Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No one expects a life after death. When a soul has left the body and is decided by the powers above, there is this general concept that is brought to Hell is about eternal damnation through fire and brimstone or Heaven is about the infinite praises of God. Most people don’t expect to do something as mundane as handling office work behind a desk and within the confines of a cubical. While the advertisements constantly reinforced this idea about the holy paradise the more noble souls have earned, it was just like the lives they once had before, with fewer assholes and monsters to deal with.

A young man sat behind his desk as he flipped open a packed folder full of papers. Every page was but a single chapter in a person’s life and it was his job to methodically inspect their greatest deeds and their monstrous acts when they used to walk upon the earth. He swiveled around in his chair to turn on his computer as his mind pondered about what story he would read to fulfill his soul quota. Then the employee for the Department of Purgatory returned to his papers to read.

His eyes fell upon the bio of Adam Polonski, a man who had died in a car crash. The stranger grew up with an abusive father before he joined organized crime in his youth. When he got married, he took the effort to reform himself back into society by whistleblowing his peers and his boss to the authorities. Did a decent job as a family man by trying to keep his sons from following in his footsteps. The reader was brought back to square one when he learned that he was leaving from his son’s birthday party before the mafia caught up with him and deliberately made it like an accident.

The verdict was clear that he earned his paradise despite the early signs. Soon the tired office worker turned towards his computer and typed up his review that highlighted the man’s life in a few short sentences. Then he grabbed the mouse to hover over the confirmation of his welcome into Heaven. Once the system gave him the clearance, he finished his work for the day and returned the information to the manila folder, only to file them away in a cabinet.

When the hireling cleared his workspace, the watch on his left wrist had started to beep and remind him that it was break time. Rising from his chair, he stretched an exhausted body before making his way towards the breakroom. As he walked past his coworkers, the young man stole glances from the saved souls who worked tirelessly under the Department of Purgatory. It was another day on the job for them; however, he still had to get used to this life.

Upon entering the room, five tables were scattered across the white tiles with a set of four plastic chairs. The department was fortunate that upper management could afford a room like this for every floor. Much better was the quality of the food.

He walked over to the refrigerator as he saw a coworker sitting in a chair, adjusting his black tie over his white shirt. The young man reached for a case filled with two sandwiches and a bottle of department-issued alcohol before looking over at the brown-haired man who was watching the television at the corner of the ceiling. The first thing on his mind was to break the silence between himself and another dead man of a similar past. Perhaps the difference between them is that one of them retained their accent from their homeland. “You finished early, I see. Tell me, Tony, how do you manage that?”

“Just the typical convincing others to do my work for me. Something I learned in Vegas,” He answered, “We got fifty people on a single floor. I think they can afford one more soul to review for a favor.”

“You must be proud of your handiwork. Though, I wonder if our boss will react when he takes a look at your laziness.”

Tony chuckled before he looked over his head. “I’m just being creative. Besides, I’m giving him an excuse to send me elsewhere. Being part of the Souls Accounting Department is a hell of itself.”

“It’s not that bad. You just don’t have the mind for this kind of work,” He countered as he took his seat beside him and looked at the television, “So what are you watching?’

“More like what I can I watch? Most of the channels are usually the same. Even Hell’s sex shows have been kinda tame.”

The man revealed the remote in his hand, flipping through the channels in the hopes of discovering a show or a movie that was worthy of watching. Frustrated with the lack of content for the man’s tastes, he dropped the remote on the table in defeat. Then an advertisement began to play, where a demon girl was talking about her hotel that could redeem the souls of sinners. “Is this some kind of elaborate scam where she preys on the poor bastards who get sent there?”

“This? She genuinely believes that her hotel can redeem those souls sent to Hell. That’s what I heard from the department’s PIs deployed Hellside,” His coworker replied as he leaned back in his chair, “I pity her. The poor girl gets all the scrutiny from demons and sinners alike for trying to be a good person.”

“A good demon in Hell? Honestly, I don’t know what to think about that.”

Hours of working in the cubical had made him hungry and just as he opened his food case, a loudspeaker rang out from behind his back before a welcoming voice spoke up. “Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj, I need you in my office. Also, yogurt night will have ice cream for those working the midnight shift. That is all.”

“Well, I suppose my food has to wait,” The Russian stated as he closed his food case and walked back to the refrigerator, “I’ll see you later, Tony.”

Waiting in the elevator was an unsettling affair. Rarely do people get called into the office of management and seldom does it bring good news. So many floors for a single department that processed souls to their destination, but the bureaucracy was necessary to handle them daily. As the doors opened, the Russian was met with an entire hallway full of secretaries handling the administration of the organization he was part of.

There was no need to hesitate and so he stepped forward and made his way to the dark office on the other side. Artyom received glances from the secretaries upon passing by, but it was clear that they have seen too many to come and go to care what happens to him. When he was at the door, the young man took the time to adjust his necktie before knocking on the door. “Sir, you called for me.”

“Come in,” Replied the entity whose voice was so hoarse as if his lungs were torn by some rough paper as he gave a moment to wheeze, “We have much to talk about.”

After he opened the door and entered, darkness encompassed the room and there were few sources of light to see who resided inside. Fortunately for him, his way of life in the past had allowed a moment to adjust his eyes, only to see a figure sitting behind a desk on the opposite end. Still, it was no way to conduct these affairs as he reached for the switches to the right.

“Hey don’t touch-”

The employee’s hands were faster than he could speak. He apparently was opening the blinds to let the sunlight inside the room; however, it revealed a living skeleton in a black suit and tie which was covered by a cloak.

“...the blinds.”

“I wasn’t supposed to do that, right?” He asked the boss, whose skeletal face had shifted to express his disappointment, “Sir?”

The reaper was half his size but he was holding onto a large scythe that rested against his desk. “I was hoping I would maintain this facade where I would scare the shit out of anyone who would walk through that door.”

“My apologies. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” Despite his head being nothing more than a skull, somehow Artyom could feel a smile, “I should have known better than to call upon the man who was christened as the ‘Dark Railtracer’ among his people.”

Soon the Russian walked up to the desk and found the plaque ‘Death’ written at the front. “What did you need to see me for?”

Death stood atop his chair and jumped onto his desk, matching the Russian’s height thanks to his size. “You are not in trouble, but I was considering offering you a transfer. Your file had reached my desk, reading on the history of your life and your career as a Polis Ranger, it seems that your skillsets would be useful outside of the cubical.”

It was strange to hear high praise from the reaper himself but he appreciated the positive goodwill from his end. Yet, the mention of his past drew a sting in his heart, recalling pieces of a time when he was alive. What could Death offer that would be reminding him of the buried emotions?

“What would you think about being a Purgatory Investigator?”

“I don’t know,” Artyom had not been in the department long enough to know about the descriptions of these careers, “This is still new to me.”

He nodded his head, recognizing his lack of experience before turning his back and returning to the large chair. “Very few humans-Pardon me. I mean to say Saved souls have the privilege to move between the afterlife where others cannot. It would be like how you stalkers and Rangers would be able to go between the safe and the radioactive danger zones.”

Somehow a piece of his mind made him pause upon hearing the reference to the past, remembering how he died. A young man and his father-in-law were trekking through the city of Novosibirsk while the radiation slowly stole their lives. All of this in the name of saving the one they loved dearly, whose lungs were collapsing upon themselves. Both men were eager to face the monsters just for a dying girl but it had to be worth it… and it was. Once the medicine was found, Artyom and his father-in-law would die bringing it back. Neither of them would say their farewells to her and he would leave a widow behind.

“Artyom?”

His thoughts returned back to Death’s office as if he forgot that he was there. “Sorry. I blanked out.”

“As I was about to say,” The halfling of a skeleton put his hands behind his back, “Do you want to be an investigator?”

“No,” He answered with a firm tone in his voice. The trauma he experienced when he lived was enough and he didn’t endure the horrors of the apocalypse just to deal with another group of monsters that dwelled in another hellscape, “That life… I’m not that man anymore.”

Death gave himself a slight pause. “I understand. Dismissed.”

It was a surprise that the reaper realized the motivations that drove him to his decision. There was no need to do this; however, the willingness to be considerate about it was enough to respect being which took him. Artyom snapped his feet together and saluted the skeleton for a moment before locking the door on his way out.

Chapter Text

Schools in Hell were not exactly organized and there was no proper administration to handle a dysfunctional mess of an education system. For all of its problems, some persevered through sheer rage and wallpaper. The demonic denizens of this realm were not entirely thrilled about sending children to schools but it was an absolute necessity for them to be an active part of a chaotic society. Plus, it was annoying for parents to have their ill-gotten paychecks be turned into drawing paper.

Imps did take up many roles; however, some of the slack had to be picked up by sinners. Yet, they were not often the best inspiration of an imp since it was rare to find instructors that were not child molesters or abusive adults enjoying the power they wielded over kids. There was a desire to improve this system and Mrs. Mayberry hoped she could be a shining example of this not only to the kids in her classrooms but also to their parents.

A tall and regal lady stood behind her desk and watched as a few select students solved their simple mathematics on the chalkboard. It was a way to inspire the other children to participate while also encouraging the unconcerned to pay attention. After all, it was embarrassing when they did not pay attention in class and ended up trying to work up the problems. The sinner stole a glance at the board to see her students finish solving the problems before they returned to their seats.

Mrs. Mayberry began to inspect their answers and at their accuracy. She turned towards the whole class with a smile on her face. “Good work on the problems, children. Take these examples to heart because they will be on the homework when you go home.”

A small imp girl was sitting in the corner of the room had raised her hand.

“Ritza, what’s the question?”

Adjusting her blue dress she was able to garner a response. “Mrs. Mayberry, why don’t you do things like all the other teachers. They don’t give us homework at all.”

“Well dear,” She began, hoping to formulate a decent response to a being born in Hell. Then she walked back and forth from one side of the room to another,  “Unlike most teachers in this school, I care deeply for your minds as much as possible and try to help you become good individuals when you grow up.”

A boy in the third row of desks on the right side of the room had left his remark. “My pa says that being good people is for Heaven worshipers.”

The sinner realized she had to choose her words carefully next time. They were demons after all with all the expectations placed on their shoulders. “Maybe I was wrong about that? Well, I want you to become better people. How does that sound?”

“How is that supposed to help us?”

“Think of the future, kids,” She answered gracefully as she walked towards the windows on the right side of the room and adjusted the few plants near her workspace, “One day you will have jobs or do something that requires your minds. This is what the homework will do if you study and work hard.”

The room’s peaceful atmosphere changed when the glass behind her was shattered and a bullet zipped past her head. Instinct took over the teacher as she ducked down fell to the floor before gunshots rang out and peppered the ceiling.

Her eyes looked over to the frightened children as she called them to safety. “Duck and cover, everyone!”

Imp children had heard her and began to hide underneath their desks while the shooting continued. She was absolutely angry by what was happening and that intense feeling of rage took over as Mayberry crawled to her desk and look at what her desk entailed. A sawed-off double-barreled shotgun was hanging underneath and as she reached for it with one hand, her other hand rummaged through the drawers for boxes full of shells.

The shooter was still unrelenting with their fire but she intended to equalize the situation for their offense while loading the shells into place. At the same time, the sinner looked back to the imp children in her classroom and decided to maintain a calm demeanor under pressure. It was something they were going to face in the future at some point.

When the lady was finished, she cocked her weapon and rose from behind the wall, looking down from the second floor at the assailant who interrupted her lesson. A sinner had parked his car on the school’s lawn, firing his pistol from the driver’s seat. “You bitch! If you didn’t have to check up on me while I was catching some tail, neither of us would be in Hell.”

Of all the people she had to spend an eternity with, her ex-husband was no longer the one Mayberry wanted to share her life with. Ever since their anniversary and his infidelity, she could not reconcile herself with the man she gave her heart and soul for. What was left was bitterness and hatred as she fired one of her barrels into the hood of his car. “Fuck off, Gerald! Why don’t you look around for that gal of yours?! She’ll reveal that wild side of hers.”

“You sent a bunch of assassins after her!”

“She was a psycho cultist!”

The teacher fired off another barrel, this time, the pellets were inching closer to Gerald’s blue fur and forcing him to drive off school property.

Once the shooting was over, Mayberry walked over to her desk and sat down in her chair. None of the children deserved to see that; however, it happened and there was little she could do about it. Her eyes glanced over to theirs and saw the concern on their expressions but she smiled as a means of assurance. The bell rang and she knew they would be leaving at this moment. Perhaps she could shift some of the burdens off their shoulders after witnessing a glimpse into her life. “I know what I said about homework is important but it’s due next week. Have a fun weekend.”

Hearing this news had lifted their spirits as they grabbed their backpacks and made their way towards the door. They said their farewells and returned a few smiles towards their teacher but it was worth seeing them happy. When she learned that being a sinner did not allow her to have children, this was the closest she’ll ever get to a family. After the last imp had left the classroom, she leaned back in her chair, exhausted from the confrontation with an old lover.

All she wanted to do was cry.

Dark was the night as Artyom drove his department-issued vehicle on the road. He was not alone on this ride as his father-in-law and former superior sat right next to him throughout the journey. They had been looking for a restaurant that was not as busy or closed on a Friday but life seemed to inconvenience them. The young man hoped the night was still young enough for them to spend it together since it had been a year after their deaths.

He remembered what happened to them, brought by train, they had entered Heaven to be judged. The Department of Purgatory had made a firm decision on their fates - one would be sent to Hell and the other in Heaven. Yet, the Russian had no desire to watch the Spartan Commander suffer. For all the sins he bore, a young man was willing to trade his eternal award for damnation. Somehow that act of faith and loyalty had resulted in a contract stipulating that Colonel Miller would have his place in paradise if he would perform the work on his behalf. Unfortunately, they would only meet once a year.

When the car had exited off a highway, the old officer pointed his finger towards a sign in the distance - a breakfast diner. “It’s been a long time since either of us had anything interesting. Want to check it out?”

“Sure,” The young man answered as they navigated through the streets of a small town to get there, “How have things been while you were away?”

“Fine. I finally got to meet with my wife. She was surprised and somewhat disappointed in me; however, she truly missed me.”

It was a heartwarming thought about the two meetings. He remembered how tenuous the relationship was under his ex-wife’s perspective.

“So, how is work at Purgatory?” The Miller asked, turning his head towards the drive, “You haven’t even mentioned a speck of what that work is like.”

What could he say? He was relatively new to the rest of the employees there and the job’s details weren’t impressive. Everything was simply dedicated to the processing of souls to Heaven or Hell. “Interesting to say the least. We’re just processing souls through the afterlife but plenty of reading of people you’ll never meet.”

“Really? I had hoped the department would give you a harsh workload for sins as bad as mine. Maybe you were given such a lucky break that you don’t have to do as much?”

Artyom drove his car into the parking lot and was able to find a spot close enough for the building. They paused their conversation and walked over to the front door.

Upon entering the restaurant, much of the building’s theme was set in a retro-like science-fiction alternate history. The walls were plastered with propaganda posters about how evil the communists were or keeping an eye out for corporate espionage. At the same time, models of robots were hung from the ceiling and strange energy weapons were encased in the wall.

The only person who seemed to be present was a blonde girl in a blue and yellow jumpsuit, waiting behind the counter. She let out a warm smile before reaching under her workplace for two menus. “We didn’t think we would get customers at this hour. How many this evening?”

Colonel Miller raised two fingers before they made the server ask them to follow her to their table. It wasn’t a surprise when the two were the only customers present as they found a booth where both men sat across from each other.

“I must ask, what will both of you drink for today?”

The former soldiers turned their heads and spoke in unison. “Water.”

“Sure, I can get that for you while you two decide on your orders.”

She walked away from the men and left alone enough to bring their thoughts out. The senior man spoke as he looked at his menu. “Pancakes sounds nice. What are you going to get?”

“Corned beef hash,” Artyom answered as he looked another glance at the food, “Then chocolate pancakes.”

“Do even you have the stomach for that?”

He smiled at the widened eyes of his superior. “When you work for long hours on a floor like mine, you need all the energy you can get a read on someone’s soul.”

“Oh, I see,” He understood, “Does this mean that you’re going to be working after this?”

“Yes.”

It was the unfortunate truth and a price the Russian was willing to pay to save his father-in-law. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be long before he would complete the contract he made with the Department of Purgatory.

The woman returned to their table with drinks in her hands and placed them onto the table. After the orders were asked for, she went back to the kitchen with the menus retrieved.

Soon the commander voiced his thoughts about the young man in front of him. “I remember there was a slight mention that you used to have a mother in the Metro and that she was eaten alive by rats. Part of me is curious but have you ever considered meeting with her ever since we died?”

When his mother was brought up, he paused for a moment and did everything he could to repress his emotions from getting out of hand. That possibility had never entered his mind and part of him was ashamed that he forgot about the existence of his mother. However, it was not his fault since the work at the department was always at the forefront of his thoughts. Now that the subject was brought up, The former Polis Ranger could have a chance at seeing his mother again and his status as an employee could look into the database.

“Artyom?”

He looked to the bearded man and relaxed in his seat. “Sorry about that. It’s just that it never occurred to me until now.”

“Well, you could always look for her once this night is over,” Replied the old officer, “Even though we have an eternity to ourselves, you should visit her. I think she would be happy to know about the man in front of me.”

“Is that a compliment, sir?”

The commander crossed his arms. “Consider it a slight encouragement.”

Jim had been driving on the road for twelve hours straight, living on nothing more than coffee and Viper Dew. He had been specially selected to drive a very important shipment towards the armory of the Seraphim Guards. Now he would have gotten there a day earlier if his contract didn’t involve an armored convoy to escort him to his destination. The Alabaman had wondered why the authorities would go through the effort to secure a shipment if it was in Heaven. What threat could they all expect to deal with if there was nobody to attack it? It was tempting to bring this up to the captain of the convoy; however, it wasn’t worth the trouble.

Two armored APCs were ahead of him with the turrets moving and scanning the surrounding area as their vehicle commanders stood out in their hatches, just like dogs poking their heads outside the windows. They began to exit the highway and approach a town along the way to the armory just as they planned back at their ‘keep’ when they brought him there. Then Jim looked to his military radio when he heard the static. “Okay people, we’ll be settling down for tonight before we continue. 2nd and 3rd platoon is going to take first watch.”

Hearing the captain’s voice was a relief. His body was begging him to use the bathroom at this moment. The convoy entered the town in force tonight and the people who were on the sidewalks had expressed their surprise when they saw the soldiers of Heaven passing by. Cars ahead of the party were quick to move aside and make way for this presence of force. Soon the group had entered a parking lot of a motel and settled down by stopping their vehicles around the truck’s immense size.

When Jim shifted his vehicle into park, his eyes looked around for a place to eat. On his right was the motel where he would sleep but he turned his head to the left side of the truck and found a diner across the street. He was sure that they had a restroom and some grub worth trying out. Nothing could go wrong with pancakes. He opened the door and jumped down, greeting the various soldiers who would protect the personnel and their cargo from any would-be eyes before running across the street.

He arrived at the door and opened it up to find a cute girl standing behind a counter. Like a gentleman, he tipped his baseball cap to the server before she asked. “Is it going to be you, sir?”

“Ya’ll have a bathroom?” He asked, “I promise to get some food but I need it now.”

“Sure, I can wait.”

The Alabaman jogged across the room towards the restrooms and as he entered the men’s section, the feeling of freedom was almost at hand when he walked over to a toilet. Suddenly, the ground began to shake and the lights turned off.

Something was wrong and Artyom felt it in the air. He looked across his seat to see Colonel Miller become just as confused as he was. Yet, it was hard to explain as the young man looked at the table and noticed the plates and silverware shake uncontrollably before the diner’s lights were suddenly shut down. Then a roaring shriek flew over them as the two men went out of their way to leave the building.

Across the street was a parking lot with several parked APCs surrounding a large truck. Their personnel was alerted by the noise as the armed soldiers appeared to be more attentive by spreading out and shouting for the civilians to get out of the way. One of the men was wearing a blue beret while his men wore helmets, who managed to notice a Russian and his father-in-law, “You two, go back inside and stay there. It’s not safe out here.”

Baleful blue energies screamed from above and splintered into a circular trajectory. Two men watched in horror as they descended towards the unsuspecting men and exploded violently. The soldiers who were caught within the radius had found themselves in a moment of horror while their bodies slowly disintegrated. It began with their skin turning into dust while the poor souls cried out for help, only to collapse, leaving behind ashes and bones with scorchmarks scattered upon the grass and concrete pavement.

He looked up to see what had caused this whole mess in the first place. A strange red light loomed over the parking lot as the remaining soldiers looked up and fired away. Bullets rang out through the night as APCs drove away from the truck just to have the elevation to raise their barrels. Soon this glowing apparition ceased firing and floated in the air, watching over those who fought back.

Artyom and Miller were quick to run back inside, just as the leader of the group rejoined his men amidst the ambush. Soldiers and vehicles alike fired at their assailants as the Russian looked over his shoulder to see the crimson light plummet to the ground. The shockwave created an impact where it had landed but also created a massive force that shook the entire town.

Once inside the diner, they watched a large emanating figure rise from the crater in a red suit of armor and a pair of wings at its back. In one hand was a mighty broadsword as the other remained free. The soldiers of that convoy had recovered from the impact, only to return fire upon this alien entity. Yet, it did nothing as the vehicles drove back to the scene and increase the volume of fire onto this monster.

The Russian duo was caught off-guard when they heard the female server speak with trembling fear. “What is going on?”

He turned around to find the woman shaken by the even while a bald man in a white apron had stood beside her and helped her around. The crowd increased as the driver from the truck appeared skittish in the darkness. “What’s uh happening?”

“An ambush,” Answered Colonel Miller as he pointed towards the scene, “The question is, who is attacking?”

It disappeared and became a blur that switched between its targets in swift succession. The sword struck down those who still had any hope of resistance, slicing through the men like a hot knife through butter. Oftentimes, a squad would find itself locked in close combat where a man would be tossed aside like a ragdoll. One of these bodies found itself tossed in the direction of the diner, a soldier who was unable to get up on his own. 

Artyom watched the helpless soldier crawl towards the diner while his comrades screamed in absolute terror at the threat they faced. It was unnerving to stand by and watch the slaughter, causing him to clench his fists knowing that it was against every fiber of his soul to do so. Yet, he needed to be smart about this.

His hand reached into his pocket, brandishing a phone before he turned it on and called his boss. The voice was not Death’s but one of his many secretaries. “Excuse me, do you have an appointment with-”

He cut her off with the urgency in his voice. “This is Artyom Alekseyevich Chyornyj, I work under the department. Trace this call right now and get Death’s attention. There’s a military convoy under attack in this town and we need help right now.”

“Hello? Hello?”

The young man placed his phone on the table as he walked over to the door, hoping to rescue the man a few meters away from the diner.

Then he heard his father-in-law speak. “What the hell are you doing?”

“The right thing?” He answered, “I can’t just stand and watch.”

He reached for the doorknob and walked outside. The man on the ground was groaning in pain before Artyom dragged him by his straps, catching by surprise before calming down and swiping the trail of blood on his face.

Off in the distance, the fighting intensified as the APCs drove forward to give one final act of respite. The moment was brave; however, a single suit of armor was more than enough to tear them apart. It charged the closest one and rammed into the driver’s position, smashing the hull through force of will. Another flanked it from the right but the assailant extended its sword towards it and released the same projectile that initiated the ambush. In a blink of an eye, a great explosion erupted and turned the vehicle into a burning wreck. A third managed to ram itself into the attacker’s backside several times but a gauntlet reached out and gripped hard into the armor before the monster raised its sword and sliced it in two.

The last vehicle didn’t even try to fight at that moment. It was as if the crew saw how much the odds were against them as they tried to flee on the road. Unfortunately for them, the perpetrator simply lunged its sword forward and ravaged the vehicle with enough power that it was barreled across the grass. All that was left was the silence that followed in the aftermath of the chaos while Artyom had finally brought the man inside.

Soon the others were quick to see the well-being of the soldier as he looked back to see the remains. Yet, the entity that was responsible for all of this had turned its head towards the diner in an ominous glare. Then it stepped forward and approached the building with each step spelling the doom for the people inside. There was one word that would describe the young Russian’s feelings on the matter, “Fuck. We need to leave, now.”

He closed the door and looked to the others.

“Is there a back door?”

The cook nodded his head. “Yeah, there’s a way out.”

“Then go,” Artyom ordered before stealing a glance at his former commander, “You too, sir. It’s too dangerous-”

They never had a chance. He was knocked out upon the door being kicked open as his head banged against the counter and the unhinged door lay atop of him. The Russian wanted to stay awake and do something - anything - to keep the eternal lives of the innocents from harm but his body lacked the strength to move. For a few minutes, he heard the screams of the others as the world went dark. The last one on his mind was Colonel Miller crying out in pain.

The news reached the council chambers that night and Death had the misfortunate to miss the meeting with his kin about the subject matter. His immense tardiness would not go unnoticed but he was busy trying to get people and eyes on the scene of that attack. The isolated nature of the town meant that more available assets were needed to investigate the scene. A situation like this should not have flown underneath his radar.

Death sat alone in his department’s conference room, where a rectangular table sat in the middle of the room and was surrounded by chairs. It would have been a normal room if it wasn’t for the glowing white stone that hung from the ceiling. Not only was it the room’s only source of light but it also served another purpose. It blinked repeatedly until the Archangel took the moment to initiate the call. “Begin the meeting.”

The rock began to flicker and slowly project light across the room. On the other side was a man wearing a black suit and tie. His black hair was combed while his hands remained in his pockets. Blue eyes were a sharp distinction from the rest of the room as he confronted his coworker in a hard tone. “Where were you? I had expected you to be at the emergency meeting when I called it. Why didn’t you come?”

“Michael I had been busy,” He answered, “My assets are searching the scene as we speak.”

“Really?” The Archangel wondered as he reached for the chair in front of him and clenched his fingers into the fabric, “A truck full of weapons, meant for the Seraphim Guard, has been stolen and I pray you to have something worth telling.”

The reports made plenty of references to the possibility of the methodical planning involved to pull off this kind of attack. “My department found something interesting. Some of the bodies were scorched into bones but that is not all. One of the vehicles was equipped with a recording system and we were able to catch a glimpse of the attacker or perhaps… attackers.”

“There was more than one?”

“One assailant killed all of the convoy escorts; however, others showed up to take the truck. They all were wearing crimson red armor and had wings.”

The Arcangel’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree but it was quite clear he knew something. “No, it cannot be. What are fallen angels doing in Heaven?”

“Aren’t they beholden to the treaty?” Death asked, “Surely, Lucifer wouldn’t resort to something so blatant?”

“Perhaps?” He pondered as a hand grasped his chin, thinking to himself, “Unless he intends to bring the war back on.”

Chapter Text

A young man dreamed but it was not a real one. Rather, Artyom’s mind was focused on a single moment in his afterlife that haunts him in his sleep - the screams of his colonel. Miller helped him when they once lived on the earth and owed much of his thanks to the old soldier. If it was not for his superior, he never would have gotten anywhere. There was that chance that the Russian could have lived longer in the end; however, it was a life he could never enjoy. As he remembered the old man’s cries of pain, blood began to boil every second he slept. Then it was more than enough to escape from that endless nightmare.

Anger.

Rage.

Grief.

Those were the feelings that coursed through his veins when he opened his eyes. The ceiling light shined above while he heard an automated beep match his heartbeat. Part of him wanted to cry at this very moment because now he had to live knowing that Colonel Miller will never spend the rest of his life in the eternity of Heaven. Instead, the former Polis Ranger felt like a child he once was at Exhibition Station in the Moscow Metro. A soul that was forever alone.

His ears heard a familiar voice of a man who had been waiting for his return to this reality. “You’re alive and I’m glad that you're awake.”

Artyom turned his head and realized his coworker was sitting in the dark part of the room. “Tony? I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“So does everyone else,” He replied as he rose from his chair and walked over, “When I heard that you were at the scene of the attack, had to see if you were alright.”

“As much as I appreciate the company, I could use this time to be alone.”

The employee of the department retrieved his seat and sat beside him. “Unfortunately, I can’t leave you be.”

“Why?” Questioned the young man, “What is keeping you here to annoy me while I contemplate the loss of my father-in-law?”

“Death knows how much he’s important to you and the contractual agreement you were willing to fulfill to ensure his Saved status. Our boss is still offering you a chance at becoming an investigator.”

Tony’s words were serious; however, his tone was sincere. The eyes hid the man’s expressions but Artyom could sense genuine care about his well-being.

“If it gives you any solace, you can get the one who killed him.”

The thought of such an opportunity had not crossed his mind. Everything about it felt tempting since it was a means to avenging his commander’s death. It was reminding him so much of his previous life. The afterlife in Heaven was meant to be a new beginning, a clean slate for those who worked tirelessly for the good of others. Yet, even in death, the Department of Purgatory was still judging him for his ability to hunt and take the lives of others. His beating heart wanted to say no while his mind also kept remembering that moment in the diner. “What does it entail?”

“Reconnaissance, infiltration, subterfuge,” He answered while leaning back in his chair as if relieved by the Russian’s willingness to hear him out, “I could go on and on but it involves the stuff of special forces. If you choose to accept this, I’ll point you towards the nearest trail we have in Hell once you get discharged from the hospital. So what will it be? Do you accept or decline the offer?”

“I accept.”

A whisper in the back of his mind had tried to seduce him to reject and be free from his duties. Suddenly, Artyom considered what Colonel Miller would think of him if he refused to help had he been alive. That thought of disappointment had brought the young man to a painful conclusion that no matter how much he wanted to be a good man who desired to live a decent life. There wasn’t a chance for him to live a ceaseless existence behind a cubical for eternity.

Respect was a rare commodity in the realm of Hell and the denizens would freely give it to others as long as they were exceptionally powerful. The nobility and overlords were given such as they could be relied upon for protection against lesser beings. Yet, even they were not given complete deference since there was a limit to their social status. Only one was taken seriously - Lucifer Magne - the ruler of this kingdom and he was watching television like a child catching the cartoons.

His daughter had been advertising herself to the sinners and Hellborn alike, hoping to convince all seven levels to her idea of redeeming one’s self at her hotel. None of this was received well and it gained scrutiny from both the news anchors and the audience who were brought to the showing. Lucifer leaned back in his comfortable chair and raised his legs atop his desk, staring at the television in the corner. Despite the scrutiny, the song she had sung was surprisingly catchy for the monarch to hum to himself, but she also left a lasting impression as a princess of Hell. She may have been rebellious; however, he was glad his child was not a pushover.

Someone knocked on the door to his office as he was taken aback by the sudden moment. He had a public persona to show and was unwilling to let his subjects see him passing the time so lazily. His hand snatched the remote on the desk and turned off the television before bringing his feet down and pulling out a cabinet full of papers just to pretend he was working. After carefully putting the papers in place, he let out a deep breath and sought out the person on the other side. “Who is it?”

“Dear, I was thinking about what we’re going to have for dinner,” Answered a sultry voice who slithered the doorknob open. A tall and fine beauty of the fairer sex had slithered into his room in a dress clad in dark shades of red, “My mind is between Chinese or Italian.”

Lucifer’s heart softened. His wife was the joy of his life and he couldn’t resist leaving his chair and embracing her. “Don’t we usually have something more, Lilith?”

Her height was a sight to behold as she willingly let his arm wrap behind her back. “No, but I am afraid the goats are busy amongst themselves since this is their day off.”

“Perhaps I can make some arrangements for our table?” He suggested, willing to accept, “Italian sounds nice for the two of us. A romantic dinner between you and me.”

“Lucy?”

He looked up with a smile on his face. “Yes, my beloved?”

“I think you need to talk with Charlie,” Her expression was worrisome and saddened as if something about their daughter truly concerned her, “A conversation with her. That is all.”

“I don’t know.”

The ruler of Hell began to let go and sit against the edge of his desk. She had been insistent on this whole dream of hers to try and improve the lives of their eternal suffering. Yet, he knew the truth of the whole matter. Heaven did not care enough of its fallen kin to consider her proposal as an alternative to the yearly exterminations.

“She doesn’t understand that Heaven wouldn’t even care about us. I tried to tell her the impossibility of the whole idea and she just wouldn’t listen. Charlie is too naive to understand this.”

Lilith walked up to him and rested her head against her shoulders. “Perhaps but remember that she is our daughter - the embodiment of our love. If this hotel idea of hers keeps her happy, who are we to deny it?”

Emotions in the room had begun to change when a phone rang in Lucifer’s pocket. He brandished it out and took one good look at the identification. His blood boiled upon seeing Archangel Michael’s name and wondered what he had to say. With a single tap, he waited with bated breath to hear his hated brother. “What do you want, Michael?”

“I saw what happened on the news,” He was unusually soft for a man so commanding, “Your daughter has left quite the impression and entertained those in Heaven for that comedic fight.”

“Is that why you called me? Is it just to gloat at my girl’s expense and laugh at me?”

There was a slight pause before Lucifer recognized his brother’s serious attitude. “No. Unfortunately, this call is something else entirely.”

“Then what is it?” He demanded with the hope his words would have the poison of a viper. His wife stepped away and let the conversation play out, “I haven’t gotten all day.”

“You are my brother and I have known what kind of person you are. If there is one thing I have learned about you in the war, a stupid bumbling idiot is not your character.”

The way this conversation was heading did not comfort him at all.

“There has been an attack in Heaven. I called you for a reason. Did you order it?”

Now, this was news for the fallen angel. “No. We’ve agreed to the peace accord to cease open hostilities. I would never do that. It would jeopardize the safety of my family!”

“Good,” Michael answered, “You just saved the council from their worries… I wish you the best.”

The call ended as the royals didn’t know how to react to what just happened.

Layla did not know why she was in Hell, only that living on the streets was miserable. Her first few months in this strange nightmare were filled with tears. Nobody could be trusted since they were icky, angry - or worse - evil. Who could she turn to? There were no police or responsible adults to seek help from. All she could do was survive with her loneliness, where the others wouldn’t notice or leave enough scraps for her to feed on.

The alleys were her home and few would take notice of her presence behind trash cans but she had to be careful since it would be owned by a gang or someone’s animal. Finding fresh food was rare and she would be lucky if it was recently tossed out. Her parents would disapprove but what could she do? She could have become worse by eating the flesh of the fallen; however, her heart believed that God would be ashamed of her for stooping so low.

A scared little girl busied herself by rummaging through a trash can, hoping her search would be rewarded. She had grown accustomed to the sprawling cities of insects and the smell of methane pressed against her face. It was a price to pay for a fine meal and if they were inside, it would be a good day. Everything changed when something slithered and began to strike towards her.

She jumped back in fright as a snake snapped but missed her head. The better of her senses took over and ran out of the alleyway lest the cold-blooded death noodle recovered. Layla rarely lurked towards the sidewalks since she would be met with disgust from the others but between bravery and safety, the latter had was better.

The young girl slipped her hands into the pockets of her sweater as wanderlust took over her thoughts. There was nothing for her except to die without hope while Hell’s people cared little about her well-being. She remembered how her death occurred, riding her bike from school, only for a car to smash into her. It was painful and her arms still felt the stings of glass embedded in her arms but part of her wanted to go back home and apologize to her parents.

Soon she stumbled upon a corner store full of electronics; however, it had television sets behind the window for passersby to look at. Much more, the screens were active with a channel showing cartoons. It reminded her of the Saturdays where she would spend her mornings watching the television with a bowl of cereal. The girl could use a break and decided to sit on a nearby bench, enjoying the small moment to herself.

Hours were spent in that one spot, hoping the news and the cartoons would be enough to keep starvation in the back of her mind. Times like these made Layla feel horrible how much she was used to this existence that she has almost forgotten how to smile. It was a disturbing thought but one she would have to live with as life moved forward. Suddenly, the televisions were flickered off as the life of electric energy was pulled out of them, only the reflection of the girl’s spider eyes were left.

The store owner stepped out of the building. In comparison to the doorway, was a bloated hippo whose stomach dominated her waistline as she carried a stick in hand. The fat sinner pointed it at her, “You! I don’t want you near my store. You’re driving away my customers. Get off the bench.”

It was hard for her to respond since she was so intimidated by the imposing figure and speech. Struck with fear, the girl forgot how to move.

“Are you deaf? Go, scram!”

Hesitation froze her before the adult stepped forward and raised her stick.

“I’ll give you a reason you little brat.”

A single swipe to her head had resulted in Layla knocked on the cement as blood splattered across the ground. “No, please! I have nowhere to go.”

“Really?” She asked with hatred in her voice, “I suppose there’s no point in being nice.”

When the second strike came down on her, she shielded her face and head from the beating. There was barely any recovery before the store owner brought her full fury on the innocent girl, who was at her mercy. Nobody was here to help her and part of her childhood had expected it would end this way. The cheeks were now covered in tears while she took every opportunity to make a prayer to God in her final moments. She awaited death’s sweet embrace as her vision grew dark.

Off in the distance was a vehicle roaring through the streets as it rapidly grew closer. Its approach was distinct as if the driver was heading somewhere fast. Rubber screeched against the pavement while the engine’s cries were a few meters away from her. The doors clicked open and suddenly the beatings stopped before voices shouted at each other.

Layla could hear the woman shout at them. “Do you know who I am? I own this store and this is Vox’s territory. You lay a finger on me or that girl, he will fuck you up!”

“Idi na hui. I could care less about who protects you or not,” She couldn’t make out the language; however, the innocent girl knew the person was foreign, “Comrades, help the girl out.”

“You don’t touch her. Go on your merry way and leave us!”

The woman’s seemed to antagonize the unknown standing over her. “Goddamn karens. Pacify her but smoke the building.”

Something reached out to the owner before the electric shock was applied for a few minutes. A body slumped to the ground as a hand reached out to the child. There was a sense of gentleness and care she only felt before she died. Were they trying to help her? No words could be spoken; however, the strangers who rescued Layla had returned to their car. A minute passed before the air popped and a great explosion erupted before the van drove off.

“It’s okay. Someone sent us to help, you’re safe and we’re going to bring you to a better place,” Her head turned towards the man, whose face was hidden away by a black mask with glass eyes. It truly was not his face but she could sense it was behind it as he turned around to the others, “Relay word back to station that the VIP has been rescued. We’re coming back to the safehouse but get the Isra spinning, she needs immediate medical attention.”

It took time to recover from the wounds; however, they were not the only problem that the former Polis Ranger had to contend with. Waiting in the observation room until Artyom was discharged from the hospital was time-consuming and boring. He and the other patients had to spend their hours, looking at the ceiling and each other in complete silence. Part of him hoped the nurses would have taken the effort to improve their morale or simply help everyone pass the time but it certainly was not going to happen.

The door swung open as flying babies and animals floated across the room with ethereal singing. Their voices seemed to harmonize the soul on his bed as they began to pair with each person. One of these creatures, a baby boy with wings on his back, had introduced himself to everyone in the room. His sweet and soft voice was a surprise after the man’s experience with the harsh life he hailed from. “Hello everybody! My name is Cletus and we cherubs are here to cheer everyone up. Each of us will get to know one of you and we’ll do everything we can to spice things up.”

The Russian paid attention to the cherub flying by his bed, a blue-skinned sheep who was eager to brighten his day. He wasn’t going to lie, this might not be something he was looking forward to. “My name is Artyom, what’s your name?”

“Oh,” The cherub was taken by surprise, “I was supposed to be asking that question but we can start there I’m Collin. What brings you to the hospital?”

“Workplace accident.”

It was a lie but was his safe lie. The Department of Purgatory preferred having its employees keep their work to their chests. He also had the misfortune to be in the hospital due to the convoy ambush, a subject he was not going to slip out.

“It’s nothing but a few scratches on my back,” Came his answer as he smiled towards him, “Not long before I get back out there with my coworkers.”

His guest adjusted the gold halo that was looming over his head. “Well, that is wonderful to hear. People aren’t so usually keen on getting out of the hospital. Give me a minute, I need to see what kind of saved I’m talking to.”

A puff of smoke floated above Collin’s hands before a manila folder appeared as he opened it, reading the few papers inside. Several minutes of silence passed before the cherub’s expression began to shift.

“You are a redeemed?” That particular status of the soul managed to surprise him, “What did you do that was so heinous to Heaven?”

When the human-like sheep had given another look at his past, the warm atmosphere began to change as his expression shifted from a welcoming visitor into that of a horrified reader. Yet, the silent reaction drew concern from the man in his bed. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Y-You killed angels.”

“Yes, I did,” He answered as his mind recalled that moment when he stood at the top of Ostankino Tower with a Dark One riddled with bullets and lying at his feet. All while he watched the rest of its kin get murdered by tactical missiles. The Polis Ranger looked down on his bedsheets and felt the shame his body carried when he was alive. “Never had I had so much regret for the greatest sin committed at my hands. It’s hard to believe that was also me.”

Collin returned the background information into the void as he floated beside the man. That revelation made him tremble as if he had discovered a new low for humanity and its darkest side. His shock was apparent as he found the strength to speak. “How did you get into heaven?”

“The very creatures I feared had a child that survived. My redemption began by protecting him, long enough for other angels to not only save me but also my people. I would have been in Hell a year earlier had I not done so.”

“I have heard the stories of redeemed souls but have never met one in person,” From the way of his tone, there was a hint of awe within his voice, “Your kind are incredibly rare to find.”

Artyom leaned back against the bed. “There is a strength to acknowledge the severity of your sins and reflect upon them. It’s not something everyone is capable of.”

“If you want, we could talk about something else?”

“No, it’s fine,” He answered, “A conversation like this helps remind me of who I am. Thank you.”

The cherub was less frightened and more joyful as if he did something productive a moment ago. “Your welcome. It’s just that this is the first time I’ve ever conversed with a saved before. Cletus is the one that does all the talking while I stay busy at C.H.E.R.U.B. headquarters.”

“What’s do you do for them?”

“We help the souls on Earth by giving them their blessings so they can be here in heaven,” Collin answered with great interest on the subject, “It’s our way of guiding people to do the right thing for humanity and the rest of the world.”

That last sentence sparked a feeling in the Russian’s heart as if it was related to his time in the Spartan Order and its Polis Rangers. The genuine care in performing one’s duty was relatable to the man in the bed. “Whatever you’re doing, keep going. People care about the little moments in life such as this conversation. It can sometimes be the difference between succumbing to darkness or recognizing the light.”

Those words managed to kill any remains of terror within his heart. His facial expressions were now inspired by such a compliment to his profession as the cherub smiled with confidence.

A floating suit of bones had floated back into his office after visiting the department’s built-in coffee house. Death was going to need the coffee and the donuts to help him deal with his never-ending surveillance of Hell and its denizens as he placed a small paper bag and his cup on the desk. He just needed some isolation to think about his situation as he made his way over to the windows.

His gaze sought out the landscape below as he remembered the time when Heaven was at war. Outside that glass, the reaper could still feel the echoes of the battlefield. Two armies confronted each other with Michael leading Heaven’s forces and Lucifer at the head of his rebellion. Angels slaughtered each other in the bloodshed as former grievances and grudges were transformed into murders between friends and family. He would never be the same after that engagement when his blade had slain many of those who were once kinsmen. Few Archangels would leave that field alive.

When Lucifer had been defeated, Michael could have killed him right then and there. Yet, a simple act of mercy stayed his hand as their fallen brethren were forced to watch their leader sign an accord with the rest of the realm. The rebels would be barred from Heaven for their treason, and as an insult to their power in Hell, exterminators would be deployed for a yearly purge to deny Lucifer an opportunity to mobilize the sinners to his cause. That meeting between bitter enemies was still fresh in Death’s mind after all of those years. Would that accord be broken so another war could destroy the peace that was so hard-fought?

Someone knocked on his door as he turned around to grab his meal. “Come in.”

Tony arrived as he adjusted his tie. “Sir, Artyom accepted your offer to become an investigator.”

“Very good,” He would need the Russian’s desire for vengeance to motivate him to track down the killer of his father-in-law, “Discharge him from the hospital immediately and prep him Hellside.”

“I also have something worth looking into.”

“Such as?”

“Well, this might recall some old news” He began as he swiped the sweat from his brow, “Do you remember that group of imps that advertised their business being about murdering sinners on Earth at the request of sinners in Hell?”

Death paused for a moment as he brought his cup towards his jaw and gasped a small amount of coffee into his system. Then his mind clicked into action as he recalled their first showing on the news channel in Hell. “Yes.”

“One of our listening posts, after countless hours of hearing bird sex, was able to have several transcripts about their conversations. It involves demonic a blue-blood handing his grimoire over to the imp in charge of that company. Maybe it’s just me but sounds like a good start to finding our missing weapons shipment if we stuck Artyom on that trail.”

“Between sitting around and doing nothing, I think your plan has substance,” He nodded his skull in approval of such a plan, “If I get into a meeting with the council, they’ll be more receptive to this and I won’t have an army of angels cursing me for being a lazy ass. I’ll see if I can give you and Artyom some clearance for a blank check. Update me when it has come to a dead-end or if you need something… sophisticated.”

Chapter Text

It was a cold morning as a lonely taxi cab drove up to Purgatory’s headquarters. Artyom was forced to leave his car behind for a long time. With his promotion into the investigator ranks, Tony was pulling strings to make sure his home and belongings were maintained while he was away. All he had to do was to report in and make his preparations into Hell.

He stepped out of the car, carrying a duffle bag over his shoulder before the Russian turned around and handed his hard-earned cash into the stranger’s hands. The American took one long look at the amount before his New Yorker accent expressing his surprise. “I’ll be damned. For someone who works for the Department of Purgatory, they sure pay you well. What do they have you do over there?”

“I can’t say,” Confidentiality at its utmost finest as he assured the man his money, “Keep it.”

“Alright, you have a fine morning.”

The taxi drove off into the maze of the city as Artyom stood along the sidewalk and looked towards the light in the distance. A sun rose from the edge of this realm with each ray of light encompassing everything in its wake. He spent a few minutes admiring the natural beauty that Heaven offered to its citizens.

Once his mind had taken the time to imprint this moment, the old soldier turned around and walked towards the entrance with great stride. It will be the last day he would be graced by the holy light.

Inside the building was a woman working behind the desk, managing the day-to-day affairs that the department had to endure. Being the only man inside the entrance, she looked up and noticed him. “Good morning! What can I do for you today?”

The first thing on his mind was the location of the teleporter room. “Do you know where the Isra is located? I’ve been reassigned there.”

“Yes, give me a moment,” His question had managed to affect her expression as if there was a stigma regarding the investigators; however, it would remind an unanswered concern while Artyom watched the blonde with the tied-up hair type on the keyboard, “There is an elevator that is available for you. It’s the third elevator on your right. Make sure you have your clearance ready, it will vaporize those who are not ready to be transported to Hell.”

“Thank you.”

Now that was an unsettling thought on his mind. As he followed her directions, the newly-appointed investigator prepared his identification card. Then his walking ended at the entrance of an elevator, which presented him with a deceptively normal form of transportation. Part of him expected a kind of science fiction-related appearance that he once read in some old comic books. Nonetheless, he prepared himself for the duties that would follow.

Several weeks had passed in Pride as a Heaven safe house busied itself with its work. Investigators were working hard to track down every saved soul who was mistakenly sent into Hell due to administrative mistakes from above. Speed was of utmost importance among these men and women since there was concern about the saved transforming into their sinners as the result of their environment. It was perhaps the worst fate than a saved who was killed by a sinner and would be a write-off for the teams deployed Hellside, hurting the morale that they didn’t save them from their darkest selves.

It was the hardest job within the Department of Purgatory, if not the rest of Heaven. There was no glory to be had when compared to the Seraphim Guard or the divisions of saved souls who willingly served their respective Archangel in the name of God. They were barely recognized by the other branches of the realm’s armed forces and these small detachments were scrutinized for even trying to reach out to the lost souls.

Pavel knew this well as he sat at the dinner table with a child he saved from that store. He wasn’t going to let that reality ruin his mood while he ate spaghetti with the spider girl who recovered from her wounds. She slowly ate her food as he smiled at the girl, assuring the child that she didn’t have to worry about him. The meal was well-deserved after all she had been through and he was glad that the medics nursed her health.

One of these days, he was going to enter Heaven and find the bastard who dropped the ball at his workplace. Children were generally accepted into Heaven unless they were psychotic devils but Layla’s personality didn’t fit that persona. She was too nice to be living on the streets of Pride and was perhaps lucky that no pedophile or child murderer noticed to take advantage of her plight. That was perhaps the fortune of Hell, despite the reality being made up of sinners and demons, they had their own rules and laws to live by from those in charge to the overlords who ruled the streets.

A click of steps echoed from the hallways as a man arrived in the doorway of the mess hall. His black suit and tie were a far cry from the sight of uniformed soldiers with kevlar strapped over their chests. The stranger adjusted his glasses as he spoke in an English accent. “Excuse me, is that Layla?”

The communist nodded his head as the little girl noticed the other adult. “Are you here to take her? Does she have any relatives to be with?”

“Yes,” He answered as he gestured his hand towards the child, “Her grandparents own a store and I’ve given them the heads up about the whole situation.”

“Good.”

Layla turned her head towards him. “Are you going to send me to grandpa and grandma?”

“You bet,” He eagerly replied, “They’ll be waiting for you and you don’t have to stay in this dreary place any longer.”

“Why aren’t you coming?”

Perhaps the greatest tragedy of being an investigator is becoming attached to those you save. “I have a job here. What happens if other children don’t belong down here and need a bit of rescuing? Someone has to come to their rescue.”

“I’m going to miss you,” The girl said as he slipped out of his seat and knelt low enough for her to wrap her arms around his head, “Thank you!”

He returned her hug and embraced the fleeting short moments they had left. There was nothing left to be said as Layla followed the stranger out of the room. Pavel walked back to his seat and looked around to see if anyone had noticed him. His heart couldn’t resist himself from shedding a tear for a kid he barely knew.

It didn’t take long to be teleported. The elevator’s design was the same as a few minutes earlier. Perhaps the only sign of the transition was a quick flash inside as Artyom stepped outside the doors to find himself brought into an open room. He looked around to see a massive table in the center of the room full of maps or electronic equipment. On his left were several couches placed in front of a television while there was a kitchen in the background. The right side of the room was completely different, filled with lockers containing weapons and ammo boxes on the bottom. All he needed to do is find the person who was in charge of this place.

A door was opened on the opposite side of the room as a familiar face stepped forward. It was a long time since they had encountered each other when they were alive, making the moment even more special. “I heard they were sending you down here with the rest of us. Good to see you, comrade.”

“Likewise, Uhlman,” Came his reply as he wondered about an old habit of his friend, “Say, do you still bring bad jokes even after death?”

“I aim to disappoint!”

The two fallen Polis Rangers had approached each other and gave a bear hug in their embrace. Uhlman had died in the Moscow Metro as one of the many men who sacrificed their lives at the Battle of D6. His loss took a toll on an already disheartened Artyom, who just watched his commander suffer immense injuries while one of the many powerful members of the Red Line taunted him on the eve of their defeat. Part of Artyom had wondered if he was still lurking in Hell after all this time?

Uhlman took the lead in the conversation as they walked over to the area beside the lockers, sitting down on a bench. “So, how did you die?”

“Radiation poisoning,” He answered as he remembered the past, “The colonel and I died trying to safe his daughter - my wife.”

“You surprise me every time. I didn’t expect you to get married to her of all people. Was she worth it?”

Artyom sat down on the bench and put his duffle bag down. “To the very end, I loved her.”

A hand patted him on the back as if he was proud of such a declaration. “For a fate of a Polis Ranger, you had the best out of us all. But that is enough for now. While everyone is resting up for the next operation, I can give you the run-down of our equipment and how we usually operate. Where do you want to begin?”

“Anything on our weapons?” He asked. It had been some time since he went into combat with a proper weapon and the possibility of it happening in Hell was to be expected, “We probably have something better than what he had when we lived.”

“Ah, something familiar for once!”

The soldier rose from his seat and adjusted his urban pattern uniform as he opened one of the lockers, revealing many weapons inside. Yet, one of the guns was imbued with strange markings which glowed.

“If we encounter any sinners that want to test our patience, the typical guns we use will do their job. However, they’re not the only people living around these parts,” Uhlman’s hand reached for the glowing gun and presented it to the newcomer, “There are special Hellborn nobles and the only way to kill ‘em is using angelic technology to bless your weapons. Doesn’t matter what it is, it will kill them.”

“How often will we be encountering demons and sinners in a fight?”

“It’s pretty much guaranteed unless we have enough connections to make people reconsider their choices in this life of theirs.”

Artyom looked around at the lockers and his eyes glanced at the strange wristbands that were placed in everyone. “What is with the bracelets?”

His old friend reached out to his locker and presented one towards him. “Allow me to demonstrate.”

He slipped it onto his wrist and made the comfortable adjustments before Uhlman twisted it. In a blink of an eye, what was once a man had been replaced by a tall furry creature equipped with a kevlar vest. Lips were red as blood while the mouth was filled with an array of razor-sharp teeth hidden underneath the void inside. The only discernable trace of humanity was his eyes almost covered by the blue fur that encompassed the body.

“What do you think?”

“Is that what people look like down here?” The young man pondered about the strange sample of horror that awaited him in Hell, “I expected something else entirely.”

Uhlman twisted his bracelet again and returned to normal. “What? Did you think people just turned into red-skinned assholes with horns on their heads?

Artyom nodded his head.

“You’re not wrong to think of that but it depends on the souls themselves. A sinner’s appearance is a reflection of how they conducted themselves in life. There is a World War One sinner whose face is only a gas mask because he tortured prisoners with chlorine gas.”

“So what made you choose the creepy suit of fur?”

He laughed at the question. “It reminded me of an American television show called Sesame Street .”

“It must be horrifying if that is your inspiration,” The younger soul remarked as he contemplated what he could look like in this realm, “Do you mind if I get a try?”

“Of course.”

His friend tossed the bracelet to him and watched as Artyom make his adjustments to his wrist. There was nothing to expect but part of him was enthusiastic to see what kind of horrific appearance he could conjure. After he was suited to the feeling, his fingers twisted the small piece of rough metal that allowed his first transformation.

Something felt wrong; yet, he did not know why. The man’s body transformed but somehow retained an essence of himself. He looked down to find his appearance to be different from an office worker with a suit and tie. Instead, it was a body drenched in a black military uniform with a cloak encompassing his body. Then his hand reached for his face to see what had changed, only for the fingers to feel a gas mask being hidden underneath a hood.

What did he look like? “Thoughts?”

“Where do I begin?” Uhlman walked over to his locker and opened it, “You look like you’re just another stalker in the Moscow Metro. I suppose there are some things that never change.”

“Not my fault that I’m new to using it.”

Once the bracelet was disabled, it was handed back over to the former Polis Ranger. “It’s great to have you here. Get acquainted with the equipment around these parts and don’t be afraid to ask questions. As of right now, the guys upstairs are working on your sinner background for the mission ahead.”

“What kind of mission?” He wondered, curious about what was needed to be done, “Every detail matters.”

“Infiltration. There’s an imp who is breaking the rules between Hell and reality. Until we have something concrete, you’re going to be a sinner who is willing to work for him and earn his trust.”

Now that was something he was not expecting. “Spycraft? Really?”

“Yes,” The man answered before letting out a deep breath and closing his locker, “There is more to Hell than you realize and we need to keep ourselves from being revealed to everyone else. No one in this building wants to stir trouble with Lucifer Morningstar.”

A hallway door was opened as someone walked into the room with several boxes in hand. The duo turned their heads to find a mechanical humanoid enter the room with glowing red eyes. “Comrades, I think we should have pizza tonight!”

He turned his head towards them as he reluctantly reached for his bracelet.

“Artyom?”

His voice clicked into the Russian’s mind. He looked into the deepest pits of his mind in search of those memories. It did not take long before the mechanical humanoid transformed into a man. Once recognized, only blood boiled within his veins as the newcomer to the safehouse had walked over lunged his fist. A single punch knocked him down on the floor as the boxes were stumbling atop of him.

Uhlman rushed forward and stood in his way. “What was that for?!”

“He was General Korbut’s second-in-command,” The young man shifted his eyes towards his friend, hardened with fury, “The man betrayed me.”

“Whatever happened between you two is over. Both of you are dead and whatever grievances you two have against each other should not interfere with our missions. Cut it out.”

His eyes looked down on the man who was lying on the ground. There was an instinctual demand to finish what had been started back then; however, his friend continued further.

“Why don’t you take a nice walk and get acquainted with the neighborhood?” Uhlman stated as he pointed towards his bracelet, “When you come back here, take your job seriously or I’ll send you back to Heaven. I don’t care if Tony or Death sent you.”

An order was an order and it didn’t take long for him to leave the confines of the safe house in his new Hell form. While he walked past a Pavel lying on the ground, the man reached out and grabbed him by the foot. “I’m sorry for what I did, chuvak.”

He did not know how to react to the apology. Part of him wanted to give him the boot; however, it was never in his nature to be cruel. Instead, Artyom shook the former communist’s hand away and approached the exit. Time was needed to think about it.

So much for the pizza.

Pavel quietly walked through the streets as the literal gears on his Hell form began to grind and whine with mechanical repetition. He remembered the treachery at his hands when he drank with Artyom after escaping a collection of monsters. The communist fooled himself that he was doing the Metro right by helping General Korbut conquer the tunnels and the stations for himself. Sure, he was a loyal hero of the Red Line but that very loyalty blinded him to his heart. There was a wish in his heart to turn back the clock and maintain his friendship with the Polis Ranger; however, he doubted that his former enemy would be so willing to reconcile their past. After all, he did try to kill him at the Red Square with several platoons of special forces.

The question was why did Artyom spare him? Did he see through his bravado and learn of the pain he carried inside him? Was the man able to see the terrible truth that they were forced to fight each other due to the flags behind their barricades?

His recollection of these memories had left a bad feeling in his stomach and the only way to remedy that was through alcohol. Fortunately, Hell contained many establishments to fulfill that purpose whether it be gentlemen clubs or bars. Despite their availability, there was an unspoken rule amongst the sinner populations - if you liked one place, stay there. It didn’t matter where he went, Pavel had to take into account that a neighborhood or a district belonged to one overlord’s turf or another. If a sinner was caught with the scent of a drink the locals didn’t sell, they would be kicked out at best or publicly killed on the spot as an insult to an overlord.

When he found his destination, the humanoid machine entered the pub to find it quiet and calm as he approached the bar with the owner on the other side. “Same as usual.”

The bartender didn’t need to speak as he reached for a bottle on the stand behind him and passed it over to him. A silent agreement was made between the two that once he finished his affair, he would hand over his cash… after the communist was sober.

Pavel observed his surroundings and those who were present in the room. A wide variety of people came in all shapes and sizes from a countless number of backgrounds he was not too keen on knowing. Everyone in this building was full of sinners with dark deeds under their name, which made him slightly uncomfortable since it could range from homicidal psychopaths to sex-crazed pedophiles. It was good that his drink tempered those nerves as his steel lips chugged the bottle.

A bell rang and caused the man to turn his head towards the doorway, only to find a Hell-born stride across the room for an empty stool. Unlike the sinners, they were not bound to the same social norms and could freely pass through the various levels that sinners were not permitted to go through.

The walking rodent with spurs seemed to be akin to a cowboy as he took his seat with pride in his posture. He wondered what a stranger like him was doing here but those thoughts deserved to remain unvoiced. No reason to spoil his moment for a meager question.

Soon a commotion erupted outside of the pub before a group of sinners in black uniforms and gas masks had entered. Pavel stole a glance from the newcomers; however, he froze in his chair as he recognized the infamous symbol of the Third Reich. He had forgotten that even Hell contained the original bastards of that ancient evil but he had no intentions of meeting them in person.

One of the men stepped forward, wearing a peaked cap while the others wore helmets - an officer. Unlike the men of the Fourth Reich, these damned souls contained their German heritage. “It has come to my attention that this establishment contains undesirables. My men and I intend to rectify that concern so I ask all of you to personally assist us in this endeavor. It’s just going to be a quick affair.”

Their presence made his blood boil; however, he needed to maintain the Department of Purgatory’s secrecy within this dark realm. Yet, it didn’t take long for the officer to walk up to him as he breathed heavily behind his gas mask. A baton was extended from his side as he directed it at his bottle. “Well, have you seen a communist around these parts?”

Not a single word came out of his lips before the Hell-born imp had spoken up in his foreign accent. “Hey asshole, why don’t you leave these sinners alone? No one likes you. Hell, not even us imps like you.”

“Ah,” The Nazi officer acknowledged his presence as he knocked Pavel’s bottle onto the floor with his baton. Then he walked past the investigator and approached the imp, “What you see as an inconvenience, I see it as a necessity. We can’t have inferior beings running amok.”

“You’re in Hell. For some things never change that very reason, you’re already inferior when compared to the people upstairs. After all, it’s your kind that gets killed by the exterminators every year.”

He scoffed at his reply, angry by the public denouncement. “Let that be the last words you’ve ever spoken.”

Soon the masked man walked up to the imp. Pavel watched the moment unfold before he blinked and saw the sentient rodent draw his pistol so quickly. Before the Nazi had a chance to react, the room echoed with a loud bang before the stranger’s barrel was smoking as a blood-curdling voice gasped.

“You bastard.”

When the body was slumped across the floor, his men eagerly drew their pistols as Pavel felt the need to intervene with his hand reaching for his holster. “No matter where I go, there is never an end to men like yourselves.”

The communist’s arm extended outward and fired upon the Nazis without hesitation. Violence was commonplace around these parts where the bystanders watched as several men were cut down by gunfire before their very eyes. Despite the initial casualties, he fled the scene and sought the kitchen. Sooner or later, they would use their overwhelming numbers to chase after him. While he ran, the cowboy imp followed after him and fired upon their pursuers.

Gunshots rang out throughout the pub before the duo took refuge inside the kitchen, using a counter for cover. Pavel had to admit that the imp’s actions were something he didn’t have to account for. “Got to admit, I didn’t think you would shoot their officer.”

“Really? I always found those kinds of sinners to be annoying,” He turned his head and expressed a large smile. “Name’s Striker, nice to meet ya.”

They soon shook hands; however, the Russian’s mind was rapidly searching for a fake name. It was the policy of the investigators to avoid using their identities during their work. “Crimson.”

Soon they heard the thunder of footsteps storm into the room before the duo fired their guns blindly over the counter. They really couldn’t hold these men back and so the supposed sinner looked at his surroundings to find a way out. Onto his left was an open door that led into a back alley and that was where their escape would be.

“Hey, why don’t you cover me while I move? I’ll return the favor.”

“Team up?” Striker was taken aback by the suggestion, “Don’t try to backstab me, sinner.”

The communist rose from behind the counter and rushed towards the exit while his sidearm fired quickly into the dozens of men storming in. After he was outside, he looked back to find Striker suppressed by several sub-machine guns but Pavel did intend to keep his promise as he emptied his magazine for a fresh one. Once he finished reloading, the investigator returned fire upon the men as the imp swiftly rushed through the room and escaped the hail of bullets that riddled through the air.

“Thanks, but I think this is where we take our separate ways. See you elsewhere.”

Both strangers nodded their heads before fleeing the scene with platoons of Nazis chasing after them.

A sinner strolled through the park by her lonesome. The school season had finished and the Hell-born children were off for the summer, leaving behind plenty of time for herself. Visiting parks was Mrs. Mayberry’s most fond pastime when she was alive. After all, it was how she met her ex-husband in the first place where she strolled to enjoy the scenery and ran into him while he jogged. The beginning of a relationship that would result in marriage.

Soon the teacher kept Gerald out of her thoughts as much as possible. She did not need him to spoil the pleasant afternoon meal set for today. As her hooves clicked against the concrete sidewalks, a cool breeze of the air fell upon her face and blew her hair. Even in Hell, a sinner could have something akin to a nice day… if one ignored the screaming and the gunfire.

She had found an empty picnic table and Mrs. Mayberry eagerly took her seat and sought out a paper brown bag hidden deep within her purse. The woman dug through her belongings from credit cards to the objectives she intended to pursue throughout the summer. Once she found it, her hands reached for a sandwich inside a plastic bag and a bottle of lemonade inside.

It began with a sandwich made up of cheese, lettuce, and corned beef. They were good on their own but as she chewed, the flavors of the food began to mix inside her mouth and resulted in an explosion of taste. What had also helped was the addition of the honey mustard providing an additional layer to an already fine sandwich.

Mayberry felt rather parched a few minutes after eating half her sandwich and refreshed herself with a cold sip from her bottle. Liquid sweetness washed away the food on her tongue like a dam being broken by the tide. Much more, the cold temperature flowed into her throat, making her spine shiver and bringing goosebumps to her skin.

Everything seemed perfect on this day.

A blur of black and red had rushed past her before the teacher sensed the wrongness of the moment. Then she looked around the bench to find a purse removed from its owner. The thief was not too far from the scene as he turned around to snicker and giggle at the sinner’s expense, revealing an evil smile on his face before running away. No amount of cold drinks could temper the emotions she had before the flaring of her wrath. “You motherfucker!”

She lept from her seat and chased after the perpetrator with great haste before he left the confines of the park. They ran across open ground to climb up a hill, only to descend just as quickly. The pain built up in her legs as if she was lit on fire; however, the woman continued the pursuit thanks to the power of adrenaline.

The imp made his way towards a large tree, whose titanic size towered over the whole park. It looked to be that he intended to run past it but then a hand shot out and grabbed the thief by the throat. She stopped and let her legs recover for a moment as the person hiding underneath the tree’s shadow was revealed. A figure of a man stepped forward as he took one long look at the imp before stealing a glance at her.

Mrs. Mayberry made sure she kept to herself in a realm full of strangers and dangers. Yet, this individual felt different but she didn’t know why. The man’s military fatigues were an indicator of his military background while his body was wrapped in a dark cloak. Something about him was thrilling as if he was a wraith instead of a person.

He walked over to her and spoke in a Russian accent. “Is this your purse?”

“Yes,” She nodded her head as her legs trudged forward, “The fucker stole my purse while I was eating.”

“Hand it over.”

The imp’s attitude did him no favors while the stranger’s gas mask shined in the light. It was rather unsettling, to look at the glass, only to find that there was no face hiding underneath it. However, the very mysterious face was more than enough for the imp to reluctantly hand the purse back to the woman. His hand released the grip on the creature’s throat and let him flee without harassment.

“I hope you have everything.”

The teacher quickly searched into her bag for her belongings and it was a relief that nothing fell out throughout the chase. “I do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” He answered calmly, “I hope you have a pleasant time in the park.”

“Say, what are you doing here? I don’t wish to pry but you seem a bit out of place for a sinner like yourself.”

It was strange to find a former soldier traversing through a park all by himself. What could a man such as him do at a place like this? Couldn’t he drink his sorrows away at a bar or meet with other soldiers of a similar conflict? There had to be a reason for him to be lurking around these parts. “It just reminds me of home.”

“Really?” That was not an answer that Mrs. Mayberry was expecting as she slipped her purse’s straps over her shoulder, “Anything particular about this place that resonates with you?”

“There was a park just like this in Moscow. We called it the Botanical Gardens. It was perhaps the last fond place I remembered before the bombs fell… before I was brought into a bomb shelter called the Metro.”

He was a post-apocalypse survivor. The teacher knew that Hell took in people from different universes; however, she doubted those claims and did not expect to encounter someone from a different reality than hers. Strange to think that someone such as himself would be so nice on her behalf but perhaps he did something so sinister to deserve such a place in Hell.

Thunder erupted from above as a great downpour of rain followed afterward. Mayberry yelped at the moment, seeking shelter at the base of the incredibly long tree. The stranger joined her as they waited out the rain and kept themselves dry. As time passed, she stood tall and hoped her hooves wouldn’t be ruined by the mud when it was all over. Meanwhile, she looked at the stranger to find him sitting down with his back against the bark, pulling out a bullet from his pockets. Then he flicked the top open and revealed the bullet lighter in his hands.

It will take some time before the rain would stop and so the teacher felt the urge to get to know the stranger. “So, what is your name?”

The way he looked up at her made it seem that he was caught off-guard by the question.

“Not a talkative type?”

He shook his head before following up with an answer, “No. I just usually keep my distance from others. Trust but verify as they say in Russia.”

“It sounds a bit paranoid if you ask me,” Mayberry replied, “How can you live like that?”

“I ask myself the same question but it’s how a stalker survives. You can never know the true intentions of a person until you stick with them for a long time.”

She felt compelled to compare to his standards. “How do I measure up?”

He stood up and let out a light chuckle underneath his gas mask.

“Is it that bad?”

“No,” He answered, “I just don’t have anything to say.”

A tone rang in his pockets as he reached inside his pants and brandished his phone.

“My apologies, I have to take this call.”

She nodded her head and looked out to the rest of the park, watching the raindrops lower the temperature the longer the storm went on. At the same time, the sinner could hear the man converse with the strangers on the phone. Whoever it was, made the discussion sound serious in the Russian language.

Her shoulders shivered with chills as her hands reached over and rubbed the cold off. Then the stranger spoke, “I suppose this is where we end this eventful meeting. My coworkers need me right now because someone is in trouble.”

“Good luck,” Mayberry remarked, “Hope it gets worked out in the end.”

“Thanks.”

The ex-soldier walked past her but took a few steps and stopped in the rain. Then he turned around and gave the woman one more look. “Something wrong?”

“My name is Artyom. It was nice to meet you.”

“Mrs. Mayberry.”

Soon their exchange of words had ended and the soldier had departed from the teacher’s side as they went on with the rest of their day.

Fleeing from several platoons full of genuine Nazis had grown tiresome for Pavel. Every time he turned around the corner of a street, they would show up in an armored car. Why couldn’t the bastards cut their losses and call it a day? Fortunately, it was traffic hour and that made their navigation incredibly difficult with all these cars in the way.

Once he took a shortcut through an alleyway, the communist looked across the street to find a massive concert with music and lights to entertain the masses of Hell. If he went there, a person such as himself would be so out of place when compared to the fashion-savvy teenagers. Then he looked over his shoulder to find the German armored car driving after him. “Damn it!”

The man ran for his life as his mechanical legs went into overdrive.

When he was in the midst of the concert, he calmly walked past those enthralled in the entertainment. Yet, the closer he approached the front through the crowd, he noticed a lithe figure walking across the stage with the lights focused on her persona. Her sultry voice enhanced the lyrics while her fans cheered for her in complete excitement. Some were even going so far as to ask for the demon’s signature on their boobs.

It was a tempting thought to stay and watch what went on; however, Pavel knew better than to let the Nazis catch him in the moment. Maybe he could spend a day looking up this particular succubus? His nerves reminded him of the current predicament as he looked over his shoulder to find several Nazis slipping through but they were unaware of his presence.

The communist knew it would be a matter of time for his pursuers to realize where he was. As he stole glances from his surroundings, his eyes noticed an entrance beside the stage, guarded by this massive hellhound. Walking along the way, the guard seemed to be keeping the fans from going backstage with his intimidating presence.

There had to be a way to get through.

It took him by surprise when someone’s panties landed on his shoulder. Someone was enjoying the concert too much but his mind was brightened with an idea to distract the guard from his duties. Pavel grabbed the underwear and stretched it enough to become its projectile while aiming for the bored hellhound.

Once brought to the limit, his fingers released and let it fly across dozens upon dozens of fans, only to slam into the man. Without hesitation, Pavel ran out of the crowd and dodged him on his way inside. Haste was his best friend lest the demon born removed it.

Backstage was a different story as an army of technicians and dressers were present. Some of the dresses he had seen would make a woman blush given how much skin it would reveal. It was tempting to start stealing with the hopes of gifting it to some sinner but he had little time to be a thief as he heard the German accents chase after him.

He made sure it would be a calm stroll through the concert’s employees to avoid alerting them to his intrusion. The last thing he wanted to do is get tossed out and be at the mercy of the Nazi sinners. Yet, this rewarded him with a way out as he finally reached the other side of the concert perimeter to find an open driveway.

The moment was too good to be true as he ran towards the exit; however, he noticed the German armored car roll inside the area as they searched the surrounding area. On his right was a changing room with someone’s name on it, surely if he hid there, they wouldn’t dare to step inside?

Pavel swiftly entered the building and sought refuge. His head frantically looked for a hiding spot but everything was surprisingly organized before he noticed a closet. He ran over and opened it up, revealing a massive array of clothing far beyond his expectations but maybe it would be enough to hide. Without question, the communist dived into clothes and dug so deep he found the backside of the closet.

He paused his movements when he heard a door creak open. Footsteps searched around the room with great haste as dark figures dominated the space. Angry orders were dispatched as the saved buried himself beneath the clothing but then he heard a pair of feet walking over to the closet. The anticipation was killing him as he slowed his breathing and calmly watched as the sinner’s shadow loomed over the clothes. A single sound or movement would be the death of him.

One of the men spoke up, “Is he there?”

“No,” He answered, “Doesn’t seem to be.”

“Let’s go then. The commie would probably find somewhere better to hide in.”

Time passed as the footsteps left the room and they closed the door on their way out. However, he wasn’t going to give them the benefit of the doubt and remained in the closet for several more minutes. Outside the windows, he could hear the German vehicle drive off, giving him clear signals that they were gone for good.

When he stepped out of the closet, his nose sensed the perfume all over his body. “Damn, I got to take a show after this.”

The chase was over and now he had to return to the safehouse before Uhlman tore him a new asshole for missing the scheduled briefings. Before he could leave the changing room, there was a desk across from him with a driving key hanging beside a mirror. A label was attached, revealing it was connected to someone’s car. Well, he could return in style.

He took the keys for himself and walked out the door with excitement for the freedom he regained before the shooting at the bar. Once he activated the unlock signals, a car beeped in front of him. Then Pavel found himself demoralized to find out how pink the car’s paint was. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been too enthusiastic about the ride?

It did not matter as he took his seat as the driver and ran the vehicle forward towards the nearest exit. As he strolled through the concert, a group of demon girls saw his car and rushed forward. What could he do? They cheered and screamed in absolute delight and he even heard one of them declare her love for him. While he navigated through the crowd, his eyes noticed someone approaching the vehicle on the right side.

The succubus that was on the stage was now standing near the passenger side, surprised by his arrival. Then a sudden realization came to her. “Wait a fucking minute, who’s the motherfucker driving my car?!”

All he had to do was drive and Pavel slammed his foot on the accelerator. Time to head home.

Uhlman sat quietly near his radio set. Ever since Artyom and Pavel were told to cool off, he listened to the conversations between Blitzo and Stolas about their contract in regards to the grimoire. Unfortunately, he also had to listen to their sexual depravity and it did his mind no wonders. He was not a religious man but he prayed that as soon he finishes his assignment at investigating this particular imp, he would ask for a nice vacation to drown his mind from the mental images.

He heard a door unlock behind his back and so he swiveled around in his chair to see who had entered. Past the open door and into the hallway, Pavel looked worse for wear than he was when he left the building under his orders. What happened to him? “Hey, are you alright?”

“I got chased by a group of Nazi sinners,” He answered as he turned his head towards him, “Had to lose them at a succubus concert.”

“Oh.”

That was a big deal since the succubi could easily enthrall those to their pleasures. It was a surprise to find his colleague surviving his encounter with the woman. “I also stole her car on the way out.”

“You what?!” Uhlman was shocked as he rose from his seat and walked over to confront him. At the same time, his nose managed to catch the scent of perfume from the man, “Do you realize what kind of heat you’re bringing us? The last thing we need is some Hell born to notice our operations! Now, whose car did you steal?”

“I checked the car’s info… it belonged to someone by the name of Verosika.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing and there were only two words that could express the severity of the situation. “Cyka blyat!"

Chapter Text

Life as an imp was incredibly harsh and Hell just made everything worse. Few seldom get the chance to make a name for themselves while the rest of their kind fall into irrelevance. Blitzo was one of many who wanted that chance. He once had dreams for himself but few knew the true side of his soul… if he had one anyway.

The Immediate Murder Professionals - Blitzo knew the irony of that acronym - was the company to help compensate tackle his emotional problems. After all, no amount of quiet tears in his lonesome would compare to the euphoria of killing someone at the satisfaction of a client and the money that came with it. The problem was that the business had not been thriving ever since he started the company. He had two married imps and his adopted Hellhound daughter as his employees but that was it. Anymore and I.M.P. would be in the red, which was not something he could tolerate.

Something needed to be done for the company to make more money and to tell Moxxie to shut the fuck up about his spending habits. He was already fucking a talkative bird just to have access to his grimoire and the last thing he needed was a possum to tell him how he should manage the company’s finances. Despite his misgivings towards his employee, he did have a point. Still, how was he going to deal with that issue?

Blitzo shrugged his shoulders at the thought while leaning back in his chair. He’d think it over after some self erotic role-play in his office. Thank goodness the room was soundproof.

His phone rang and spoiled the mood. Whatever he had in mind was gone as he reached into his pocket and reluctantly pulled it out. It better not be Stolas and his desire to set up another date. That hungry bastard had several strange tastes but Blitzo knew that it was his only way to get the Grimoire and get into the mortal realms, well, one of them. After he caught a glimpse of the caller ID, he let out a relieving breath knowing it was his daughter. His fingertips tapped the green phone and answered. “Loona, what is it? Can’t you see I’m busy here?”

“A sinner is knocking on our door. He said he’s not a client but wants to talk with you,” Spoke the bored hellhound, “Should I tell him to fuck off?”

“What the Hell, I’m in a good mood today. Send him in?”

Loona’s phone bumped loud enough for him to hear. “Okay, he’s your problem.”

A sinner who wasn’t a client? What did today have in store for him? Hopefully, the sinner would have a good reason. Sometimes, there would always be those homeless people who were trying to make ends meet but I.M.P. was not a charity shelter.

He rose from his seat and made his way towards the door, opening it to find a large pink room, which was a contrast to his dark office. On the other side was a couch where his two married imps were conversing with each other while stealing a glance to his left, only to find his daughter sitting behind a counter and texting on her phone.

Blitzo immediately noticed the sinner standing across from her. He must have been in the military due to wearing a camouflage uniform. That was not all as the stranger was covered in a dark ethereal cloak over his clothes and his face sealed behind a gas mask.

The first thought that came to his mouth was the introductions. “Who the fuck are you?”

“My name is Railtracer,” He answered with a Russian accent, “You must be Blitz-is the ‘o’ silent in your name?”

“Yeah, what about it?”

Wait? Did this guy actually pay attention to his name for once? Then the sinner reached into his pocket and revealed layers of paper in a neat square until he unfolded a poster in his hands. “I was looking for you all thanks to this piece of advertisement.”

“Let me see,” The imp walked up to him and snatched it out of his hands, only to find an IMP advertisement about him hiring new employees into the company. It jogged his memory but this was back when he started out and he only took on Moxxie and his wife, “This is old! Where did you get this - the trash can?”

“A trash bin but that is semantics. Is there a process when you interview new employees?”

Oh, he wanted to join the company. He should have begun with that but then he realized what those details entailed. “You do realize that you’re a sinner, right? You’re not allowed to leave Hell no matter what you do?”

“If you think I’m trying to leave Hell, you are absolutely wrong,” Was he trying to bullshit him? It was bad enough that he was using a Grimoire to reach the mortal plane and much worse knowing that a Hell-born noble knew about his business operations, but what was the guy’s point, “I could honestly care less what goes on up there. Just looking for a job that pays decently.”

“Look, I appreciate the offer but our operations involve leaving Hell to kill people. Even Loony occasionally joins us now and then.”

His daughter then spoke her mind about how she felt. “I do it because it’s boring to be sitting behind this desk until you, Millie, and fatty get back.”

“See!” He said to the man, “Much as I like to expand, you don’t happen to be someone I’m looking for.”

“How often do your guns break down?”

Blitzo was taken aback by the question as he planted his hands on his hips. “What?”

“You use guns, right? Sure, they might be produced in Hell but they still have their limits,” Railtracer slipped his hands into his pockets, “Sometimes the magnification is off, gun jams at the wrong time at the right time to shoot, even the barrel feels like it's welded to a glue gun. Have you ever encountered that problem?”

He was about to reply but a smaller imp strode towards the conversation from his wife on the couch. His horns were striped in a combination of black and white while he adjusted his bowtie near the neck collar of his clothes. “That does happen to us. Do you know how to fix them?”

“Yes. Fixing weapons was part of my training when I was alive and I still did it until I died. Figured it would be useful to a company that is tight-strapped with money.”

“How do you know we’re not doing well?” Wondered the imp, “We’ve never told you anything.”

Blitzo felt like he needed to be in control of the conversation. Not to mention, it wasn’t his employee’s business to talk about their financial situation. “Zip it, Moxxie. This is our conversation, can’t you see?”

“Sir, we can hear you from the couch.”

“That’s not the point,” The boss stated before turning his full attention towards the sinner, “How do you know that?”

Railtracer let out a slight chuckle despite his face being contained by his gas mask. “Mostly rumors. Some guys were talking behind your back at some of the banks about how your company is doomed for failure because of you.”

“Now choose your next words carefully, buddy. I’m not fond of assholes who talk behind my back.”

“Honestly, I think they’re being too pessimistic,” He replied before continuing, “Where they see failure, I see opportunity. If you hire me, I can help reduce those extra costs procuring weapons by maintaining them in the best condition. That way, you can spend less on replacements.”

He was taken aback by the sound logic he was providing for his services, not to mention the confidence he had in his skill. The entrepreneur couldn’t lie to himself that an employee who dabbles in maintenance was incredibly handy. “I’ll be damned, I can’t seem to find a single bad thing out of this interview of ours.”

Still, he had some reservations as he walked up to the sinner and snatched his collar, bringing the man’s head towards him.

“Let me be clear, if you fuck this up, I’ll make sure your ass will hang from my ceiling. Do you understand?”

“Crystal,” Answered the Russian as he stole a glance from the others, “I won’t disappoint you.”

Now that was a great sign that things were going to change for the better as he brightened his mood. “Good! I really don’t want another Moxxie in this company.”

From the corner of Blitzo’s eyes, his employee’s jaw dropped. The spiteful satisfaction in his heart was something to behold.

“Welcome to the company Railtracer. Loona, get him named in the system. Moxxie, show him our dicks.”

“Yes sir,” Soon the smaller creature brought the sinner’s attention, “Come with me, Railtracer, time to take inventory.”

Days passed since Pavel brought the heat on himself and the rest of his comrades at the safe house. They were supposed to plant Artyom into I.M.P. the next day; however, Uhlman had to postpone the operation and keep it low. Fortunately, they were all lucky that no one was investigating their building for a celebrity’s car.

When the situation cleared up, now the former communist had to make his way to the home of a succubus and return the vehicle. It was an order he didn’t want to comply with since it entailed some problems of him simply getting recognized by the people he stole from. Still, he would try.

He drove throughout the city in Hell, witnessing the sights of all sorts of sins its occupants were capable of, but no amount of excess in pleasure and pain would stop him. All he had to do was park the vehicle and make his way back to the safe house with no repercussions.

Then he found Verosika Mayday’s home. It was a mansion on top of a hill, overlooking the rest of the neighborhood. If Pavel wanted to avoid attention, it was going to be hard to be a strange outside arriving at the noticeable building and its luxurious owner. He nonetheless drove through the street just to reach the driveway, ignoring the local rich kids on their phones. What was it with those damn phones?

His foot pressed against the brakes and slowed down to park. He looked ahead to find a bunch of cars in front of the garage and he was relieved. Surely, they wouldn’t notice another car in place. Then he turned off the car’s engine and quickly slipped out of the car casually. Now he just needed to leave without causing a ruckus.

Pavel’s hands slipped into his pockets as he strolled onto the sidewalk. It was done and now he just needed to return back home. Suddenly, a shadow peered over him from behind and a hand grabbed him from the collar. “What the-?!”

“So, you’re the guy who stole Verosika’s car?” The stranger remarked, “I smelled you a mile away.”

“Chyort. Here I thought things would go smoothly. Can’t you just let me go, I brought the car back.”

He looked over his shoulder to see a tall and surprisingly well-cut Hellhound look down on him. The Hellborn started to scratch his chin. “Was this your way of apologizing? Seemed like a strange way of doing it.”

“I know, I know.” The Saved admitted to his captor, “I was running from some Neo-Nazis who wanted my head. Didn’t want to steal a celebrity’s car other than for my survival. Besides, my colleagues ordered me to hand it back… one way or another.”

“Ha! That has got to be the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

He let out a slight chuckle despite being held like a cat’s neck being gripped. “Tell me about it. So will you let me go?”

“Unfortunately, no,” He replied, “I’m Verosika’s security detail. It’s my job to deal with stuff like this. Got to bring you to the pool and let her decide.”

“I understand. Name’s Pavel, good to meet someone decent around these parts.”

While they turned around and walked towards the mansion, his hand was shaken. “Pals call me Vortex. The only time I encounter sinners like yourself is when they’re trying to tap my employer’s ass on stage. What kind of work do you have going around stealing other people’s cars?”

“Headhunting,” Despite being genuinely honest with the guy, telling him the clandestine operations of Heaven would have him kicked out of the department, for good. Hopefully, questions like that wouldn’t crop up, “My guys and I are paid to go find people across Hell and send them to processing. Beyond that, I tell you anymore.”

“You guys traffic sinners? Sheesh and here I thought you’d be a gentleman.”

