itself. The footage zoomed in on the roof, unfocused for a second before the distant glitching influence of Alastor's magic interfered with the video quality. Adam, the general of the exorcist army was visible for a moment, shaking off small shadow minions before he flew forward and the two distant combatants were hidden behind the 'Hazbin Hotel' sign.

The next handful of clips were rapid-fire, a compilation of angels dying. It showcased every swing of a weapon, every downing of a winged foe, and every bite of sharp teeth through fine armour. It was gruesome, a fact that Charlie had been denying for days.

The video painted it all so horribly. It wasn’t a last ditch effort to save her people, it was a massacre.

By the time Sir Pentious' airship was shown on screen, Charlie was breaking down into tears.

The scene changed completely next, a blinding outside perspective of the hotel being torn in two by a bright beam of angelic power. The feed shook, and the figures caught in the shot were fumbling, balance lost by the sheer force of the power. Charlie was forced to watch her hotel, her project, and her second home, start to crumble a second time.

Vaggie's arms snuck around her in a comforting hug, whispered apologies doing nothing to help her broken heart.

Past her sobs, Charlie could hear the angry whisperings of her family, asking what could be done and if they had a way to stop the broadcast.

"Alastor would know, but he ain't here," Husk said.

"Who needs that loudmouth?" Lucifer argued, "He's the one who decided to run off."

"Charlie-" Vaggie's voice was measured in a way she didn’t often use. There was an underlying tone of horror in it, which made her look up at the TV apprehensively.

It wasn't displaying the battle she knew anymore. On screen was a view inside a broken room, dark and small. The video was sharp, clear with a better camera than those of the voyeurscopes. The only light in there coming off slightly blue from the perspective of the camera. It illuminated shattered glass, intact in their panes but impossible to see through. The whole room was disheveled, like a robber had gone through it mercilessly, a desk and books and records all thrown around and damaged.

In the centre of view was Alastor, glitching the feed occasionally. He was hunched over and panting, pointing a wild look towards the camera. Blood dripped from him freely, all down his torso until it pooled on the floor beneath him.

"Oh, god…" Charlie covered her mouth in horror. Alastor had been hurt during the battle, and none of them went to look for him.

"And here we have my favourite part-" Vox's voice spoke through the speakers, vicious and obviously pleased.

The video continued silently. Alastor's mouth moved, his ears flicking back in displeasure as he snarled at the camera, rather, at the person behind it.

Cyan clawed hands flashed from off screen, revealing the video as a direct POV from Vox himself. More words seemed to be exchanged between the two overlords, before shadow started to creep up Alastor's form and Vox charged forward.

A fight had broken out, but the video clipped rapidly through a slideshow of stills instead, a grand majority of them indecipherable due to distortion. The room is explored in flashes and glimpses, and Charlie assumed it was the old hotel's radio tower. It seemed like Alastor was only trying to get away from Vox, rather than fight him head on, his posture sunken and his usual attacks nowhere to be seen. Vox had clearly had the upper-hand the whole time.

Meanwhile, Vox spoke over the reel, "I encountered Alastor after the angels retreated, injured and trying to run away like the coward he is. Now, as you can see, capturing The Radio Demon on film has always been a bit of a hassle, so I tried to pick out the clearest stills I could from the whole thing. It's a shame, really; he looked so good under my claws, broken and bleeding."

The footage stopped on a final still, a picture of Alastor limp on the floor. Vox's hand was in frame, lifting Alastor's head by an ear. It revealed naught but a broken, bleeding nose and a smile so strained it was hardly there. He was so drenched in blood; it was hard to tell where he wasn't injured.

What was most horrifying was that it was a clear image, not a single pixel out of place. The first of its kind, as far as Charlie was aware of. Alastor hated being caught on film or camera; his powers a natural deterrent leaving every attempt glitched-out or completely corrupted.

If Alastor was unconscious, maybe the effect was inactive; Charlie tried to bargain with herself.

"And here we have it, Pentagram City," Vox was back on screen, appearing overtop of the image like he'd hung it on the wall behind him. "One Radio Demon, defeated by me," he closed his eyes in clear pride, letting his papers drop to the desk as he held his arms out as if to bask in glory.

The silence was deafening.

"I did it!" Vox stood, slamming his hands down on the desk with a crazed look on his face, "I killed Alastor!"

Something shattered. It was probably Charlie's heart.

"This was a long time coming, folks! Hell knows I'll be celebrating it all week! No, all month! You all doubted me, but I did it! I'm the strongest sinner in all of hell!" he leaned back, cackling uncontrollably.

Angel's phone started pinging rapidly with notifications.

Vox's laughter was slow to peter off. He wiped at his eye, as though a tear had fallen, and took a deep breath. "Now, to all the old fogeys who liked his show, don't you worry, VoxTek now has full access to all radio frequencies!" Another ad appeared, of a sleek VoxTek radio this time, "VoxWave is coming soon to a radio near you, trust us with your entertainment!" he repeated the same posturing as earlier, but this time didn't continue. It was a clear end to his announcement.