They walked to the side of the house and made their way toward the backyard. “It’s nothing bad. I’m just obliged to tell non-employees what happens when they get to upper management.”

When they reached the backyard, a pool was in its center filled with handsome and beautiful succubus demons spending their day. Four of them were playing volleyball in the back, three were swimming in the water, and one was laid out on a pool float - her skin being exposed to the sun as sunglasses rested atop her face. Pavel immediately recognized the last one, the succubus who was angry at him.

“Are you going to tell her?”

Vortex cleared his throat as he approached the edge of the pool. “Verosika, look who I found.”

The woman turned her head towards the Hellhound and raised her sunglasses above her eyes. “Oh shit. Where did you find him?”

“Just on the driveway. He was trying to return your car and I caught him before he left. Said he was just escaping some guys before being told to return it.”

“And you apparently took his word for it,” She answered with great skepticism, “Really?”

He made a slight gesture towards the front of the mansion. “Well, your car is back.”

“Okay, I’ll deal with him after I get my tan. Kiki? Please give our thief a bit of company.”

One of the succubus girls in the pool replied in delight. “No problem, girl. Vortex, please blindfold him. Can’t let his eyes get spoiled.”

Pavel frantically looked at Vortex out of worry.”What are they going to do?”

“Sorry man,” He answered, “It’s my job.”

A succubus in a two-piece swimsuit had climbed out of the pool and led the way for the Hellhound carrying the disguised Saved. Being a communist was hard in the afterlife but the Russian quietly prayed to himself for a bit of mercy as the trio left the others behind and began to enter the mansion.

The inspections with the weapons had gone well and Blitzo was impressed with his knowledge of firearms. To Artyom’s surprise, they also had a weapons catalog to assist in the maintenance or if he wanted to find out what weapon needed which part. Yet, he shouldn’t celebrate his acceptance into the company. He was a hair away from rejecting and the real work of revenge hadn’t even started.

He took an opportunity to excuse himself from his work and use one of the restrooms to make a call. When he entered the room, the saved calmly looked underneath each of the stalls to make sure that there was no one present. Once he was isolated, the Russian entered one of the stalls and pulled out his phone.

A few numbers were set out and he called his superior. Minutes passed in silence before someone answered. Uhlman’s voice was on the other side. “Report.”

“Mission completed. Target has accepted Matryoshka into the company,” Artyom answered but now he wondered about the future, “What now?”

“A few of our comrades have set up some things you might need. There’s a residence we’ve bought in case your colleagues ask where you live. You’ll stay there and use the car we also bought. Can’t have you step out of a strange white van when you need to go to work.”

It was a start to his new life in Hell. Now he needed to wait for the next phase. “Any signs of our targets?”

“Not yet,” Came a reply, “The department’s best bet is that we find the blessed weapons. If I.M.P. goes out to buy from a dealer, join them and send any information about any suspicious dealers. Understood?”

“Yes.”

A slight laugh escaped from his superior. “I know this might be a bit hard for you but pretend that you have a social life outside of your workspace. It will feel natural. Good luck, comrade.”

When the call ended, Artyom rose from his seat and left the stall with his phone in hand. “For the colonel.”

A sinner laid down on her couch eating ice cream while watching television. It was one of her fine habits to spend the free nights of work on her lonesome with the cold treat. She was surprised that even in this hellscape, frozen food was a thing amongst the sinner and Hellborn populations. Not that she complained about it; in fact, Mayberry was glad for it since sinners can’t get fat. After all, a soul died the way it was, not giving anyone a chance to change themselves.

Her mind shifted to a dark thought to herself about her actions before her suicide. Was it worth it? Sure, Gerald cheated on her but now her soul was damned to eternity. The young woman’s mind thought about the mortal world and the legacy she left behind. She was seen as a crazy psycho who finally snapped while that bitch and her family were treated like royalty. When I.M.P. told her about Gerald’s side chick and their murderous family, why was she being punished? Wouldn’t God see that as a good thing?

Whatever was being displayed on the channel had taken a break before the advertisements began. Normally, she would switch the channel but she resonated with the blonde girl talking on the show. The teacher heard of this through her limited contacts with the genuinely good teachers about the princess of Hell running a hotel that supposedly practices redemption. She watched the commercial play out as the Hell born was charismatic enough to try and entice her soul to find a place in Heaven.

It was a tempting thought to go there but reality often squashed any hopes. This was no different as the television audience and crews openly mocked the idea, disheartening the girl in the process. Mayberry felt pity for her. It wasn’t her fault that the rest of Hell won’t see her eye-to-eye. It would have been nice to validate the girl’s sentiments but she made her decision in life and the rest of eternity would be placed in Hell.

Then her attention was placed elsewhere when the ceiling began to groan. As the woman finished eating her ice cream, a pipe fell from above and landed on the carpet in front of her. Water started to pour into the room, drenching the floor as she got up from her seat and watched the television get short-circuited. Soon after, a fire started spoiling the atmosphere.

The owner of the motel was a cheapskate and the fact he was unwilling to fix this building infuriated her. She wasn’t going to deal with this bullshit anymore. Perhaps it was time to move out and start again but where would she go? Her eyes stole a glance at the burning television screen. Maybe this was a premonition of sorts?

It was a great day to be gay - both figuratively and literally. The porn star had been in the mood to go shopping and was up to his usual hijinks. Ever since Sir Pentious went out of his way to stake a claim over Cherrybomb’s turf, he needed some ammo for his guns. His royal host and her girlfriend would have been disappointed in him, but he couldn’t care less so long as his friend got the backup she needed. After all, he had a reputation to maintain.

He nonetheless felt a bit of shame knowing that Charlie and Vaggie became the laughing stock of Hell on live television. Angel Dust needed to redeem himself for that particular fuck up on his part. As much as he loved to mock the duo with terrible jokes, they deserve that at the very least. Were it not for them, today he would have continued to be a piece of ass for that damned Valentino.

The homosexual gangster made his way to the bad part of town and strolled through the sidewalk. Then he passed by two muscular sharks in wifebeater clothes. “What are you doing around our turf? You think you could come back here and face us after what happened to the boss? Valentino ain’t getting our neighborhood you hear!”

“I’m not here because of Valentino you schmucks,” Angel Dust replied as he slipped his hands into his pockets, “Now scram before I carve you like your boy.”

“Ain’t happening, faggot.”

They approached him with large grins on their faces. One pulled out a switchblade while the other reached into his holster for his pistol. It was their first mistake as all four of his arms brandished their guns in quick succession - two hands on a shotgun and two duel-wielding pistols. He immediately fired upon the Shark with the revolver, not giving him a chance to fire as the other shark rushed forward with his knife. Unfortunately, his dexterity overcame his foe’s speed, and with a single pull of a trigger, a blast of pellets churned his fellow sinner into mushed meat. With a single pump, a shell popped out before the sexual deviant hid his weapons back on his person. “Oh no, I couldn’t control myself. Too bad that you got a taste of my spunk.”

His sarcastic demeanor upon the victims made his damned soul cherish the moment. It was too good to pass up a remark as he walked past their corpses towards his destination. He had all the time in the world to continue his stroll but the location was not far from his engagement with the local gangsters… or what was left of them.

Angel Dust had entered the perimeter of an airfield but the workers and their managers paid no attention to him as they were used to everyone using their workspace for smuggling operations. It was a known hotspot for sinners with criminal backgrounds to spend their hard-earned cash on all sorts of items. Nothing was sacred among these parts and that included weapons - ranging from blades and bludgeons to shotguns and submachine guns. Yet, these were common amongst the vendors since it takes time to properly make a sinner dead. The real weapons with value were the blessed weapons.

When he entered a hanger, instead of an airplane inside, it was filled to the brim crates. The volume was so much that they were stacked upon each other, enough to make an endless maze for an unfortunate soul to get lost in. However, the former gangster knew his way around after visiting his seller for a long time. It did not take long to find the fat bastard sitting behind a counter and protected by a bulletproof glass to prevent thievery. About anyone could steal these crates but they required special keys inside the airfield master’s office.

An obese man sat behind the window while reading a book in one hand and holding a cigar in another. Once the sinner presented himself, the example of greed and gluttony dropped everything and gleefully smiled. “Ah, another of my favorite customers. What is it that interests you?”

“I’m in need of some automatic firepower,” Angel began as he pulled out a wad of cash on the counter and slowly slipped through a small hole through the bulletproof glass, “After encountering Sir Pentious, he’s going to want a bit of payback for me helping a friend of mine.”

“Cherrybomb, right? Well, it’s fortunate that you have come here on all days. Right now, there’s a discount on normal weapons as we speak.”

That certainly caught his interest while he leaned against the window. “What’s that all about?”

“I got a source that someone had hit a jackpot of a lot of blessed guns. That might interest you,” He added, “Perhaps I might interest you with a buy?”

“As much as I want to send a fucker into the void, permanently, I’ll just do with the normal stuff.”

The vendor smoked his cigar. “As you wish.”

A disguised saved was laying in bed with a female Hellborn resting her head on his supposedly robotic chest. Pavel had expected punishment from Verosika, not a fun time with one of her girls. He should have known about their sexual nature; however, the man was too busy having his time with the succubus to care. His eyes looked down to find that she didn’t mind resting in his arms as if she expressed her own satisfaction with him. Still, he couldn’t stay here any longer as Uhlman would question him about his long time away from the safe house.

The bedroom door slowly opened as Verosika entered with a towel wrapped around her body and covering her head. “It looks like Kiki enjoyed every bit of you. Pity I was here to spice things up.”

Just the thought of the moment took over the former communist’s mind about the level of sexual tention that would come with that. Yet, she seemed to notice his wet dream.

“I know you’re thinking about it,” She continued while her hair was slowly drying, “So why did you still my car? You embarrassed me in front of my fans.”

“Some Neo-Nazis started chasing me around the neighborhood and it just so happened that your car was a convenient getaway to escape getting strung up. I am sorry about that.”

The succubus shrugged her shoulders, revealing a tattooed name crossed out. “No biggie. It’s not as bad as what my ex-boyfriend did to my credit card.”

“I am an officer and a gentleman,” Pavel remarked on his past, “It’s sort of expected of me to have a bit finesse.”

The girl on his chest began to awaken. “The conversation is nice and all but can I get my beauty sleep here. I kinda need it.”

Verosika walked up beside their bed, towering over her companion, “Remember, you’re in my mansion.”

“I know but I haven’t had enough sleep ever since you rode the ox.”

“Was it ever that terrible?” She remarked, “I thought it was fun.”

Vortex walked into the room as the sounds of a cellphone rang. “Hey, Verosika, the sinner’s phone is ringing. Can he take the call?”

“Sure. He had the decency to return my car, I’ll let him. Get changed, sinner.”

Pavel did not need to be told twice as he got changed and accompanied the Hellhound out of the bedroom before Verosika closed it on their way out. The duo descended from the staircase as the bodyguard spoke up. “You’re lucky?”

“What do you mean by that?” He asked, stealing a glance from what seemed to be a newfound friend, “Did Verosika have something worse in store for me?”

“Verosika and her succubus friends were in the heat yesterday. They’re trying to recover from that but had they not been in that mood, they could have killed you.”

Those words managed to release a chuckle from his lips. “Who did the call come from?”

“A guy named Uhlman,” Vortex answered as he passed the phone to the Russian, “Didn’t answer it and I thought it was a bit personal to look into your contacts. Well, my job here is done. I’ll see you on the way off the premises.”

“Thanks, chuvak. I’ll my comrades a good word about you.”

The meeting within the council chambers was adjourned as the inner circle of Heaven’s diligent servants walked out with their respective entourages. Archangel Michael was one of these, who was accompanied by a retinue of five holy knights. As he made his way towards the exit, his first thought to himself was a nice cold beer and a cigarette to cool off.

News of the convoy attack was faster than the operations security he tried to put in place. Some of his brothers and sisters even went out of their way to question his leadership after such a crisis. He needed to show results but despite the threat of being removed from one of the highest echelons of Heaven’s military, sophisticated espionage and infiltration were necessary. His faith would be placed on Death’s shoulder for success.

A moment of his time had been away just as he was about to leave the building. One of his brothers accosted him. “Michael, please do not tell me that you would rely on Death as a solution. Are you mad?”

“His department is our best chance of finding the perpetrators,” The Archangel replied as he stopped to turn around towards his peer. An angelic blond male stood before him in a white suit and a red tie with a platoon’s worth of saved soldiers at his side - it was none other than Abbadon, “What you and the others are suggesting is absolute insanity.”

“It is necessary to remind Hell who rules the afterlife. That message alone will compel them to never attack us again.”

Michael approached his brother before stopping a few steps away from him. His hands rested in his pockets, to avoid clenching his fists in the open. “There is a difference between sending a message and escalating a ceasefire back into a conflict. Lucifer does not know what goes on in these halls and if he mistakes this as an act of war, there will be bloodshed between our realms.”

“You forget,” Abbadon replied, “We can end this affair once and for all. He doesn’t have the souls to wage the war. You’re the High Marshal, all it takes is your word and the rest of the council will agree with your efforts to deal with those responsible for the attack.”

“No. That is my thought on this matter. Our treaty with our fallen brother must be upheld. The saved see us as messengers of God’s word and if we break that agreement, what does that make us?”

He turned his back on him and proceeded towards the exit. Yet, his kin managed to remark on his behavior. “If you think that way, you will not be High Marshal for long.”

“I appreciate your concern.”

Chapter Text

Uhlman sat quietly in the briefing room as he waited for everyone inside the safe house to arrive. They needed to address a few problems that arose when it came to developing Artyom’s-no, Railtracer’s background. He pulled out his cigarette and brandished a lighter shaped in the form of a bullet. It could never match the ones he had when he was alive but it was close enough. His thumb flicked the top cover before spinning the sparker to ignite. The cigarette reached for the edge of the flame until he saw the burning embers. One good breath was taken as the orange butt was placed between his lips.

He took a moment to think while leaning back on the leather. Strange how he was given a mental picture of Heaven when he was alive. The man was not entirely religious but he had expected this particular realm of all that was good and holy to ban and discourage this behavior. Yet, when he arrived at the pearly gates, the fact that they were able to grasp nuance was a surprise in itself. Sure, they liked to talk about doing the right thing or discouraging any behavior that would incur the wrath of God himself but they were capable of understanding the parts that made humans… well, human. Maybe it took a while for the low-ranking members of Heaven to grasp the more serious topics of goodness and depravity but they were willing.

All it did was bring the thoughts of his superior as he took the cigarette out and his lips released the air in his lungs. Colonel Mel’nikov was a good man, maybe not the best of the Spartan Order - that belonged to Artyom, but he was a good man in the end. Uhlman’s soul felt a great regret in the end when he learned of the man’s death. He should have taken that chance to talk to them the moment someone in the department brought it up. Such a shame that the demands of his duty got the better of him now that he was permanently gone from existence.

The old soldier knew he couldn’t be like this forever. An opportunity at vengeance was all that mattered as he pulled himself forward and looked at the table full of documents and pictures. His workload had increased tenfold since Death had put more interest into the search for the blessed army-grade weaponry. He had hoped that resources and manpower - or soul power - could be allocated to their safehouse station but none turned up. Tony better show his face to check on their progress because if the department took this priority seriously over the normal objectives it takes to fix bureaucratic mistakes, it wouldn’t take less than a dozen to address a major issue in the Council Chambers.

A commotion erupted just outside the room as the only door swung open with Pavel entering the room with five others following him. Uhlman’s gaze fell upon them while they conversed about the sin of putting pineapple on pizza. It was an argument that was never going to be solved as they made their way to their seats and changed their expressions on the topic at hand. Yet, it was entertaining as this collection of dangerous individuals talked about something so mundane.

They stole a glimpse at the papers and photos laid out on the table before Pavel spoke his mind about the situation. “What exactly are we looking at? I thought we had already covered these issues before Artyom was planted at I.M.P. Did we do something wrong?”

“It’s not easy for me to say this, given the skill of everyone sitting in this room,” Uhlman began as everyone focused their full attention on him before he continued, “Unfortunately, it’s not enough. We need to fix this?”

He looked woman sitting on his right who had folded her arms. Her violet hair kept over to one side of her head while adjusting the straps of her sports bra. “Any specifics?”

“Thank you, Valerie, for allowing me to start somewhere. You and Niko managed to forward a payment for an impressive sports car. I don’t know how the hell he’s going to work when it looks like he earns more than his boss.”

Besides her was a man wearing a tracksuit, who had been inspecting the photos on the table before turning his sights on him. His accent originates from Serbia. “You told us to get a car that was fast and maneuverable. There was no mention of matching Blitzo’s job. If he’s going to work, can’t he use the public transportation?”

“That depends on the neighborhood he’s coming from,” He reasoned, “It’s hard to justify a car like that if his supposed house was anything like your Liberty City.”

“So what does his house look like? Maybe we can fix that?”

The man sitting beside Niko’s right was dressed in an older outfit, one that reflected on his time back in those wild days of America. His origins were perhaps the most interesting since he was involved being a survivor of Custer’s Last Stand; yet, his file remained classified when it came to the happenstance of him entering the afterlife. He scratched his freshly shaven stubbles and earned the attention of everyone at the table. “Ever since the latest purge, the housing prices have gotten out of control that I don’t think our budget could handle it. So I tried to look somewhere sensible but I don’t think anyone here is going to like it.”

“So what is that supposed to mean?” Wondered Niko as he turned his head to the fellow beside him, “It can’t be worse than what V and I did.”

“Before anyone does anything drastic… I got Artyom a spot at the hotel where Princess Charlotte is staying at.”

A redheaded woman sat across from him, wearing a black leather jacket among her dark clothes as she professionally maintained a discipline that Uhlman was all too familiar with. He only saw that in spies or cold-hearted bureaucrats but her organization was different from most. Her hair was tied neatly behind her head as she leaned forward in her chair. “Morris, you didn’t think of the consequence if you did this right now?”

“What was I supposed to do?” He answered as he rose from his seat, expressing his frustration to the entire room, “Wait until the prices go down. I can’t haggle for the life of me, honey!”

“If the princess of Hell finds even a hint of our operations at the Happy Hotel, Lucifer might get involved and everyone in this room knows what that means for us.”

Silence fell upon everyone before Morris spoke his thoughts while walking back and forth. “It’s called the Hazbin Hotel, Ms. Faden. If there is anything I’ve learned about that place, the princess is busy trying to refurbish the place after the purge and she’s attracted a few sinners, which makes her a bit hopeful. If we play our cards right, we can try to pretend that Artyom is another sinner looking for redemption and he wouldn’t look out of place so long as he acts like a sinner.”

“That is still a risk to it,” She countered before turning towards the head of the safe house, “Can anyone still add to this conversation of ours?”

Uhlman looked to his left to see the man sitting between Winter and Pavel drinking a cup of tea while looking over the documents throughout that conversation. The man was known as Strelok, a moniker he earned in the Chornobyl Exclusion Zone and he was a stalker just like him. What was strange about the man was that he could relate to him given the strangeness of their respective worlds in comparison to everyone else in this room. He liked to know enough details to make sure an operation would go well and he could see he was going to voice his opinion when Strelok stole a glance from him. “I’ve been trying to figure out what we can do about the connection between Blitzo and Prince Stolas. Right now, I’ve been getting nothing except for all the sex they can come up with in their bedroom. There are no snippets of information I can make out ever since Valerie hacked into their communications.”

“Nothing of importance?” The Russian asked the Ukrainian as he hoped something could be salvaged out of this mess, “No talks of seizing military-grade blessed weaponry?”

“If I could read someone’s mind, sure, but I don’t have anything on my end. Artyom has to do something unless…”

Why did he pause for a second? What reason did he have to do so? “Come on, speak up.”

“Well, if Artyom is at the Hazbin Hotel,” His expression changed at the sudden possibility that hadn’t come up before, “Maybe we can intercept communication chatter at the hotel. If Charlie is attracting all sorts of sinners to show up, who is to say that we won’t be able to find what we’re looking for?”

“That’s an opportunity I didn’t see coming. I suppose this briefing is not a total waste.”

Pavel had a bottle of vodka in his hand before he took one large swig and grabbed everyone’s attention with his drinking. “We still have a certain issue I need to bring up.”

“Which is?” Uhlman wondered, “What do you have to say?”

“Artyom needs to act like a shitbag. We got to remember, that he’s supposed to act like a sinner. You and I both know the man has a heart of gold.”

He chuckled at the opportunity to jab at him. “Well, why don’t you show him? You know a thing or two about that.”

“I’m serious, chuvak,” Pavel replied, “He needs to provide a convincing appearance other than our little bracelets.”

“I don’t think that’s ever going to be a problem. You and I both know of that cold ruthlessness he’s capable of. We should allow him to show off for a bit. Though, you should act the part of being his friend at a party. It would help him out greatly.”

Someone entered the room unannounced as the man arrived with a good mood behind him. “There’s the guys and gals. I’ve been looking for you. How’s the hunt for the weapon shipment?”

“Tony?” He immediately recognized him as he still maintained the appearance of a typical office worker at the cubical in a black tie and a white shirt, “What are you doing here?”

“Death said to check on you guys. It seems like everyone is working hard.”

Now was an opportunity. The safe house station needed all the help he could get. “It’s a good thing you’re here. We need a bigger budget and more manpower to help us with this particular objective.”

“Can’t you guys get it through the system?” He asked with genuine curiosity as his hands slipped into the slack’s pockets, “I’m just visiting.”

“I did but it seems like no one answered. We need that. Maybe bring the issue to Death?”

Tony nodded his head in confirmation. “No problem, I just so happen to be heading there after this visit.”

It was good news for once. Now their jobs would get easier by this point in time.

It took time for Artyom to adjust to his new life in Hell and more time at I.M.P. The arsenal room was a cluttered mess and he was so fortunate that he had a grace period to organize the weapon racks and shelves full of ammo boxes. At the same time, his soul was impressed by the number of hijinks his supposed colleagues were getting themselves into as that made his job as a Purgatory Investigator incredibly difficult. He could plant any listening devices if the televisions were being shot up or several members would get into intense arguments about who was fat. Then there was the fact that he couldn’t eat without someone accidentally eating his food at the fridge. What he would do if he had a few sticks of rats cooked by some Kazakhs?

The experience was not exactly terrible. He got to see first-hand the trio of imps making their trips to the mortal world with Loona’s expertise in the grimoire. She was the one who always had the book and no one else. Perhaps she knew how to use it in the best way that the others couldn’t. Stealing the book from under the nose would be too obvious; especially, when it was apparent that Hellhounds could track scents. The adopted daughter of the boss seemed to exude danger even at the most leisurely moments. He had to be careful around her.

The others were something else. Moxxie and Millie were a married couple from the ring of wrath and they seemed to enjoy killing together. It reminded the soldier of him and his wife back when he was among the living. An adorable relationship between the two and he didn’t know how the husband could tolerate Blitz’s incessant remarks; yet, he still observed that it seemed less like disrespect and more like friendly banter to pass the time.

They were a complete contrast to Blitz and his outbursts. The energy in the room changed based on the mood of his boss and it was difficult to gauge the imp’s background other than he liked the chaotic clusterfuck that was his company. He seemed to waste an entire budget, for the most part, on the most simple petty things he could afford. Then there was his relationship with a Hellborn nobility who permitted the usage of the grimoire to the company in exchange for sexual… engagement.

I.M.P’s arms repairman had to work with all of these factors in mind as he sat behind a workbench. He tinkered with a half-assembled Thompson sub-machine gun placed on a stand while he thought about obtaining his objective - finding the lost shipment of blessed weapons. Artyom had to plan this carefully and exploit an opportunity when it presented itself. If he was going to be fixing peoples’ weapons, maybe they might visit a supplier or a market if it's outside of his expertise.

He finished cleaning the remaining parts for the gun and began to slip each piece into place. The countless hours of oiling up barrels or cleaning out the dirt from the Volga and sands of the Caspian had paid off. It also helped that he had a user’s manual to ease the understanding of this gun and the others in the arsenal of I.M.P. It was good as new; unfortunately, the company didn’t have a range. He would have to ask Blitz about that particular problem or he could think outside the box - this was Hell and he’s supposed to act like a sinner.

The weapon was unmounted from the table as Artyom walked over to a nearby shelf and grabbed three large magazines before leaving the room for weapon testing. As he walked through the office, it was surprisingly quiet around this time. Perhaps the crew went out to get some food. The supposed sinner made sure to lock the keys to the company’s office and related rooms. He was surprised that the imp even trusted him with the second set of keys instead of Moxxie. Was Blitz that careless?

Silence followed him from the hallways to his ascent in the flight of stairs. His weapon and ammo bags jingled at the pace he was jogging at. When he got to the roof, the sky was filled with a red tint while a moon with a pentagram lorded over life beneath its light. He loaded the weapon while scanning his surroundings for a suitable target to test his weapon on. Then he saw from across an alleyway parking lot a broken-down billboard sign. Artyom knelt to a single knee and lined the sights to his target before waiting to stabilize his shots. Three breaths were taken before his finger rested on the trigger.

He fired.

Bursts of forty-five ACP rattled at that moment while shell casings were ejected out to the side. The bullets peppered the billboard with enough firepower that one could barely make out the original posters. The type of bullet was unimpressive that it seemed to do enough to perform but enough to deter Artyom from the five-point-four-five rounds of his trusty Kalashnikov. During one of the bursts, the gun stopped firing as smoke emanated from the barrel and the firing mechanisms were out of place. “The gun works but it still jams.”

“Hey, asshole!” A woman shouted from below. He looked over the edge to see a pink-skinned demon in a skimpy black-white dress stand beside a Hellhound, “You’re getting bullets all over my car!”

“Sorry!”

He had forgotten about the alleyway parking space below him. As he observed her, it turned out that her car just so happened to take over I.M.P’s parking space. More people stepped out of the car as they quickly sprayed paint over the marked area meant for their company vehicle. Perhaps the billboard was not the best idea and he should have constructed his own firing range in the armory. Well, he could experiment back in the arsenal room and see what he could do there.

The saved-in-disguise packed his belongings and made his way back towards his workspace. As he descended the flight of stairs, Artyom worked on fixing his sub-machine gun. What was the point of a rapid-fire sub-machine gun with a large magazine if the weapon was prone to jamming? Even the Bastard wasn’t this terrible and it was a Frankenstein of weapon.

Soon this sinner with a ghostly military appearance had returned to the hallway where I.M.P’s work was conducted. Upon unlocking the door, he quickly returned to the work table and placed the gun back where it was. He was about to detach the magazine and finally rectify the problem but then he heard a pair of footsteps enter the doorway behind him. His mind was unnerved by someone watching him and so he looked back, only to find the woman who yelled at him earlier.

She seemed beautiful in an unnatural alluring way. Just simply the way she rested her hands upon the hips contained a rather sexy posture. Then there were the high thighs and the high heels that gave a certain sex appeal that charmed even the saved soldier. A sultry voice soothed his ears “You’re the one who got bullets all over my car.”

“They’re shell-casings,” He corrected her while curious about what she was doing here. “You know that this floor is occupied by I.M.P, right?”

“You’re one of Blitzo’s employees? What are you doing here by your lonesome?”

He turned his body around to address her. “I fix weapons for my boss and the others.”

“Well, too bad,” She replied with a surprisingly evil smirk, “My friends and I are going to take this office to ourselves. It has a soundproof area that works great for our music. That and I want to rub it into Blitzy’s face when he gets here. Now scram while I’m being nice unless a sinner like you wants to join us.”

“I’m not going.”

She was taken aback by his response but he had a reason for that. Artyom was not going to let a random stranger undue all of his hard work at organizing the arsenal room from the clusterfuck he started with. That and also he needed to find a possible whereabouts of the blessed weaponry. Yet, the demon did not take his words well as she crossed her arms. “No, no, no - you don’t understand - I’m saying you have no choice in the matter. When I say I want you to leave, you leave.”

“Still not going,” He deadpanned as he leaned back against his work table as stole a glance at the organized room that made his life easier, “I just got this job and busted my ass trying to make this place look nice. Then you show up and decide that you own the place. No, you’re not undoing all of that.”

“Do you know who the fuck I am and what kind of people I run with? I’m not a succubus, I’m the bitch succubus.”

He chuckled at her statement as if that meant anything to him. “You think I should know you but I could care less. Now get out and let me work in peace.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” She asked of him before taking a few steps closer, her heart-shaped tail raised high, “Don’t make me send my hellhound on you! A sinner like you will get your ass beat.”

“This is my fucking place, cyka, you’ll have to pry it from my hands if you want to take all of this from me!”

Fury took over him as he looked underneath the table behind him and reached for an empty ammo can. To emphasize his point across, Artyom shot to put the container at the Hellborn but with no intention to harm her. Her eyes widened for a brief second before ducking her head as it flew past the doorway from whence she came. Neither were able to continue the conversation as a gunshot erupted from behind and the bullet ricocheted around the room.

The bouncing bullet was hard to keep track of before the succubus was knocked off her feet. He was horrified by what the jammed Thompson had done. His feet and hands were quicker than his thoughts as he ran over to his left to snatch a medkit placed on the wall before running over to the struck demon. “Goddamn misfire!

“The fuck?” The woman asked as she turned her head towards him, “Did you shoot me?”

“No, I got a gun that’s jammed and it unjammed a round at us.”

He unpacked the kit and began to work on stopping the blood loss. The most familiar thing he had to do was remove an orange covering for a needle so that the succubus wouldn’t be put in shock. Then he stabbed the needle to alleviate the pain.

Someone came running as Artyom looked up from the wounded demon to see a grey hellhound standing at the doorway. His expression revealed both shock and fury at a single moment. “What the fuck happened?!”

“Misfire from the gun behind me,” The supposed sinner replied, “Bullet struck your friend here.”

“Should we get her to a hospital? Verosika ain’t going to die, is she?”

He grabbed the young woman’s arm and saw a heart-shaped tattoo with Blitz’s name crossed out. She was his boss’s former lover. Well, it didn’t matter to him as he placed the dressing on the gunshot wound in quick succession. Then he looked toward the bodyguard the succubus had intended to use against him. “Alright, get her to the hospital as fast as you can.”

“Okay,” The hellhound realized as he turned his head out, “Get back in the car! Verosika needs to go to the hospital!”

“I’m sorry this happened.”

It was an apology that didn’t need to happen but the Russian felt a hint of guilt knowing it wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t load the gun. Meanwhile, the girl seemed to be mildly confused. On one hand, her face seemed angry but Artyom felt that something else was being repressed from being spoken. As the hellhound picked her up and carried her out of the room, a puddle of blood was all that remained where he squatted over.

“Blitz is going to ask questions.”

The changes to the hotel were already underway ever since Alastor had been brought to the hotel. Angel Dust had to admit that the strawberry pimp had a good taste for fashion and he was going to make the best out of what he offered. Everything seemed to improve, even if it was just Nifty cleaning the place up and making the rooms look neat.

Habits from his old life still seeped into Hell - being a gangster, a lover of his fellow men, or an Italian cook. His hands multi-tasked with the work he put into making a piece of his family’s recipe. One hand held his phone and scrolled through the missed calls and messages, a second hand was holding the handle and stirred through the pot of alfredo and noodles, and the last two were busy making sure the garlic bread was being prepared.

Two servants of the hotel - Razzle and Dazzle - had entered the kitchen with groceries in hand. Angel thanked the flying demonic goats before they departed from his side. If there was one way to describe his benefactor, Charlie knew how to keep sweet company. As he finished the garlic bread, he placed the tray in the oven and began to heat it. Everyone was going to enjoy what he had to offer.

He heard humming outside the door before he looked over his shoulder to see the charming blonde that managed to convince him to relax in her hotel of redemption. The princess of Hell and the daughter of lucifer smiled, her eyes widening and her nose catching the aroma. “What are you cooking? Italian?”

“Yeah, how can you tell?” He asked of her, curious about how she recognized the smell, “Had any before?”

“Mom and dad always liked to get Italian on their honeymoon. Dad said it was the food that inspires love.”

Angel Dust chuckled at that statement as his mood improved. “He’s not wrong. I’d be ashamed to call myself an Italian if I couldn’t cook like my mom or make love.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to put it like that,” The princess replied as she walked over to the pot to take one more fresh smell, “What’s this?”

“Chicken alfredo. Was always taught that to be a wise guy, there’s no better way to hatch a plan than doing it over a meal fit for twenty guys. Of all the things I will say, don’t tell Vags, my mother was such a saint when it came to food.”

She opened a drawer and brandished a silver spoon before he felt offended by what she intended to do. “What are you doing?!”

“Smells nice and I bet it will taste great,” Charlie explained hinting her silverware towards the pot, “Mind if I get a taste?”

“You’ll eat when I tell you it’s time to eat.”

Her expression changed as her eyes turned into that of an innocent cute puppy trying to grab his attention. “Can’t I just have one taste?”

“Don’t give me that look,” The truth was that she seemed to have her way with people in a good way. A lot better at convincing him than Valentino. Minutes passed before he succumbed to her charming looks, “Alright, you get one taste. Just one! Then you wait.”

“Thanks!”

The princess of Hell took her small portion and left his side before throwing the spoon into the sink. “What do you think?”

“I think Alastor will be jealous that he has some competition in the kitchen,” She eagerly replied before walking over to the refrigerator and grabbing a beer bottle. If this was to soothe his ego, well, it certainly was, “Maybe this will help you lose the occasional habit?”

“Ain’t going to happen sweet cheeks. I love my guns - one way or another.”

Charlie popped the bottle cap before taking a quick swig of her drink. “Well, I’ll be up in my room. Tell me when you’re done.”

“Sure thing, your highness,” She deserved to hear that at least. It might not make up for the day he should have gone to the studio but it was a start, “Don’t get drunk before dinner.”

Someone knocked on the door and caused the two to stop what they were doing. They turned their heads towards the kitchen door that led outside. Then someone’s voice called out to them. “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

“I’ll check it out,” The princess stated as she passed by and let the demonic spider continue to stir the part, “Who would knock on this door?”

Her hand reached out to the door handle and opened it wide to reveal a devilish blonde woman with pinkish skin. She adjusted her glasses as a faint smile was all she could offer. “Uh… hi?”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Mrs. Mayberry,” The sinner answered as she remained reluctant in the doorway, “I saw what happened on the television and I came to see if I could stay here.”

Angel turned his head towards the woman as he knew Charlie’s expression would be excited by this little experiment of hers. The royal of Hell was exacerbated by her arrival. “Wait, you want to come here? I convinced a sinner to be part of my hotel?”

“Well, it’s a bit more complicated than that. My apartment’s water pipes broke and I got nowhere to stay. Would you accept a homeless teacher into your hotel?”

“Oh, I thought this was a genuine request,” The disappointment was apparent to her as she stepped aside and gestured her hand out, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, here you can relax and wait as redemption comes to you.”

The Italian sinner raised his head back and laughed. “Hate to break it to you, darling, but none of us are getting a way out of this hellhole.”

“Angel, don’t scare off the new occupant. She just got here!”

Mayberry entered the kitchen with a smile on her face. “I don’t mind. Your friend here is perhaps better company than my husband.”

“He’s here too?” His head looked over to the sinner with horns. He had his reasons to be curious. “Perhaps I can give him a good time here?”

“I wouldn’t count on it. Gerald is usually going to annoy me with an occasional shooting.”

Now that got his attention. “Would he come to the hotel and shoot the shit? Now that is what I call a good time. We should hang out!”

“No, nobody is going to be shooting the shit at this hotel,” Charlie asserted her authority while stealing glances from the homosexual and the newcomer, “Nobody is stupid enough to attack my father’s property.”

“Aw, can’t I get a little bit of fun? It’s bad enough you discourage me from drugs and now this? Fine, I’ll play your little game. What a shame Mrs. Mayberry, we could have had a little bit of fun.”

The pink sinner looked around. “I hope it won’t be too bad for either of us. Let me get my stuff and settle down.”

Chapter Text

It was another day on the job with another paying client asking the crew to perform another murder on a human in the mortal realm. Moxxie knew the assassination could go horribly wrong and if this were a normal company, the planning would be thorough and punctual. The problem was that Blitz was neither of those descriptions. Instead, he gathered everyone to the meeting room and presented a drawing board to plan their next kill. The drawings were parodies of the human target and the entire crew killing him in a brutal and savage manner. No finesse, no precision - just plain brutality. Despite the petty and simple-minded person in charge, Moxxie had to admit that he was creative.

The first sensible question on his mind was the practicality of it all. “Sir, I doubt you’ll listen to me but is there a reason why we need to drop a piano on him?”

“Our client paid in advanced to kill him this way and I already took his cash,” The imp replied as walked back and forth across the meeting room. It appeared that he wanted to be taken seriously on this issue; yet, his attempts at being a professional came to a halt with a smile on his face, “He said that he used to own that piano and it would be poetic to kill the target before he attends the opera. Death by music and all.”

“Did you inquire about the client’s reasons for this?”

Blitz shook his head and shrugged his shoulders while waving his flintlock pistol around. “Who gives a shit? We’re just there to kill him.”

“Just how are we going to get the piano in place?” He wondered while leaning back in his comfortable chair, “It ain’t the easiest thing to move around.”

“Who says we’re moving one? No worries, I already got that covered. The target is in the middle of moving so we got to make this quick.”

Moxxie noticed his wife on his right adjust herself within the chair beside him. “I think we can pull it off, provided we don’t get spotted. What kind of human presence are we dealing with?”

“Aside from the target?” The boss cupped his chin and looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment, “Well, Millie, we do have a group of humans moving his furniture around so we might be forced to kill them while we set things up over there.”

“How about bait? Can we get Loona to distract the target before he goes off to the opera?”

The hellhound sat beside her adoptive father while her legs rested on the table as she scrolled through her phone, caught up in her own little world. Despite this appearance of disinterest, she was still capable of joining the conversation. “Can do but make sure the target likes girls? We all know what happened when we tried to kill that priest.”

“That one’s on me, Loony,” He apologized as the goth hellhound expressed her annoyance with that nickname, “If you can’t seduce him maybe stop him with small-talk like asking for directions or something like that.”

“Just make sure none of you fuck this up.”

Railtracer entered the room, much to the surprise of the crew. Ever since he had been hired, the sinner was more or less locked away repairing their weapons. Moxxie felt a tinge of guilt within his heart, knowing that every time he and the others abused their weapons, the man’s work would become ten times harder. Most importantly, he noticed the improvements when he made sure the weapons were maintained to the best of their quality.

A file of papers was in his hands with a large title of ‘Accounting’ written over it. “Uh, comrade-boss, I thought I might bring this up before you and the others head off.”

“What’s so important that you got to interrupt our meet?” He wondered as he tossed his pistol on top of the meeting table before the flintlock fired and the bullet found its mark somewhere in the room, “Also, what are you doing with my files?”

“Sorting them out. I took the initiative to reorganize the monthly budget. It’s primarily to reduce the unnecessary costs but to also set aside funds for whatever operations you need.”

The younger imp focused on Blitzo’s face enraged by the revelation. “You what? You’re just supposed to fix our guns not be our accountant!”

“I know, I know,” He replied as his hands gestured him to calm down, “Not my place to undermine your authority but it’s an excuse for me to surprise everyone with a gift.”

“Wait, what? You got a present for me?”

Railtracer nodded his head as he tossed the file on the table and reached behind his back to brandish several magazines. Then he brought out a rifle cartridge and slowly ejected them out of place. “Yes. I’ve managed to contact some comrades and made a request to showcase some special bullets to spice up the killings. These are inferno rounds, if you want something immolated in a few seconds you’ll never go wrong with them.”

“Really? All it does is light things on fire?” He approached the sinner before the sinner passed him the cartridges, “That’s all you could do?”

“Well, not exactly. I also did some research that the target’s home is in the middle of a heatwave and it wouldn’t be surprising if the rope holding the piano burst into flames.”

Blitz was not the type of person to take something like this laying down. Moxxie knew how bossy he could be but there were certain lines he wouldn’t cross lest the imp insulted him in front of his wife. What Railtracer did; however, was worse than that. It was not going to end well for the sinner if he didn’t know his place in the company.

The boss walked to the sinner and pressed his finger in the man’s chest. “I appreciate your help and all of that but next time, ask me what you’re going to do next time. Otherwise, you ain’t going to last long as Moxxie.”

“Ladna,” Acknowledged the Russian as he turned away from everyone in the group and walked back into the arms room. Then his phone rang before stealing a glance at the identification, “Chyort, I know what this is. May I take the rest of the day off?”

“Go ahead, you’ve been working overtime for the past few days. I don’t mind.”

Railtracer was quick to depart from the room as Blitz grabbed everyone’s attention on the assassination. Moxxie should have focused his attention on killing the target but a feeling in his gut made him uncertain about the company’s newest member. Whether it was intuition or fear, the young imp did his best to hide his thoughts on the matter.

The online computer meeting was dreadful. Tony sat behind his desk as the head of the Evidence Section presented the remains of the dead and pieces of broken APCs they had managed to inspect within the confines of their labs. It was still a lot to take in but unless they could speak with the fallen, there was little he could do with what they had. “Doctor McClintock, I appreciate your efforts but I don’t see what else we can gain from this. I thought this stuff was already dealt with.”

“That’s the official statement we gave to the gentlemen at the council,” Answered the Englishman as he walked over and appeared in view of the camera in a green biohazard suit, “Fortunately, we’re still finding out some things like some traces of classified materials embedded in some of the vehicles and corpses.”

“Classified materials? What exactly are we talking about?”

The specialist brandished a small and clear container holding a piece of metal inside. “This is what we got from the corpses. It seems that this material chipped off and embedded into the bodies thanks to our suspect’s willingness to fight in close quarters. Then in my attempt to track its origins, our database seems to have referenced a file about the Holy Army developing a new generation of experimental power armor for the Archangels.”

“How the hell were you able to access those files?!” The implication of the suspect’s origins was bad enough but Tony’s immediate concern was his counterpart’s ability to even read them, “You don’t have the clearance to view them in the first place.”

“You’re right, I don’t. However, there is a colleague of mine who works in those echelons. We talked for a bit and exchanged some gifts if you understand what I am talking about. To put this story short, it seems like this attack has spooked their ranks as much as it spooked us. So he was willing to look into it.”

The saved didn’t know what else to ask about his coworker but the situation changed with the knowledge that had been given. If this was from the Holy Army then it would be possible that someone within their ranks had acted out of line. He needed to report to Azreal. “Thanks for the meet. We’ll talk next time or you found a breakthrough for our investigation.”

“Likewise, sir.” The faceless doctor replied as he turned his head to his left and continued to speak, “Mary, how do you turn off this bloody thing?”

Tony ended the meeting with his mouse as he leaned back in his chair. He didn’t expect himself to find a complicated mess in the afterlife of all places. Still, so long as he kept his cool, the situation would overwhelm him like his time in the Mojave Wasteland.

Someone was seen outside his office as they stopped outside the door and knocked on the glass. He rose out from behind his desk to see a brunette in a black dress while her knuckles knocked against the glass. Then he gestured for her to come before the door handle creaked open and the Asian lady entered. “Sorry to bother you sir but there is a gentleman who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who exactly? You didn’t tell me his name.” He answered as he returned to his seat, “Is it urgent?”

“He says that he’s from the Holy Army and it looks like he had been in an accident but came here to speak with you. Should I let him in?”

Just for what reason did this soul need to talk to him? “Bring him to my office.”

She understood and left the room.

Minutes passed as he jumped out of his chair and carefully closed the blinds to his office one set at a time. He was fortunate that his room was sound proof but sometimes it was better not to have troubled eyes look at his reactions. As he finished setting the blinds for the door, his secretary returned with a man following her in a white uniform and a briefcase.

The white male was no doubt an officer based on the bars on his collar and his peaked cap. It looked like he was heading for a formal affair but seemed to have gotten his clothes dirtied along the way. His hair was unkempt and the lack of a breath mint was noticeable but Tony could worry about it later. “Step into my office. We’ll talk. Mrs. Lorenzo, I will take it from here.”

When she had departed from their company, Tony allowed him inside his office before stealing a glance at his surrounding coworkers in their cubicles. A minute passed before he slipped back inside and locked the door.

“Take a seat,” As the saved returned to his seat, the officer found an empty chair in the corner of the room, “So what can our overbudgeted brothers-in-arms can do for me?”

He had not spoken throughout the entire time until now. A thick German accent made his nationality known, “I heard about the incident with the convoy. I was the man who signed off on its departure.”

“Really? Now, what can you tell me about that.”

“At the time, it wasn’t exactly spectacular but the more I think about it the more weird things happened around me,” Answered the colonel in a rather timid tone, “I should have paid attention.”

The officer had really grabbed his attention. “Something spooked you?”

“We were given two conflicting schedules and my superiors were insistent on not letting the convoy depart; however, someone in high command had overridden us.” Answered the German as he placed his briefcase in his lap, “As soon as the convoy left, my executive officer and a dozen other men - including myself - filed a complaint demanding an investigation.”

“What happened?”

Tony noticed the man’s hand shaking in the darkness. “Several of my compatriots went missing for a time. A few days later, they were discovered dead in their offices when daylight came.”

“Shit,” He knew what this meant. Someone was killing the witnesses but much more, the soul had the gall to kill a saved in Heaven, “Why didn’t you come to us anytime sooner?”

“You’re the Department of Purgatory. We think you’re too soft on the sinners and demons of Hell. We are prideful men and women who do not share your views.”

This was a bad time to throw insults at each other. As much as the saved wanted to rebut his words, the importance of that convoy was paramount. “Your pride has its limits because you’re here.”

“Yes, and I am afraid this will be my only chance to catch those responsible.” He replied with fear in his voice, “I am the last person left, among the others, who haven’t been silenced. Someone from the higher echelons of command wanted us dead. Fortunately, they spurred me to hasten my resolve and assist in the department as much as possible.”

The German officer rose from his seat and approached him. He then placed the briefcase onto the desk as he straightened his back.

“This is my last act of vengeance.”

Curiosity got the better of him as the saved of the department began to click open the briefcase to find a collection of manila folders inside. “What’s this?”

“Evidence for your investigation. As a supply officer, I keep track of arms shipments and the finances behind them,” He explained as he began to look through the files. Then he presented a sheet full of grids, numbers, and labels. Soon the colonel pointed at an account that was highlighted in yellow marker, “Service Battalion three-two-two has a budget that is three-hundred percent over an average service battalion. That might be worth taking a look into it but that is not all. I took a look into the records of Convoy one-nine-six and discovered that it relates to my scheduling problems just before it left and got attacked.”

“So let me grasp the situation - this service battalion and that convoy are related? Am I capable of finding that weapon shipment?”

He nodded his head in response. “All of our convoys have a manifest in them and should you find what you’re looking for, it should be there. It would also have information on which service battalion it was meant to be sent to and who exactly requested it.”

“One-nine-six, I got that,” Now he was going somewhere after the investigation had stalled and this officer proved to be invaluable in helping him, “Why don’t you stay here? We can protect you while you assist with this. Are you able?”

“The unfortunate truth is that I have a scheduled appointment tomorrow. I know that the moment I leave the safety of your building, my pursuers will not hesitate. Besides, everything you need is in that suitcase. This is where we part ways.”

Tony watched helplessly as the would-be victim turned away and adjusted his officer cap. Then he left the room with little announcement. He was watching a man greet his doom with open arms - a quality few people in Heaven and Hell possessed.

The Radio Demon enjoyed his new position at the newly named Hazbin Hotel with glee on his face and terror in his heart. He was surprised that even the princess of Hell and the daughter of Lucifer were so trusting of him to be accepted as another poor sinner waiting to be redeemed by the angels of Heaven. Alastor scoffed at the notion that Charlie could even try to earn the attention of the powers above. Yet, there was a satisfaction to be had when he could watch the most gullible people of Hell have their hopes ripped out from their hands.

His stay resided in - unsurprisingly - the radio room, where he could listen to the wave frequencies across Hell with impunity. The lives of all those who were under his influence as the tendrils of control took over every radio and microphone that existed throughout the hotel. No one was safe, not even the princess. Despite his efforts, there was only one room that remained uncorrupted by his touch and its defiance demanded his full attention.

Being an overlord had its consequences. Everyone feared you and would pay their respects but should they refuse to acknowledge that power, it would be a grave mistake for your typical sinner. Somehow, Alastor’s tendrils finally encountered some resistance ever since that duel against Vox. Was this some kind of defense mechanism against someone like him? If that was the case, it was a poor form of security given how easily he was able to corrupt everything else. It wouldn’t take long if he overpowered this piece of technology.

A brief moment of white light flickered in his eyes and the Radio Demon somehow felt a strange sensation of pure… goodness. He did not know why but what made this speaker so different from the rest? Then his ears heard cries of laughter and birds singing in the air where innocence was supreme. It was alluring until that experience was removed in a blink of an eye before a massive explosion erupted in his room.

He was thrown back from his chair where he once sat as the radio set provided by the hotel’s ‘staff’ had been nothing but wreckage and the glass windows were shattered. His tendrils were retracted from the various communication equipment on his desk as Alastor regained his senses and felt unsure about what had happened. What could possibly overpower him in such a manner like that? More importantly, who was capable of that?

A pair of footsteps approached his room before the door was kicked open by a grey-skinned moth in black and red clothes. “Alastor, what the Hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” He meekly answered, unwilling to reveal his true reaction to the moment as he turned to his right to find the Hispanic standing in the doorway with hands on her hips, “You should get better radio equipment.”

“Those radios have been with us since the hotel was handed to Charlie. It’s not our fault that you decided to play with them and turn them into a bomb.”

One could obviously see why Charlie loved her. There was a charming ferocity that could be appreciated but the sinner viewed that as an annoyance. “Perhaps I misunderstood the technology in this room but is a shame that I was not able to make a new PA speaker out of it.”

“If you need a PA speaker, tell Charlie and me about it,” She replied, “We can afford it.”

“It won’t happen again, my dear Vagatha.”

She departed from the room with her head turned back but Vaggie managed to get the last word. “I’ll tell the others it was an accident.”

Yes… an accident. Yet, the Radio Demon didn’t know whether it was truly an accident or not.

The halls of the palace grew busy and were teeming with nobles and minor monarchs from all across this dark realm. Such a gathering of individuals - both important and irrelevant - was a rare occurrence if one paid attention to the politics of Hell. It was a byproduct of a time when Lucifer and his followers retreated to this place after signing their non-aggression pact with a delegate and sword of God - Archangel Michael. Even after all of these ages, the great fallen one could still remember the moment he signed that paper in ink.

He sat quietly on his throne and watched his subordinates busy themselves with the politicking and backroom agreements. Yet, it was necessary for his kingdom to maintain its order and control across the reaches and levels of Hell. Each was so eager to rise above their station while leaving their competition below them - or worse - at their command. Fortunately for them, he did not care about the means they would take to be in a position of power so long as they recognized he was their ruler above all else.

This commemoration always took place in the aftermath of the yearly invasion of Heaven and the extermination of sinful souls. It was perhaps a poor example to celebrate at the aftermath and expense of the former mortals and their woeful existence but their petty squabbles at the street level would always override their concerns as a society. Then again, the most powerful ruler had to remember that he wasn’t given the best of humanity.

Lucifer saw his wife conversing with her handmaidens and relatives so publicly. The fine and lithe figure could still be identified even surrounded by a sea of people. However, she was always in good hands when among her kin. It could not be said to him as an occasional noble would always try their hand to approach his throne and try to invite him over to join their clique to gain some form of legitimacy or political recognition over their peers. He wouldn’t complain as there were others who could charm him enough to be worthy of that attention but it was annoyance throughout the majority of these celebrations.

A thought entered his mind as it give the king some measure of comfort. At least, Charlotte didn’t have to deal with this nonsense. Even if he found her naive idea of a sinner’s redemption disagreeable, he loved her enough not to let her suffer a mere minute of this party.

Soon a tall and mighty arrival made his way towards him while shapeshifting into his preferred form. The head of the Goetia had revealed himself among the rest of the partygoers - seldom did he leave his own estate save for a few occasions.  When he settled into a form that almost resembled a bird, his great height would tower over others and give an imposing presence throughout the room. Despite this, the minor king bowed before Lucifer’s throne with elegance. “Your majesty, long have we waited to see you once more. How do you feel this day?”

“Pleasant, Paimon.” He hated flattery but the facade made all of this high-class society more tolerable, “How fares your legion of children?”

“Impeccable sire. Nothing is ever more desirable than displaying the potency of one’s seed. Apart from my son, Stolas, all is well in my house.”

The Goetia was very prideful in his position but Lucifer did not mind that arrogance. So long as he knew his place, everything would be fine. Now that Paimon was in front of him, it was time to speak about the rumors of his son, one who more or less defied the conventions set upon by his father. If he was to play the court’s games, information was key and his agents throughout the rings of Hell always collected. “Speaking of Stolas, are the rumors about his marriage true? That his wife is constantly at odds with him.”

“Unfortunately, yes. I expected him to handle his marriage better but he did perform his duty,” His attitude changed into one of fearful respect. Who could blame him? After all, he grasped the ruler’s reach beyond the halls of this palace. Then a scowl was expressed on his despite maintaining his regal stance before the throne, “It is unfortunate when your child disappoints you as a father. You do everything in your power to bring them up but as they grow older, they act against your wishes. I am sure that you would understand given how Charlotte disgraces herself before the public.”

“It is not the same.”

Soon the demon noble raised an eyebrow as the fallen archangel rose from his seat and stepped forward with a cane in hand. That one comment was enough to spur his blood. “Surely, sire you would agree that your daughter is not fulfilling her obligations to you.”

“No, you are gravely mistaken. Charlotte disagrees with me on a philosophical level but I can still be proud of her resolve despite public disapproval.” He stopped before the Goetia, whose form towered before him. Then he pointed his cane to Paimon’s chest, “Your son acts the way he is because of your insufferable behavior as a father. Be grateful that Lilith is present at this party as the venom of my voice would do more harm than any blade by my guards.”

“I apologize for my transgressions.”

Lucifer gestured for him to leave his presence as the Goetia demon left his side. Then he stood tall while his hand rested against his cane. As he looked around, he noticed a crow fluttering past the windows. Minutes passed as the ruler of Hell felt like he recognized the creature and so he departed from the room with uneventful curiosity as servants walked past him with food and drink through the hallways.

Those unfamiliar with his palace would be lost in the massive expanse. Yet, its shortcuts were apparent whenever Lilith and he needed to… relax. As he cut through the servant halls and passageways, his feet made their way into a beautiful garden that had been curated by his wife over time. Stone statues were placed near the sidewalks - gifts by skilled sinners - to freshly cut hedges that made up this hidden garden. What was truly tragic about this place is that no amount of beauty and artwork placed in this courtyard would ever match the garden of Eden.

In the center of the courtyard was a massive fountain, which had been showered in yellow by the lamplights. Soon the crow arrived and circled around him, fluttering its wings before descending into the concrete ground. A black spot was all that remained before a figure rose from the depths of darkness. Its shadow defied the shining of the light as a figure clad in black robes stood in front of him.

His brother made quite an entrance. “Azrael, what are you doing here?”

“Has Michael already told you what is going on in Heaven?” His voice scratched as the grim reaper’s face remained hidden underneath his hood while a skeletal hand brandished a scythe, “I wouldn’t have come here if it is not important.”

“It was brief but yes. He has told me that there has been an attack. I didn’t order it.”

The hooded figure nodded his head. “I believe you.”

“Now you trust me despite our past actions,” Lucifer replied as old grievances surfaced, “My wife and I kept our word, and yet you have the gall to come down to my palace unannounced for a party meant to defy father’s rule? What is so important that would have me come here?”

“Someone from Heaven’s ranks may have organized an inside job to garner support for an invasion of Hell. We do not know who but we are absolutely certain that our ranks are itching to break the agreement signed by Heaven and Hell.”

This was a bomb that fell into his lap as the fallen archangel’s attitude changed and searched for possible suspects. “Who is it? Michael?”

“He’s a possible suspect but I am not certain,” Azrael shook his hood as he rested the shaft of his scythe on his shoulder and brandished a white bag from his cloak, “Do you want some?”

“What are you offering me?”

Skeletal bones rattled underneath the hood as if it was to mimic his laughter. “Donuts. Worry not, I am not trying to poison you. It’s just that being Death and the head of Purgatory causes so much stress that I take pleasure in food.”

“I would have been skeptical if someone else was here,” Of all of the archangels that Lucifer fought against, Death was one he genuinely respected, “What kind of donuts?”

“Strawberry sprinkles.”

Two archangels from two different kingdoms ate their treats among themselves. Any Heaven-born or Hellborn would have found the moment awkward but Lucifer did not care about another’s opinion. At that moment, it almost felt like he was hanging out with one of his brothers in a time before he met Lilith.

Once they finished the last donut, Azrael broke the silence between them. “This might be a surprise to you but I have agents in Hell.”

“You what? How long have they been here?” He demanded from his brother, “Here I thought you genuinely care about reconnecting with me.”

“I want to but the council has been pressing down my neck that I feel it is necessary to divulge this information, lest our treaty breaks.”

Lucifer folded his arms as anger stirred in his heart. “Speak, then.”

“One of our agents is going to stay at Charlie’s hotel,” Came the reply as Azrael took a seat on a stone bench, “He’s going to find a shipment of Heaven weaponry that might be located in Hell. Unfortunately, said agent is also a Redeemed so I don’t want it to seem that I am trying to back your daughter if you did discover that.”

“Do you know how much you have angered me?”

Death looked at the ground. “It was either I beg for forgiveness or ask for permission. The former seemed probable.”

“Even when I have left his grace you and the others won’t leave me alone,” He stated as the fury of the past and his current wrath seemed to culminate, “Why shouldn’t I strike you down?”

“We’re still brothers despite all that has happened. I know you hate us for what we did but I am trying to help you. It is not so easy for me to do what I must while also making sure that your kingdom remains yours.”

Lucifer heard several doors behind him shutter. “Someone is coming, you must leave. I’m in a middle of a party that is celebrating my defiance against Heaven.”

“Worry not, it won’t take much.” Azrael answered as he reached for his scythe and tapped the ground, “Farewell, brother. I hope we meet in a better situation.”

A bright flash appeared and as the fallen archangel blinked, his brother was gone.

Lilith’s voice called out to him. “Dear, what has drawn you away from the party? Our guests have noticed your disappearance.”

“It’s nothing,” He answered as turned around to see his wife approach him. A good excuse was necessary to hide what had just transpired, “I just needed some time with my thoughts.”

“There’s something wrong that you are not telling me.”

How could she tell? “What makes you think that?”

“Your face says otherwise,” She answered plainly before grabbing his hand and pulling him close, “Is the party too much for you?”

“No, it’s not that.”

He looked up at the sky to see the white dot past the pentagram moon. 

“Just some old business I need to take care of.”

Chapter Text

The train was almost empty but two sinners were present as they waited to reach their destination. They sat across from each other in complete silence while the roaring of rails went past them. This moment was never meant to happen; however, Uhlman’s faith in his companions had created mistakes in the plan to fulfill their goal. Now they were paying for it by sending one of their own to the Hazbin Hotel.

Artyom stared at the man who broke his trust when they were both alive. Right now, his blood boiled and wanted to slay him on the spot for his sins. Countless lives did not need to suffer because of his petty loyalties. The Russian repressed his feelings on the matter for the sake of practicality but also to avoid being a hypocrite. After all, the hand of judgment had passed and seen fit to grant the traitor of their friendship a place in Heaven.

Pavel was on his phone and in his robotic disguise as a metallic thumb scrolled through the device. It would seem that he did not want a conversation with him but the facade was apparent whenever he twitched in his seat and his eyes stole a glance from him. Their past contained much-unresolved tension, enough for the former communist to speak his mind. “I can’t mind my own business if you’re staring at me, chuvak.”

“How the Hell did you end up in Heaven?” He asked. It was a genuine curiosity that perplexed him the moment they met at the safe house, “It did not seem like you would find a place there.”

“Lower your voice. Remember where we are. They don’t know that.”

He leaned forward in his seat and eyed the man with suspicion but heeded his words. “Are you going to tell me?”

“A lot happened in the Red Line after the attack on D6.” His voice was saddened by the past while his gaze fell upon the floor, “Things kinda went to Hell when General Korbut died and I was being shifted from one command to the next. Then came the Nazis and their offensive - my duty was to help in the evacuation of the civilians but they constantly raided the platforms to gun us down. One of those days, I died in the arms of my comrades as we left a station behind.”

“That’s quite a noble death, even for you. It’s a lot better than mine in some regards.”

He did not expect to hear Pavel’s story turn out that way but Artyom was at peace with it somehow. Even if he was betrayed by him, this revelation more or less redeemed the communist in his eyes.

“I suppose it will soften my view of you.”

A chuckle was all he could muster as he leaned back in his seat. “Would you still forgive me? I may be a heartless bastard but betraying you did more harm to my soul than you would realize.”

“It’s not as easy as you would think,” Came his answer as his reasoning was much more complicated than that. It was a lot harder to reconcile than it seemed. With the Dark Ones, it was merely their physiology that made it difficult to communicate with humans. However, Pavel was a different matter entirely since he made the conscious decision to go against him. “I had trusted you. We bled together and somehow you thought it was worth sacrificing my trust.”

“There’s a reason why I asked you to join us back then. You are and still are a good man. That is a quality rarely seen among our people but perhaps that was a good thing you didn’t take up my offer. My ilk had fallen so hard that asking you to take a place in our ranks would diminish your character. For that… I truly want to say that I am sorry.”

He could hear the honesty in his tone and it was now that the heartfelt apology was genuine. In another place and time, he would gladly shoot Pavel on the spot but the places and the times changed. No longer was he living in post-apocalypse Russia. Then he thought about himself, the same justification to kill the communist sitting before him was the same logic that made him slay angels that fateful day. “I accept and hold no grievance against you.”

“Thank you,” The man’s expression seemed relieved by those words as a warm smile improved the mood, “Can we still be comrades… friends, again?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

The train began to decelerate and ceased to a halt as their destination was close. Then a female voice announced their arrival through the speakers. “Platform has been reached. Five minutes until departure.”

“It’s time to see what my new home looks like,” Stated Artyom as he rose from his seat and gave out his hand, “See you later.”

His counterpart stood up and shook his hand as the conversation shifted to a different topic. “Make sure you keep up this facade, comrade. You’re living under the roof of the princess of Hell. There is nothing wrong with being too careful.”

“Understood.”

Pavel remained on the train as he walked out the doors. Artyom turned around and quietly looked back at his teammate. No further did they exchange any words, only a mere nod of the head to say farewell. Then the doors began to close as the two saved souls moved on with their lives and the burdens of life being lifted off their hearts.

Driving through the streets of Heaven was quite a breeze. Hard for people to get in the way of the law-enforcing souls of society when the sirens are spurred into action. The revving of the engine brought fury to the car’s exhaust, allowing the vehicle to rush past intersections and sidewalks with great haste. City lights reflected off Tony’s windshield as he mused himself about his destination.

He had just received a call about a murder that seemed related to the ongoing investigation of the missing weapons. It had to be important as he had spent the past few nights trying to piece together the evidence of the files that one officer gave to him. As much as he wanted peace to concentrate, the Angel of Death had given him several duties to perform in his station. This was just another day at work, hopefully.

The man turned around the corner and found a hotel where several cars from Purgatory were parked outside of an entrance of a hotel. Employees from the department were present, keeping the crowd of civilians and news reporters from entering. As he arrived on the scene and slowed his car to a halt, one of the reporters turned around and approached his vehicle.

Tony stepped out of the car and walked over to the entrance; however, he was beset on all sides by reporters asking him questions about the murder scene. Despite their insistence, he resisted the urge to tell them the truth before the men and women of the department accosted his pursuers.

Inside the lobby was just as busy as outside. Teams of investigators and evidence collectors entered or left the elevators. Yet, they were not the only ones present as a member of the hotel staff was talking with the investigators on the far side of the room. Their conversation was enough to incite his attention as he walked past his peers and greeted those he passed.

When he arrived, the investigators nodded their heads in their direction and departed as the brown-haired woman in a blue shirt turned to him. “Are you here for the bodies?”

“Yes, it’s related to some of my work but I came here as soon as possible,” He answered as his hands rested in the pockets of his jacket, “When did you find them?”

“About an hour ago. One of the maids was cleaning up when she arrived on the fifth floor and found the hallway look like a war zone. I told her to lock the entire level and I called your department to look into it. I did everything I could to keep things quiet but somehow it spilled to the news outlets.”

He hated when the reporters were doing everything they could to get their hands on the scoop. It always meant that someone with enough media power could start questioning and insinuating the purpose of his organization. Tony had to keep his investigations to his chest if he wanted to ensure their success. “You did what you could but we’ll take it from here. Just assure the other guests that they do not interrupt the crime scene.”

“I understand,” She genuinely answered, “If your people need any refreshments our cafe is open 24/7.”

“Appreciate it.”

Tony looked over his shoulder to see another elevator open with several investigators walking out. He quickly made his way inside and pressed the button before he slowly ascended to the crime scene. Silence overtook him as he pondered about the perpetrators. Of all the places they would kill him at, why would it be a hotel? It’s a public location that attracted relatively wealthy guests; yet, what was the motive? Did they not have a quiet place to kill or were they that desperate?

A bell rang as the doors opened. He stepped into the hallway and took a moment to bear his surroundings; however, the woman’s description was not enough to convey the scene. Carnage was all he could see as the walls were wrecked in bullet holes and blood. Several dozens of bodies were strewn across the floor, staining the carpet. It was rather difficult for him to make a step without ruining the scene with his shoes.

Investigators in biohazard suits had carefully inspected the scenery as Tony looked to his right to see a ruined room door. It was here that he realized that this hallway had been turned into a kill zone before the fighting finished. One of the men in the hallway noted his presence and pointed toward the room where the gunfire supposedly came from. “Sharpe and his team are taking a look at the victim’s bedroom.”

“Thank you,” He answered before carefully proceeding to the real source of this bloodshed, “It’s a good thing I didn’t eat earlier.”

When he reached the doorway, a man in a Napoleonic-era uniform squatted over a corpse on the opposite side of the room. His hand grasped his chin while staring at the body in silence while other investigators inspected the room. What was truly surprising about this scenery was a massive heavy machine gun placed behind the bed where the body was.

“Sharpe?”

The red-haired man rose and turned to face him while his hands reached for his pockets. “So they sent you. I didn’t expect this to earn the attention of the higher-ups.”

“Unfortunately, this relates to my case,” Tony answered as he walked to the opposite side of the room to find a man in the uniform of Heaven’s army lying lifeless. He recognized the man’s face, the officer who had visited him with the briefcase of evidence, “It looks like someone tried to silence him and succeeded.”

“Aye, but he took some bastards with him. Now that’s soldiering. How did you know him?”

The confidentiality of his investigation was necessary and he couldn’t tell anyone the truth. “He willingly came out to become our informant; however, his pursuers knew he would. Said it was his last act of vengeance before they came for him.”

“Is it helping?” Sharpe asked as he looked at the machine gun that was placed perfectly to look at the hallway, “Seems an awful lot for a misplaced sinner and above my paygrade if you ask me.”

“He gave us some progress, I’ll state that. Do we have an identification on the bodies?”

The investigator shook his head as he stepped around the body and stood across from Tony. “On their person? I wish. We’re sending fingerprints to Doctor McClintock and our database should have them but it will take time.”

“Good, this might be their great mistake.” He replied while gazing upon the victim one more time, “We’ll get them.”

Money was never a problem for the Princess of Hell and thus she could afford the renovations to her hotel ever since Alastor arrived. The only practical limit was the number of hands working for her and the willingness of sinners who wanted to be redeemed. Vaggie and her servants were essentially the only people who helped her manage since she left the palace. Then there was the number of interviews with sinners on the street that needed a bit of convincing; yet, it took a serious amount of effort to get their first ‘guest’ to help in this quest for redemption. That changed when their limousine stopped scouting for scattered souls and enticed a homosexual porn star with a bit of hard cash to help in her efforts.

Angel Dust seemed like a perfect candidate and all that Charlotte Magne Morningstar could do was shape him up for the interview with the Channel 666 News Network . Get him to avoid clashes with their fellow sinners or the average Hellborn and encourage the spider to engage in more noble acts of goodness on behalf of their everlasting soul. Unfortunately, the plan did not go as intended and Angel missed the interview, only to showcase his mobster roots before the camera. Perhaps she was too optimistic about reforming his behavior this early in the process but the princess was able to adjust.

The heiress to the dark kingdom decided the best way to start a change in the appearance of the hotel was to make sure that the rooms looked nicer. Alastor’s introduction of Nifty has done wonders for the building’s cleanliness but now the changes had to come in something more sophisticated than cleaning off the dust. Charlie walked into the living room with Angel Dust and Husker carrying a newly-bought flat-screen tv. She looked over her shoulder to see that the former was not pleased with moving anything around but this was a good start to making up for his mistakes. The latter was disinterested in doing anything not involved with gambling and drinking alcohol.

“Put it on the stand. We’ll figure out the wires after dinner.” She said as the sinners carefully placed the flatscreen in position. Once it stabilized, the two departed from the living room and made their way toward their respective rooms. So long as they didn’t do anything to burn down the building or cause everyone trouble, the princess wouldn’t pry into their closeted affairs.

A red and yellow blur ran past her as a small bug-like person performed her daily dusting. Nifty was always good with that but how she could be cheerful at cleaning up for so long was its form of disturbing thoughts. At least with Alastor, his form of sadistic insanity was understandable. Nonetheless, it helped the hotel look much better since the day of the Purge.

Charlie was about to make her way towards the more refined areas of the hotel but soon she heard the front door knocking. She could see the vague figure through the painted glass as their tall shadow towered over and crept into the main hallway. It was brief but the princess felt a chill on the back of her spine, even the Radio Demon didn’t leave that kind of impression on her when he arrived. Her reaction to him was out of surprise that someone even came to him but this was completely different. She was genuinely scared of the stranger outside her door.

Her eyes trailed to the building’s belongings placed on the side of the hallway. Her girlfriend’s angelic spear was placed against the wall so it would become her weapon in case the outcome turned for the worst. With the polearm in hand, she cautiously walked over to the doorknob and anticipated the stranger’s arrival with caution. The only form of courage in her heart was the lessons that her father taught about standing up and taking charge.

When cold brass touched the fingertips, a semblance of resolve took over, allowing the heiress to turn the mechanisms and encounter the person face-to-face. This sinner came in the form of a soldier with a uniform meant to camouflage with a lush green environment; however, it now contrasted against the crimson red that dominated this dark realm. His body was covered by a wreath encased in pitch darkness. A helmet was strapped to his head while his face was locked away behind a gas mask, where only the eye sockets revealed a hint of blue flame within.

She tightened the grip on her weapon as she greeted him with reluctance. “Hello there.”

The stranger raised his head and slowly brought out his hand from his side to wave at her. His foreign accent caught her off-guard. “Are you miss Morningstar?”

“Yes, could I help you with something?”

He nodded his head. “I saw your interview with that news channel. Is it true that you have a hotel meant for redemption?”

Charlie’s head perked up and felt touched that somehow that disaster still managed to attract people for redemption. Her stomach was filled with butterflies as the mood shifted thanks to that simple musing. “Are you interested in joining my attempt to redeem sinners?”

“Yes.”

“Then I welcome you to the Hazbin Hotel ,” She eagerly greeted as her shoulders relaxed from the tense anticipation earlier, “Come inside so I can get you acquainted with the rooms and staff.”

The princess stepped aside and gestured for the stranger to enter. After he walked in, she immediately closed the door and placed her blessed spear in the corner with a collection of umbrellas. Then rapidly walked ahead of the man to lead him into the first room.

“Here at this hotel, my sole purpose is to make sure that this place is comfortable to sinners as much as possible. I want to do away with the formal lobby where you’ll be brought to a check-in desk. Instead, this building is supposed to be an isle of peace for every single person who stays here.”

He let out a slight chuckle. What caused him to come to that reaction? Is this his way to mock her? She would receive her answer when he voiced his thoughts, muffled under his gas mask. “It is funny that you should mention the hotel experience since I don’t have a clue about what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve never been to a hotel?” Asked the heiress, curious about what he meant by that. “Do you care to explain?”

“I am a post-apocalypse survivor. The only hotels were abandoned ones filled with supplies.”

So he was one of those sinners. Most of them and the overlords were typically from a mortal world that wasn’t caused by an apocalyptic event that destroyed most, if not all, of society. Not common to find in Hell but his stay would be another nice addition to her colorful personality.

“What’s with the furniture?”

Her attention shifted away from him as she looked ahead to find the flatscreen and its stand shifted from its original position with Nifty nowhere to be seen. She was going to have a talk with her about making sure the furniture goes back in her quest to cleanse the building of its filth. “I am making some renovations and moving stuff around. The latest purge made a mess with the whole building.”

“Ah, I understand,” He acknowledge while slipping his hands reached for his pockets, “If I am going to stay here, is it possible for me to bring my work home?”

“What do you do for a living?”

He shifted his body to confront her about the matter. “I work for the Immediate Murder Professionals by fixing their weapons.”

“Wait, you work for the Hellborn who kill people in the mortal plane?” The princess was taken aback by that piece of information. She had seen their commercial on television now and then. Thanks to their poor position in Hell’s social structure, it was difficult for their kind to make any decent money for themselves. Charlie always thought it was another desperate attempt to get rich but didn’t think much of it. “They’re an actual business? I just thought it was an elaborate scam.”

“So did I before I did a bit of research and checked them.”

Footsteps clicked against the floorboards as Charlie turned to her left to see the other latest guest exit a room and joined theirs. The sinner with horns had her eyes focused on an assortment of papers placed in a manila folder, not keeping with her surroundings, and her blonde hair was slightly disheveled. “Mrs. Morningstar, I sorted out those legal documents you had earlier. Thought it would be-oh. Railtracer, what are you doing here?”

“Do you two know each other?” She wondered as the man turned around to see the woman in the glasses, “He just came in and I was introducing him around the place.”

“We’ve met once in a park but that’s it.”

Railtracer spoke up as if he was relieved to see Mrs. Mayberry. “Some imp stole her purse. I brought it back.”

“Are you here to stay at the hotel as well?” Questioned the teacher as she closed the folder and placed it at the side of her white shirt, “Is it personal?”

“Slightly. Had some renting issues and this seemed like the best place.”

The meeting was far more fruitful than she imagined. Even though these two were mere acquaintances, the princess seemed to have thought of a far more interesting idea of inviting people to come. She could always try to advertise the hotel as usual but also use word-of-mouth to entice a few people here and there to try her idea. Being the daughter of Lucifer had its perks since she had all the money in the dark kingdom to make those kinds of experiments.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Railtracer called her. “Ma’am, is there something on your mind?”

“Sorry,” She apologized with a smile on her face, “Something came into mind and I forgot I was supposed to introduce you to every part of the hotel.”

Then Mrs. Mayberry voiced her opinion. “No offense, your highness, but let me introduce the Russian around. It seems like you have something on your mind.”

“It’s fine.”

“How about this?” She stole a glance at her wristwatch before focusing her gaze upon the princess, “I’ll introduce Railtracer around the rooms and you could introduce him to the staff. That okay?”

Charlie had to admit that this woman was surprisingly helpful despite her placement in Hell. “Go ahead. We’ll meet again around lunch.”

No orders were issued for the rest of the day but Pavel knew that Uhlman had something planned for the future. Sooner or later he would receive a call that they had a mission to conduct for that special assignment they were tasked with. It wasn’t if the Department of Purgatory could find their targets, only how long it would take before they did find them. Still, it meant that he had some downtime for himself.

The former communist officer strolled through a massive mall with multiple levels filled with hundreds of stores. Anyone unprepared to travel could find themself lost in this vast expanse of greed, gluttony, and lust. Much worse were the egregious prices of some of the products and services being offered to a curious customer. Either one had to be desperate to make such a purchase or lavishly rich to not even worry about the price tags.

Pavel and his crew had a budget assigned to their safehouse that could deal with Hell’s disaster of an economy but everyone had to be frugal with their spending. Spending it all in one sitting would be counterproductive in their operations; much worse, the experience of having to make special deliveries from Heaven via Isra would suck the life out of an investigator. After all, pizza topped with Hell hog meat was a rare delicacy among those in the department.

He made his way into the food court with hundreds of sinners and Hellborn alike attending the dozens of brands that were present. All had their tempting meals that could fatten someone for the rest of the year. His stomach growled as he walked past the lines from one counter to the next with the hope of settling on a peculiar taste.

The Russian paid so much attention to the menus that he failed to see what lay in front when someone yelled in surprise. Taken aback by his inattentiveness, the pretending sinner looked in front to find a succubus sitting on her knees. Clothes had been scattered and the young lady immediately reached for every fallen dress and jewelry to be placed back into their bags. Yet, the brunette was easily recognized by the secret saved the moment he took a knee to help her out.

She expressed annoyance at the moment while flipping her hair over the shoulders and revealing black crosses hanging upside down from the ears. “Watch where you’re going, pal!”

“Kiki?” Pavel openly pondered as he grabbed a purple dress and placed it in one of her bags, “Sorry about that.”

“Wait, you’re the guy I shagged a while back?”

It was quite difficult to know how his fake robotic form could convey his feelings on the matter but embarrassed was perhaps the best word to describe it. Especially, the part where he remembered the acts of pleasure done to keep him busy. He had plenty of experience with women and enjoyed the time spent with them when the former Red Line officer was alive. “Yes, that was me. I see you went shopping.”

“Verosika’s orders,” She answered while showing one back full of make-up and perfumes, “Girls need someone to buy some ‘necessities’ for an upcoming party. What about you? How have you been since you left?”

“Nothing much. Just doing a few odd-end jobs here and there. Just got my friend invited to the Hazbin Hotel .”

The moment he mentioned the location’s name it garnered attentive eyes not just from the succubus sitting across from him but those around. Kiki’s face brightened with a smile and let out a slight chuckle. “You do realize what you just said? I hope this is some kind of elaborate joke you’re playing on this friend of yours.”

“You could say that,” Then he rose from the floor and gave his metallic hand out to her, “Ma’am?”

“Appreciate the gesture.”

She took his hand as he helped her off the ground along with her shopping items. It was nice to encounter and have a conversation with her. Maybe he should set a date for the future? The Hellborn deserved to receive something in return for that hour stand Verosika put them two without care or consideration. “This might be out of place but would you care for a drink?”

“You’re offering?” Kiki was taken aback by the question as she led him away from the lines and towards the table area, “Was my time worth it?”

“That’s partially it but I feel like you properly deserve something in return for dealing with me. Your friend never gave me an actual genuine chance at you know trying to ask.”

Her free hand reached for her pocket and brandished a white card between her fingertips. Then handed it into his palm with a laugh. “You’re a sinner I’m beginning to like. Call me on a Friday, I’ll set something up. See you then.”

He paused and stood while she departed from his side. Perhaps it was a shock that he managed to return the sexual favor with something genuine but his mind was glad it had come to this.

Chapter Text

Collin and his kin were now stuck in this mortal world and it demoralized them to their core. He and his friends were now banished from returning to Heaven for their failure to safeguard the one life they were tasked to deal with. A few days ago it would have been a normal day trying to turn a man into a Saved. He was a wealthy individual who could still help the world despite his sins; however, others wanted to change his fate. A group of imps had shown up from Hell and went out of their way to convince the old man to die by his hand. Cletus and Keenie - his coworkers - did everything in their power to convince Lyle Lipton to spend the rest of his days performing good deeds on behalf of humanity. They would have succeeded too if Satan’s trash didn’t drop a piano on him.

Three cherubs traveled alone throughout the human world in absolute despair. What could they do in such trying times? There was no way to resolve their situation without talking with their boss about the circumstances but without that explanation, there was no going back. Their lives would never be the same and the only source of shelter was abandoned buildings that the humans seldom lived in. Those that did were often the homeless or drug dealers wishing to conduct business in isolation. This meant that they would suffer the stress of having to find hiding spots away from contact but it would always get worse. Sometimes, the police would show up to bust the scenes and prevent the cherubs from their sleep or relative safety. It would get much worse if it ended with a shootout between the criminals and the authorities.

No matter where they went they would find no comfort.

Cletus and Keenie were out scavenging for food for the night. It was a hit or miss but what they brought back was better than those cold nights with pangs in their stomachs. Collins stayed behind and watched as the lights of a human city flickered in the distance. The mortals rarely displayed their beauty; however, this night was different as he sat on the edge of a rooftop. His loneliness at the abandoned school scared him and the only distraction from its empty hallways and the ghostly atmosphere was the city miles away.

He thought about the possibility of redeeming himself before Deerie, his boss, from the suffering of the consequences. Yet, redemption would have been out of place if his superiors deemed it insufficient. Then he remembered that one moment when he, Cletus, and Keenie had visited the hospital to brighten the mood of those souls. That one Saved had done something great and terrible against the Father and the Council but they were still able to absolve him of his sins. If he could return to the fold, why not a mere cherub?

The ground cracked behind and Collin turned around with the hope that his friends would return. “Hey guys, what did you get?”

“Shit!” Instead of the servants of Heaven, it was a human in a black suit and tie. His eyes were hidden away by sunglasses while carrying a strange gun in his hand, “Don’t move if you know what is good for you.”

“Oh god!”

The cherub jumped off the roof and descended towards the ground as his wings fluttered. Once he had control of himself he flew away from the school with terror in his heart. Humans were never meant to figure out the beings who watched over their souls when they died and it often did not end well. As he gained speed, part of him hoped that he would run into Cletus and Keenie to escape.

Soon the air felt like it was cut as his ears perked up at the sound approaching him. Looking over his head, a massive net was launched in his direction and encompassed his body. He barely had a chance to escape before landing on the ground trying to unwrap himself. Suddenly, the engines of a car roared in front of him and Collin saw a black van arrive in the parking lot of the abandoned high school. A woman peaked out of the driver’s seat in a similar outfit as the other assailant, her face containing a smile on her face. “Nice shot, Agent One. Let’s bag and tag him for management.”

“Let me go,” Cried out the sheep cherub with emotions so high he was on the edge of tears, “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Get some sleep. You’ll need it when you wake up.”

The woman brandished a gun in her hand and aimed it at the incapacitated Collin. Seconds passed until he heard a small puff in the air and a dart embedded in his chest. He wanted to fight back and escape from his captors but he felt drowsy from the drugs slipping into his system. Then his strength faded away as a pair of footsteps clicked towards him from behind. “Cletus, Keenie…”

The great expanse of the Hazbin Hotel gave Artyom the space he needed to work on his weapons for I.M.P. His introduction to the staff and Charlie’s fascinating company had been brief but hopefully, they would give him the privacy that he needed to perform his duties to Blitzo’s business and the mission to find those responsible for the missing weapon shipment. A workshop was ‘gifted’ to him by the princess of Hell but so long as it doesn’t cause destruction or get anyone hurt at the hotel she was fine with him fixing an arsenal for a group of assassins.

He made his way to this room through the hallways with a duffle bag containing an entire arsenal of I.M.P. weaponry. A tinge of jealousy coursed through his mind as he considered his workload back at his cubical. It would have been nice to have a bag of holding that would contain all of the paperwork and files. Yet, the surprising aspect of this moment was how much trust his boss was putting in him. Any other sinner who just arrived in Hell would have gladly stolen his property and tried to make a name for themself.

When he turned around the corner, a small skinny creature in a skirt rushed passed him and he barely caught wind of her words. “Nice to see you, got more cleaning to do, bye!”

Artyom paused and watched as the hotel’s cleaner reached speeds that wouldn’t have been possible if he were alive. Even in death, he still had to adjust to this new world and the strangeness it brought.

He proceeded further down the hallway to see a set of doors to the workshop open wide. Maybe it was Nifty’s doing but he paid her no mind when he made his way inside. His gaze scanned across the room to see a wide variety of machines that served multiple functions. A pristine collection of tools and cabinets were organized neatly so neatly that it touch his soul as a gunsmith. All it did was encourage him to make a mess out of his room and break the weapons down so they can be remade like iron into steel.

Soon he placed the duffle bag down on the counter to his left as he reached into his pocket for a notepad. It contained an entire list of the weapons that Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie wanted to be fixed by the end of the week. One could say his work was cut out for him but the truth was that he loved to tinker with weaponry ever since an old family friend introduced him to the armory at Exhibition station. Just as he flipped the cover over to see what weapon was at the top of his list, his mind paused to think about the person who was casually glossed over within his head.

Where was Hunter?

It had been a long time since Artyom had considered the fate of such a man. The last time they had spoken was when he left their station to kill the angels disguised as mutants. His soul was horrified at the realization of his whereabouts. With the knowledge he had about the Dark Ones, it would be impossible to find him in Heaven and that would imply his fate lay in the depths of Hell for the terrible sins he committed against the authority above all else.

He needed to concentrate on the mission and not get distracted by personal matters; however, this affair was indeed personal on its own merits. Perhaps he could afford the time to also search for him or seek out the man he admired. Maybe Uhlman could assist in seeing an old colleague from the old days? Nothing about this was comforting but perhaps it could give him some form of closure.

Someone approached the workshop and the young man turned around to see which one of Charlie’s residents would appear. Old habits from traversing Metro tunnels in the darkness played an instrumental role in picking up the scent of perfume with his nose. The person snorted with great haste as he expressed his feelings upon entering. “Ah yeah! It’s nice to get that poison in your veins. Hey, you’re one of the new guys that Charlie introduced a couple of days ago.”

“Yes,” The undercover investigator replied as he studied the sinner in a sharp blazer trying to contain his fluffy white chest, “What brings you here?”

“Nothing, really. One of the perks of this hotel is that you can have your drugs in silence. That latino bitch can get on my nerves sometimes. What’s your reason for being here?”

Artyom showed his notepad with the written list of weapons to fix. “Bringing my work home.”

“That’s not what I was talking about,” Clarified the spider, “Why the fuck did you come to this hotel? Anyone who doesn’t live with a head up their ass would know how ridiculous this whole building represents. Did you really buy into Charlie’s idea of redemption?”

“No, not really. I just needed a place to stay and it just so turns out I know that woman with the hooved feet.”

He hoped no one would truly look into his motivations and reasons for every decision he made. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Uhlman and the others trying to remind him of the importance of straightening out his story. Maybe the average sinner didn’t think too much about it but he still had to mentally prepare for these eventualities. It was not like he could tell anyone that he was actually a redeemed soul.

“Say, do you like guns?”

The sinner smiled and left an impression with his humor. “Shooting or sucking them?”

“Oh,” The reply caught him off-guard. His initial introduction with Angel Dust at the meeting should have been enough to tell but it certainly didn’t prepare him for that joke, “The former.”

“I absolutely love shooting the shit. Anyone can suck a dick dry but nothing beats the thrill of the kill. Ah, reminds me of those times with the Chicago Typewriter.”

Curiosity grew in Artyom’s mind as he wondered about the weapon given the way the stranger talked about it. “What kind of gun is that?”

“Thompson or Tommy gun as we gangsters like to call it,” He answered with glee as two of his arms extended from his side and popped the American submachine gun in his hands, “It’s a fine gun when you want to rip and tear.”

“It’s alright but it can jam on you if you don’t fire it in bursts. Still doesn’t beat a good old Kalashnikov.”

His head perked up and his eyes dressed him down. “Ak-47s, really? I thought you would have something fancy for someone who enjoys assault rifles.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asked relatively offended by the sinner’s insinuation as he placed the notepad on the counter with his hands resting on his belt, “I’m Russian. That gun and I go together like… like…”

“Ha, you can’t even come up with a decent analogy.”

Why was this even happening? What was the point of this? Was it because it was nice to socialize with others? Still, he had his way with words. “You’ll change your tune when I have to fix it like your mouth with cocks.”

“Now you’re getting me,” The fallen soul seemed fine with the response as if he was entertained by the conversation he just had, “Railtracer, you’re not what you seem. Maybe you’ll fit right in with the rest of us?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The spider slipped his gun back into his body as he walked towards the doorway while compressing his hands against his chest. “Let’s just say I’m fond of having good company if you know what I mean.”

Soon the ground shook at the night club but Valentino didn’t mind that. Every time the subwoofers vibrated the building, it would match the rising sexual tension and his heartbeat. The higher the rise, the more it would make his whole body implode. Nonetheless, he had to keep an eye out for the DJ. There was so much he could do before paying for building damages.

The overlord laid his back against the sofa and relaxed. A cigarette - his own brand - was wrapped by his fingertips before he brought the butt to his lips and ingested his self-made poison. He groaned in pleasure as a wave of euphoria surged through his veins, awakening his damned soul with newfound stamina. All he needed was a nice piece of ass to settle for and it was a shame that Angel Dust was not here to provide the service. The ingrate had the gall to blow up one of his properties with his friend of his. Sooner or later, he’d pay the fool a visit for making him look weak in front of the others in Pentagram city.

Mewling gasps erupted to his right as his female companions stole the air out from each others’ lips with each kiss. He appreciated their frenzy as their company could turn a room full of sinners and Hellborn into an orgy of sexual deviants. Even now, his body felt the urge to join them by just watching them but he couldn’t afford the time for pleasure. As of right now, he had business to attend to.

Two red doors across the room had swung open as a beetle in a suit and tie mimicking human gestures had entered and he was not eager to speak. “Hey… boss… I know you said that we weren’t supposed to interrupt your sessions but someone decided to attack your turf.”

“What?” His drugged body began to focus upon hearing that offense. Did someone dare to challenge him? “Who the fuck thinks they’re tough shit! Where did this happen?”

“We have some footage but we don’t know who did it. Do you know the ugly fat bitch who owns the tv store? A couple of guys showed up and plastered the place with a grenade launcher.”

It technically was not his territory but the raid was just as important to him. There were two other overlords that he allied with to pool together their resources and manpower - Velvette and Vox. Velvette was someone who enjoyed updating her social media whether it was partying with friends or showcasing her latest torture. Then there was Vox and it seemed likely that this property belonged to him given his obsession with anything related to the TV. “It looks like Vox is going to want payback. Send me the footage tomorrow, I’ll check it out before meeting with him. Now leave.”

“Anything you say, boss.” Soon the sinner reached for the door handles and closed them as he shuffled his way out of the room.

The news caught him off-guard and his subordinate was very lucky he was in a good mood tonight. Now the best part was the thrill of combat in his mind. Every major gang was holding up and keeping their strength so they could survive Extermination Day but now that the wrath of Heaven was over, Valentino felt it was the perfect time to expand and kickstart another war. It’s likely that some gangs have been weakened or killed, leaving behind free territory for others to carve up. Yet, those scrambling for a worthy reputation failed to realize that any assertation came at the cost of consolidating for a fight.

He was going to enjoy the thrill of dealing with these fools. Now the thought alone had spurred his lust. “Alright girls, why don’t you give papa some loving.”

Soon his sexual minxes rose up from the couch and walked in front of him. They were half his size but it didn’t matter to him. The furry squirrel-like girl to his right had begun to purr as her hand touched his lap. “What’s wrong daddy? Do you need to release some tension? A massage?”

“You girls can do what you want,” He began as his hands slowly took off his coat and revealed his bare chest, “A fight is coming and I want to feel like a king.”

He had made a mess in the workshop but he spent the following hours cleaning up the counters covered in oil. It was all worth it in the end as he arrived at the room that Charlie wanted him to sleep in. Nothing about it was bad but perhaps the quarters were a bit too extravagant, even for him. He always preferred to have function over form.

The duffle bag full of weapons was tossed onto the carpet floor as the undercover investigator took the moment to relax his mind. As he closed the door and locked it shut, he jumped onto his bed and embraced the soft and comfortable sheets. Fixing guns was expected of him but trying to properly make a rocket launcher efficient was a totally different affair altogether. Especially, when it involved a live warhead that could explode at any moment.

Now that he was truly alone in an enclosed space, his hand reached for the bracelet on his wrist and took it off. A moment later, his second skin had disappeared and a human form took place of his sinner one. So long as no one opened the door without his permission or looked through the window, he was fine and could be himself without worry.

His phone rang and the Russian eagerly reached for his pocket before turning his head out of the comfort of the pillows to see that Uhlman was calling him. What did he have to say right now? Upon tapping the answer icon, he waited for the first words to come out of his old colleague. “Good job on settling inside the hotel but don’t get too comfortable. I sent Mr. Morrison to sneak around and sabotage some of the weaponry at the I.M.P. arsenal just so Blitzo can have a reason to visit an arms market.”

“What will happen then?” Artyom was curious about his old friend’s plan, “I hope you’re not coming up with something incredibly dangerous.”

A laugh erupted on the other side of the call. “It’s okay. This is all hands on deck at the safe house. Hopefully, we’ll find the missing shipment or any hint of its trace. If you have anything going on tomorrow, clear it. Also, give your boss a call. Knowing how much he loves this job, he’s going to call off vacation to unfuck this mess. Get some rest, you’ll need it.”

Chapter Text

It was a new day and Mayberry was eager to embrace the hours of the day. She had volunteered to cook breakfast for the rest of the hotel and to show off, the sinner woke earlier than usual to get started. Nothing important was going to happen for the rest of the day but perhaps it would help improve her meals. Her culinary skill was no match for the homosexual gangster among the hotel’s denizens; however, it would never hurt to try and improve.

The teacher remembered the last time she was alive and cooked. Fond memories flowed from the back of her mind. Her childhood was special when it came to food since her grandfather would talk great stories at the table with the rest of the family. The father and uncles were ready to work at the steel mill while the women gossiped secrets in the kitchen. Children playing a game of who can catch a thrown tater tot with their mouth. To say it was a great time was an understatement.

She paused in her cooking as the pancakes were flipped over to slowly cook the batter into its warm softness. This time her thoughts fast-forwarded to all of the good moments with the rest of her family and the time she introduced Gerald. At the time, she wanted him to see how her family would react to a long-time boyfriend. Her grip on the panhandle tightened with regret seeping inside her heart.

Grandpa was concerned about the choice of her man. He was a person who was known for his smile and laughter. Seldom did he express his displeasure to the family unless it was truly important. The oldest member of the family did not approve of the man. Gerald and Mayberry tried to sway his initial sentiments and to open his mind about the relationship. Yet, his judgment of her now ex-husband remained hard as the metal the steel workers produced.

How did she not see it then if it was so obvious from one of her most beloving relatives? Why did her stubbornness defy his ruling? Was it out of spite? No, it couldn’t have been. She continued to self-reflect on the views of her decision to even marry him. At the wedding, grandpa put on a face to celebrate but when he was alone with the others, the sinner remembered his disappointment. Even when she tried to cheer him up that time would soften his disapproval, the old man told her of his doubts and hoped the man she once loved wouldn’t break her heart.

Her soul wanted to prove him wrong until she started that visual call from the computer and watched her husband break his vows of marriage in front of her. Anger flowed through her blood before it transformed into stifling her tears at the sadness that followed. Then the teacher realized that if she had a chance to speak to her grandfather one more time, she would have admitted how wrong she was to fall for someone who betrayed her love.

“Are you okay?”

The voice startled her and she turned around to find Railtracer in the kitchen wearing his military fatigue and gas mask while shrouded by his dark cloak. Behind him, the door was open. How was he able to walk in without a sound? “Oh, you scared me?”

“My apologies,” He answered in his Slavic accent, walking to her left, only to snatch a paper towel from a rack and rip it off, “Here. I forget that I can do that to be people sometimes.”

The towel exchanged hands as the woman took the time to get rid of her tears while her eyeliner began to stain. “Thank you. What are you doing here and awake at this time?”

“Business at I.M.P. The company and I are going to head off to handle some weaponry and I was about to fetch something to eat from the kitchen when you were here.”

Mayberry appreciated the gesture he did for her before going back to cooking. She reached for a spatula placed in another pan, where scrambled eggs were being cooked, and began to flip a pancake over lest it grew too dark to be edible. Relief came over as both sides remained free of crisp. Then she stole a glance to the right of the stove, where a plate full of scrambled eggs and a large bowl of corned beef hash were ready to be served. “The pancakes are not done there’s something you can eat in the meantime.”

“Thank you,” His manners were welcoming at this early hour as he shuffled around the kitchen for a clean plate and utensils, “I’ve gotten so used to mushrooms for the twenty years of my life that its a surprise the taste buds can detect any flavor.”

“Was it the only mushrooms?

It was fascinating for her to hear a small window of someone’s life in a post-apocalyptic world as few shared their experiences in those situations. Railtracer gathered his food and sat down at the table behind her. “It wasn’t the only food we had. There are pigs and radioactive shrimps that fishermen have managed to slay; however, they are not the only two sources. Not all of us Metro dwellers had access to either of those and sometimes, I would encounter people who didn’t eat pigs because their faith was against it.”

“That’s interesting,” Her mind thought of any possible people who would abhor the idea of eating pigs, and then she voiced it out loud, “Were they Muslims by any chance?”

“You know a thing or two about him?”

The teacher tossed the fresh pancake onto an empty plate before putting out more batter into the pan. He sounded surprised she even knew anything about them as she explained her first encounter, “Some refugees from the Middle East were brought over to my town. Nice people who wanted to escape from the wars happening there. How did you meet yours?”

“Survivors just like me,” Mayberry looked over her shoulder to see the food before him as his hand reached for his gas mask, “Azerbaijanis and Chechens who were fortunate to escape to the Moscow Metro like most people. Most of them took refuge at a station owned by gangsters but they were surprisingly fair with them. Hated pork but they certainly knew had the spices to turn a rat into one of the greatest delicacies someone can taste.”

“They must have left quite an impression on you.”

She looked at the pan to see the batter cook. “They did but it wasn’t for long. Nazis from the Fourth Reich showed up and began to… exterminate the locals.”

“Nazis?” Just the way he casually spoke of the event shocked her as the teacher stole a glimpse of the man slip his gas mask off and reveal a skull wrapped in a burning blue flame ‘eating’ her cooking, “What were they doing there?”

“Expanding their territory. The bastards believed that Russia is for Russians and anyone who didn’t look like them or talk like them deserved the bullet. I barely got out of there alive.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have asked about his personal life as she continued to produce the pancakes. Then again, someone like him was probably used to the horrors of that reality to the point he was too jaded from experience. Nonetheless, the sinner remained wary of asking any further questions.

A phone rang from his pocket as he ceased his meal and began to respond to the call. “Yes?”

Whoever spoke to him, Mayberry could not discern the voice on the other side. Yet, it all sounded important based on how Railtracer replied.

“Ladna, will go there now,” The moment he ended the call, his fork began to tap against the plate as his voice was muffled by the food in his mouth, “Got to go. Can’t finish my meal.”

She stole a glance from her fellow sinner and watched the straps of the gas mask being adjusted back over his head. “Go ahead, I’ll wrap it up.”

“I hope the tram will get me there on time.”

“Don’t go to the station, it’s not open at this time,” Reaching into her left pocket, the teacher pulled out her car keys and tossed them in his direction, “Take my car.”

The boots clicked against the titles as he went through the door. “Thanks, I owe you one.”

He was gone like a ghost in the wind. All that remained in the kitchen was a woman pondering the regrets of her life. Yet, it all seemed as if her brief conversation with him had improved her mood. She did not know why and had no of expressing those feelings but Mayberry appreciated the company.

The director of the Federal Bureau of Control was keen on the search for the weapons container alongside the servants of Heaven and that one organization that dabbled in time travel. Life had improved since the lockdown at the Oldest House was cleared and every aspect of the Hiss was terminated. Despite the reports on her desk and subordinates, she remained wary of its return and reality at risk. The building was brim with life as new blood joined the bureau and all seemed well.

Everything changed when Arael arrived and entered her office unannounced. Jesse Faden was a woman who did not take to being surprised but that changed when the Archangel of Death was offering coffee and donuts. As it turned out, he had met with every director since the first was appointed to the task of keeping the definition of normal… normal. She could have turned away but there was nothing wrong with accepting outside help so long as they offered to exchange favors for help in return.

It took time to adjust to the new paradigm as time passed for the FBC and the Department of Purgatory encountered other organizations specialized in certain aspects of existence. Yet, this unofficial alliance only made everyone stronger and pool their resources in case a situation arose to be resolved by words, containment, or bloodshed. Once a representative of the department had messaged her about the situation, she was so eager to assist out of the desire for experience since rarely do mortals enter the realms of the afterlife without the consent of its authorities.

Jesse looked at her phone and scrolled through the latest text message involving files containing detailed information about an organization of amateurs. Their latest catch involved the black bagging of an exiled Cherub, who was currently locked away in one of their many buildings. She mused at the impotence of this information until her eyes came across a paragraph mentioning that the servant of Heaven was there because of I.M.P. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place but it did and Death was keen on preserving the status quo about the living prying into the matters of the blessed, damned, and anomalous.

The problem didn’t seem too much of a deal since D.H.O.R.K.S. was such a comical name for her to take seriously. At least the time-traveling agents with auto-targeting submachine guns had a name with some serious respect. This simply reeked of sad men and women who wanted attention. Hopefully, they won’t react poorly when she informs them about the shoes they were stepping on.

She reached for the opened box of pizza on the table in front of her and pulled out a slice with gusto. Then she leaned back in her metal chair and took a bite out of the Chicago-style delicacy. Despite her enjoyment of the meals, the director had to cut back before the fat got to her. The souls of the afterlife didn’t have to worry about weight loss.

Uhlman entered the room with a black briefcase before approaching the table to lay it out in front of her. He began to flip the locks out of position to unlock it, revealing a dismantled gun with all of its parts ready for assembly. Strange white markings were embedded into each piece, revealing its holy craftsmanship and potential lethality. “The others are scouting out the marketplace while we speak but I can’t wait to get this over with.”

“I am not coming,” She began while slowly savoring the pizza in her hand, “It seems that something has gotten my attention and I have to leave.”

“Really, right now?”

His reaction was understandable but she had her reasons.

“What could be more important for you when we are this close?”

Jesse needed to remind him of his position and inform him of the details. “I am here because your superiors made a request but I am the Director of the Federal Bureau of Control. Other duties deserve my attention than some lost weapons.”

“Then what could possibly demand your attention to walk away from this current operation?” The Russian wondered as he placed his hands on his hips, “Tell me what this is all about?”

“A couple of cherubs got exiled thanks to that group of assassinating imps your friend is with. Right now, they’re scouring the world for a way back but an organization of demon hunters has managed to capture one of them. Since the dead are not allowed back into the mortal realm, it’s up to me to deal with them.”

He closed the briefcase and let out a deep sigh. “Okay, how about this? You help me with this operation just for this once, please. I need all hands on deck for this one and then you can head off and deal with that problem. Is that fine?”

“Give me a moment,” The director finished her pizza as the taste of marina sauce remained on her lips. Uhlman had put out a decent offer for her and it was not bad. There was a degree of seriousness that he rarely showed and then there was the fact he was not cracking any bad jokes, “Fine, I’ll help but you owe me.”

“Thanks.”

A door into the mess hall was swung open as Niko arrived in his sinner form as a demonic Bes, like the old Slavic tales, before reaching for his wrist and pulling off his transformation bracelets. His body transformed back into a Serbian in a tracksuit before turning his attention toward them. “Everyone is set up at the east side of Pentagram city. The arms market is being run by a fat fuck called Sidorovich. Strelok seems to know him but there’s talk about a container inside a warehouse of theirs.”

“Are you able to find the one?” Uhlman grabbed the handle of the briefcase while the director brandished the Weapon at her side, “We’re going to meet Artyom over with I.M.P. and we don’t have the time to search for everyone.”

“Pavel’s doing that already. The others are peaking around in case the suspects are present.”

He nodded his head in approval before stealing a glance from her. “Good, we can end this once and for all. Mount up, people.”

The business had been waiting for their sinner of a colleague while in the van. It’s a shame that Blitzo didn’t earn enough to buy a second car so I.M.P. didn’t have to rely on a single vehicle to make do but Loona didn’t mind that. Her adoptive dad was doing his best despite his lack of organization with the funds. Yet, it seemed that things have gotten better since Railtracer’s employment. She rarely had the opportunity to speak to the man since he was too busy fixing everyone’s weapons; however, the equipment and weaponry were improving.

Now they were waiting for him while she busied herself on the phone. As she scrolled through her social media for places she liked, the Hellhound overheard the conversation with Millie and Moxxie. Both imps made for an adorable couple and despite the latter’s finer speech, he did everything he could to be sweet to his wife while being annoyed with Blitzo’s behavior. Then he spoke up from the back seat. “Sir, how long are we going to wait in the parking lot? Couldn’t we just drive and pick up some weapons.”

“It ain’t that easy,” The boss replied while his hands rested on the steering wheel, “Railtracer doesn’t have a ride and I don’t think the funny-speaking sinner has a car.”

“Couldn’t we have picked him up at his place?”

He looked over his seat and looked at the imp in the back. “That’s the thing, he didn’t say. So unless we have an address we have to wait for his ass.”

Millie offered a suggestion. “Anyone wants to play a game while we wait?”

“Sure, does it involve stripping?”

She loved her dad but some moments made her roll her eyes before looking back at her phone. Feeling bored, Loona decided to get a selfie to remember the moment as she extended her arm out of the car and prepared the camera to adjust. Suddenly, she saw a car approach the van thanks to the reflection of her screen which caused her to steal a glance at the oncoming vehicle.

The sedan arrived and parked beside the video with a window rolling down. Blitzo turned his head towards the newcomer before she and her dad recognized the sinner. “Railtracer?”

“It’s a bit of a drive,” Commented the Russian, “Sorry that I couldn’t come earlier but the train station wasn’t open.”

“You certainly took your damn time.”

There was something odd about the car. She could recognize the scent but didn’t know who owned it. Memories poured throughout her head as the boss conversed with the Russian, ignoring what words they exchanged. Several clients came to mind but didn’t match the old scents they had. Then she remembered that one sinner who made that request. “Hold up, I recognize that smell.”

“Loona?” Blitzo asked turning his head towards her, “What’s up?”

“That car belongs to Mrs. Mayberry.”

He was taken by surprise before focusing his full attention on the sinner. “Do you know one of our clients?”

“Yes,” Spoke the sinner, “She offered to let me borrow her car.”

“Oh, did you give her a good fucking?”

It was surprisingly adorable to see this silent and somewhat stoic member of the business express his embarrassment. Even with his gas mask on, his gestures were enough to convey them at this moment, “What? No! It’s not like that!”

“That’s what they all say,” Blitzo teased as his daughter caught a glimpse of a genuinely friendly smile, “Tell her I said hi, and don’t forget to send pictures.”

“Are you guys ready to pick up some weapons or not?”

Millie rolled down the window and perked her head. “Not sure I want to do that. This is far more interesting.”

“I am not fucking the teacher,” Stated an annoyed Railtracer, “Can we go now?”

“It’s okay to be embarrassed. That’s how Moxxie and I got together.”

He groaned in his seat as Loona managed to record the whole thing on her phone. It was funny and probably worth putting on social media. While she prepared to make her post, the Hellhound took the moment to check out what few pictures she had of the former client. Slipping her fingers across the apps and phone functions, she thought about that kind of relationship between the two and considered that those two would make a pretty decent couple.

Uhlman and the director of the FBC had set up a sniper’s position from a construction building across the street where the arms market took place. Most of the safehouse team was already there, pretending to look like the would-be customers looking to expand their arsenal. Although the weaponry was plenty, Strelok seemed not surprised by the exorbitant prices compared to the various arms markets he’s been to.

The Russsian had his Dragonov out and placed it atop several crates that were conveniently placed behind an unfinished wall. He had good concealment from the public eye just so long that nobody looked hard enough to see his Hell form that was a blue and tall furry creature. Throughout the scope, his attention was focused on the people that were present. Line of sight was perfect; yet, he had to account for civilian casualties and worry about the armed guards meant to keep some degree of order. He hoped that his scope wouldn’t have any glint that would give away his position.

A pair of footsteps came from behind as the disguised servant of Purgatory looked over his shoulder to see Jesse arrive from a staircase. The director’s Hell form was an eldritch horror that seemed to be inspired by the stories of Lovecraft’s writing. It honestly fitted her given that she could lift herself off the ground or use some incredibly strange powers rarely seen outside the parameters of the FBC. Her face was that of a squid and creepy in a sense due to her soulless eyes reflecting upon her work as the head of the bureau.

“Did anything happen while I was away?” She asked before brandishing a pair of binoculars from her belt and kneeling beside him, “Surely, something would have come up.”

He shook his head. “I wish. The stakeout is a bit boring compared to what I have seen on the job.”

“What about the location of the container?”

Pavel had been helpful in that specific objective and succeeded by his lonesome. To the left of the market, past the stalls and merchandise of heavy weaponry, was a closed warehouse surrounded by armed guards patrolling the surrounding entrances and windows. His hand reached out and pointed towards the building.

“There.”

“It seems so obvious for us,” Jesse remarked as she leaned forward on her left knee, “Everything about this feels wrong.”

Uhlman felt she was going to say that but the truth was he had orders to follow. So much attention from Tony, Azrael, and the other echelons of Heaven was demanding some kind of progress on this sort of issue. Much more, it would prevent the possibility of reigniting open war against Hell once more and the bloodshed between those who lived in these realms. He wished he could take the methodical approach but time was against him and the chance to track the container was uncertain. “I know the risks but there’s little that can be done about that.”

“Still, it feels like a trap. Is there a way to ease our worries in case things go south?”

“Yep,” He did have a Plan B. If they couldn’t take it, they would track it, “Artyom and Pavel will make their way inside to find anything important. If seizure can’t be completed, we can place a transponder to have our eyes on it.”

The former Polis Ranger noticed her nod in approval. “That’s good. Here goes nothing.”

Soon the duo heard two vehicles make their approach toward the arms market while the head of the group focused his eye on the scope.

“Seems we got additional contacts,” Jesse noted before reaching towards the radio on her shoulder and activating the signal, “Someone gives me a visual on the oncoming vehicles.”

A moment passed before V replied, “It’s I.M.P. Blitzo and his employees are stepping out. Artyom’s in the car behind them.”

It was time for the dead to perform their duties as the sniper made his initial order on his radio. “Ladies and gentlemen, the operation is green. Pavel, Rendezvous with our comrade and proceed into the warehouse.”

They arrived on schedule.

Artyom sat quietly in the driver's seat as he watched the others leave their parked vehicle on the side of the road. Now was the time to avenge the colonel but a whisper at the back of his mind made him hesitate. Whatever the reason it was, he resisted those fears by taking a deep breath before stepping out of Mrs. Mayberry’s car.

Blitzo turned around and waved toward him with a bright smile. “This one’s on me. Pick what you like!”

A few seconds passed as Millie and Moxxie ran off together to explore the arms market on their own time. Meanwhile, the head of the company and his daughter walked together as the Hellhound busied herself on her phone. This left the Russian on his lonesome as he approached the bazaar of firearms and melee weaponry among sinners and Hellborn alike.

The denizens and visitors took notice upon his arrival and gave him an initial scowl before returning to their search and haggles. It almost reminded him of the moment when he arrived at Kuznetsky Most for the first time and encountered vendors and gunsmiths that produced enough firepower for the Red Line and perhaps the rest of the Moscow Metro. The only difference between these environments was that the air was relatively better and the guns were of better quality.

He quietly walked among the crowds and pretended he had any interests. Even though he was on a mission, it seemed like many of them were hand-me-downs of debatable quality. Though, what surprised him was the number of bladed weapons put on display. What could make them so dangerous compared to firearms? Curiosity got the better of him as continued his pretend search, realizing that these blades came from the exterminators with some advertisements eager to admit their thievery.

“Chuvak!” There was only one person in existence who could say those words and it was coming from his right. A robotic man approaches him in a trench coat, “Follow me.”

Then Artyom stole a glance from his surroundings as a form of caution that there would be no prying eyes observing him and the dead communist. Especially, the Hellborn of I.M.P. He hoped they were busy looking around while he carried on with his duties.

The duo left the market area and entered an area sealed off by wooden fences; however, they were fortunate that one of their fellow members from the safehouse was standing beside an open door. A body was dragged to the side as a cowboy, whose face was entrapped in bandages, noted their presence and Pavel spoke. “Fresh kill, Morris?”

“Yep,” He quipped before brandishing a silenced pistol and firing two more rounds into the supposedly dead person, “They shifted guards. I decided to make this easier for all of us. You two get going before they check up on us.”

“Ladna, there’s an open window with our name on it. Get in there and start digging for information and evidence.”

Two Russians entered the compound where the warehouse resided. Each footprint was quiet as they approached the nearest open window ahead and slipped inside unheard. Then the darkness within had taken over their eyes, forcing them to adjust to the shift in lighting but once Artyom had recovered from the transition, a container chassis was parked in the confines of the building. A closer inspection made him recognize the vehicle he had seen earlier, back during the attack.

He didn’t think much of it then but that detail in the past allowed him to acknowledge its existence. “I think we found it.”

“As much as I want to trust your word, we need to open the back to check it out,” It almost felt like old times when he met him for the first time but the pain of his betrayal lingered despite the nostalgia. Still, he couldn’t let those feelings get the better of him as he followed his lead and watched Pavel unlock the lever and open the container door, “Open sesame.”

“What do you see?”

His compatriot swung the door open and stood still for a minute. Curious, the former Polis Ranger stepped forward for a closer look. Inside was a collection of weapons placed on pallets and racks; however, the center was filled with strange suits of armor that took up space in the back of the container. “They were stealing power armor along with some serious firepower to kill a good chunk of Hellborns.”

“Should we call this in and take it with us?” His colleague didn’t respond as he stepped inside and looked around, “Pavel?”

“A shipment of this size would have some lists lying around. I’ll see if there’s a cargo manifest. Go check the office behind us. We might find something there that could help find out why this was stolen. Break a few cabinets if you have to but don’t make too much noise.”

He understood what was being asked of him as he stepped away from his side and turned around. There was a separate room that was connected by doors and windows but the problem was that the blinds hid away any view inside. Artyom was eager to explore but his gut sensed danger as he looked over his shoulder to find Pavel searching through the container. “I need a weapon, just in case.”

“Here, you don’t mind if it isn’t a Kalash,” The dead communist replied as he pulled a weapon off the rack with the pure white markings on the blessed gun, “It’s an M4 but I heard from our American counterparts in other safehouses that it’s good.”

“Appreciate it. I hope Uhlman doesn’t mind if I take a bit of inventory with me.”

It was a strange weapon to him than the makeshift designs he had encountered in the post-apocalyptic wastelands but it always paid to try new guns out. The weapon was tossed in his direction as he snatched it mid-air and then approached the office. He lowered his barrel as the distance to the room’s entrance began to close. His hand reached out for the doorknob and slowly opened a creak inside.

The glass shattered and ears began to ring while Artyom dodged a shotgun blast and immediately raised his carbine. Flicking the safety off, he immediately fired three rounds into the room as the gunshots echoed throughout the building. Soon the Russian kicked the door open and saw the body of a human laying against the wall, bleeding out as a weapon lay at his side. What surprised him was the fact that the hostile wasn’t disguised.

His companion called out to him. “Shit, take what you can and get the fuck out of here. We’re going to get swarmed if we stay.”

Time was now against him as Artyom slung the M4 over his shoulder and began to search through the room for any important documents worth keeping. As he rummaged through cabinets and drawers, Uhlman’s voice was on the radio now alerted of the situation. “We heard gunshots within the warehouse. What’s going on?”

“We’ve been caught,” Answered Pavel, “Mission’s compromised but we’re sacking this building for intel. Keep the bastards off our backs before they get in.”

“Is the container there?”

There was a moment of hesitation before a reply came. “Ladna. I got a manifest shipment and Artyom’s searching through the office.”

“Artyom, pass the intel over to Pavel if you find anything,” He ordered with no hint of comedy in his tone, “Then get out of there and rendezvous with I.M.P. before they leave. We can’t leave any trace of your involvement here.”

He did not need to respond to the orders as his concentration was focused on the numerous papers and manila folders that were littered throughout the office. Yet, none of them were related to the container that was parked outside. Frustrated with his lack of substantial reward for his efforts, he grabbed a nearby table and turned it over. What remained in its place was a safe that was kept closed under a lock.

There was no time to waste on trying to find the key but there was an opportunity to be creative as he ran over to the shotgun that almost killed him and picked the weapon off the ground. It wasn’t like the ones Artyom had used before but he had heard stories about the cool factor that came with reloading the pump. Then he pumped the reload mechanism as a shotgun shell popped out of the chamber, meaning it was now ready to fire. His attention went over to the safe and aimed it at the lock with great concentration.

A single pull of the trigger made him become witnessed a forceful blast that tore apart the lock from its place. When the steel box was free, he pulled the front open and saw some manilla folders that carried a red mark named ‘Classified’ on the cover. This had to be it and as much as he wanted to verify the information, time was of the essence.

He slung his newly acquired blessed shotgun and gathered what was inside. Now part of him pondered about Uhlman tackling this intelligence goldmine before looting what stacks of cash were inside. Then he ran out of the office to see Pavel standing near the open window while gunfire erupted outside.

The communist turned his head to Artyom’s approach before folders were handed over to him. “Here!”

“I’ll be damned,” He remarked before slipping out the window with the classified files kept close to his chest, “The others started a shootout with the local guards. It should distract them and keep them busy. Go find Blitzo and we’ll meet again at the safehouse at a later date.”

“Good luck, comrade.”

A brief moment of brotherhood came between them and was defined by a smile before proceeding to the entrance where Morris stood. No words needed to be said as the investigators disguised as a robot and cowboy had begun to run into the alleyways away from the arms market. Meanwhile, Artyom made his way back to his car through it, each step approaching the gunfire that erupted.

Part of him wanted to steal anything that was there but the danger was too great to even consider that. Bullets zipped past him as he ran through the deserted stalls with great haste. Yet, the firefight was not just between the investigators of Purgatory and the local guards but also with I.M.P. taking defensive positions on the outskirts of the market with overturned tables as cover. In a sense, it was a relief to see them as they returned fire from the positions near the cars.

Blitzo took a moment to stand up and wave his hands in his general direction. “Nice guns, now let’s get the fuck out before the cops show up!”

There was no time for the imp to repeat that order as the Russian jumped over the crew without hesitation while they ran towards their cars while returning fire. Gunfire echoed from behind but Mrs. Mayberry’s car and the van remained untouched as they eagerly took their seats. Once the vehicle in front of him had begun to drive off, he strapped his seatbelt and slammed his foot against the pedal.

Chapter Text

The missing weapon shipment had been located and the container had been tracked thanks to the efforts of Artyom and Pavel. It would have led to a celebration within the safe house but this was a mere step to discovering who was responsible for the attack in Heaven. What also helped was the shipment manifesto. Uhlman reported the exact details to Tony and Death himself; however, they seemed too busy with other matters that were related to their investigation. They were satisfied with their findings when their particular safe house would be given priority equipment to deal with their coming problems in the future. Among other details, they were keeping constant surveillance over the shipment at all times.

Now he had to address the people under his command about their situation but not everyone was there. Artyom couldn’t be present for understandable reasons and his placement at the Hazbin Hotel was too important to pull him out. Everyone in the safehouse was in the meeting room in their respective seats. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think this has been a successful operation all around. Although it was compromised, the mission could have gotten worse. We’re not done with this problem placed upon us but until further information has been achieved, we earned ourselves a break. As of right now, Artyom will remain placed in the Hazbin Hotel and stay vigilant over the imps. Does anybody have any questions?”

“I do,” Pavel said with his hand raised, “With the issue of Artyom with the crowd he’s in, I think we should establish some form of schedule around him but maintain eyes on him should he get into trouble.”

“That is a good point. Unfortunately, our friend of the FBC cannot attend to that issue so this leaves up to a few people. Any volunteers and any excuses?” Now he needed to sort out the available manpower he had available.

Two people sitting on his right turned their heads to him. Valerie opened raised a finger and spoke. “Our vehicles need a bit of an oil change and a few armor upgrades after what happened. Niko says we need some protection for the vehicles in case we get into a firefight like that again.”

“I thought it was sufficient as it is?”

The brooding Yugoslavian shook his head. “If you think a burning engine is sufficient then you and I have very different standards, Russian.”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” The man’s attitude was unnecessary but Uhlman could not blame him for his upbringing. His gaze fell upon the next available members of the briefing room, “So this leaves us a communist officer, a time-traveling cowboy, and a Ukrainian stalker.”

His eyes shifted left as a former survivor of the Chernobyl Exclusion Zone produced a cigarette from his pockets and started smoking. “Radio duty, again.”

“So it’s either Alexander or Morris? Do any of you want to sort this out? Rock-paper-scissors?”

Alexander Morris adjusted his hat before smiling at the former post-apocalypse survivor in the room. “Let me take the shift. Besides, I hear you have taken fancy to a succubus.”

“Well, well, well,” Pavel’s cheeks were red as the leader of the safe house raised an eyebrow at his subordinate, “When is this happening?”

“A couple of days ahead. Just thought I’d give him a favor.”

Valerie laughed as her hand reached into her pocket and tossed an unsealed plastic condom in the man’s direction. “I think you need this.”

“Settle down everyone. We still have work to do.” Uhlman reminded them as their moment of levity died with his command.

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill.”

“As much as any of us would enjoy mocking one of our own having a date,”  He raised his arm and glanced at his watch, “Is everyone ready for their assignments?”

Most acknowledged his command of this building, “Yes sir.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are all dismissed.”

All except one had risen from their seats as they exited the briefing room to carry on their duties. He eyed every individual as their chairs remained empty, save for the director of the Federal Bureau of Control. Just for what reason did she have to remain?

“Miss Faden, I thought you were needed elsewhere.”

She nodded her head before walking over to the entrance to close the doors. “I am but there are details we need to talk about.”

“Sure, go ahead,” What did she have in mind? “Is it related to the operation?”

“More than that. I remember some of the transcripts about Artyom and Pavel in the warehouse. They mentioned that the people inside weren’t even disguised. There’s an implication that the situation could escalate into something else entirely, one that the FBC may not be prepared to handle.” It was a surprise that she noticed those details but he shouldn’t be given the esoteric nonsense that her organization was created to deal with.

“Quite a troubling thought. Here’s hoping it’s simple and easy but you and I both know that is rarely the case in our line of work.”

Verosika Mayday groggily stepped into her kitchen unannounced. She had grown sober after a long night of partying and making love with the latest crowd. The pop star walked over to the counter on her left and sorted through the cabinets for a bowl, a silver spoon, and edible marshmallow cereal. Then she shifted right to be within reach of the refrigerator before opening the door and snatching a cartoon of milk into her arms. Normally, she would seek out her flasks of beelzejuice; however, the succubus felt no desire to be drunk that morning. It was a good thing Blitzo wasn’t here, he would take every opportunity to jeer at her habits.

She turned around and placed all of her belongings on the counter at the center of the room. Then the Hellborn snatched the remote control lying on the counter before looking up to find the flatscreen television placed against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Without question, the succubus directed the control and activated the power button. The window of pitch-darkness flickered to life and returned to the last channel it was on before someone turned it off.

What she saw was an erotic drama channel where porn stars would perform bad terrible roles until the director would intervene and finally demand the actors to get it on with it. This morning was one of the few times that Verosika was not horny enough to watch and satisfy herself. As she poured the cereal box into the bowl, her hand flicked the switch to the next channel to find entertainment interesting around this time. The channel transitioned into one dedicated to cartoons for all ages. On one of few the times in her life, she briefly smiled with joy behind it since the two-dimensional characters beating each other over the head with clubs sparked memories of her upbringing with her adoptive father. Unfortunately, it was too early for the good shows to make their way and so the channel was changed once more to see the news.

Her hand placed down the remote control before focusing her attention on sogging the marshmallows with copious amounts of milk. Once it reached a certain level within the bowl, the young woman looked at the television screen to see the channel’s logo appear with ‘666 News’ plastered on the cover. A blonde sinner and her coworker in a gas mask were on the face of the network. The newscasters began with the woman on the left uncomfortably staring at the camera with an unsettling smile. There was a morbid thought about how the stranger lived in life and the reaction of others about the personality behind the mask being worn before the lens. She didn’t think too hard about it as the anchorwoman spoke. “On the latest news over the weekend, there was a shooting by an arms market. Police have shown up to investigate the reasons for this but they have yet to comment; however, we do have footage of the shootout taking place.”

“Would you look at that,” Spoke the sinner on the right side of the screen in an optimistic manner, “They must be practicing for the upcoming target shooting with a two-for-one budget, all looking to make a name for themselves.”

The channel switched out of view as it showcased security footage of a crowd mingling in an arms market in an area surrounded by warehouses. It seemed unimpressive until she noticed a glimpse of her hated ex-boyfriend, Blitzo. Verosika gritted her teeth before a spoonful of cereal entered her mouth, grinding the frosted oats and marshmallows. Out from a warehouse came an unexpected sight of seeing the latest employee of I.M.P and the sinner who stole her car. Her heart stopped for a brief moment as she recalled the last encounter with the former.

Soon the newscaster’s narration of events was drowned out by her thoughts about Blitzo’s worker. The man was incredibly defensive about his workspace; yet, he expressed his deepest regrets that he even harmed her. If there was one aspect about being a succubus, it was that one could understand the difference between a simple lie to one’s soul and genuine care from the heart. What could this sinner have in store for her? Relationships with their kind tended to be limited and the selfish desires of the tainted souls get the better of them but maybe there was a chance that it could change. There was no one in her life and it was not like his boss was willing to ask forgiveness for his behavior so it couldn’t hurt if she would steal his heart away like a thief in the night. Whoever this man was, he would spice up a bit of her life.

Her phone beeped as she stopped eating and reached into her pocket to see the messages. Sorting past the social media and notifications, there was a text message from her adoptive father. A conversation within the messaging system as she prepared to organize her own response. “Hey, when is your next show?”

“Next month,” The young woman entered before following up with a question, “Why do you ask?”

“I wanted to know whether you are ready for the concert. Have you been drinking much?” She loved her protector but there were some issues that he needed to ignore. Verosika was fine when it came to singing.

“It’s fine, dad. It won’t interfere with the schedule.”

His response was a GIF of his metallic arm flipping a golden coin in the air.

She knew what this meant and it was enough to submit to his demands. “Alright, I have been drinking. I also abandoned my time at the clinic.”

“Shame,” The succubus felt his disappointment, “I know it is tough for you but learn to temper your drinking habit. A bit of concentration helps a lot.”

He was right in the end.

“I sent you those coffee beans you like so much. Hope that helps. I’ll see you later.”

His concerns were helpful and the pop star did not mind it. He was just trying to look out for her future. A small smile was all she could produce knowing how supportive he was from the beginning.

Endless hours spent looking into the briefcase of evidence was a goldmine of information. Supply locations and stockpiles of high-grade military weaponry from the Holy Army were enough to earn a full-scale ‘look’ into these matters. One by one, Tony went down the rabbit hole to find the truth of the whole attack and the mysterious elimination of officers who knew too much. His efforts did not go unnoticed as his superior provided him with a blank check to search for the root cause of the attack on the supply convoy. It had paid off with an off-the-books site located and immediately being seized by the Department of Purgatory.

Now he sat quietly inside an armored personal carrier, wearing his missed wasteland apparel of reinforced body armor and a dusty trench coat. The men accompanying him were the department’s Gendarmerie, a rare elite echelon serving the Archangel of Death. Their body armor, weapons, and equipment were anointed by the Powers. Such souls were rarely deployed unless the circumstances required that they permanently deal with a misplaced sinner or neutralize an entire group of witnesses in the depths of Hell. They were not alone as another APC full of Gendarmes was following their vehicle to its destination.

The vehicle’s radio crackled before the leader of the group turned to his right to find the turret commander looking over his shoulder and relaying a message. “Investigators are in place. Be ready for a hot dismount.”

Tony reached for the holster on the side of his hip. The button strap was popped out of place as his hands tightly gripped the handle of a revolver among the professional seven Gendarmes.

“Breaching.”

Soon the APC’s engines growled like an angry mutt intensifying its hatred for the universe before the vehicle shifted forward with absolute haste. For a minute, there was a slight moment of clarity before they rammed into the building. He looked over his shoulder to see the small vision slit of the outside world as the group broke into a garage door. Now was the time to end it all. “Dismount and secure!”

The back of the vehicle dropped the ram and the soldiers within were quick to rise from their seats and rush out. As the garage was secure, Death’s secretary stepped out and joined the seven soldiers in his quest to search for the truth. They entered the door on the right side of the room, which brought them into the kitchen. He stepped aside as the Gendarmes broke off into smaller groups and searched through every corner of the house. His eyes saw movement across the counter to his right and past the living room, only to witness the second APC arrive and additional soldiers break through the front entrance They scanned the room before eight men proceeded to the stairs on their right and ascended to the second floor.

Tony waited until the shuffling of boots and the hard kicks of doors came to an end. To his surprise, there was no one here who was screaming in terror that the Department of Purgatory had come for them. There was an unnerving feeling that he may have missed his opportunity or his information had led him to a dead end but he kept that thought at the back of his mind. Everyone was capable of making mistakes and leaving behind clues, even the blessed Saved were not infallible.

A Gendarme upstairs shouted. “Clear.”

Then a pair of footsteps ran down the staircase and approached the man waiting in the kitchen. He had a manila folder in hand with a thick collection of papers.

“The whole house is empty but our guys found something in the last room,” His face was hidden behind a pair of goggles and a balaclava mask but his tone seemed hopeful despite the lack of resistance, “I think you may find this interesting.”

He gave an approving nod before taking a seat by the kitchen table. “Thank you, Sergeant Garrick. Secure the perimeter and do not leave a single corner undisturbed. Every scrap of paper helps.”

“Understood, sir.”

The Gendarme walked away as orders were shouted and the elite ranks of the department overturned shelves or ripped out cabinets everywhere they went. Meanwhile, Tony opened the file to see what it contained. More information for him to siphon through over the next few days but it was better to sort it out while he had the time. There were more locations; however, there were memos about preparations for an upcoming operation involving Hell itself. Who was involved was a question in of itself; yet, his stomach seemed to churn whenever he continued his intelligence gathering.

This was no mere operation akin to the yearly exterminator incursions. Instead, these were all war plans being developed for a methodical decapitation strike on the denizens of Hell. Lists of important overlords and nobles were labeled as key targets to terminate any form of resistance. Sinners and Hellborn alike would be given no mercy once this plan was enacted with the hope of gathering political support in the Council of Archangels to join the perpetrators. He flipped through detailed paragraphs for a war that would surpass all wars but then he noticed several photographs that were clipped to some of the pages. All of whom involved the owner of I.M.P being the catalyst for what was to come given his ability to walk between the mortal realm and Hell itself. Blitzo and his fellow assassins would be used as scapegoats to justify this war due to their connections with a Goetia nobleman.

His work was cut out for him. “Holy shit… things are escalating.”

He heard a commotion from upstairs as two Gendarmes were carrying a board down the steps. “Careful, we don’t want to break it.”

“What are you guys doing?” He wondered as he rose from his seat and approached the men by the stairs, “Did you find anything interesting?”

“This is one of them. Here’s a board full of threads that you might want to take a look at.” Stated the one holding the bottom board.

Tony stole a glance from the board to find photographs pinned and threads connecting each one together in some shape or form. Yet, he recognized the faces of I.M.P on the left and their Goetia associate being connected by a single thread. Then the line reached out to the ruler of Hell and the fallen Archangel. Two words were labeled underneath his official photograph for the public, ‘Kill him.’

Azreal needed to know what and the department had to be ready for what would be their greatest situation.

The weapons were clean and there was no contract on standby. So all the employees of I.M.P could do was merely take the time to relax and enjoy their time together. Artyom sorted through the refrigerator for a paper plate wrapped in aluminum foil. He did not know why but he seemed to notice that Mrs. Mayberry was eager to cook him meals for work. It was not exactly a bad thing as he appreciated good food but the former stalker felt there was a deeper reason for her to provide for him.

He closed the fridge with his food in hand as he entered the lounge part of the office to see Moxxie sitting on the couch fiddling with the guitar strings. Merely seeing that instrument brought back fond memories of when he was alive. His skill had not waned but his existence in the afterlife had yet given him the opportunity to try again. The Russian sat on the couch across from the imp as he unwrapped his food on the coffee table between them. “Are you practicing?”

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to work on a love song for my wife,” He answered, “When I am not busy or Blitz isn’t breathing down my neck, I do it to pass the time. Do you play?”

“It’s been a long time since I played some strings. I don’t know if I’ve grown rusty or not.” It was that uncertainty that concerned him but Artyom did not wish to spoil the moment. Much to his surprise, he saw his colleague present his instrument.

“You sure?”

The imp smiled and nodded his head. “It’s nice to have someone who appreciates music. Do you have a good song to play?”

“I do,” He remembered a time in the Order when young men had returned from their missions on the surface of Moscow, only to learn about how much had changed since they left. It would be depressing one at that; however, there was a doubt that Moxxie would understand his language, “If you would?”

The guitar was passed over the table and into the hands of the former post-apocalypse stalker. A moment passed so Artyom could clear his thoughts. Then his fingers slowly reached for the strings.

Chistyj zvon bokalov i rodnye lica,

My zdes' sobralisja, chtob poveselit'sja.

Vspomnim-ka druzhishhe, kak nam trudno bylo,

Kak tebja devchonka bystro pozabyla.

Za chto my p'em, za chto my p'jom,

Da ne za prazdnichnym stolom,

Za to, chto v zhizni ne sbylos',

Za zapah devich'ih volos,

Za te mesta, gde nebo krysha,

Za telegrammu: "Zamuzh vyshla",

Za marsh-brosok, gluhie stony,

I za armejskie pogony.

Vspomnim, kak ty prygal v ramku samoleta,

Kak bezhal na marshe, proklinaja chto-to,

Vspomnim, kak my zhili sutkami v bolotah,

Tak davajte zh vyp'em za parnej, chto v stropah.

Za chto my p'em, za chto my p'jom,

Da ne za prazdnichnym stolom,

Za to, chto v zhizni ne sbylos',

Za zapah devich'ih volos,

Za te mesta, gde nebo krysha,

Istochnik teksty-pesenok.ru

Za telegrammu: "Zamuzh vyshla",

Za marsh-brosok, gluhie stony,

I za armejskie pogony.

His fingers stopped playing before looking across the table to see a fellow guitarist widen his eyes. Then he passed the instrument back as the imp let out a small chuckle. “In Satan’s name, you’re full of surprises.”

“Am I?” Humility came into the picture as the Russian returned to unwrapping his plate to find two roast beef sandwiches with a layer of cheese and lettuce, “It doesn’t take much to leave an impression.”

“What is that supposed to… mean?” Artyom sensed his coworker’s sentence trailing off. He stole a glance at his expression and found his blood drained as if a sight had grabbed his attention.

“Moxxie?”

His ears heard the seductive tone of a woman speaking from behind his back; however, he recognize the speaker. “Oh, it certainly does leave an impression. I expected you to be a brute who knows nothing else except guns. Yet, here I am finding a gem that my ex discovered.”

The Saved in disguise was about to turn around and look but a soft white glove hand reached out and touched his right shoulder. Then his eyes shifted up to see a Verosika standing up over him in a green blouse and black leggings. It was the succubus he accidentally shot when he was working that day and she was smiling at him.

“Hello there. Are you surprised to see me?”

“Wait a minute?” Moxxie wondered, “Railtracer, how the fuck do you know Verosika Mayday?”

She turned her eyes towards the imp. “I was about to take over this dump you call an office before your coworker shot me.”

“Did someone say we have a popstar in our office?” A red blur approached the two couches as Millie rushed over and landed a spot beside Moxxie.

“Yeah, I used to be your boss’s ex-girlfriend.”

That explained why she was going to make a mess of I.M.P’s workspace, she was going to trash it. He truly couldn’t care about her relationships with his boss but if she returned, the Saved soul was unsure of what Verosika had in store for him. Artyom looked at the Hellborn sitting across from him, expressing their absolute shock. “Blitz managed to date you? What did you see in him?”

“I ask myself that same question.” Her tone was different and filled with a somber attitude behind the succubus’ words, “But I am not here for him. I am here for your sinner friend.”

“Uh, what exactly do you need me for?” He asked of her, looking at the sexy demon who stole the entire atmosphere of the room before slightly loosening his gas mask so he could take a bit from his sandwich.

“In a need for some fun, and well, you’re it.”

Verosika jumped over the couch and landed beside him. Then her hands snatched the food out of his and tossed the sandwich onto the unwrapped plate. Artyom was speechless as she slid the gasmask off and revealed his flaming skull to his coworkers. Paralysis took over his soul before she lunged forward and pushed him against the cushion, embracing him with a long passionate kiss. Yet, she took it even further as her tongue slipped into his mouth and caught him by complete surprise. Minutes passed until she pulled her head away, gasping for air and wiping her lips.

“How was that for a kiss?” After what just happened to him, he truly could not find the words to describe the Hellborn’s ability for pleasure.

His eyes trailed down and saw the door past her swing open with a kick as Blitz stepped out of his office with a baseball bat in hand. The imp’s face was red with anger while the daughter sitting at the desk beside him was expressing a concerned look for her father. “Okay, I got the horny bat, who is currently fucking on my couch?”

“I can answer that,” She spun around and directed his full attention onto his supposed boss, “You got someone I need to play with.”

“Loona, how did the damn skank come into my office? You know what, don’t answer that question. Railtracer, get away from her before I turn you into collateral damage.”

“Just like you damaged my heart.” What did his boss do to piss her off?

Blitz stomped his way over and stared up at the tall succubus. “Satan’s tits, do you ever let that go?”

Life experiences at Exhibition Station have taught him that sometimes former lovers need to get their issues out of their systems. There was no need for him to remain in the room and hear them argue for a whole hour… or two. Artyom clambered out of the couch and snatched his gas mask and meal with him as he sought out the hallway outside the office.

“Hey, where the fuck are you going?” His boss demanded of him, “We need to talk after this.”

He looked over his shoulder and saw the Hellborn throughout the entire room staring at him. “I know where this is going and it’s going to take a long time. Let me take my lunch break on the roof.”

Then he proceeded to leave the others to their own fate as he pressed forward to exit the floor.

A limousine drove through the streets of Pentagram city with ease. Any sinner that knew the overlord’s ride would move aside and make way for his vehicle to pass through. It was a reputation that Valentino earned throughout his existence in Hell and any who would dare inconvenience him would feel his wrath. Fortunately, his mood was better than most days but he was currently on a business trip with his partners.

The ride approached a former television station that had been converted into the headquarters for Vox and his gang. Yet, it also served as the ultimate meeting place to conduct business since they could distribute orders to their low-ranking gangs backing them up. As the vehicle slowed down and parked at the front of the entrance, a bear-like sinner in a red tuxedo stepped forward from the main entrance and opened the door. Then the doorman stepped aside and gently bowed his head, “It is good to see you again, Mr.Valentino. Master Vox and Mistress Velvette are currently in the studio.”

“Good to see you, Geo,” The overlord stepped out of his limo in his flamboyant dress and handed a folded wad of cash over to him, “Take me to them?”

Once the money was put away, the servant closed the passenger door and brought Valentino inside. A red carpet lay before them, which led to three elevators on the far side of the room. On the right were sinners working as the front desk staff while the left was full of construction crews making renovations to the entrance hall. His counterpart was extravagant but that is what happens when people pay exorbitant fees to be on the best television network in Hell. Then they entered the elevator as the doorman pressed the button on the presidential suite before stepping out.

“I appreciate the good gesture.”

The doorman nodded and returned to his job.

Minutes passed as the overlord remembered what he saw in the footage. A white van showed up to pick up a small sinner and trashed the television store in a short time frame. He brought out his lighter and joint, smoking it inside as the smoke built up. As his nerves relaxed, the man recalled their black uniforms before hitching a ride and leaving the scene. These sinners were professionals and that meant they needed to be dealt with immediately before someone caught on and bought out their loyalty.

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and allowed the smoke from his joint to leave the small confined container. He took his first step onto the presidential suite to see his fellow overlords sitting on a couch and taking selfies on the opposite side of the room beside a massive television screen. Once the female sinner flashed the camera light, she turned her head to Valentino and smiled. “Look who has come to visit us! Valentino, great to see you back. Did you find someone nice on the thirteenth floor?”

“No, but I’ll pass by and see what models you have in store,” He answered before bringing up the subject at hand, “Vox, Velvette, we have some business to discuss.”

Beside the pig-tailed overlord was the television head in a business suit was his other partner. “Is it about that store attack you sent me?”

“Yes, I know how much it means to you when you want to shove a twelve-inch screen on every corner and avenue. What do you think?” Valentino asked of him.

The screen Vox had for a face containing two eyes and a mouth had expressed a grim look. “The bitch who owns the store kinda needed a bit of punching; however, we can’t take this lying down. I’m willing to send a gang if you two are willing to pitch in.”

“Sure, I got some idiots willing to get paid,” Velvette adjusted her black shirt with two hearts, “How about you, Val?”

“Is that even a question?” He grinned, knowing their willingness to find the culprit.

Chapter Text

There were rare days when the ruler of Hell was able to spend time off in his palace. Although he had all the time to himself, these days were different from the rest. Lucifer strode through the halls with his cane and stole a glance at the painstaking effort put into the portraits depicting his ego, his wife, and his daughter. Each was a piece of history in itself, a reminder of a time when Charlotte still lived under his roof and gladly woke up each morning to brighten his day. Yet, she was no longer in his company anymore.

He stopped and turned his body to the right to find himself looking at the door to his daughter’s bedroom. Then he reluctantly reached out for the golden knob and turned the mechanism over to let himself in. It swung inward as the fallen archangel took his first step, filling him with a mixture of somber emotions and dread seeing the room once more. An empty bed lay before him as a small round window was placed high above the headboard, which gave a glimpse into the outside world, featuring the white dot in the sky that lorded over the existence of Hell and its denizens. To his left was a closet filled with a number of dresses and costumes, only a fraction of the true set was missing as the right side of the room contained a desk and mirror with the finest makeup that was rare to even the greatest of sinners and Hellborn. All of this preserved ever since she stormed off to her hotel.

Lucifer recalled the days when his child would bring him here and spend countless hours drawing pictures or reading her bedtime stories before she slept. As she grew, he admired her curiosity for her position as the princess of Hell. When she was old enough, it was also the first place where she had her first kiss without his knowledge. Though, he did not mind the experiments with love as her mother openly encouraged it. His heart sank when he remembered the last memory of his daughter arguing with him about the redemption of sinners. It gave him no comfort to discourage that dream of hers after witnessing so many exterminations and how he stood by and watched souls have their existence taken from them.

The grip on his cane tightened when he pondered about that fateful day. His daughter was smart and brave; yet, she still was not ready for some truths he kept in the dark.

Lilith’s voice broke his concentration. “Dear?”

“Yes, my beloved,” He turned around and found his wife standing in the doorway, expressing concern and worry, “Is there something the matter?”

“You are here again.” She brought a comforting presence as his company. This was the only person in his existence that understood him and eased the moments when he was vulnerable.

“I was just making sure that Charlotte’s room remained organized as it always was.”

It was a lie he made up on the spot. Lucifer would never dare to touch his daughter’s belongings. She left it that way but he would respect her bedroom as part of her convictions. Yet, it was not enough to convince his beloved from seeing through his smoke and mirrors. “You do not have to put up that brave face for me. It hurts to watch you torture yourself like this.”

“Am I that obvious?” He pondered to himself before taking a deep breath and sighing in defeat. No point in fabricating the truth besides his woman, “I miss her.”

“Didn’t I tell you to go talk to her? It does not take a genius to see that you two need to have a conversation and hassle this out.”

“Yes, you did. It’s just that I fret that it will be about the hotel at some point and our disagreements will arise. Charlie is naive about how reality works and she does not understand the history and bloodshed done on your behalf. If I told her the truth of it all… I doubt that she would even forgive me?” He trailed off unable to continue their conversation.

Lilith approached him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “We have to try. For our family’s sake. I think we need to finally tell her about the war and the reasons you are so adamant about.”

“It is not so simple,” He said, pulling her close resting and gently wrapping his arm around hers, “I don’t think I am ready for that.”

“That is what you said about being a father when I was carrying her.”

The ruler of Hell smiled as his gaze looked past his beloved; yet, he sensed the atmosphere change. A dark figure stood at the doorway making its presence known and the individual was carrying a white bag of donuts. Lucifer’s eyes widened at the sighting of his brother catching him by surprise. Then everything changed when the Archangel of Death spoke, “Is this a bad time?”

Soon the queen turned around as the husband and wife turned to confront an old memory. “Azreal?!”

“Quiet,” He said with a bony finger raised before his hood as he walked into the bedroom and closed the door once inside, “I don’t want to make any loud fuss and we need to keep this under the table as much as possible.”

“The last time we saw each other, you were beside the High Marshal when the treaty was signed.” She remarked about the past; especially, the moment that sealed the fate of the War in Heaven.

“You and I both know my duties to the power above.”

If his brother was here and willing to openly talk to him and the queen of the succubus, there was a purpose involved in his visit. Lucifer broke away from his beloved’s side and took a step forward. “There is a reason you are here. How goes your investigation?”

“Reasonably well for the time being. One of my trusted subordinates has personally It has escalated, brother,” Answered the archangel as he passed the white bag over to the king of the dark realm, “Someone is out to kill you and I fear it may escalate.”

“There are many in Heaven who would see me dead. High Marshal Michael is a first guess given the history our history in the war but then Adam is another due to his vested interest in Lilith. I can’t seem to think of anyone else off the top of my head. When did you receive this information?” It was difficult to simplify his list of enemies and he was unsure of what to make of his brother’s warning as he walked back and forth from Charlotte’s bed to the door, pondering the possibilities. His wife sit down on the bed as the Grim Reaper stood in the middle of the room.

“The information is fresh and the trail is hot but this conspiracy has convinced me to help you as much as possible. Charlie… may be targetted as well.”

He stopped in his tracks and turned his head toward his brother. “Why? For what reason would they want to hurt her? She is innocent and far too good to be a target by those in Heaven.”

“I wish there are those who share your views; unfortunately, she is your daughter and there is talk about her being an extension of your will,” It sounded like he was hesitant to speak before him while lowering his head hidden away underneath his hood, “Should the need arise, I would gladly offer my department’s services for her protection.”

Lilith spoke her mind and chimed on the subject, “You are known to be unorthodox; however, this is an unthinkable decision even coming from you. It must be serious enough to protect Charlie.”

“Indeed but this goes deeper than you three being targeted. Members of the Holy Army are organizing a second war, which will involve members of the Council of Archangels. Whoever these people are, they intend to seek out enough political support to carry out their acts against Hell and I am unable to trust my brothers to be reliable.”

“You have told no one of this,” The queen asked, “If they discovered this conversation, you would be ousted.”

Death nodded his head in agreement. “Aye, you are correct. Treason is something they cannot abide but injustice is a sin I will not permit.”

The ruler of Hell smiled at those very words. Azrael was always a surprising character at times underneath the facade of an exhausted servant of God.

“Some of the elite units of my department are alert in the case of an emergency; however, I ask your permission to provide my niece her protection.”

Lucifer shifted his eyes over to his wife. “I do not think so but my beloved may say otherwise, any thoughts.”

“You need to have that conversation with her,” Lilith’s gaze hardened with a look that struck the fallen angel with a tinge of fear. It was a rare moment for her to get the point across but that also meant that the queen of the succubus would incur harsh punishments of her own if he continued to hold it off, “Azrael, as a caring wife and mother, I would appreciate it.”

“Understood.” The Archangel of Death snapped his bony fingers until a scythe appeared beside him and he reached out with a quick grip. When he did this, it was a sign of his departure.

A thought came to his mind ever since the previous meeting with his brother. There was a disguised Redeemed hiding out at the Hazbin Hotel. “Before you go, will you employ the agent at Charlie’s place?”

“Yes. It may bring a surprise to you but the Saved soul is an angel slayer. I hope that he does not need those qualities that earned him that moniker. Goodbye.”

Azrael raised his weapon high before tapping the floor. White light encompassed the room belonging to the princess of Hell as the royals readjusted their eyes to find out that he was gone in an instant. Yet, what was said raised more questions than answers. Perhaps a visit would ease Lucifer’s curiosity and appease his wife’s concerns for the wellbeing of the family.

A phone rang and beeped incessantly in the bedroom. Out from underneath the blanket, a sinner reached out to his bedside and deactivated his alarm clock before letting out a tired groan. He needed to get up but his body had been exhausted by menial work in the confines of Pentagram City. Yet, the tainted soul desired to sleep another fifteen minutes.

His respite would never come when a soft hand reached out across his chest and reminded him of his obligations. A sultry accent from Mexico was all that was needed by his female companion to open his eyes. “Wake up, Hunter. They’ll fire you for being late.”

“I know,” He replied before shifting his body in bed and turning to meet his girlfriend’s face. Her skin was painted like ash with bone tattoos aligned anatomically with the skeleton within. The face was etched with a skull while the woman’s right eye was surrounded by rings of pink flower petals. Yellow pupils stared into his gaze as she smiled and kissed the old soldier with black lips, “You really want me to work.”

“We got to pay the rent somehow,” Commented the sinner as Hunter’s hand reached for her gray hair and slowly brushed it with his fingertips.

“There will never be a shortage of work. I can guarantee that.”

His phone rang and the golden-skinned man flipped his body over to his bedside to find someone calling him. There was no name identified as he sat up from the left side of the bed and snatched the device. “I’ll go cook something. You better take the call.”

He relaxed his body with a deep breath as his girlfriend walked out of the room with nothing but a wrinkled orange dress on. Once she closed the door on her way out, the former Polis Ranger swept his thumb over to the green phone icon on the right side of the screen. It was a job, one that was suited to people like him. Several seconds passed before a deep distorted voice spoke to him, “Are you ready to earn your redemption?”

“As long as you are willing to fulfill the end of your deal,” Hunter asked the mysterious caller. Ever since he came into contact with the stranger, his life had improved from living on the streets or getting into brawls with stalkers in Eastern European-style clubs. He owed his very existence to this anonymous benefactor but he desired more than to live the rest of eternity in Hell. One had to be a fool to believe life would remain the same blasted wasteland with the other fuck-ups of the afterlife, “What is the mission or who is the target?

“I will send you a series of PDF files to your phone about these targets and their common whereabouts in Pentagram. When you find the individuals, terminate with extreme prejudice. Heaven has no room for traitors and God will forgive thee of your sins. Then your deal will be complete.” It was one of these missions where removing a servant of Heaven was required. He took pleasure in these assassinations but it was also the price he must pay to enter the pearly gates. A message popped up with the file available for download. His finger tapped on the highlighted document as pages of information and digital pictures fed into his memory system.

“Information package received.”

“Good,” The garbled voice acknowledged as if approving the choice to accept the mission, “This will be one of many but ensure there are no witnesses.”

Soon the call ended as the sinner contemplated his decisions. Once his girlfriend fixed him his breakfast, he would set off and make his preparations.

Husk sat stood up from behind his counter and manned his recently-acquired job. He did not expect much to happen to the hotel and doubted that there would be newcomers to join Charlie’s hotel of redemption. Yet, the sinner could relax and quietly take ‘samples’ of the bar’s inventory for a taste while servicing the building’s occupants with the cheapest booze to ever exist in Hell or the finest drinks meant for the upper classes. The only time he was ever content in this dreadful existence was when he was gambling away his hard-earned money and was lucky enough to swindle the cash from his unfortunate opponents or throwing up in a back alley. Though, his troubles have led him to hear thanks to Alastor’s habits of making deals with someone like him. The man was not sure if this particular overlord was worse than the devil himself.

His peace was interrupted when Angel Dust approached his bar and took a seat on the stools across from him. The damn bastard was always hitting on him with every opportunity; however, the gangster of a drag queen made for a fine drinking buddy at times. There were times when he decided to get too sweet and be reminded of the reality that he wasn’t interested in a relationship. “Drink?”

“You know the usual,” The Italian answered as he brandished a small pouch from his chest of fluff before snorting white powder up his nose. Soon, he let out a chuckle and leaned forward, “Good thing the gals aren’t here to give a shit. Anything interesting on your end?”

“It’s boring as fuck at times.” It was one of the moments he would be honest with him as he pulled out a glass, poured scooped ice inside, and reached for a bottle of whiskey from underneath his workspace.

“Nah, what you need to change things up is to have some gossip around here. Everyone always has their favorite bottles and wants to unwind, even release some tension by to someone. After all, how did you think I ended up the way I went?”

Husk glanced at Angel’s appearance and also judged his personality. There was not much for him to make of outside of selling his body to the highest bidder. “It probably involved a lot of cocksucking after people cried on your shoulder.”

“I was about to say otherwise but let’s be honest, you’re not wrong there. My mouth has certainly did a lot of lip service and I love it.” He replied before the bartender poured the alcohol into the glass and passed it over to his customer. Then the bottle ended up on his lips and chugged away.

The hotel entrance was opened and the duo turned their heads to find Railtracer entering with a duffle bag in hand. He was quite the stranger who kept to himself but the gambler knew full well that everyone had their secrets. Fortunately, he had no intention to start asking questions about a guy who fixes weapons for a living. Then the pink-furred spider spun around in his seat and waved his hands.

“Hey, good to see you! Anything interesting in your line of work?”

He shook his head before taking a seat beside Angel and dropped his bag beside his legs. Then the ghostly Soviet soldier slipped his gasmask off and revealed a skull wrapped in blue flames. Husk raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that he had not shown his face until now. “I have a feeling you got a reason for being here instead of the workshop.”

“You have no idea. Get me two of those tasty American drinks, I’m not in the mood for vodka,” Without a word, the bartender walked over to the refrigerator behind him and produced two glass bottles before returning to the counter. Once he handed them over, Railtracer popped a bottlecap and sipped the soda, “Apparently, I earned the attention of a succubus and she has been visiting me at work.”

The sex worker beside him had laughed and nudged his shoulder with his. “Fuck yeah! Now, I don’t swing that way but that is a sign that she is interested in you. What she do? Have any kinky shit you’re up to?”

Husk shouldn’t have been surprised by his behavior; however, he noticed that the Russian weapons mechanic was concerned about something else. “I think our buddy here might be telling us something else entirely.”

“You think so? This is the first time he’s been open about what happens at I.M.P,” Then Angel Dust leaned against the counter and focused his full attention, “Something wrong with you? Does your pecker not work?”

Railtracer took another swig before the flames on his skull revealed a slight smile on his face. “She kissed me and I did like it but there’s some baggage about her. As it turns out, my boss is her ex-boyfriend and they certainly have a history with each other. None of you have no idea how many colorful insults I’ve heard that would make an erotic poem blush.”

“Ah, I see. If you reciprocate her feelings, you’re going to be on your boss’s shitlist?”

“That is what I am worried about,” The bartender wasn’t drunk enough to lose his senses but he felt like the man was treating this issue with careful consideration, “Hard to concentrate with the yelling. Sooner or later I got to talk to Blitzo and Verosika about reconciling their past somehow.”

He recognized the name of the imp in charge of the Immediate Murder Professionals; however, the other name seemed familiar. Yet, Husk was unable to recognize where he heard of her before. Then the homosexual spider expressed his reaction, “Hold the fuck up? You’re talking about Verosika? The Verosika Mayday?”

“Yes, her. She showed up on our floor in an attempt to trash my armory but a gun jam accidentally fired and shot her.” Just the way he described his interaction with the succubus was enough to make him chuckle. It sounded innocent, or rather, the sinner didn’t seem to recognize the importance of the person he was speaking of, unlike the Italian beside him.

“So let me get this straight - you shot a famous popstar in Hell, work for her ex, and somehow still horny enough to start a relationship?”

Railtracer paused his drinking and looked up at the ceiling. Then he gave a confirming nod. “You pretty much summed it up.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” The bartender remarked as he placed his bottle on the counter and the trio leaned closer to each other’s company, “Don’t know how you’ll deal with that.

“Let’s give a toast to your friend here at having a chance of eating out some good pussy. We got to give you as much luck as possible and see where this possible relationship can end up.” Angel Dust raised his whiskey on the rocks before the winged two-legged cat and the apparition in a military uniform brought their drinks together and tapped glasses.

“Cheers.” Soon they took one long sip for a single sinner’s chance at making love.

The department’s spending on the latest sports car had not gone to waste. Originally, it was meant for Artyom to travel between his residence in Hell and his work at I.M.P but the changing situation prevented its use. Now? Pavel was using it as a joyride and a way to impress his succubus date. Valerie had connections to people who built high-quality vehicles in this dark realm and it showed with the incredible driving handling he had ever come across.

His date remarked on the vehicle’s acceleration and ability to make a smooth stop. “What did you do for a living that gets you a car like this?”

“I don’t steal stuff like this,” He answered as his eyes were focused on the road so they could get to their destination; however, the communist had to maintain the secrecy as much as possible, “It’s too high profile not to get noticed by the authorities but I do know someone who peddles this stuff underground.”

“So you have your connections as well.” The driver did not know what she meant by that but he did not mind. This was his first proper date with the succubus and there was still enough space for everything to go wrong.

“What’s this place we’re going to?”

“Great question,” The Hellborn was quick to acknowledge him as her hands adjusted her black bodycon mini dress and flattened the wrinkles, “Verosika doesn’t like to be in Pride a lot but there’s this cafe called the Macho Machine . Turns out her dad owns the place but he makes the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. Our crew sees it as the best hangout spot when we’re shopping.”

Pavel pondered about the pop star’s father. He would likely have heard about that incident where he hijacked her car and he was bound to discover what kind of personality would view him. Unfortunately, there were many forms that the Hellborn enjoyed and it was difficult to mentally picture the disapproving individual in the back of his mind. “Sounds like a lovely man.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

She seemed to be taking pleasure in his fear but that was a challenge he would have to address once he got there.

“Take this left turn. The cafe will be on this corner street with a single street lamp.”

He decelerated his vehicle before slowly turning the car to a different street on his left. Kiki pointed out that the building was further ahead before he closed the distance and parked the orange Mustang in the designated parking spot. Then his stomach started to growl as his lovely companion chuckled.

“Good thing sinners can’t leave Pride. Gluttony will quite literally eat you alive.” She said as her hand reached for the door handle and opened it. Soon she clambered out of the vehicle with her black high heels tapping against the pavement. The disguised Saved soul took the moment to admire her beauty despite all of the department’s training to discourage such a connection with a Hellborn. Soon, he stepped out of the car and activated its automatic lock before walking over to the sidewalk and presented his arm forward.

“May I be your escort?”

Kiki smiled and wrapped her arm around his. “You may.”

The duo walked to the front of the old red-bricked building with its 1920s theme inside. Behind the glass door was a closed sign but his date did not hesitate to reach for the handle and encourage him inside. As they entered, a bell jingled above with no one present for them. They were flanked by booths lined up against the windows while tall tables were organized in a checkerboard pattern with each occupied by four stools. On the other side of the room was a counter where the barista would be; however, there was no one there to greet them.

“Don’t let the sign deceive you,” She stated while leading him across the way, “The cafe’s a referral only.”

Pavel’s eyes noticed movement across the counter and among the carts full of bagels and donuts. Then he was taken aback by the sight of a blue mechanical humanoid robot with golden wings on its back and a crimson red arm, flying across the open spaces with swift precision. The very fact that it was able to not knock anything to the ground within its movements was enough to leave the disguised Saved drop his jaw. Then he remembered what the demon beside him said about Verosika’s father, “Does this robot help him out at the shop?”

“No, it’s her adoptive dad.”

“Hell continues to baffle me sometimes,” He remarked as they approached the counter and get a closer examination of the machine, “Hello.”

The head was nothing more than a robotic eye with its yellow pupil staring him down as it tilted its gaze at them. “Welcome to the Macho Machine. What can I do for you?”

“I really don’t know what to get since coffee is not my general drink. Kiki, do you have any recommendations?” His real reason for hesitating to order was the automated mechanical voice that addressed him.

Soon the succubus presented two fingers. “Nice to see you again, V1. How about two ice cappuccinos, two bagels, and two chocolate donuts with sprinkles?”

“Two, two, two - coming right up,” said the machine as it started to walk to a machine behind it, brandishing two plastic cups before dispensing ice-cold coffee. It looked over its shoulder and spoke once more, “What do you want for your bagels?”

“Blueberry.”

Then it nodded its head and returned to gathering their order.

“Don’t know if you heard but Verosika got shot,” She said before stealing a look from the man disguised as a mechanical sinner.

Hearing that piqued his interest ever since the last time he departed from her mansion. “Shit, do you guys know who did it?”

“Yeah, turns out he works at I.M.P and fixes weapons for the assassination crew,” His stomach dropped upon hearing that sentence. What did the popstar have in store for his old companion, “I think I know who you’re talking about.”

“You know him?”

“We’re old acquaintances before we bit the bullet. Once we were close friends, then I tried to kill him and he tried to kill me. We’re on better terms now.” A bit of truth went a long way toward selling his sinful past but even mentioning it still hurt him.

Kiki raised an eyebrow before continuing. “Well, my galpal is trying to hook up with him.”

“Wait, what?”

To say that he was taken by surprise was an understatement as he looked at Kiki. Then the machine returned to the counter with their food and drink, earning their attention. “Who’s paying?”

Pavel did not hesitate to reach into the right pocket of his brown jacket and passed over the hard stacks of cash to the robotic owner of the cafe. For some strange reason, the machine seemed to express its suspicion upon him before receiving the payment and placing the money inside the cash register.

Once the transaction was complete, Kiki brought the supposed sinner to the red leather booth tables where they could see their ride outside. She reached for her packet and pulled out a blueberry bagel with cream cheese elegantly stuffed inside. “It’s odd. I normally don’t see V1 ever give people that look.”

“You think so?” He wondered, curious as to what her thoughts were about the machine and the history it had with Verosika, “How did that robot become your friend’s dad?”

“We were friends before she even got any fame in Lust. I was fortunate to have parents but Ver was another kid down on their luck. Fuck, I don’t think anyone would have thought that robot would adopt her given its history.”

The communist wondered if it was related to its creepy appearance. “Does it involve a bit of blood and violence?”

“You must be a recent sinner around these parts if you haven’t heard about the machine. There’s a legend that it was a prototype created during the War in Heaven to kill sinners and demons alike without any mercy. Us kids thought the same when it hunted these very streets.”

“Talk about terrifying,” He admitted unsure what to make with that information, only that the machine’s reaction to his presence was unsettling, “Did it somehow gain a conscious before adopting her?”

She nodded her head. “Verosika told me that it rescued her from some sharks down in Greed. Since then, it took over this place after killing the asshole who owned it.”

“Then I was considerably lucky that she didn’t send a death machine after me for stealing her car,” A small chuckle was let out, hoping to ease the tension in his mind about the potential clusterfuck his actions could have got him in.

“Come on, try this out..”

After her encouragement, the Russian reached for the plastic cup and took a sip from his drink. A minute passed as the energy in his body felt invigorated by a simple taste. Perhaps it was the ingredients that could only be found in Hell or maybe it was how V1 created it. All that Pavel knew was that his body could reach for the stars. His eyes trailed to the right and stared outside. Part of him wanted to make the date more enjoyable; however, he did not know how Kiki would react to his further advances.

A red dot shimmered against the glass before painting the laser on his person. It was here that his instincts took over as he reached over the wooden table and pulled her towards the white tile floor. “What the fuck?!”

Gunfire rang out as their booth was torn apart by gunfire a moment later. Glass shattered as he regained his senses and the adrenaline was pumped into his body. Someone was after him and they would pay for interrupting this rare moment of peace in Hell. Then his hand reached for the holster hidden underneath the jacket and pulled out a Grach pistol.

The bell rang as Pavel turned his head to the cafe entrance and saw a shark in a tuxedo slip through the door with a submachine gun in his hands and a cigar in his mouth. Then his eyes eagerly acknowledged the disguised sinner’s presence; however, the Purgatory investigator’s hand was quick to draw his gun and fire two rounds into the assailant’s cranium. As the body slumped against the doorway, he helped his date off the ground and pointed towards the counter.

They ran past the tables and jumped to the other side of the counter for its relative safety. “I am sorry this date turned into a firefight.”

“How many people did you piss off?” She wondered before looking at her dress, “Fucking damn it, going to have this checked out.”

Pavel looked around to see where the robotic barista disappeared given how little time had passed since the transaction. Was it part of the ambush? Nonetheless, they were in trouble and their ride was in the view of their killers. He took a moment to peek over the marble counter as he heard the entrance bell ring several times. Three sharks, two imps, and a boar in suits and ties had entered the cafe with automatic weaponry. One of them spoke in a Chicago accent and addressed the two. “The boss heard about you trashing his television store. Mr. Vox sends his regards.”

“Don’t you idiots know whose building you’re in? This is V1’s cafe!”

“Bitch, it’s fucking fairy tale,” The gangster replied, “There’s no scary death machine created by the ang-”

He was cut off by a loud blast that rippled from the back side of the kitchen into the table area. The Saved soul watched as the sinner in charge had his upper torso ripped apart by a pure blue energy blast before he heard the air get cut by the wings of a blue robot flying past them. Shock was all they could express before they focused their fire on the machine. Bullets rippled throughout the room as the ex-communist officer witnessed cold-calculated carnage beyond anything he had ever seen.

V1 somehow lunged toward the nearest demon with its red arm pulled back until it was in striking distance. An explosive punch reached an imp as the force of shotgun shells blasted through the victim’s torso within seconds, blood painting the clean floor. The others were quick to hip-fire their Tommy guns and spray the machine through a volume of fire. Unfortunately, it side-stepped and dodged their wrath, tossing aside its railgun and pulling out a revolver from its hip.

One of the gangsters was frustrated with the situation. “Kill it, kill it!”

The machine was not finished as it tossed three gold coins in the air for no discernable reason. What was the point of its tactic? Soon the pistol arm aimed at one flipping piece and fired. A single bullet ricocheted off the first throw as Pavel saw the bullet trail seek out the other two coins in mid-air. The saved was filled with awe and anticipation when the last throw bounced the round before accelerating through the remaining assailants. Their bodies exploded with blood and body parts raining from above, scattering across the cafe.

Kiki rose from behind the counter as the disguised soul followed suit. Then she remarked on the scene. “I told them… I fucking told them and they did not listen.”

“Well, it’s over,” He commented before looking over at their food and drink by the booth riddled with bullet holes, “I am sorry to have ruined the date.”

“You sound like you were the reason for this,” She turned her head and stared at him.

“Let’s just say I didn’t think there would be any consequences back then.”

“Neither of us expected this to happen,” Then the succubus walked over and kissed him on his metallic cheek, “Still, you tried.”

A warm feeling seeped through his veins as he appreciated her care. Their attention fell upon the machine in the room with red spots on its metallic frame as it shifted its focus toward the only customers in the building. Yet, Pavel could see the dents in the armor as the blood slowly disintegrated and impacts from the gunfire healed before his very eyes. Uhlman was going to need to hear about this when he returned to the safe house. “What an inconvenience. It will take some time before I clean this mess up. I hope both of you are alright.”

“We’re fine. Shame that you got to fix up our mess.”

“Worry not, I’ll work things out,” It answered, approaching the counter and tossing another coin from its crimson arm, “If you want, both of you can treat yourself to whatever is in the back before you go. That’s the least I can do. Just don’t tell Verosika. She already has enough on her plate right now.”

She chuckled before turning around and heading into the back kitchen. “These lips are sealed.”

Relieved of the fighting, the saved-in-disguise holstered his pistol and let out an uneasy smile towards the relic of the War in Heaven. Such artifacts of the past were rare and powerful, a symbolic way to convey greatness and horror. So for such a mere soul to be in the presence of one was an honor in itself. He thought about the cafe drinks but then V1 spoke at a lower volume, addressing him. “It is rare to be in the audience of the department.”

“Uh,” A cold chill ran through his spine, “What are you talking about?”

“That bracelet is not enough to hide what you are...investigator.”

He was speechless at the machine’s intelligence of seeing through the masquerade. “I… uh…”

“I no longer have his grace but worry not, your secret is safe with me.” The department was going to have a field day knowing that there was one in Hell that knew their secret. What was there to say than to acknowledge the Department of Purgatory’s presence in this dark realm?

Business at the Council of Archangels was continuing to be a weary affair. The High Marshal had grown tired of the incessant demands to mobilize troops and begin shaping operations against the denizens of Hell. Azrael continued to provide substantial efforts into finding the perpetrators of the attack but it was not enough to sate the desire for bloodshed. He wished it was so simple but despite it all, Lucifer was still his brother even if he fell from Heaven.

The archangel adjusted his black suit and red tie as he found himself standing in front of a train station within a large plaza of an empty town. It looked that way thanks to the efforts of the saved humans seeking to find comfort in their salvation. He was not one for appearances but if it kept them happy then it would keep them satisfied with their existence in the afterlife. After all, the head of the Holy Army appreciated its fruits whether it was the ability to develop weapons and vehicles or transport armies in a blink of an eye.

Few in the afterlife knew that this building was once the travel point between Heaven and Hell. The kenopsia of being present was enough to hurt him as he remembered the old days before his brother made his decision. This ghost town had not recovered since the days of the war, its inhabitants fleeing to better cities than be in the shadow of this relic. Some had called for its removal to avoid the blight on this kingdom of light; however, Michael was the one who had insisted on its maintenance should the day of reckoning come. The other reason was his unwillingness to kill the good moments in his life.

A tear fell from his eye as he recalled his younger days with Azrael. Lucifer would venture into Hell on behalf of the Lord while they would wait out in the plaza and snack. When their older brother returned, the trio would seek out a movie theater or visit the ice cream shop. Then they would return to their father and receive a disapproving discussion about staying out at night. Even then, he would remain positive about his son’s return.

It was not until Lucifer and their father disagreed on the fate of Hell’s existence. Michael remembered the arguments that were being laid out in favor or against the complete destruction of the dark realm. He should have seen it then when his brother would make secret visits to the one he fell in love with. Oh, how much bloodshed could have been avoided if they realized it then?

He strode forth towards the steps and made his way into the building. Even though there were cities whose skyscrapers could reach the endless skies, none would match the rail station towering over him. Upon reaching the main entrance, his hand wrapped in a white glove reached out for the doorknob but then he stopped. Hesitation took over him as reluctance discouraged the thought of personally meeting his brother down below.

A pair of armored sabatons landed gently behind his back. “Having second thoughts, again?”

“You know me, Gabriel,” Michael let out a deep breath as he turned around to greet his brother with a slightly warm smile. The archangel standing before him was encased in white and gold armor, his wings consisting of blue flames, and the front of his white helm a golden cross. “I thought you would be busy greeting the newcomers at the front of the pearly gates.”