Several things happened at once.

The broadcast ended with the visage of Vox's contented face imprinted on the screen before it flicked back to black, turned off like it had been before.

Niffty started screaming, so incomprehensible it sounded like another language. Maybe it was.

Charlie started bawling uncontrollably, guilt tearing her soul apart.

Most oddly of all, however, is Rosie appearing in a cloud of pale pink smoke, her face frantic and searching. She scanned the room, quickly finding the distressed girls and smothering them both in a fierce hug. Her voice is drowned out by their combined noise, but everyone can recognize the ministrations of a mother consoling her children. A tear of her own slid down her face.

Husk gripped at his neck, a confused look on his face.

"That- that ain't possible, ain't it?" Angel asked to the room at large, his voice disbelieving and small. "Smiles, he- he wouldn't just die, right?"

There was no reply.

---

As the broadcast finished, Vox didn't feel the need to drop his smile like he usually did. Today was a good day, and he felt full to bursting, like when pawns fell into place and plans came to fruition.

Announcing his victory was giving a huge boost to his ratings, and it was still rising rapidly at this very moment. It was almost intoxicating; the way Vox felt so powerful and infinite. Had he not things to be doing and a company to run, he'd find a way to flaunt this newfound power all over The Pentagram and really show the people who their leader was.

While having a successful empire was gratifying on its own, perhaps he could give rampaging like Alastor used to do back in the day a try.

He stood from his command console, stretching with a groan. He'd spent the last two days here, meticulously editing and cutting down hours of Extermination footage for today. It was a bold decision to include the encounter he had with Alastor after the battle had concluded, but it was imperative that the people believed he was dead.

Indeed, Vox had lied today on air.

It wasn't a foreign concept, the different Medias in hell full of fear mongering and manipulation, tactics he himself employed often.

It had been a while since he blatantly lied to the media at large, however. News worked best if there was a grain of truth to it, after all, and he had a brand to protect.

Alastor was a unique opportunity, he reminded himself. It was not every day you got to take out your strongest opponent, even if he had not completed the job. He'd thought about it, but something got in the way of the final blow.

Vox convinced himself it was not sentimentality.

The pros of keeping Alastor alive would far outweigh the cons. Vox could find a use for sparing him; using his power for himself, taking claim of his soul, or convincing him finally to join the Vees: the possibilities were endless!

Alastor was far too weak to fight his way free this time. It wouldn't be the same as 70 years ago, it wouldn't.

So yes, Alastor was alive. Vox had him in his grasp, right here in Vee Tower, with only a handful of sinners aware that the broadcast was just a touch untruthful.

Vox, thoughts stuck on his prize, disappeared into the electric wires of Vee Tower. He dared think the teleportation magic worked faster than normal, surging through power lines and connections until he reappeared in his penthouse at the top of the building. He adjusted his coat as he stopped just outside an open doorway in his apartment, watching the bustling inside with greed.

The spare room of his home had become an infirmary, medical supplies taking up half of the room and two nurses posted on either side of the bed. Seeing him, they quickly ducked their heads and escaped the room without a word. They learned days ago not to cross him, both of their souls soundly in his grasp and death nipping at their heels if they didn't heed his every word.

Once they retreated to the other side of the apartment, not allowed to leave, Vox stepped inside the room. Alastor, his trophy, laid unmoving and unresponsive in the bed hooked up to various lines. He looked deliciously weak like this, fighting off death for the seventh day now.

Vox sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through Alastor's hair. He relished every opportunity he now had to touch the man, who was unable to protest. Alastor, the touch-averse god he looked up to for so long was now below him, and the premise was more tantalizing than the steady rise of power that his new approval ratings was granting him.

He was careful not to jostle anything that was keeping Alastor alive, the ventilator helping ravaged lungs breathe or the IV sedation that kept him from thrashing in agony. Vox's hands trailed down carefully to the other's wounded chest, bandaged thoroughly and stained with blood. The nurses' morning report had told him he was still bleeding sluggishly and that he'd received another blood transfusion a few hours ago, and was due for yet another this evening.

The wound was pesky.

Sinners had little practice with healing angelic wounds, because exorcists struck to kill. How Alastor had gotten away with such a drastic hit and lived was extraordinary, and Vox could tell the nurses were intrigued despite their grumblings of servitude.

In the old broken tower, it had scared Vox, seeing his oldest rival pale and cold on the floor. The fight had drained out of him so swiftly he only just barely stopped himself from calling out Alastor's name gently in concern.

"I'll figure out what to do with you yet," Vox promised, taking Alastor's hand gently in his own. He admired his sharp claws, and how they caught the light. The nurses were doing a good job of cleaning Alastor day-in and day-out, meticulous against the threat of infection. "But in the meantime, you're offering me a once-in-a-lifetime show, old friend, and I don’t intend to miss a moment of it."