“The latest meeting with the council was enough to convince me. Almost everyone is so eager to end Lucifer once and for all but you and I know the implications of that decision.” He replied with a concerned tone underneath his armor.

“A war akin to an apocalypse. We are so fortunate that Azrael is working overtime with that department of his.”

It was a hesitation that he hated to acknowledge but Heaven would find its existence at a crisis point if the situation ever escalated to that moment. The Archangel of Death had proved himself useful but hopefully, his investigations would produce easing results.

His mind lingered on the members of the council and recalled the Archangel of Destruction - Abbadon. Much earlier, he had personally insisted on the complete scale of extermination of Hell in their father’s name. His brother had not been satisfied by the yearly deployment of exterminators; however, the current attitude seemed to border on bloodthirsty. “I am worried for Abbadon’s sake. He is all too eager to wage war and slay Lucifer.”

“Should we discourage his thinking the next time we meet?” Gabriel asked of him as his hands rested on the hilt of his sheathed swords, “If needs be, I could convince him.”

“No. He would see you as a ruse by me. It would be better if he came to his own conclusions than for our… encouragement.” That particular archangel was a hard-headed one and even temperamental. So to even try would merely agitate him even further on the council.

“So what do you plan to do?”

Azrael needed time for his investigations and so he would give it to him. “Stall the idea of war as much as possible. Our father would appreciate such an effort, even for our fallen kin.”

Chapter Text

Blitzo leaned back in his chair as he sorted out the papers containing his income statements and balance sheets. Ever since his sinner employee took the gamble of sorting them out, I.M.P was in a better place than before, money-wise. Now not only could he afford to be spend-thrifty if he wanted to but the business wouldn’t be near the red zone if he tried. It was a blessing in its own right; however, the imp knew better than to be complacent. Once he finished reading through the accounts, he placed the sheets of his accounts flat across his desk knowing his latest employee had earned his value.

What concerned him was his ex-girlfriend showing up. Millie and Moxxie were already asking him about the kind of sex he had with that bitch of a succubus. Loona wanted to get an autograph from her, which was not a pleasant thought considering his relationship with his daughter. Then there was Railtracer being the target of Verosika’s desires. The history with the woman had come to haunt him and he was worried that she could take him away out of spite at any moment. His mind thought back to when their relationship was better than this but the imp felt that it was too good to last.

Then his phone rang as the ringtone was him screaming throughout his office before he quickly reached for the device and answered the call. “Immediate Murder Professionals, what can I do for you today?”

“I have a proposition for you,” A garbled voice of a man answered. It was one of those incognito machines that could prevent people from being recognized, “There is someone by the name of Lawrence Roy. Bastard backstabbed me and I scrounged up enough to pay you to return the favor. Tell him it was me, Bary.”

“Alright, is there anything else you would like to add? You’ll have to pay extra though if you want it.” If there was one perk about dealing with eccentric sinners, spite was a great way to throw their money his way.”

“Yes. Shove as many raccoons up his ass.”

The CEO of the assassin business widened his eyes in complete shock. He had heard of stranger things but this took the case. “You got it!”

Blitzo ended the call as he shuffled his papers back into his desk before jumping out of his chair and seeking the door. It swung open as his adoptive daughter was in her secretary chair while his other employees were playing darts with human pictures as targets. He stood in the doorway, earning their full attention.

“A client gave us another job. So get your gear people because it’s a special order!”

Moxxie and Millie went over to the arsenal room without question as Loona remained unaffected by the news. The Hellhound busied herself looking at her phone and watching what social media had in store but he did not mind that as the imp always encouraged her interests even when Moxxie complained about it. Yet, there was one person who was not present in this room.

“Loona, where is Railtracer?”

She stopped scrolling through her screen and pointed a finger toward the exit. “Smoke break on the roof.”

“Thank you Loony,” He said in an adorable tone as he walked over to his desk and expressed his love. She seemed annoyed while her eyes rolled, “Don’t worry, I’ll see if I can bring something back for you.”

“Unless it is a new metal album, I’m not interested.”

Once he accepted his daughter’s reply, the imp exited the offices where his business resided. As Blitzo stepped into the hallway, Hellborn and sinners were encountered, proceeding with their lives and ignoring his presence as usual. There was a time when he tried to advertise his business to them in person, but it merely alienated them from the front door. It was a shame, really but he accepted the reality that not everyone could be appeased. To his right was an open door leading into the stairwell and that path is what would lead him to the rooftops. He eagerly rushed past the bystanders and entered the series of stairs, hoping his employee would be waiting at the top.

When he reached the destination and stepped outside, his eyes took in his surroundings and saw only closed air vents and conditioners littered across the flat surface. Yet, the man he was looking for was not present. “Railtracer?”

“Up here,” Answered a tired Russian behind him but above. The CEO turned around and looked up to see the sinner sitting on the edge, his gas mask resting atop his head the flaming skull smoked the butt of a cigarette, “Anything you need boss?”

He nodded his head. “Yeah, we need to have a conversation.” Then the imp clambered up the walls with his claws and took a seat beside the sinner. “It’s about Verosika.”

“Don’t want me dating her?”

“You read my mind,” Blitzo answered as he slapped him on the back, “We both have a history as you saw earlier.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what happened between both of you?” Railtracer wondered before his gloved hands took the cigarette from his blue flaming lips.

He chuckled at the question. Just how exactly was he going to explain it to him? The imp looked up at the red sky and the stars above. “I took her credit card to get a chance at some horse lessons. Ended up maxing it out and she hasn’t forgiven me since.”

“I hate to openly say this but that does sound like an asshole move from you,” What right did he have to judge him? This was Hell after all and people were expected to have some degree of assholery involved. Then the sinner continued his thoughts on his actions, “Honestly, I can see why she would hate you now?”

“Careful now, I’m your boss.” Reminded Blitzo as his finger was pointed directly at the Russian on his left.

Railtracer shook his head as he breathed out the smoke that had been building in his lungs. “That may be but let’s look at it on a personal level.” He then smashed his cigarette into the concrete pavement before turning his head and focusing his attention on him. “You broke her trust. I would be the same in her position and you’re lucky she’s not openly going after you.”

“What would you know about it? Have any experience in breaking relationships?”

A small pause was left between the duo as the Russian lowered his head. “In some ways… yes. Whatever is going on between both of you, it has to end.”

“Why?” He demanded looking at the man beside him. The sinner seemed interested in his ex-girlfriend, “You seem to care about her.”

“I’m thinking of reciprocating her feelings.” Well shit, he liked the succubus.

“She’s not worth it.”

He spat on the ground below. “That is not for you to decide. I still want to work for I.M.P but if I want to pursue a relationship with Verosika, it would be nice if both of you tried to end that spat of yours.” His voice seemed genuine about it and Blitzo feared that possibility. She could take him away from his business venture but another person willing to entertain his dreams.

It was a surprise to see this sinner have this stance. “You genuinely like her, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Came the answer, “Being in Hell… I can never go back to my old life. That connection has been severed from the moment I let out my last breath. Verosika seems like a new beginning for me.”

“You know, it would have sounded like you never belonged here in the first place.” That was a deep conversation the CEO had with him. There was a feeling of dealing with someone who was complicated and it thrilled him.

There was never a chance to reply when Moxxie’s voice called out from the stairwell. “Blitz! We’re waiting on you.”

“Okay, we’ll talk about you going out with my ex after we do this job. You understand?”

Railtracer nodded as he enclosed his flaming skull by sliding his gas mask over his face. “Crystal.”

There was nothing left to say as everything had been said. Soon the Hellborn assassin slipped off the top of the stairwell roof and went to work.

Valentino, Vox, and Velvette sat in the movie theater watching a movie about a Greed shark backstabbing his peers to get revenge on his old business partners. Normally, this room would be reserved for the porn scenes but there was still enough downtime since extermination day to restart the business place. The comedy had given the trio one massive smile as they watched a Greedling chop an imp in the confines of a meat-packaging room. The lustful moth smiled while the cigarette smoke reached up into the skies.

His enjoyment did not end there as he blew the smoke from his lungs and commanded the red trails underneath the skirt of the girl sitting beside him. Unfortunately, she hit his right shoulder with a backhand. “Not here, Val! We’ll do it after the movie is over. You got to let me build up.”

“Sure thing, babe,” He replied as looked at the theater screen with a snickering giggle. An imp had been laid across a table as a Greedling towered over him, knife in hand, “You would think he’d go for the saw.”

“Nah man, this one’s personal. I want the bastard to use the spoon he’s got in the back.”

Minutes passed as they watched the Hellborn shark step away from his victim to look over his next set of tools for torture. Then the movie was paused as the trio expressed growled their frustration at the interruption.”

“Alright, who the fuck decided to end the fun?!” Velvette demanded as she stood from her seat and turned around to the movie projector. Valentino and Vox looked over their shoulder as the light flickered and began to shut down.

The theater lights turned on with the overlords glaring at the person standing behind the projector. Yet, there was a sense of surprise as their eyes adjusted to the new lighting with an imp walking past the projector, his hands resting into his pockets and a business jacket resting over his shoulders. He adjusted his fedora and smiled, allowing a golden tooth to shine. “Well, well, well… Good to see that you three are enjoying your evening.”

“Crimson?” The overlord between Valentino and Vox expressed her surprise as she walked out from among the seats and stood in the aisle, “What do you want?”

“Simple. I’m here to report that my people tried to perform that task you three asked of me.”

“Is that it? You got the target?” There was something strange about this meeting as an associate of theirs reached into his pocket and produced a large cigar.

His jovial appearance came to an end when he brandished a lighter and began to smoke. “Did any of you do your research?!” The mob boss demanded of the trio, “I sent a crew to kill a sinner and his broad, not fight a fucking weapon of the War in Heaven! Do you have any idea how much this set me back?”

Valentino rose and turned around. That was newsworthy but quite shocking. The artifacts of the past were rare and dangerous. Yet, they were also difficult to obtain if they were not scavenged by the ranks of Lucifer’s own forces or the Ars Goetia. “How were we to know that is what you’re up against? We paid you to handle it yourself.”

“I did and look where I am right now,” He replied filling the movie theater with smoke.

“So we’re all in a pickle,” The moth admitted as he leaned against the chair behind him and started brushing his chin, “What exactly do we need to get rid of an old war machine from that era?”

“There are some connections in my pocket. Some of the bluebloods don’t take a liking to our kind but give them something worth their time, they’ll help us with our little problem. My boys get avenged, your target gets killed, and the people sitting on top of us are fine and happy.”

Vox adjusted his tie and increased the volume of his television head. “So who do you have in mind that will help us?”

“It will take a few business days,” Crimson said as he chewed on his cigar. “But the dame’s name is Stella.”

The princess of Hell and her girlfriend were together in the hotel’s library. They sat together on the couch, reading their books as a bag of donuts lay on the coffee table in front of them. From the moment they fell in love, Charlie and Vaggie were inseparable from each other’s company with one bringing hope and the other tempering expectations in the relationship. Her highness busied herself reading a human novel called ‘War & Peace’, its themes fascinating her as the hours were spent in a world that was beyond her own. Yet, she could not help herself from being distracted by the sight of her beloved putting down a book to reach for the white bag in front of them.

Vaggie’s hand pulled out a chocolate-covered sprinkled donut and eagerly took a bite. She chewed for several minutes, savoring the taste before swallowing the piece. “I’m not fond of expressing this but part of me is glad that I don’t have to worry about my weight in Hell. Say, how did you get a sweet tooth?”

“Mom said I took it from my dad,” Answered the royal of the dark realm, “Apparently, he had a thing for presenting sweet gifts to others and it kinda rubbed onto me. She also said it’s how she fell in love with him when they first met.”

“That’s so sweet. Your dad seems to be quite the romantic despite what he says about your idea.”

“You have no idea.” The princess wanted to return to her reading but the thought of her parent’s love broke her concentration. Her father was the sweetest figure in life but whenever Charlie brought up the subject of trying to get people into Heaven, it would only anger him. She considered asking him about the past and what they did to earn his wrath; yet, the princess never dared to ask.

A door on the opposite end of the room had opened was the hotel’s servants and the royal’s personal aides entered the room. Two goat-like Hellborn entered the room and walked over to her, both carrying a plate silver platter holding up a red telephone. One of them spoke up with earnest care, “Your highness, a call from the palace!”

The other chimed in. “It’s your father. He wants to talk.”

Both girls sat up on the couch as Charlie knew the importance he had on her life, putting their books aside. The goats placed the telephone on the table and bowed before she smiled at their service. “Razzle, Dazzle, thank you.”

Her bodyguards bowed before her and made their way out of the room as Vaggie remarked on the timely moment. “What does your dad want?”

“I don’t know and that worries me,” The king of Hell looked down on her idea of redeeming sinners from the moment she brought it to his dining table. Her father’s disappointment weighing down on her shoulders ever since she left to make this project a reality. It was likely that he saw the news and her embarrassment, “Let’s see what he wants.”

She grabbed the phone and lifted it towards her ear. A tinge of fear crept at the back of her mind that dad would gloat at her failure to attract sinners or convince them to change their ways. Yet, Charlotte Magne Morningstar would put on a brave face regardless of his thoughts on the matter.

“Princess Charlie at the Hazbin Hotel, what can I do for you?”

The voice on the other side was coughing as if it was clearing the throat. Then her dad spoke with worry. “Charlie? It’s me.”

“Hey dad, I suppose you heard about that mess on the news network.” She admitted before turning her gaze towards Vaggie, “What did you want to call me about?”

“Your mother encouraged me to talk to you after we saw what happened. I’ve already expressed my displeasure with your dream but… are you okay?”

It was good to hear the man stop being the king of Hell and transform into her father. “Yeah dad, I’m alright for a bit,” Maybe he would be keen on hearing her progress at the very least? “It was not a total loss. I did attract a few sinners at my hotel though, even got an overlord to come over and help out.”

He chuckled on his end of the line. “Was he truly there to seek redemption?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Vaggie smiled knowing she was honest and upfront about Alastor’s machinations, “He was there for the company and to see the whole idea fail.”

“I see. Well, I’m thinking about paying a visit to your hotel at a later date.”

“Are you sure? I thought you hated this redemption hotel.” Charlie was taken aback by her dad’s announcement.

“I do,” He said with utmost honesty, “Yet, part of me wants to see what you have done with the place. I still own that hotel, you know.”

“Can you give me a week to prepare?”

“Of course, dear. Your mother sends you her love.”

A tear came from her eye. “Love you too, dad.”

They ended the call as Vaggie scooted over to her. “Hey, what did Lucifer want?”

“He’s coming over.”

“Oh,” Her girlfriend acknowledge before looking up at the ceiling, “It’s a good thing that Nifty is around to clean things up. Shouldn’t be a problem there.”

“We still have to worry about the people living here. Got to teach them proper etiquette when around my father.” She didn’t think much about it until now but the princess would have her work cut out when teaching them proper manners before they could return to their typical behavior.

The crew had been out save for I.M.P’s secretary and gunsmith. As the Hellhound tapped her fingers on the phone, she looked across her desk to find the sinner sitting on the couch, trying to attach a scope to the weapon with careful precision. He had an entire workshop to himself; yet, the sinner was tinkering in their lounge space. “Why are you doing this here when you have the armory?”

He ceased his installation and looked over to the Hellhound at her seat. “They’re occupied. Blitz decided it was a good idea to cover half of my workspace with a rocket launcher.”

“Ah, makes sense,” She added before focusing her eyes on the social media, “Say, do you have your own account on Sinstagram?”

“Eh, what?” The sheer confusion on his expression was enough to tell that he probably didn’t know what it was.

“I’ll take that as a no. It’s an app on your phone.”

Railtracer reached into his pocket and pulled out the device in his hand swiping through the information he had on hand. “Yeah, is it the one with the pentagram symbol on it?”

“Yep, that’s it,” Rather than watch the sinner trouble himself with a device he barely had a clue about, Loona jumped from her seat and across the desk to make her way over to the damned human. She towered over him and tapped the software application for him, “I want you to make your account start following I.M.P. Blitz will appreciate that.”

He turned his head and looked up at her. “What does this have to do with the company? It doesn’t seem related.”

“It’s free advertising. The more people follow the company’s webpage, the more we can raise awareness to new customers. That’s why I’m here behind my desk, I’m the only one savvy enough to get the attention of Pride.” The hellhound explained, hoping she wouldn’t need to write an essay to get her point across. She watched him tap on his screen several times before she saw the company’s logo on his phone.

“Ladna, so that is how it works. Thanks, glad I could help the boss out even further.”

It was rare for her to smile but Loona could sense his genuine thanks for her assistance. Rarely was it acknowledge in this office and often she would be agitated by the judgemental standards of Moxxie’s opinions. “You’re welcome,” Intuition took over as her instincts felt that Blitzo and his crew were ready to return from their latest assassination attempt, “Welp, they’re back.”

She returned to her desk where the Grimoire of an Ars Goetia was located as her ears picked up Railtracer tinkering with his guns. Then she heard his relief being spoken out loud. “Finally, I got the scope on here.”

The book on her desk was snatched as she opened the pages to the runes and inscriptions that would open the way between Hell and the human worlds. Even though she whispered the words to herself, they still contained power and it was one to be respected. Once she finished, a portal appeared within the office space as a bridge between two realities opened. The hellhound stole a glimpse from the sinner, whose gaze seemed fascinated as she walked over to the entrance to see her fellow employees and adoptive dad return.

Out from the mortal plane was Millie with a smile on her face. “We’re back!”

Animal instincts sensed danger as her nose captured the scent of two complete strangers nearby. She looked through the portal to find Blitzo and Moxxie turning around the corner in an alleyway as a human in a black suit and tie chased after them. Loona could not recognize the weapon he had in his arms but the young woman was taken aback when another human rappeled from the rooftops and descended in between the portal and the rest of the crew. “Shit, we’ve been found!”

Humans were never meant to know about the denizens of Hell and those living within that Dark Realm should have known better than to seek out the humans on Earth… or multiple Earths. In this instance, there was nothing to be done but then Railtracer ran past her and fired his rifle from the portal entrance. Three shots rang out as the human standing between them was struck in the arm as she took refuge behind a trash can. “Comrade-boss, get in. I’ll cover you.”

For a brief moment, she caught sight of her dad’s fear before he turned to her with resolve. “Loona, close it!”

This was a day she feared would happen but the daughter knew what was expected of her. Millie turned around and tried to help but the lips of the grimoire’s wielder were faster. In a blink of an eye, the portal closed on Blitzo and Moxxie as the third member of the hit squad jumped forward and smacked into the wall the portal took place. The imp’s hands slammed against the wall repeatedly as she unleashed her frustration while holding back the tears.

Then the sinner beside her lowered his weapon and turned around. “Why did you close the portal? They were right there.”

“Because Blitz ordered me,” Loona had her reasons and one of them involved her dad thinking about the possibility of getting caught. She didn’t think much of it then but now the goth girl understood while standing in this room, “He expected something like this would happen.”

“We need to rescue them.” He replied as he walked over to imp crying her heart out.

What right did he have to make an initiative? More importantly, he should have known better than to make that statement. “We’ll rescue him but you can’t help. You’re a sinner, do you know how much trouble you would bring if we went back?”

“You’re talking about consequences? In a business where everything we do is illegal? To hell with that, I’m helping out no matter what,” The sinner replied as he knelt and helped the poor girl up, “Millie, it’s okay. We’re going back for them. Why don’t you get the duffle bag and start snatching as many weapons as you can from the armory?”

The imp wiped her tears as she struggled to walk towards the other room. “You better make that portal running as soon as we’re finished packing.”

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll open up that portal, right?” He looked over his shoulder and the glass eyes looked at her.

Loona was not one to fully express her emotions but seeing Millie saddened by her separation from her husband was enough to put weight on her heart. Then she looked at the damned soul stand as he reached for his phone and started tapping away. “What are you doing.”

“I am making a few calls,” He answered while the hellhound noticed his proficiency with swiping and tapping the screen had increased, “This could go wrong but if it does, I know a few people who owe me some favors.”

She did not know why but the sinner standing in front of her brought more questions than answers as he made his call.

Few people in Heaven rarely admitted to liking the entertainment made in Hell. Though, almost everyone would not have expected the Archangel of Death to be listening to a song made by a succubus within the confines of his own office. Azrael leaned back in his armchair as he listened to the seductive voice of none other than Verosika Mayday. Despite her origins, he had to admit that she knew how to make music when it was time to go into the bone town. As the archangel appreciated the lyrics, he enjoyed himself by carefully eating a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles while crumbs spilled onto his black robes and suit.

His gaze fell upon the computer screen where the human disguise of a pop star was walking on stage, singing to the crowd. Then she brandished a loose pair of red-laced panties out from her pink blouse and tossed it into the crowd in front of her, causing a commotion among the audience. Witnessing that act made him let out a minute of laughter at the woman’s act of sexual freedom while taking another bite from his donut. He would not doubt that his secretaries would hear his joyful moments outside his office.

The archangel’s door swung open as Tony entered the room with his black chest plate and brown trenchcoat over. “We got a problem!”

It was an unfortunate moment for Azrael to have the volume settings where it was as Verosika’s voice shouted to the crowd, “Who wants to see my tits?!”

“Am I interrupting, boss?” The saved seemed disappointed at the current viewing before the Grim Reaper felt a sense of embarrassment. Then his bony fingers reached for the buttons on his keyboard and switched to a different website, “Really?”

Thank goodness that his subordinate didn’t see his face under the hood because he was caught red-handed. Though, it was ironic given his appearance as a sentient skeleton wrapped in a business suit. “What was the problem?”

“The investigator taskforce that we’ve assigned to our priority objective on the missing shipment - one of their guys is assisting the infamous group of Hellborn to rescue Blitzo and one of his employees from the mortal realms. No one has disguises worth a damn aside from the CEO’s daughter. More importantly, they’re up against a group of demon hunters.”

“How aware are they about the existence of Heaven and Hell?” He wondered, rising from his chair and wiping the crumbs to the floor. It was time to get serious and he intended to visit the command room. Then he grabbed his bag of donuts on the table and exited the office with Tony keeping up with his pace, “We cannot let this group interfere or stall that particular crew from proceeding with their mission objectives.”

“Uhlman has been notified thanks to Artyom’s giving him a call but he’s already with the rest of I.M.P to rescue his pals.” Tony added while they walked past the rows of secretaries continuing their work despite this conversation. Yet, hearing the latest report about the situation only made Azrael stop in his tracks and let out a deep breath. There was no time for a casual stroll with what he was dealing with.

The Archangel of Death stopped in his tracks and turned halfway to see Tony confused at this moment. He tossed him the white bag as his right hand reached out to the doorway to his office and snapped his fingertips. Bones crackled as a scythe flew out from the confines of the room, almost hitting a secretary out of her seat, approaching Azrael with immediate haste before the shaft landed in his palm. “We have no time for walking.”

“Why am I holding your donuts?”

“This is why,” His left hand reached towards the saved’s shoulder as he raised his staff and tapped the floor. In a blink of an eye, the duo was immediately in the command room looking at multiple communication officers and technicians operating their computers as a large screen was presented to the Grim Reaper, “Donuts.”

Tony passed the bag into his free hand as he shuffled away from the archangel’s side. He looked over his shoulder to see the former courier of the Mojave Wasteland run for the trashcan and puke into the void inside. No blame could be had on him since the ability to teleport at will was a gift granted only to him before the existence of the department came to be. While the Isra network was stable enough for his investigators, Azrael rarely employed this technique on his subordinates as it always brought nausea. Once his second-in-command finished hurling his stomach, his mouth had a moment to talk. “And there goes my lunch.”

“Ignoring our sudden arrival, someone track my disguised investigator and his Hellborn companions. Now.”

It was a surreal experience to be out of the realm of Hell and among the living. Yet, the issue of it all was traversing through the alleyways of a city, one that had not been touched by the horrors of the nuclear apocalypse. From the run-down backstreets to the vibrant lights in the skyscrapers, Artyom’s gas mask was what kept his amazement from spilling out to the others. Even a mere glimpse at a shop’s displays filled him with wonder and curiosity until the former stalker and Polis Ranger were reminded of his true purpose when the two Hellborn - a disguised hellhound in a human form and an imp - stopped by the corner of a brick building.

Loona peered around the right side of the alley for a brief minute as she kept the duffle bag slung over her shoulders from shaking around. Millie rested a large and long battle axe on her shoulder, making sure she did not tap the blade against the wall. As he caught up with his companions, the hellhound raised her hand toward those behind her. “I think we’re here.”

Artyom walked past Millie as he joined I.M.P’s secretary and looked down the road to see an apartment-sized building several buildings ahead. The front was almost fenced off as guards armed with spears were protecting the entrance; however, he looked up to see lookouts on the rooftops manning the searchlights to the street below. If he was back in the ranks of the Spartan Order, they would have mocked the defensive capabilities of that building. “They made it so easy to let us find them.”

“We can’t go through the front but there is bound to be a side entrance,” The teenager beside him remarked, “Let’s see if we can find a fire emergency exit.”

“You guys go do that, I have a better idea.” His gaze looked up at the roof of the building labeled ‘D.H.O.R.K.S.’ as he figured the guards wouldn’t expect an attack from the rooftops and seeing that they were armed with melee weaponry, the disguised investigator knew he had an advantage at range.

“You’re splitting up? What if you get caught?”

She had a good point and it was one earned in experience. There was always a misfortune at being locked in a cell or tortured by his captors but Blitzo needed a way out and he was here to provide. “Gruppa krovi. Now is there a way to get up to the roof?”

“Yeah,” Millie said as the sinner and hellhound turned around to find the imp tapping a fire escape ladder from above with her weapon as the rusty hinges released and extended the ladder downwards, “If he’s on the roof, he can cover us while we make our way inside.”

“Spasiba.” He answered as the Russian walked over to the ladder and climbed halfway up. His head turned to steal a glance at the others.

“Off to rescue my husband and your boss. Let’s go Loona, they’re probably interrogating them as we speak.”

There were no words left to say as the saved disguised as a sinner reached the top of the ladder. To his right was an open window where a boy no less than the age of ten was looking at him in a family room, his television playing cartoons behind him while his lips and fingertips were covered in orange powder. This was the first time someone on this mortal plane saw him and he didn’t know what to do from now on. Yet, he decided to give the child a wave of his hand, only for the kid to return the same gesture. Then he proceeded up the fire escape. Artyom was not sure if the boy was going to remember him; hopefully, he wouldn’t cause a traumatic moment in his life.

His pace up the steps had allowed him to reach the rooftops in the span of five minutes before his footsteps landed on proper concrete. Thanks to the urban environment around him, the other sections of the neighborhood were accessible… so long as he made the jump. Despite his experience with zip lines, he was not a man who enjoyed great heights but sometimes situations demanded complete disregard for his fears.

The saved made a running start with the hope that he would have the stamina to make it across the five alleys with little trouble. It was stupid but so were his other plans in life. As the black abyss approached, a silent prayer was made to grant him a chance to survive the stunt. Artyom lept forward once the edge was near as his feet dangled in the air. He felt complete freedom at that moment but also vulnerability as his body felt gravity play its role on him. Yet, the ground of the second rooftop alleviated his worries while he continued the momentum.

Relief and confidence took over as the ex-soldier continued to make his way toward the D.H.O.R.K.S. building. His eyes looked to his right to see him running in parallel to the duo in the alleyway below. Loona looked over her shoulder and saw him before proceeding to pick Millie off the ground and rush forward.

He made another jump across his second alley but the landing made his rifle jingle. Then his eyes looked over to the guards ahead of him, who seemed alerted and suspicious about the latest noise. One walked over to the searchlight and manually directed the beam in his direction. There was no cover save for the depression of the rooftop and the short walls. His body hit the ground and committed to making himself flat as possible while his head turned and looked up. A yellow glimmer flew over him as he patiently waited for the guards to stop investigating for a moment. Hopefully, it would give his companions ample opportunity to get past their view.

The guard scanned the rooftops for several minutes as he patiently waited. When the light moved on and continued on its normal trajectory, Artyom raised his head over the short wall and saw the sentries return to their duties. He pushed himself off the ground and quickly proceeded to get over the alley ahead of him with haste. His hand reached for the carry handle of his M4 while the free hand reached for the collection of knives on his kevlar vest.

There was only one alley to cross before he reached the guards face-to-face. It was so easy to think about picking them off from his position but without a silencer on-hand, he would only alarm the local guards, jeopardizing the chances of his coworkers at rescuing their companions. With his throwing knives ready, it would give him more time to operate stealthily. The Russian’s fingers reached for a blade as he anticipated his final leap across the buildings.

A guard by the front searchlight continued to scan the streets below until he raised his head and finally noticed his approach. By the time the saved made it to his destination, an instinctive reactive throw was all he needed to end the redhead’s life in a blink of an eye. As his body slumped to the ground and the Purgatory investigator looked to the other three guards who have yet to notice as they were facing away from their dead comrade and the entrance into the building. The left arm swiftly threw knife after knife with careful precision, causing man and woman alike to succumb to their mortal wounds. Part of him felt regret at taking human life as a dead man but his mission was a priority.

Artyom approached each of the bodies and retrieved his blades for reuse. Old habits of the post-apocalypse called to him and, once more, he would perform the bloodshed. After the last knife was returned to his inventory, he walked towards the flight of stairs at the center of the roof. Hands reached for the trigger and the grip while descending into the top floor with silent steps.

Low-lit corridors waited for him at the base of the stairs. He raised his weapon and found himself in a massive weapons room but he observed his surroundings to etch every single detail into his mind. The racks and piles contained various melee arms belonging to various periods of human history. He had no interest in weapons such as these and even found them useless when compared to the qualities that a knife could bring into action. Yet, he thought about the individuals earlier, who merely armed themselves with this strange collection. If most of them were equipped with this gear, he would have to deal with Blitzo’s captors in melee.

It was quite the predicament for his case. “Well, I might need something… longer.”

A slight glimmer of white light appeared from the corner of his eye as he shifted his body to the left and saw a sword glowing amongst a pile of blades stuffed in a barrel. Curiosity got the better of him as the saved soul strode past the organized rows of weapon racks and approached it. There was this sense of finding an object that felt special, differing itself from the others until he was close enough to see lines of pure white etched from the handle into the snake-like craftsmanship.

What was a blessed weapon doing in a place like this?

His question would never be answered as the dark-lit areas of the armory were plastered in rotating red lights. Alarms blared throughout the building signifying an intruder on the premises as the loudspeaker roared through the building. “We have demons in the building. I say again, we have demons in the building.”

What did not help was the sound of footsteps approaching the room from the outside. Artyom turned around to see the entrance slide open as three men in black suits and ties arrived. Their eyes were covered by their sunglasses. One man pulled out a sword, another brandished a spear, and the leader of the group pulled out nunchucks from his jacket. “Shit, we got one in the armory!”

His rifle lined up and shot the head of the trio with a single shot. The moment his foe fell to the ground, the other two stormed forward with haste. He shifted the sights onto the guard with the spear and fired two rounds into the man’s legs. The spearman screamed in agony and brought his polearm up. He leaned against the shaft as it was the only obstacle keeping him from collapsing. The final man closed the distance and committed his first attack with a right swipe of the blade. Yet, the dead Polis Ranger sidestepped the slash before kicking the assailant back for additional time.

He thought about the shiny two-handed weapon earlier and was quick to release the grip on his assault rifle and grab the weapon out of the barrel. When he returned to confront the swordsman, with a blade in hand, Artyom did not hesitate to make an overhead strike as he recovered. The weight was brought upon the stumbling foe before its length crushed into his chest as he started to cough up blood. His kill would suffer as the pretending sinner stepped on the man so his hands would have enough leverage to pull it out.

The wounded stranger with the spear was on the ground writhing in agony, his hands covering the holes placed on the kneecaps. It was cruel to inflict that kind of pain but an appearance had to be made. Then the victor of the fight approached him while the defeated raised his head with absolute terror on his expression. “Please, don’t kill me.”

Directions were needed and time was short. A quick interrogation was all he had left as the Russian held the bladed part covered in leather between the hand guard and the ricasso. Then he knelt on the ground. “Where do you keep your captives?”

“S-Second floor by the elevators!” He was afraid of him and the man had every right, “You shouldn’t miss it.”

“Good but this better not be lying or your soul is mine.” It was a great irony there given that he worked for the Department of Purgatory but looked like a sinner. Then again, the man would not know the difference between a sinner and a demon.

The investigator rose from the floor and strode out of the room. It would take some time before he reached the second level and he was sure there would be guards to stop him. He hoped the carbine would work for him until he got there. Then his eyes looked down to see the two-handed sword no longer in his right hand. Artyom wanted to ponder about its mysterious disappearance but he would worry about that until Blitzo and Moxxie were rescued. A quick look at his surroundings revealed a directory to his right that went to the elevators; however, the left path of the hallway gave a different option - the generator room.

It would prove inconvenient for him if he sabotaged it but also make it incredibly difficult for the organization occupying this building. A split-second decision was made and the servant of Heaven turned to his left.

Two imps were tied up in their chairs as the humans isolated them in an interrogation room. Blitzo expected that someone would start asking him questions; however, they were left alone for an unknown amount of time. He didn’t know what to expect, only that he could not wait to kill his captors. Everything changed when they heard alarms scream beyond the only door in front of him. Men and women were screaming outside but his ears perked up at hearing the clash of blades.

Someone has come to rescue them.

The assassin looked over his shoulder to find the well-dressed imp looking in the opposite direction. "Hey, it seems like we're getting rescued. Who'd you think it is?"

"It could be Millie," Moxxie answered as he looked back to see his face, "but I am a bit worried she might get herself caught as well."

"You worry too much about her. Knowing that woman, it takes an elephant's foot to keep her down and I would still put my money on her." Blitzo assured his nervous assistant. His employee was attached to his wife but the boss felt that he was too clingy at times. It made him smile at that moment, knowing that part of him didn’t have the right to criticize since he always shoved people away from his heart. He was not vocal about his vulnerabilities but the imp sure knew that putting those feelings on the lid helped him out.

The hitman behind him had his fingers exploring the ropes around their wrists. “Give me a second, sir. I know how to untie this knot.”

“Personal experience?”

His co-worker let out a chuckle as the ropes were losing their tension but had yet to be untied. “Afraid not to say.”

“So you do play those kinds of games in the bedroom?” He said in an amused tone, “No wonder why you’re so good with ropes.”

“Does Stolas do this with you?”

“We are not getting into that conversation.” It was an instinctive reply in that he did not know how to properly answer that question. Even he did not know what to make of that relationship.

The door in front of him was knocked once and Blitzo turned his head to see who was coming. It certainly was not their captors since they did not need to breach through their own door; however, he anticipated that their rescuers were about to break them out. Suddenly, the lights shut down all manner of sight disappeared.

“Fuck, I’m blind. Moxxie, are you finished?”

All that the imp could feel was his friend tugging against the ropes. Then he felt his wrists free once again as relief showered over him. “Here we go, I don’t know how we’re going to get out.”

A red light was emanating from a small slit underneath the entrance as the cries of men and women grew louder. Monstrous howling rippled through the halls before the door crumbled like tissue and the head of a bird-like creature slipped its neck inside. An owl’s face was staring back at him while Blitzo looked over his shoulder and saw Moxxie hiding behind his shadow. “Blitzo, I see that you’re safe.”

“Stolas?” It took him a moment to recognize the mannerisms of an Ars Goetia but it was quite clear that his… close friend… had come to personally rescue him, “How did you-”

“I have my ways, my plaything. My people are clearing up this building as we speak.”

The imp blinked once before he watched the monstrous form of an oversized eagle transform into a regal nobleman of Hell. His attire was clean he straightened his back and stood tall.

“Let’s head back to your workplace.”

Past the high-ranking creature were Hellborn soldiers clad in red suits of armor. Squads ran past their room with glowing blessed weaponry as gunfire and the shouts of orders echoed throughout the building. Stolas turned around and reached forward before his hands split a hole in reality that led into the office of I.M.P. “Hey, thanks for rescuing us.”

“I could never let them lay a finger on you,” He replied as Blitzo and Moxxie followed him through the portal and returned to the massive table where the plans were made for assassinations. Upon arrival, he could see Millie run towards them until she landed in her husband's arms and the two hugged each other with joy. The CEO smiled at that cherished moment as Loona approached and picked him up to do the same. It came to an end when his lover continued, “Unfortunately, the honest quest to rescue you from the demon-obsessed has created unintended consequences.”

“What are you talking about? You know I run an illegal business in the afterlife. What exactly did I do wrong?” It was a question he wanted to know dearly as his head turned to see Stolas close the portal on his way in. The owl’s happiness shifted into a saddened expression on his face.

“Your employee - the sinner. My people have put him under arrest.” Hearing that news made him pause as the imp grew concerned about the man’s fate. Aside from being a useful sinner, he had treated him as one of his own in the company and all it did was demand questions. He jumped out of his adoptive daughter’s arms and approached him. “A cardinal sin has been broken. No sinner is allowed to leave the level of pride and there is a harsher punishment for those who have found their way to the mortal realms.”

Chapter Text

Stella hated it when her husband ran off to find entertainment for himself. It was an embarrassment and a public disgrace to her standing among the Ars Goetia. She found it very difficult to enjoy the lavish parties while hearing the rumors and whispers of her peers expressing their sorry apologies or remarks about the misfortune of fate ever since Stolas openly admitted to sleeping with an imp. This marriage should not have happened in the first place but she swallowed her pride when her father explained that it would have strengthened the powers of her family the longer she tolerated his antics. Once she bore the child, agreed upon between him and Lord Paimon, the strong-willed woman could go her separate ways. Despite it all, the lady found moments of joy at the expense of her supposed significant other.

The wife of the manor strode through the hallway with a tall and regal composure. With docile carnivorous plants on her left and official family portraits on the right, the owl contemplated the future of her position within the family. Octavia showed absolute indifference whenever those ‘conversations’ with her father rose. So it was a small blessing in disguise and the woman intended to take advantage of those emotions since it would be easy to dispose of him. She approached the path leading into the kitchen as thoughts about the perks and responsibilities laid on her shoulders the moment his death came to fruition.

Once at the doorway, she found the pathetic excuse of a noble trudging away from the refrigerator with a bowl of milk and cereal in his hand. Dark puffs under his eyes were noticeable as the man was on his phone talking to someone while making his way toward the table on the other side of the room. Simply seeing him made her blood boil as she forgot her mannerisms and stomped her feet toward him. He supposedly had been out for work last night but it was probably an excuse. Stolas always had an excuse so he could enjoy galavant pleasures of the flesh with the plebians of Hell. “Where did you go last night?! Did you decide to meet with another imp for some frivolous sex or just get away from me this time?

“Not now,” He said while looking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of her expression as he casually took his seat at the head of a table. Then he ignored her and returned to the conversation he had on the phone. “Apologies, my wife walked into the room.”

“Address me right now.” It was not normal for her to be ignored like this. He was always weak-willed whenever her wrath was let out but this was perhaps the one moment she was not taken seriously. Such behavior was unthinkable in her eyes; especially, when he displayed complete disregard for social order and expectations of the Ars Goetia. More importantly, he needed to be reminded that she was the one in control no matter the cost. Even a hint of personal agency had to be dominated by her will.

“Dear, I am busy so will you please go somewhere else.”

The fact that he had the ounce of courage to even say those words, infuriated her. Normally, he would be weak-willed and attempt to appeal to her better nature lest the rage continued. Now? He was genuinely resisting her authority within this marriage of theirs. She looked at his phone and thought about making his life more miserable than before. Soon the woman snatched the device out of his hands, witnessing the shock on his face. It was a delicious moment to spite him. “Whoever the fuck you are, stop trying to get my husband to suck your cock!”

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!” Stolas expressed his horror as he rose from his seat.

“I do. That should get your attention to listen to me. I am someone you should never ignore in your life. Do you understand me?”

Her spine felt a strange chill as she noticed the feathers on their bodies begin to size up from underneath their clothes. It was a strange moment as the kitchen darkened and a haunting howl of the wind seeped into the room. A minute passed before the surrounding atmosphere returned to normal but the owl knew something terrible had befallen them. Stella did not know what it was until a commanding voice spoke from behind their backs. “Am I interrupting something personal?”

Husband and wife turned around to find a fallen archangel in a white suit and a red-striped vest. At his side was a cane with a red apple planted at the top. Stolas scrambled out of his chair and bowed at the presence of his liege as the woman of the house could barely express her shock. “You’re majesty, how did you get here?”

“Do people really forget that I’m an archangel around these parts? I should get out more often if that is the case,” He stated with annoyance as the palm of his hand rested on the top of the apple cane. Then his eyes trailed towards her, fiery eyes containing his absolute judgment, “I was holding a conversation with your husband about some important matters before you took the phone and made quite the statement.”

“I-I didn’t know it was you on the phone.”

“You have caller ID. That is no excuse.” To see the look of disappointment on his face was enough for Stella to realize how much her rage had cost her against Stolas. Blood in her cheeks began to warm, containing her embarrassment before lowering her head in shame. Then the ruler of Hell turned to the husband while her head gently looked up and caught a glimpse of his graceful stride.

He walked up to her husband and used his free hand to gesture to him to rise. “I understand the tense relationship you have with the members of your family. So, I will make this short. There is a sinner you have in the cells, one who broke one of our well-defined rules last night. Bring me to him, we need to talk. This is not a chastisement as you’re simply performing your duty. It’s just that the individual in question is dealing with affairs above your status.”

Stolas nodded his head, acknowledging his superior. “As you wish, my men have him in the holding cells.”

“Good,” Lucifer answered with a satisfied smile on his lips, “Now I understand the official policy to provide unending punishment for those who break the rules; however, this instance is quite different. Order your men to leave him be, he must not be harmed under any circumstances.”

Stella remained quiet as she watched the weakling lead the sovereign of the dark realm into the dungeons underneath their home. The earlier fiasco was a mistake but one she would learn from. Nonetheless, the monarch’s arrival did not change the paradigm and plans she had in store for Stolas. All that was needed was patience for an assassin to make his move on a noble Hellborn. Once the contract was completed, the killer would receive his just reward and this family would be free from this absolute disgrace of a son and husband. The bloodline shall continue but without any immediate obstacles.

The arrest of a Purgatory investigator alarmed those who watched Artyom’s rescue of I.M.P’s CEO. The potential conflict was at hand as the Archangel of Death immediately returned to his office to discover a way to rescue the department’s own while maintaining the status quo of hiding Heaven’s agents among the denizens of Hell. Tony would have assisted his superior with coordinating the various safe houses throughout Pride. Yet, Azrael ordered him to focus on a much more mundane matter, the weapon that their disguised redeemed had picked up in a hideout full of demon hunters.

Courier Six pulled out a cigarette and a lighter from his trench coat, starting his smoke break in the confines of an elevator. If the Grim Reaper felt concerned about such a slight detail, then he knew it was important to seek out the information. What it was, he would find out soon enough when his ride reached the Librarian’s floor. Few members of the department had access to such a location due to its vast archives containing valuable knowledge such as the names of sinners who had been designated as ‘Angel Slayers’ or top secret documents about the existence of secret and magical conclaves living throughout each reality of Earth.

Once the elevator stopped and its doors opened, the wastelander walked out and found himself in the shadow of book aisles, each perfectly organized as far as the eye could see. One could get lost here and a great deal of people have gone missing trying to find obscure files and boxes hidden away. In front of him was a front desk occupied by a man in a white shirt, black tie, and a brown trench coat. The individual was focusing his full attention on the desktop computer on his left as he reached out for an open pizza box on the counter for a slice. Behind him was a sign stating that it had been thirty-six days since a person had been declared lost in the library. He greeted him in an English accent. “Hello, my name is Detective Hannigan, formerly of Scotland Yard. What can I do for you today?”

“You did receive the footage we sent you earlier?” Tony hoped that this man reviewed the video with the hope of saving time before proceeding with his current mission. One could lose hours trying to find a book on this floor and it was a commodity that he could not afford.

“I skimmed through it but my girlfriend recognized the sword instantly,” He answered with an approving nod as he looked up from his desk with tired bloodshot eyes, “From what she says, it’s a blessed zweihander. Ironically, this would be under my purview since I dabble in a bit of druid lore.”

He took a quick whiff of his cigarette before reaching out and taking the pizza from his desk. “You don’t mind?”

“It’s fine. The people from the mess hall are constantly giving me a box every day.” Once the assurance was made clear, Tony took his share and took one large bite.

“So to give a bit of context, the two-handed sword came into existence during the Thirty Years’ War. Germanic druids found a way to get this weapon to be blessed by the angels before they handed it off to some nobleman in the various battles. Since then, it has been lost to time and it’s likely that the D.H.O.R.K.S picked up given their enjoyment for Edo-period Japanese weaponry.

The Courier was not one to criticize but he knew damn well that those mortals were outmatched the moment their building was infiltrated by a sinner and the Hellborn. Simply seeing how they set out to face them in melee until Blitzo’s crew killed them was enough to scoff at their stupidity and part of him wondered if he could ask them a few questions since their souls were assuredly processed through an army of office workers. He put that thought at the back of his mind as he swallowed the food in his mouth and made a question about Artyom being able to make the blessed two-handed sword appear out of thin air. “Any reason why one of our own would be able to make it disappear like magic?”

“I can, actually,” Hannigan answered as he typed into his computer, “The weapon has a unique feature where it will attach itself to a user if it deems him or her, worthy as a service weapon.”

“Interesting.” The phrase ‘service weapon’ had a unique meaning to his ears. After the Department of Purgatory had settled an agreement with the Federal Bureau of Control, Tony spent some time working in conjunction with these specific mortals and the jargon they spoke among themselves. If the zweihander was a service weapon, then his Russian coworker would possess it permanently. However, it also meant that the man would need to learn how to use a Renassaince-era blade if he had to keep it. The question was… who would be his teacher?

A redeemed disguised as a sinner laid down on his cot within the confines of his cold and dark cell. His eyes looked up at the ceiling, which was merely a catwalk where armored guards in crimson red made their casual patrols, the stomping rattling against the metal. One could hardly sleep when the sentries made their rounds but Artyom was not like most people. To the dead stalker, it was a relieving sound that he was in safe company and no mutant or unwanted wildlife would sneak up on him during sleep. Ironic, yet, it set him apart from the others within this great prison system.

He thought about earlier when he was passing through the other blocks. Men and women, sinner and Hellborn alike were eager to greet him as another victim in this fortress of a dungeon. Some were eager to treat him as another plaything, whether it was sexual harassment or a bully’s pride. The investigator remained hopeful in despite of the scenes of horrors, his mission with the lost weapon shipment was too great to ignore and it was likely that Uhlman would rescue him at some point in time. There was a slight consideration of making his own escape with that strange sword he quietly kept to himself; however, his unfamiliarity with the weapon meant his proficiency was at an all-time low. Until he could trust himself at wielding the blade, the dead Polis Ranger would have to endure this pit of senseless torture and agonizing screams, biding his time for an opportunity.

The cell block received a new visitor and his ears could not tell if it was a new prisoner coming in or another unfortunate being dragged out. All that he did know, in his short time here, was that the prisoners who left were never expected to return. A pair of armored feet shuffled against the concrete as Artyom’s stomach churned at his approach. His eyes looked past the bars in the hallway, seeing the other denizens keep as much distance as they could from the on-coming soldiers. An aura of fear took over but the post-apocalypse survivor clenched his hands into a fist and slowly breathed in through his nose before releasing that air by opening his lips.

A tall armored figure stopped at his cell and turned her European Medieval helmet towards his direction. Black slits were etched into the face of the head encased in steel, showcasing the guard’s focus. In a strange anachronistic fashion, the unknown individual had a holstered pistol strapped to his side. Then a voice of a woman directed her disdain towards him. “Prisoner Six-Two-Seven, you have been summoned. Stand up and put your hands against the wall.”

“Don’t listen to the bitch!” Shouted a prisoner in another cell, “You don’t have to take shit from nobody.”

“Shoot him. I don’t have time for his bullshit,” Artyom rose from the sleeping furniture and obeyed without hesitation. As he planted his palms against the wall on his left, a gunshot rang out before the unknown howled, “Turn around carefully with your hands up and approach me. Any sudden movements and I will have the authorization to put you down.”

He obeyed and approached the guard as the cell doors automatically slid open. As he closed the distance, the guard stepped to his left and placed her gauntlet on the pistol grip peeking out of the holster. She used her free hand to point him to move in the other direction before he exited his cell and had multiple lights shine on him from above. His eyes glanced up and saw two guards along the metal parapet aim their glowing white assault rifles at him. Even if he was to overpower the one beside him, his chances of escape were impossible under these circumstances. Soon he turned to his right and walked forward. There was a large door on the other side of the corridor and it was likely that he would be out of the line sight of the others if he tried to use his newly acquired sword.

Someone groaned on his flanks before he swiped a look at a cell on his left. An imp had been curled up, writhing in pain as his blood seeped out on the floor. It was a dark sight knowing that the people running this place would not heal his wound if they tried. Then he was interrupted when the collar on the back of his shirt had been grabbed before his body was shoved towards the door. “Eyes forward!”

It was a reluctant feeling to leave the man behind and let him suffer his own fate but real-life experience had taught Artyom to understand that he couldn’t help those in need if he was dead. Yet, the sight would leave a mark on his conscience as he arrived at the green metal door. Mechanisms on the other side began to spin and crank until they stopped and three loud bell rings blared through the speakerphone. Inside was a long rectangular table with one empty chair on his side of the room and another, occupied, one on the far side of the room. A handsome blonde figure smiled with one leg crossed over the other in the attire of a white suit with shades of red on the edges. He raised his top hat containing a pink serpent wrapped around while a cane attached to a red apple rested across his lap. “Guard, leave us.”

“Your majesty, are you sure you want to leave the prisoner with you? He may-”

“I know what I am capable of,” Commanded the well-dressed individual, “A single sinner is not going to change that. Now go.”

She shoved the prisoner inside before closing the door on her way out. Now it was just two people alone in a room. The person seemed familiar despite the dimly lit atmosphere but then memory came over him. Artyom recalled his time at the Hazbin Hotel and the various portraits on the wall. At the time, he did not seem to care at that moment until the Russian came to the realization of the one painting that showed Princess Charlie in the center with her mother on the left and father on the right. His eyes widened when he gazed upon the man in front of him. “You’re Lucifer.”

“Here I am in the flesh. Why don’t you take a seat, Railtracer?” The ruler of Hell leaned forward and extended a hand, reaching out to the empty chair at the center of the room. The investigator lowered his hands as he reluctantly approached and took his place from across the table.

“I suppose I am here because of what happened?”

“Yes,” Answered the Devil as his resting leg slipped off and his foot found a place on the floor. Then he grabbed his cane and brought it to his side where it stood up from the ground and with the palm resting on top, “We have a rule here in Hell, no sinner is allowed to leave the Pride level, whether it is for the other levels or to the mortal realms.”

He hoped that his reasons would be understandable; however, doubt took over and Artyom needed to test the limits of the man’s authority. “Even if I was helping a friendly Hellborn out?”

“Even if you were helping him out. Now I.M.P is under fire for their assassinations but I can overlook their crimes since they know how to clean themselves up after making themselves known. You, on the other hand, are not a Hellborn. So your punishments are far more severe.” The tone in his voice shifted into a serious warden lording over him but the very fact that he was face-to-face with the man who challenged the Heavens itself. Underestimating the monarch would be an end to his existence and so patience took over the prisoner’s mind, contemplating his situation.

Now that he was finished with the explanation of the imprisonment, it was time to test the waters. “So what do you intend to do now that I am here?”

“Fortunately for you,” His expression revealed a great smile before he let out a slight chuckle, “I know that you are not a sinner.”

“Excuse me?”

“The moment that you were arrested, my brother decided to call me about your plight. Isn’t that right, Azrael?” Artyom saw the shadows move on his right as the Grim Reaper himself joined the duo underneath the light. The beam shimmered over his face, briefly showing a human skull before disappearing into eternal darkness.

The Archangel of Death approached the table and produced a white bag from his robes, only to toss it on the table. “Donuts, anyone?”

“I’ll have a bite.”

It was a surprising moment since the previous encounter with the head of the department. There were no words to describe his complete disbelief as Lucifer reached for the bag and pushed the white bag over to the disguised saved. He considered the offer his superior brought but his first question was about the niceties between Death and his relatives. “What are you doing here?”

“He is actually the reason why this meeting had to happen,” Answered the ruler of Hell as Artyom gestured towards the white bag and the Grim Reaper passed the donuts on to him. Once he picked a chocolate-frosted one covered in sprinkles, Lucifer continued, “I wanted to get a good inspection of the department’s agent being planted at my daughter’s hotel.”

“For what purpose? I am not exactly special outside of my desire to get justice.” Came his reply before taking a bite from the sweet and sugary delicacy.

The monarch of the dark realm devoured his share and swallowed, clearing his throat for a response. “Brother, what is he talking about?”

“The saved sitting across from you is a survivor of the convoy attack,” Azrael answered in a serious tone as if he understood Artyom’s situation, “He is here to avenge a father-in-law who was killed there. I am here to oblige him with the hope his personal motivation would lead him to our suspects.”

“Even now, you have moments of frightening logic.” Remarked the fallen archangel as he stared at the robed figure in the room.

“Everyone always says that. My investigator will still be on his search with the others but he will be reassigned to your daughter’s hotel when not on a mission.”

The post-apocalypse survivor turned to his superior with absolute confusion. He was hoping to search for his assailants, not be relegated to guard duty. “Sir, couldn’t you put someone else in my place?”

“Unfortunately, no,” He answered plainly, “You are conveniently placed beside the hotel and the latest intelligence gathering has changed our calculus. Lucifer’s daughter is being targeted and you being an Angel Slayer would be the difference between saving and slaughter.”

“Will this interfere with my placement at I.M.P?” There was much responsibility being placed upon his shoulders if these two were here to change the direction of his objectives.

The king of Hell had spoken as he licked his fingers clean of the chocolate and sprinkles before reaching into his coat and revealing a badge on the flat surface of the table. “Not at all. If anything, your latest actions have brought you to my attention. By protecting my daughter, you’ll have my thanks, and more importantly, my authority to carry out your mission unimpeded.”

His hands slide the object over into the Russian’s side.

“Hell has its rules as much as Heaven but this will bypass all of that. If you ever need to get into the other levels of Hell, this badge will grant you the authority all sinners wish they had.”

He looked down and saw the intricate image of a bloodied hand carrying an upside-down red cross. Below the symbol was a phrase, ‘Nefas Mandatum’ as the saved looked up at Lucifer. “Are you sure this will work for me?”

“Yes. Any Hellborn worth their status and sinner their soul must acknowledge this badge. This is not a request that they can refuse but an order that must be obeyed. Otherwise, I will send someone to personally visit them.” Confidence and pride exuded from his tone; yet, Artyom was unsure of its full range of capabilities until he saw it in action. This was an escalation of means he had not expected but now it had arrived thanks to the head of the department showing up and saving him from his fate in these cells.

“So, what happens now?”

The devil rose from his chair and pointed his cane at him. “You are to come with me and visit my daughter. My wife and I planned to visit her when available. So it would be a fun trip to see what colorful characters she has recruited on her mad quest. Though, it is a shame that Azrael cannot join us.”

Then the Archangel of Death raised his hand to gesture to the disguised saved and the royal his refusal. “There is much to be done. I need to assure Artyom’s comrades that they don’t need to rescue him and my second-in-command is dealing with some… priority intelligence.”

“Very well then,” Lucifer stated as he walked over to the door on the left side of the room, “Come now, spy-agent-whatever you are. We have a limo to catch.”

Agent One sat beside his partner in the hospital after the attack on the D.H.O.R.K.S. hideout. She rested quietly in her bed while his elbows rested upon his knees and his fingertips slipped past each other, tying both hands together. This morning was one of those rare moments where he showed genuine care for Agent Two as she quietly slept through the medication. He recollected his encounter with the demons last night, seeing her take a bullet before capturing their prey. Normally, he would have been eager and happy to see them in their custody but now the agent pondered about less risky tactics so his friend wouldn’t get killed in the process.

A phone rang behind his back.

The duo was fortunate that they left for a medical facility owned by management. Agent One heard reports and rumors about his coworkers being overrun by armored demonic soldiers with machine guns and swords clearing out ninety percent of the crew there. He knew that hunting the denizens of Hell was dangerous but the man didn’t expect it to escalate the bloodshed to such a degree. He hoped that his efforts at showing management about their existence would be enough to be taken seriously.

A phone rang behind his back.

His hand reached out and held his partner’s palm with the hope that the unconscious Agent Two would recover. The young man remembered when they met on his first assignment. She was always the one who helped him deal with the bureaucracy of management, whether it was the nonsensical aspects of its rules or how it operated during regular human society. Nonetheless, he owed it to her for making his work bearable. Despite his honest feelings for her well-being, the D.H.O.R.K.S. agent bottled it up so that she did not know.

A phone rang behind his back.

This was the third time it rang and the man grew tired that no one answered. Agent One stood up and straightened his bloodied jacket before turning around to face the door. Then he paused when his eyes saw a strange detail he never knew before, there wasn’t a metal door when he came in. At the bottom, there was a visible glimpse of light on the other side but it blinked three times. His stomach churned as if they could feel the dread coming for him and so the agent reached for his holster on the right side of his body and pulled out a Glock pistol.

The employee cautiously stepped forward and unlocked the handle before pushing the door forward. Why did it push that way? The hospital only had doors that pushed inwards towards the patient rooms. His thoughts shifted upon finding himself standing inside a dark-lit room where the floors were carpet red and wooden panel walls. To call it strange was an understatement as he should have entered the hallway, not a dead end. Whatever was happening, he did not like it and this situation terrified him within his soul. Then he thought about Agent Two, causing him to look over his shoulder to find her resting on the cot as usual. He didn’t want to leave her; yet, this strange phenomenon needed to be investigated.

When he turned his head forward, the scenery changed with a painting on the wall ahead of him. Its borders seemed to emanate light, shining itself within the shadows while a string light switch hung from the left side of the picture. It was an ominous moment for him as he approached the wall, gaining a closer look at the scenery, only to find a red-headed woman in a black jacket working behind a desk in an office. Past her was a rectangular shape of white light that filled her room with light while her flanks were secured by shelves containing books and cabinets. Just who in their right mind would be inspired to create this dreary sight?

Everything about this room was surreal for him to accept. If he had a camera with recording software, management would be glad to see this information. Then his mind felt a strange sensation as if suggested by a power beyond imagination. His head turned and looked at the string light switch before his body urged him to reach out and pull. This was crazy to accept but morbid curiosity took the better of Agent One as his fingers wrapped themselves around the string and pulled. The border lights around the painting flickered three times as he observed the consequence of his actions.

He blinked his eyes and found himself standing inside the room of that picture. “What the hell?”

“Hell has nothing to do with this,” Answered a soft-spoken woman before the demon hunter discovered the woman in front of him was speaking. His mind could not believe what he was experiencing as he holstered his pistol and patted his chest to see if he was in a dream. Then his gaze focused on the stranger ahead of him, she had set down her pen and straightened her back from the deskwork. The redheaded woman was staring directly at him, “Agent One, I presume?”

“Who are you? What is this place? How am I here?” These were a flurry of questions that were released from his head, trying to acknowledge the senseless situation he had found himself in.

“Take a seat.”

Her hand reached out towards him before he noticed the arm retracting from across the desk as if pulling something. Then the man was taken aback when a chair knocked him into a seat as it slid across the floor before her hand guided the wooden armchair to be placed across the woman’s side of the desk. “I-I don’t understand. This has to be a dream.”

“Oh, how I wish it was so simple.” She smiled, content with her answer before leaning back against her chair.

“Is this about yesterday?”

The woman chuckled. “It’s more than that. You are one of the few people who have come into contact with the demons of Hell.”

“Am I in trouble?” It had to be the reason. He and his partner left when the hideout was almost wiped out, “Please, there has to be a misunderstanding?”

“Welcome to my office, here at the Federal Bureau of Control. You are one of the few people in existence to know about our organization, whom we haven’t immediately eliminated from our list. My employees know me as the director but you can call me Jesse Faden.”

“Miss Faden, what is going to happen to me?” Agent One did not know what to do as this was entirely beyond him. D.H.O.R.K.S. did not train him for this.

“Simple. Last night, you and your organization are interfering with things way above your understanding. Mortals are not meant to know about what goes on afterlife when their soul leaves the body unless my friends at the Department of Purgatory think it’s alright to say something,” She answered before crossing her arms while shaking her head in disappointment, “What we don’t need is a bunch of amateurs causing a mess for a joint operation whose lives depend on it.”

Just the way she directed the fury of her words was enough for him to realize that his organization may have been over their heads. It was a horrifying thought process for him to realize that the world he knew had gotten smaller. “Oh.”

“Really? Is that all you’re going to say?”

“There’s not much I can say, Jesse,” He replied, holstering his pistol while expressing himself to this complete stranger, “My entire job is revolved around hunting down demons so we can be taken seriously!”

“But now you are being treated as a serious problem. It’s bad enough that your people kidnapped a cherub but you should consider your lucky stars that the Archangel of Death hasn’t shown up to take him out of your custody by force or even sent the Gendarmes to kill you for him.” The director rose from her chair and planted her palms on the desk before looking down at him.

“Wait, you know about that?”

A hard gaze stared into his soul. “Heaven has a lot of agents everywhere. You would have to be an idiot to believe your snatch and grab went unnoticed.”

“So,” He thought about his previous assignment beforehand. Agent One remembered how the sheep with wings was trying to escape him and his partner. Never did he believe it would come back to bite him in the ass, “You want me to hand him over to you?”

“Pretty much; however, I need you to do something when you get back.”

“Which is?” Despite the initial impressions of his arrival, the woman in front of him had grown a lot more terrifying than her portrait implied.

She took a few steps away from her desk and turned around to look at the rectangular light. Several minutes passed, contemplating a response until her ultimatum came. “Your management will start asking questions about the incident. Do not tell them everything you’ve seen or heard of. You never saw the imps, you never saw the portal to Hell, and your girlfriend was shot by a mugger in an alleyway.”

“You want me to keep quiet about that?” It was such a tall request coming from her. Then again, the woman seemed to have power unbecoming of an average person. Just what right did she have to discourage him from his job? Yet, all of his thought subsided when he focused on the last detail of her sentence, “Wait a minute, Agent Two is my partner. She is not my girlfriend!”

“Tell yourself that. You’re lucky Cupid is not around.” The mood changed when Jessie turned around and laughed at his expense.

“Wait, he’s the real deal?”

“I wish I could tell you but Heaven only lets me work with the Archangel of Death,” Soon the director slipped her hands in the pockets of her jacket, “Remember what I said about management? Tell them nothing. Now I got some errands to run and a joint operation to participate in. So it’s time we end this conversation.”

A phone rang behind his back.

Agent One was shaken as he found himself sitting in the chair beside his partner once again. The transition was unexplainable but it felt like he was teleported back to his reality. He looked over his shoulder to see the door open inward as nurses and doctors passed by his room. His ears heard the phone ringing as receptionists took in calls, answering them outside the man’s vision. Maybe it was a dream; yet, it felt so real.

Vaggie had been organizing the appearance of the hotel since the morning. She had been busy ensuring the furniture and the other decorations looked presentable. Even if the hotel didn’t receive new occupants, the Salvadorian put her sweat and tears to do things right ever since her previous encounter with Lucifer. Fortunately, Nifty proved her worth when she assisted with the dusting and vacuuming. Much time was spared from the sinner personally dealing with every minutia of details. At the same time, her girlfriend was focused on helping the others get dressed for the occasion. It would have been embarrassing if Angel Dust approached her father with nothing more than leather and straps. Then again, it was in the Radio Demon’s purview as he seemed to have a fine taste for the expensive apparel - a blessing in disguise despite the sinner’s misgivings about his intentions. Even now, she trusted him as far as her throwing arm could allow for an exterminator spear.

Her skin felt fresh after half an hour spent in the shower. The moth girl looked at the mirror in front of her to not only admire the recently combed hair but to see the full display of the buttoned-up red shirt and the black skirt as part of her hotel uniform. It made her feel professional and it offset the color of her gray skin and white hair. Part of her felt like she could be working at a diner; however, there was no strict dress code to keep the young woman from wearing sleeves and stockings. She wanted to spend another minute at the appearance until she looked past her head to find the resident overlord step inside.

An unsettling smile caught a glimpse of her beauty as she turned around to find him standing in the doorway with his microphone cane wrapped around his fingertips. Despite her personal feelings for him, the sinner had to placate the man’s sensibilities lest his wrath was unleashed upon the hotel. After all, he was helping her highness and herself to attract the lowest common scum of Pride. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Well, darling,” Vaggie hated his deceitful demeanor as he approached her makeup desk, “Your charming lass want me to tell you to come down to the living room and see the others before his majesty arrives.”

“Why come here then? Couldn’t you have Nifty do it instead?” All overlords had a purpose for their actions as their infamy originated from that. Yet, she remained calm under his presence.

“She is too busy with her work to care about something so important as our upcoming conversation.”

What exactly did he have to say to her? “Such as?” She took her seat on the stool in front of the desk while eyeing him with hostility.

He let out a chuckle and placed his free hand behind his back and leaned on the microphone cane. “You and I both know that Charlie is quite… optimistic when it comes to her world views. While she is indeed capable of acknowledging and recognizing someone’s sinful pleasures, your love can sometimes overlook specific details.”

“You are getting at something and I do not like what that is implying,” Replied the moth sinner. Not only was it genuine but trusting an overlord was a damned fate for many who lived in the depths of Hell, “Get on with it.”

“I believe that one of our guests is not who they say they are.” Alastor added with his remarkably evil smile of his.

“Are you trying to say that one of our hotel guests is playing at her Charlie’s dreams? That’s quite the claim.”

Then he walked from right to left thinking to himself. “Indeed it is but I may have probable cause,” His microphone was brought near his face before he tapped it with his chin, leaving a quiet tap when they made contact, “There is something going on in the shadows that deserves our attention. In isolation, we would not think much of it but one of our guests is trying to play us for fools. I’ll have to introduce you to my evidence when our schedules are free. Until then, let us see our king of the damned.”

Alastor, the Radio Demon, was quick to leave the room when he finished talking before she felt a sense of disbelief at his statements. He was known for being a sly bastard and a ruthless dealer in sinner’s lives, whether it was the remarkably unusual Nifty or the displeasure of Husk’s opinions on the man. Yet, Vaggie now felt unsure about her own reactions to the overlord’s statements. People like him always preyed on others and took advantage of their fears. How could he be any different?

Perhaps it was not worth looking into as the sinner straightened out her clothes and departed to the lobby, where the initial visit would take place. She put Alastor’s words at the back of her mind as she thought about Lucifer’s arrival. His initial impressions of her at the royal palace were not good. Actually, it was incredibly embarrassing for her that she made pleasure with his daughter when the public was visiting that fateful day. What came after was the surprising part as he seemed approving of the relationship but wanted her to discourage her girlfriend from seeking out the idea of redeeming sinners. Every time he spoke of it, the young woman saw a glimpse of pain in his eyes as if there was an experience that no one would understand. She thought about trying to downplay the hopes of his daughter’s idea but she was just as determined to see it through as well as her father was to see it undone. If he was unconvinced since their last discussion, what more could he add that hadn’t been unsaid?

Her mind was interrupted when a door to the left abruptly swung open by the hotel’s first occupant, Angel Dust. Dressed in a pink tailored suit, he buttoned the jacket and adjusted the fedora atop his head. “Say what you will about the strawberry pimp but he knows my fashion. Say, Spanish tits, what do you think of my outfit? Does it look like I’ll be able to fuck a bluebird?”

“Watch it! You almost slammed the door on me,” She said, annoyed by his sudden arrival as she walked down the hallway toward her destination.

“Hey, wait up!” Shouted the homosexual sinner as he shuffled his feet to join her and kept his own suit clean and straightened out, “I’m sorry that I got too excited back there. It’s been a while since I had a decent party that wasn’t about brushing my teeth with a good cock.”

“Did Charlie ever teach you proper manners while I was changing?”

Then he let out a snicker at the question before they marched into a stairwell and descended from each step together. “She taught me enough. Refer to her dad and mom as majesty and keep my sailor mouth in the closet. It’s almost the same as my time with Valentino.”

Merely hearing his name was enough to keep her from replying with an insult to the first person that Charlie attempted to rehabilitate. Angel was someone who endured his own personal hell at that overlord’s hands, the mess of his bedroom a testament to his own feelings on the matter. Despite her misgivings about his current behavior, Vaggie still had sympathy for him even after the disaster with Katie Killjoy.

“Though, what’s weird is that Railtracer wasn’t around for that. In fact, I don’t think he came back since last night.”

Just what she needed. Everything seemed to be going well until now aside from Alastor’s attempts at convincing her that someone was suspect. Charlie was not going to be pleased and more importantly, part of her was worried that the sinner was going to interrupt the visit with his return. “Great, just great. Here’s hoping her dad doesn’t ask what he does in his spare time.”

“A guy like him is probably busy shooting the shit with his pals at work,” He remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand, “You should probably relax before your head explodes from the stress.”

“Angel, this is serious.”

“I know it is but having an aneurysm isn’t going to solve the problem. Besides, we can hope for the best that this visit will be short and Railtracer wouldn’t even know missed a thing.” She hated to admit it but the porn star seemed to have point. If they could make the whole visit short, then everything would be fine and dandy. It was a hopeful thought as Hell was not a place for having organized and planned events that went well.

When they reached the base of the stairs, both stepped into the hallway proceeding into the lobby area. She saw the princess of Hell wearing a red tuxedo jacket and a black suspender step out of the room on the far left before turning around to express joy while hearing a groan. “Come on, you can afford to have a smile. Look at how Mrs. Mayberry is handling this. She’s a natural.”

Husk expressed his opinion while out of view. “That’s because she’s a teacher. She has the luxury of trying to cheer up thirty brats at a time.”

“I know you want to go back to drinking and drown yourself in sorrows but could you try just this once,” Charlie pleaded with him with her hands clapped together, “It’s only for today, I’m not asking much.”

“Alright, alright. The only reason I’m in this mood is that we’ve been spending five hours on manners.” The moth couldn’t blame him for her girlfriend’s eagerness to do things right.

“There’s the spirit.”

Soon Vaggie and Angel Dust arrived and stood beside her highness. In the back was Nifty sorting through the refrigerator and tossing expired food into a trash can behind her with a gas mask on. Further to the right was Mrs. Mayberry wearing a yellow dress shirt tucked into a purple skirt, sitting quietly on the couch with a small makeup kit on her lap and a small mirror allowing the woman to adjust her beauty on the spot. Meanwhile, the trio found Husk standing straight and tall in front of them in a butler uniform, forcing himself to smile. Charlie stole a glance from the arrivals before expressing her thoughts. “What do you guys think? Is it a bit much?”

The spider sinner laughed as he crossed his arms and observed the alcohol seller’s appearance. “Not at all. I wouldn’t mind if he served me drinks. Husk, my man, why don’t you give me some tequila on the rocks?”

“Angel, let’s not antagonize him any further,” She replied before focusing her full attention on the cat-like being with wings, “I already tortured him long enough.”

“So, how long do we have until your dad gets here?”

“I don’t know. It probably doesn’t take him much since he can teleport at will.” The princess answered casually but Vaggie stole a look from the others and saw them turn their heads toward her with absolute shock. It was not reassuring sight if that was their reaction.

Alastor strode in from behind as he tap-danced towards the center of the lobby. “Well, we’ve done what we could to make things good. I just saw your father’s limousine arrive out front.”

“He’s here already!”

Vaggie stepped away from her girlfriend’s side and looked to her right. The hallway peered into the main entrance as she heard a vehicle quickly arrive before the tires screeched to a halt. Her stomach felt like a great pit had been opened as she anticipated the royal’s arrival with a hint of fear. Charlie was quick to encourage the group to relax and stay calm in the lobby but she knew that everyone still needed a few more minutes to make their final touches. “I’ll greet him, everyone else, stay here.”

“You heard her everyone, take your places,” Charlie ushered as she stepped forward inside the room with Angel Dust running over to the couch on the left side, “Nifty, throw out the trash and take that thing off your face.”

The sinner approached the front door with haste. She feared the reaction of the fallen archangel but despite that worry, the love for her girlfriend’s wellbeing overtook her. A figure shadowed over the yellow-stained glass as she reached out for the doorknob ahead. Lucifer and Lilith were a peculiar sort and she knew how to placate to her senses. Once the young woman arrived, she unlocked the door and swung it inward.

What stood before her was a complete surprise and, internally, her horror. Railtracer was standing in the doorway, his military uniform and kevlar vest dirty and bloodied. The trigger and magazine of his assault rifle were being hugged as if he was carrying a baby. If only he returned at a different time. “Hello Vaggie, it’s good to be back. You look nice.”

“Where were you? We have a meeting with Charlie’s father! Get dressed before her parents see you.” She ordered, knowing time was too precious to waste.

“Unfortunately,” The Russian stepped aside as he looked out to the front of the hotel to reveal a silver limo parked outside with an open door, allowing a pale-skinned archangel to step out of the vehicle with his white top hat wrapped by a pink serpent and apple-styled cane, “We got acquainted much earlier than I expected.”

“Wait, how did you hitch a ride with the king of Hell?”

His head turned to look at her. “Some shenanigans at I.M.P got me in trouble but his majesty paid me a visit in a prison and learned I lived here. He figured I was worth bringing along since he was heading over anyway.”

Vaggie could not believe what she was hearing. This was surreal in her mind and it made the hotel’s initial impressions worse than she wanted them to be. As she acknowledged the situation, her eyes looked to the monarch reaching out to a tall lithe figure stepping out of the car seat by her husband. Then the ruler and his wife approached the hotel’s front door with their arms locked together tightly. Lucifer expressed a large smile upon seeing her as he raised his hat and spoke, “It’s good to see you again. How long has it been since we last met?”

“I… I don’t know. I kinda lost track since we left,” His physical appearance was not as impressive but the presence of power exuded as he stopped in front of the door to speak to her, “Your daughter is in the lobby room with the others.”

“Your dress is remarkably fitting for someone like yourself. How have things been since your interview with Katie Killjoy?” He asked of her.

The blonde in the black thigh-slit dress pulled his arm and grabbed his attention. “That’s a bit rude to ask that question, dear.”

“Yes, I am getting ahead of myself. Now let’s give our daughter a visit.”

The royals stepped inside as they spoke to each other about the latest changes to the hotel’s interior design before the moth turned to the armed soldier and grabbed him by the wrist. Before the girl had switched outfits, she had given everyone an outfit to wear in their rooms. “Hey, take a shower and get changed. There’s a suit on your bed that Alastor allowed you to use.”

He nodded without a word as they followed Hell’s powerful people in existence. Their stride was a sight to behold as the husband and wife proceeded into the lobby. Vaggie watched as Railtracer broke away from their company and walked deeper into the building as the royals met with the collection of individuals that officially worked as staff. She watched Charlie gather the others in a line before turning around to see her parents stand before her. “Mom, dad!”

“There’s my sweet strawberry shortcake!” The ruler of Hell expressed as he slipped out from Lilith’s arm and embraced his daughter rushing over to hug him, “It’s great to see you again.”

The queen of the succubus walked past them and rested a hand on her hip, observing the sinners and the overlord presented before her. “You have quite the motley crew, dear. I wonder how you have managed to convince them to stay.”

When the king and his daughter finished hugging, they walked over to her side before Vaggie stood by Charlie. She was quick to explain to the others in the room. “As of right now, everyone you see here works for Charlie. Both of you have probably heard about the radio demon and his infamy. Well, your daughter managed to convince him to work for us and he pulled a few strings to get some people to work here.”

“Indeed. Here I thought this place was for sinners who willingly seek out redemption,” Observed the tall woman before her husband took one step forward and stared at the row of smiling faces, “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all. This is a strange company for our daughter but they surpass my expectations in terms of her intention.”

Angel Dust walked out of line and spoke. The moth knew he was disobedient at times but she internally wanted to discourage him from speaking out of turn. “Sir, what do you mean by that?”

“My daughter is quite eager to see this hotel succeed at redeeming sinners. I don’t believe it will work,” A quick look at the princess showed a disheartened girl hearing her father’s opinion but then he continued, “Yet, I must admire her resolve at convincing all of you to accompany her on that journey. At the very least, she has decent people to rely on when the hour is dark.”

“You sure this hotel thing won’t work?”

“It’s a complicated matter and not as straightforward as Charlotte would like to believe. There is quite a history involved, one I am not too keen on explaining right now. After all, it would spoil the mood of this visit.” She did not know why but his words seemed sincere and his attitude much more uncertain than the previous time he spoke on this subject. Back then, he was adamant about the whole concept of redeeming a sinner to ascend to Heaven. What happened to the person who was so sure of his daughter’s quest leading to failure?

Vaggie’s body felt a natural urge below her stomach, one she was all too familiar with. The moth girl had been so focused on preparing herself for the visit that she forgot to relieve the body. Oh, how embarrassing it would be to leave her girlfriend to her parents’ judgment but better to go than to make it worse. She turned to the princess and whispered in her ear. “I need the bathroom. Do you have this?”

“It’s alright,” Her highness answered with a bright smile, “Dad seems to be in a better mood than I expected. Go ahead, I can take this from here.”

The Salvadorian did not hesitate to backpedal away from the current company before walking towards the main hallway. She traveled for several minutes through the maze-like building; however, years of living here had made her familiar with its expansive layout. Newcomers would easily be lost had it not been for her assistance, a quality that she could lord over Alastor when the opportunity came.

Soon she arrived at a T-crossing but the answer was simply turning around the corner to the path on the right, where the bathrooms were. As the young lady peered entered that part of the hallway, a sign hung from the ceiling, pointing at the room three doors ahead. What was truly amazing was that she did not release any tension beneath her waist.

It was the final stretch before relief but time seemed to take forever for the sinner to close the distance and find refuge at a toilet seat. Yet, there was a door on her right that had been opened, and a conversation taking place. Then her ears picked up and listened on Railtracer in isolation.

Her feet quietly walked over to the open door and peeked through to find the man standing in the supply room smoking a cigarette in one hand and taking to a phone call in the other. His back was turned towards her. “Tony, it’s me. I saw your messages earlier.”

The Russian brought his smoke to his lips for a quick whiff before bringing the cigarette to his side as smoke began to fill up the room.

“Yeah, the boss accompanied Lucifer. Any news in the department aside from my latest mess?”

What did he mean by ‘department?’ Was it some form of euphemism or code for his line of work? It certainly did not help that the conversation was occurring in a dark-lit room.

“Are you sure you don’t need my help? I can still-”

A muffled voice reached his ear and was loud enough for Vaggie to see that the unknown caller had authority over him.

“Crystal. Then tell Pavel and Uhlman that I said hi. Good luck with your investigation in Heaven, I’ll see what I can do from my end in the hotel.”

Railtracer ended the call on his phone before he slipped the device into his pocket. The sinner quietly shuffled away and approached the bathroom’s entrance before she peeked her head out into the corner. Then the door to the supply room creaked open as he stepped into the hallway with his cigarette in hand. His eyes scanned the surroundings before the girl hid inside and patiently waited. Minutes passed until the man’s weapons and gear tapped against each other and faded with each moment those sounds repeated.

She took a glimpse at the hallway to see him walking away from her, unaware of her presence. Many questions flowed through her mind but it was clear that the Hazbin Hotel had been infiltrated. What was she to do about him?

Chapter Text

There were some quiet days when Pentagram City just fell silent. Few could hardly explain it but these moments were always personal and gave clarity to its denizens. Rare was it that one could find relative peace in this dark realm of the afterlife. The silence was unsettling in a place where street-level shootouts, stabbings, and drive-bys were the normal way of life amongst the sinners and Hellborn. Yet, it would not deter one from completing his mission to redemption.

Hunter sat quietly on a bench and pretended to read the newspaper in his lap. His apparel was merely slacks and a dress shirt, with a long Red Army trenchcoat to keep him from the wind. Several days were spent hunting down targets but today would be different as this would be the last time he would need to perform a kill before his benefactor would reach out to him and grant that precious status. Not even the luxurious Hazbin Hotel could make that offer when it came to assuring sinners that redemption did indeed exist.

The last target was across the street and inside a barber shop, relaxing comfortably in leather seating while his head was being inspected by the barber. He had developed a habit to visit every week with the hopes of making himself attractive to the beautiful prostitutes who roamed the streets. There was no need to rush in and kill him as the barber preferred to close the blinds when performing his work. One could not tell if he was genuinely shaving someone’s head or mysteriously murdering them once they let their guard down. Fortunately, the bull was always seen leaving the main entrance. All he needed to do was wait for the circumstances to occur again and get his window of opportunity.

Seconds turned into minutes before the Russian grew bored of reading the news about how the local bar full of dead post-apocalypse survivors got into another fight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, searching for the picture app saved on the memory. His thumb swiped through every instance of memory with his Mexican girlfriend, who didn’t ask questions about his day job. It was a strange coincidence back then but he recalled the fond memory of his initial impressions at a club where random dates take place. Life as a soldier rarely gave him any opportunity to meet a nice girl and find love. Well, it was hard to love people who abandoned you for someone else. Maria could have picked anyone else; yet, she chose him. He knew not why, only that she cared for his soul enough for them to live together.

The hired assassin noticed movement with the target as he saw the barber walk up to the blinds and keep the world from looking inside. The moment was perfect and now was the time for action. Hunter placed his newspaper to the side before he rose from the bench and looked at both ends of the road. A car approached from his left and drove past the lonely killer until it was safe to cross the street. He slipped his arms out of the sleeves of his trenchcoat, letting it rest atop his shoulders as his hands and intentions were hidden underneath. As he approached the glass door with a neon sign declaring the building was open, the sinner’s right hand reached for the holstered sidearm and placed his palm on the grip. Feeling the weapon gave him confidence that his preparations were coming together. A free hand opened the door as a bell rang, signifying the arrival of a customer.

He would have to be quick about this.

Four leather chairs were planted in the white tile flooring in front of him. Three remained empty while the seat on the far side of the room was occupied. The barber inside was a sentient cockroach, who turned his head and opened the mandibles where his mouth would be. “Take a seat. I will be with you shortly.”

He did as was told while approaching the unaware bull in a purple suit by seeking out the spot beside him. The coat covered the holstered pistol and the arm ready to use it. Hunter smiled at the barber while he appeared to be seeking out the seat closest to the current customer. “Nice place you got here.”

“Thanks!” The barber replied, the small talk acting as a distraction, “With all of the shootings around these parts, most people wouldn’t spend a day here.”

“I can see why.” Now was the time to complete the mission. His hand pulled out a Tokharev pistol and aimed it at the humanoid bull in the seat.

The target turned his head and expressed his shock at that moment before two rounds were fired into his chest. Helpless, he screamed in pain as his hands tried to cover up the gunshot wounds. It would not be enough as another round was fired into the sinner’s chest, mortally wounding him. Blood began to cough out of his mouth but Hunter needed to be sure this man would never live. Soon the sights were lined up toward the victim’s head before firing two more shots, throwing gore and brain matter on the floor. Then the barber registered the bloodshed that happened within his business as he stood back with blood spots on his clothes.

His mission would not be complete until the witness was terminated and unable to interfere with the kill confirms. He looked at the horrified owner and pointed the gun at him. “Shame I can’t let you walk out of this as well.”

Once realization came into the cockroach, he turned around and attempted to flee to the back. Yet, it was not enough as three more pistol rounds fired away and stole another life from existence. Then he stumbled forward and landed head-first to the floor as blood seeped out from underneath the second victim.

He approached the bull in the chair and sought out his wrists. The mission briefing had informed him that the body needed to be identified before a picture confirming the corpse would be sent back. A bracelet was found before removing it from the corpse and the body transformed into a human. The wounds from the previous form remained as the assassin pulled out his phone and took pictures before sending back the photos for identification. Then he slipped the bracelet back on and returned to the masquerade making his way out the door.

The phone rang as holstered his pistol and answered the call. “Did you receive the body identity?”

“Yes,” The garbled voice said as if it was content with the latest kill. The Russian walked away from the barber shop via the sidewalk and the benefactor continued, “You have shown reliable skill at dispatching these targets. This was to test your capabilities but it has earned Heaven’s blessing. The next thing you will receive is a location where we will properly dispense your redemption.”

“Understood.” That last sentence made his skin crawl. It sounded like a trap but the benefactor was someone who had not reneged on his benefits since he met with them.

The call came to an end; yet, uncertainty remained for the post-apocalypse sinner.

The visit ended on a better note than the princess of Hell had expected from her father. She had known him to be adamant in his beliefs about her desire to change the sinners for the better; yet, Charlie seemed to notice something strange about her dad. He seemed to carry an aura of melancholy with him when they spoke of the hotel and got to know about the people inside. The ruler of this kingdom was quite renowned for brightening the spirits of an entire room but his expressions that day revealed the truth about him - the fallen archangel seemed worried. She rarely saw that side of him ever since she was born. Although it was presumed that the throne would belong to her should events happen, the royal felt afraid of what he was going through.

She put those thoughts at the back of her mind while everyone in the hotel was assembled in the dining room. A purse had been slung over her shoulder before reaching in and passing out pink slips to everyone present. Each sinner looked at the prints on those cards, expressing their perplexed emotions before they turned their full attention to the princess and the girlfriend by her side. Out from her left, Mrs. Mayberry stole a look from the slip. “What exactly is this?”

“It’s a pass,” Charlie answered as the room continued to be full of confusion. Now was the time to reward every employee and guest at the Hazbin Hotel, “You guys did your best not to embarrass me in front of my dad so I’m rewarding you - the pink slip. Sinners are not allowed to leave the Pride level and see the other places of Hell… unless they have this.”

Angel Dust was sitting at the dining table, a second chair away from her on the right side of the room. He chuckled at the pink paper and leaned back against his seat. “Well, I’ll be damned. I heard people talk about this stuff but never expected to see one in my hands. How much did you pay for it - this shit is expensive?”

“I’m Lucifer’s daughter. Despite what a lot of people think about me, I have my ways.” The royal answered as she shoved her hair behind her shoulders with a smile on her face.

“You are full of surprises,” He remarked as he tucked the pass in the fluff underneath his shirt, “So is that the reason you wanted us to come here? To give us our just rewards?”

“It’s more than that. Vaggie and I were nearly stressed out trying to get things in order when the king of Hell arrived so I thought a vacation would do us nicely after what I put all of you through. I normally don’t invite people but there’s a place in Lust that my parents used to go to when I was little. We’re going to visit it if none of you don’t mind.”

“A beach party? Well, it’s time I get my things.” He remarked before he rose from the chair and departed from the room.

Soon the mood shifted when the Radio Demon, standing from across the table, reached into his crimson jacket and brandished a cigar before snapping his fingers to light the other end. “A visit into Lust? What a wonderful idea but I highly doubt some of us can enjoy the experience, unlike others. Even Husk wouldn’t be convinced to accompany you. I wonder how you will tackle that issue.”

Alastor made a good point about that specific detail. Yet, she thought of a way to avoid complaints and encourage them. “Simple. I could just pay you guys to come.”

“What?” It was the first time she had seen the overlord grow confused about her response, “I was expecting something elaborate to convince everyone in this room to join us.”

“The only people we’ve attracted since the hotel’s official opening is Mrs. Mayberry and Railtracer. That’s it and I suppose all of you could use the extra cash for whatever you guys want to buy.” The truth was that the Morningstar family was lavishly rich and those payments were merely a small percentage of her father’s allowance on her behalf.

“You can’t expect them to join you just like that.”

Railtracer was standing beside Mayberry on the left side of the room. The teacher leaned against the wall while the Russian crossed his arms. His voice was slightly muffled but was loud enough to get his words across. “I don’t know. It’s bad enough that I messed with my boss’ accounts at I.M.P. The extra cash could be useful in my work.”

“You are not going to take her gift so easily, are you? I’d expect more resistance from you sinners.” Alastor said, baffled by what he was hearing in the dining room.

“Just being practical,” He replied before adjusting the straps on his gas mask, “Mayberry needs school supplies and I need some weapon parts.”

“This just won’t do.”

Charlie could not help herself from smiling. As it turns out, money can be quite a convincing way to ease people’s financial worries. “Unless you can come up with a better incentive, I’m all ears.”

Husk finally participated in the conversation as he brandished a bottle and chugged it till it was empty of alcohol. Then the hybrid of a cat and bird tossed it to the floor and let it smash before Nifty swiftly ran out of the room and returned with a boom and pan. “Fuck it, I need the money anyways.”

“You too? I didn’t you’d accept.” It was surprising given his apathetic demeanor towards the whole concept of the hotel. Only the vice of the bottle lured him into service.

“Al cut me off from taking the fucking pot, so I’ll take this instead.”

Alastor turned his gaze upon him. “You won’t let that down, will you?”

“No, I won’t,” He approached the Radio Demon and pressed his finger into his chest. “You were an asshole then and still an asshole now.”

“Now, now. Lower your voice. We don’t want to cause a fight.” The tone of his voice darkened, hinting at his demonic form while his eyes transformed into frequency dials. Meanwhile, the atmosphere and reality grew hazy.

The princess was about to speak but she saw Railtracer walk up to them and cut them off with his arms, pushing the sinner and overlord back with enough space to put himself in between their feud. “Enough, you two! If either of you wants to settle whatever problem you have with each other, I can bring you guys to the back and fetch some dueling pistols.”

“Oh, I don’t need a weapon to deal with the likes of him.”

“Get out of the fucking way,” Demanded the bartender as he took off his top hat and began buttoning his shirt, “Let me shove his damn stick up his ass.”

A few seconds was all it took to change their attitudes as Railtracer stunned the room when he slapped both men. They stumbled back, heads turned away thanks to the loud clap of a sinner’s hand leaving a red mark on their cheeks. Charlie was stunned at the sight while Vaggie could not help herself from letting out a giggle. Very few people dared to confront an overlord so openly but much less strike them down. Yet, it seemed that the Russian’s patience had ended as the royal walked over to see if either was badly hurt. “Did you have to slap them?”

“Believe me, I’ve seen this dick-measuring contest before. That should wake them up.” Just hearing his reply gave new context about the man who spent most of his time in the workshop.

“Alastor, Husk, are you done now?”

A chuckle was all that the Radio Demon could summon as he straightened himself and looked at the arbitrator who ended it all. “Yes. I must admit, this was not something I’d expect.”

The doorbell rang.

“Ah, I wonder who that must be.”

“I’ll take it,” She stated before looking over her shoulder and seeing her girlfriend amused. Probably enjoying Alastor’s hurt pride, “Vaggie, can you help the others find their swimsuits before we all head out to Lust?”

The moth nodded her head as she shifted right and opened a door leading into a hallway elsewhere. “Let’s go people. We got a few hours before we head out.”

Charlie turned around and walked out the main entrance of the dining room and peered into the hallway where the doorbell rang from. To the right, was the front door to the hotel but there stood a feminine shadow lurking outside. The princess quickly jogged to the entrance while her stomach churned at the possibilities.

Was this another willing sinner? It was an interesting thought that someone would approach her on this day and it excited her. Then again, her expectations had turned the public’s view of her idea as nothing more than a shame. Anticipation mixed with fear made the royal tremble but despite those feelings in her body, she would not give the denizens of Hell the satisfaction.

When she reached the door, her hand turned the knob and swung it open with a smile on her face. “Welcome to the Hap-Hazbin Hotel! What can I do for you?”

A cyclops sinner was standing before her, dressed in black leggings and an off-shoulder crop top. Her other apparel ware consisted of a strange collection than a thoughtful consideration for beauty with the girl’s left arm covered in a fingerless satin glove as the right differed with a tattoo sleeve. Even her shoes shared the same philosophy with one foot in a boot and another in a red slipper. The stranger’s shark-like teeth smiled as she spoke. “You’re Charlie, right?”

“Um, yeah,” She answered; yet, the princess wanted to know why she was sought out, “Are you looking to stay at this hotel?”

“Are you kidding? I’d rather fuck a snake than live here. Not a place for me. Too nice and orderly.” That was a disappointing response but Charlie did not want to spoil the initial meet and greet. Perhaps she’ll change her mind in the future but time was short before the whole hotel would set off into Lust.

“So… what are you doing here, exactly?”

The girl with the ponytail placed her hands on her hips. “I’m looking for my pal, Angel Dust. I don’t know why he continues to live with you freaks but I came around to see if he’s okay. You didn’t do anything to him since he helped me out, did you?”

“Oh, you mean to punish him?” It was an absurd thought but despite the trouble that the homosexual pop star brought to her dream, his willingness to help a friend out in danger was far nobler than abandoning them. She shook her head at the notion as she laughed it off, “No, I don’t do that here. Angel may have turned me into a laughing stock on television but I can’t hold that against being a good friend.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The atmosphere changed when the owner of the hotel heard the voice of a gay spider shouting from across the hallway. “Cherri, what the fuck are you doing here?! I thought you’d be defending your turf after Extermination Day.”

“Things have calmed down. Sir Pentious limp dicked his way back to his place and none of the other dipshits wanted me to turn their block into Verdun.,” She dismissed the issue with a wave of her hand, “So how have things been since you left?”

“Her highness got some strawberry pimp called the Radio Demon. He brought some company over and liven the place up. I don’t think Valentino is going to dare his way over to me.” He replied with a comfortable assurance as he stood by Charlie’s side.

“You in the mood to hang out?”

The princess needed to inform her of the hotel’s plans. “I don’t think he’ll be able to do anything right now. You see, we’re heading off to Lust after I tortured your friend to act like a gentleman in front of my dad.”

“You did? Shit, I would pay to see Angel squirm in a suit.” Cherri remarked as both girls stole a glance from the man trying to fluff up his chest.

He seemed pleased with himself with a chuckle. “It wasn’t that bad. The last time I ran around in a fancy suit was back in Chicago. Damn, what fun I had.”

“Hey, Charlie, I’m in the mood to hang out. Can I come along?”

“Sure, the more the merrier,” It was rare to find Angel Dust in a pleasant mood and it seemed that this girl brought the best out of him. Those passes were expensive but perhaps it was worth the cost to make this place feel like it’s a little bit of Heaven, “Let me make a call. Also, we’re going to the beach so find some swimsuits if you’re in the mood.”

The weapon shipment had been isolated from the rest of Hell’s society and was being tracked into the badlands of Pride. Once it had left the city limits and into the open wasteland beyond the patrols of Lucifer’s soldiers and the highway roads between the major settlements, Uhlman ordered the crew to set off and track it down. It seemed to be that the shipment was using the side paths unknown to sinners and Hellborn alike. Fortunately, the Purgatory Investigators were able to formulate a plan to ambush the people responsible for seizing these weapons.

Pavel laid his body against the ground and rested his sniper rifle on the dune overlooking the abandoned town with Alexander Morris beside him. Both men had been prone since Uhlman and Strelok dropped them off to provide overwatch for two of their own within the ghost town. If they were to encounter an armed convoy, a series of explosives would be set off to disable or destroy the lead vehicle. Should they attempt to reverse and back out, Niko would drive in from the rear and block the convoy inside, causing them to navigate through the obstructed streets or stand their ground. The former communist officer hoped it would be the latter but desperation made for interesting results.

Patience took over as the time-traveling cowboy - in his white KronoteK uniform and armor - brought up a shoulder-fired launcher beside him. They certainly lacked the numbers to carry this mission out but the firepower would be an equalizer in this fight. The Russian looked below to see a long stretch of road going in both directions of the town. Once the shooting would begin, they would have ample time to eliminate the hostiles before proper reinforcements arrived. Well, it presumed those reinforcements would survive if Uhlman and Stelok weren’t piloting a Mi-24  in the nearby vicinity with a blessed autocannon and explosive ordnance.

Alexander reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small styrofoam plate containing a strange dish that Pavel had never seen before. Even after death, mere food could be alienating for him as the old American pulled out a knife and cut a slice for himself. Pistachios were carefully placed on the dry cheese before stealing a glance at his partner. “Want some?”

“I don’t know,” His eyes stared at the plate with both interest and slight curiosity. Yet, he failed to account for his mouth being watery, “What the fuck is this?”

“Kunafa - it’s an Arab dessert, or so I’m told. Got this when Uhlman let me visit Heaven for a bit after the gun market operation. There’s a religious holiday going on and I just so happened to stumble into it. Christ, I wish my family could cook as they did. Some old grandma was telling me it’s good and I really couldn’t reject the nice lady.” He didn’t expect him to be this detailed about some strange pastry but it must have been good if he was telling a story about it. The saved officer didn’t think he would use an ambush operation to find interesting food but here he was.

“Will you keep it down if I have some?”

“You could be nicer about it,” Alexander placed the styrofoam in between himself and his partner before taking his bite. His mouth was partially full but chewing the cheese within, “The other half is yours.”

He rested his rifle in the sands as his hand reached for the kunafa and started to eat. Its sweet flavor reassured Pavel’s tastebuds despite the initial appearance. Their radios crackled with Uhlman’s voice in the air. “Team Two, what is your status?”

“Alexander here, maintaining overwatch. Any update on the situation?” Questioned the time traveler.

“The weapons shipment just drove past us. It’s got four APCs and two trucks. They’re kicking sand but get ready once you see them. Strelok and I will be airborne in five once the ambush starts.”

The timing was unfortunate as the communist was eager to take his time with the dessert. Yet, it only gave him an idea for the future. He could search for an Arab restaurant or a treat shop that specialized in this pastry somewhere in Hell; however, it could also give him another spot when for a date with Kiki. Now he was not sure whether she would like it but it was worth a try.

His thoughts began to lock themselves away in the back of his mind before scarfing what was left. Only crumbs remained before they would themselves flying to the four winds as Pavel brought his hand around the grip of his Dragunov. Its scope was covered to prevent grains of sand from tainting the accuracy but to also ensure that it would not make any glint from afar. Then he pulled the charging handle back before turning the weapon on its side to take a glimpse of the chamber containing a bullet etched in Latin.

The round had been blessed to vaporize targets upon impact. It was funny when he learned about the details of the bullet. Some of the Heavenborn liked to think it was a way to ease a soul’s passing; however, they hated it when Saved souls in service of the Department of Purgatory and the Holy Army referred to them as high-explosive rounds. Who could blame them? After all, it’s not the fault of the users who just watched their targets disintegrate.

His eyes looked ahead and saw a fleet of vehicles approaching the ghost town from his right. It was hard to ignore the blue container being driven by a heavy-lift semi-trailer truck while surrounded by an array of armored vehicles. They followed the black road into the town but as they grew closer, the convoy began to form into a single column before entering the settlement’s perimeter.

A trap had been waiting for them and now it was about to be sprung in a few moments. Yet, Morris informed the others on the radio. “Convoy’s coming, get ready.”

It was the longest minute that Pavel had to endure. He released his grip on the charging handle, his free hand reached over to the cover of his scope, and slowly pulled it off. A small ‘pop’ let out as he kept his palm over the lenses, waiting for the moment to strike. The vehicles below the dune were beginning to slow their speed so they could make their turns on the major roads. So much anticipation was pent up for this moment; yet, patience demanded that he hold his fire.

“Come on V, set them off.” The time-traveler whispered to himself as he lifted the missile launcher onto his shoulder and crouched himself upward with a free hand laying in the red sand.

Three vehicles ahead of the semi-trailer began to make their turn right, around a corner diner. The lead vehicle cut across the sidewalk and it seemed that it would follow the path away from the overwatch crew. Curious, the Russian removed his hand from the front of his scope and looked through the sights for a closer look at the corner building. Inside the building, he saw a glimpse of the abandoned food area catch alight.

It exploded before his very eyes as an explosion shook the surroundings. The sheer shockwave caught the duo off-guard as a plum of fiery smoke erupted from the turn. Once he regained recovered, Pavel returned his eyes down the scope to see the three vehicles at the front on their side and on fire. The truck they guarded slowed down as the driver and navigator stepped outside to check for survivors within the blast radius. Soon the rear vehicles halted and the troops dismounted. What was truly surprising was the white armor and blue uniforms among their apparel alongside the human forms.

These were no mere sinners but members of the Holy Army.

His shock was enough to make a call on his radio. “Uhlman, I think these guys are from the army.”

“What?!” The superior asked as the background noise of spinning helicopter blades started to grow in volume, “Are you sure it’s them?”

“Yes.” It was an answer out of conviction. Pavel did not hesitate what he saw from his scope and the armed convoy was too open to hide their identity. Yet, it was a terrifying possibility that his crew just ambushed a Holy Army convoy. Nonetheless, they would carry out their objectives of retrieving the blue container.

An assertive female voice shouted on the radio. “Alex, dump your munitions! I need covering fire!”

The KronoteK agent stood up and loaded a collection of missiles into the top slot of his launcher. “Laser-guided hellfire coming right up. Pavel, cover your ears.”

He did not hesitate to let go of his rifle before both hands were kept around his head. The man beside him fired his weapon and sounds of explosive ordnance was ejected out of the tube, launching itself high into the air in bursts of five heat-seeking bodies at a time. A red laser emanated from underneath the barrel and directed itself upon the three remaining rear vehicles. Several minutes passed until the loitering screamed toward the designated targets in hateful flames. Fifteen missiles descended to the ground igniting the vehicles with explosions while the convoy’s protectors were caught in the open.

Pavel looked back into his scope and saw shrapnel and sheer concussive power tear apart men and machines alike. Only the container with the blue weapons remained unharmed thanks to the surgical precision of Alexander’s aim. As he regained eyes over the town’s newest guests, the corner of his gaze shifted left to see a slender pop out from a set of stairs and stand atop a concrete rooftop. Her colorful dyed hair was the only identification that the Russian had of V as she took off her black leather jacket and her apparel was nothing more than a purple blouse and a pair of sweatpants. She extended her arms out before their mechanical insides opened and brandished blades underneath the woman’s human-like hands. Mantis blades were drawn as the sunlight gleamed off her weapon. It was a fearsome sight to behold and the communist admired the lethal appearance until she jumped from her position and landed in the proximity of the convoy.

The urban layout masked her location as gunfire erupted from the convoy and men screamed out to kill her. They would endure a bloodbath on their hands; yet, it was better that they suffered instead of the former communist officer. Alleys and backstreets flickered with light while the rear vehicle began to reverse out of formation. His finger slipped over the trigger and sought out the driver’s position. The APC was well-armored but enough shots would crack the bulletproof glass. Soon the air cracked with one shot at a time, the Dragunov’s bullet tapping the front seat without relenting. His efforts would come to an end when the gun turret moved and began searching for him. It would only be a matter of time before he grabbed the standing American and attempted to pull him away from the edge. “Morris, get down!”

They became unfortunate victims of gravity as they lost their balance and both men stumbled forward and rolled down the dune. Tracers peppered from the vehicle as shells and tracers rippled above them and chased after them. There were attempts to find solid grand to stand upon but the threat of an autocannon and high-caliber machine guns discouraged Pavel’s attempts as the duo found themselves on the outskirts of the ghost town. His lips tasted the saltiness of the sand until the Russian started spitting to be rid of it.

“Either we were lucky or those bastards were bad at shooting. I hope those guys are pretending to be in the Holy Army because if they are, we just witnessed a tragedy.” He remarked while spitting the grains from his dried tongue.

The time-traveling cowboy pushed himself off the ground and reached out to swipe his hands on Pavel’s clothes. “Watch where you’re spitting, buddy.”

“I suppose we join V and Niko?” He said as they swiped what they could remove from their clothes. It was going to be a pain on the washing machine when they get back to the safe house, “Fucking sand!”

A pair of running feet could be heard from their right as they turned to face the oncoming stranger. Out from an alleyway, a soldier in a Holy Army uniform turned around the corner and bumped into them before tumbling onto the ground. He turned his head to take a good look while trying to bring his weapon up. Pavel’s instincts took over as he reached for the holster behind his back and pulled out a blessed C96 pistol and fired a burst of rounds into the man’s face.

“Well, we caught ourselves a runner.”

“Really?” Alexander expressed his disbelief with the former communist, “A Mauser Broomhandle?”

He turned around and saw the KronoteK agent toss his missile launcher to the ground before unslinging two weapons over his shoulders. “What?”

“You’ll be out of ammo before you know it. That’s if the clip doesn’t jam on you. Take my submachine gun. You’ll need it more than I do.” He tossed the automatic weapon up high as Pavel extended his arms out to catch it. Once it landed, he started to run off into the alleyway where the soldier came from.

“Why the fuck are you giving this to me?!” He demanded.

The cowboy laughed at his expense. “It has an auto-lock feature!”

“I don’t know how to reload it!”

He holstered the pistol and slipped the butt of the weapon under his right arm until he felt ready to charge after his partner. The only signs of the man’s presence were the footprints left on the ground. Yet, the closer he came to the main street where the main fighting was, tracking Alexander Morris and joining him became a fruitless endeavor. So all that the former officer could do was find the weapons shipment and secure it.

Minutes passed as the sounds of fighting amongst the convoy continued to lessen; however, the APC with the autocannon continued to fire away. When was the outfit going to kill the damn thing? Pavel ran as his life depended on him with the rising smoke stacks rising to the burning skies and the smell of burning oil ruling the atmosphere. On occasion, he would be in the crossfire of stray bullets penetrating through multiple wooden walls but the ex-soldier continued to press forward toward the danger.

When he finished navigating through the buildings, the main street lay in front of him and the blue shipment container was a mere sprint away. Despite the relieving sight, he hugged the wall on his right and readied his strangely-shaped submachine gun towards the opposite end of the ally. As he slowly approached the objective, a squad of five soldiers appeared into view, firing their assault rifles elsewhere while unaware of his position on their left flank.

A greedy smile enjoyed the sight of the buffet of targets before the trigger finger squeezed and let out a hail of gunfire from his barrel. It was a surprise at first as he quickly fired through his rounds while the recoil was low enough to stabilize his aim. Then the Russian noticed the bullets moving mid-flight and seeking out the surprised soldiers of the Holy Army. Short bursts cut each one with a simple squeeze while he thought about the moment earlier. “I should probably thank Morris for this toy.”

The moment of satisfaction did not last as the APC rolled forward and appeared in front of him with its turret aimed directly at him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He turned around and ran for his life while heavy machine gun and autocannon fire flew past him. Overpressure rippled through the air and his ears rang out at the deafening noise.

Danger had become second nature to Pavel. Despite the threat of an armored vehicle turning him into an invalid, he heard a roar of angry Serbian noises on the rooftop beside him. “Jebi se!”

What followed was an overhead shriek screaming behind the saved’s back until the vehicle’s main weapons were muted by a loud explosion. He looked over his shoulder to see the APC a burning wreck beside the weapons shipment. As the ringing slowly subsided, the former soldier walked into the center of the alleyway and approached the main road while looking up at the rooftops to see a familiar figure in a tracksuit on the right rooftop. “Niko, is that you?”

“Who the fuck did you think it was?” The foreigner replied, annoyed at such a question while tossing a used missile launcher away from him. Then he adjusted his gloves and spat at the ground, “It’s not like I’m speaking French, am I.”

“Sorry, it’s just that my ears are turned to mulch after what just happened. Is that the last of them?”

Their radios crackled to life as a Mi-24 flew overhead and a scream of a gunship unleash its full potential elsewhere. Uhlman’s voice called both men as the sounds of electronics beeped in the background. “I’m seeing a few stragglers trying to escape but they won’t be running far. Everyone else, secure the shipment and get an Isra beacon up. The Gendarmes are waiting on us.”

His hand reached for the button to speak. “Ladna, heading over.”

Not a word was said as the former communist officer walked over to the shipment and made his way toward the back of the container. He heard a gunshot in the distance only to hear the clean slicing of flesh at the hands of mantis blades. V was still out there, cutting up some poor soul in a brutal kill but Pavel did his best to keep the vivid thoughts of ‘dissection’ out of his mind. The last detail he needed was an excuse to start throwing up.

Once he reached the two doors, the saved soul unlocked the container with both hands and pulled the metal doors towards him. Then the light seeped inside and revealed the whole collection of weaponry that had been stolen on that fateful day. The Archangel of Death was going to be happy at this recent development and he hoped the effort was worth the violence against the saved souls in Michael’s service.

Alexander Morris appeared on his left, carrying a small cylinder device, and dropped it on the ground. The bottom quickly extended out and formed a tripod as the top slid open and a blinking white light flickered. In the blink of an eye, a white flash appeared before a squad of seven soldiers in blessed weaponry and armor crafted by Powers stood before him. They were a relieving sight for the Purgatory Investigator as the squad leader approached him and tapped him on the shoulder. “Good haul, people. Why don’t you guys sit back and relax? We’ll take it from here.”

The time-traveling cowboy pulled out a cigar and started to smoke as he walked over and joined him. “There’s a saloon nearby. Let’s see if we can make some field requisitions while we’re at it. How’s your shooting iron?”

Pavel looked at the weapon hanging from his side. “It’s a fine weapon. Just glad that this is all over.”

A limo and a sedan arrived in a parking lot not far from the beach. Both were packed with toys for the active members of the hotel while extra swimsuits were piled in the trunks in case someone’s bikini stretched too far or snagged by the ocean current. Artyom stepped out of the passenger seat of Mayberry’s car as his boots tapped against the pavement. It was a hot day and even his feet could feel the intense humidity on him.

Car doors opened as he turned to his left to see the others step out of the limousine in swim trunks or bikinis. Merely stealing a glance was enough to make the disguised sinner an outsider among the clique. Even the woman he rode shotgun with had embraced the mood of the setting with a blue top and yellow capri pants. Perhaps he should have fitted himself a pair of swim trunks? Yet, he would rather encase himself in a Soviet diving suit than showcase a bit of his ‘flesh’ to outsiders, presuming the rest of his body was flesh in this sinful disguise.

A small strip of grass was all between the vehicles and the sandy beaches. Three empty picnic tables lay in front of him, enough for the group to rally around and rest if they grew tired. Past them was the sand itself before he looked further to see the wave currents gradually diminish in magnitude upon reaching the shores. The last time he properly got acquainted with the beach, it was when he rescued a group of imprisoned slaves locked inside a shipping container full of bandits and raiders. That was after he had to deal with a pack of savage humans who lost their souls and ability to think.

Nifty ran past him and started to set up the tables for food. It began with her bringing several columns of paper plates and red solo cups then boxes of plastic utensils. He was just amazed at how quickly she was at providing service to everyone else. What exactly did she do to find a place in Hell? Maybe he should ask Uhlman to grant him file access to everyone who was here.

The Russian never got a chance to gather his thoughts when Angel Dust and Husk brought out two metal poles wrapped in netting. It was a rare moment when he noticed the cat with wings smile, letting out a small chuckle before he grew curious about the intentions they had with their items. “What’s that for?”

“Volleyball net. We’re going to enjoy a nice game before getting ourselves wet.” Answered the pink spider as all six of his arms seemed to be doing most of the lifting compared to the grumpy man at the front, “You should join us. The more the merrier!”

“Unfortunately, I won’t. It wouldn’t be unfair to everyone involved but I appreciate the offer.” It was really an excuse to avoid interaction but more importantly, he merely desired to appreciate the atmosphere than partake in it.

“Oh well, your loss.”

Mrs. Mayberry’s voice grabbed his attention as she walked over to him and dragged two coolers over to him. “Hey, can you make sure these don’t get in the sun? I forgot about the ice and I know the others are going to be thirsty. Plus, I need to fetch some snacks.”

“Ladna.” He acknowledged before she walked back to the car and he dragged the two coolers towards the picnic tables and slipped them underneath. The shade would provide enough as he sat down and watched the others enjoy their time. Yet, his eyes trailed over his shoulder to see the teacher pull out of the parking spot and drive off into a nearby suburb. Then he returned his gaze to the beach as sweat and heat began to build up underneath his gas mask.

Charlie and Vaggie jogged to the beach with surfboards in hand while wearing red and black lace bikinis. It was cute seeing the princess of Hell happy with her girlfriend; yet, Artyom had to keep his head on the swivel due to his new objective of keeping her safe. The soldier wanted to discourage her exposure but it would only spoil the would-be fun they were about to have. Even if he tried, it would only garner suspicion from the others about his intentions. Then he saw Vaggie turn her head and steal a glance at him, the sinner’s smile fading as if she had seen a ghost. What exactly did she see that made her reaction?

A humming Alastor approached him with his microphone stand in hand. The overlord was in a good mood today based on his whistling alone. “You won’t partake with us?”

“Not my thing,” He replied as Nifty opened an umbrella and the sunlight was removed from his face. There was a temptation to join but his habits as a stalker were difficult to forget, “Just like to sit back as a casual observer.”

“Then why did you come along? Everyone at this hotel is interacting with each other in some shape or form but you show reluctance to be with them all. Just… why?” It was a thought-provoking question but Artyom had no intention of entertaining a conversation in philosophy. His eyes shifted and looked up to find a puzzled Alastor looking down at him.

“Maybe next time when the time is right but let me enjoy a bit of my loneliness.”

Alastor’s eyes gave him a hard stare before turning away from the Russian and approaching the duo splitting up an area to fully make a volleyball court in the sands. Not a word was spoken but the disguised saved could feel something wrong about him. Nonetheless, he has left alone as the others began to run into the water, drenching their skin and clothes together before swimming out to the open.

A normal soul would be enticed to join them but the Purgatory investigator couldn’t find the time to see it acceptable. His gut felt strange as if an ill fate was about to befall him in the future. He knew not why but only that it will happen. Perhaps that sensation was his body reacting to being alone but it could also be a hint at what the future had in store for him. After all, it was the same sentiment that fell upon his shoulders when the Aurora traveled to Novosibirsk, the train to D6, and the Dark Ones in his mind at Ostankino Tower.

The feeling of dread would do him no good; yet, Artyom would have to accept it. Waiting for destiny to bring terrible tidings was a painful experience, more so than the actual event itself. Such was life as a post-apocalypse survivor. It was a shame that Pavel was not here to keep him company, at the very least, his humor would be enough to raise his spirits.

His ears caught the sounds of an incoming car entering the parking lot behind him. A commotion of voices talked over each other and it was difficult to discern what they said. What was certain is their petty conversations about the most unimportant of details in their lives. That soon changed when a familiar voice spoke. “Will all of you quiet down?! I’m trying to sober up!”

“Verosika?” He wondered if it was her before shifting around on the bench and turning to face the parking lot. The spot that was once taken by Mayberry’s car had now become occupied by a pink vehicle without a roof. A dark and muscular Hellhound was behind the wheel with the recognizable succubus sitting in the passenger seat wearing a pair of shades that were shaped like hearts. The back of her car was occupied by seven other succubi and incubi. How she managed to get them to sit comfortably together was an amazing wonder in itself.

“Hold the fuck up, no way? Is that who I think it is?” She stepped out of the vehicle and approached him. Despite her beautiful appearance, Artyom noticed the Hellborn stumbling with each step while carrying an unscrewed flask in her hand, “Hello handsome, I don’t know how you managed to get to Lust but you are a sight for sore eyes.”

Then her latest step made her trip forward before her body leaned toward the ground. The company she brought with her cried out in terror, helpless that their friend’s drunken state brought the succubus to this. Without a thought, he rushed over to her aid and slid underneath the woman’s shadow as he extended his arms out. His old noble habits of his never died out when she crashed into him. She chuckled while looking at his act of good gesture.

“My hero! Thanks, I’ve been having an off morning. I think you deserve a bit of something.” Verosika wrapped her arm around his neck and pulled herself upward until her lips touched the gas mask covering his face. Although embarrassed, the Russian desired to reciprocate the very same feelings he had for her by slipping the gas mask up and leaning close to stealing a kiss. It was strange to find the Hellborn giggle before she laid her head into his chest.

“So uh, what exactly are you doing here?” He wondered as the timing of the succubus and her crew was surprising, “Are all of you on vacation?”

“Kinda. I got an upcoming concert but my friends and I are going to party hard before we get to practicing. But seriously, how did you get here? Sinners aren’t allowed to leave Pride.”

He had to be honest with her while his head looked up and saw the beach with Angel Dust leaving the water before making his way over to him. “I’m accompanying Princess Charlie. She wanted to spend her vacation with the rest of the people at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“Fuck me sideways and call me a nymph,” It was the strangest phrase that the woman had ever produced but Artyom went with whatever analogy she was going with, “How did a guy like you end up in a joke of a hotel? What does she have that other hotels don’t?”

The homosexual spider walked over to the duo as the Hellborn in the car began to jump out of their seats. He left a wet trail of footprints from the ocean up until his feet sunk into the grass. Yet, the sinner was in close proximity to make a statement. “The princess? She gives us free housing and, get this, Charlie pays us to stay there.”

“Angel Dust? The pornstar? I thought it was a rumor?” Soon she jumped out and landed on her feet encased in a pair of high heels and turned to face him.

“It’s real sugar tits. Nice to see the cock siren pay us a visit. I should be honored but I’m worried your mouth would be full.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” The succubus mocked before Artyom rose from the ground and stood by her side while the posse began running over to the beach and taking their clothes off, save for their undergarments Then she took a quick swig of her flask and smiled at him, “You managed to get away from Valentino. How?”

His expression changed into one of sadness as if carrying a deep shame with him. That was a feeling that the saved understood quite well before the homosexual’s face scowled at his internal thoughts until he looked over his shoulder at the princess of Hell surfboarding in the distance. “Princess Charlie. She wanted me to help with her little experiment and gave me a place to stay. It’s a lot better than goons waking me up in the middle of the night and dragging my ass to the studio.”

“That’s good to hear. I hope Val knows better than to test her highness’ patience.”

“A bit optimistic but hopefully he wouldn’t dare.” The sorrow in his voice had expressed nothing but the pain from the heart.

Artyom stepped forward and patted him on the shoulder as a way to reassure him. “My time in Hell has been very brief but whoever this otmorozok is, I’ll give him a piece of my mind and a bullet with his name on it.”

“You got balls, I’ll give you that but he’s an overlord. The guy has a small army behind him and if he wants my asshole, he’ll do everything he can to get it.”

“Then he has never met me,” It was quite the statement but he could at least back his words with the actions of the past. His confidence brought a smile to the gangster’s face as he continued to reference the sin against the Dark Ones, “There is a reason why I’m in Hell.”

Someone shouted from beyond the shores. A cyclops girl in a blue two-piece swimsuit grabbed Angel’s attention as she rose from the water. “Hey, fluffy boy, we’re going to start a match. Want to join?”

He turned around and matched her tone with his. “I’ll be right there, just give me a sec. I’m catching up with a coworker.”

“Alright, it’s me and you against the Radio Demon and his cat.”

Husk displayed his annoyance with his designation as his wings fluttered to dry themselves. “I am not his cat!”

Angel Dust returned to the conversation with a genuine smile on his face. “Hey, I appreciate the support from both of you. I’ll find a way to make it up somehow.”

Artyom shook his head and rejected the suggestion. “No need from me. Consider this a gift of mine.”

“Maybe Charlie’s hotel wasn’t a bad idea after all? I’ll get going before Cherri blows a gasket.” He departed from the conversation as he ran over to the makeshift volleyball court and initiated a game with Alastor, Husk, and Cherri.

“I wonder, how do you and Angel know each other?” He now directed this question at the succubus by his side before looking at her.

Verosika screwed a cover over her flask but once she finished screwing her drink to a tightening grip, her mood changed. “We used to go to the same porn studio. There’s a lot of money to be had with showing some skin but the place is owned by three overlords. One of them treated our friend here as a mere plaything - a sex toy if you will. Poor guy’s been abused and trying to find a way to escape him since then.”

“That explains much when I first met him,” The Russian let out a sigh and watched the others smile and laugh. Maybe this whole hotel and the people living there were merely putting up a mask for others, a way to endure their experiences and cope with the past. It made much more sense as he thought about it, “Here’s hoping his fears don’t come true. There will be hell to pay if it does.”

“Do you ever hear yourself? There’s no such thing as justice around these parts. Angel should count himself lucky that he has the protection of Lucifer’s daughter to keep Val away.” It was tempting to try and be open with the succubus but it would merely expose his identity and the truth. Every fiber of his soul wanted to showcase that there was such a concept of nobility; however, the restrictions placed by the Department of Purgatory for his mission were difficult to accept.

“Nonetheless, I’ll be there when that day comes.”

She then wrapped her arm around his. “It is stuff like that that makes your company even more enjoyable but let's not ruin our moment with this sad shit.”

“So what do you have in mind?” He was here to spend his time on the beach and now, Verosika may have given him a reason to finally enjoy it in his way, “I don’t want to exactly steal you away from your friends.”

“They won’t mind. I figure they would need a break from me anyhow. You? To see if this random sinner is actually worth my time, unlike my ex-boyfriend.” The tone of the succubus became dangerous upon referencing his imp boss. He did not know what to make of this; yet, the Russian sought out to clear out the mess of emotions in the atmosphere of the conversation.

“Be honest with me. What am I to you? A spiteful excuse to mend a broken heart, ready to be discarded like a dirty bullet, or is this a chance for you to start something special?”

She grabbed his other arm and made him turn towards her. Their hands were locked together, held by the grip of a Hellborn who seemed shaken by such a statement. Then her head was raised with a warm smile revealing all that Verosika had kept underneath the mask of a seductress. “Look, I like you. How often do I find someone who says they’re sorry that they hurt me, upfront? It’s not something you find in a place like this where caring is a weakness to be exploited.”

“I know the feeling. That makes two of us.” Artyom added as he brought her close and hugged her.

Life in the aftermath of the apocalypse molded him; however, it also taught him that having a soft side that appreciated life was not one to be shirked and locked away. No matter what those damned fools who led armies by fear and hatred believed, it would pale in comparison to the men and women fighting for those they loved. After all, the Polis Rangers of the Spartan Order were founded by people who embraced those ideals.

Three imps and a Hellhound were sitting inside their van, parked outside the gates of Stolas’ mansion. The concerted rescue of the boss should have led to a celebration; yet, Railtracer’s arrest changed everything. He would be locked away in the dungeon of Stolas’ mansion with the other unfortunates on the lower levels of the social ladder. Such a fate would almost feel like an eternity and that punishment would spur Blitzo to make a mad gamble of a rescue plan. After all, the sinner was willing to risk the wrath of the law to save his life. So he would return the favor in kind, even if it would break an old friendship and flame.

Two hands rested on top of the wheel, claws gripping around as this would now be the moment of truth. A friendship in Hell was as rare as gold and he would seek it out to keep such a precious commodity nearby. This mere sinner was one of the few relations who deserved his attention, one bound by comradery and care. He contemplated the rescue plan in his head, it was not perfect but maybe it will be enough to get a single soul out of permanent torment in the darkest cell.

Final preparations had been made with a black powder flintlock pistol residing in the holster underneath his jacket and two MP5 submachine guns slung over his shoulders. The firepower would be enough to kill scores of his fellow imps in a short amount of time; however, it would only scratch the paint for a soldier of the Dark Realm. Such a monopoly of protection could be afforded by legions under Lucifer’s greatest, a premium that even Blitzo could not afford. Once the shooting started, it would only be a matter of time until he became another statistic in an average confrontation with the authorities and supposed officials of Hell.

The boss looked to his right to see a worried Loona sitting in the passenger seat. Past her was the gated courtyard that would ultimately lead into the building beyond. Yet, his daughter spoke in a way she never addressed him before. “Dad?”

“Yeah, Loony,” His voice, tired from orchestrating a plan without a hint of sleep since the sinner was put away, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t think you should do this.” It was a painful sound to hear from his daughter but he had no intention to relent even now.

“He helped try to save me. I can’t just let him hang.”

Out from behind his back was the annoying voice of Moxxie. Normally, he would be mad at him but maybe he had the right to criticize him on this one thing that seemed to matter. “Sir, with all due respect this is crazy. Just think for a moment before we do something you’d regret.”

“Of all the times your advice might be the best thing ever, this is the one time I will actually ignore.” It was an honest reply from someone whose relationship with his employees was rocky from the start. Nonetheless, Blitzo looked over his shoulder to see the gentlemen on his left and his wife on the right. Between them was a green duffle bag that contained all the weapons that were repaired and improved by the sinner he was about to rescue.

“No, I have to voice my concern because there may be other options for us,” He explained to the owner of the Immediate Murder Professionals . The imp’s sound advice manages to sink into his head and somehow discourages a chance for a breakout, “How about we talk to Prince Stolas and seek an appeal? Our business is already illegal and he’s already aware of what we do for a living. So why don’t we step out of the van and talk to him?”

Millie looked at her husband, unsure of what to make of his solution to the problem. “Do you really believe it is that simple, dear? We’re imps and the Ars Goetia would laugh at us if we came up to them and released a criminal for breaking one of their ‘oh so sacred’ rules.”

“It’s a long shot but it may work. If it doesn’t, we at least have a layout of the mansion before we start shooting up the place and be on wanted posters for the rest of Hell. We should all be smart about this.” Blitzo turned away and looked to the front of the car with a brief smile on his face. Moxxie continued to prove his usefulness to the company with his wits. Maybe he was right.

“Boss, what’s your decision?” She asked of him with her Wrath accent kicking in, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

It was hard to counter their arguments as he removed the two sub-machine guns slung over his shoulder. Defeated by wisdom, he passed the weapons over to the husband and wife as he stepped out of the car. “Let’s go talk to Stolas.”

“Leave the weapons here. Loona, can you stay in the van and keep an eye on things?”

The Hellhound lifted her arm in the center of the car and showcased a thumbs-up. Her tone was more cheerful, probably after hearing the married imps make progress at providing common sense. “Don’t worry. My nose will catch them.”

Moxxie and Millie opened their doors and followed their employer to the front gate. A mad gamble indeed but this was the life that Blitzo intended to live out or die trying. He was rarely conscious about his decisions until now. As he arrived, a terminal was attached to the bricks on the right side of the entrance. The screen was a dark void that contained nothing until it was flickered to life by a white light, which then revealed a bored Stolas sitting behind his desk writing on paper as an official of Hell.

His eyes were elsewhere, focused and bored while his head rested upon his right arm. An adorable sight for the owner of I.M.P until the nobleman spoke. “Yes, this is a member of the Ars Goetia. If you are here for charity, I am not here for that. Now go away.”

“Hey, Stolas!” It would be his way to earn the owl’s attention as he adjusted his tie. His body felt like Hell was running a train over him, both literally and figuratively, “I want to talk with you.”

“Blitzy? You’ve come to visit me. Why didn’t you give me a call? I would have prepared something along the way and gotten the servants to clean up the place. Say, why do you have your employees with you?” The nervous Ars Goetia was taken aback by the imp’s presence as he put down the pen with a flustered expression. For all of the Hellborn’s position, the boss enjoyed the pleasure of seeing him react in such a way.

“I know you were looking forward for me to have a sweet lunch with you before we hit the sack but this is more business-related. We got to talk about that sinner you arrested.”

He looked at him through the screen, confused for a brief moment until his eyes widened. “Ah, the sinner who broke the cardinal rule about leaving Hell. Yes, I do believe we should talk about that. In fact, I intended to update you about his fate, much to my surprise. Allow me to let you in.”

His feathered finger reached out to the computer’s keyboard and clicked on a button before the metal gates slowly opened inwards. They now had a way inside as the noble leaned back in his chair.

“Give me a moment to finish up, I’ll send someone to greet you.” The terminal turned off as the automated grate gate was fully wide enough for the trio.

They entered the front of the courtyard which contained lavish garden designs and carefully clipped hedges. Blitzo’s head looked back to see the wonder and curiosity of his employees while they walked over to the entrance of the mansion. He made sure to warn them thanks to his previous visits to spend his time with the horny owl and maintain the relationship he had to have access to the Grimoire. “Don’t go near the plants if you want to keep your head.”

Automatic gunfire rang out as he turned around to find Moxxie’s leg being snatched up by the green tendrils of a plant. Its petals retracted, revealing snarled teeth as the imp screamed for his life while firing away his UMP45 while being hung upside down. It was about to end poorly for him as the sentient vegetable mass opened its mouth until Millie lunged at the base of its neck and began stabbing it. A comical moment as the employer tried to hide his laugh while the creature uprooted itself from the ground and immediately crawled away from the pavement before she reclaimed her husband from the freak of nature.

“Not going to lie that was funny,” Moxxie raised his head and glared at him before his hurt pride was soothed by a kiss from his beloved. After she helped him up, they made their way up the front steps of the manor as Blitzo reached into his pocket to provide for the poor man, “Hazard pay for what just happened.”

He stood in front of the duo and knocked on the door for a few minutes. Not long after, it swung open to reveal a young teenage Ars Goetia with unkempt feathers. Wearing a black shawl atop her pink dress with yellow stars, the heiress of Stolas’ house expressed complete disinterest with the newfound guests standing before her while her ears were plugged with headphones and rocking out to the playlist on the handheld device in her hand. Loona would certainly get along with her. “Oh, it’s you. My dad is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

“Thanks. Sorry about shooting up your plants, Octavia.” It was an honest apology by the imp as she peered her head out of the doorway to see where the fight and upturned soil were placed.

“No worries,” The daughter answered with a shrug of her shoulder, “We’ve got hundreds of plants around here. That one just likes to harass our guests when we’re not looking.”

She retreated further inside the building as the trio of Hellborn closed the door upon entering. Great splendor littered the entrance hall before the head of the group brought his companions with him. The last thing he needed was for his employees and friends to be interested enough to steal what valuables were shiny enough for the market.

It was an expansive place, even Blitzo’s previous visits were not enough for him to map out the building’s entire layout once he was inside. Every room and hallway was a maze in of itself save for the few locations the imp traveled for business or pleasure, both on some occasions.

When they reached the kitchen, they found Stolas sitting at the end of a long table. His fingers are tied together and his elbows are on the table. His expression was one of delight; especially, when it came to his company. “Blitzo! How has it been? I know that ever since my troops and I rescued you from that dreadful place, you weren’t pleased with the arrest of your employee.”

“Wasn’t pleased?” He may have loved the man in bed but there was some degree of freedom that the imp wouldn’t allow, “That’s putting it politely. He rescued my asshole from those humans.”

“Yes. I know that. It’s an admirable trait but despite his actions, I have my obligations to fulfill and that was one of them.” Defended the owl while the boss approached the other end of the table and pointed his finger at him.

“You made an exception to me fucking around on Earth, why not him?”

“He’s a sinner,” Stolas explained while trying to maintain his decorum of being a nobleman full of manners. He took a deep breath before adjusting the crown atop his head, “If it was a Hellborn, we wouldn’t have a problem. A succubus, a Hellhound, and even imps can be on Earth and do whatever they want so long as they clean up. A sinner is expected to be in Hell and stay in it. Otherwise, both of us would receive the wrong kind of attention and I am not talking about my superiors or those idiots in suits and ties.”

Just what exactly was he implying? Who exactly would focus on a group of assassins from Hell trying to make ends meet? “Who then?”

“Heaven. You and the rest of society may think that they’re merely a bunch of goody-two-shoes with a stick up their ass whenever extermination day comes up but they are very aware of what goes on the mortal planes. They can tolerate enough tomfuckery from us until they act and when they do, it’s a bad time for everyone involved. The last thing for all of us is Lucifer expressing his absolute anger.”

The way he spoke about those people made his skin crawl. His encounter with the C.H.E.R.U.Bs was still in recent memory and he did throw a mess in their mission before he and his crew left the scene of the crime. Maybe Heaven wouldn’t notice his actions; yet, he remained unsure about that incident. “Okay, I get it. Now what about Railtracer? Is he still in your dungeon?”

“Not anymore,” Answered the Ars Goetia as he rose from his chair and locked his hands behind his back, head tall with pride. Did it mean that the Russian was killed while he contemplated his rescue? “You should count yourself fortunate. This employee of yours was paid a visit by none other than Lucifer himself and he was in a pleasant mood since he lives at the Hazbin Hotel.”

Moxxie could not help himself from speaking up and remarking about Stolas’ response. “Satan’s balls, I never thought he’d give any attention to anyone outside his court.”

“You would be surprised. This fallen angel tries to keep himself informed thanks to an army of spies and their intelligence networks, even if he must speak to a mere sinner.” The noble replied as a hint of his royal background shined through his words.

The news was a relief for Blitzo as he relaxed his shoulders and his existence stopped worrying about Railtracer’s fate. It was a good thing that his long-time companions talked sense into him; otherwise, they would have broken into a manor and not found their latest addition to I.M.P. “Thanks Stolas, I appreciate everything you’ve told about my arms repairman. Ever since his arrest, you’ve had us worried there.”

“It’s fine. I completely understand your perspective. This time, you owe me a date.”

“Don’t sweat it!” He dismissed the whole conversation with a wave of his hand. Without his mind on the verge of a mental breakdown, the boss knew that this meeting would come at a cost. At the very least, he could repay his lover’s information with a decent spot to take him to, “How about Ozzie’s?”

Behind his back, he could hear Millie squealing with joy before whispering to her husband. “Didn’t you say you were going to take me to Ozzie’s?”

“Don’t worry dear,” Moxxie reassured her, “I got it planned.”

Verosika wrapped herself in a white towel while her wings fluttered, the last drops of water from her recent shower splattering the white tile walls. She was pleased with herself after bringing the sinner on board her yacht and spent the time seeking pleasure from his company. Safe to say, Railtracer was quite the man under the sheets as if he was an expert in the art of making love. Maybe the sinner was worth it after she opened the bathroom door and cold air blew past her, chilling the skin of the succubus.

The moment she stepped into the bedroom where the magic happened, the Russian was laying down on the queen-size bed. He was almost bare naked except for a pair of boxers and a bracelet being his only underwear after an hour of sex. She wondered why he needed to cover up the important parts of his body given that it consisted of a skeleton on fire but perhaps it was a byproduct of when he was once alive. Beside him was a metal tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and the popstar could see that he had eaten based on the chewed remains of fruit.

She approached the mattress and gently laid her body on the opposite side before picking one out of many and biting the crusty chocolate layered atop the juicy delicacy. Only the wealthy could afford such a luxury and the man in front of her was one of the rare sinners to have a taste of the life they once had. “How is it? I figured both of us would be hungry afterward.”

His blue-flaming face smiled before the skeleton within opened to speak. “It’s sweet, just like you.”

“Oh,” Blood flustered through her face since she didn’t anticipate his remark. Yet, the man’s way of charm was admirable, “I suppose you have any experience when it comes to taste.”

“It’s not something I would brag about.” He admitted as he took another strawberry and made a massive bite.

“Glad that I’m not dealing with a shithead who talks about how many women he’s fucked.”

The statement sparked a laugh from Railtracer as he rolled over to his back and looked at the ceiling. What did she say that amused him? “If that was the case, I would be a disappointment. No, the only other woman I have loved was my wife… back on earth. Back then, she was my one and only.”

“It would have sounded sweet if you weren’t in Hell.” She said as his facial expression changed.

“I’m here for a different reason, one I’m not too keen to tell.”

Verosika could sense the pain in his voice and knew better than to press someone’s past. The succubus would find out in due time as everyone had a secret they would spill so long as they were willing. As she thought about him, his words from earlier affected her. “So does this mean that we’re officially a couple?”

“Yes.” He leaned in close and stole a kiss from her lips. It was a mere few minutes but the confirmation validated and reinforced the relationship that Blitzo was unable to maintain.

There was a loud shuffle of feet tapping against the floor outside of the bedroom. What followed was inaudible shouting on board the boat as they continued to get closer and arrive at the front of the door. Soon the duo looked to the right side of the room and saw the door swing open, revealing several lithe figures in swimsuits. It was then that the pop star realized that she was looking at the princess of Hell and her entourage from the hotel.

She would have been embarrassed to be in her presence but then the singer saw the shock upon their faces as her highness widened her eyes at the scenery. The moth girl beside her placed her hand over her mouth while Angel Dust was tall enough to look over their shoulders snickering like a schoolgirl. Then Charlie stepped into the bedroom with cheeks redder than the paint of her clown face. “Railtracer! Why did you leave us in the dust and run off with this woman?”

“Hey, I invited him,” Verosika stated upfront as she rose her upper body from the bed while her legs remained rested, “Not my fault that he wanted my company.”

“He was supposed to spend time with the rest of the hotel.” The princess replied with her arms crossed while the Russian scratched the back of his head.

“Maybe it wasn’t worth his time?”

The mood changed when he spoke. “I mean no offense Charlie but a beach party isn’t my thing. I’m sorry to disappoint but Verosika and I were… How do I put it? Trying to kickstart a relationship and it just so happened she showed up around the same time.”

“It’s still not cool,” Stated the disappointed royal as she rubbed her temples at this situation, “I suppose I can forgive you for something so minuscule.”

Angel Dust shoved past the group and stood behind her. “Hey, give him a break. My friend here is trying to catch some tail. You can’t blame him now.”

“You do realize that the hotel’s credibility is still on the line, right?” She said.

Then the succubus ate another strawberry before continuing her place in the conversation. As much as the idea of a redemption hotel was ridiculous, it was better not to antagonize the daughter of Lucifer. “Technically, it would still have some credibility. How often do you hear stories about a sinner going to a hotel to seek redemption while also getting some pussy like mine? That’s the sort of shit that attracts media coverage and the more people who are aware of it, the more people are inclined to come over, regardless if it's 666 News or my agent. So give my boyfriend some slack that he’s willing to give you the time of day.”

“Yep, that’s the succubus I know,” Commented the homosexual spider as he burst out laughing before stepping in front of the entourage and stole a look at Charlie’s face, “If there’s one thing I know about Vers, it’s that she knows how to handle it like I am with cocks.”

“As much as I would love your company, I would like all of you to scram.” She added with a vicious tone to her voice.

Charlie’s face was different as if a lightbulb hit her before she snapped her fingers and stormed out of the room. “Guys! Give them a bit of privacy!”

“Uh? Can anyone explain what just happened?”

The moth girl with one eye answered, finally joining. “Dear god, Charlie came up with an idea.”

Chapter Text

It was difficult to teleport an entire truck through the Isra system but the safe house crew performed admirably in the Pride’s badlands so that the department could secure the weapons shipment in the open desert. Better to localize the fighting in an abandoned town than risk further deployment of the Gendarmes to eliminate witnesses in urban areas such as Pentagram City. Even if they would encounter any signs of life such as the demonic possessors, they would not be immune from Heaven’s inferno rounds. This would be a short-lived victory and if the conspiracy to tear down Lucifer’s order remained, the Department of Purgatory would take what they could get. Although their duty was neverending, it was only a matter of time until the perpetrators found themselves in a corner and unable to keep themselves from the light.

Tony stood on the platform of the garage as the shutters were raised. The weapons shipment was entering by reversing its wheels while the blue container inched closer to the yellow caution paint by the edge. By the flanks were several squads of Gendarmes backing up and guiding the rear into position while protecting the front. Then the vehicle in front of Courier Six stopped as the driver and his passenger doors were swung open, the occupants walking up to him. Uhlman and Pavel approached him and pulled themselves up to his level. “Nice haul, gentlemen. Did any of you receive any trouble?”

Uhlman was the first to stand as he regained his breath. His hand brushed the hair on his head and face before staring face-to-face with him. “We managed to deal with the convoy but it seems the people involved are being open about their intentions.”

“In what way?” He needed additional clarification from the Russian. The former post-apocalypse mailman would have to make his report to Azrael once they finish checking its contents, “Every detail matters.”

Pavel struggled to get onto his feet before he walked to the container doors and unlocked the mechanisms. Then he paused the moment they were cracked open. “The guys we ambushed… they were wearing Holy Army uniforms. None of them were wearing disguises.”

“What? That makes no fucking sense.” Hearing this was enough to throw him into a conundrum as the second-in-command walked back and forth from the container to the wall behind his back. What was the point of the charade?

“It’s strange, right?” Commented the former communist as he leaned his back against the door and crossed his arms, “All of us hear about an attack on a Holy Army convoy and after it spends some time in Hell, we see it move and it’s being protected by Holy Army personnel.”

“Were you able to identify the corpses or do anything about them?”

“You know how it is with my crew. They’re not interested in the analysis after we make a mess of things,” Uhlman said with a casual tone to his voice acknowledging their former mortal backgrounds as handymen, not intellectuals. His hand reached for the pocket on the front of his Kevlar vest and pulled out a cigarette. Feeling considerate, Tony pulled out an engraved lighter from his pocket and flipped the top open. He sparked a flame before one end of the cigarette was brought over to ignite a flame, “Luckily, Doctor McClintock popped in and started gathering the bodies for forensics. You know how he is when it comes to reading corpses. He’ll send a memo your way when he’s finished.”

It was some measure of relief to his problem as the saved soul smiled at his foresight. “Good. Gentlemen, don’t forget this day. We’re one step closer to catching the bastards responsible. It’s a shame that Artyom isn’t here to hear this but he’ll understand. I hope you two give him the heads up and tell him we’re one step closer.”

“You tell him that. I know the man and a speech is not enough to satisfy his vengeance.” He nodded his head from side to side. Uhlman may have had a point about that. The redeemed soul would need something substantial since that was the only reason he joined the investigators in the first place.

Hunter drove to the disclosed location based on the last text message from his benefactor. It was in the western part of Pentagram city, based near a riverside area where the criminal elements of Greed and Pride festered at night. Such a location attracted a multitude of gangs and outfits throughout Hell but the business of smuggling illegal goods between the levels was too good to start a war over. So they begrudgingly turned a blind eye to their operations so everyone could make some quick and easy on-hand cash. Yet, it was an ideal location for a proper meeting.

The sinner parked his car by a lone warehouse by the docks. As he turned off the engine and stepped out of the vehicle, his stomach churned at what he might find. Coming here had risks and the kind of wetwork he performed might be the end of him. It could be that his employer was seeking to eliminate a loose end now that the targets were neutralized or they were sincere with this invitation. Time would tell if he would return to Maria with a chance for redemption or in a body bag.

He approached the front without hesitation while his right hand was hidden underneath his coat. The Russian’s palm rested atop the pistol grip with the coat hiding his ability to brandish his pistol at any moment. His other hand reached for the handle in front of him and turned it before Hunter found himself standing at the entrance to an office. Slipping inside, the damned soul anticipated any surprises until his ears heard a loud ‘ding’ from the moment his first step entered the premises. He closed his eyes and acknowledged the reality that whoever owned this building was well aware of his presence.

When the door behind him closed shut, he saw a door on the far side of the office open. Three figures stepped forward in white and blue pattern military gear. Was this official? It was difficult to tell; however, his eyes squinted to see that they were human despite the black balaclavas wrapped around their faces. The leading individual of the trio spoke as he expressed his boredom to his face in an American accent. “Hunter, correct?”

The Russian nodded with the hope that he could alleviate the chance of this initial meeting turning into a gunfight. “Yes. It’s me.”

“Good,” The stranger reached his hand out and gestured the sinner to approach, “Come over, slowly. Any sudden movements and we will open fire on you. Also, don’t try that cowboy shit on us. I want both your hands up.”

“Understood.” He said, internalizing his current situation with these men while complying with their demands. If they wanted to end a witness to their operations, they could have killed him on the spot. Perhaps his benefactor had a plan for him in mind instead? Even so, Hunter remained vigilant of other possibilities that were quite worse than an execution - torture.

“You are a lucky one, sinner. Today is the day you get your just reward.”

One of the soldiers behind his back had voiced his concern. “Uh, is it okay to tell him upfront?”

The leader of the group had let out a chuckle underneath his mask as he grabbed his Kevlar vest and maintained eye contact. “If our superior wanted to kill him, we wouldn’t go through all of this trouble.”

Once Hunter was face-to-face with the soldier, he nodded to the others to move. They began to surround him as another walked behind his back and began patting his body. Then a hand tapped his holstered pistol before the weapon the removed from his person and handed over to the man in front of him. The masked soldier in front of him snatched the sidearm and inspected it.

“I hope you forgive us for the procedure. Those that do come our way typically have an arsenal’s worth of weaponry,” He remarked before holding on to it as if it was his own. Then he turned around and made his way towards the door, “Gentlemen, escort our friend.”

Both acknowledged his order in unison. “Yup-yup.”

The Russian felt two hands grab him by his shoulder and the back of his collar. One could describe it as a graceful guidance in the right direction but the truth was that they forcefully pushed him to follow their leader outside the office. Hunter was led through the door as he found himself brought into the large confines of the warehouse. To his right was an assortment of armored SUVs with machine guns and miniguns mounted to the top while in front of him was some kind of operations center. Two couches lay in front, facing a television stand connected by wires attached to a video game console and controllers. The left side had its space occupied by several electronic systems and three massive monitors containing cameras covering the various avenues of approach to the warehouse. Yet, the center monitor remained closed shut while the sinner caught sight of a being he would never expect to meet.

Two angels were looking at the monitors while a soul was sitting in front, typing at their behest. Both had halos floating and horns protruding from their heads; yet, there was a difference between the two. One wore a smooth black and white cloak while his wings were gold and the other wore a dark outfit design not too dissimilar from the average exterminators who descended from the white blip overlooking this realm. They talked among themselves, unconcerned about his arrival into their hideout. Yet, he seemed to recognize their appearance knowing that their kind was responsible for the yearly incursions into Hell on Extermination Day. Were they his benefactors?

Soon the party of four stopped as the man ahead of him called out their names. “We got that guy you wanted.”

The extravagant angel turned his head and walked over to the group. He clapped his hands while a large smile showcased his personality. “Thank you, Graves. I think you can tell the guy to relax now that he’s here. Did you find any weapons?”

“Just this pistol,” He answered before passing the weapon over to the representative of Heaven, “Want to give him the news?”

“Why of course?! I gave the guy a task and he completed it successfully.” His eyes shifted over to the newcomer inside the warehouse.

It was a strange moment and rarely did Hunter ever feel uncomfortable in the presence of others until now. Somehow, he felt the urge to take a few steps back until the men behind him firmly reminded the former Polis Ranger. Despite his initial fear, he had to address the benefactor upfront. “You’re the one behind the calls.”

“Yes. It was all me. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Adam. As most sinners know, I’m an exterminator angel but I am the oldest… well, the one who survived.”

“Oh,” Adam’s revelation was a lot to take in. In his honest opinion, one he kept to himself, he felt that he shouldn’t have earned this kind of attention. The truth was, he thought he was working for a low-ranking official from Heaven who was showing a bit of mercy on his behalf. Yet, his actions merely attracted someone he thought was special, “Glad to be acquainted with you.”

The angel stepped forward and reached out. His hand was planted on the Russian’s shoulder while he gleefully smiled at this moment. “I’m here to redeem your soul, right here, right now.”

“Thank you, I am eternally grateful.” He struggled to accept how easy it was to go from his damned existence. It made him emotional that it was so difficult to restrain himself from tears.

“I haven’t even started,” Remarked the joking exterminator as he took a few steps back and looked at the men guarding the newcomer, “Step back.”

“Alright boys, let him do his thing.” The leader commented as their feet shuffled against the concrete floor.

“Thy kingdom comes, thy will be done, in the name of the Father - I hereby grant you the status of redemption from your sinful past for your faithful service to his holy and eternal majesty.”

Hunter barely had a chance to think as a strange sensation roared through his blood. The feeling was unlike any he had ever encountered. His body began to glow over time into a bright red shimmer before it was all replaced by a blinding white light encompassing from his head to toe. He tried to look at his hands and arms; however, not even his sight could catch a glimpse of either. His thoughts reflected upon the concept of redemption as if this angel’s words gave him a way to cleanse everything. Then his unharmed eyes caught a glimpse of his fingertips and noted the fading of the strange changes to his body.

The mortal coil once thought to be lost in life had returned. His transformation finished as the last of the heavenly rays faded out of existence as Adam stepped closer. “Congratulations, sinner, you have been redeemed.”

“I… I’m back in my body,” He couldn’t complete his sentences while running up to the representative of Heaven and giving him a great bear hug, “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome, saved. The truth is, you earned this.” Replied the angel as he gently helped the Russian off his body.

“It’s just that this seemed so far fetch to me that I would actually be rewarded when I was working for you.”

That was the truth. His benefactor just mysteriously found him and gave him a chance for no apparent reason. After several years in Hell, he was certain that there were some strings attached. He was not reassured as the exterminator began to let out a chuckle. “My superior is willing to make some drastic changes around these parts. I’ve been given some leeway in how to obtain those objectives. As of right now, you may relax but there will come a time when I must call upon you. Graves, give him the bracelet.”

“A bracelet?” Confusion settled in as the guards seemed to relax and the leader of the group stepped in front of him and pulled out a small bracelet from the pockets of his Kevlar, “What is this?”

The masked leader of the guards unstrapped his helmet and removed his balaclava, revealing a short-haired blonde with a freshly-shaved face. He smacked his lips and passed it over to him. “Heaven has agents throughout Hell and the big guys upstairs want us to masquerade around the levels as sinners so we don’t piss off Lucifer. If you put it on, you’ll be back in your sinner form in no time. We’ll spend some time here until you feel comfortable heading out.”

“So? Does this mean I can also travel to Heaven right now?” He wondered, curious about the limits of his status. If they could redeem him, could they also redeem his girlfriend back at his apartment?

“Right now, no,” Adam bluntly answered as he relinquished the pistol from his car and back into the hands of the newest saved soul, “Traffic is busy and I need to figure out a way to not interfere with the schedule of the Department of Purgatory. Why do you ask?”

“I’ve settled down with someone down here but she is a nice person. Part of me is thinking if you could redeem her just as you did to me.”

“Ah, I see. We do not pass redemption like candy. She has to earn hers in a similar length as you.” It was a disappointing answer but it never hurts to ask. How was he able to maintain his relationship with Maria if he couldn’t bring her along as well?

One of the idle monitor screens popped to life with the sound of a phone ringing. The nearest exterminator angel acknowledged this before turning to the one standing before Hunter. “Priority call!”

“How unfortunate? Go back to your apartment and sit back.”

Graves nodded to the guards as he led the Russian out of the warehouse and into the empty office space. “Shame that things are cut short. I would have given you the tour.”

The Council of Archangels had been summoned once more. Fortunately, it was not an emergency meeting. The heads of Heaven’s various departments and the High Marshal of the Holy Army paused their current affairs. Retinues of office workers, bodyguards, and secretaries accompanied their masters to the front hall of the council chamber. This would take up the entire day thanks to ancient protocol and procedure from the days of yore.

Archangel Michael hated these days as his peers would engage in politicking or grand-standing speeches to impress the other denizens of Heaven to side with their policies. Wasn’t the same as fighting his brother or the creatures of Hell; yet, it was a duty that he granted upon his shoulder. As the humans say, there was no rest for the wicked. Standing in the lobby, he looked around the marble floor to find cliques of Heavenborn and saved staying close to their superiors. His right was a set of stairs with locked doors at the top.

Gabriel stepped forward from the crowd and walked up to him. His suit of armor clanked from his metal plates tapping against each other. The Judge of Heaven had both of his hands resting on the handles of his swords tied to his belt. He seemed tired based on the way his head shifted as if the helmet with the golden cross weighed heavily on him. Someone had to have knowledge about the one who summoned them. “Brother, any idea on who called us?”

“I believe it was Azrael,” He solemnly answered before looking at the chamber doors, “It must be an update on his current task.”

“If that is the case then there must be substantial progress on his task.” All evidence pointed in that direction and Michael felt relief underneath his black suit and red tie. The Seraphim Guard was asking him to oversee Azrael’s investigation; yet, the Archangel of Death preferred to keep other departments out from seeing how everything was done. After all, a cook doesn’t show how the sausage gets made.

“The silence and waiting better be worth it.”

All heads turned to the top of the stairs as the chamber doors were unlocked and a figure stood above everyone in the lobby. A cold chill ran down Michael’s spine as Gabriel gulped beside him, staring at the eldest brother in the brown robes. Silence ruled them all and for good reason, for it was Israfil - the Archangel of the Apocalypse. His eyes burned crimson red while his brown hair was unkept in comparison to the well-fashioned and formally prepared brothers. A deep and loud voice emanated from his throat, cementing the gravitas for his siblings. “These chambers are open. Council members, to your seats.”

He turned around from the crowd and walked away from their sight. Not long after, the crowd eagerly flooded the steps. The archangel was surprised that despite the countless ages of service, nobody shoved each other out of the way or ran ahead. It was all an organized march in a single hallway. Despite the political differences or ideological standing in these discussions, no evil eyes or backbiting conversations took place. For the archangels and their retinues were the servants of God.

A white light shined from the opposite side of the corridor. As they pressed closer, their eyes adjusted and saw a single wooden chair waiting for them. Israfil occupied it with a brass horn beside him, the very tool to signify the end of times. When they exited the passageway, Michael eyed the fine details of the setup. The eldest brother was in the center of the round table, his being the largest compared to the rest of his kin. Each seat at this place was a spot for an archangel but the saved souls who accompanied them would climb up the banisters and overlook their respective superiors behind a series of desks, chairs, and benches.

The High Marshal took to the chair in front of him and sat down. His eyes trailed across the round table to see his brothers do the same. Yet, not all the chairs were taken as they remained empty since the War in Heaven. It was a reality he had to make his peace with as the remaining members of this meeting trickled out of the hallway behind him. As every member settled in, several feathers floated from above and Micheal looked up to see a black raven flutter above the circular meeting. It glided to the chair on his right as the council waited for the creature to finish its descent.

Soon the bird landed on the ground behind the wooden seat before transforming into a dark puddle and the Grim Reaper arose from the abyss. His bony hands removed the black robes and shroud which lay upon his shoulders, letting them dissipate into nothingness while revealing a finely tailored suit being worn on a skeleton. Minutes passed until Israfil stood up from his throne and gestured his hand towards him. “Azrael, you called everyone to this meeting. Do you have anything to say?”

“Yes,” Answered the Archangel of Death, who turned his head and looked at everyone present in the room, “Now everyone knows that I have been tasked with finding out the perpetrators responsible for the attack on the weapons convoy. Good fortune smiled upon my department and we have reclaimed them.”

The whole room erupted with hands clapping and saved souls cheering at the latest news of his investigation. Even Michael was glad to hear it, knowing that such high-grade firepower was too much of a risk to be in the hands of the sinner and Hellborn. It would be worse if it fell into the arsenals of Lucifer’s forces. Yet, he noticed his brother’s demeanor and saw his skull grind his teeth. Gabriel whispered into his ear from the left. “You notice it too? He’s not cheerful in these developments.”

“Order, everyone. I understand the relief from this news but the council is in session,” Israfil requested, looking upon the balconies containing the archangel retinues. Then he turned his gaze upon his brother, “Do you have anything else to say?”

“There is more. The investigators I sent to intercept these weapons made a discovery.” Azrael continued as Michael stole a look at his kin. They leaned forward anticipating his latest knowledge.

Abaddon sat across from the High Marshal. The sibling seemed agitated at the slow pace of the discussion. “Get on with it!”

“The people transporting the weapons were from the Holy Army.”

His heart stopped for a brief moment before the questions flowed through his mind. He had to be sure that this was not his ears playing tricks on him. “Excuse me? Did I hear this right? Did you just say that the soldiers under my authority were there?”

Azrael’s skull turned to him and nodded. “They were there, not only in uniform but in weaponry and vehicles.”

“This has to be a mistake on your end,” He could not believe what he was hearing from his own brother as he leaned back in his seat and shook his head in disbelief, “Are you absolutely sure that they were mine?”

“What evidence do you have to support these statements?” Questioned the moderator at the center of the room.

“As you all know, the forms that sinners wear in Hell is a reflection upon their deeds in life. That is a fact that we all accept and a reality that forces my investigators to disguise themselves as one of them. When my team intercepted the convoy in Pride’s badlands, they weren’t even disguised. They even wore the uniforms of the Holy Army,” He began while looking at the several dozens of archangels present in the room. Then he turned around and looked at the balcony above him. Azrael always attracted a strange group to the Department of Purgatory. Unlike most of the saved in Heaven, they perhaps had the most freedom in expressing themselves at their workplace. His gaze fell upon a freshly-shaven bald man in a trench coat and some form of body armor inspired by his mortal life, “Tony, disseminate the evidence and our reports.”

The human nodded his head as he reached for a briefcase by his side and opened it. Then he walked from one balcony to the next, carrying a large pile of papers in his hands, passing out packets to the retinues sitting adjacent to his seating arrangements.

“This is situation is beyond what was imagined. There is someone in our ranks who is trying to escalate our cold relationship with Hell into full-scale open war.” Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Yet, if the information being passed around was true, the implications of his ranks operating without his authority would demand a thorough investigation. He liked to believe they were loyal enough to obey his commands but they were ultimately human.

“So what?” Abbadon cried out, bringing the room’s attention upon himself, “Hell continues to be a thorn on our side ever since Lucifer fell from grace. Maybe a good war to end their existence might be good after sitting around and preparing for so long.”

“It is easy to say for someone who doesn’t sift through the damned to relocate the saved.”

“As if they matter in the grand scheme of his plans. Why should it matter to the rest of us? They are your department’s mistakes after all. We can justify their deaths with the destruction of Hell. Let God sort them out, I say.” It was clear by his venomous voice he carried absolute disdain for not only the Archangel of Death but for the unfortunate saved souls who were placed in the dark realm.

The skeleton shook his head and stood from his chair, extending his hand out to the empty seats at the council table. “We represent our Father’s holy will and we would be warmongers if this war takes place? You are so eager to clash with Lucifer a second time that you forget the bloodshed that took the lives of our brothers.”

“So what can we do to tackle this conundrum of ours,” Gabriel said out loud, now bringing the attention to himself, “I suppose there’s a plan in place for this.”

“Absolutely,” Azrael replied as he placed his skeletal hands on the table, “We cooperate with Lucifer.”

Michael looked around and saw hard glares from every archangel in this meeting. He was not surprised by the outcome of those words. Such was the result of a falling out within the brotherhood. What was the logic behind this? “Cooperate with the very brother who betrayed us for the bosom of the Queen of the Succubi. I find that insane.”

“All of you may find that problematic but I do not. Cooperating with him has provided fruitful developments in my department’s investigation and permitted the investigators to perform a thorough search in Hell without going through legal tape. On the other hand, it provides us a look into Lucifer’s inner workings from behind the scenes. This is old news to me but our brother has proved his worth in the depths of Hell.” Minutes of silence followed as the holy servants were speechless.

“He’s working with you on this investigation?!” It was a shocking turn of events to even hear that. Their fallen brother was someone who refused to see them ever since they signed that treaty and now the Archangel of Death was revealing his past dealings, “How did you manage to convince him?”

“The people trying to start the war are also targeting his daughter. Our grievances with him are legitimate but everyone with a sense of worth would realize that she does not carry the sins of her father. That is why I am against mobilization because they’re trying to give us convenient ways to war. If Lucifer could see that then I would expect all of you to do the same or even better.”

This meeting proved far too fruitful for the High Marshal of the Holy Army. His brother’s methods were far too strange for the Council of Archangels; however, they were incredibly effective. He looked over to Abbadon, finding the man’s judgemental attitude written across his face. Today, the brother was going to leave disappointed that the Grim Reaper’s arguments proved resourceful. His mind wandered onto the subject of Lucifer’s cooperation and realized it made so much sense for him to be protective of his family. It was one of his better qualities that shined through despite the stains on his hands.

It was supposed to be a day for the pop star to practice singing her songs so her performance would be perfected on the day of the concert. Yet, it was cut short the moment she received an invitation from Charlie herself. Was it because she stole Railtracer away from the others or something else entirely? Verosika did not know what to make of it, only that now she had the attention of Hell’s most naive girl. Despite her reservations, she was still royalty and maybe it was worth her time.

Driving through the streets of Pride was a painful endeavor. Her popularity in the music genre meant that everyone recognized her and it was quite difficult to navigate around people who either wanted her to sign an autograph on some random girl’s chest or have the gall to ask her out. The only places where that public recognition didn’t matter were her adoptive dad’s coffee shop, her posse, and her new boyfriend. She would have counted Blitzo but he was a complicated matter altogether. Fortunately, she had a fast-riding car with a Hellhound accompanying him in the passenger seat.

Vortex was an excellent member of the posse using his intimidating demeanor to make the horniest of fans think twice about crossing him. Then there’s the fact that he was an excellent cook of Japanese dishes. If he made sushi and yakitori, her group was not eating out. More importantly, he was trusted to tell about the well-being of everyone else. His eyes scanned the surrounding area, alert as usual. “Did you hear about Kiki?”

“No,” Her eyes were focused on the front of her car, making sure no one ever scratched the coat of paint or worse. She couldn’t afford the repair costs since the vehicle was reeling from Blitzo’s driving, “What about her?”

“She’s dating that guy who stole this car. Turns out he’s a chill dude, inviting her on dates and shit.” Good for her. It was time that she found someone; although, the Russian sinner was not a candidate she would have thought of.

“Well, it could have been worse.”

“I know we’ve been invited by her majesty but do you think it’s okay to actually meet her?” It was great to have friends who could question her motives. At the very least, they could attempt to reason or discourage her from making mistakes and there was a history to be had with them. “You don’t have a lot of time to spend right now.”

She tightened her grip on the wheel as she turned around the corner and saw the Hazbin Hotel in front of her. Its structure dominated the local neighborhood as her stomach churned at the upcoming meeting with Charlie Magne Morningstar. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be disappointed with her refined violet dress worn for the day. If her dad was here, he’d order her to go back to the studio and continue practicing, probably using his precious gold coin as an inspiring moment to instill the ‘practice makes perfect’ discussion. “I hate to say it but we’ve got the attention of a princess and we’re going to have to deal with her for a long time.”

It was a straight shot to the building and they would only need to worry about crossing one more intersection before finally meeting the royal. Then the light turned green and Verosika eagerly pressed the pedal forward as the car’s engine roared. As they were about to cross, a black sedan crossed in front of them from the right, causing her to quickly swerve to the left. Her foot slammed against the brakes with the bodyguard holding onto his seat and gripping the handle by the door.

“Fucking damn it!” She swore before looking at the vehicle that got in her way. The pop star eyed the shadows of the driver and passengers inside. Angry, she raised her hand in the air and unfolded a middle finger from her clenched fist. “It’s a red light you dumb motherfuckers!”

The mysterious crew drove off, unwilling to deal with the traffic violation. Soon the succubus shook her head in disbelief before reclaiming the wheel and closing the distance between her and the hotel. Vortex let out an impressed whistle and expressed his opinion on the scene. “Talk about shitty drivers.”

“Thank Satan they didn’t hit my car.” She said with relief as they approached the curb and parked behind a silver limo.

“So what do you think Charlie has in mind?” He curiously wondered out loud as they stepped out of the vehicle and approached the front door, “With a place like this, there’s so much you could do with it.”

“Yeah, it would be nice if this was a regular hotel. Shame she’s using it for sinners with redeeming qualities.”

“Speaking of sinners, who do you think we’ll find here? Not a lot of people were with her the last time we saw them at the beach.” The singer commented, remembering the number of people was barely under a dozen.

Her bodyguard shrugged his shoulders as they reached the entrance. “Hell if I know. Probably the only person we know was Angel Dust but didn’t you notice that he’s a bit more cheerful than usual? The only time we found him is when he’s smoking a joint after Valentino’s… skits.”

“Yeah, he’s normally broody. Then again, he got acquainted with my boyfriend and if that’s anything to go by, he’s a decent fellow for a sinner.”

They stopped and Verosika knocked on the door several times. If the number of people living at this hotel was the same as the amount in Charlie’s clique, it was likely that they would be nowhere near the door. Yet, it was worth a try to meet the expectations of Lucifer’s own family.

She heard footsteps shuffle from behind the door as the shadow of a woman appeared behind the stained glass and began to unlock the door. Once it swung open, she was met by a blonde sinner wearing a pink shirt and a torn black skirt. The woman adjusted her glasses over her eyes, a reminder of her human life before she acquired the horns and the hooves. “Oh, you must be Miss Mayday. Her highness is waiting for you. Come this way.”

They were let in as Vortex closed the door before they proceeded into the hallway. The building smelled stuffy but in a good way, a place where you can find comfort among family and close friends. It reminded the succubus of the days living with the sentient war machine from the War in Heaven, taking care of her when she was just a child. Her eyes trailed at the photos and portraits on the walls, admiring the joyful memories that existed for the princess of Hell.

“So, you’re Railtracer’s girlfriend,” Observed the woman leading them from the front, after they turned around the corner to their left, “I don’t know how but he’s a lucky guy to get attached to you.”

Who was this sinner to start a conversation with her? “You are?”

“Name is Helen Mayberry but most people call me by my last name.” She answered plainly without even giving her a look.

“So you know my man?” Weird that he never did speak of her but then again, neither did he reveal that he lived at the Hazbin Hotel, “Are you two close?”

“It depends on how you define close. I’m probably the only one that talked to about a bit of his life and trusts me enough to fix him a sandwich when he goes to work. Just don’t tell anyone; especially, when you see him again. I think he appreciates some privacy about his past.”

“So you two are friends? Glad that you’re willing to tell me he’s better than Blitzo.” She casually commented.

The woman raised her head and looked over her shoulder albeit confused. “You dated Blitz? The guy in charge of I.M.P?”

“You know him as well?”

“Absolutely,” Mayberry answered with confidence as she smiled before looking ahead. The tone of her voice filled with joy at describing the circumstances, “I hired the imp to assassinate the woman my husband cheated me on. The dumb bastard thought he could get his socks off by a damn whore with a cunt so loose you could hear it whistling.”

Vortex let out a chuckle from behind her back and remarked on the personal connection. “Talk about a small world.”

“Yeah. Blitzo gave me a bit of vengeance there. I even baked his crew a cake to thank them.” She said as her tone calmed by the end of her sentence.

Verosika had to admit but she was beginning to like her. Maybe this hotel wasn’t too bad? Not long after, the sinner brought them in front of a room labeled ‘office’ as she stopped the group. She gently knocked on the door two times as the pop star anticipated her host. Then she heard the voice of the princess on the other side. “Coming!”

“Your highness, it’s Miss Mayday. She’s here.”

“Thank you,” The door swung open as Charlie stood at the door without her iconic red jacket, scanning the surrounding hallway before catching sight of the succubus and her bodyguard, “Helen, why don’t you wait in the kitchen? We’re going to have to have a business conversation.”

She looked over her shoulder and stole a glance at the hellhound. He was not needed here. “Why don’t you join her? I think I’ll be safe with the princess.”

“You sure?” He asked as he scratched his throat, “Alright, give me a call when you two are done.”

“I’m glad you took the time to meet me here,” Charlie expressed as she permitted her to enter while their company departed from the duo. She took a good look at the office to see a desk on the far side of the room with two chairs set up. On the left was a collection of pictures containing memories the royal had alongside her parents, “You are a busy person and I doubt you have any interest in helping me at my hotel but an idea popped into my head when we stormed into your yacht and found Railtracer in your bed.”

“Speaking of him,” She turned away from the sights and approached the princess’ desk as they began to take their seats across from each other. The mere mention of her boyfriend made her wonder about his whereabouts, “Is he here?”

“He’s with Vaggie and Angel Dust. They’re going shopping and dragging him along was his punishment for leaving us at the beach.” She laughed at the statement before leaning back in her chair.

“Can you blame him? It’s not every day that your average sinner gets to tap an ass like mine.” Her hand reached for the bottom of her dress and extended it to prevent exposure between her legs.

The girl nodded her head from side to side as if acknowledging the pop star’s statement. “I understand but this is the Hazbin Hotel and he still has to try.”

Now was the time to get to the bottom of why she was here instead of her music studio. As much as Verosika would have enjoyed the small talk, time was money and singing practice was not being made. “Okay then, so why did you invite me here? I’m not a sinner.”

“The thing is, getting Katie Killjoy to interview me and Angel Dust was a complete disaster,” Charlie admitted hinting at what the media considered to be a massive comedy on live television. Yet, it didn’t seem to deter her attitude despite the setback, “But you have a lot of pull on social media and followers thanks to your music.”

“Just what exactly are you getting at?” She was making a suggestion and her stomach felt an endless pit. It felt terrible and now the woman did not know why.

“I was thinking about letting you make a concert at my hotel. We get free publicity but you get a good place to sing your songs and entertain everyone.”

Her mind thought back to the previous encounter with the princess of Hell and remembered what that moth sinner said. The sheer absolute horror in her voice made this whole situation make sense to the succubus as disbelief took over. “You want me to set a concert at this hotel?”

“Yep? I thought it up at the yacht,” Charlie was eager with her statement, expressing absolute joy about the concept, “Your songs are loved by sinners and Hellborn alike. So it would be great to bring it up before I lose the chance.”

“It sounds nice and all but I have an upcoming concert to practice for and the location is already set. I won’t risk my reputation so you can save yours.” She did not want to be antagonistic towards the heiress of the dark realm but the reality was that the pop star was pressed for time. Even if she did agree to it, the upcoming concert would take so much energy out of Verosika and her posse that they would need time to recuperate.

“How about this? I can pay you all of the expenses needed to shift locations and twice the amount your contract stipulates. That way, both of us can walk away happy.”

The succubus blinked at what she just heard. Did she just say that she would pay for it all? It sounded unbelievable to her ears. “Are you serious? Can you just do that?”

“I’m Lucifer’s daughter,” The princess smugly answered, crossing one leg over the other and placing both her hands in the comfort of her lap, “Money is not a problem for someone like me. So… do we have a deal?”

The Archangel of Death returned to the Department of Purgatory’s main building. Such a meeting with his brothers was a stressful endeavor; especially, when he revealed to them the current situation. Now that was over, he would continue dealing with the unknown threat within the ranks of the Holy Army. Yet, time was now on his side as he pondered about the future in his own lonely company at a bar. The bartender passed a pint of Guinness to him as he grabbed the drink and raised his glass high to honor the saved’s service.

Soon the silence of the conspirators would end. If they intended to seek support from the Council of Archangels, they would be brought out as a target for his holy will. Despite that revelation to the others, there was still work to be done and this opposition would be spurred to action lest the department continues to unravel the efforts. Hell was the only place where they could perform freely and Lucifer’s cooperation was not enough. Unfortunately, Azrael found himself in a predicament where he could not act until there was sufficient information.

A pair of footsteps approached from behind his back before the individual took a seat on his right. Tony let out a tired breath, hunching over the counter as the bartender approached him. “Same as usual?”

“Make it two Nuka-Colas,” He answered, sufficient for the fat gentleman across from him. As the owner walked off to his stand of drinks, the post-apocalypse saved turned his head to his superior, “Long day, boss. Are you sure it was a good idea to tell your brothers about my latest findings?”

The archangel turned his hooded head towards the former mortal. He had his reasons. “Yes. Your report stated that the conspirators were trying to gain influential political support to back their operations. If I had not done so, it creates distrust within their own ranks since I blocked any further access to the resources of other departments.”

“I’ll be damned. It explains why I’m playing second fiddle to you. Still, I don’t know what to do until we get something substantial in Heaven or Hell.” The human admitted as the bartender returned with two glass bottles containing radioactive soda. In another time and another place, Azrael would have discouraged it but he had grown used to his ‘secretary’ having his peculiar tastes.

“Now that I’ve limited a front, we still have to deal with what these conspirators have in Hell if they are able to arm an entire convoy with vehicles,” He stated remembering the after-action reports and the action-to-action details about the success of his investigators. Such preparation wouldn’t be available to the conspirators unless they have their own motor pool Hellside and that would imply secret hideouts as well, “Do we have anything unusual going on in the levels?”

“We do. Our safehouse crews are giving us a stream of reports about personnel being killed both in the field and off-duty.”

“Why didn’t you bring this up if it was too important?” This was news to him and now he was hearing Tony convey this to him at this moment in time.

He popped the bottle cap off this glass of soda and took one long swig at the sugary drink. Then he placed the bottle on the bar and turned his head, facing him. “This just happened over the past week and this came across my desk when we got back. I thought it was just some fluke or some unfortunate investigator but this… seems so systematic. Our people are being targeted.”

“No rest for those like us.”

“You can say that again,” The saved let out a chuckle before taking another sip, “I’d also like to file a request for that special case with that Russian - Artyom.”

There were rare times when his second-in-command would make a suggestion. Not all of them were good ideas but it did showcase his ingenuity when it came to thinking outside of the box. With the situation of war looming over his shoulders, every possibility had to be exhausted to prevent it. “Shoot away, I’m in a pleasant mood.”

“Back when the guy got in trouble with Hell’s authority before you and Lucifer assigned him to be Charlie’s bodyguard, he found a weapon stored away in that building full of demon hunters. Based on the knowledge told by former Detective Hannigan, turns out it’s a blessed holy service weapon and our redeemed saved became its new permanent owner.” Great, a holy weapon in the hands of mortals. Thank goodness the council session was over lest he berate his brothers for their irresponsibility. Yet, this development was indeed worthy of his attention since he owed that man more than a chance at vengeance.

“I take you to have something in mind,” He took another sip at his Guinness, “What do you recommend?”

“Artyom has a two-handed German sword and I think he needs a teacher if he’s going to use it right. Can’t have him swinging it like it’s a two-by-four.”

“Approved.” His ‘sidekick’ was taken aback by his quick response but Azrael had his reasons as he looked across the bar and quietly drank his alcohol. It was not the worst of ideas but neither was it ideal. More importantly, he raised an excellent point since weapons needed to be used correctly if his investigators or gendarmes were to operate in the field.

One large sip was made before the Courier finished his first bottle. Then he burb as his Geiger counter crackled to life for only a brief moment. “You’re not going to resist this idea.”

“Not to worry, I think I have someone in mind,” Recalling his investigator from the Hazbin Hotel was out of the question and it would have been noticed by the occupants of the building. There was only one convenient person he truly knew that would be worth seeking out to spend time dealing with this matter. It might have been a waste of time; however, it could also alleviate the tension between the two realms, “Lucifer isn’t too far away and I doubt he wouldn’t mind a bit of practice.”

The Grim Reaper turned over to his assistant and saw a man drop his jaw in complete shock at his response.

They were supposed to be fetching groceries but somehow Angel Dust interpreted this as an excuse for shopping. Now they were brought into a clothing store to try out new apparel for future events that Charlie would have in mind. At first, Vaggie was annoyed at the homosexual’s distractions but her mood changed when she found a traditional El Salvadoran dress which was dyed in red and black. Nonetheless, it interfered with her plan to deal with the threat ever since Alastor informed her about the Russian sinner.

She pretended to busy herself in the women's section of the store, glancing through the poorly disorganized dresses. Yet, it gave her the full view of Railtracer sitting in a chair beside the changing room four rows across. The only time he would stand would be to pass over an array of dresses to the porn star before sitting back down and looking at his phone.

Every thought of hers pondered at the possibilities of dispatching him. Killing him right now would eliminate his presence but she would have to explain it to the Italian gangster and her beloved about the motivations. Then there was the matter of her source of information. She openly distrusted the overlord living with them and it would look bad if she told the princess of Hell about taking literal information from the sketchiest person at the Hazbin Hotel.

There were other options she could choose as well. If she could isolate the man from the others, it would be a good case to interrogate him on the spot. He had connections to this ‘department’ and learning more would be crucial for everyone’s safety. Though, it came at a price for she had to find a way to end him permanently. The only advantage to be had was surprise and there was great doubt that the arms repairman was on guard ever since the succubus helped him ‘relax’ from the regular existence in Hell.

Angel Dust appeared from out of the changing room in a cowboy outfit. A black hat lay atop his head and a brown vest that matched the color of his trousers - all of which would be wrapped underneath his navy blue coat. He smiled with great delight, enjoying the theme of his clothing as he stole a glance from what was effectively a newly acquired friend. It was rare to see him in such a good mood; yet, it also saddened her that it was a relationship not meant to last. “I think I’m done. What do you guys think?”

“Just remember where your gun is,” Men and their humor. Vaggie always hated their crude jokes and never understood why it was on par with an insult as she stepped out from the aisles and rows to join them, “You look good in that. All you’re missing is a single-action revolver to make a complete set.”

“It’s definitely missing that cherry on top but I’ll be fine. Well, I can’t wait to get those damn cannolis next door.” She could sense his eagerness and the sinner could not blame him. It was one of the few pleasure foods that reminded him of his life.

“What’s a cannoli?”

The moment that Railtracer said those very words, he turned to his left and looked at him with a gasp on his face. She could tell that he was insulted, which was one of the rare moments to appreciate whenever it came up. Now was the time to end this shopping spree with him. “An Italian dessert. Very sweet but an excellent treat to have on the rare days you’re in a good mood.”

“Thank you!” Cried out the gay spider as he threw his hands into the air, “Even the Mexican taco knows what I’m talking about.”

“Alright, take your clothes to the Razzle and Dazzle. I’ll work something out with the manager.”

She needed to get him away from what she was about to do; fortunately, it didn’t take much to encourage him to leave. Vaggie looked to her right to see the silver limo outside the store as the porn star rushed over to the front door with his clothes in hand. The two goat servants were sitting at the front of the vehicle with their windows down, eating donuts. They were minding their own business, which was a good sign for what she was about to do.

The Russian was just about to head toward the door before she called upon him. “Hey, I could use your help with something.”

“Me?” He seemed surprised as he stopped and turned his head, confused and perplexed, “What do you need me for?”

“I’m going to try out a dress but I don’t trust Angel to help me with that.” Men were always animals, why should he be any different? Maybe the prospect of seeing her body would be enough to invite him into the changing room.

“Ladna, let’s make this quick. I’m looking forward to tasting whatever that is.”

The moth sinner swiftly rushed into the small room and saw a bench on her right. She tossed her dress on the seat before stealing a glance at the mirror to her left. A small sense of relief as she stepped to the side and waited for Railtracer to arrive. Meanwhile, the woman reached underneath her skirt for a knife holstered on her thigh. Every second felt like time froze while her hand tightened the grip on the blade’s handle. Then his footsteps approached unaware of what was prepared for him. She would act the moment he entered.

When he walked through the doorway, the sinner grabbed him by his collar and shoved him into the wall in front of her. As he stumbled and crashed, Vaggie slammed the door shut before leaping across with a blessed knife drawn. She immediately placed the edge by his throat, enough to threaten but not accidentally cut him open. Her free hand pressed against his chest as he expressed his absolute surprise at the situation while holding a zipped-up dress for Angel Dust. All she had to do was ask her questions about this mysterious organization he worked for. “Alright, pendejo. What is this department you’re working for?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Time was precious and she had no desire to entertain useless dialogue. The moth slammed her high heels into his foot as the sinner in front of him growled in pain, “What was that for?”

“Answer the question!” She demanded while pressing her blade deeper into his throat.

“I… I…”

Vaggie was surprised by the lack of resistance on his part. She had expected the man to put up more of a fight while anticipating the information he was going to give.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” It was disappointing but maybe he was attempting to make a final act of resistance, “You are one swipe away from dying.”

“Don’t you know? These kinds of interrogations don’t really work.” Railtracer remarked before she slammed her knee into his crotch, causing him to kneel over. The woman gave him a moment of reprieve from the pain until she pressed him against the wall.

“Do not fuck with me. Who is this department?” Time and patience were running out before the others would notice.

Everything changed when she saw him lower his head and almost embrace the knife itself. Yet, her advantage came to an end when she felt a piece of a metal jab at her stomach. She stole a glance below her chest to find the barrel of a pistol protruding out from underneath Angel’s clothes. “The truth is something that I will take to the grave even if you have to join me.”

“You could have shot me, right here and now.”

“I could but it would be difficult to explain to Charlie why both of us are lying in our blood,” He replied; however, he lowered the pistol from her, “How about we relax?”

She shook her head at the suggestion as that would presume he had the upper hand in the conversation. “Not going to happen. Alastor told me about your secret conversations.”

“The overlord?” He scoffed at the indication underneath his gas mask, “Are you really going to take the word of a man who is more likely to backstab you than I am?”

“Unlike my girlfriend, I actually think things through.”

Their impasse continued for a few minutes. Vaggie stared into the sockets of his gas mask to see the flickering flames until the Russian let out a defeated sigh. “There are rules that I have to abide and spilling my guts out cannot be tolerated.”

“Finally,” Her knife remained but she pulled it away from the sinner’s jugular, “So what can you tell me?”

“Lucifer requested me to act as Charlie’s bodyguard.” The moth stepped back, shocked by the revelation. This was the secret that Railtracer carried with him? Then again, it made sense when he arrived at the hotel with the rulers of the dark realm.

“This department… did they choose sinners to work for her father. Why didn’t you mention that?”

“There are many things in my work that involve plenty of secrecy,” He answered as his body relaxed before checking the state of the clothes, “Besides, it was a recent assignment that seemed to work alongside my undercover employment under I.M.P. Better to hit one bird with two rock, they say.”

The vigilant member of the Hazbin Hotel placed her foot on the bench and sheathed her knife. Her suspicions had credibility but maybe Alastor was a deceitful shit who just wanted to stir trouble. Then she turned to the sinner and slightly opened his mask to get rid of the build-up of hot air. “I’m sorry I treated you like that. Maybe I’m just paranoid but Charlotte is someone I dearly love. I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Railtracer laughed before refitting his mask over his face. Once the straps were tightened, his gaze fell upon the woman, “I’ve been in your position before… back when I was alive.”

Loud footsteps shuffled outside of the changing room as the door was kicked open and one of the goat servants appeared before them. His snake-like eyes blinked with genuine fear as he raised his arms outside. “Angel Dust is in trouble. A group of guys came up to him while he was ordering cannolis.”

“Chyort!” The sinner swore in his native language as he rushed past the goat.

Vaggie ran up to the creature and dragged him along as they exited the room and chased after their companion. Once the duo ran out of the store, they looked both ways to see where Railtracer had gone. Then they heard an engine roar followed by gunfire before they turned to their left to find a black sedan turning around the corner and approaching their direction. Yet, the Russian sinner stormed out from the bakery next door and appeared into their view on the sidewalk with his pistol drawn.

The vehicle rolled down its windows as a Greedling peered out of the back window in a wife-beater shirt with a submachine gun in his arms. “Valentino sends his regards!”

Soon the pistol-wielding arms repairman shot his sidearm at the would-be shooter with a single bullet. Blood splattered over the car’s roof as the body slumped back inside. Three more shots rang out peppering the front of the vehicle as the moth and her goat friend took refuge behind the limo. The man she once interrogated displayed a fearsome depiction of a gunslinger in the form of a Soviet soldier.

The gun fell empty as he ejected the magazine before turning towards her. “It's a kidnapping! Vaggie, take the limo back to Charlie. I’m going to hunt them down.”

Chapter Text

The success of returning the weapon shipment had proved to be a fruitful endeavor. Not only did the crew at the safe house could relax after being tasked with a high-priority objective but they would be rewarded in return. It mostly consisted of gear that was usually kept in reserve for the department’s Gendarmes; however, their weapon lockers were now brimmed with energy firearms or melee weapons. They were recommended to use it carefully and prevent them from falling into the hands of Hell but their arsenal was expanded from now on. The other perk was the improved Heaven-based rations in the case that alleviated their taste buds from the food found in the dark realm and some of its questionable sources.

Pavel took advantage of this in the mess hall with a paper plate containing three chocolate ice cream tacos that he ‘requisitioned’ from the freezer behind his back. His old communist personality screamed at how it was unlike him to enjoy the finer things in life; yet, here he was being selfish with his stomach. As he picked up one of the cold delicacies, Uhlman entered the room in a turtleneck sweater and khaki pants while carrying a plate of nachos. He was glad that he wasn’t alone in appreciating the boon of their work.

Soon the head of the safe house crew sat across from him before picking up a chip covered in liquid cheese. “I might have one of those after I am finished with this.”

“So how is everyone else?” Questioned the redeemed soul before he took a bite out of the sweet dessert. The stress among his peers had subsided since they returned from Heaven and he was curious about their well-being afterward, “I take they’re back in their bunks.”

“Not all of them. Our time-traveling friend, Alexander Morris, returned to Kronotek. The FBC director says her thanks. So unless we have another dire situation like this, it’s back to being a regular listening post with Strelok on the radio.” Uhlman answered before he picked up another chip from his plate.

“Any news about Artyom? He hasn’t been with us for a while now.”

“Tony says his situation became high-class,” Came his reply while his mouth was still crushing the food inside, “The department head seems to have put our comrade in the role of bodyguarding the princess of Hell while keeping eyes and ears on Blitzo and the rest of I.M.P. We won’t be seeing him for a while.”

It was a shame. He was hoping they would take the time to properly hang out compared to what they did in life. Nonetheless, such was life as a Purgatory investigator. “So are there any updates on some poor saved soul we got to rescue?”

“Grace period. We’re given a whole week off after intercepting that convoy. All we need to do is adjust personnel schedules thanks to you and Artyom hooking up with some of the locals.” That was a good point. Now that they were sleeping with the Hellborn, their availability to the crew was limited.

“Back to work as usual. I hope the Holy Army got its shit together.”

Another chip was taken from the plate but Uhlman paused before taking another bite. As the cheese dripped, the saved soul spoke. “That’s not for us to worry about.”

Their conversation came to a halt when they heard the elevator doors to Heaven open. Someone was visiting them. Footsteps quickly shuffled out, tapping against the ground outside the mess hall. The noise grew closer as the Russians turned their heads to the doorway to find Azrael’s second-in-command arriving with his famous trench coat and black riot armor over his chest. “Uhlman, where is everyone else?”

“They’re in their bunks, why?” Wondered the man across from Pavel, “Did something come up?”

“I know you guys need a bit of vacation after that mission but I’m issuing a priority alert to all safe houses Hellside. Someone is targeting our investigators and we need to deal with that problem fast.” He said with conviction in his voice.

“Shit, how long has this been going on?”

The saved placed his hands into his pockets and let out a deep breath. “Recently. The guys Heavenside are studying the killings but I need you to keep a close eye on each other. Accountability might be the only clue to getting at these bastards.”

Pavel grew concerned about these developments, more so now that his friend was stationed at the hotel. “Our comrade is at the hotel, are we going to check up on him?”

“No need. He’s in a high profile position so that means the department has him under constant surveillance. If he needs help, Azrael will be the first to reach him. ” He answered confidently with a smile on his face before placing his foot on the bench for Uhlman’s side of the table, “It’s the rest of you guys I’m worried about. No solos. Always have a partner with you at all times.”

A phone rang from underneath the table before the head of the safe house brandished before everyone else. He ate the chip in his free hand before raising an index finger to bring the others to silence. After a single swipe from his thumb, the former Polis Ranger answered responded. “Artyom, what’s up?”

The device’s speakers activated as they heard the voice of their coworker. “A guy by the name of Valentino just kidnapped Angel Dust from the Hazbin Hotel but I don’t know where they could be.”

“Valentino… that’s a big name you’re going after,” His tone seemed to darken, oppressed by the ominous importance of the name, “He’s an overlord.”

“I know but I promised Angel I’d look out for him if this shit happened.” Answered his younger friend but was unsure of how to proceed.

“Give me a second to think.”

Pavel decided it was time to see his fellow ‘musketeer’ again and took initiation to intervene on the conversation. If Artyom intended to take on a big name, he will need backup. “We know where he is. The guy’s hanging out at the largest porn studio in Hell. Do you need a hand for that?”

“I’d appreciate that,” Came his reply but then it was followed up, “I’m at this bar full of former stalkers and post-apocalypse survivors. We could meet up there and form a plan in a nearby alleyway?”

Uhlman shook his head disapprovingly. “Don’t worry. I got VIP access to the backrooms over there. We won’t be disturbed planning things out. Until then, sit tight.”

“Ladna.” The phone call beeped and the trio looked at each other as the crew leader put the device on the table.

“I’ll let everyone relax but Pavel and I should rendezvous with him,” Then his eyes trailed down to look at his food, “I hate stuffing myself but we’re short on time.”

Tony leaned forward and placed both his hands on his knee. “While you guys do that, I should head back to the situations room and monitor everything. Remember what I said, no solos.”

Hiding out in Pride’s badlands was both a relief and a burden at the same time. Sure, you could be free from the urban environments and the law of the authorities but that came with a cost. Although Striker was used to living in the lonely parts of Hell, from each level of sin, he had no shortage of enemies. If it wasn’t for the gangs roaming the rural and pastoral landscape, he would have to deal with the dark realm’s oldest entities in existence and spiteful windbags who refuse to leave the past - the possessors. Such ancient creatures were the former dominant group that oppressed the Hellborn, forcing them to seek protection from the Ars Goetia and even they themselves were no match for the strongest of their kind.

The dynamic relationship they had over everyone else would change when a fallen archangel descended from above in the aftermath of the War of Heaven. Once Lucifer solidified his rule with his wife, he advanced society and centralized authority under the power of his throne out from the gutter. Such was the nature of his kind, even if he fell far from God’s grace. Yet, it did not go unnoticed by the possessors, who viewed these changes to their reality as a mistake to be rectified.

They tried to challenge his power but anybody worth a brain would see that fighting someone who carried the experience of single-handedly leading the legions to fight the Seraphim Guard and the Holy Army was incredibly stupid. The survivors fled into the badlands with the hope of overthrowing the ruler of Hell and made constant incursions into civilized society to remind the Hellborn why they should be afraid of them. As time passed, each incursion grew smaller over the eons and the last of their kind became nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with if they reared their head into Lucifer’s affairs. Pride became their last refuge but even the ruler sought to integrate them into his kingdom; however, the very concept of being surpassed seemed alien to them. At best, they could attack some poor trucker on a highway or possess a human in the mortal planes. The days of their so-called glory of being complete asshats to everyone else were gone but it was best that it stayed that way.

Striker sat quietly on the porch, outside of his cabin in the woods. He heard reports on the radio that there was another raid by the possessors but he did not intend to let them catch him by surprise. This building was one of the few hideouts he had where he could relax without having to keep one eye open thanks to its isolation. Yet, the latest attack nearby would mean that he would have to deal with their mess. They always made a mess out of everything and he was not going to grant them the luxury.

He rocked back and forth in his chair with a lever-action rifle laid out on his lap. If the damn creatures attempted to take his place out, there was enough distance for the assassin to get his shots off. As he waited for the potential assailants underneath the crimson sunset, the imp-greedling turned his gaze upon the table to his right where a glass of cold lemonade and a plate of freshly-cooked hog meat was. The Hellborn reached out and took a sip to quench his thirst and satisfy himself.

A phone rang and ruined the atmosphere he made for himself as his free hand dug into his pockets and brandished the device out. Even out in the wilderness, there was still enough wireless connection and reception in these parts of the woods. Caller identification appeared on the screen, revealing it to be nothing more than the Goetia client who hired him to kill her husband. His fingertips tapped the green button while his eyes remained on scanning the open fields in front of him and the treeline four hundred meters out. “What do you need, Stella?”

“It has been weeks since you last attempted to kill my husband. Do you have any plans on getting rid of him now?” Questioned the authoritative woman as he heard silverware. Out of all the nobles of Hell, she seemed incredibly unhinged but she made up for that with the pay she was offering. After all, the girl was paying the VIP premium. Who was he to deny her that satisfaction?

“Unfortunately, no. I’m currently dealing with a possessor attack but I’ll be ready to pick him off,” He assured her while explaining his current situation to the impatient owl. Then he realized it was an opportunity to get any information out of her since she lived so close to the target, “What of Stolas? Do you have info that might be handy in the future?”

“I do. My husband… is going to visit Ozzies with that fucking imp of his.”

The name of the place brought shivers down his spine. It was owned by Asmodeus and even he knew better than to get in-between that Hellborn and turn it into a killzone. “They aren’t meeting anytime later?”

“Why? Do you have any cold feet?” Stella hinted at her disdain for him as was expected from her kind. She continued with arrogance just as terrible as her husband’s family, “Allow me to remind you that I could hire some other up-and-coming imp with my money. My patience is not infinite.”

“Hey, no need to get angry. I’m still doing my job, just need some extra information to work with.”

“Good. Call me if you kill him or capture him.” Not another word was spoken as the line went dead.

Striker slipped his phone into his pocket as he pondered about the hit. Asmodeus would tear him a new one if he learned what was going on. Then again, it was a lot of money going around and he was not going to pass it up.

His eyes caught movement from the treeline as undiscernible red figures seeped out of the forest in a ghostly appearance. Small tendrils writhed from the mass that they called a body as they began to approach his cabin slowly. The assassin looked at his food and stabbed his slab of meat with his tail before tossing the meal into his gullet. A warm sensation flowed through his veins until he felt ready. The hunter leaned forward in his chair and rested his lever-action rifle on the porch railing to steady his aim. Then he lowered his head low enough to match the level of his sights, catching five possessors closing the distance. This was going to be a long night.

He pulled the trigger and a bullet screamed into the air.

Artyom found himself on a stool and alone in a bar known as the Springtime Bullet. The wait for his comrades made the atmosphere suspenseful despite the entire room being filled with chaos and laughter. Drunk sinners or groups of former stalkers cheered and partied to their hearts' content while he differed from the others. His mood would not improve until Angel Dust was returned to safe hands.

The bartender walked up to him in a plaid black and red shirt. A large cigar was embedded in between his teeth with large tusks protruding out from his jaw. His eyes were yellow as gold and his skin was blue as water. “Oi, what do you be havin’ lad?”

“Nuka-Cola.” He answered casually as he hunched over the counter and scanned his surroundings. No alcohol today as his mind needed to be at its best if he wanted to pull off his rescue mission.

“Give me a sec. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Time was precious but he couldn’t enter the den of an overlord. Some preparations were necessary if he ever wanted to commit to what was effectively a suicide mission. Overlords were not an alien concept to him and living in a hotel that had one gave him some insight about their kind. If he could find a way to placate them, no fighting would be involved but Artyom knew better than to rely on that kind of hope for a sinner. Especially, if the individual was an overlord.

His eyes watched the other patrons find solace in the company of friends and loved ones. The disguised saved stood out like a sore thumb. If Uhlman and Pavel didn’t get here in time, someone was going to notice and he would have more trouble on his plate than what was needed right now.

“I don’t have the regulars. Will this do?” The bartender returned with a cold soft drink in hand. It glowed a blue hue from within a glass bottle, kept inside thanks to a small metal cap on top. He placed it in front of him before wiping his hands on his clothes thanks to the condensation.

Artyom nodded his head as he reached out while the man walked away from him, attending to the needs of his customers. The former Polis Ranger popped the bottlecap with his thumb and raised it high above his lips before taking a good swig of the liquid’s contents. Sodium and a taste of radioactivity burned through his throat; yet, it did not matter thanks to his existence in the afterlife. If he was alive, he’d call it a stupid decision not to drink vodka.

When he was satisfied with the initial sip, he placed the bottle back on the counter and swallowed. Thank goodness that the others from the Hazbin Hotel were not here to see him. Many questions would be asked about why he wasn’t heading over to Angel’s location.

He heard a pair of footsteps knock on the wooden flooring. The sound was unique and he managed to somehow tell it apart from the others inside the bar. Why? He knew not, only that his ears could tell. His gut churned as if sensing familiarity but there were no signs of his coworkers arriving and neither did they give him a message.

Footsteps grew closer behind his back until the individual revealed himself. “Artyom, is that you?”

It was Hunter’s voice.

The post-apocalypse survivor turned around on his stool to face the man who shaped him into the person he was today. His Hellish appearance was almost similar to his form when he was alive. The only difference is that the senior Polis Ranger’s skin was encased in gold as if he was a statue given life. Wearing nothing more than blue jeans and a purple turtleneck, he smiled upon seeing him face-to-face.

“Hey, great to see you!” A wave of emotions went through his soul but his first reaction was to embrace an old face once again with a massive hug. It had been a few years since they departed from Exhibition station.

“A lot has happened since we last saw each other,” They let go as Hunter took a stole on the left and joined the Purgatory investigator by the counter, “I died fighting the Dark Ones, how did you get here?”

The question was quite problematic from his perspective as the bartender approached him and asked for a drink. He could never tell the truth about his true identity and reasons for being in Hell but there were enough memories Artyom could disclose. “Do you know Colonel Mel’nikov’s daughter?”

“Anna? You got hitched with the commander’s daughter?” From the way he stated those words, he seemed surprised about the news as much as anyone else. Then again, no one back in the Spartan Order would believe he had a chance.

“Yeah, we got married and all that.”

Hunter’s hand reached behind and patted the undercover redeemed on his back. “Congratulations. We should drink to such a proud marriage! How many kids did you two make?”

“We never got a chance,” His mood darkened as he turned to the drink in front of him and remembered the past. Merely holding the cold bottle reminded Artyom of the dark night trying to march through the snow in freezing temperatures. Radiation flowed through every fiber of his body as if it was being pricked by sharp needles, “I died with my Geiger clicking.”

“That’s a damn shame. She’s a good Ranger and she would have been a good mother. Sometimes… life is unfair to us like that.”

“I would like to spend some time with you but I have some business to deal with. Maybe we can catch up later.” He would want to know how his closest family friend had spent his time down in Hell after the events of the Dark Ones.

They stole one look from each other before the veterans gave a silent nod of respect. Other people would have viewed this as a strange way of saying farewell. Yet, it was a byproduct of their lives when the sons of the apocalypse couldn’t spend the air needed to say goodbye in the wasteland. Not a word later, Hunter slipped out of his seat and walked away. The younger disguised investigator looked over his shoulder to see the man’s back turned away as he approached the main entrance.

His pocket buzzed and incited the redeemed to reach inside and brandish his phone. His eyes looked at the pop-up notifications to see that his peers were reaching out to him. After navigating through his device, Pavel and Uhlman were in the VIP rooms.

It was time.

The limousine of the Hazbin Hotel arrived out front of the main entrance as the moth sinner stormed out of the vehicle and brushed through the doors with great haste. Upon entering the hallway, Vaggie looked to her right to find Husk standing behind his bar with Alastor drinking a glass of bourbon across from him. The first thing on her mind was the whereabouts of her girlfriend. “Where’s Charlie?!”

“Why the rush, darling?” Questioned the radio demon as he drank his glass in a single sitting before placing it on a flat surface. Then he spun around in the stool and rested his back against the counter, “You seemed overworked.”

“That’s because I am. Angel Dust just got kidnapped by Valentino.” She answered in a harsh tone. There was no time to deal with Alastor’s bullshit; especially, now.

The bartender on the other side raised his eyes with worry. His attitude changed as if the situation awakened him from his drunken stupor. “Where’s the other guy? Did they get him too?”

“No. He’s tracking them down right now but I need your help. It’s suicide for him to go alone.”

“Indeed. I suppose I can offer some assistance.” Stated the 1920s sinner as he leaped from his seat and landed gracefully in front of her. His fingertips reached out as his microphone stand appeared in his hand.

She was weirded out by the man’s mood. Why was he doing this? Alastor had a self-interested bastard who only looked out for himself, no one else. “You want to help us?”

“Of course! Do you have any idea how much boredom one can suffer without some excitement from violence? This a chance to savor some bloodshed.”

Footsteps thumped against the carpet floor as Charlie’s voice called to her. She turned around to find the princess of Hell standing in the hallway with Verosika Mayday behind her. “Vaggie? What’s wrong? Where is Railtracer and Angel?”

“Valentino,” Replied the El Salvadoran as she expressed her worry about the fate of the American-Italian and the Russian sinners, “He sent someone to ambush us.”

The succubus crossed her arms and looked up at the ceiling for a brief moment. Then she snapped her fingers and grabbed the attention of everyone in the room. “If it’s Valentino, then they’re probably taking him to the Porn Studio. I’ve been there a couple of times but if that’s where his dirty business usually happens.”

“Can you point us the directions?” Maybe there was a chance that they could save the first sinner who chose to stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

“Yeah, I have the address,” Verosika pulled out her phone and started tapping on the touch screen as she continued to speak her mind, “It’s heavily guarded so if you’re planning to break him out, be ready for a fight.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem.”

His head began to hurt.

Angel Dust opened his eyes but darkness muffled his eyesight. His captors knocked him out ever since they dragged him into the car. All he could do was helplessly gain a sense of his surroundings as a commotion of people talked among themselves. The sinner tried to discern the voices; yet, he was powerless thanks to a rice bag covering his entire head. Soon the mood changed when his nose caught a scent in the atmosphere. It was a smell he was familiar with but one he dreaded ever since he took up Charlie’s offer and never looked back.

A pair of footsteps tapped against the floorboards as someone walked up to him from behind and ripped the bag off. The captive frantically looked around and found himself sitting in a wooden chair placed on the center stage. Soon a white light shined upon him, causing him to briefly close his eyes and turn away from its sheer brightness. Then a woman’s voice spoke from the rear. “Well, well, well, Val’s boy toy is finally awake.

It was rare for him to express true fear after recognizing one of the overlords who owned his former workspace. “Velvette?”

“Ah, you remember me!” The woman expressed her sarcasm before appearing from the right corner of his eye and walking in front of him. She turned to lean forward and stare at him with an evil smile on her face, “Did you think you could run from us? That you thought you could be free from your… responsibility. It doesn’t work like that.”

There was another person in the room and his electronic voice called upon the feminine overlord. The man sounded robotic but he became the voice of reason to refrain the overlord, “Enough Velv. As much as we would like to see him suffer, this is Val’s issue, not yours.”

“Fine!” She pouted before turning her back on him and jumped off the stage and joined the shadow underneath the rays of light.

“Tone down the brightness.”

The intensity began to simmer as Angel Dust’s eyes adjusted to a change in the lighting. In front of him are auditorial seats in red but all were empty save for three. A third row from the front was Velvette jumping into a chair beside a taller individual. He wore a black suit with a red bow tie, which was an offset of his Hellish form a walking and sentient television stand. As soon as he recognized him, all he could do was feel his stomach churn at all the torturous acts of pleasure that could be done against his will.

“You know why you’re here?” Questioned the overlord with the television head while maintaining a tone of a gentleman, “A debt is owed and there is a promise that Valentino can do whatever he wants with you until it’s over.”

“You can fuck right off, Vox! I live at the Hazbin Hotel. There’s nothing he can do about that.” It was the only card he could play. Maybe they would take his bluff but he knew these bastards well. They didn’t become the top dogs of Pride by mere power alone.

“The thing is, you weren’t captured at the Hazbin Hotel but at a pastry shop that sold cannolis. Even if you were, do you think that her majesty would truly care about your kidnapping? After all, you didn’t exactly show up when she needed you at the news station. What makes you think she’ll return the favor?”

A pang of guilt seeped into his heart. He was not wrong about what he did back then but the spider hoped that Charlie’s better nature. Surely, she wouldn’t abandon him, would she? “You guys really like to underestimate her. Trust me, it ain’t worth pissing her off.”

“Oh, we know but there are ways to make sure it doesn’t happen. Val? You can spend as much time with him as you want. He thinks he has a chance.” His voice seemed discontent but it also carried a venomous tone upon calling upon the final member of their trio.

Footsteps shuffled from his left as the porn star looked to the side of the stage. A shadow moved and made its way toward him like a hunter catching his prey in a trap. If had a choice, he would tear his limbs out and try to jump out of the building than deal with his former boss. A cockroach slipped into the light with his body wrapped in a red fur coat. To further display his flamboyant side was a top hat that shared its themes with the rest of his apparel while a pair of heart-shaped glasses rested upon his nose. “Why did you run and abandon poor old me my sweet little thing.”

“Let me go.”

“Ah, we're just getting started,” He replied, strolling across while exposing himself in the open. His boots tapped against the floorboards with a greedy smile and a baleful gaze, “Daddy needs some lovin’ and our boys brought you back safe and sound.”

When the overlord reached him, his height towered over the sinner before leaning forward to level his head and meet Angel’s. The powerless position of the former porn star caused him to try and break out of the ropes; yet, it was to no avail. A hand cupped his chin and forced the Italian to look upon the cockroach of a man with a spark of lust in his eyes. Soon another’s lips were forced against his.

He tried to back his head away from his captor but there was little room for his body to maneuver around. Memories of the past seeped back into his mind, of all the moments this predator treated him as nothing more than a slave to his will. His soul broken for Valentino’s pleasures of the flesh, forced to live an agonizing existence from the moment he signed away his right to be free. A toy to be played with but also broken at any time.

Tears trickled from his eyes as relief came to him by recalling that fateful day when Charlie came to him on that corner street. She didn’t have to give him a chance but it happened and his view of the world changed for the better. Inspired by those thoughts, a hint of anger flowed through his veins as the homosexual spider broke away from his captor’s mouth before throwing his head first. A great headbutt slammed against the cranium of the cockroach, causing him to stumble back and shout in surprise.

The act of defiance gave Angel Dust some reprieve but it was brief when the overlord regained his footing and glared. His hand was raised high until the captor brought it low and backhanded the former gangster in the face. “You got a lot of spunk, I like that but the studio can’t give me the green light until I break you for the gang to have their fun.”

He shook his head, unwilling to give in and let his dominating master from controlling his life. Cherrybomb brought him out of this dark place and he was not letting that experience regain a foothold. 

“That head-shaking of yours ain’t going to do shit. If I want your asshole to be searing red, you’re going to take it like a champion. You hear me?! Give up you fluffy cunt, it’s not like anyone is going to save you. Then again, who gives a shit about you anyway.”

A loud door swung open as a collection of shoes marched from behind his back. It seemed to be important as the imprisoned sinner looked at the overlords in the auditorium and the stage, raise their heads and move towards the newcomers who interrupted his torture. “Uh, I know we shouldn’t be interrup-”

“This better be fucking important. Can’t you see that I’m in the middle of something?!” Valentino’s patience was at his limit as the spider saw Valentino’s cover his face with a hand as blood seeped over the fingers. His attention was facing towards the newcomer as looked over his shoulder to see a Greedshark in a black suit and tie stand at the center of a doorway.

“We got visitors, important visitors,” Answered the nervous gang member trying to avoid the wrath of his superiors, “They’re here for Angel Dust, boss.”

Vox rose from his seat in the rows while his gaze remained both confused and annoyed. “Then tell them that they can wait.”

“I can’t do that. Sure, I work for you but these aren’t the guys I can bullshit.” Answered the Hellborn, his face encased with terror.

“Why is that? This is our studio and we can do as we like,” The overlord countered as he strode forward towards the stage while his television screen turned on and blinked red with anger. Out of all the overlords in this clique, it was rare to find him angry, “They can’t do shit to us.”

“They actually can because… well… they work for Lucifer.”

It was a blessing that they planned out their extraction of a single sinner in less than thirty minutes before they came here. Much could go wrong with their plan to pretend that they all served the fallen archangel; yet, the trio carried an ace up their sleeves should the situation devolve into a firefight between the disguised agents of the department and members of one of the top gangs in Pride. Brown trenchcoats were worn over their shoulders, allowing the men to enter the building with their blessed weapons within reach.

Artyom led the way with Pavel and Uhlman behind him, securing his flanks. His unholy badge is the key to granting them access at the main entrance before proceeding deeper into the porn studio. The reaction of the staff was phenomenal. They would initially express disdain and feel insulted by their presence; however, their tunes and complaints about the trio would change into kiss-ass remarks or absolute fear among any they came across. All it did was showcase the authority of the Russian’s newfound power.

A staff member brought them to an elevator before stepping aside to their right and guiding them with his hand. The imp straightened his back and expressed his attempts at repressing his terror while maintaining a demeanor of professionalism. “This will take you to the presidential suite. The managers will be waiting for you there.”

The trio entered as the doors closed upon the last man slipping through. As they began to ascend floor levels in the shaft, the redeemed looked over his left shoulder to see Uhlman’s blue and furry face scan his surroundings. “What are you doing?”

Minutes passed as he leaned over his ear and whispered. “Checking for a wiretap. We can’t be too careful about these bastards. Don’t want them to catch our conversations.”

“Got it,” Technology was not the man’s forte and so he trusted his friend to deal with that issue. They could not afford to waste a single advantage on petty talk nor reveal to the overlords that their authority was a bluff. Every minute they spend here, the more potential they had for someone to call their deception.

The elevator began to decelerate to a stop as the gas mask hiding the investigator’s face began to warm. If he wasn’t in his sinner disguise, Artyom would showcase himself sweating bullets to his comrades and the people he was about to confront. Negotiations would have to be quick and precise if they were to get Angel Dust out but should they be forced into violence, his strange two-handed sword would be enough to give him reach in melee.

Once the doors opened, the trio was met with a blue marble table in the center of the floor. The ceiling lights were focused on it while the rest of the room was filled with darkness. Three empty chairs were waiting for them while three overlords sat across from them. Without a word, they took their steps forward and approached the captors of the homosexual porn star.

Eyes began to detail the grey-skinned woman sitting on the left. Although her seat was smaller than her peers, her pink hair expressed a level of freedom matched only by an evil grin along her black lips. Attractive at first glance; yet, the overlord exuded an unnatural feeling of unstableness with her emotions.

Then his gaze shifted to the tall cockroach in a red fur coat with the collar and wrists trimmed in white. He seemed disgusted at their presence but was unable to accept that he was receiving them. To compensate for that, the creature brandished a cigarette and brought it over to his partner in the center of the seating arrangement.

A slightly less tall overlord sat between them. His head was nothing more than a television screen with a mouth and eyes trapped inside. As he noticed the cigarette being presented in front of him, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a lighter, igniting it. Red smoke burned and began to fill the room but it did not obfuscate the three disguised saved souls from reaching them. “Welcome to our humble establishment. It’s rare that we get any official recognition from Hell’s finest!”

“We are not here to be amused,” Artyom answered as he was the first to take his seat at the rectangular table. His comrades followed suit and directed their focus on them. Then he continued, unwilling to let them have an advantage in this conversation, “Let us be done with this.”

“You are here for Angel Dust, right? I don’t see why his majesty would send someone after us. It’s not like he sent agents after Katie Killjoy for fighting with his daughter. I don’t see why he would be interested in some random schmuck.” The way he described the spider made his blood boil slightly but the Russian was fortunate to maintain a calm demeanor. While it was true that Katie wasn’t dealt with any repercussions, it was before Lucifer was interested enough to pay Charlie a visit.

“That was before his majesty paid the Hazbin Hotel a visit and assigned me there. Things have changed.”

The girl on the left barged right into the conversation. “Oh, so he’s entertaining the stupidity of a princess? Please, can’t you just replace him with someone else and call it a day? You’re already wasting our time.”

“We are tasked to protect the princess and anything that belongs to the hotel. This also includes the sinner. Angel is there at the pleasure of her highness, so until he does something to be evicted off the premises, he counts as well.” It was a cold statement but this was Hell after all and the man needed to show face to the people who embodied their own sinful ways of life. The deception was necessary, much to the risk of his conscience when describing his acquaintance at the hotel.

“So that’s it, huh?” She leaned back in her wooden chair and crossed her arms disappointingly, “What is this no-nonsense bullshit?”

The insect on the right began to make his moves as his hand reached for the cigarette and removed it from his mouth. Then several puffs of smoke were released from his lungs as he shifted his gaze on him. “Don’t you three realize where you are? We could just kill you on the spot and dump your bodies in a river. No one would give a care in the world about three sinners working for the court.”

“Pathetic,” Spoke Pavel as he began to laugh at the statement by rolling his head back, “No wonder you’re a fucking cockroach!”

“The fuck did you say to me?” He rose from his chair and towered over everyone sitting at the table. His hand reached underneath the coat and pulled out an M9 pistol in hand and pointed at the disguised saved. Artyom tensed up as his hand was ready to reach for his blessed blade.

“You’re really going to draw a gun on us? Sure, go ahead. You may think you’re tough shit in Pride but the truth is that you can’t accept the fact that we have this power over you. Just like a cockroach, if you kill us, we can crush you without hesitation. Now, Valentino, be a good boy and hand him over.”

A metallic clink popped from underneath the table as Uhlman leaned forward and brought his hand out to the center of the table. He presented a grenade pin with a holy hand grenade showcased in the grip of his right hand. “We may die but we’ll be together for this occasion.”

The center overlord pulled out a handkerchief and patted his television screen before his face looked at his associates standing over him. “I don’t think we can keep him.”

Valentino shook his head at his words. “Angel owes me, I am owed. The little Italian fucker is not going to get away. He’s mine!”

“You’ll have your due but not like this,” He replied as he stole a glance at the explosive, “I’m not dying just so you can fuck this particular asshole.”

“Vox, I thought you’d back me on this. Fucking coward you are.”

The television overlord stood up and guided his partner’s shooting hand away from Pavel’s head. Then the cockroach sinner roared in anger and fired his gun to the ceiling and until the magazine was empty. He stepped away from the table and swore to himself while turning his back on everyone.

Artyom took this as a sign of defeat before turning his gaze upon Uhlman’s Hell form. “Retract the grenade.”

Soon the explosive was pulled away from the table as the former Polis Ranger snatched the pin and reattached it back into place. All it took was a single wrong move for everyone to die at this place. The stress needed to be alleviated when he returned to the Hazbin Hotel.

“Now, hand him over - alive and untouched.”

Mrs. Mayberry drove ahead of the others while her car was occupied by an overlord in the seat to her right while Husker and Verosika’s Hellhound were in the back. To say that she was uncomfortable was an understatement. Her friend was at risk of being in danger and Railtracer was outnumbered by a large margin. She did not doubt that he was capable of but the sinner felt that everyone had their limits.

The woman reached below the radio and felt the butt-stock of a pump-action shotgun beside her leg. She was not as combat capable as the people accompanying her but there had to be a way to contribute. It was not much but maybe it would be enough.

Alastor leaned forward and pointed his finger ahead. He had been attentive throughout the whole ride ever since they set off. “There!”

The teacher saw past the cars in front of her and captured the sight of a porn studio towering over the rest of the skyscrapers within the city. As they advanced closer, she saw the entrance to the building and a parking spot waiting for them. Their moment of violence was coming and she trembled at what would happen. Her heart stopped upon seeing Angel Dust walking out the front door with Railtracer helping him to a nearby car. Yet, they were accompanied by two others - a bronze-colored robot in a black trench coat and a blue carpet with the most horrific face she had ever seen.

Soon they parked behind a black SUV and were quick to step out of the car. She grabbed their attention while rushing towards the spider with a bruised mark across his face. “Railtracer, Angel!”

She saw his head turn and recognized the gas mask across his face. “Just in time. Help him get in the car. Just watch our backs.”

“How did you convince them to let him go?” It was a genuine question that the sinner had about the man before stealing a glance from the other two, “Who are they?”

“The robot is Pavel and the fluffy monster is Uhlman. They were old friends of mine when I was alive. I called in a few favors and they came to help me out.”

It was such a relief to see him unharmed and so the woman jumped across and embraced him with a hug. At first, he seemed surprised but then he reciprocated with a hug of his own but then they heard their wounded companion complain. “Look, I don’t want to ruin the moment but let’s head back home. I could use a drink.”

Chapter Text

Two days had passed since Angel Dust was rescued from his captors. It was a relief for everyone involved; yet, it was surprising as Railtracer distinguished himself in the eyes of the princess. Underneath that gas mask of his, Mrs. Mayberry couldn’t help herself from being enamored with the Russian. The more she thought of his great act of goodness, merely gave credit to the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel and the possibility of redemption.

She strode through the hallways and took the time to appreciate her free time before the education administration would recall her back. Yet, the sinner could not avoid pondering about him. Part of her was jealous at the succubus hooking up with her but she had no intention of dealing with relationship drama. Stealing a man from another woman incited hatred at the bitch who slept with Gerald. All she could do was watch them from afar and wish him the best for those two.

The hallway forced her to turn around a corner to her left and she smoothly strode around to find another long pathway leading to the other side of the building. Yet, she had no intention of going there while the sinner was about to approach his hotel room to her right. Normally, he would be up and be in the workshop fixing weapons but she heard that Nifty noticed it wasn’t as dirty as usual. What could cause a change in his schedule?

She heard noises when stopping in front of his room. There was something amiss about this moment and she knew not why. Her stomach churned as she pressed her ear against the wooden door while keeping the horns from knocking. On the other side was the sound of a bed squeaking and a body shuffling around. Hearing this made the sinner become filled with worry as her hand reached for the doorknob and turned.

Mayberry slowly opened her way inside and gradually got a glimpse of the man’s room. It was surprisingly small compared to the others she had seen but the initial impression was that Railtracer was content in living in these tight quarters. On her immediate flanks were two closets facing across from each other while she looked further to find the right side contain a spot save for a doorway leading into the bathroom. Then her gaze fell upon the left, only to find Railtracer lying on his bed with disorganized beddings and sheets.

It all changed when she saw him turn while trying to say something in his sleep. Then the mood of the room changed upon his whimpering and quiet cries for help. She couldn’t make out his words but it was clear that he was having a nightmare. All this did was incite pain in her heart, knowing that Angel Dust’s stoic rescuer had problems of his own, ones that were not revealed to anyone else until now.

Railtracer had always been helpful, one way or another and the teacher felt compelled to return the favor. She walked over to his bed and sat near the edge. His legs shuffled and brushed against her lower back. He was unaware of the woman’s presence as she extended her arm out and placed her hand on his shoulder. It looked like he was about to turn in his sleep but the intensity of his shaking ceased before she spoke up. “It’s just a nightmare, you’re safe.”

A few seconds passed as he sat up from his bed and drew a pistol from his side. Taken by complete surprise, Mayberry was shocked as his weapon was pointed at her The glass slits of his gas mask revealed a glimpse of his anger as flames flickered in a bloodshot rage. Then his composure relaxed as he slowly lowered his weapon and the fire returned to the original blue color. “May… what are you doing here?”

“I heard you crying in your bedroom,” She answered, hoping her presence did not interfere with his private quarters, “Nightmares?”

He confirmed her hunch by nodding his head before shifting around the sheets and sitting beside her. The Russian hunched over before massaging his temple.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have done that?” Remarked the teacher feeling regret after seeing him return his firearm to the holster on the side of his belt.

“It’s fine. I needed to get up anyway,” He answered, painfully groaning before turning his head and looking at her, “Do you know what time it is?”

“Mid-day. Someone noticed you were sleeping late and I decided to check up on you.”

“Appreciate it. Besides, Blitzo is probably waiting for me back at work and I need to get going soon.” He said, casually ignoring the problems he had shown earlier.

As much as Helen wanted to let him go, she wondered about the terrors that affected him in his sleep. “Railtracer, do you ever want to talk about those nightmares? It’s probably not my place to say but it hurts watching you deal with PTSD.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s an acronym for post-traumatic stress disorder,” Came her reply, informing him of his issues as he looked across the room and stared at the wall. Her town had seen such people before but they usually kept to themselves. She always wanted to help the returning veterans whenever they could but Gerald was insistent on letting them suffer. His reasoning typically along the lines of shaming them as morons for signing up. The teacher was unwilling to deal with that perspective of life, “Talking about it might help.”

He rested his arms atop his knees before reaching into his breast pocket. Then he brandished a lighter in the shape of a bullet, looking at its design before lowering his head. “Even though I’m a sinner, I’m technically not one of you. Alastor, Angel, Vaggie - they all died in some shape or form that got them a place in Hell. Me? I’m a special case who has personally offended God.”

“What did you do?” There was hesitation in her voice and for good reason. The back of her mind felt unsure of asking him that question and it may be too personal for her friend to express the very memories that he tried to repress in his sleep.

“I killed his servants, Mayberry. I’m an angel slayer,” A somber tone escaped his mouth as he coughed for a brief moment, “Had I not killed them, technically, I wouldn’t have been sent here in the first place and find a place in Heaven. It was the greatest sin I’ve committed, one too great for redemption. The only reason I’ve come here is to lie to myself. There’s no chance for someone like me for the things I did but the idea sounds nice and all of it haunts me.”

An angel killer was a rare sight indeed. In her relative time in Hell, there were moments she had overheard conversations about such special sinners. No wonder why the three overlord captors handed their prisoner over, he was far too powerful even for them. Here that man was, sitting beside her, berating his mortal actions. “Hey don’t be too hard on yourself. Not many people would have done what you did at the studio. Angel Dust is back here safe and sound because of you.”

“Thank you. It’s nice to hear that.” The Russian said before letting out a chuckle from behind his gas mask.

“You’re welcome,” She rose from the bed and thought about improving his mood even further. Then Helen turned around with a small smile on her face, knowing the answer, “You are probably hungry but I can fix up a meal and some extras.”

“Before you go, I would like to ask you something. Can we keep this between us?”

“Of course.”

The machine stood behind a counter and carefully wiped the dirt and debris from the top. Ever since the raid by the unannounced guests, it had to carefully repair the cafe back to normal. Bullet holes were covered up, mulched tables had to be replaced, and broken glass windows had to be carefully refitted again. Fortunately, it could afford all of the time in the world to strive towards perfection. It remembered the moment and appreciated the violence to break up the monotony of life. Much time had passed since the body had been refueled by its blood and the excitement it received on smashing into a victim. Nonetheless, it was over and back to operating the building.

Verosika entered its memory banks once her recent history and upcoming dates were coming up. The girl’s happiness levels were increasing than average. It checked historical data to define the cause of this, only to trace that connection back to an imp by the name of Blitzo. She was content with him back then until anomalous behavior dissatisfied the adoptive daughter and their relationship deteriorated. The machine made probabilities of them getting back together again; yet, the trajectory shifted further away upon discovering the newfound relationship between the head of I.M.P and a prince of an Ars Goetia. Only one conclusion remained, she had found someone who made her happy.

V1 hoped that it would last; however, there were also careful considerations that it might be a one-off fling. Additional calculations would be accounted for once she properly introduced the individual for inspection. Possibilities for improved behavior came into question and the machine recognized that it would provide morale for her stress at the upcoming concert. Someone needed to bring the succubus some comfort.

What peaceful silence it had to itself was interrupted by a message alerting the machine of anomalous energy readings nearby. The only time these readings would be detected were the various safe houses littered throughout Hell by the agents of Heaven… or an archangel willfully traveling to the dark realm. It’s mechanical hand reached for its side and the fingers wrapped themselves around the grip of the sharpshooter revolver. The history with the authorities of Heaven was well documented and the machine knew that they did not tolerate it in the same manner as the denizens of this reality.

The kitchen behind it contained a commotion as the clatter of trays met with the floor. Someone was inside the cafe without permission. V1 turned around and strode to the back while brandishing the ancient weapon. It drew the firearm and began to spin it around the finger while turning around the corner, ready to deal with the intruder with cold ruthless efficiency. If the moment was fortunate, the machine could ‘style’ on the individual.

When it entered the area where the donuts and bagels would be prepared, the feeling of confusion and shock took over upon seeing a dark-robed figure on one knee. Azrael, the Archangel of Death, had bent his knee and lowered himself to the floor. The being who collected souls and processed them throughout the afterlife was trying to put away two metal trays containing a variety of donuts back on the counter to his right. Meanwhile, his skull revealed a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles stuck in between his teeth. Probabilities gave possibilities of a potential assassination, not a Heavenly representative eating sugary delicacies meant for humans while cleaning up after himself. “Why have you come here?”

Soon the Grim Reaper grabbed the last tray and placed it carefully on the marble top where they fell from. Then he pulled himself up by his scythe, treating it as a walking staff rather than a weapon, and then he swallowed the rest of his treat. Then his boney fingers wiped against his black robes, dirtying his apparel with crumbs. “My presence should be obvious. If that is not enough, machine, I have come to seek you out.”

“You should have brought back up,” The machine replied with its electronic voice while accelerating the spinning of it’s crimson-colored revolver in preparation for the would-be fight. It committed a great crime so great and terrible that he was ashamed of its existence. Since the days of the apocalyptic war between the two realms, God’s servants were always on a mission to find him and terminate it’s active service. Yet, there was one who had an incredible grudge against it, “Too bad Gabriel isn’t here.”

“If you believe that I am anything like my brother, you are mistaken. There is a situation, one that is the cause of much ire as my investigators are being methodically hunted down by my own kin.” VI’s cylinder robotic camera eye began to ‘squint’ as shutters rotated around its lens focusing hard on the Grim Reaper. It’s shooting hand continued to spin the blessed and holy firearm but it brought no comfort.

“And this concern’s me? It has been eons since my rebellion during the War in Heaven and somehow you’re here to treat me like a lifelong friend. Give me a reason why I shouldn’t shoot you right here and now.”

“The succubus…” Death grabbed his scythe and placed it against the counter where the trays of donuts resided on. He reached over for another sprinkled-covered one flavored in a strawberry crust. Then turned to focus on the machine in the eye. “Your adoptive daughter is dating one of the men in my department.”

“Verosika? She has nothing to do with this. Leave her out.” Just what was the archangel’s angle to mention the kind creature he took under his wing? Gabriel was very upfront in his attempts to destroy his frame but this was different. What manner of cold ruthless logic could be hidden underneath that hood?

“You have a vested interest to protect her just as I have a vested interest to protect him. As of right now, they’re dating but she does not know about his secrecy just as the high marshal doesn’t know about this cafe we reside in. I need your help.”

The revelation of information did not change V1’s physical stance but its internal cogitators were taken aback. As it accounted for the new variables, it began to ponder this bizarre position. Was this all planned? There had to be some kind of ruse involved that would permit the machine to lower its guard. The probabilities made no sense after seeing the Archangel of Death casually eat his donut with his weapon out of hand. If he had known about his stay at the cafe, why didn’t he report this to his brothers in Heaven? Surely he would, after all, Gabriel would have done so. Then again, he wasn’t dealing with Gabriel. So it began to take control of the conversation and demand answers. “Why choose me? Don’t you have an army of personnel to call upon at your beck and call? They can provide security for your undercover agents.”

“Not with this. My investigator, Ms. Mayday’s boyfriend, was assigned to a high-profile task to protect Princess Charlie Magne Morningstar as per agreement with Lucifer. So I cannot provide protection details without sacrificing the ever-so-important secrecy that the Department of Purgatory has carefully established.” His explanation was sound as the machine grabbed the handle of its sharpshooter revolver and placed the weapon on it’s metallic hip. This had to be an elaborate ruse but his child’s life was on the line, perhaps Azrael was genuine with his explanation.

“It must be important if you have managed to get Lucifer to agree to this,” Everything about this sounded ludicrous and yet it could not feel fascinated by the depths of the proposal. The Grim Reaper was more than his robes let on, “Who is daring to threaten you and your fallen brother?”

“The ranks of the Holy Army are compromised. Some seek to break the ceasefire treaty and continue the War in Heaven. My department doesn’t know the extent of this sentiment for bloodshed and we have interfered in their plans for the time being. You have no interest in helping me but I would imagine it would bring a difficult life to your daughter. I fear that in the haste of denying their success, they may escalate and hasten their resolve to see their plans into successful action.”

This conversation seemed so unbelievable and yet Azrael had somehow convinced V1 with his words. It was a double-edged sword to cooperate with this servant of Heaven but Verosika’s well-being took priority. The machine was a father now and it couldn’t afford to hold such grievances against its former masters. Suspicion kept the blood-fueled robot from fully embracing the archangel standing in front of it. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Blitzo had called the crew to the meeting room and Millie was all too eager to answer. Her husband was not as enthusiastic but he was never far from her company. As they gathered around a single rectangular table, the duo took their seats while the boss’ daughter sat across from them.  She looked to her right to find the CEO of I.M.P spinning around in his chair while casually placing his flintlock pistol on the table. He stole glances from the employees before smiling gleefully. “I’ve got a special call that we’ll be meeting with a new business who will be paying a premium to have us. The money he has is triple what we get with our clients so we’ll have the entire week off until this is over.”

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” The imp turned her head to the left and found Moxxie raising his finger. He seemed concerned about the decision being made but she always supported his ability to speak up for himself, “If I may, perhaps we should get some extra money on the side.”

“Nah. Besides, all three of us are going to Ozzies over the weekend. Stolas and I are going to get some downtime and you two get a table to yourselves. Plus, Loona wants time off.” He casually answered before leaning back in his chair and pulling out a rag to slowly clean the weapon.

“You always give her time off.”

She knew how it was going to go. Her boss would let off a negative remark and her husband would try to come up with his own. Fortunately, the boys always seemed to put their insults as water under a bridge. Millie wrapped her arm around her beloved and expressed a cheerful tone that would interrupt the tension in the room. “That’s so sweet of you, boss. I’d appreciate you letting me spend some time with my man.”

“Your welcome,” Blitz answered cheerfully before he crossed his arms and raised his head high with pride, “I’m capable of being nice so consider it a treat from me.”

“Yes sir.” Moxxie replied with annoyance before he pulled her chair closer to him and placed his free hand upon her left hand.

Loona’s head was raised from looking at her phone before shifting her eyes to the door across from her adoptive father’s chair. “We got company.”

The door was knocked on three times as the party of four looked over to the entrance of the meeting room. A minute passed until the bronze doorknob began to turn and the person from the hallway cracked the door open. It was a sight for sore eyes as the sinner entered the room with the business duffle bag hanging over his shoulder, containing all of the weaponry that was fixed and adjusted by the local arms repairman.

Millie was surprised to see him return while he adjusted his iconic gas mask over his face. Then he began to address everyone. “Hello everyone. I’m glad to be back.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have come back,” The Hellhound commented while she put down her electronic device on her lap and focused her attention on him, “We’re not going to be conducting business for a while.”

“Really? Damn, maybe I shouldn’t have cleaned up the weapons earlier.” He seemed disappointed as he lifted the bag off his shoulders and placed it on the ground. Then the Russian sinner approached the nearest chair and sat across from the imp in charge.

Moxxie reached into his pocket and brandished a phone as the wife peeked beside his shoulder and saw him brandish his social media. A thumb tapped Sinstagram and he navigated through the app to reveal news about the paparazzi photos of Verosika Mayday hanging out with her crew on a boat, sitting beside Railtracer at a table. The heading of the article questions the newly acquired boyfriend. An evil thought popped into her mind to jab at a relationship that the sinner had with the succubus. “So, how was sex with Verosika?”

“What are you talking about?” Her husband showed his phone and faced the screen towards him. A minute passed before his blank stare managed to give him time to reply, “Oh… that.”

“Come on. Spill the beans. Not everyone lucks out on a gal like her.” She encouraged him to speak about his experience with the pop star. It was mostly out of morbid curiosity but times were rare for sinners and Hellborn to date each other thanks to the nature of their existence.

“I don’t know. All I can say is that I’ve grown fond of her since we hooked up.”

That was an answer she didn’t expect to hear but it was nice to see her coworker feel better than usual. There was so much he could do in the arsenal room before running out of weapons to fix and clean. Soon Blitz commanded his employees. “As much as you guys like to talk about my ex-girlfriend, I’d appreciate it if you don’t bring her up right now.”

“Thanks for taking me out of the spotlight, sir.” The Russian commented as he adjusted himself in his chair.

“No problem,” The boss acknowledged as he stepped out of his seat and slapped both of his hands on the table, “Once we finish our little vacation at Ozzie's, we got to get ourselves cleaned up and ready to meet with our host in Greed.”

“Greed? I have some allowance to go there but I don’t know what it’s like,” He said while crossing his arms and keeping his back straight, “Is there anyone here who has been there long enough to know what goes on there?”

Millie looked around to see the expressions on the faces of those present in the room. Yet, the one who did not show indifference was Moxxie and he grimaced at the question. His lips moved and spoke with a clear conscience that she normally didn’t see in him. “I have. That whole level is one massive junkyard with a few clean suburbs here and there. Lots of criminal gangs and hit squads thriving there. It used to be my home until Blitz took me under his wing after I got arrested.”

“What are you in there for?”

“Bank robbery,” The imp slumped in his chair as he let out a deep breath as if he was bottling up his emotions, “Got left behind by my partner back then.”

Railtracer let out a chuckle from underneath his gas mask as he continued. “Well then, if you intend to rob a bank, tell me where it’s happening. I’ll take my money out before you steal it.”

“No worries. That’s peanuts compared to what the banks have in their vaults.”

She smiled while observing their banter. It was as if the arrest by Prince Stolas never happened. Nonetheless, it was great to see that not every conversation was a bunch of petty insults being thrown around.

An invitation had been given and the former communist officer did not pass the opportunity to accept. He arrived by car and parked in front of a music studio with a sign containing notes in pink neon lights. As he stepped out of the vehicle and made his way to the front entrance, the sky darkened and the rain began to pour. Pavel pulled the door open and slipped into the dry lobby as he looked around to see Hellborn and sinner alike keep to themselves through their phones or magazines.

A woman called out for him from his left, a raven with blue eyes wearing an outfit he had only seen for secretaries. She sat behind a counter with a glass window separating her from those waiting in a massive lobby. “Mister? You don’t look to be a musician. Are you visiting someone?”

“Da - I mean - yes,” He answered while realizing that his Russian would be lost on the English-speaking woman, “A Kiki invited me to come here. She is part of Verosika Mayday’s crew. Is she here?”

“Absolutely. She is currently singing but her entourage is waiting for her outside. They’re in a hallway straight ahead. You’ll know by the Hellhound guarding the door.” The woman carefully explained before pointing her hand to the door ahead.

“Spasiba. Appreciate it.”

Pavel did not waste a second to proceed into the hallway where an array of rooms were established. This place felt less like a studio and more of a motel but its expansive side did not deter him from finding his succubus girlfriend. As he walked past each door that failed to meet the woman’s descriptions, the saved took the opportunity to think about his current situation. Prior to his arrival, he had taken the consideration to think about what he was doing.

The update to the policies of the Department of Purgatory was an ever-present thought that was on his mind. While he would gladly follow the guidelines established by the people Heavenside, its practicality came into question. If there is a single truth about being an investigator, it was that they led two different lives and he found himself on the edge of dealing with the consequences.

Kiki wanted his company and he would try to fulfill that role as a loving and understanding boyfriend. The former officer wanted to repay her properly given that she got caught up in the middle of a shootout with Hellborn gangsters. Yet, his duties to the department would be strained if they discovered his act of disobedience. He hoped that Uhlman or Tony would understand his situation but the consequences and punishment remained on his mind. Would they suspend him from further Hellside deployments or reassigned the saved to another job? The thought of being ordered to handle desk work seeped in the back of his mind and the palpable agony of performing nine-to-five boredom would be torturous.

His walking produced results upon seeing a grey-haired Hellhound in a ripped jacket with red-colored spikes atop his black undershirt. As stated by the woman at the front counter, he was standing outside the door, head scanning the surroundings. The last time that Pavel encountered him was after Verosika’s car got returned and now he would meet the guy once more on different terms. “Vortex! It’s good to see you. How have you been, chuvak?”

“I saw you rescue Angel Dust with Railtracer,” He crossed his arms and his lips formed a welcoming smile as the distance between the two began to close in, “You two know each other?”

“Absolutely. We used to have a history together back when we were alive. I tried to kill him, he tried to kill me. Fortunately, it’s all water under the bridge.” A bit of truth to maintain the cover of his sinful identity.

“Kiki said to let you in. I’d love to join a conversation with you and grab a beer but Verosika is busy and she expects me to do my job.”

“I understand,” The Russian said as a few meters were all that remained between them. Then his feet brought him closer before the disguised saved patted him on the shoulder, assuring him of a future time to hang out, “Next time, next time.”

Soon the Hellhound provided him an approving nod before stepping aside as a hand reached behind his back and pressed down on the lever attached to the door. Vortex began to step aside and widened the door with his free hand as much as possible. “Welcome to our private resort. Be nice and don’t cause trouble.”

“Have fun with guard duty.”

Now the entrance was open to him. The investigator walked inside to find the ‘music studio’ look less like a sound room with electronic equipment and more like a nightclub. To his left were two succubi and two incubi sitting together on a corner couch with a round table, their legs wrapped around each other as the homosexual couples performed passionately kissing with each other. The old ideological part of him would have found that to be wrong but he was a better man to leave behind his skeevy ways as his eyes searched around the room for his girlfriend.

A mouth popped on his flank and Pavel looked to his right to find a small but fat succubus and tall while slender incubus sat on stools in front of a counter together. Past them was the familiar sight of a hookah placed between them as they passed around a waterpipe with puffs of smoke being released into the air. It had been a long time since he spent time with one and life as an investigator didn’t provide such a luxury to him. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen one of these.”

“You’re Kiki’s boyfriend?” Questioned the large succubus in her ripped jean shorts and bare shoulder shirt. She took three huffs into her mouth and passed the pipe over to her eager companion, “I heard about that shooting.”

“Oh, that.” His hand reached over behind his head, scratching the robotic metal where his hair would be. If only they knew his identity.

“I really don’t like sinners. Your sort always attracts trouble but we’re glad that you kept her safe.”

“Is that a compliment or an insult?” Questioned the former communist as he brought his hands to his side and slipped them into his pockets. It was difficult to interpret the spirit of her words by the way she said, “I hope it’s not a mark against me.”

The incubus beside her laughed while his teeth gripped the pipe. His attitude matched the grey sweatpants and the sleeveless red hoodie, relaxed and calm. “Don’t worry, man. Milky is just being defensive as always. It’s rare to find people who’ll watch our backs.”

“No problem. I just hope that you guys won’t hold that car thievery thing awhile back.”

“That? Nah, I’m just surprised you didn’t try to sell it. The damn things priceless in Hell,” The incubus replied as his mouth let go of the object and brought the hookah’s appendage to him. A gesture only provided by a host but it was a sign of acceptance, “Say, do you want to try?”

How could he tell him no? Even in the regimented lifestyles of the Red Line’s finest, it wasn’t rare for officers to take ‘liberties’ with their spare time smoking this stuff behind closed doors. “Only a saint would refuse?”

His hand reached for the hookah as the small air pressure flowed through the tubbing and released into his mouth. A sensation of relaxation filled his lungs as his mind could find clarity the more he continued to hold on to the mouthpiece at the end. Then he opened his mouth as clouds of inhaled smoke were released into the air, forming shapes of circles the more his lips closed.

“I just wanted a try,” Pavel said as he looked to the Hellborn creatures to find them stealing a glance at each other with an approving nod. It seemed that he was rubbing off on them as he presented the pipe, “Anyone else?”

The fat succubus reached out as he passed the tube over. Then the mood changed when he heard a sweet voice speak, “I’m glad you’ve made it!”

Turning left, he saw Kiki walk up to him from the opposite side of the room. To say he was speechless was an understatement. Her long legs revealed much thigh skin thanks to a black skirt; yet, it was not the eye-catcher as to the backless grey sweater she wore. This gorgeous display was rare for a man like him as he smiled at the Hellborn who seemingly wrapped her finger around him. “You look beautiful.”

“You don’t need to flatter me,” She said before her hands were wrapped around his neck. A small laugh came from her before the girl pulled herself closer and pecked him on the cheek while his hands embraced her with his warms slipping around her bare back, “Verosika said that Vortex saw you with Railtracer when they rescued Angel Dust. Do you two know each other?”

The kissing from his left was broken off as one of the incubi expressed his shock. “Wait a minute, you’re friends with Verosika’s boyfriend?!”

“Da,” Shit, he needed a good excuse to talk about that relationship before they started shooting away with their questions. Pavel could say that they were good coworkers but they would ponder about what they did for a living, which did not exist. The only viable subject was their existence in a post-apocalyptic world, “It’s something of a long story and something like that involves a bottle and a seat.”

“Let’s make some room.”

The occupants of the corner table had ceased their passionate acts of love as they scooted their bodies. A couple on the edge moved to the middle, allowing the Russian and his succubus girlfriend to take the spots where they once were. Once he had settled down, the incubus in the sweatpants approached him with a gleaming white bottle and a tray of shot glasses in hand. Then he placed them carefully on the table and ensured that everyone presently sitting there was able to get their fair share.

It didn’t take long before the disgusted investigator grabbed the bottle and cracked the seal open before pouring each glass into an equal amount until he was the last one to remain. The clear liquid was almost to the top until the former officer placed the bottle at the center of the table and immediately drank his shot. Alcohol soared through his veins, a burning sensation reminding the man of the days when he and his comrade were two men on opposite sides of the barricade. “So, what do you ladies and gentlemen want to talk about?”

“When did ya two meet?” Asked a blonde succubus to his right. Her ripped overall jeans covered the black-laced bra underneath, “It sounds like you two have a history together.”

“In prison - actually - I’m wrong on that. We met at an… enhanced interrogation center containing a bunch of Neo-Nazis.” The eyes of his audience widened like plates. He could tell that it would be a long back-and-forth.

Kiki got ahold of her shot and drank. “Were you the prisoner or the interrogator?”

“Prisoner,” Relieving sighs were all they could offer, assuring them that he was not who they thought he was. Even Lenin would turn in his grave if that was the case. Then he continued to summarize his experiences with the man, “Well, we broke out together. I got captured and he came in to rescue me from an execution by hanging like one of those guys from that book about the musketeers.”

“Are you talking about the three musketeers?” She asked curiously.

“Yep, those three. Confusing book and I couldn’t make sense out of half of it but he was just like Artagnan.”

They were immediately interrupted when the door swung open as Vortex walked into the room and stepped aside. “Right this way, sir.”

“Who could that be?”

“You’ll know soon enough,” Answered the wolf.

A tall and large Hellborn managed to slip through the door to tower over everyone else in the room. His chest was broad and his waist was thin. Below them were digitigrade legs that assisted in the stranger’s height. The form was surprisingly alien to the saved with an appearance mimicking a rooster. His clothing consisted of a navy-blue vest with the upper half in white stripes while a top hat rested upon the crown that was his head. “Hello there, ladies and gentlemen!”

“Asmodeus!” Milky shouted to the top of her lungs while throwing her hands up in the air, “Verosika is busy with auditions for the concert but it’s nice to get a visitor.”

“Glad to see that I’ve been appreciated. Though, I wonder who’s the sinner you got here.” Pavel felt a cold chill down his spine as he looked up to find the dark blue head lowering his gaze with neon green eyes to address his existence in the room. He let out an evil laugh before the succubus behind him had spoken.

“Asmodeus, meet Pavel. He’s Kiki’s boyfriend.”

“What a lucky man! Your girl definitely treating your right with that damn virgin sweater of hers,” The blood on his head began to rise with temperature before the former communist stole a glance from his girlfriend to see her just as embarrassed as she was. Now this was the sort of attention he didn’t need but the Russian couldn’t walk away without raising suspicion, “All it takes is a bit of lust and one of you will be down on the other.”

The blond succubus sitting to his right began to speak up. “Say, whatcha doing here As? Business with Mayday.”

“Quite a bit but I can wait. Right now I’m in a pleasant mood to invite as many people to Ozzies as much as possible. How about it? Anyone in the mood?”

Everyone cheered with excitement from their voices. Pavel was tempted to join them but he remembered his responsibilities and he was not sure that he could run away the next time. Then he noticed Kiki sit upright and take the moment to get her word in as her hand slipped underneath his arm, “I got to ask, I know he’s a sinner and all that but can I bring him with me? Both of us know that sinners can’t travel between the levels.”

“A favor? From me?” He hummed to himself and walked back and forth throughout the room as he pondered his thoughts. Despite his boisterous introduction, his soul didn’t share the excitement of the Hellborn expressed throughout this room. Then the latest member of the group raised his head with his finger pointing in the air, “Ah ha! How about this? Your boyfriend can come if he can showcase how much he loves you. A bit of fucking and some snake action and I’ll consider it.”

“I… uh.” The disguised saved looked to the corner of his eye to see her nervous reaction at being presented with the opportunity. Yet, she was unsure and as time passed for her to come up with an answer, he eyes felt discomfort.

Soon he shook his head and brought his free hand to cover his girlfriend’s hand. “It’s okay. You don’t need to do that if you don’t want to.”

Hope came to her as she smiled before kissing him on the cheek. Then he turned his head upward at the bird-like creature folding his arms in disappointment.

“Shame I won’t get that invitation.”

The hidden killings of the Department of Purgatory’s investigators had gone well at first but Adam noticed a change in winds. He stood in the warehouse, looking at the computer displays of undercover operatives working for the movement who sought Lucifer’s downfall. While he got away with converting sinners to kill Azrael’s agents, it seemed as if they caught wind of their endeavors. They were adapting and it was working effectively.

He had expected the grim reaper to be slow and dealing with their cell but once they attacked that weapon shipment, it threw a wrench in the planning. They were being pressed for time and preparations for Hell’s destruction had its limits. His superior knew the odds would be stacked against them but if they played their cards right, there was a chance to take advantage.

His eyes looked at the exterminator working at her desk, fingers tapping against the keyboard. Lute had proven her loyalty to the cause with sheer zealotry and it was her skills that he would exceed his master’s desires. Right now, the current path was not as productive as before. “Get me the archangel.”

She briefly looked over her shoulder and nodded before returning to her work and typing away at the commands.

The old days flickered into his mind like a leaf on the wind. Living in Heaven after his death on Earth had elevated him into a position that the saved wished they could obtain but it also came at a price. Eve was tired of him but he had good reason to annoy her into leaving that relationship. She slept with the serpent - the Archangel of Hell and her curiosity got the better of her by bringing the apple they took a bite from. Then the anger of the holy father came soon after, although they spent their lives together as husband and wife, their love was never meant to last. He would not forget her transgression and she would not cease her recollection of spending time with Lucifer.

This was the reason why he hated him. He could have lived a perfect life and his former beloved would share the endless moments they had in the gardens of Eden with the burden of life being nonexistent. Then the pain came to him upon discovering the treachery of one of his sons, Cain and Able would have enjoyed life without jealousy and convictions for murder. The fallen son had to pay for giving him those troubles of being the first troubled father in the history of mankind.

It would soon change when the Holy Army quietly snuck into Hell behind the backs of the Department of Purgatory. Azrael had to be a complete fool to think that he would have a monopoly on the Isra network after the signing of the ceasefire treaty. At first, it was a recon mission to learn about the dark lord’s plans in the case of war but that soon changed upon seeing the most beautiful creature he had laid eyes upon. Although he was expected to showcase piety and an upright manner, they merely got in the way of his desire for the Queen of the Succubus - Lilith. Her lithe form inspired passion and the need to make her his as a form of vengeance.

The snake had his way with Eve but he would have his way with his beloved. All the forbidden acts of pleasure would be released if this creature lay on his bedside if fate permitted. What better way to humiliate the ruler of Hell than to cuck him of his wife? Then there was Lucifer’s daughter - an embodiment of his seed and defiance. The first soul who laid the foundation for mankind considered an opportunity to ravish her till her voice sang to the Heavens. Charlie did seem so eager to seek Heaven’s assistance in redeeming the damned so perhaps he had an incentive to ‘oblige’ her hotel in return.

Adam had so many opportunities. If he could not break the fallen archangel in a fight, then he could break his emotions through his family.

Lute announced the timing of the meeting. “He is here, sir.”

The exterminator straightened his back and raised his head tall with pride as the screen flickered from a void of darkness into displaying the true mastermind of these operations. An archangel sat alone in the center of a dark-lit room. Only one source of light lay above him with his silver and white armor, worn since the days of the War in Heaven until the devil fell from his throne. Few ever get a glimpse into this inner sanctum of silence, where the servant of God meditated and prayed.

His superior’s face remained hidden underneath a helmet with a golden cross before raising his head to face the video call. “This must be important, Adam.”

“It is, sire,” He said in a respectful tone. Now was the time to issue the news to him, “The plan to terminate the agents from the Department of Heaven has gone well at first but now they’re adapting.”

“Azrael is good at protecting his pieces. What is the status of my fallen brother and his daughter?” The superior questioned to elaborate on the relations with the royal family. He would answer with his observations.

“The Fallen One and the Queen of the Succubus paid a visit to his daughter but has only been brief. Since then, he has returned to the palace as usual.”

“Good. It is time that we end this charade once and for all but we shall not proceed with great haste. Surprise is still on our side and once it leaves us, there is little before the others find out,” The archangel clasped his chin with his armored gauntlet and began to ponder. Minutes passed until his hand rested atop his knee, “Activate Epsilon Procedure before we move with the Beta as before. Make sure you’ve made your preparations.”

Adam bowed his head to acknowledge his master. “By your command, Archangel Gabriel.”

A promise was made at that hospital and Agent One intended to fulfill his end of the bargain. Deep down, he was unsure if D.H.O.R.K.S.'s interference with the affairs of the afterlife was genuine but that red-headed director was real enough. So he proceeded to drive to a rural town in Connecticut, far away from headquarters and management with his partner. They were to hand over the latest catch to some intermediaries at a church. The agent didn’t know why these religious authorities were meant to pass it over but it certainly convinced him that some power was at work.

Agent Two was sitting in the passenger seat beside him. She reached into the cupholder between them and pulled a mocha drink into her hand, taking a sip before returning the cup to place. The young woman groaned but he knew it was the wound she took after the incident. Sedation played a hefty role in keeping her memory fuzzy of the events that transpired but hopefully, she wouldn’t ask too many questions about their destination.

He decided the only way to prevent that question from cropping up was some small-time banter. The man began to speak as they turned left on a T-section, getting closer to the meeting. “How’s your shoulder?”

“So long as we don’t do anything strenuous, I’ll be fine,” She dismissed any concerns for worry with a wave of her hand. Then a deep breath was made from within, “Any reason why we’re out here?”

“Remember that lamb fella that we caught awhile back?” So much for trying to avoid his real reasons.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“As it turns out, we pissed off the wrong people,” He began as his conversation transitioned into the subject that was brought up with that director, “Apparently, Heaven caught wind of us and wants us to stop trying to capture demons.”

They made their way towards a stop light and the man turned to find Agent Two confused at the revelation. Soon she looked at him and shook her head in disbelief. “They don’t want us to find demons? Our entire organization is made for that!”

“Yep.”

“That’s it? What does that have to do with the sheep guy?” She asked while perplexed by such a request.

“He works for Heaven and they want him back,” He answered before his foot pressed on the pedal and saw the church in brick and mortar. In front of the main entrance was a barren parking lot where two Christian priests were standing at the base of the steps. One was a Mexican father wearing a black robe as a younger Caucasian stood beside him, “There they are.”

“So do we know anything about the guys we’re meeting with?”

The information he had been given was sparse, giving him only coordinates and telling him to not be followed. Agent One didn’t know what to make out of it back then but it didn’t matter now. At the very least he and his partner were armed as they proceeded into the parking lot and prepared themselves to hand over their finding. “I got nothing but keep your sidearm close.”

He unlocked the door and stepped out of the white van. Agent Two followed suit as they stepped out of the vehicle and approached the priests in a casual stroll. Their sunglasses hid the focus of their eyeballs as they were met by two smiling members of the church. This place was unsettling and he didn’t know why.

“Hello, gentlemen.” He began by stealing a glance from the Caucasian man in his black slacks and gray shirt, “I believe we have a meeting to deal with.”

The Mexican priest to his left stepped forward and spoke. “My name is Father Garcia, hijo. It is quite a pleasure to meet you two. Do you have any names?”

“I am Agent One and the woman beside me is Agent Two. We work for the D.H.O.R.K.S.”

“Ah, you are the ones the cardinals spoke of,” The man beside the older father chuckled but the agent was used to that by now, “You are one of the rare few who have the opportunity to see a glimpse into God’s inner workings. Where is he now?”

He looked over to his partner and nodded his head. “Fetch him.”

“John, get the cabinet. I believe we all have uninvited guests.” It was a tone of suspicions being confirmed; yet, all it brought was confusion.

“What are you talking about?” Agent One was curious as he noticed the old man’s face hardened with resolve as his gaze focused elsewhere. He turned around to see what troubled him and as Agent Two brought the creature of Heaven from the van, three red sedans approached with great speed, ignoring the traffic lights on their way towards them. “What is going on?”

“Step inside the church. We are about to be besieged.”

A cold chill ran down his spine as the group immediately rushed into the church. Upon entering, the old father closed the two doors on his way inside. It was baffling how quickly everything devolved.

Agent Two was taken by surprise “What the Hell?!”

The younger father walked past him while carrying two shotguns in hand. He had seen many things in his line of work, strange sights but a priest carrying a twelve-gauge shotgun was not one of them. “Careful with the language. We are in a house of God!”

“Who is trying to attack us?” She asked as the servant of Heaven fluttered in the air.

“Satanic cultists. They probably followed you guys on your way here. This town has some problems and we have been sanctioned to cleanse it of taint.”

Soon the Mexican priest grabbed the shotgun and pumped the loading mechanism before patting his younger counterpart on the shoulder. “Hold the door, I need to get you three out of here.”

“Can we help you?” She asked curiously as they looked at the robed gentlemen walking past the empty chairs within the church. Father Garcia pressed onward towards the altar with haste, “We’re armed and can assist.”

“Not with this. John and I have a mission here and bringing you along would hamper it.” His answer came before his free hand made the sign of the cross towards a replica of Jesus Christ. Then he made a muffled prayer to himself.

“Hey, sheep guy. Any idea what he’s doing?”

Agent One looked to the creature of Heaven and saw him shrug his shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m only used to helping humans on Earth, not learning about them.”

“En nomine Patri, please grant these souls a safe blessed passage!” His words were filled with conviction as he took the moment to turn around and look at the three arrivals to this spiritual sanctuary, “This is all that I am allowed to do. You three are on your own.”

“Why are we included? Can’t we run to the van and drive off?” Questioned the young man. Surely this had to be a mistake and not a problem that got them further in trouble. Maybe this old coot was hit wrong in the head? Yet, he shook his head and cocked his shotgun.

“You can try but these cultists will not let you go far. The Holy Father will grant you a way out, should you choose to permit it.”

The fabric of reality began to change in front of the altar. Behind the priest, a portal ripped open and revealed a red gleaming hole that led elsewhere. Heavy knocks smashed into the church doors as ramblings of men and women screamed outside. Father Garcia stepped forward and strode past them, joining his counterpart for the would-be breach. Agent One looked at the elderly man, baffled by his willingness to stand his ground but amazed by the contentment. “We can’t leave you two behind.”

“We are holy warriors trained to deal with the unspeakable and servants of the Profane Sabbath,” He replied while tearing his black robes away from his person, revealing ammo belts containing shotgun shells, “Go, the portal will not stay open forever!”

He could not conjure the words as the two humans and the cherub ran towards the portal with haste in their footing. Agent Two pulled out her sidearm and exchanged glances with him before jumping into the endless depths, screaming. The angelic creature seemed unnerved but he slowly flew in after her.

Now it was his turn. All of this seemed so unbelievable to a simple man working for an agency with an idiotic name. Before he got a chance to join his partner, the sounds of splinters and shattered wood snapped his attention. Looking back, dozens of red-robbed men and women chanted in Latin, rushing over to the two priests with complete disregard. They each carried bloodied knives in their hands but it was not enough as Garcia and John unleashed a hailstorm of pellets at the broken entrance.

A feeling in his stomach told him that it was wrong to leave them behind but he would not abandon his friend to the mysterious destination. His eyes broke contact and Agent One jumped into the portal, feeling regretful despite all reason telling him otherwise.

Minutes passed as he floated towards what seemed to be a bottomless crimson pit. It was enough time to contemplate what got him here as his mind trailed back to the medical center where the FBC met with him. Maybe there was a reason this secret society of strange creatures rarely showed themselves to the public. What exactly could it be? Why were they discouraged from ever revealing this knowledge in the first place?

The contemplation ended when his feet landed first and the man yelled for surprise as he stumbled into concrete pavement. Despite falling over, his legs were fine and he didn’t feel his tendons tearing themselves apart.

His partner’s voice gave him comfort upon hearing her. “Agent One, are you okay?!”

“Yeah, it’s not the worst landing,” Hands reached around his arms as she pulled him off the ground. As his legs stabilized on solid ground and his mind didn’t feel the urge to make him puke, he looked up and gave himself time to observe his surroundings. They were brought into a city and yet the sky was red. Every aspect of this setting did not feel right, “Where are we?”

“We’re in Hell.” Stated the formerly released Cherub.

The duo turned around to see him floating with his back facing them. Yet, his eyes were facing toward a massive building towering above the trio. Then his jaw dropped at the sheer height of being brought in front of such a structure. He looked upwards to find a sign in red lettering with golden lights displaying its shame for all to see.

“We’re at the Hazbin Hotel.”

Chapter Text

Fear and terror were all that Collin could muster after his arrival in Hell. To be sent into the dark realm only spurred his poor spirits. He had heard the horror stories and rumors from the few investigators who have been to this place and now he would have his own. The cherub couldn’t find solace in the company of his colleagues and his former captors were just as confused as he was.

One of the humans behind him spoke up and snapped his head into reality. “Hey, you know this place?”

“I’ve only seen the commercial but yeah,” Answered the angelic creature as he reluctantly floated towards the door. An explanation was required for the two accompanying humans. Everyone in Heaven saw Charlie attempting to explain her attempts at redeeming sinners. It was an admirable goal but one doomed to fail. At the very least, it would be the safest place compared to anywhere else. “This place is owned by the Princess of Hell but I think we’ll be safe here.”

“Wait, did I hear that right? You said that we’re in Hell? Why would two church priests send us here?” He had a point and the cherub turned around and shrugged his shoulders. The human on the right shook his head in disbelief amid his appearance in a black tuxedo and sunglasses.

“God probably works in mysterious ways.”

The woman beside him spat on the ground before brandishing her pistol from her clothing. They certainly did not buy his reasoning and even he doubted that the holy father would intend this place as his destination. She made her first steps towards the hotel towering over them. “We don’t have a lot of options so let’s go check this place out and that princess.”

The cherub’s stomach felt like turning as he floated towards the entrance. His eyes glanced towards the button beside the doorknob and paused. He was perhaps one of the first creatures of Heaven to ever step foot in this reality. From the moment that someone would answer the door, he would be the first to greet them. His finger pressed the button and the sound of a bell rang inside. What felt like hours were actually minutes of anticipating the would-be hosts.

“So you said a princess owned this hotel?” She wondered as the humans stepped closer and stood behind his back, “Why would she be running this place?”

“Miss Charlotte Magne Morningstar, apparently, wants to redeem sinners living in Pride. Though not everyone shares her view down here.” He hoped his answer would suffice.

“Wait, so if she’s the princess then who’s the dad?”

Collin forgot that these humans were not acquainted with the life that goes on in the afterlife. Although he shouldn’t be granting them that information, his exile from the pearly gates made him certain that he would never return. So what was the harm in telling them how things were run? “Princess Charlie is the daughter of King Lucifer, the ruler of Hell and the Fallen Archangel.”

“Agent One, I can see why we’re being told to cease and desist in our search.” She stated before whistling throughout the waiting period.

Heavy footsteps approached from within and the Heavenborn’s teeth began to chitter now that the ultimate moment had come. Soon the doorknob’s mechanisms began to turn until the front door swung open and revealed a tall crimson figure.

A dapper sinner greeted them in a pinstripe suit with sharpened shark-like teeth and deer ears attached to his head. In one hand was a vintage microphone while his free hand reached for his face and adjusted a monocle over the stranger’s right eye. Black irises widened and his jaw dropped as if taken aback by the arrivals. It was a sign that even the denizens of Hell didn’t see coming. “I expected the mailman. Oh dear, her highness needs to see this. Charlie!”

“Yes?” Called out a feminine voice from behind his back. The trio could hear a shuffle of footsteps come to the front door from within, “Why are you yelling?”

“We have guests and I think you need to take care of this.” He explained before turning his gaze upon Collin and his human companions. The cherub caught a glimpse of the man’s evil eye as he gestured for them to come inside with a gesture from his red fingertip glove.

“Great, I can’t wait to see them!”

The sinner turned around as they entered the building with great reluctance. It was difficult to contemplate that he would find himself in the very building containing the heir of Hell itself. Yet, here he was, afraid of what fate might have in store for him. All of the training instilled in the creature of Heaven never prepared him for this.

They were brought into a hallway when a blonde-haired figure stepped out of a room to their left and slipped into their view. Clad in a red suit, she clapped her hands together with a tremendous comforting smile upon her pale face with cheeks covered in large red dots. “Alastor? Who are these people?”

“You tell me,” Soon the greeter walked away and stood by her side. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This was the heiress to the dark kingdom, the ‘young’ woman who was publicly disgraced on live television. He had no right to be here as Collin grew worried about the possibility of encountering the man who waged war with the Council of Archangels, “This seems way up your alley.”

“Well then, if that is the case, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Princess Charlotte Magne Morningstar but you can call me Charlie. I’m not too big on formalities.” Answered the royal as she looked at the group of three.

The short-haired human step in front. “I’m Agent One and my partner is Agent Two. We work for an organization called the Demon Hunters of Recorded Knowledgable Sightings.”

“That is quite a mouthful.”

“Well, it’s because our acronym makes us get called D.H.O.R.K.S.,” He answered as his hand rubbed the back of his neck and lowered his head in shame, “We’re not exactly well-respected.”

She eyed Collin next while crossing her arms. “You don’t look like a human; however, you have those wings but that certainly does not make you an exterminator.”

“I’m not. My name is Collin and I work for Heaven, well, I used to work for them. It’s a long embarrassing story.” It would have been nice if Cleetus and Keenie were here to back him up. He always lacked a spine whenever it came to dealing with others. Then he noticed the host’s eyes brighten as if her prayers were answered.

“You’re from Heaven?! Then why are you down here? Are you here to check out my hotel?”

He was relieved when the human with the New Yorker accent interrupted. “Actually, miss, we’re here for entirely different reasons.”

The attention of the conversation fell upon him.

“My partner and I were supposed to hand this guy over because we captured this guy during one of our stakeouts. Apparently, the people of Heaven weren’t too happy about that. Long story short, we got attacked and were sent to this place.”

The sinner known as Alastor let out a chuckle and commented. “My, I would love to know about that conversation.”

“Not much I can say,” Agent One answered as his hands slipped into his pockets, “All I know is that there’s a Heaven organization known as the Department of Purgatory that apparently has some joint operation going on in Hell.”

“Truly? You are certain about this? The only time Heaven ever comes down here is during Extermination Day.” Collin noticed the man’s eyes look up at the ceiling as if he thought hard about this.

The princess seemed to be just as fascinated by the topic before her gaze looked up at the cherub. “Strange indeed. What do you know about them?”

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to even tell you.”

“It’s okay,” She seemed perplexed by his response, and with good reason as well. Even though he was exiled from Heaven, the consequences of revealing that kind of information would be more than trouble, “What’s the harm in informing us?”

The sheep with wings began to tap his hooves together in order to keep his nerves calm. Then his eyes stole a glimpse of Alastor’s cupping his chin with his fingers. A vile grin was all he could provide to instill a semblance of fear in the cherub. “Well, they’re one of the few organizations who have agents working undercover in Hell. They like to disguise themselves as sinners so nobody notices.”

“Oh.” Charlie was taken aback by this revelation as surprise covered her face. Now he had crossed the Rubicon and it was only a matter of time until his explanation resulted in more permanent punishments than the one he was undergoing.

The whole department was on edge and Tony wished he could produce substantial results to end the policies that stressed every soul working for Azrael. His office was a mess, his desk containing an assortment of papers and rough drafts of reports that would never see the light of day. Had he left the door open to any passersby, it wouldn’t surprise the old courier that his coworkers would start whispering rumors behind his back. Then again, he would be competing with others like Hannigan

He shifted his weight around with a push from his legs and spun his chair to the right. The former post-apocalypse survivor scanned through the papers in front of him, they were approval requests to organize dedicated strike teams in case the crew in charge of the priority mission would get additional support. The man reached for his breast pocket and clicked his pen before signing his signature onto the line below. Black ink was etched onto the paper with ease, once finished, the wastelander-turned-bureaucrat brought it to a series of trays to his left.

Part of him missed the glory days of his life when he traveled the Mojave with a floating Enclave robot and a scribe from the Brotherhood of Steel. His hands reached behind his head before leaning back in his chair to take a break from tiring his eyes and reminisce about past adventures. Most people would find the life of dealing with mutants, radiation, and raiders to be a hardship - not for him. There was a degree of excitement when it came to exploring the land and mapping the locations out before he would end up fighting on behalf of the New California Republic and the innocents who would be at the mercy of Caesar’s Legion. Memories of pure friendships came to mind as he thought about the fiery redhead with a double-barrel shotgun dragging him to a bedroom to make sweet love.

The one that stood out for him was when he helped the scribe find closure after she caught a glimpse of her grandfatherly figure’s message. It was a painful experience to see what madness his mind had devolved into after the Battle of Helios One. Despite all of the time since he was press-ganged into the old man’s service, he would not grant Father Elijah mercy after learning the full extent of what he did to Veronica and her girlfriend. As much as he would love to put him under six feet of concrete, torturing him with a slow death was fitting for a man of his position.

When the fate of New Vegas was decided at the Second Battle for Hoover Dam, it wouldn’t be long until Tony would find solace in death and be buried in an unmarked grave somewhere even his closest companions wouldn’t find. Then there was his initial service as an investigator to the Department of Purgatory alongside the countless numbers of men and women disguised as sinners. Few people would know of the work he had done under Azrael but fewer would know how he even got to be his second-in-command.

It was supposed to be simple. The accidental placement of a saved soul in Hell had one last day before her existence in the dark realm would be permanent. An investigator would show up and bring her to a safe house for extraction - he was supposed to perform in that critical moment. All policy demanded that he followed procedures but when he saw the grey-skinned moth walking side-by-side with the princess of Hell, smiling with pure joy, he couldn’t proceed. It hurt him knowing that Vagatha Veracruz would be damned because he hesitated to do his job and was traumatized by his experiences in life. What kind of person would he be if he ripped her away from someone she absolutely loved? It would be no better than Father Elijah ripping Veronica away from her beloved.

Much time had passed since that fateful day and the inaction continued to haunt him.

Pondering about the past came to an end when the voice of his superior caught the man off-guard. “Tired?”

“Ah, shit!” Tony stumbled in his chair as he straightened his back and turned around in his chair to see the Grim Reaper towering over him with his scythe in hand. He looked past the figure to find his office door still closed. It can be unsettling how an archangel was capable of surprising him. “Azrael, knock next time.”

“You were staring into the ceiling. I felt it was worth checking on you.” Even though it was a sound reason, the former courier was not keen on experiencing that a second time.

“A bit of courtesy is appreciated.”

“My apologies then. May I take a seat?” Tony glanced to his left to somehow find an empty armchair in his current mess before gesturing his hand over. The Archangel of Death strode towards the furniture and sat down looking at him with a void underneath his hood, “You seem deep in thought. Do you have anything on your mind?”

They had this conversation countless times and the number would increase. Azrael’s ability to listen to his own thoughts made him more than just a boss but rather a friend. “Just thinking about that time when I didn’t do my job. To this day, I still don’t know why you promoted me since then.”

“If I wanted someone who would follow the department’s rules to the letter, it would be easy to pick someone.” He answered before resting his scythe across his lap.

“Yet, you picked me,” Memories of the interview reminded him of the dread when he sat alone in a room and the head of the department discussed his file. Stealing a glance from the very Heavenborn, he adjusted the tie on his office apparel, “You’ve never told me why I was chosen to be your second-in-command.”

“Most of the saved usually comply with our rules without question. Although I respect their dedication, this department has to afford compromises whenever they matter. This was one of them. When you failed to return Miss Morningstar’s girlfriend to Heaven, it merely provided a glimpse of your character. In the end, you did the right thing.”

The Grim Reaper’s assurance wasn’t enough as Tony leaned forward and hunched his back over his knees. Every time he thought about Vaggie, whispers of failure seeped into his mind as he doubted himself. “Is it right for me to let her soul be damned for eternity? She was supposed to be in Heaven.”

“I know,” The dark figure lowered his head as his hands gripped the scythe, “Yet, the alternative wouldn’t have been better. Sure, you would have saved Vagatha’s soul but you would have ripped Charlie’s beloved from her arms. All that would do is inspire hatred for us in Heaven. Life is complicated, I’ve understood that from the moment my brother rebelled against us and our father.”

A phone rang in someone’s pocket. The former wastelander pulled the device from his black slacks, only to discover that it was not his. Then he looked across the room to find Azrael reaching into his robes and revealing his phone. Bone fingertips tapped against the surface of the screen as bright light revealed the skull underneath his hood. 

“It’s mine, do not worry.” He said before standing up and bringing his weapon upright.

That was a sign that it was important. “Did something come up?”

“Yes. Two humans and an exiled cherub were sighted at the Hazbin Hotel. You might want to get changed because part of me wants to have a talk with the poor guy about revealing our organization to the Princess of Hell.”

It was ironic that he said those very words. Few people would be horrified at the amount of field work that would involve but the truth was that Tony lived for them. Anything was better than sorting out paperwork in a closed office.

Hunter had a hopeful outlook on the world and with good reason. There was a chance for him to see the other side, to atone for the sins of the past. Then his girlfriend’s future made him happier for the better. The secret job he took for the servants of Heaven provided him the fruits of his labor with paychecks to finally live a better life for the time being until his work would be recognized. 

His hands carefully sliced the doctor’s sausage with efficiency and precision atop the chopping board. Maria had been promoted from her work and she felt it was time to find a way to celebrate the moment with a fine dinner. Both had spent hours at the grocery stores to find recipes from their different cultural backgrounds to make the few dishes at the table. Although twenty years of living in the Moscow Metro had forced the former soldier of the Soviet Union to change his appetite, he never truly forgot the quiet days of eating at the table with his comrades in the military.

The woman he had fallen for had walked beside him and leaned over to see his handiwork. “What are you making that would require that much meat?”

“Potato salad,” He answered with gusto. It was an old recipe that was a staple in his younger teenage years. Despite its simplicity, the food was a staple of his during school, “What do you think?”

“You’re going to cut up all the sausage? That’s enough for several meals? You’ll get fat just from stuffing yourself.” She expressed his dismay at the sheer volume he was cutting up as he looked to his right to find an entire bowl of peeled and carefully cut-up potatoes and carrots waiting to be mixed with the meat.

“Well, I could use it for work. We have all that tupperware in the cabinets and no one uses it.”

“That doesn’t mean you get to eat like a king,” The Mexican remarked as she began folding the flour of uncooked dozens of empanadas on a metal tray, “So what have you been doing lately?”

The question had taken him by surprise but Hunter was quick to avert the conversation from focusing on his work. She didn’t need to know about the wetwork and the briefcase of guns in his closet. Yet, he had the perfect excuse thanks to his meeting with an old friend in his living life. “There was this kid I met at the bar. He and I found out we were both in Hell and got reacquainted.”

“Really? Tell me more about him. Must have brought some memories back.”

“His name was Artyom, a shy young man who didn’t get out much. We met before he was ten but I ended up becoming his mentor figure for a good chunk of his life. Taught him how to shoot and gave him a bit of confidence when it came to women. Shame to think he’d end up down here like the rest of us.” It was a somber thought when it occurred to him. The child he trained would be forever damned to eternity in the dark realm while his soul was redeemed. Artyom always looked up to him whenever he turned up at Exhibition station, hoping to fill his eyes as the tales of adventures would inspire him to make his own. Three years had passed since those days and part of him wondered about the sins he committed to find his place.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if you invited him over,” The woman added as she enclosed the final empanada filled with chicken and corn, “We don’t get a lot of company around these parts but I believe it would be nice to have a visitor.”

He looked over his head and smiled. Where was this woman in this life? Had they crossed paths before, the old soldier would have married this Latina and settled down in a nice quiet neighborhood. “Appreciate that.”

“Anything for you. Now are you going to finish cutting or can I use the oven?” She asked of him. Hunter settled his knife down as he thought of a good moment to be sweet to her.

“I don’t know. Are we going to have dessert later on?”

Soon his arms wrapped around her, taking her by complete surprise. “Hey, watch it pendejo! You’re getting flour all over my dress.”

“Sooner or later, you’ll want to take it off,” He remarked as his face began kissing her neck, knowing how intimate their relationship was. Then their bodies rocked back and forth while Maria giggled, “After we eat?”

“That depends. Are you going to be a good boy?”

They both laughed knowing the answer before they would return to their cooking.

Helen Mayberry strolled from the front of the hotel and watched as the local street was closed down for vehicles. Orange caution barriers were placed from one end to the other as a stage was being built up from the foundations to her left while trucks and motor homes were parked in organized rows to her right. It would be difficult for Railtracer to find a parking space after he returned from work but given his reputation as Verosika’s boyfriend, there were bound to be some considerations to be made.

She barely had time to register as a man shouted from her right flank. “Hey, watch your head?”

The teacher immediately ducked as two burly Hellborns, a Greed Shark in a wife beater shirt and a black Hellhound in blue jeans carried over a pack of metal poles strapped in zip ties. Once they were out of the way, she stood up and shook her head in disbelief. She knew that Hell was a mess but they always had some form of safety standards. Perhaps she would make her complaint to the people in charge before they would ignore it completely.

Her time was spent straightening out her blue and tattered skirt before the woman’s hands began to pat out the wrinkles within the pink shirt. Feeling content with her appearance, she strode across the street with pride. It would mean little in the end when Helen looked around to see the workers; men and women, cat-call her appearance through whistles and remarks. Without hesitation, the sinner’s temper boiled immediately as rage encompassed her face until they retreated their attention back to building up the concert in the streets.

Upon reaching the other side, her blood simmered and relief fell upon her shoulders after leaving the public view. She walked into a dark-lit alley with the hopes of finding a way to the other side of the block and finding a sidewalk toward the groceries. Thoughts pondered about everyone’s reactions back there and it sparked questions about the ex-husband she brought to the grave. Those people earlier were willing to openly state their feelings for her despite being unwarranted; yet, Gerald was the one who simply saw someone else and took the opportunity to cheat on their marriage. Why couldn’t he see what was there in front of himself instead of seeking pleasure so short-lived?

Concrete ground pounded with each step she took. Despite the loudness of the sound enough to scare off the trash critters that lived in these parts of the neighborhood, there was a sense of loneliness in the surroundings while a cold chill ran down her spine. A menacing atmosphere arose and she wondered what it would bring for her. No weapons were on her as she left her immediate weapons at the hotel or in her car, which was currently being driven by Railtracer.

Soon her stomach felt unease as she arrived at a T-junction. Then footsteps came from behind as a loud click echoed throughout the alleyway. A familiar voice announced himself. What was once a man she loved so dearly was a bastard who stood in his shoes. “Hello, honey.”

“Gerald?” Helen turned around and recognized the sinful form that was her husband. He stood straight and tall in a white suit with an M1911 pistol drawn in his hand and the barrel pointed toward the woman. Where once his handsome head would be was a twisted form of a dolphin with sharpened teeth and a hard gaze. Their previous encounter was fresh in her mind but she knew that their love had soured since that fateful day with the satanic bitch. What remained of her feelings was perfect hatred, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“To finish what you have started. Neither of us had to die. If you had just stayed at school, I would have gotten the best pussy ever and we wouldn’t be a laughing stock.” His words were hurtful, knowing that he did not seem to care about her feelings.

“So you never did love me?”

“Love you? The only reason we’re together is because out of pity!” The venom’s sting grew stronger knowing that their marriage was nothing more than a sham. Had there been no weapon, the teacher would gladly charge and tackled her assailant, “God’s sake, woman, almost everyone in town knows you’re shit at finding a boyfriend. It was the least good thing I could have done.”

All she heard from his lips were excuses as she clenched her hands into fists. Anger reignited like a flame starting a forest fire. Yet, none of it was able to be acted upon thanks to his weapon. “That doesn’t give you any right to cheat on me.”

“You were always a waste of my time. Shame that you didn’t make use of your ass and tits when we were alive. Would have made things interesting.”

“Damn you!” Mrs. Mayberry rushed towards him without hesitation. There was no holding back in her attempt to lung forward to reach over the bastard who ruined her life. In a blink of an eye, the alley flickered with light as a gunshot rang out. She barely had the time to register until her body slumped to the ground and an aching pain sent shockwaves throughout the rest of the body. Tears trailed from her eyes while screaming in agony on a physical and emotional level.

Her eyes looked up to see a dolphin expressing his disdain for her. Gerald shook his head in disbelief as he walked over to Helen’s body, only to kick with his shoe. “I’ve been watching you and checking out what days you’ll leave the hotel. From now on, whatever we had is gone and it's time we moved on.”

The sinner aimed the pistol’s barrel toward her head. It was a brief moment of defiance but deep down, the teacher realized her husband had the upper hand and now her existence would end.

“Goodbye,” Soon the air was sliced before the crackle of a whip reached out from the corner of her eye. The gun fell to the ground as blood began to trickle from his missing index and middle finger. Taken aback by both the attack and the pain, he stumbled back while trying to cope with the harm done to him, “Fuck!”

Helen was perplexed as she looked around the alleyway to see who had intervened on her behalf. Then she turned to her left and saw a lithe Hellborn step into the alleyway with the light against her back. Verosika Mayday approached as her high heels clicked against the hard concrete. She saw the weapon in her hand while casually wearing a loose white T-shirt and a blue pair of shorts. “What’s going on here?”

“None of your damn business, bitch!” He answered before reaching for his pistol on the ground. Another crack happened as the far end of the whip snapped between Gerald and the gun, causing him to retract his arm away from meeting the same fate.

“You know him, Mayberry?”

“My husband.” Her body coughed up blood but she would get on by while crawling towards the pistol that wounded her. Once in reach, the sinner eagerly grabbed for the grip and drew the barrel on him. Vengeance was here at last and finally, there was a chance to deal with the man who ruined their relationship, “Have a nice death.”

The trigger finger pulled and the dolphin attempted to shield himself from the gunfire. Yet, it was not enough as the bullets riddled into his body and knocked him back. Nothing would hold back the teacher’s wrath. When a bullet left the chamber, another round would be fired to be unleashed on the man who made her blood boil. He found himself landing against the wall, his undamaged hand trying to pull himself up on the brick and mortar but his strength failed. Not long after, a body plopped onto the ground and blood seeped from the corpse.

She lowered her hand and looked down to see blood leaking through. “Ugh, I don’t feel too good.”

“Oh shit!” It was a surprise when the succubus ran to her side and wrapped her arm around her back. Mayberry hadn’t realized that she was about to fall over while the Hellborn pulled out her phone and started tapping against the screen. “Hello, this is Verosika Mayday. I need EMS right now.”

Life was beginning to slow as the sinner looked up at the sky to see the small white dot in the distance. A bit of sleep wouldn’t hurt.

The headquarters of C.H.E.R.U.B was a breeze as the constant reports of newly-acquired saved souls flowed through the system. Deerie flew into a breakroom and turned to her right, immediately looking forward to filling herself with coffee and biscuits. As she snatched a cup from the side of the coffee machine on the counter, there was a strange feeling falling over her. It was rare but the manager knew it would be over before she knew it.

The woman placed the cup underneath the dispenser and clicked the massive red button for her favorite drink to come out. Three beeps signaled before hot mint chocolate poured out. It made her smile, knowing it won’t be long to have this treat.

Then her shoulder was tapped by a finger. Deerie turned around to find the tall and terrifying presence of the Grim Reaper towering over her. “Hello there.”

She squealed in terror and backed away from the Archangel of Death with his scythe in hand.

“We have much to talk about,” He stated as he presented his boney fingers and snapped them. In a blink of an eye, the scythe disappeared out of reality before hiding the hand underneath the black robes, “We need to talk about your policy of exile for failure.”

When her feelings of terror subsided, Deerie regained her composure as a sweet and caring cherub. She needed to inform the leader of the Department of Purgatory about C.H.E.R.U.B’s work culture. “Sir, I do not see how it would be any of your concern. It’s not like your personnel are being exiled.”

“My field reports disagree. As of right now, one of your cherubs is now in Hell and threatening the capacity of my investigators and their operations.” His tone seemed to be annoyed and implying that he didn’t want to be here at all.

“Then that would be a ‘you’ problem than mine,” She replied nonchalantly. Whatever happened in Hell was not in her purview as she turned around for her cup, now filled to the brim. Yet, Death hand’s reached past her and grabbed it before taking a brief sip, “Hey! Don’t you have any manners!”

“I do but I’m no longer in a pleasant mood. What you need to understand is that one of your cherubs is in Hell, spilling his guts out about the existence of our organization to a few. Do you have any idea how much effort it took to cultivate the level of secrecy to make sinners and Hellborn alike believe that we only show up on Extermination Day? All that for naught because your people refused to handle its issues and I have to clean up after you. How do you think the council to take it that you’ve done something incredibly stupid to earn their full attention?”

“Oh.” Deerie realized the gravity of the situation as Azrael finally conveyed his point to her. Of all the organizations in Heaven, she never truly got the bearing of the Department of Purgatory. Azrael was always known as the relaxed archangel who would merely voice his sympathy to the denizens of Hell and now the cherub caught a glimpse of his patience fading into nonexistence. A line had been crossed and he was here to finally point the obvious.

He let out a deep sigh before retreating away from her and taking a seat at a brown coffee table behind his back. Then he took a few moments to drink before continuing to speak. “It is thanks to some mortal clerics and the FBC for taking their time out of their own to tackle this issue. My department is preparing an extraction plan to bring a cherub known as Collin back to the confines of Heaven. Do you have a reason as to why they were even exiled in the first place?”

“Wait, Collin?”

“I take that you know of him?” Pondered the Grim Reaper as he finished drinking her cup and crushed the container with his bare-bone hands. Then with great accuracy, he threw the garbage into a can to his left with complete disregard for his aim. His ‘eyes’ turned to her and contemplated, “Elaborate.”

She recalled her previous encounter with the cherub and his team after their disastrous attempts at saving the soul of a morally bankrupt rich man. “He and two others were tasked with saving the soul of someone by the name of Lyle Lipton.”

“Ah, the rich man who tried to escape me. Go on.” It shouldn’t have been a surprise at all given that his department sorted out souls on a daily basis. Though, it was a surprise that he even knew this specific one given the daily amount that gets processed across multiple realities.

“Well, they said something about someone interfering with their work but I didn’t look into it,” That was all that Deerie could remember before casually leaving her coworkers behind. Was there any detail she had forgotten? “So I suppose that is all I can say.”

“So he’s there because of I.M.P. which led one thing to another. Well, looks like it's up to me to rescue him.”

“Are we done with this informal meeting?” The cherub looked at her watch and reminded herself of her schedule. She had a yoga class in the evening.

He shook his head and rose from his seat. Then his fingers snapped until the iconic scythe appeared in his very hands. “We are done but you must change that policy of yours. If this happens again, I will be sure to do more than make a complaint. That is not a warning but a fact, do you understand me?”

No words were able to describe the chill on her spin as she shook her head frantically. Perhaps this was a brief glimpse into the archangel’s dark side.

“Good. Farewell.” Azrael raised his weapon and tapped the bottom of the shaft against the floor. In a blink of an eye, he was gone but the impact of his words remained.

The disguised redeemed soul occupied the rooftop of I.M.P. by his lonesome. A white plastic chair was all that Artyom would need as he looked the moment to admire the city atmosphere. A cigarette was pulled from a pack hiding within his breast pocket before brandishing the bullet lighter and flicking the top over. His thumb spun the spark wheel, hearing the small scratches until the small warmth of a flame was ignited. It wasn’t long until the end of his cigarette burned and the lungs relaxed with the latest poison.

All of the weapons had been cleaned and repaired. His work was done and he could go back to the hotel and find solace in his bedroom but it wouldn’t be enough. This existence in the afterlife was beginning to lose meaning ever since that fateful night with Colonel Mel’nikov’s death. While his list of acquaintances and possibly friends were slowly growing the longer he spent time down in Hell, vengeance for such a loss continued to weigh heavily on his mind. The scar of such a memory etched onto him like a scab from an old wound. His new posting was supposed to be the beginning to find the person responsible. Yet, no progress was being made.

His feelings on the mission were mixed. Artyom still itched for the day when he would be validated through blood but the assignment to be at Charlie’s side frustrated him. He did appreciate the company at the Hazbin Hotel but it was holding him back. Time would tell if Tony’s promise to help him would be enough. As much as he wanted to doubt the man, it would merely lead to a road of despair. Two decades of living in metro tunnels was his experience with the subject matter.

“Watcha doing by yourself?”

The Russian looked over his shoulder and saw Millie leave the staircase doorway. Her clothing was much more formal, a tan dress lined with black, revealing her bare shoulders. If his intuition was anything to go by, Moxxie’s and his wife would be setting off for intimate moments together. Why she was here was anyone’s guess. “I don’t know. Just wanted some time to myself before returning to the hotel. Where exactly are you going?”

“Moxxie and I are going to meet up with Blitzo and Stolas. Then we’re going Ozzie’s together to have a grand ‘ole time.” She answered with delight in her voice. The excitement seemed to be barely held back but it was brief when her expression displayed a look of worry, “Shame that you and Verosika won’t join us.”

It wasn’t going to happen. The succubus was practicing for the concert just outside the Hazbin Hotel and the date was approaching. Artyom doubted she would have the time to afford it. “She’s just busy with her work and I don’t want to interrupt her concentration.”

“Aw, so nice of you. You two should go out after she’s done. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.” Millie was quite caring in that moment and Artyom’s mood was lifted. For a creature of Hell, the goodness from her emotions was leaving an impression on him. Hell was a chaotic mess of a society but not inherently evil as expected by scripture and imagery propagated by the men of the cloth.

The right pocket buzzed as he reached inside his pants and pulled out his phone. Tony was calling him directly and that meant he would need some privacy.

“Well, I have to go. Have a good one.”

The imp walked back to the doorway without hesitation. Despite the trust earned with every member of I.M.P., he had to be sure she was gone lest someone listened to the call. A minute passed as he looked back to the phone in his hand and tapped the green phone icon on the screen. Bringing it close to his ear, the disguised saved waited for the response.

“Artyom, we have a problem,” Tony’s voice was loud and clear. The firmness of his voice indicated a serious update that needed to be conveyed. Such was life for people like him as his superior continued, “Don’t go back to the Hazbin Hotel. There’s a developing situation I need to tackle.”

“What exactly is the problem?”

He heard the man’s breath echo into the speakers. A sigh of utter frustration and it wouldn’t take much for the investigator to imagine his compatriot holding his forehead by two fingers. “So there are three people who just showed up on Charlie’s doorstep. Two are human demon hunters who kidnapped Blitzo in that one ambush and one is a cherub. The demon hunters are a breeze but the Heavenborn can sense a saved when any one of us is nearby. I can’t let you go back because the guy might blow your cover.”

“Then what do you expect me to do?” The news of this trouble was a problem, one which interfered with his objective of providing protection for Lucifer’s daughter. Nonetheless, he hoped the second-in-command of the department would look out for him. Perhaps he should return to where the crew resided. “The hotel is the only roof I can have over my head. There’s nowhere else for me other than the safe house.”

“Make do with what you have. That car is going to be your house for the time being until I can extract those three. That is unless you have something in mind.” It was disappointing to hear; yet, Artyom was used to a lifetime of making the best out of the worst situations.

“Nyet.”

“Good luck, buddy.”

Chapter Text

A lone investigator sat on his lonesome after the news of being forced to exile himself from the hotel. Artyom carried on existing in Hell but there was so much he could do in Mrs. Mayberry’s car. So the old habits of his former post-apocalypse life came to be in the chance to stave off boredom. He had the luxury of his pay in Heaven helping him in Hell and now his hard work in the Department of Heaven would provide him a meal fit for a king, by the standards of the Moscow Metro. There had been a fast-food restaurant nearby and a mere visit was all he needed until the staff wanted to close down.

The redeemed soul sat in one of the many booths and slipped his gas mask off. He looked down to find a red plastic tray laid before him, food poisoned by a glistening layer of grease. An open box was placed on the left, presenting French fries covered in a brown and yellow mix of goo. Beside it was a bag of crispy chicken tenders releasing wisps of heat from underneath. At the center was a massive burger containing two cheese-covered meat patties separated by lettuce, sliced tomato, and chopped onions. This warm meal was flanked by two large styrofoam cups containing a root beer float.

His stomach growled with hunger from within as he took a mere fry and placed it in his mouth. Melted cheese and chili meat sauce found themselves swarming his taste buds like a flood. The saved still had to get accustomed to the rich flavor of the food in the afterlife, especially when it came to Hell. Everything was made to exist with short-lived life or with some form of excess and food was no different in this regard. He reached out for another fry and began to savor the meal with gusto, appreciating its crude form with a smile on his face. Such small pleasures were what helped him ignore the restaurant staff and the other customers.

“Railtracer!” Artyom’s heart stopped for a brief moment as he realized his current situation. He had distracted himself long enough that someone managed to sneak up on him; yet, the stranger’s voice sounded like he recognized him. Then the Russian looked to his left to find a muscular and dark-furred Hellhound in ripped black clothes. Beside him was a fox-like woman with four arms walking, “Hey, you remember me? Don’t you?”

He took the moment to look back upon his memories but the disguised investigator didn’t need to think long. The stranger was there at the beach party, who was far more vigilant back then. “I do. You’re Verosika’s bodyguard. Vortex, right? What are you doing here?”

“Well, she’s getting ready for the concert tonight. So I got some time off to hang out with my girlfriend. Bee, I like to introduce someone to you.” The man seemed excited as the atmosphere changed.

A feeling of dread was instilled in his emotions while his lover walked over to the table booth with a smile on her canine-like face. He knew not why only that her presence invoked his mind to quietly rest his hand over a holstered pistol on his side. Of course, he did not in order to maintain the facade of being a sinner trying to live another casual life in Hell.

“Railtracer, meet Beelzebub, my girlfriend. Bee, meet Railtracer, Verosika’s sinner boyfriend.”

She giggled and wings from her back began to flutter, causing the woman to rise off the ground. “Oh, it’s rare to have a sinner in our circle of friends. I’m kinda curious about how a guy like you ended up with a girl like her.”

“Well, it began when I a shot her,” Artyom replied with the truth but he didn’t know how her reaction would take it, “Then I patched her up.”

“Really? I’ll be honest, she must be desperate or there was more to that patching if you know what I mean.” Beelzebub remarked, unfortunately, the supposed innuendo was lost on him. At the same time, her comment was surprising.

The conversation about his succubus girlfriend merely sparked a heartfelt interest in her well-being and whereabouts. He looked over to Vortex as he reached for his drink and sipped ice cream lathed in root beer from a straw. “Speaking of which, how’s she doing?”

“Verosika was supposed to make her last-minute practice but someone from the Hazbin Hotel got shot by her ex-husband. A sinner by the name of Mrs. Mayberry,” The world stopped upon hearing the news. One of his few acquaintances within Hell was injured and his soul felt compelled to check on her. No obligation was involved but it felt like the right act to do as a friend, “I don’t know the details but the last time I heard about them, they were heading over to the hospital.”

“Where is the hospital?” He questioned as he began to prepare to take away his food.

The final preparations for the concert were underway. Verosika’s promise was coming to fruition but whether it would attract new sinners who sought redemption was a completely different matter entirely. It was quite the gamble by Charlie but the girl’s creative ideas for the hotel had to be tempered. Not that it was a bad characteristic.

Vaggie stood by the edge of the balcony and looked down at the world below. The building’s height was impressive in scope; yet, she could clearly see the work the concert staff below finished with setting the stage. Beyond the perimeter closed off to the denizens of Hell, thousands of visitors were waiting outside as night began to fall. Her eyes gazed out to the nearby parking lots, finding a trail of people leaving their cars to join the eager crowds.

Tonight was going to be eventful, especially with all the sins of gluttony and lust provided. How ironic that it would take place outside a place meant to rehabilitate souls to Heaven. Despite all of the mockery and derision from others, she would stand beside her girlfriend no matter the obstacle. That heart of hers weighed more than all of the public acclimation in the world.

Shoes slide with the carpet flooring behind the woman. It didn’t take long to recognize the man once his microphone stand tapped against the ground. She expressed a growl of ire and annoyance. “What do you want, Alastor?”

“You need to work on your manners, miss,” The damned latina turned around and saw the Radio Demon standing at the center of two double doors. What twisted words did he want this time? She doubted their words would have any meaning but it was not worth underestimating an overlord of his stature, “Charlie and I have… encountered some new guests who just came in earlier.”

“What of it?” She had heard about the commotion down below but she never truly met them in person. If he was here because of them, then this conversation had a reason to exist. After all, why would an overlord concern himself with this?

“One of them was a creature of Heaven, a cherub to be exact. I normally would not care but what he said was truly fascinating and it pertains to the subject of our little Russian friend.”

“Railtracer?” Vaggie did not like the implications of what her latest company would state as he approached the balcony edge and looked up at the sky. She followed his gaze to find him staring at the white round blip among the stars, “You seemed so interested.”

“Collin spoke of something important. The child mentioned an organization who specialized in infiltrating our social order that is Hell and that concerns me, more than I would like.” He lowered his head and his free hand began to rub his thumb and index together. It was the first time he looked troubled and that meant it was serious.

“Must be important for you to look like that.”

It was the first time in her life that she saw the overlord express a brief smile. At first, it seemed comforting until his face grimaced at the thought. “The creature referred to an organization known as the Department of Purgatory. I’m not exactly sure about it but he certainly is not lying. I can tell just from a glance alone. The others? Well, they seemed to corroborate his fanciful tale.”

“It sounds ludicrous.” She remembered that time when Railtracer was caught alone during Lucifer’s visit and the interrogation at the clothing store. The sinner recalled her demands about asking for information about the department. He never did say other than threatening him wasn’t going to make him break his vow of secrecy, only that he was there to protect Charlie. Ever since Alastor brought this up, the story of the arms repairman working for I.M.P. didn’t add up, “Why would they be infiltrating Hell?”

“Perhaps they are the reason the exterminations occur on a daily basis. They scout us out and when everything is ready, they call their killers to target us. Who knows? All I have is theory and conjecture, which are in ready supply save for the evidence backing their credibility.” He was treating this matter seriously, no longer was he the entertaining radioman trying to charm his way into better graces. Rather, he seemed so cold and calculating as his hand latched onto the stone railing and his fingers tapped. What happens now?

“Maybe we should tell Charlie about this?”

“Tempting as that would be, I believe she would not know what to do. We need more than mere suspicions to garner her attention.” He added seemingly unsure about his convictions.

This balcony would be the first time that Vaggie wished the Radio Demon was far more insidious than he let on. It would be a simple description and move on from that reality but this conversation planted doubts about the sinner who claimed to be working for Lucifer. Was he truly protecting the princess or was he planted close to her by this very department? Time would tell and she would need to keep her blessed blade close enough if this infiltrator was trying to throw her off.

Blitzo did not think his date through. To be frankly honest, he had shown up at Stolas’ mansion with the business van without thinking about the Goetia’s height. He was fortunate that Moxxie and Millie took public transit as the embarrassment could have been worse. There was also the fact his boyfriend could open a portal and save face in the eyes of guests.

They stood outside of the entrance of the building as the half-naked incubus bouncer stared him down with a disdainful look. Blitzo rolled his eyes at him before the bird towering beside him cleared his throat. “Excuse me, will this take long?”

“No sir,” His facial expression changed upon hearing the noble’s annoyed feelings as he stepped aside and gestured his hand deeper into the hallway. He bowed slightly, showing the due respect owed to the high-ranking Hellborn, “Just in time for the show.”

The duo were quick to walk up the steps and make their way inside. It didn’t take much for the imp to notice the walls. Paintings and pictures were adorned with golden trimmings as they displayed the top viewings of the owner and his lover together. He recognized the clown-like imp embracing the embodiment of Lust - Fizerolli. His old childhood friend seemed happy with each picture they passed by.

Fond memories flickered from the back of his mind of the times they hung out at the circus together. He was the star of the show who earned dad’s approval while he would be berated in return. Then there was the harsh reality that he pushed him away when mom died that fateful night.

It was enough to cause him to cry and Blitzo kept his gaze away from his boyfriend lest he saw. As he regained his composure, the imp heard Stolas gasp upon reaching the main attraction.

“Oh my, what a wonderful delight to be had this night?! I cannot wait to see what the show has in store for us.”

They arrived at their destination and were welcomed by a decorative room, a detailed design meant to mimic the atmosphere of a theater. The center contained round tables, occupied by visiting couples from all across Hell, placed conveniently in front of a massive stage hidden away by blue and black curtains. It was difficult not to feel impressed as they were flanked by music boxes overlooking the crowd and the ceiling contained cages for Hellborn dancers or flying creatures roaming above.

An imp waiter approached them and escorted the homosexual couple to a table. One of the seats they resided on was fitted with books, enough for Blitzo to match half his lover’s height as they sat down. He looked at the theater stage to see the curtains remained unmoved. His boyfriend; however, was eager for small talk. “So how was your day? Did your sinner employee return to you as expected?”

“Yeah, the guy casually came back like it never happened,” He admitted before looking at the bird across from him. It was funny that he mentioned Railtracer since he was reminded of the day when his ex-girlfriend passed by to pay him a visit, “Nice guy. He even latched on to my ex if you could believe it.”

“Your ex? Who is it exactly?” The nobleman seemed perplexed as his head rested upon the palm of his hand.

“Verosika Mayday?”

“The pop star?!” His eyes widened with shock and it was clear that he knew the gravity of her reputation. Everyone was always shocked and who could blame them? Not many Hellborn could claim they slept with the singing succubus capable of draining the energy out of them out of pleasure with their partner, “There was no mention of this when we hooked up. Hell, I’m surprised it didn’t come up on the channels.”

Soon the imp laughed knowing the real reason. Verosika valued her public image while he preferred to attract customers, not by riding on the girl’s fame but built up by compliments of sinners who requested his services. It would have been great until he grabbed her credit card in started to spend it on horse-riding lessons because of a cowboy show in Wrath. “I’m a prideful imp who likes to earn his shit my own way. Things didn’t work out and now she’s dating my Russian sinner.”

“And you are okay with that? Wouldn’t it… interfere with the work of assassinating humans on the mortal plane?”

“We tried to hold a conversation about that,” He remembered the last time they spoke before the situation turned sour and he was needed on that job. The very one that got his… friend… arrested. The way he spoke of Verosika, was not voiced by ill-conceived lust but genuine heartfelt care he rarely saw in the dark realm, “Then the demon hunters snatched us up before we would work it out. In the end, I think he genuinely liked her and wanted me to come to terms with it. We never got that chance.”

A charming smile was all that Stolas could offer as he reached out from his end of the table. Yet, he stopped halfway as if he was anticipating the same act. “It’s quite rare for me to see you behave in a different way but I think it’s quite nice of you to have a talk about how to handle your former intimate relationship. I hope it won’t get in between us. You better give him that talk before you lose that chance.”

“It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Out from the corner of his left eye was a red imp with curled red horns walking to the entrance beside the stage. She was dressed in a sleeveless white and red turtleneck with yellow stripes across her body. For a moment, the world paused as the sudden realization from the depths of his mind began to surface.”

“Barbie?”

“Are you okay? Your face makes it look like you’re about to be sick.” Remarked the nobleman across from him.

He wanted to set off and speak to the person who walked out of his sight before focusing his attention on the date itself. It was something that he would have to check out after the show was over. “Sorry, I thought I saw my sister. It’s… it’s been a long time since we spoke.”

“When was the last time you two talked to each other?” Questioned the Ars Goetia as he retraced his arm from the table while the creature’s face shifted into a concerned look. It was weird to see him like this, “You’ve never spoken of your family before. The last time I saw someone close to you was your father.”

“Rehab. She had a bit of a drug problem after our mom died and dad was a terrible piece of shit who could care less about us.” There were enough bad memories to be had with that man before he made his decision to become an assassin. Then there was his run-in with the high-ranking nobleman.

“I… understand.”

Hearing those words eased his mind. Nice to have someone listen to his problems. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Stolas’ happy reaction was enough to brighten the mood of the atmosphere as he straightened his back with pride.

Blitzo blinked as he saw the prince struck in the shoulder. Blood splattered across the pure snow-white tablecloth as a gunshot crackled in the air. His boyfriend immediately howled in pain as his hand reached over his left shoulder convulsing from his wound. Without question, the imp scanned his surroundings in search of the shooter. “Where the fuck are you?”

Footsteps approached his table before stealing a glance to find Moxxie and Millie approaching with pistols in hand. It was relieving to have some extra help on the double date before his employees fired away to his right. Four musical boxes resided in the wall above the shocked crowd and couples, only for the head of I.M.P. to recognize an old acquaintance holding a smoking barrel in the second musical box from the left. He did not hesitate to brandish a flintlock pistol and aim it at the assassin. This was for the Harvest Festival. A pull of a trigger as the black powder shot whistled across the way and drew blood in the imp’s arm before he retreated out of their line of sight.

“Damn it, I missed.”

Vengeance was on his mind before Moxxie walked up and stopped him. “No.”

“What are you doing?! You’re going to let him get away!” His employee shook his head.

“Sir, I’ll take it from here,” He replied with resolute certainty, “I think Prince Stolas needs your help the most.”

The boss turned to see his partner grimace and groan. It was a good point and he granted his trusted associates with a simple nod. As they departed from their company, he clambered across the table and brought out his phone while checking the state of the royal’s wounds.

The investigator team that was once tasked with finding the weapons shipment had been recalled from their Hellside safe house and given a new assignment. Tony was personally overseeing their team’s assistance in running through a series of scenarios that would lay the foundations of the department’s plan to remove a cherub and two humans from the Hazbin Hotel. Azrael watched their inaudible conversations behind a glass window as he sipped his coffee and ate donuts from a small table placed in the hallway outside the room. It was only a matter of time before their arguments and counterarguments would come to an end until his second-in-command left the room with a substantial extraction operation.

He was not jealous of the saved souls as they had to find the best solution to the worst situation they have found themselves in. His second in command certainly had his support but there were times in this line of work that it was just not enough.

A presence was felt as the Grim Reaper recognized the arrival of his visiting brother. “The High Marshal deigns to visit. Now what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Your declarations at the council meeting had stirred me to reorganize the Holy Army to be wary of disobedience and secrecy. Now that takes time but I figured seeing how the sausage gets made may help inspire my efforts,” Archangel Michael answered as stood beside the collector of souls. Azrael looked over his shoulder to see him in his usual appearance of a black suit and tie instead of the suit of armor. He seemed interested in the current discussion inside the room, “This appears to be important. Do you care to summarize the situation or shall you leave me in the dark?”

“I’m cleaning up after the C.H.E.R.U.B department since they maintain a policy of exiling their workers onto the mortal plane. On a more significant note, they also gained the attention of a demon-hunter organization. There are three problems who are resting at the Hazbin Hotel and one of them is spilling his guts out about what goes on here. My second is making preparations for extraction before the opportunity slips from us of Ms. Mayday’s concert.” He provided his detailed explanation, hoping it would satisfy the leader of Heaven’s forces. Though, the Archangel of Death felt uncomfortable talking too much as he was unsure if his own kin was compromised as the perpetrators of the attack.

“Mayday, as in Verosika Mayday? Aren’t you a fan of hers? I thought you would be eager to see another showing of the succubus’ work.”

“Indeed I am,” There was no harm in entertaining his brother. Yet, here he was, standing outside a planning room. Azrael knew his priorities when it mattered, “But I know that duty comes first before pleasure.”

It was a rare moment for Michael to let out a chuckle from his lips. The War in Heaven destroyed his happiness in the aftermath of the ceasefire. So he was allowed the right to find humor at his expense. “So you say. Nonetheless, it’s probably safe to say you’re having an easier time than I am right now. Despite what the others say about your department, it at least has the confidence to proclaim it didn’t disobey and attempt to disregard our uneasy peace with Lucifer.”

“That you are correct.”

“I do have one question. What happened to the man who personally made a deal with you?” Now that was an odd request in this conversation of theirs. What interest did his brother have in Artyom?

The Grim Reaper turned his head and stared into his brother’s pale blue eyes. It was a look of concern and the Archangel of Death felt compelled to know why he was so specific. “Not like you to seek me out for such things.”

“You are right. Ever since that day, you advised me and Eve to spend a vacation in Tahiti, I’ve begun to wonder about the legacy she left behind in Russia. Does he even know?”

“No,” He had his reasons ones that were justified. Azrael spent countless hours reading through the personal file of his nephew and knew he was a byproduct of his mother’s attempt to move on from Adam’s lust for another. Humans were complicated and maybe the truth wasn’t ready to be looked upon. The redeemed had concerns about avenging the man who shaped him to be the soldier he is today, “From the way I’ve seen how some mortals and the Hellborn look upon their fathers with terrible shame, perhaps it’s better that way.”

They broke eye contact as they stared back into the room to find a frustrated Tony sitting in a blue plastic chair. Yet, the topic remained in their conversation. “The longer I think of him, the more I begin to feel like Lucifer. You are perhaps the only confidant whom I can trust in moments like these. Still, it feels wrong not to tell him of his holy heritage.”

“His trauma about his mother being ripped away in death still remains and fears that the history of his life would alienate her.” It was the perfect summary of the Russian who walked the post-apocalyptic world and tried to move on.

“So that is what it was. Then I suppose my visit was for naught. Here’s to good fortune and triumph in your quest to deal with the traitors.”

The High Marshal’s presence was no longer felt as he stole a glance at the spot where he once stood. Nowhere to be seen, Death felt unsure about the direction that the future may hold for him. He hated uncertainty but such was life in the shadow of the War in Heaven. His nephew’s future also joined him in that regard; fortunately, it would change with some lessons from the fallen one.

His mind had been busy until he heard a door open to his left. Tony’s voice alerted him from the internal thoughts that plagued him as he turned to his left to find his second standing before him with his brown duster coat, khaki pants, and the famous black riot armor. Underneath the man’s arm was a helmet that complemented his appearance with its red-tinted glass eyes. “Have you come to a plan?”

He shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have the goddamn time and there’s so little of it left,” The mortal could at least claim he tried to set up a plan to salvage a deteriorating situation from bad to worse, “I’m going to make a gamble of visiting the hotel myself. The thing is, I’ll also have to acknowledge the existence of our organization as well.”

“Has it truly come down to that?” Questioned the Grim Reaper. There had to be an alternative than to openly reveal that information to Charlie. Such was the status quo since the department’s inception and now its foundations would be shifted just from this one act alone. If the Princess of Hell and her compatriots knew, there was no going back. It’s not like they could silence the witnesses through other means. After all, it would only rekindle the animosity that Lucifer had for Heaven.

“I’m afraid so.”

Time was precious and this matter couldn’t have been thought over. There was no luxury to turn back and so he was forced to come to a conclusion given that the other solvable options were nonexistent at this time. “Do it.”

A sinner woke up and saw a white ceiling upon opening her eyes. Mrs. Mayberry didn’t know about her current whereabouts. Raising her head from the soft embrace of a pillow, she slowly regained her senses. She had been lying on a cot with an IV tube running through her arm as a patient gown was all the teacher wore. To her immediate right were machines checking for her heart rate and other vitals, each screen attached to a wire linking to some sensors placed throughout her body.

A door to her left swung open as Verosika Mayday stepped into the room while dragging a chair from the hallway. Upon seeing her awake, she looked surprised and immediately spoke. “You’re awake! The doctors had to do a bit of surgical work but you look better.”

“Ugh, I feel like shit,” Helen expressed her physical sentiment while the pop star brought the seat by her bedside and sat down. It was odd that she would take the time to accompany her given the arrangements with Princess Charlie, “Don’t you have a concert to prepare for?”

“I do but it never hurts to look out for acquaintances. I figured it was the decent thing for me to do.” Indeed it was and the teacher smiled at the act of goodness with an approving nod. Then she recalled her assistance when it came to dealing with Gerald.

“The company could be worse. Did you see if my ex-husband is dead?”

“No. Didn’t have the time to see,” She replied while crossing her legs and leaning back against the chair, “So that was the guy who left you? You would have thought he’d leave you alone.”

She shook her head, knowing full well that this feud was going to be substantial. “I killed him and brought him to Hell. He won’t forgive me for that.”

“Reminds me of my ex. I put my trust in that imp and he fucks me over. Never thought he’d waste something I thought was special.” Verosika remarked upon her memories with a faint smile before a somber expression took hold of her.

“It sounds like both of us would need therapists to deal with our pasts.” 

“I would gladly pay for that,” The succubus replied, laughing at the statement. It felt kinda nice getting to have someone to relate to ever since she fell to Hell. She pulled out a flask and unscrewed the top before drinking away while Mrs. Mayberry reached out before pulling her hand away, “You don’t want any?”

Helen stole a glance at the medical machines. “After. Maybe I’ll ask Husk when I get back to the Hotel.”

“After all of that bullshit earlier, I think you deserve a backstage pass. How does that sound?”

“Well, it’s summer and I am out of work,” There was surprisingly a lot of time she had available that wasn’t making up meals for Railtracer or helping Charlie with hotel management. What harm could there be in listening to songs of debauchery? “Sure.”

A loud commotion of surprised nurses and doctors began to shout outside the room. Verosika and Helen looked over to the door, concerned about what it entailed until they heard footsteps click against the marble floor, growing ever closer. Much to her surprise, her Russian friend stood in the doorway, carrying a white bag and a cup carrier with two drinks in styrofoam cups.

“Railtracer, you’ve paid me a visit! What’s all of this?”

Verosika stood up and brought him over to her bedside. Yet, she managed to get a kiss on his gas mask as the pop star switched seats with him. “I thought you were at work.”

“I was but passed by to some restaurant to get some food. Then I met one of your friends - Vortex and his girlfriend. They mentioned you two at a hospital and I came here instead.” He answered nonchalantly as he placed the bag on the floor and gave one of his drinks to the hospital patient.

“Oh, you got a chance to meet with Beelzebub?” She wondered before stealing the other drink and taking a quick sip, “What’s your thoughts on the embodiment of gluttony?”

“That’s what she was? I didn’t know.”

The girlfriend chuckled as she passed the drink back to him. Helen appreciated his company despite the apparent relationship he had with the succubus. She drank from the styrofoam cup and felt the mixture of ice cream and root beer run through her body. It was probably not a good idea while being attached to a machine but to Hell with medical concerns. “Not going to lie, it’s been a while since I had a root beer float. Glad that I’ve been treated.”

“So how long are you going to be in here?” He questioned.

“I don’t know, I got shot so there’s that to consider,” There was also the insurance and the follow-up bills that had to be processed, “Who knows?”

“Leave that to me. My dad hates it when I grease some hands but you’d be surprised how resilient sinners are compared to us Hellborn.” She assured the teacher before a loud commotion erupted outside the room.

“Huh? Must be a busy day to be a nurse.” Helen remarked as she watched events play in the hallway.

Two plague doctors ran past them carrying a cot containing a bird-like Hellborn in an elaborate dress. It was then followed up by a familiar sight of a imp whose services she acquired just after her death.

“Wait a minute, is that who I think it is?”

Railtracer and Verosika turned their heads and looked at each other. Although the former’s face was encased behind a gas mask, the latter displayed a pale look as if they saw a ghost. The succubus spoke up and commented on the momentary glimpse. “What’s Blitzo doing here and why is he chasing an Ars Goetia?”

The Russian stood up and handed the drink to his girlfriend as he began to march towards the door.

“What’s wrong?” Helen could feel the mysterious atmosphere as he stood in the doorway and looked back at them, “Do you know anything?”

He nodded his head. “My boss was supposed to be on a date with Stolas. Something has gone wrong if they’re here.”

The ruler of the dark realm entered his living room and strode to the couch directed towards a television screen. He had been exhausted ever since his meeting with Paimon on the matters of the possessors. Politics demand that he exterminate them but their liability was also a massive strength when it came to accounting for Heaven’s possible invasion landings. Such was the price of being the monarch of Hell.

He crashed onto the seat and leaned back against the soft confines as he rested his apple cane on the armrest. Lucifer smiled as he savored the relaxing moment until he heard the soft footsteps of his succubus queen approach from behind. The innate abilities of an archangel’s senses were incredibly supernatural to both Hellborn and Heavenborn alike but instead of turning around and acknowledging Lilith’s presence, he entertained the woman’s chance to surprise him.

She reached over his head before her hands gradually slid to his shoulders massaging them. The pleasure of release from the tension and stress was euphoric. He groaned before grabbing his wife’s hand and kissing it with a small touch. “Thank you.”

“You spent the night with your advisors. It must have been important,” The woman remarked before jumping over and sitting atop his lap while her lithe pale legs were spread. Had it not been for the black thigh skirt, much more skin would have risen the king’s lust for her beauty, “Are you off?”

“It should be known by now that I can do whatever I please with my time. Though, I’ll always have time for you, my dear.” He let out a chuckle as Lilith grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close to taste those black lips of hers.

Nothing was held back as one hand was wrapped behind her back and the other behind the succubus’ head. Yet, she too was not idle as her fingers methodically unravel every part of his apparel with graceful precision. His clothing was too good to be ripped up for what may result in sex. The atmosphere of romance and lust was then interrupted when they heard his phone ring from underneath his jacket. Few in Hell knew the consequences of calling him when he was at his residence and the following ire would be great and terrible should he be notified of the individual responsible.

“Of all the damn times, why now?! Don’t they know I don’t like to be disturbed?”

Lucifer broke away from his kissing as he reached for his phone and pulled the device out in between himself and his wife. They saw the screen flicker, the caller ID revealing that it was none other than Azrael. Lilith rose from his lap and stood, straightening out her dress and readjusting the unkempt blonde hair. “What exactly does he want right now?”

“You know as much as I do,” The devil leaned forward and accepted the call before placing the phone to his ear, “My displeasure is immense, brother.”

The Archangel of Death was quick to speak. “My terrible apologies then but I do have a request.”

“Be quick about it. My wife and I were enjoying our time before your interruption.” He drove his point home about how much time was wasted on this conversation of theirs.

“Do you remember the redeemed investigator who is assigned to the Hazbin Hotel?” The Grim Reaper asked as the ruler of Hell heard him out. Meanwhile, Lilith sat beside him and listened in on the conversation, “As of right now, he holds an angelic weapon in his inventory. Artyom probably knows more about sword fighting than a monkey about ballistic missiles.”

“So you want me to teach him? Why me of all people? Isn’t there someone in Heaven who could perform this errand for you?”

“It’s not so simple. My investigator’s placement is too important for Charlie’s sake, you and I both know that. Yet, the situation from my end looks terrible as those who want to see your destruction have compromised the ranks of the Holy Army. Michael is still undergoing reorganization but any trainer I choose is an incredible risk of an intelligence leak or worse, defection.” This was news to him and as much as he would like to proclaim that it was his brother’s problem, his daughter’s life was on the line. So it was to his benefit to help Death until this matter is resolved.

Now was the time to speak and decide based on the information that had been conveyed to him. “I see. How will this be arranged since my time will be spent on one of yours?”

“The Department of Purgatory will provide a weekly schedule ahead of time so that it wouldn’t interfere with either’s duties. In the meantime, I will requisition a detachment of Gendarmes to guard your daughter’s hotel in Artyom’s absence as a form of security. Does that suffice?”

“Couldn’t you pass this weapon onto someone else?” Why was this an issue for Azrael of all times? “Don’t you have someone capable to take the weapon out of the man’s hand?”

He heard a sigh from the other side of the speakers. “It’s a service weapon, so that means it chose him to wield it. Unless someone kills him and it attaches itself to another soul, he’s stuck with the blade.”

“Then I suppose this conversation is over. Goodbye, Azrael.” The future was going to be an interesting time for him.

“Likewise, Lucifer.”

The call ended as the married couple took a moment to sample this talk. It had been a long time since he had drawn his sword and the last time was when he struck his brothers with killing blows in his wife’s defense. Old memories pained him, knowing full well that the blood of his brothers stained his hands. Now he would seek out those martial skills once again to help someone slay in the same manner as himself.

Time passed in the hospital’s inner courtyard as Verosika waited for her sinner acquaintance to immediately recover. All the money in the world was enough to entice nurses and doctors to prioritize the woman’s health while the succubus sat on a bench and contemplated her situation. It would be several hours before the concert and her backstage team would want the girl ready to meet the glory of the spotlight and the love of the crowd. Princess Charlie would certainly enjoy the attention and it would be extra bucks in her pocket.

Soon the fear of not meeting everyone’s expectations took hold of her. What would they think if she showed up late? Such was the life of being a popstar and although she had her friends to confide herself with, they knew much about her inner feelings as much as she told them. The succubus reached into her purse and pulled out a flask, unscrewing the top, and drank the sizzling brew only Beezlebub would share with her friends. Relaxing energy coursed throughout the body while the inhibitions were let loose.

The sound of doors sliding open occurred to her left as she turned to find Railtracer stepping outside and walking across the concrete sidewalks. Meanwhile, the sinner’s hands rested inside the pockets of his pants as seeing him brought curiosity from within. When he left to check on Blitzo and Stolas, she saw her ex-boyfriend trying to get inside the room but was told to leave the premises. Yet, the guards were willing to go so far as to throw him out the window. As much as she hated him, it wasn’t enough to destroy the life he had with someone else. That all changed when she caught a glimpse of a badge from the Russian’s pockets.

Verosika grew suspicious of him since then and wondered what secrets he held for someone who could influence the honor guards of the Ars Goetia. There was a possibility that she lucked out on a possible secret agent pulling bullshit on someone or it could be genuine. The question was what should she do about it? Leave him out of fearful possibility or seek out the truth that may break the bonds of this relationship? Her step-father never did teach her how to handle these subjects but then again, it was an ancient war machine from the War in Heaven.

Her boyfriend joined her on the bench and sat beside her while she drank her thoughts away. “The doctors say it’s going to take fifteen minutes, estimated time.”

“Well, here’s hoping it’s less than that,” Remarked the succubus before taking another sip from her silver flask and leaning against his shoulder, “Got a concert to go to.”

“You’re not going to sing well with all of this drinking. Mind as well quit while you can.” He commented but she was not someone who liked to be discouraged from the very liquor that fueled her talents.

“Easy for someone who doesn’t understand the stress I’m going through.”

Railtracer grabbed her hand and she reciprocated the gesture by holding his. Maybe she was overreacting to his response and just needed an excuse to lash out. “I didn’t mean it like that. Just being concerned that’s all. I’m Russian but even I know there’s a time to drink.”

“Fine, I’ll stop drinking,” Perhaps he had a point in this conversation. Even Blitzo was well aware of her drinking problem before they broke up. She hated to admit it but Verosika considered it the greatest evidence to returning to rehab. Then part of her thought about that badge and an idea was realized to convince the sinner to reveal his secrets. “So long as you tell me about that thing you did with Blitzo.”

“That? I suppose I should be upfront with you.” Finally, some sweet truth to be heard as she looked up at the man’s face locked away behind his gas mask. The mystery was to be answered as his gaze trailed up at the sky.

“Explain away.”

He took a deep breath and stared into her soul. Was he being honest with her? “Blitz doesn’t know this but I work for Lucifer.”

“Wait, what?” That was an eye-opener. She expected many qualities from his background but working directly for the ruler of Hell was not one of them. There were tales that the succubus heard about former mortals working in his service; yet, it was not enough to prepare the woman for this moment, “You’re one of his secret agents.”

“Something like that. I was assigned to act as a secret bodyguard for Princess Charlie, even though she does not know about my background as well. No one at the Hotel does. My placement all started after Blitz and one of his employees were captured by demon hunters and I broke the cardinal rule about leaving Hell.” The explanation of events did little to ease her shock. Had she known of this, her initial impressions of the man would have been different but the fact that he kept this under wraps indicated the Russian’s larger-than-life persona. Soon the mental imagery of the films about undercover agents sleeping with beautiful women came to mind. Only that it was subverted by a quiet man not willing to seek out attention.

“That’s amazing. You got something going for you. I’d like to ask more but don’t know if you’re even allowed to tell me at all with all of the hush-hush about being a secret agent.”

Railtracer laughed as he placed his arm around her shoulders. “It’s fine. So long as the questions are basic, there is no trouble in-between us.”

“Great!” Hearing that was relieving news as she looked at her flask and pondered about taking another sip. Her body cried out for a way to ‘loosen’ everything; yet, she realized the promise she made with the sinner. Without hesitation, Verosika began to close the lid of the Beelzebub juice shut as the fears of the concert drew close, “Will you be coming to the concert?”

“Why do you ask?” She could either refuse to answer or explain everything.

“It would help if you did come along.”

He raised the gasmask from his face and revealed the skull surrounded in blue flames. “Of course.”

They were interrupted when a goat Hellborn walked over to them with a clipboard in hand. He was half their height but the additional hairs underneath his chin revealed the man’s age as his hooves tapped against the ground. “Ms. Mayday, I have come to give my report to you.”

What news did he have for them? “Make it quick, I’m on a timer.”

“The sinner Mrs. Mayberry is all fine and dandy. She’ll have to take some pain medication but we recommend no strenuous activity in the meantime,” He answered as he presented the paper on the clipboard and pulled out a pen from the breast pocket of his white coat, “Please sign here that you’ll be taking care of her from now on.”

Verosika accepted the items and quickly wrote her name on the bottom line beside the large ‘X’ mark. Once she was finished, they were handed back to the old doctor and he left with a smile on his face.

“She will be out shortly.”

“So that’s it,” Her boyfriend remarked before standing up and reaching out to the succubus. She took his hand as he gently pulled the woman up from the bench as a gentleman would with his lady, “I take it that we’re going to the concert next?”

The pop star acknowledged his question with a nod of her head. He presented his arm and she reciprocated him by wrapping around it with hers. They walked back into the building as a couple would.

Charlie was eager to see the concert for her own very eyes but the princess made her own preparations. She would join Ms. Mayday on the stage to hopefully proclaim the working relationship to attract new sinners to stay inside. There was a chance for the evening to turn her into a laughing stock, just like the interview with Katie Killjoy. Despite all of that risk, the arrival of the cherub was a chance to prove them wrong and show the entirety of Hell that there was a chance for the sinners to be given redemption after all.

Everyone assembled in the living room on the first floor and began to look presentable to the public. Even the two humans who were accidentally brought to the dark realm had their clothes shift from their work uniforms to their newly-acquired clothes. Alastor was willing to offer Agent One his wardrobe and Vaggie gave Agent Two a red velvet dress with influences from Central America. The royal stood in the hallway and smiled at the present company with Angel Dust eager to display his effeminate side, Husk begrudgingly wearing a butler suit, and Nifty almost appearing like a living doll. The only exception to this was Mrs. Mayberry and Railtracer as the succubus popstar had informed her that they were returning from a visit to the hospital.

All was well.

Collin floated beside her as his hooves tapped close together. Unlike the others, he seemed to express uncertainty and fear about the potential. It seemed wrong for her to let him continue like this before they would meet the adoring crowd outside. She turned to him and asked. “What’s wrong? You don’t look too well.”

“I-I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go out there,” The stuttering in his voice was telling but Charlie had her ways to alleviate his worries. Then he continued, quivering in both body and tone, “It feels like I’m b-being watched.”

Angel Dust overheard their conversation and commented. “Who could be watching you right now?! We’re at the Hazbin Hotel. There’s no one here to bother us except well, us.”

“You don’t get it. I’m a cherub, we can sense when a heavenly feeling is nearby and someone knows I’m here.” That was certainly perplexing as they were about to leave. Surely it was just a bad vibe someone gets when they’re living in Hell, right?

Out from the hallway was the clinking of metal and boots thumping against the carpet floor. The timing of this unfamiliar sound was impeccable as a strange feeling invited goosebumps across her body. It was a fateful moment when she stole a glance from the hotel’s residents, both standing or sitting, had their eyes focused, and directed towards someone approaching the room from the hallway. The angelic creature turned his head to see someone outside of her view and gasp with absolute terror on his face before flying around her, keeping the princess in between Collin and the newcomer.

Charlie turned around to see a lone figure standing in the doorway. His clothes consisted of Khaki pants and a brown long brown trench coat covering the black chest armor wrapped with an ammo belt over his torso. Meanwhile, the man’s head was encased in a metal helmet with red glowing eyes to emphasize an intimidating appearance. His waistline revealed two revolvers resting in their holsters while the stranger’s hands were dug into the pockets of his coat. A small silence grew between the hotel’s denizens and this man before a radio crackled and his voice emanated from the helmet’s speakers. “Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Nice to see that I’ve taken you by complete surprise.”

“Who are you?” She asked of him as his head twitched and looked directly at her. There was something wrong about this but the princess couldn’t put her finger on it. All that was absolute was uncertainty, “How did you get in my home without my permission?”

“Who I am is not important. What I am here; however, is.” He answered politely as his breaths were released from the in-built rebreathers, “If it helps, you can call me Tony.”

“It’s you.”

Collin’s recognition of the man did little to unease the situation as she could not tell if he was there for malicious reasons.

The man chuckled before retracting his hands out from his pockets and folding his arms across his chest. “Must be a big deal if you’re down here.”

“It is. I would have extracted you through a normal process but you spilled some information to her highness and I have to clean up a security leak.” The cherub gulped loud enough for Charlie to hear him.

Vaggie chimed in from behind. “If you kill him, you won’t walk out of this building alive.”

“There is no doubt about that attempt but I’m not here to kill the poor guy. Believe me, Vagatha Veracruz, there’s another euphemism for that.”

“How do you know my last name?” She answered in a venomous manner as Princess Charlie looked over her shoulder to see the surprise on her girlfriend’s face. The others looked at her before exchanging glances at the man who identified her mortal identity, “No one knows that.”

He let out a chuckle as the attention returned back on him. “I work for the Department of Purgatory, there is not a soul in Heaven or Hell whose name doesn’t appear across our desks. If you think I’m joking, then perhaps I can list off your real identities. Alastor Broussard, the serial murderer by night and a radio entertainer by day. Anthony Giovanni, the closeted homosexual who kills and intimidates poor storeowners for the mob. Jaime Huster, a gambler who spent all of his hard-won earnings on drinking. Lisa Quinn, a young woman who bullied outcasts for not adhering to the social norm for suicide.”

The atmosphere of the tense situation changed as the Radio Demon growled in static. Portals appeared with black tendrils slipping out of reality, reaching out for the stranger who seemed to know too much about the very people she cared for. “You know too much. Well, it seems like another tally to my count.”

“Gendarmes!” A brief flash of light appeared behind Tony as four masked men clad in modern-day body armor, helmets, and military uniforms. They raised their assault rifles in C-clamps as red lasers shined upon the tentacles and fired. White tracers rippled through the air as the portals closed. The gunfire ceased as she turned to find Alastor stumbling onto one knee holding himself up thanks to a mere microphone stand, “You’re not the first overlord I’ve put down and you won’t be the last. Consider yourself lucky that I’m not here for you.”

“Are you alright?!” The princess cried out as the princess ran to his side and helped him up. A closer look at his face revealed sweat trickling across the temple while he breathed heavily.

“He’ll be alright. It’s just a couple of inferno rounds.” Commented the representative of the Department of Purgatory. She turned to see him still standing still as if the terrifying power that tried to lash out at him didn’t happen.

“What the fuck are you here for then?”

“The two humans and the cherub. They are coming with us. After all, the two D.H.O.R.K.S. agents made a deal with us about the transfer in the first place.”

“Am I allowed back to C.H.E.R.U.B?” Collin asked as he floated towards the masked human, “What of my friends?”

His head turned towards the Heavenborn. “You’re still exiled but they had no authority to leave your ass behind. That’s why I am here.”

This conversation only demanded questions for Charlie as she stood up and walked up to him. “Is that all there is? You’re just here for them?”

“Pretty much,” Soon he shifted the subject over to the two humans, “Agent One, Agent Two, you’re both in deep shit as is. Mind as well get you out as well.”

No words were spoken as the daughter of Lucifer watched them walk over to the five strangers who interrupted their day and fought for a brief second. It was a surreal experience to see the authority of Heaven operate in an… unnatural way. Then Tony gestured his hand for his subordinates to lower their weapons before staring at her.

“This is important and I need you to listen to me on this one issue. This encounter never happened, I never spoke to you, and Alastor was never shot.” This request was a strange one and all it did was invite questions.

“Why though?” The hotel had endured an uneventful history and now an organization from Heaven just appeared and arrived without even giving her a second glance as if she was there. Why go through the effort to even try up until now? “You think I’m going to forget what just happened here? All of you barged into this place as if you own it.”

“If you want answers, ask your father. Everything will make sense in due time.”

He snapped his fingers in the air.

“Scotty, beam us up.”

Another white flash appeared but as the light dissipated the visitors were no longer there. This Department of Purgatory entered their lives in Hell and expected them to ignore their presence. Yet, she thought about the man’s advice to seek out knowledge from her father. Now she was not in the mood to go to the concert but to gather her thoughts.

Husk managed to scrounge up a remark after clearing his throat. “Honestly, I’m going to get a drink after this. Too much shit in so little time.”

The trio immediately returned to the front of the Hazbin Hotel but Artyom didn’t anticipate the crowd standing in his way. From the moment they recognized Verosika’s face, it wasn’t long until they crowded around the vehicle and attempted to get her full attention. Fans cheered for her or asked for an autograph but there were others who wanted answers. They asked why she was hitching a ride with two complete strangers or photographers flashing their cameras to get the latest image. Yet, he maintained his composure while carefully driving through the crowd.

He looked over his shoulder to find his girlfriend sitting in the back. She grimaced at each flash and flinched away from the window when someone slammed a picture of her in a bikini. The uncomfortable look made him understand the social pressures of her station, one he was all too acquainted with when he stepped into the meeting with the representatives of the Moscow Metro over the matter of D6. It all came to an end when two dozen security Hellhound guards began to clear a path from the surrounded car with bustling muscles underneath black shirts. Two of them helped guide the vehicle into a makeshift compound set behind a stage as the Russian stole a glimpse from a mirror to find them gated off from the others.

Soon the vehicle was parked he looked to his right to see Mrs. Mayberry let out a deep breath and his girlfriend adjusting her hair. They seemed to be relieved but then the succubus unlocked the door. “It’s time.”

It didn’t take long for the disguised redeemed to leave the car as he walked over to the other side of the vehicle and helped the wounded teacher rise from the chair. Meanwhile, an imp in a shirt labeled ‘technician’ walked over to her from behind while wearing a headset. “Miss Mayday, you got thirty minutes to get dressed up before the show starts.”

“I know. Just give me a moment,” The Hellborn immediately ran off as she walked over to the Russian and Mayberry, “You know, we all have all the time in the world to unwind after this is over.”

The teacher scoffed at the statement. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Let me demonstrate.” She reached out for her chin and pulled the woman close for a kiss. Artyom had heard enthralling stories of men witnessing such moments but to be right next to such a scene made his eyes widen with shock at her act. Then Verosika broke contact and pecked his gas mask with her lips before taking a step back with a mischievous smile.

“Y-You kissed me?!” Mayberry was taken aback when he stole a glimpse from the sinner to find her pink cheeks blushing out of embarrassment. Her head shook as disbelief took over, “I don’t even swing that way.”

“A night with me and I’ll be sure to change that. Besides, you owe me for patching you up.”

The teacher displayed her displeasure with a growl before the comical atmosphere was cut short when the trio heard a whistle in the air; yet, the wind did not howl. Artyom’s instincts looked up as a blue and yellow blur jumped from rooftop to rooftop in swift motion in under a minute. His eyes could barely react to the movement when the strange arrival jumped above them and descended to the ground. “Chyort!”

He was very much surprised when his girlfriend spoke up. “Don’t worry, it’s my dad. He’s coming to visit.”

Soon the former Polis Ranger’s eyes caught a glimpse of the figure from the moment it gracefully landed on the pavement. A blue humanoid robot stood before him with an identity labeled ‘V1’ etched on the front of its chest. It was a surreal experience to see the succubus’ guardian with golden wings attached to the back as if it was mimicking the angelic imagery in its own mechanical fashion. Then its head moved and revealed a golden orb that was its eye as the machine walked over to the trio with a stride so precise. A computerized voice began to emanate from hidden speakers. “Darling!”

“It’s good to see you dad,” She then walked over to the non-living entity and hugged it’s frame. Much to his surprise the arms wrapped around her and rubbed her back, “I like to introduce an acquaintance of mine and my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” They broke their embrace as she spun around and let the robot analyze the sinner and the disguised agent of Heaven, “Who are they?”

“The woman is Helen Mayberry, she lives at the Hazbin Hotel. This man I’m dating is Railtracer. He’s a sinner who currently works for my ex.” She explained as the machine brought its hand to the head as if it was combing a beard.

“Interesting.” It didn’t need to elaborate but the longer its gaze looked at him, a cold chill ran down his spine. Everything about it was unnatural and he knew not why.

“Well, I’m off to get changed. I have a concert to start soon.”

“Let me help you. God knows I need to do something after being in the hospital.” Helen stated as she followed the succubus towards a changing area. The only people left were him and the machine. He was certain that the evening was going to be uneasy with that look on its face.

Chapter Text

The conscious mind of a disguised redeemed had awoken from his slumber. Artyom tried to sit upright in his bed; however, his chest felt heavy and he looked down to find two beautiful women snuggling at his side. They all shared the comfort of the blanket and sheets as he rekindled his thoughts from last night.

Verosika immediately dragged him and Mrs. Mayberry into his room, after the concert, just to have her way with them. He smiled at what the pleasures of the flesh could bring since it was genuine fun between the trio. Yet, it gave him a glimpse at the passionate feelings the teacher had for him. These two women shared feelings for him - one so open and upfront while the other seemed to repress her heart’s desires until that moment. How was he going to divide his attention between two people that he shared intimate relations with? Sooner or later, an ultimatum would be unleashed and he would have to sacrifice the other. Despite it all, the Russian considered pursuing both, hoping to make their love last as much as they could.

His throat was dry and it was high time that he quenched its thirst. Here, he carefully brought their arms off his chest and laid them on the bedsheets. Then the former Polis Ranger slipped out of bed and sought for his pants and horizontally blue-striped undershirt, quietly wearing the bare minimum until his belt was tightened around the waist. He turned back to find the women alone in their slumber before his hand pulled the covers over their shoulders, wishing their dreams a good outcome.

Artyom left them in silence as he walked out of his hotel room and strolled through the hallways with broad shoulders and a straightened back. It wasn’t like him to take pride in being so casual among his friends but maybe it was the sex that gave him this newfound confidence. Then the elevator was located and the Purgatory investigator descended the shaft while his feet pressed against the hard surface of the marble floor. Perhaps he shouldn’t have left without his boots? Nonetheless, he pressed forward upon reaching the main floor as he made his way to the lobby to find it nearly abandoned save for two sinners around the bar.

Husk stood behind the bar and cleaned his glasses with a rag while the Radio Demon sat on a stool stand, hunched over the counter, sipping his shots in silence. His gaze held contempt for the overlord before catching the approach of another looking for his water hole. “Morning, Railtracer. It seems like you had the time of your life. What’s it like having a threesome with two babes?”

The question was one he was embarrassed to answer before taking his seat beside Alastor. “I’m not sure you want to know the details.”

“Don’t bullshit me, rusky! You three were loud enough that no one slept ‘till midnight.” He shouted, almost accusing him of the sins of lust.

“Gentlemen, now is not the time to yell.” The Russian turned in his chair to see the powerful sinner grimace and groan before taking another sip from his whiskey. “Early is the hour before our lives begin.”

It was weird to see him so exposed and vulnerable like this. Normally, he had some form of high-class composure, but not this one time. “What happened to you?”

He stole a glance from him. “It is quite simple. I got shot. Dangerous I am but invincible I am not. Someone got the better of me and rarely do they live past the initial encounter. Perhaps I may ask you to pay the infractor a visit in the same manner when you came to Angel’s aid.”

“The Radio Demon asking for a favor?” Husk clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“Don’t tell our effeminate fellow. I wouldn’t hear the last of it from him.”

Artyom could not help himself but let out a chuckle. What could be more humorous than seeing the strongest at their weakest and seeing them in different circumstances of life? Despite the offer, he held reservations given his service to the Department of Purgatory. “I will hold you to that when the time comes. Hopefully, it won’t happen.” His parched throat reminded him of his reason to be here before looking to the bartender for the one flavor that defined him. “Vodka, please?”

“On the double.” Acknowledged the winged cat as he turned around and reached for a clear bottle hiding behind an array of various flavors of alcoholic beverages. Then he poured the drink into the glass he was cleaning earlier.

The front door to the Hazbin Hotel was opened before it was followed by the sounds of metal and machinery echoing from the hallway behind. Light footsteps tapped against the wooden floorboards as the arrival approached, making its way to the bar without masking its movements. They were paid a visit and the overlord raised his head while a low inhuman growl emanated from within his voice. “Let’s see who is the brave soul to have interrupted our little meeting.”

Husk turned around to the bar before he was taken aback by a sight behind the disguised saved. “Holy shit!” His terror took over, dropping a half-full glass to the ground, shattering across the floor.

He and Alastor turned around to face the unknown; however, the blue machine that he encountered last night stood before them. It’s golden ‘wings’ retracted behind the back, tilting the lens of the camera that constituted it’s head. A robotic tone echoed from it’s speakers as V1 addressed them. “Does this establishment offer blood?”

“Uh, no.” The bartender replied before yelping in pain while the glass shards crackled underneath his weight. He placed the bottle behind Artyom before he stepped out from behind his station. “I’m going to get Nifty to clean all this shit up while I get the damned glass out of my legs.”

Soon, he walked past the machine without a care in the world. Yet, the presence of Verosika’s father conveyed an uncomfortable atmosphere within the lobby room. “A war machine designed for the War in Heaven makes for poor company.” Commented the Radio Demon as he grabbed his glass and took one long gulp of its contents until it was empty. Then a portal appeared out of thin air with a black tendril reaching out to snatch it from his hand before gently placing it on the counter. “Well, I’ll be off soon. I’ve got errands with acquaintances of mine. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Alastor made his way for the front door with his speaker stand in hand but as he stopped upon passing the machine. Both exchanged a long look at each other before he continued, leaving the creature of steel alone with him.

It approached him while reaching behind and brandishing a gold coin, tossing the currency upwards and catching it mid-air. “My daughter has taken a liking to you. Probabilities dictate that you are a massive improvement over the imp assassin.” Was it referring to his boss?

“You’re talking about Blitz, aren’t you?” He replied, hinting at the subject matter.

“He broke her heart and my operational efficiency was reduced in order to readjust to her emotions.” V1 plainly answered as it caught the gold coin one last time. “Will you do the same to her… investigator.”

Artyom froze in place and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Was his identity compromised now? Would he have the opportunity to convince Verosika’s stepfather not to rat him out inside the hotel? Much was at stake here; especially, when it came to the safety of his soul being in the same room as a war machine that may surpass his own combat skills.

“So you’re another one of Azrael’s agents? Data event analysis indicates a high-priority operation for the Department of Purgatory to be this close to Lucifer’s daughter.”

There was no point in hiding the truth when it was so apparent. Yet, despite his masquerade failing at this critical moment in time, he raised his finger before his lips to gesture the machine to be quieter. “Lower your voice.”

“My sound sensors do not indicate observable souls within sufficient range to hear this conversation. Your identity is only aware with this unit alone.” The machine replied while the Russian turned around and snatched the bottle of vodka off the counter. If he was being watched, his superiors would definitely reprimand him for being so open with this robot.

“So,” He chugged the clear liquid into his mouth as his throat burned and his body lost a bit of his control before he pulled it away from his lips, “What becomes of this situation now that you know what I am?”

It opened its palm and reached out to him while revealing the gold coin that was being carried. “A matter of personal diplomacy. Do you love her or is this some kind of ruse that you are using on behalf of the Archangel of Death?”

His back leaned against the bar and contemplated the relationship. In the aftermath of his marriage with Anna, he minded his own business and remained distant from the others unless it was like Uhlman, Pavel, or Tony. It was complicated, to say the least, but someone like Verosika and now Helen were new additions to an equation he didn’t put a lot of thought into. Despite their place being in Hell, Artyom appreciated them a in close intimate manner. “I love her if it gives you any comfort.”

“Response is satisfactory. I approve of my daughter’s relations with someone like yourself.”

“They said you were a weapon for the War in Heaven.” He referred to the remarks of Alastor upon the machine, which had incited morbid curiosity from the Russian about its origins. How could he learn more about the robot that served as his girlfriend’s father? “What’s something like you doing with the likes of the sinners and Hellborn down here?”

“It was a different time. Tensions between Heaven and Hell ran high with armies of angels and demons being killed in droves, fate hanging by the Fallen Archangel winning against his brothers in duels. Created in the Garden of Eden, my programming informed me I was to kill the Hellborn in droves through cold and ruthless efficiency that could not be achieved by previous data.” V1 then walked up and stood by the bar staring past the disguised saved it had identified long before ever knew.

“That’s a lot of information to take in.”

“You are the first person to ever ask this query.” The machine answered in its synthetic tone. “My existence is one that this unit must come to grips with as time passes on. As the chronometer continues, my sensors for the fate of the denizens of Hell leave me with non-physical damage.”

There was something more to V1 than he had initially anticipated and existing beside it, only raised concerns for his well-being. It was a creation beyond anything witnessed from the likes of the afterlife. “Sounds like you have a lot on your plate that I didn’t give you credit for. Must be Hell in its own right if a robot has the feelings of fear.”

“You have no idea. Ever since I broke out and descended to this place, my programming protocols have left me instructions to kill everything for a time when Hell is full.”

“Then it must be hard when it comes to Verosika,” To see such emotional vulnerability from a machine among many sights in his life was one his mortal existence wouldn’t have considered. In some strange irony, it merely reminded him of the time when he cared and looked out for the little Dark One when he sought some measure of redemption for his soul. “You’ve probably conducted yourself a lot better with your daughter than I could ever do. So you have something going for you.”

“Perhaps. I do not know what mission you have been tasked with to be here. What is certain is that your fate is not a mere coincidence given your small birthright a few humans are ever fortunate to have. My social encounter with you has been noted within my database. We will see how you’ll perform after my core has been replenished with someone’s innards.” Such a statement merely caused Artyom confusion as it turned away and slid out of the room. V1 managed to click a memory of his past when Khan first met him, speaking in riddles and intentions so mysterious until they were finally realized. If this was a sign of things to come, how would he react to the given situation?

His phone rumbled in his pocket and he reached inside his clothes to seek out the caller. The flat screen was quick to inform him that it was none other than Hunter, containing a profile picture of a red-skinned man mimicking the ancient propaganda posters of a Soviet Union before the bombs came to be. He was elated to see this old family friend of his again if he went out of the way to reach for him. Upon accepting the active call, the Russian greeted him. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I just got off of work. Wasn’t sure if you were too busy but I was wondering if you’d want to hang out at this park I’m going to.” Spoken with a joyous mood. “It’s been years since we properly exchanged decent stories.”

“I’ve got time. Give me the coordinates.” He would set his schedule up with an old family friend of his. Now that they were properly dead, Artyom would find some measure of closure with that chapter of his life before his damnation at Ostankino tower.

Two imps had spent the better part of their night trying to hunt down their patron’s assassin. Prince Stolas was too important for the business of assassinating humans but more so for their boss. When Moxxie saw Blitz’s reaction to his boyfriend’s wounds, it was a scene that demanded that he intervene. He’s an asshole but he was his asshole while the duo leaped roof to roof tracking their prince killer across Imp City.

Striker was ahead of them leaping from one ledge to another. Agile as he was, the married couple kept pace. In their pursuit, both parties exchanged inaccurate gunfire but there was no intention to hit him. Rather, the point was to force him into cover or slow him down so they could catch up. Not a bad plan indeed if they haven’t been going like this since the chase began.

A half-built apartment building under construction lay ahead of them while the Hellborn rushed forward and jumped ahead. The husband quickly peered over the edge, only to see his target on an ascending construction crane, firing a revolver in his direction. As the bullets whistled past his head with the imp ducking for his own sake, his wife called him from behind. “Throw me!”

“What?” He wondered, absolutely confused as turned around to find his beloved carrying her battle axe and grabbed his hands.

“Spin me around and throw me.”

The assassin didn’t know what she had in store for him; yet, he complied without hesitation. Holstering his sidearm, he began to plant one foot in the concrete while the other acted as a pivot, pushing the momentum even further with each kick. His head tried to make sense of his surroundings, only to find the world in a blur save for Millie’s eager laughing gaining his full attention.

“Let go!” The timing was perfect as Moxxie released his hold on her hands and threw the crazed berserker into the air. “You’re not getting away.”

Once he let her go, his stomach growled and a burning sensation grew from within his lungs. He puked over the side of the building, watching as his guts hurled his insides out and landed upon some unfortunate passerby below. His mind calmed down before looking ahead and saw his wife descend upon an arrogant bastard with an overhead swing. “That’s my girl.”

The two fought in a fierce and destructive duel among the construction crane. Steel clashed with the Hellborn’s tail while parts of the structure were scratched and chipped away. The user swung back and forth in his control room, attempting to thwart the intruders from his work. Despite the distance, he brandished his pistol and knelt. He leaned forward, covering his knee with his arm while resting the barrel upon his wrist to stabilize the shot of a weapon not meant for this range.

The target pushed his wife back and quickly brandished a lever-action rifle from his coat. He might not hit him but he prayed that he would. With slow and methodical shots, 9mm flew across the street and peppered his concentration. Striker let out his shot, much to Moxxie’s horror before the round missed Millie's lithe frame. Then the control room for the construction crane splattered with blood with the arm swiftly turning clockwise towards him.

Brick and glass shattered as the building’s structural integrity took the full brunt of the impact. Nonetheless, it connected the imp to the fight as he descended from above and landed gracefully. He closed the distance while loading a new magazine for his pistol and watching his soulmate retrieve her two-headed weapon and swing at the disoriented assassin.

Striker ducked from the blade by mere inches as he performed a low kick and knocked her back. The imp did not hesitate to draw his pistol and fire on him; yet, his target’s reflexes were faster. He had quickly spun around and drew a revolver from his belt, firing with swiftness and accuracy. Now that his weapon was gone, Moxxie found himself at his rival’s mercy.

“You little shits should have stopped while you had the chance.” He remarked before closing the distance and a deathly grip wrapped around the imp’s throat. As he gasped for air, his eyes looked up at the cowboy’s sadistic expression while being dragged away from his unconscious wife. “I’m going to end this little song and dance between us. Still got a job to finish but maybe I’ll give your boss a message starting with you.”

His tail snaked around from behind and made a quick stab at the chest. It was painful to have an open wound. Moxxie attempted some form of resistance, trying to pry his captor’s clutches off of him but to no avail. A burst of triumphant laughter emanated from the Hellborn before his arm lifted upwards and threw him towards the building where the crane’s tip had smashed into a room. Briefly freed, the frail creature braced for the impact before his body found itself smashed through a glass window. Meanwhile, he was tossed across the floor with cuts and bruises being taken over.

The pain ached while his hand covered his bleeding wound with a whimpering cry. It shouldn’t have hurt this bad but he couldn’t afford to hold back his emotions. Yet, the structural integrity of the crane and the building groaned with the smashed end descending below a level. The additional destruction didn’t matter to him before the sound of moved rubble grabbed his attention, causing him to sit upright to face his fate.

He was taken by complete surprise when Millie flew in through the very same window he went through. This time, gunfire echoed from outside while her battle axe rested atop her shoulders. When she saw his current state, she gasped with horror before rushing to his side and him granting his beloved a smile. “You’re hurt! We have to stop the chase and get you to a hospital.”

“What about Striker? He shot Prince Stolas and I did mean to help Blitz with that.” Moxxie replied, reminding her about the relationship they had with their company boss and patron.

“Not like this. There’s always a next time.” She stated as her hand cupped his cheek with a warm smile. Then the sound of footsteps tapping against the metal came closer. “He’s coming. We’ll have to hide somewhere.”

Millie’s left arm was wrapped around her weapon’s shaft before both hands pulled the husband off the blue carpet floor littered with glass and splatters of blood. This strength was not one he expected but he was not one to complain as she rushed out of the room and navigated through the hallways. As he was carried in her arms, she took him into an elevator and descended towards the main floor. It was not like them to fail Blitzo but maybe if their luck turned for the better, they could continue. What was certain was the disappointment that he couldn’t perform his end of the promise.

The building shook, likely from the destruction from their havoc. Nonetheless, they had to get out if the foundations collapsed and took the married couple down with them. As the elevator decelerated and gravity pushed against their bodies, they heard some loud clattering of metal reverberate from above. Then something broke bringing them downward in a complete rush.

“Hang on!” His wife screamed while using her free hand to take hold of the railings close to them.

A loud slam knocked them up into the air before the lights flickered out and the sliding doors busted open. After they landed on the marble, Millie carried him out and entered their destination. Moxxie thanked his lucky stars that this wasn’t the end of them, yet.

They found themselves standing in the apartment basement as lights flickered and clouds of kicked-up dust began to settle. What was before them seemed impossible.

Various furniture littered the room from tables containing an organized array of firearms to planning boards containing dozens upon dozens of pinned paperwork. It wouldn’t have been out of place in the dark realm if it wasn’t for the occupants themselves. Here, humans were found in the least likely place that he could imagine and have subverted his expectations. What exactly were they doing down here?

One of the men turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “Shit, we’ve been spotted!”

They didn’t get a chance to react when two darts landed on the couple. Moxxie pulled out the dart that landed on his arm. A strange sensation began to weaken his control over his body while his wife stumbled to the ground and her weapon clattered onto the ground. “Millie? Millie!” He reached for the beloved and turned the imp on her side, only to find a dart on her thigh. With every second, he couldn’t help himself from falling asleep while looking around at the humans in the room.

A pair of footsteps approached the tired husband while he tried to reach for his gun. He turned to the approaching individual to find a blonde-haired human in a black uniform and Kevlar armor. In his hands was a break-action tranquilizer gun he popped the back of the barrels and loaded two more shots inside. Then he spoke with a Southern accent during the reload time. “You’ve seen too much.”

Collin had found himself floating through the offices of the Department of Purgatory after a good night’s rest. Although C.H.E.R.U.B would never take him back as another one of their employees, he was relieved to finally be back on Heavenside. That relief was bittersweet since his colleagues were still out in one of the mortal worlds. Perhaps this organization would truly return them to the fold of the Holy Father.

Seeing the operations underneath the purview of Archangel Azrael was different than what he expected. He had expected the saved and redeemed to be working entirely behind a cubicle. Here, they had proven him wrong with how busy their ranks were when it came to the affairs of the afterlife post-death. Recreation floors for bureaucrats and investigators to relax and recover from stressful engagements to operation rooms and armories containing men and women on par with the soldiery of the Holy Army. One wonders what preparations and contingencies that they had in store for themselves.

The cherub made his way to the office of the man who personally rescued him from the depths of the dark realm and the company of the Princess of Hell. He opened the door and entered, finding unorganized piles of papers stacked atop the man’s desk. Unlike his previous encounter with the saved, he was wearing a pair of slacks and a cotton white shirt with a black tie. Where his face was encased by a sealed helmet with glowing-red eye sockets, dark spots grew underneath his eyes.

He groaned at the workload laid before him until he turned his gaze upon the Heavenborn. “Glad to be back from the other side?”

“You called for me?” Collin asked as he shifted around in the man’s office and fluttered to sit in the empty chair across from him.

“Yep, I need to break things down for you,” Tony answered, leaning forward and his upper body halfway across his desk. “As of right now, Azrael is currently reassigning assets to a particular investigation of ours. I can’t tell you much about it; however, what I can say is that it’s enough to make him busy for the time being before he’ll convince C.H.E.R.U.B to let you back in. Which means, you’re either stuck with us or free to leave our headquarters until we notify your employment.”

They would really go out of their way for him? When compared to his workplace, even Deerie wasn’t that considerate when came to those working under her. He was willing to accept such a fine offer as the only reason he would remain in this building was one single person who visited the injured at the hospital. Thinking about that mere acquaintance, it was not his place to ask but given how the saved across from him went through the effort, perhaps he would be understandable. “Just curious, do you know a redeemed by the name of Artyom? He works for the department.”

“I do know an Artyom. Any descriptions that you can give? We run through countless names so you need to be very specific.” He replied but it was an understandable reason. They were organized; yet, such information flow was like that of a river or a stream. It would be unreasonable to ask him to read his mind.

“Of course. The first time I met him was at a hospital when C.H.E.R.U.B visited some hurt souls. My colleagues and I wanted to brighten their day since they were stuck in there.”

The man’s head seemed to be piqued with interest and was about to speak until his voice hesitated and reluctance took over. His expression darkened while his hand cupped his chin. “Afraid to say that I can’t answer that.”

“Uh, why not?” It was concerning that he wouldn’t speak much about the subject matter.

“I’m afraid that he’s on a mission, one way too close to the chest to tell you. My apologies but this is the sort of shit that is too damn classified for the Heavenborn.”

He was taken aback by the response but maybe it didn’t matter. “I suppose it was too much to ask. He seemed like a nice fella.”

“He is.” Tony chuckled as he shared his thoughts. “Unfortunately, it’s a personal issue and he would agree with me that Artyom wouldn’t want you near him whatsoever. Take my word on this.”

A mixture of excitement and terror emanated from within the existence of Princess Charlie “Magne” Morningstar. Her mind did not stop thinking about last night when she encountered someone from Heaven. For the first time, she had felt one leap forward to obtaining her goal by contacting them. What truly dampened her was the way the man spoke about her father in a manner that even the oldest of Hellborn in the royal court would never do - openly direct negative attention towards Lucifer as if he were the problem. She knew that her father disapproved of this dream as a mere delusion but perhaps there was something more to him than his royal prerogative would never showcase.

She sat behind her work desk and contemplated her next decisions. Redeeming the sinners was the purpose behind the Hazbin Hotel. No matter the machinations of the Radio Demon or the views of her parent, the princess would see this building work. Yet, the groundwork of saving the damned required her mind to ask the ruler of the Dark Realm thanks to that one incident with the Department of Purgatory. Brandishing her phone, Charlie scrolled through her contacts and was ready to call dad until a whisper of hesitation took over. How would he react to such an encounter since the relationship between him and those who ordered the exterminators down here was tense every year?

A bottomless pit grew within her stomach as anticipation followed. Tapping the call symbol, the line rang while her mind ran through several responses for when he’d pick up. “Here goes nothing.”

“Hello?” Caller identification picked up and Lucifer’s firm voice acknowledged her signal. “Charlotte, why are you calling me? You know that I am a busy king. If you want something to get my attention, go to your mother.”

“Dad, last night, I met people from something called the Department of Purgatory. Do you know anything about them?” She replied, hoping the information would sink in.

There was a brief pause of silence as the noise of his nostrils flared. Was he angry and willing to voice his displeasure? The mystery fell apart when father spoke in a more serious tone. “Don’t go anywhere. This will take me a minute.”

Charlie felt a cold chill throughout her office as shadows crept from the far reaches of her gaze. She had heard the stories of the King of Hell from those working under him but to experience it herself was a different. As the temperature continued to drop, she caught a glimpse of her hot breath before the darkness dissipated in the blink of an eye. The fallen archangel stood at the center of the room with a hand extending out to and resting upon the hilt of an apple cane while the other hand held a phone before being slipped into his pocket.

“Tell me what happened.” He ordered.

The princess straightened her back after witnessing the sudden appearance of her father as she recollected her encounter from last night. “They were actually not there for me but for a few people who didn’t belong in Hell - a cherub and two human demon hunters.”

He turned around and looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “I suppose that is much more reasonable than I expected,” Lucifer remarked before approaching a chair across her desk and taking a seat. With one leg folded over another, his hands and cane rested atop the white lap. “That is the first they’ve openly revealed themselves in such a manner.”

“What do you mean by that?” It was a question that was filled with a genuine curiosity as her knowledge of Heaven was little more than figments of fiction and dreams. Perhaps his insights would grant her a look into the people who order the exterminators to descend from above. “It’s the first time that I’ve ever met with them.”

“If they openly revealed themselves in that manner, then it must have been important. Nonetheless, you should steer clear from their lot for the time being.” Her dad replied with assured conviction. 

“I was asked to maintain their secret but their leader, Tony, said that you might explain something about how they have to maintain their secrecy.”

She saw him smile gleefully at the sentence and let out a chuckle. “They’re afraid of me. That is all there is to it. Ever since my final battle against the armies of Heaven, they have been hesitant to seek out my wrath lest I find an excuse to go to war with them once more. Fortunately, Azrael is quite reasonable when it comes to letting his Department of Heaven earn my ire.”

“Azrael?” The name was new to her ears while seeing the ruler of Hell express his contentment with the individual in question. “Who is that?”

“The Archangel of Death and the head of the Department of Purgatory. He is my brother… and your uncle.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard about him. How come you’ve never told me about your family in Heaven?”

He looked down at the floor and revealed an expression that Charlie had not seen him convey ever since she was born. Saddened eyes stared all while the grip around his cane began to tighten. Then he followed it up with a deep breath. “There was no point. It’s unlikely that I’ll ever get a chance to introduce you to them.”

“Perhaps there is a possibility it could happen.” The king began to laugh but she knew what it was - a sign of mockery for her suggestion just like how she thought about the hotel’s purpose.

“Charlotte, I admire your optimism. It is the most lovable and sometimes difficult trait to deal with at times.” The Fallen Archangel stood up from his chair and stood by the edge of her desk. “I killed members of my family on behalf of loving your mother. It is a sin of mine that I must bear with since time immemorial to the final hour when Raphael heralds the ending of existence.”

She shook her head at the idea her father spawned from his lips. Her father was prideful and ruthlessly honest in his beliefs but he also had admirable traits as well. The former angel was loving enough to her mother and open enough to let his daughter stand on her own opinions. “I can’t imagine what it’s like to carry that weight on your shoulders. I’d be a liar if I said I understood what you felt.”

“It is fine. These are just a musings of being a Fallen Archangel.”

“Dad,” Charlie began, hoping her father would spill more information about Heaven itself. The only way she could appeal to him was through his emotions. “Do you miss being there? You know, before you fell?”

He strolled past her and stood before a window, looking up at the sky. She joined him at his side but a glance grabbed his eyes focused on the white dot in the sky. “Indeed, I do. It was a wonderful place, where one could find everlasting happiness. Some of the habits I’ve brought upon you came from dotting over your uncles after work.”

The former servant of the Holy Father paused as his hands were placed behind his back.

“Your hotel could work if some see things your way but until they change their minds on me, redeeming a sinner would never happen. Our family is their everlasting shame, one that has yet to be corrected.”

The rendezvous didn’t take too long. Two Polis Rangers found themselves standing together in a park with both overlooking a fountain at its center. As the Hellborn and sinner passed by with their lives, the Russians took great comfort in enjoying the sight of lush green and the pure blue waters running through the streams. Artyom pulled out a pack of cigarettes and presented an opportunity over to him.

Hunter reached out to slip one from its place before brandishing his lighter. After he lit his cigarette, the veteran glanced over from his friend raising his gas mask and eagerly placing one between his teeth enveloped in blue flames. The duo began to smoke, inhaling much into their bodies and enduring the burning sensation within their lungs. Much has changed since his death at the hands of the Dark Ones, the boy he left behind with eyes full of glimmering hope was no longer the person he once knew. Now he was damned forever like him in the pits of Hell with the only comfort being his company.

A cold wind swept through with a chill that only they could be comfortable in. Hell’s weather shouldn’t have dropped that low but it didn’t take long for either to adjust accordingly. All that was left was an honest conversation with one another, just like old times. “So, have things been since we’ve last seen each other?”

“Fine, I guess,” Artyom replied nonchalantly as his gloved hand pulled out the cigarette. “I ended up sleeping with two women last night if that is any worthwhile news.”

“What?”

That was new to his ears. He had known him to be more introverted than most kids; especially, with the PTSD that he carried since his younger years. Hunter didn’t imagine his sex life to be exciting but even he was taken aback by how calm he was at mentioning that piece of information. “Knew that you’d say that. Let’s just say I ended up getting intimate with a sinner and a succubus by the name of Verosika Mayday.”

“You absolute dog!” He cried out with excitement and laughter as he grabbed the man by the back of his collar and pulled him close. This was the sort of talk that would fit in the ranks of the Spartan Order despite Colonel Mel’nikov’s insistence on maintaining a professional demeanor. Nonetheless, he was proud of his fellow man’s sexual prowess. “There has to be a story behind that.”

“Eh, it’s somewhat personal. Maybe another time but maybe we should just focus on us hanging out.”

“Then how are things working out for you in Hell? I presume that you’d be enjoying your new life here.” Everyone had their plans as they had no time to endure the suffering of the Dark Realm.

Artyom leaned against the railing overlooking the cliffside. His fingers interlocked both hands together while his gaze fell upon the denizens below. “To say it’s strange would be too simple. I feel like I’ve been given a new chance at life when compared to the one I left behind as if it didn’t count. One could say this place saved me from a pseudo purgatory that was our lives.”

“What’s with you bringing the philosophy on me?” That kind of conversation invoked the memories he had with his friend’s stepfather, whose personal beliefs were challenged and debated against whenever Hunter paid Exhibition Station a visit. Rare was it to find people with such views; however, they were quite productive at engaging the mind rather than facing off the madness in absolute silence. “Sounds like you have a lot on your mind.”

“You have no idea. Ever since I took on that quest to bring your message to the colonel, things… weird things happened to me. It’s hard to describe those events, only that it felt as if I was destined to follow a path that was only meant for me and no one else. My death being nothing more than catharsis of being free of what fate had in store for life in the post-apocalypse - a curse being lifted off my shoulders.”

He placed his hand on the man’s shoulder as a manner of reassurance. This was the only fate for men like them. “We were soldiers of the Order. It was bound to happen for the duty only we could carry to the grave. At the very least, you can find some measure of comfort that it was enough.”

“Maybe,” The younger man replied with a deep exhale from his nose, “There are times that I’ve wished I could have done more.”

“You did all that you were asked to do. The only ounce of failure is when you refuse to perform.”

A white food truck drove to the middle of the park with the sound of child-like tunes being played from its speakers. Atop its roof was a plastic effigy of ice cream in a waffle cone while children and their parents approached it with glee and joy. “Is that an ice cream truck?”

“Yep,” Hunter hastily answered with a proud smile. He remembered the time when the boy he first encountered once wished to have ice cream for his birthday; yet, no one could fulfill his wish. If there was something called fate, it had a twisted sense of humor, “I’m in the mood for it. Why don’t you head down there and fetch some for the both of us?”

“No need to tell me twice.” Artyom stepped back from the railing and walked over to the set of stairs to their right, descending further into the park with the veteran watching over him.

Minutes passed until his phone beeped, causing him to reach and see what kind of notification he was given. After brandishing the device into his hand, the former Polis Ranger recognized the ID number before looking around to see if there were any passing witnesses nearby. Fortunately for him, there were none as he unlocked it and looked into his messages. He had been given a priority hunt-and-kill mission, which he wouldn’t have minded doing so long as it absolved his sins and those of his girlfriend. Hunter downloaded the PDF file to at least get a quick look at what he was up against.

His heart stopped after the process was over. The first image his eyes caught was Artyom’s Hell form while he was casually conversing with a sinner and a succubus at what appeared to be a concert. He was being tasked with killing someone close to him and he grew worried about the prospects of their next encounter. If Artyom was this supposed traitor to God’s will maybe there was still room for mercy if he convinced his superiors to allow him a chance to save him. He would need to meet with Graves and Adam on this matter as soon as possible.

The Isra teleporter brought Tony to the safe house where Uhlman and his team resided. They were down a few helpers as the director of the FBC and the associate from KronoteK had returned to their respective organizations after the missing weapons shipment was returned to safer hands. It was rare to have these joint operations and hopefully, the servants of Heaven wouldn’t have to call upon them again to assist in their affairs. Especially, when it came to the reality that the perpetrators of the shipment hijacking came from the ranks of the Holy Army. This was to be an internal matter to be dealt with in-house before the potential of the War in Heaven sparked off the largest powderkeg in the making.

He walked through the safehouse and made his way to the office room while ignoring the other investigators minding or relaxing on their own time. The pressure of disaster and failure is averted albeit briefly on his conscious. As he entered, Uhlman sat behind his desk typing on a computer monitor before looking up from the screen and acknowledging the presence of his guest. “What’s up? You didn’t give me a call.”

There was good reason for that as he wanted to know the situation about this team’s relationship with the newfound policies of sticking close to their partners. The hunters of the department’s investigators were still out there and he wanted any sure update that the man tasked with protecting the princess of Hell had his protection. “Do you have someone looking out for Artyom?”

“Yes,” He answered standing up from his chair, “Pavel is tasked with watching over my comrade and the rest of us are watching over our communist buddy.”

“Good.” It was a relief to hear his subordinate’s report as the symbolic weight on his shoulders felt like they were lifted.

“Rumors are going around that you broke department policy regarding our secrecy to the Hellborn and sinners. Please tell me it ain’t true.”

The news of his latest actions seemed to have traveled quickly; although, Tony wasn’t happy about it. He had broken one of the most important pillars of their workplace, one that typically resulted in the investigators closing off an area while the Gendarmes performed a rather controversial policy of ‘take no witnesses, leave no survivors’ approach. The only factor that kept him from enforcing it, was the presence of the Princess of Hell. “Unfortunately, it is. Problem is that Miss Charlotte and her company are too high on the totem pole to usually silence.”

“So it’s a matter of how long it will take until the rest of the dark realm figures us out.” Observed the Russian as his hand reached for the goatee surrounding his mouth and brushed it with his fingers.

“That’s a big if, Uhlman,” He countered while joining the man on his side of the table, looking into the computer screen on the desk, “I asked her to promise that she won’t blow the lid.”

A great chuckle emerged while the man shook his head. “Do you really think she’ll hold her end of the deal? You’re putting a lot of faith in someone who could break out to the news and tell of her interactions with the so-called servants of Heaven.”

“I would think so. The princess isn’t like the others and if she holds some decent principles to believe that a sinner in Hell can be redeemed so openly, what could keep her back?” His hands slipped into his pockets enjoying the leisurely conversation about one of the few denizens of Hell that knew of his identity.

“She’ll want to know if we can sanctify the hotel grounds and ask us to redeem her people. If that televised interview was anything to go by, she certainly push for it and make sure it has results. The Council and her father won’t like it.”

There was a reason why Tony kept visiting this man’s safe house. He was one of his most trusted investigator outfits that could handle issues that were outside their purview such as the weapons shipment. Yet, Uhlman was one perspective from a bureaucratic machine that couldn’t comprehend the various interest groups the Department of Purgatory had to placate. “Believe me, I know who likes what and who doesn’t in my job. There’s a reason why Azrael put me in charge.”

“Chuvak,” The Russian took two steps back with his palms raised and open, gesturing his mistake, “I mean no offense. Just voicing my opinion that this could be problematic for everyone involved if the princess wants her dreams to be true.”

Crimson sat alone at his table. The great imp mob boss liked his own company and the thoughts that worked tirelessly throughout all of Greed to make sure his family stayed strong but influential through wealth alone. Yet, all of his efforts to obtain this achievement involved great sacrifice and all of his connections and assets were still not enough to sate his hunger for the power his position granted. His one great shame was the child he once tried to charm into becoming the man he always wanted him to be. Time began to tell that his son was a faggot of the highest order, even going so far as to openly display those affections within the ranks of the family. That all changed when his partner and bodyguard failed to look out for him and left him behind at a bank heist. Chaz would pay and his bones would be placed upon the mantlepieces that hung from the surrounding walls but the dumbass somehow had the means to make the impfather rich if he kept him alive.

He heard a door behind him swing open and it only drew his absolute ire. These were the times when he would think to himself and for someone to breach his inner thoughts at the worst time better have a good reason unless his men wanted his full wrath. “I’m going to give you ten fucking seconds to leave me the fuck alone unless you have something important to tell me.”

“Oh, boy do I have a Hell of a proposal for you.” Spoke the tone of a southern man looking to grab his attention. The imp rose from his seat and turned around, finding a man standing in the doorway in a military uniform. His clothes and armored vests were clad in black as his face remained hidden underneath a balaclava mask. The eyes were hidden away underneath red-tinted goggles.

“How did you get into my house?”

It was baffling that someone interrupted his internal thoughts but it was also insulting that this stranger had the gall to grab his full attention by breaking inside the manor. Yet, the man showed no other indication as his hands held onto the straps from his kevlar vest. “That’s a question I ain’t here to answer. What I am here for is a favor, one you’re willing to carry out.” The stranger stated before his lips let out a pop underneath the fabric. “My boss wants you to earn the attention of a Stella and a Paimon in return for a sweet deal we got for ya.”

His eyes stared at the intruder’s hidden gaze. The intuition that kept the family afloat in struggling times wanted him to think this situation threw. Whoever this man was, he liked to think he had his own weight to throw around. “What do I get in return for helping you?”

“Does a Moxxie ring any bells to you? I have him in my custody and it would be nice to be rid of him so long as you help me.”

“You found my kid?” He had spent a fortune on informants to find the one person who even reminded himself of his wife. Yet, none of them had turned up anything useful until now. “How?”

The stranger let out an evil laugh as he raised his head back. “Do you believe in coincidence or providence? Pick one - it doesn’t matter. One thing led to another and now I’m here to give you a one-time deal of a lifetime. You either take it or leave it. You’re choice.”

“You drive a hard bargain. Is there anything else you’d want to tell me before you hand my brat over?” There had to be strings. They always existed in this part of Hell.

“No strings attached but there is a bonus as an incentive of mine.”

He took two steps back and reached his hand out for an object out of view. As he retracted his hand, there was a briefcase being presented before the imp father, who flipped the locks off and opened what was inside. His eyes peered forward and saw the fat stacks of green hard cash perfectly organized. “So what do you want me to do to earn a couple of bluebloods’ attention?”

“Your son has a patron,” said the stranger as he handed the money over to the head of the family, “He goes by the name of Prince Stolas. If you kidnap him and call Princess Stella, her brother, or even her father-in-law, your son will be handed over. You got that?”

“Crystal.”

“Good.” Not a word was spoken as the stranger disappeared in a brief flash that only existed for a few seconds. Yet, Crimson was left with more questions than what he wanted to deal with. More money was good to make things easy for the family but now he felt like he made the worse deal compared to many he made in this life.

Chapter Text

The next day passed as Blitzo sat in his chair beside his company’s patron at the hospital. It was a calm atmosphere despite the noise of a computer monitor casually beeping throughout the day. As he read the latest newspaper, his mind dithered elsewhere by stealing a glance to the right and found the Goetia resting soundly in his cot. The imp contemplated the idea of finally accepting the bird demon as his boyfriend; yet, his heart remained unsure.

Was there truly genuine reciprocation of his feelings or merely a game to him? That tiresome thought always echoed from the back of his mind to break up and walk away. Though, he couldn’t due to his business relationship. Then he reflected on his past relations with others and how his attitude drove others away, leaving him to wallow amid his suffering. His mind remembered the love that was shared between himself and Verosika before proverbially stabbing her in the back. He wasn’t sure if they were on better terms but it seemed that she was happy with Railtracer.

What was certain in his mind was that the failed assassination of his boyfriend changed everything. Holding him in his arms while the paramedics arrived affected him dearly. He would be sure that his love for Stolas wouldn’t die. At the same time, an insidious thought seeped in about hunting down Striker for his attempt. Sooner or later, he would pay.

Footsteps approached the patient’s room in rapid succession as the head of the company reached for the holstered flintlock pistol strapped to his waist. If it was another would-be imp assassin, Blitzo would be ready. Then the pace began to slow down as the door handle turned and someone entered the room. Yet, he stayed his hand once he recognized the familiar fur and the color of his adoptive daughter’s clothes. She looked around for a brief moment until her gaze fell upon her. “Dad-”

“Quiet,” He whispered to her while pointing towards the sleeping Ars Goetia in the bed, “Not too loud.”

She crept forward and stood by his left side, leaning close to his ear. “Moxxie and Millie didn’t show up to work today. The last time I saw them was when you three went with Stolas to the club.”

“I can explain that one. They’re both hunting down Stolas’s assassin as we speak.” The father answered with sure conviction.

“Well, I just got this bad feeling that they’re in a tight spot and that we should help them. Either one of them would have got back for some rest.”

It was a good point. For all of Millie’s enthusiasm and Moxxie’s professional compliance to the letter, they would have at least reported in or told Loona that they were going on his errand and couldn’t come to the building. If things were dire enough, they would have made a pass for the armory and gotten Striker with some hefty power. Part of him wanted to think they were fine but Loona’s concerns may raise another possibility that those two couldn’t get a message out if they were in trouble. Even if they were, the imp couldn’t risk leaving his wounded beloved behind. “If you think they’re in trouble you can pay them a visit, I have to stay here and watch over Stolas.”

“It’s fine dad, I can probably bring Railtracer along to help me out.” She said before standing upright and making her way to the door, “I’ll send you a text once I pick up the sinner at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“Good luck and stay safe.”

Two days passed since the concert and what passed for normalcy at the Hazbin Hotel had returned with the surrounding streets cleared up. Yet, despite all of the efforts of Princess Charlie to draw sinners in, no one truly came. It must have been disheartening for her to simply feel like a waste but Artyom couldn’t do anything about it. His goal had been to protect her as requested by her father, not something he was expecting to do in his hunt to avenge his father-in-law. Nonetheless, he felt sorry for her while sitting inside a limousine with Helen at his side and Alastor sitting across from him.

There was some measure of hope for the royal heir as Verosika seemed to sympathize with her enough to conceive a plan to meet with the news network to encourage visitation. For a Hellborn, she was awfully nice about it while the two goats in the front brought them to their destination.

The Radio Demon had a schedule of his own to keep and wanted someone to accompany him. At first, the disguised saved rejected the offer for the sake of his mission but Mrs. Mayberry was insistent on finding time to spend with her while his other girlfriend was away. It was weird to be in such a relationship as he had no prior experience save for the occasional lustful fantasies of men. If coming along made her happy, he was happy. Surely the critical mission he was tasked with wouldn’t be jeopardized by his departure from his lodgings in Hell.

Alastor’s fingers moved around like the legs of a spider trying to form a web. Despite his hand’s innocuous performance, the Russian felt danger just stealing glances at the overlord’s fingertips. There was a power in his palm and the Purgatory investigator knew better than to invite its owner’s wrath. His face lit up like a Christmas tree when the vehicle slowed and his gaze focused outside the windows. “Ah, we’re here.”

“Where exactly have you brought us?” The Russian wondered. Neither he nor the teacher at his side had been notified of the destination, only that they would be visiting a meeting spot for a friend of his.

“You are indeed owed an explanation. There is this deli shop I like to go to. It’s no cannibal’s paradise but their non-human meat is delicious to enjoy. My associate and I have a routine of meeting once every few months. She quite the charm but I’m quite worried my attention would fail to keep an eye on unsavory folk.”

Mrs. Mayberry spoke out her own thoughts as the limousine finally halted. “You expect someone to backstab you?”

“You can’t really be an overlord without some rivals to your name.” He ecstatically replied while slipping out of his seat and leaving the car for the outside world.

Artyom and Helen were quick to join him while Charlie’s two goat chauffeurs reminded them that they would wait until they were finished. The deli was surprisingly humble in comparison to the appearance of the Radio Demon’s taste in fashion and oddly a fitting reflection. For someone who presented himself as refined, his preference for a meal was a stark contrast to the sinner’s twisted soul as the trio followed him inside. They were flanked by sets of tables before a large pig in a butcher’s apron stepped out from the kitchen and took her spot behind the counter across from them.

Alastor waved his hand towards her. “Salutations, Helga! I’ve got another meeting and even brought company.”

“I know the usual you two have,” The German’s gaze fell upon the other two, “Are they also regulars or specials.”

“Specials. Unfortunately, they do not appreciate the same appetite that I have.”

Her nose let out a loud snort before breaking eye contact and slipping back into the doorway from where she came. “Give me ten minutes.”

The party immediately settled down on the nearest table to their right as the couple sat together with the Russian’s arm finding space above the teacher’s shoulders. She reciprocated his act by huddling closer to him in the booth before her lips reached for his head and laid a kiss upon Artyom’s gasmask, where the cheek would be had he been in his normal form.

“One could wonder if you two were already married,” The overlord remarked as his fingers tapped against the polished table, “Though, it’s quite jarring to see two hearts flourishing like a young couple when the last time you two shared your love, it was enough to make me question whether you’ll break the bed or not thanks to that night of degeneracy.”

“My apologies. To find love is a… rather passionate subject for me.” He replied with enough foresight to carefully exchange words with an evil dealer.

“Indeed. But enough about that. Since we’re at a butcher’s shop, let’s talk about times we’ve painted the walls with another’s entrails!”

Helen Mayberry chuckled before seeing through his message. “So you want small talk to pass the time? Well, I killed my cheating husband and the bitch he was fucking. It’s the whole reason I’m down here.”

“Ah, the price of failure for a husband’s loyalty to his wife. Must have been satisfying to punish him right then and there.” Commented the Radio Demon.

“Yeah, it was,” She said approvingly and it was in its own right disturbing to see a loved one showcase that level of sadistic pleasure. “Very cathartic, shame that we’d both end up down here.”

The beady eyes of Alastor shifted towards him now that her story had concluded. “Do you have any bodies you’ve collected in your closet? By the look of your wear, a soldier should at least have his fair share of killings.”

“Does killing two outposts full of soldiers from opposite sides count?” He remembered the horrors of traveling across the Bridge at the Moscow Metro. The sounds of Dushka bursts lighting up the darkness every few seconds, the sight of hundreds of fallen littered through that small stretch of concrete, and the smell of rotting flesh at the mercy of flies and rodents. His experience flashed before him in a brief moment when the Reds and Nazis spotted him and forced him to kill every soldier that stood in his way. Yet, he recalled the specific acts of ignorance that allowed him to stomp out the life of the wounded or his inaction to save the helpless prisoners from casual execution. It was tempting to share his thoughts or excuses in those moments; however, Artyom quickly remembered his current mission and the Department’s policy on maintaining his disguise.

“How many did you think you’ve killed? I’m certain that my score is perhaps higher overall but not to the extent of your casualties.”

It was easy for the sinner to make that statement. He wanted to retort and speak of his killings of the Dark Ones but that subject was an old wound he didn’t want to touch upon for the sake of his soul and the innocent that died at his hands. Then Artyom’s mind returned to count the bodies he shot and slew from the shadows, hoping it would be enough to sate the man’s question and cease further discussions. “At least over a hundred. It was a small place but quite the frontline.”

“Impressive!” His heart gave an uneasy feeling the more he stared at the crimson pupils. Was Alastor making his own assessments of him?

A bell rang as the deli’s front door swung open and the Russian’s attention was taken elsewhere by a new arrival. A pale-skin sinner stepped inside in a beautiful red dress while a red hat decorated with skulls and red flowers rested atop her white hair. So this was the person that the Radio Demon was waiting for? For a meeting between these two, there seemed to be more involved in this affair than he expected. The void that was her eyes turned towards their table as a great smile revealed great white teeth, so sharp she would make a shark jealous. To his surprise, the woman revealed a French accent upon speaking. “Mon cher ami, you should have told me you’ve brought friends this time.”

“I hope this doesn’t affect our relations but I was in the mood for our delicacies and then I remembered what my schedule entailed,” He answered as she approached their booth and sat in the empty spot beside the awaiting gentlemen, “I’ve already ordered for you so don’t have to.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have done that.”

“I can’t tell if this is a meeting or a double date. Mind introducing us to your lady friend.” Mayberry remarked as Artyom noticed the stranger steal a glance at him, cheeks reddened with slight embarrassment.

“My name is Rosie,” She answered before stealing a glance at her fellow sinner, “Alastor and I are what you would call close cannibal friends.”

The mere mention of such a despicable description reminded the soldier of his former days as a Polis Ranger. It was where blindness loyalty and naivety led him to believe that the now deceased Colonel Mel’nikov would find the last remnants of the Russian government, only to encounter an entire facility littered and filled with man-eaters - some who pretended to have some sense of civility while others engaged in absolute barbarism. In the few moments where he traveled through their lair, the imagery of their barbarism towards each other was etched into his mind. “Is that even possible? I would imagine either of you would go down on each other if one of you croaked and died.”

Alastor’s and Rosie’s eyes blinked and widened large enough to be like plates, flustered by the expression he gave to everyone at the table. The sinner holding a microphone made his reply. “How could be so damn lewd?”

“What are you talking about?” He was perplexed by their reaction, “I was saying had one of you died, the other would have started carving the dead one for a meal.”

“Oh, I thought you meant something different.”

It was here that Helen burst out laughing as the confused post-apocalypse survivor turned to her. Was it something he said? “They thought you were telling them a sex joke!”

“What does that have to do with anything.” He took a moment to think about what he said and reflected on how that could be misconstrued by the others. Then it suddenly hit him as his hand reached for his forehead and facepalmed.

“So there isn’t harm done, is there?”

“No, not really,” Rosie acknowledged as she tucked her hands atop her lap, “This is quite a humorous conversation, to be honest. It changes things up compared to the usual talking I have with Alastor.”

The deli owner stepped out from the kitchen and made her way over to their table. In her hands was a tray containing four sandwiches while supporting four additional jugs of cold beer.

“Ah, it’s time to eat! Can’t wait to dig in.”

The preparations to bring down Lucifer had been ongoing as Adam oversaw every little detail from his command center. It was a matter of when they would act that would indicate their commencement and that time was approaching based on the frequency of situation reports that the Archangel of Judgement would ask. His superior’s insistence was becoming a hindrance to deciding his next decision to advance this great plan. He stood behind Lute sitting in a chair as the female exterminator busied herself tapping at the keyboard and concentrating on the daily intranet messages being updated from one safehouse to the next.

It was here that the first man of humanity took a sip from his coffee mug as the daily workload seemed to increase with the number of requisitions to fully equip the standing forces to perform at their theoretical limit. Part of him wished that this matter was tasked to someone well-suited to this problem; however, the responsibility rested upon his shoulder after the previous supply officer attempted to leak information out to the Department of Purgatory - and by extension - to the rest of the unaware departments beyond Gabriel’s command. Fortunately, he was able to terminate the saved’s existence in one fell swoop lest this whole masquerade fell apart.

Adam wondered if their situation would have been better had his superior not personally attacked the weapons shipment. The Archangel of Death wouldn’t be this invested into seeking them out but what was done was done. As some of the older humans would put it, the Rubicon had been crossed and there could only be one way forward - do or die. Shame that the true followers of the Holy Father had to act in the shadows since the Council of Archangels seemed so interested in maintaining the status quo. After all, what reason did they have to hold back from killing their fallen brother once and for all? That hesitation had instilled distrust in the ranks since Michael encouraged the signing of that damned treaty. Heaven was a hair’s breadth away from finishing off the traitorous ‘king’ of Hell and his charming beloved.

A loud slam echoed from behind his back as the first man turned around to find the newly redeemed sinner arriving at his headquarters. Hunter better return with good news as he watched him stride across the room and approach him. “So, are you here to tell me that you killed another one?”

“No,” The Russian answered, shaking his head. How disappointing? There was potential with this man’s loyalty and he seemed to be squandering it at this moment, “I’m here to talk about the target.”

“What of it? May I remind you that you made an obligation to serve Heaven’s best interests? Remember what you are sacrificing on the line for your girlfriend.” He said before approaching the railing towering and gripping the metal bars.

“This target… I personally know him.”

“Well then, it should be simple,” Adam bluntly put as he continued to encourage his newly-acquired follower into completing his objective, “Take advantage of his trust and kill him. How is this hard?”

Hunter’s head lowered as his gaze fell to the floor. The blessed human could see sadness in that look and perhaps an explanation was needed lest he concluded the matter. “He was a close friend of mine when we once lived. Artyom is to me what a son is to a father, a bond forged by friendship instead of blood.”

“I see. It’s more than I anticipated. Lute, what information do we have on the target?” He had seen this man’s zeal to serve Heaven at any cost and to see him slow down and confront him with this reality made him think. Ordering him to kill someone whom he had a fatherly bond with would leave a bad impression. Especially, if he was recently recruited into the ranks. He’ll have to see what he can do to mend this problem once and for all.

“Got it,” The exterminator angel acknowledged as her fingers continued to tap away. Adam turned halfway to see the computer screen in front of him shift from shifting messages into profile dossiers about the targets being hunted in the depths of Hell. A profile came up from the archives of the Department of Purgatory and it explained all the details he needed if he wondered why he was the target, “The soul in question is a redeemed saved disguised as a sinner. He’s been seen at the Hazbin Hotel accompanying major figures such as Princess Charlie and a succubus pop star by the name of Verosika Mayday.”

“Ah, explains everything.”

“Wait a minute, he’s not a sinner?” The redeemed sinner expressed his full surprise as confusion struck him. His mind seemed perplexed while his eyes glazed over the information being presented to him.

“Now you see why you are given the message to kill him. He never was one of the sinners,” The first human quickly looked at the screen to see the stranger’s name, “Artyom is a traitor to the cause and we can’t let him know about us.”

“Is there another way? I know my orders but…”

He could see the lack of conviction and Hunter’s willingness to seek out another way. Humans are complicated creatures and would try to find an excuse to resolve an issue so long as it didn’t lead to a negative outcome. It was a matter he personally understood while pondering about the alternatives rather than giving him an excuse to break those former bonds. What if he could develop a way to reinforce them - one that could benefit Gabriel’s cause even further? “How about this? This man remains to be your target but instead of killing him, why don’t you attempt to convince him.”

“Sir?” Hunter looked up at him unsure of this transition in objectives, “You said you wanted me to kill him?”

“Indeed but I think it would be more detrimental than letting you suffer with the stain of your pseudo-son on your hands. You’ve killed people on our behalf and surely, you’ll do it again but I’ll give you another chance as that has always been part of the Holy Father’s plans. Convince this Artyom to join us and assist my superior in tearing Hell’s existence apart, brick-by-brick and he will live on the winning side.” Adam approached him and left a reassuring gesture by placing a hand on his shoulder.

The old soldier nodded his head with gratitude. “T-Thank you. I appreciate what you have done for me. I will do everything in my power to get him to come along.”

“I know you will,” Despite this generous gift, it also came with a few strings attached. If it did not go well as planned, the outcome would be the same, “Graves will be ordered to accompany you to see this done. Should this succeed, Heaven will have two more reliable souls when the time comes. If your friend refuses to accept this act of mercy, my lieutenant and you will eliminate this witness once and for all. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes sir!” His boots snapped together as he saluted him.

He had to admit, it was nice to receive such a dutiful soul like him. “Very good. You may go and do not return until this target is no longer a concern of mine.”

Archangel Michael, the High Marshal of the Holy Army, had very few moments to spend to himself. In between the matters that would affect the military’s capabilities of winning battles and waging war upon the grand hosts of Hell, the commander of the Holy Father’s soldiers sat on his couch and looked across a coffee table to see his fireplace. Orange-red flames danced around the logs, peeling away the outer layer of bark, and leaving behind burnt crisps below. The more he stared, memories of past battles and clashes against Lucifer simmered forth like a dam broken by a flood. Old scars could still be felt despite the eons of living past those days, such was the damage of blessed and damned weaponry.

A pair of hands wrapped around his shoulders as someone’s head shifted beside his. It only made him smile, knowing the first woman of humanity was with him. “Hello Eve, I hope you’ve had a pleasant day.”

“Aye. Just finished directing the arriving saved with Peter after the Department of Purgatory sent another wave of newcomers. No surprise sinners this time. I’ve done this countless times but it feels great to still meet with them.” She admitted in a soft-spoken tone, filled with confidence and excitement.

“Definitely more interesting than rummaging through lists.”

“Aw, I can fix that for you,” The High Marshal felt a peck on his cheeks as she clambered over the couch and leaned against him. Disheveled dark hair embraced his tailor-made white suit, wrinkling it’s sharp appearance. Nonetheless, Michael reached for her hand and held hers while they rested on the couch together, “It’s rather worrying that our son hasn’t managed to contact us.”

The mere mention of their offspring darkened his mood. Now that his soul had met Death’s embrace, he didn’t know how to make his reply. Their child had endured twenty years of suffering, unaware that his mother faked her own death at a young age and traumatized him as Eve went through the effort to reconnect his specific reality to Heaven. She wouldn’t have done that if humanity didn’t engage in a nuclear apocalypse that accidentally severed the saved and the damned from the afterlife. “I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea to meet with him.”

“Of course, it’s a good idea. What parent doesn’t want to meet with their child after being separated for so long?” Eve rebuked but he had thought about the well-being of their son’s own feelings on the matter.

“What if he doesn’t approve of this deception of ours? Two decades of guilt, dear. How do we explain to him that he didn’t suffer the trauma of witnessing his own mother but rather you left him at the mercy of a cruel world?”

“That’s up for him to decide, Michael,” The first woman of humanity lifted her legs onto the couch and cuddled against his chest as his arm interlocked with hers, “He’s been alone all of his life. Even in the company of others, we are the only ones who can truly see the scared boy behind the facade of a brave warrior. The least we could do is be for him instead of holding it off.”

Being a father seemed more troublesome than he imagined. The archangel pondered his situation and considered his fallen brother’s place when his niece was brought into existence. What went through the minds of Lucifer and Lilith when they raised their daughter into the person she is today? “It makes me wonder about him.”

“The ruler of the Dark Realm?”

“How did you know?” She seemed so sure about his inner thoughts.

Eve giggled as pure comfort brought them closer. “I’ve spent one night with him, I should know. Besides, you and Azrael were close to him once before his descent. One doesn’t need to be a mathematician to figure this one out. You’re probably wondering how he handled Charlotte.”

“It is a puzzle that continues to baffle me and it gives me no insight into how we’ll handle Artyom when we meet in person. Though, I wonder if he’ll ever get that chance given his situation.”

“Do you care to explain?” His beloved questioned with a sate of closure, “What’s keeping him back from meeting us?”

He remembered his conversation with the Archangel of Death and the conversation they had with him. Yet, the sensitive information meant that he could not disclose any detail lest it compromise the issues that Death was responsible for. “I’m afraid to say it is classified. This is a matter that has to be kept close to the chest. Please understand.”

“Then do what you can to make sure he comes back. There is much we have to talk about. Our son deserves to know the truth at the very least.”

The return from the deli had revealed much about the man that was Alastor the Radio Demon. For the bluster of this sinner who had slain scores of lives for his sadistic pleasure, it was comical to see him socially inept at handling his relationship with the fairer sex. He seemed so keen on reaching out for Rosie’s affections; yet, the opportunity to express that was not realized despite not being so upfront. What Artyom hadn’t anticipated was this well-behaved overlord being such a lightweight that drinking a fraction of his pint made him drunk.

When the limo arrived at the front of the hotel, everyone immediately exited the vehicle. The disguised redeemed and Rosie found themselves having his arms around their shoulders while Helen marched over to the front and opened the door for everyone. Razzle and Dazzle immediately went inside for a brief moment before returning with cleaning supplies. They had their work cut out for them since the sinner accidentally puked his guts out inside the limousine.

After Charlie’s servants rushed past them, they entered the building Vaggie and Angel Dust came into the lobby to find them in their situation. Soon the pink homosexual spider paused and studied the situation. “Huh? The strawberry pimp can’t hold his drink. I’d think he would be made of stronger shit.”

“You’re not the only one who thought the same. Here I thought I couldn’t handle my alcohol.” Artyom replied as the man he carried tried to muster a sentence. Unfortunately, he couldn’t distinguish a single word.

“That’s because you’re a Russian,” Helen remarked as she closed the door after everyone was inside, “You’re built differently.”

Vaggie laughed at the expense of the two trying to drag him to the couch. “So falls the mighty Alastor. If Husk was here, he would have the time of his life.”

Once Artyom and Rosie placed him down on the couch, he reached out for her hand as she was taken aback by his sudden act. “I-I… l-love you.”

“Oh! Why don’t you get some sleep? We’ll talk next time.” The cannibal woman’s cheeks reddened with embarrassment as she leaned forward and kissed the drunk Radio Demon on the forehead. Then she gently laid him onto a pillow before stealing a glance at the former Polis Ranger, “Never thought he would say that but I thank you and your friend for helping him back. Don’t know what would happen to him if he came alone.”

“Bye-bye, Rosie!” Alastor exclaimed until he fell asleep and snored the rest of his drunken state away. Not a word was spoken when the pale-skinned woman walked away and strode to the Hotel’s front.

Angel walked over to Artyom’s side and looked down at the man sleeping before them. Then his head turned to Rosie leaving out the front door. “So, who’s the daisy?”

“His girlfriend,” Answered the disguised investigator as his hands slipped into his pockets. His musings revealed themselves as the drunken overlord succumbed to sleep, “ He never really explained that meeting but something tells me that Helen and I were there to give him confidence.”

“Confidence? Shit, I’m shocked that there isn’t anyone here who doesn’t have confidence issues when it comes to talking to someone they like.”

“So, while Helen and I were away, anything interesting happening?” It was small talk but it also served the purpose of gathering information in an organic appearance.

“Charlie’s talking to your other girlfriend,” The gangster answered while placing all four of his hands on his waist, “Turns out she’s striking another deal with the hotel and going to talk about the hotel to Katie Killjoy. Look, as much as I enjoy a good laugh, I don’t think the princess can handle another beating to her pride.”

Artyom grew sympathetic since he knew what Angel Dust was referencing. He remembered that time when looked on the television and saw the absolute disaster her highness had to endure. It was a shame that he truly couldn’t express his honest wishes for her despite serving the Department of Purgatory. Then he heard Vaggie speak, his head turned to see the moth girl cross her arms and a face of skepticism directed at the spider. “Who would have thought you’d be sorry for her? Maybe there is something under that fluff.”

“Hey now. Let’s not get mushy all of a sudden. I have a reputation to keep.” He warned her.

A loud force burst through the front door as four sinners made their way to the noise. Its suddenness made the disguised redeemed reach for a holstered pistol at his side as a shadow loomed from the entrance thanks to the sun’s placement. His eyes hardened at the sight of a wolf-like creature huffing hard before entering the Hazbin Hotel, revealing to be none other than Loona, Blitz’s adoptive daughter. “Railtracer, I need your help!”

“Uh, who are you?” Vaggie questioned while the investigator pulled his hand away from his weapon, “You should know it’s not a good idea to break down someone’s door.”

“No offense but I’m in a hurry.”

“Everyone, I like for you to meet with Loona. She’s the daughter of my boss back at I.M.P. Is that good enough of an introduction?” He began while walking forward to the worried Hellborn who had certainly seen better days, “What’s wrong?”

“Moxie and Millie haven’t shown up. I’m worried they got captured like last time and need help.” How could he forget the last time the company got into trouble? It’s the reason why he was assigned to Charlie since he broke some very fine rules.

“Any idea where they went?”

The Hellhound shook her head. It was a disappointing answer but one that Artyom had to accept. “I got their scent but it’s a matter of time before it gets cold. We need to leave, right now.”

“One of these days, your dad’s company might be the end of me with this amount of bullshit that comes up,” Artyom turned around and strode towards a hallway, “Let me get my gear before we set off.”

“Hey, you need any help?” Angel offered.

He stopped to steal a glance at the Hellhound. “Your call, Loona.”

“I don’t know. Isn’t this place run by Lucifer’s daughter? Not sure if it’s a good idea to get any of you involved. It’s already bad enough that we got you of all people in trouble,” She seemed unsure as she looked back at the Russian in the room. A brief pause was left between them until the Hellborn revealed her conviction, “Fuck it. I’ll take all the help I can get. Anyone else want to pile on?”

Vaggie raised her hand. “I’ll tell my girlfriend something so she won’t raise Hell about it. Besides, I got a spear in the back that needs some blood.”

“You, I like you.”

Chapter Text

It was tiresome to be chased by that damned couple from I.M.P. but Striker was glad to lose them at the apartments. Part of him wanted to finish them off until he received a call from his employer about a change in plans. The Ars Goetia infuriated him; however, they paid well enough for him to at least have some extra funds to buy high-grade weaponry and equipment such as blessed weaponry.

He arrived at the front of the mansion to witness the splendor that only the highborn could afford. The household guards opened the gates for him in a rather hateful silence as he strode into the large frozen fortress overlooking the nearby lands. As he pressed forward and made his way inside, an insidious cold chill seeped around his body while he growled at the immediate change in temperature. An imp butler greeted him and escorted the assassin further inside its hallways as he witnessed frozen slumps of ice and snow.

Striker was brought into the dining room where two Goetia nobles sat by the far end of the room. Yet, he looked to his right to see a group of imps and Greed sharks in business suits stand upright. Despite their professional demeanor, there was a hint of sadistic killers in their eyes, people he should be wary of.

A Goetia noble wearing an ice-sculpted crown and a bright blue fur vest rose from his seat and turned to greet him. “So comes our gracious assassin! My dear sister has been rather impatient to see you. It seems that you failed to complete your task.”

“Yes, sir, the target was accompanied by other assassins. If you wanted me to get another shot at Prince Stolas, then I had to peel off and keep them off my back.” The killer replied, hoping this would be convincing to Andrealphus.

“You had him in your sights!” Shouted Princess Stella, her outburst demanding the full attention of everyone in the room, including the imps and Greed sharks. “Had you done your job, I wouldn’t have to talk to another one of your kind.

He wanted to snarl and quip at the bitch but he knew better than to instill her wrath. It was only a matter of time before someone paid him to shut her trap. Yet, he also reminded her about the target’s situation in that part of Hell. “You tasked me to shoot a guest at Ozzie’s. Consider yourself luck that Asmodeus hasn’t paid us a visit for this shit.”

“Well, it is a good point that you’ve brought up,” Andrealphus cut her off as he extended his hand out in front of her, “Given that my brother-in-law is a patron of a certain I.M.P. company, it does throw a wrench in our plans, doesn’t it? Fortunately, there’s a chance for us to mend this matter effectively thanks to these gentlemen here. Please introduce yourselves.”

“My name is Crimson and this is my gang. Now, I’ve been in search of my son for a very long time but he’s been hiding from my nose since he left. Then someone tips me off that he works for a certain Blitzo. Safe to say, we all have aligning interests with one another. You birds want Stolas’ head on a platter, the assassin wants to kill a Goetia, and I just want my Moxxie back. So how about we help each other?” Proposed the short imp in a business suit as he smoked a large cigar in his mouth.

“So how do you intend to help us?”

“I’ve got the manpower but no one is as skilled as this assassin fella I’ve been hearing about,” He answered while turning to look at Striker, “If you can do what I think you can do, I’ll help you capture a Goetia in return for your services. How does that sound?”

Another chance to get at the couple once again? To think that his father would be so willing was indeed a surprise, one that brought a smile to his face. “You have yourself a deal.”

There were a few days that the Purgatory investigators were granted time on Heavenside. Uhlman decided it was time to act on the leave days that he earned since his induction into the organization. It might not be seen as a significant matter in the grand scheme of issues but an investigator spending a few hours back in Heaven did much to induce relief from the stress of operating a secret life. If there was a small blessing to be had it was that Azrael was very considerate about the well-being of his employees. Every saved and redeemed had their own room, even if they didn’t use it as much for it allowed souls to settle down and find some measure of alone time to themselves.

His back lay against the soft sheets of his bed as the veteran pondered about his future. How long would it take for his team to finish their job and finally enjoy some peaceful respite? That possibility seemed too far-fetched, even for him as the operations against the members of the Holy Army spelled trouble for the Department of Purgatory. Then there was the systematic assassination of his disguised colleagues and it all troubled him. His bones felt the storms of war on the horizon and the question of who that would be made his thoughts grow ever-exhausted. It strangely reminded him of the Battle of D6 with Colonel Mel’nikov and Artyom.

A buzz in his pocket interrupted his train of thought as he reached inside to brandish his cell phone. Stealing a glance at the caller's identification, it was soon revealed to be Pavel seeking his attention. Placing the device beside his ear, Uhlman answered with a mischievous grin. “This person has not been reached please try again later.”

“Comrade, this is serious!” The former communist expressed his displeasure as the sound of an engine’s roar echoed in the background, “Artyom seems to be getting himself in trouble again.”

“Explain, I’m all yours.” He said as he straightened his back upward and sat from the edge his bed.

“Been following him but I’ve noticed that the married Hellborn from I.M.P. are missing. Blitzo’s daughter is seeking help and she went for our man’s assistance. They’re leaving Pentagram City’s limits and heading into the Badlands.”

“That doesn’t seem anything out of the ordinary but this conversation better be worth my time,” He said, hoping it wasn’t a mere fluke to get worked over. It wasn’t uncommon to make mistakes on a deceitful operation, “Is this relevant to our operations?”

Pavel’s voice seemed sure and confident as he gathered his words for a response. “Artyom and the people accompanying him are heading over to an abandoned estate that possessors supposedly overran.”

“It doesn’t sound like much. Something should stand out if you want me to act.” The Russian mused as he contemplated the possibilities of his friend’s situation.

“Well, Strelok did tell me that he’s hearing some Holy Army frequencies on the radio. Said that the static is clearing up since my car’s chasing after our investigator,” Reported the communist as he paused for a brief second, “Sorry about that. People down here don’t know how to drive.”

“I don’t think that this is a coincidence. They might be getting into a trap or a hideout for the people responsible for that attack. Let me talk to Tony and we’ll see if you guys can get reinforcements if things turn to shit.”

Maybe he was overreacting; however, one could never be truly sure. Better to be safe than sorry. Then there was the matter that Artyom was also tasked with being Charlie’s bodyguard and if he went missing or killed in action, Death wouldn’t be so pleased about those developments. His thought process was broken when Pavel acknowledged him. “Ladna. I got Strelok, V, and Niko with me if you’re not successful.”

The call ended and Uhlman was summoned back to work. He was a soldier and his duties were to be carried out but a voice whispered to stay and spend a few more minutes resting. Laziness wasn’t a quality to be appreciated and it was tempting to remain in his room; yet, the man paused and remembered his motivations. Hell, he remembered those times when Tony briefed him on the death of Colonel Mel’nikov. There was no time to sit back and let his former superior’s death be in vain. He rose from the bed and straightened his back. Such was life as the Purgatory investigator.

The doctors were sure that Prince Stolas would live through and see another day. He wasn’t sure whether it was a blessing or a curse at this point. Was it worth living through the agonizing hatred of his wife or the rather toxic attitude of his boyfriend? The Goetia thought about it in the car as he was being driven home by none other than Blitzo himself. Yet, he looked back on the day when his assassin almost took his life and the imp sitting across from him was absolutely distraught. While the emotions of a low-ranking Hellborn were hardly considered, the royal could see that the creature did care, despite all of the rare moments of his soul feeling disregarded.

Soon the van arrived at the front of the mansion and the recovering Goetia stepped outside. He lowered himself to see his lover at the wheel, his eyes looking out at the road in front of him before stealing a glance at the passenger at the right flank. “Hey, take care of yourself. I don’t you to stress yourself to death.”

“Thanks for looking out for me,” The heir replied with genuine affection as he reached out and held the imp’s hands once more, “Try to get some rest. I’ll be seeing you.”

“I appreciate that.” It was strange to see him smile, not out of masochistic pleasure, but one of care.

Soon the van drove off from the street and the prince remained on the sidewalk. It was melancholic to see him turn around the corner, never to be seen again. That imp was perhaps the closest in seeing what truly resided in his heart; yet, his hesitation was what kept him back. Time would tell whether that love would truly be reciprocated as he opened the gates and walked to the front door. The plants turned to see him, their maws open with hunger but they knew well not to bite the hand that fed them.

Stolas entered his home once more as silence filled its halls. There was a bit of relief, knowing that his wife wasn’t there to berate him or shout and scream. Perhaps he could seek out his daughter and spend more time with her.

“Octavia! I’m back!”

It was unsurprising that his daughter didn’t reply. Maybe she was on her headphones listening to her music or deliberately ignoring him? He continued further throughout the house but noticed the lack of activity. Then he came into the living room to see a number of his imp servants lying dead on the ground, their blood dried up as his daughter was strapped to a chair in the center of the room. Her mouth had been gagged while a horrified look on her face stared at him. He rushed forward as any father wood but then the royal heard her muffled voice trying to talk to him.

A golden lasso descended from above and tightened around him. His arms were constricted as the ropes tightened. Dozens of imps and Greedsharks jumped him as their hands got ahold of his binds and made it ever so harder for him to slip out. Stolas frantically glanced at his surroundings seeing these low-borns have the nerve to appear in business suits and handled him like a thug. Yet, he saw a cowboy among them, circling around like a predator circling its prey with his hands holding his end of the golden rope. He looked familiar until the memories reminded him of a similar appearance at Ozzie’s. “You?”

“Well now, how does it feel to be trapped in your own house,” The creature began as a satisfied smile rested upon his face, “Prince Stolas, son of Paimon, a damned fool you are.”

“That’s some nice work you did there. Not many can take down an Ars Goetia like that.” Spoke a gentlemanly voice as the crowd moved aside for a short imp smoking a large cigar. Spots under his eyes revealed an exhausted man while his gaze was one that felt venomous and toxic from looks alone. His stroll towards Stolas was indeed intimidating if it was for someone who could be terrified by the likes of him.

“I am to be perfect sometimes. Especially against their kind.”

The stranger smiled as he turned to look at the imprisoned royals. “I’ve got a deal waiting for me and it involves you. Safe to say, I don’t have to be worried over dealing with you.”

“Who put you up to this?” The owl demanded from his captors, hoping he would have some understanding of his dire situation, “Surely, we could work something out?”

“Your wife sends her regards.”

“Stella?” He knew that she hated him but never did he think that his supposed wife would stoop so low to hire assassins against him.

“Yep. I have some unrelated business with her and if I need to kidnap you to get it over with, then this was going to happen,” The old imp said nonchalantly as he reached for his cigar and released all of the inhaled smoke deep within, “Alright, bag him and the girl.”

A fully occupied car drove on a lonely road in the countryside. No jokes or funny remarks, just an atmosphere of unease that dominated their minds. Artyom was eager to rescue his coworkers but an insidious thought seeped in about encountering the captors of Moxxie and Millie. Strangely enough, he was reminded about the stomach-churning event at Red Square where Pavel trapped him and attempted to kill him. Why was his body undergoing the same feeling as he was now? It did little to comfort him as he looked ahead of the car as his M4 carbine rested between his legs while his hands rested atop the butt stock.

A great mist encapsulated around them and its intensity made it utterly difficult to penetrate even with the foglights. He stole a glance from the driver’s seat to his left and saw Loona drive with her window lowered. Her head peeked out to the side and her nose sniffed while maintaining her eyes on the road. “It’s getting stronger. We’re getting close.”

“That’s a good doggie. Might be nice to have a Hellhound around the Hotel,” Commented Angel Dust as he finally broke the serious tone within the vehicle, “So I gotta ask, what’s your trick?”

“Moxxie has a peculiar scent on him. It mostly has to do with his peculiar taste in coffee.” The driver answered while maintaining her concentration.

The Russian felt the need to join in on the conversation but decided to take a page out of Uhlman’s book of treating a serious matter with a bit of humor. “Of course, it had to be Moxxie. It wouldn’t surprise me if he would put on perfume in his drink.”

“Believe me, he’s done that. It’s just that he’s vowed not to do that again unless he wants to commit suicide.”

Vaggie spoke up as Artyom looked over his shoulder to see the moth keeping an exterminator spear close to her chest. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Ever since Blitz adopted me,” She answered, “Back then it was just me and him killing humans on the mortal plane. Things were a bit different and he barely made ends meet but things got better after Moxxie and Millie were recruited.”

“All of that would sound wholesome if it wasn’t for the hitman business you’re in.” The sinner sounded as if there was a characteristic to respect.

“Honestly, a good chunk of the people we kill kinda deserve to die. Humans are surprisingly weird and disgusting behind closed doors.”

That sentence resonated with Artyom as he was reminded of the skullduggery that existed in the Moscow Metro; yet, he remained unsure whether that statement was true all across the board. “That’s true to a degree but the opposite could be said about the goodness of people as well. You would be surprised to find imposing strangers with a heart full of gold.”

“So if that’s the case,” Angel Dust interrupted, “How did a guy like you end up in Hell?”

“I killed angels.”

The conversation paused as he quickly looked at the driver and the other passengers. Their blood-drained expressions and inability to speak seemed to be their response. It was a personal matter he only shared with Helen but perhaps that was because was willing to be intimate with her on the life he once knew.

“So now you know why I’m in the realm of damnation.”

Loona raised her hand and immediately grabbed everyone’s attention. “We’re here. Time to look around.”

Soon the party looked ahead as the vehicle entered the perimeter of an abandoned estate. Brick walls were covered in a layer of vines the iron gates were swung open on rusted hinges. The visibility in the fog seemingly got better as their car lights were able to see up to thirty meters. As the Hellhound decelerated the car to a stop, they parked in front of a large mansion and stepped out the doors.

Artyom’s old habits kicked in as he quickly raised his assault carbine, ready to deal with potential hostiles. Then he heard the cocking of a weapon and looked to see Angel Dust load a drum magazine into his Thompson alongside Vaggie holding onto her blessed polearm. Loona was the first to lead the party towards the main entrance as her nose continued to sniff the air just as before. Soon, they slowly unlocked the door and proceeded inside.

The Russian activated his tactical flashlight in the lobby while scanning the surrounding dark rooms of the mansion. For a place that seemed abandoned, an eerie feeling of being watched from the shadow crept into his head. “Whoever took Moxxie and Millie, they know we’re here.”

“You seem too sure of yourself.” The moth said behind his back.

“I have experience with this kind of bullshit.”

Loona stopped walking forward and her head immediately pointed ahead with an alert look to the front. He took it as a sign that she caught a nearby presence that aroused his suspicions. Then the former Polis Ranger stood by her side and pointed his flashlight ahead, hoping to see who awaited them. A glimmer shined onto a set of stairs leading to the second floor above them; however, there was a figure of a man sitting on the staircase smoking. The stranger seemed relaxed while puffs of white smoke masked the identity of his face. His mind seemed to recognize the figure until he recognized the Hell form of someone who embodied the propaganda posters of the Soviet new man. Confusion seeped into his mind, knowing that he once had ice cream with an old friend.

“Hunter?” He asked, hoping this close relation of his would clear matters up.

A low chuckle emanated from the other side of the lobby as the man removed the cigarette from his lips and tossed it aside. The veteran’s appearance is no longer hidden away by the burnt tobacco. “You always had keen eyes.”

“Railtracer, you know this guy?” Asked the homosexual gangster and he stood beside Artyom and readied his sub-machine by his hip.

“We’re old friends back when he was amongst the living. You could say I was a teacher of his who taught him important aspects of life. It’s a shame that this might be the only time that Artyom will ever introduce all three of you to me.”

Vaggie stepped forward and readied her spear pointing directly at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“What he means, ma’am, is that you three aren’t going to walk out of this little shindig alive.”  A voice of authority dominated the room as the lights turned on. There was a chandelier hanging above the group as dozens of armed soldiers in black uniforms appeared on the second floor. Their weapons were present and aimed at the four standing before Hunter. Then another appeared at the top of the imperial staircase as he descended from the right flight. Where the others were hidden away by balaclava masks he was an exception. The blonde-haired and blue-eyed man, with an unshaven face, and a scar along his right cheek - smiled with his weapon lowered, “Technically, it could end up going to four, depending on whether your Russian friend still maintains his loyalty to the Department of Purgatory.”

“Hunter, what is the meaning of this?” Artyom could feel the looks of his fellow companions but his gaze fell upon the man he once looked up to. They had eaten, drank, and shed their blood together on behalf of Exhibition station. His heart felt heavy at the betrayal in place and the young man shook his head. What could honestly bring a man like him to stoop so low?

“So here’s the deal, investigator. Your buddy wants you to stop working for Azrael and the rest of those sonovabitches in Heaven who still think that maintaining the status quo with Lucifer is in their best interests. If you do that, we'll welcome another to the winning side and finish the mistake that is Hell. Our superiors would be happy to know that we've recruited someone so skilled; especially for one who contributed to uncovering our operations. You can thank Hunter for advocating for us to spare you.”

So these were the conspirators who were responsible for defending the weapon shipment? The offer was considerable but it was designed around weak-willed men who lived a life without principles. Not for people like him. “And if I refuse?”

“We'll just shoot all four of you right where you stand and be a few hands short.” The leader replied nonchalantly, “Take the chance, kid. This is the one and only.”

“I can’t. Not here, not now. There are reasons why I have to make my stand and oppose you. It’s more personal than serving the department.” The archangel’s swift attack on a military convoy, the deaths of innocents, and the killing of his father-in-law were scenes that were burned into his memory. Being a witness to those losses would make their dying in vain.

Hunter stood up and approached him, stopping halfway when Loona growled. “We’ve been through much to be on opposite sides. Hell, I practically helped raise you since Sukhoi took you in. I don’t want to kill you. What reason do you have to refuse us?”

“These people you’re working with, they killed the colonel,” Artyom answered with a venomous distaste for the memory he was forced to mention.

“Mel’nikov?” His eyes widened, understanding and realizing the scope of his vengeance, “I didn’t even know.”

The blonde man behind the veteran Polis Ranger let out a deep breath. “Enough! Either you step forward or we kill you where you stand.”

“Don’t do this.”

“Unfortunately,” Artyom began, accepting that deep down, the alternative was worse than the option of fighting to the death, “This choice is mine to make.”

Angel Dust let out a small laugh. “Well, Vaggie, it was nice of you and Charlie to welcome me. You at least deserve to hear that.”

“Gentlemen, you know what to do.” Ordered the leader of this opposition as the sounds of safeties began to click.

It was tempting to resign one’s self to a doomed fate; yet, the former post-apocalypse survivor would still take at least one life in what would become his final death. There would be no mercy between those present. Hunter appeared to be ashamed as he lowered his head and brought his hand over his face. Their friendship was not enough to spare one another from bloodshed.

The radio on Artyom’s person had crackled as Pavel’s voice seeped a glimmer of hope from disaster. “Chuvak, we’re coming in!”

A loud crash erupted and shook the building as a brief window of opportunity arrived. He looked up at the soldiers behind the railing on the second floor turning their heads at this new distraction. Instincts of survival made him grab his sinner and Hellborn companions, throwing them into a nearby room to his left for the safety of cover. Gunfire erupted as men screamed to the top of their lungs but a brief glimpse caught sight of a lithe woman with blades extending from her arms. She had jumped from one end of the railing to the other while an eviscerated corpse dropped to the ground floor. As soon as the blur of black and purple landed, flashes of gunfire flickered against the reflection of the ceiling.

“Comrade, we’ll deal with these guys. Go get the others!”

Glass shattered as a firefight ensued between the assailants and the investigator’s rescuers. Yet, the Chaos of the fighting was not able to drown out the quick shuffling of Hunter and his superior from running up the stairs, deeper into the unknown layout of the second floor.

The disguised investigator rushed after them and he fired his weapon on them. Out from behind, he could hear Vaggie’s voice call for him but he ignored her pleas in the hope of chasing his fleeing prey. Despite his efforts to catch them off-guard, the blonde soldier returned fire with a burst from his MP5 submachine gun as the impact of the bullets staggered the Russian in his tracks. While Artyom regained his balance, the duo reached the top of the stairs and quickly fled the scene while more of their men followed in the wake of the counter-ambush.

He made his way up the stairs with haste as his business with Hunter still remained. The betrayal instilled vigor in his veins as he continued to press forward. Upon arriving at the top, he looked back upon the railings to see the bodies of the rank-and-file focus entirely on the women who had lifted one of their own with her arm blades and tossed him another. The disguised saved immediately recognized the woman from the safehouse, sensing that the Department of Purgatory was well aware enough to deploy his team to rescue him from eternal death. Heading Pavel’s last words, he pursued with haste.

Gunfire rippled throughout the building as he searched through the mansion room-by-room and navigated the various hallways leading into different wings. The lonely search made him think about Vaggie, Angel Dust, and Loona when he was confronted by Hunter by those stairs. There could be no future where his friendship could last due to his identity being compromised. Once the dust settles and the last bullet is fired from this incident, the department will change its assignment to maintain its policy. Thoughts such as these made him wonder if Verosika and Mayberry would feel broken by this artificial abandonment.

Artyom turned around the corner of a hallway to find the blond commander and several more surviving soldiers in black uniforms on the other side. They were so eager to leave until he heard the American accent shout. “C’mon, we got to get these imps out of here!”

Two men were carrying short and red-skinned creatures in their arms before his eyes recognized the knocked-out bodies of Moxxie and Millie. They were here all along and this instance might be his only chance to rescue him. So he marched forward and raised his carbine, tightly holding on to the grip and trigger, and flicked his weapon’s fire mode to burst. A single pull of the trigger released three bullets from the barrel as the velocity of the rounds flew ahead mortally wounding two men amid the crowd.

“Shit, I thought I nailed the fucker. Shadow Company, hose this fucking hallway!”

Six men attempted to form a firing line in vain hope of delaying him. Despite their numbers, aspects of the Russian’s old life had instinctively turned on as his reaction to the trigger was faster than they anticipated. One by one, each man was struck down in quick precision as their bodies slumped to the ground while the others departed around the right corner of the hallway. He followed after them, his veins burned with hatred, carrying a fury unlike any other.

It was strange to feel this flight that he had never experienced before but he did not complain. If it meant that he would rescue the two imps, then this holy wrath of his was one to embrace. Artyom had run throughout the decrepit building, only to be led into a greenhouse garden filled with various plants settled into neat rows. He observed the scenery, noting every detail, to find a few instances of broken branches and a figure of a man lying down on his stomach. The sight of a barrel sticking out was enough for the pursuer to kneel as he brought his M4’s sights onto the hiding soldier. A burst was all he could squeeze from his weapon as he watched the bullets land on the target’s shoulders.

After the killing was done, Artyom caught a glimpse of several shadows and figures rising up from the dirt and converging on the far side of the garden. He rose up before the cry of an engine whine spurred to life and bellowed a ferocious roar. His eyes saw an oncoming vehicle from the left accelerate at such speeds smashing into the glass and running over all in its path. Shards of glass kicked up into the air as he flicked the fire mode on his carbine and held down the trigger. Yet, the SUV remained unharmed save for the few scratches the bullets could harm. He could see Hunter behind the driver’s seat, manning the wheel. Their conflict had finally come down to being nothing more than a pedestrian at the mercy of wild driving.

The former Polis Ranger found himself diving out of the way as he almost turned out to be roadkill. On the ground, he reached for his weapon, only to find that it had been lost and out of reach. Then he heard the car stop and its door swing open before he looked back to see Hunter walk up to him with his assault rifle ready. Turning around, he was ready to face him as the old soldier stopped and towered over him. “So this is what it has come to? What exactly did you do to deserve serving them?”

“I made a deal, Artyom,” He said with a tone of shame. His words filled with sorrow, “I fell in love with a sinner and in order for her soul to be saved, they expected me to do my job.”

“So you made a damned deal.” It was a hard moment for him to accept but knowing that his fellow’s reason, it was hard to blame him.

“Such is life for men like us. Had I known better and learned about Mel’nikov’s fate, things would have been different. I’m sorry, Artyom.”

“So am I,” There was a trick up his sleeve, never did he think he would use it until now. The strange weapon that had become a part of him since the raid on the demon hunters still remained. So his hand reached out and the mind willed the two-handed sword to materialize into his grip. Then he made a meager sword swipe while Hunter’s eyes widened with surprise. He tried to raise his assault rifle from his side but the younger man sat up and watched as the Heaven-blessed sword made a long horizontal tear across his chest, “So am I.”

The foe stumbled back and seemed to cease carrying his firearm before stumbling against the armored SUV behind him. Leaning back, the defeated and wounded soldier smiled as he bled. Artyom rose from the ground brought both of his hands on the sword’s grips and pointed the weapon at him. Blood began to leak through his mouth while he reached for a bracelet on his wrist and removed it. The Hell form transformed into a dying man and his last breaths. “You got me this time. We both know that I’m not walking out of this alive. Finish this.”

Those last words became the catalyst for the Russian to push the sword through and into the chest of a man he so admired when he was younger. The blade found itself stopped when the flesh was held back by the parrying hooks. In this one single moment, the memories of all the times he spent with this man flowed like a river breaking the damn as tears began to form. Hunter appeared to accept the unfortunate reality of what had happened as his hand reached out and placed itself on the shoulder of his admirer.

“I don’t have a lot of time left and this will be the last time we’ll ever see each other. I’m proud of you, kid. Whatever happens, I hope you get to live a life we never had the chance to enjoy. You earned th-” The words he tried to force from his gut were never realized in the end as the remaining life failed and the man succumbed to his wounds. Artyom could feel the hand on his shoulder slip off as blood stained his military uniform and a turmoil of emotions forced himself to pull the zweihander out from the corpse of this fatherly figure. He had just killed his hero and did not know how to process that feeling.

The radio sparkled to life as Tony’s exhausted voice chimed in. “We’ve encircled the perimeter. What’s the status on the imps and the others?”

“Got them,” Uhlman answered as gunfire roared throughout the communication, “Pavel and a Hellhound managed to intercept their vehicle as a convoy drove out of here. We don’t know where they’re heading but the two imps are out of their custody.”

“Thanks for the report. Damn, I’m going to have to explain this shitshow to Azrael.”

Chapter Text

The ambush did not fare well and Graves’ blood boiled at how the situation panned out. Hunter’s insistence on convincing his friend to join their side was a catastrophe; yet, it wasn’t even the worst of outcomes from the failed ambush. The Department of Purgatory had clashed against the ranks of Heaven once again, a factor he didn’t consider when they lured the man in with those two imps. It was bad enough that some of their operations were blatantly interrupted by Azrael’s people catching on and collecting evidence for their investigation. If mistakes like these continued to build up, it was only a matter of time before the chance to end Lucifer and his reign over Hell be a wishful dream for those who still wanted to destroy the dark realm.

His convoy of six vehicles had finally returned to their warehouse as the disguised servants of Heaven dismounted and made their way inside. No one was allowed to dilly-dally outside of the building for it would garner attention from the sinners and Hellborn alike. Once the last man had entered and closed the door on the way in, the survivors took off their bracelets as their Hell forms transitioned from various embodiments of sinful creatures into the sight of a professional military outfit.

Adam stood at the center of the warehouse, accompanied by Lute and a dozen exterminator angels at his back. There, the first man of humanity produced a stern expression but the former mercenary leader knew he would only provide disappointment to his superior. Then the blessed man remarked on the very reason they entertained that ambush in the first place.  “Hunter is not with you. So, I presume he is dead.”

“Yes, sir,” Graves acknowledged as he began to summarize the events that transpired at the abandoned estate, “We lured the targets into our reach through the kidnapping of two imps - employees of I.M.P. - and ended up having Hunter’s friend and some of his buddies dead to rights. What we didn’t anticipate was the department’s intervention.”

He raised his eyebrows, expressing curiosity as he crossed his arms. “Were you able to identify any important individuals among them?”

The question was enough to spark his memories amid the chaotic firefights. “The same outfit that reclaimed the weapon shipment we stole from the Seraphim guard. There was also the Gendarmes and Tony, meaning he was personally involved in hunting us down.”

“It is as I have feared. Azrael’s department continues to hound us wherever we go. You are fortunate that you’ve lived and no one tracked you down.”

“So what happens now?” Plans were meant to be discarded when the enemy’s say in the matter destroyed any further possibilities of success. Graves would follow Adam to the ends of reality as long as his plans continued to bear results, even if some of his measures would be considered questionable in the eyes of the saved, redeemed, and the Heavenborn. There had to be a secondary chance in case these setbacks occurred.

The air inside the room began to shift and Adam’s face was taken aback when a bright flash flickered from behind the mercenary commander. Graves turned around as his men stepped aside for the sight of an angelic being descending to the ground. Burning blue wings attached to a suit of silver armor lined with gold. It was tempting to raise his hand and give his eyes a chance but that would merely offend the man who was in charge of these operations in the first place. A commanding voice emanated from within his helm, revealing the holy intent that would soon come. “I have seen what has transpired for you and your men. A failure it was but I have been granted insight. My brother intends to continue with his investigation and has done enough to earn the ears of all those present at the Council of Archangels. Our time in the shadows is over, we must act in the name of the Holy Father and cleanse Hell once and for all by starting with Lucifer.”

“Are we going on the offensive?” He wondered, curious as to what that entailed for their group was merely a splinter of the Holy Army. They wouldn’t have the assets commanded by Michael lest the situation encouraged them to finally reveal their intentions. “You sure we’re ready?”

“Absolutely. The more that Azrael continues to uncover our operations, the less we have available to kidnapping Charlie and lure the fallen one from his well-defended palace. Speed and surprise are our weapons and will play an instrumental role in catching everyone off-guard. Get some rest, I will be gathering our personnel and assets for what will come.”

He raised his hand and saluted his superior. “Understood, Archangel Gabriel.”

It had been a relief to rescue Moxxie and Millie from their kidnappers but Loona found herself caught up in what seemed to be Railtracer’s affairs. When they were confronted at the mansion, she found that it was the first time that she had ever heard of the sinner’s true name ever since he joined I.M.P. Her gut churned and turned with a queasy uneasiness as she, the imps, and the other sinners from the Hazbin Hotel were brought into an undisclosed building in Pentagram City. The people who had come to their rescue carried a unique scent that she only associated with blessed weaponry. At this very building, the denizens of Hell were cordoned off in what seemed to be a lunch room as her two coworkers dozed off in their comatose state beside her, holding themselves up by leaning against each other. It was likely that they were drugged before being brought along by their captors.

Sitting across the table from the Hellhound were the two sinners known as Angel Dust and Vaggie. Their names were quite famous thanks to their relationship with the princess of Hell - the former being a test subject for redemption and the latter a girlfriend. They seemed far more alarmed than they were inside the car, stealing glances and hostile looks at the human beings passing by and raiding the kitchen for food. “Are you two alright? You don’t seem to be okay with these humans.”

The moth girl turned her full attention upon her while expressing her unsure looks at her saviors. “A lot just happened. Not too long ago, we were visited by some strangers claiming to be the Department of Purgatory. Then we just found out your sinner coworker works for them.”

“Who exactly are these guys?” This was news to her. From the sound of their name, they were an organization but for what purpose?

“They work for Heaven,” Angel Dust answered as he paused to look around the room. Then he looked back at her and continued, “When they arrived at the hotel, they knew everyone’s names there. My guess is, they’re the ones who sent us here in the first place.”

Someone approached their table as the clinking of metal and the smell of a baked pastry reached her nose. Loona looked to her right to find a human wearing a brown and dirty trench coat. Stains of blood were etched into his blue jeans and a black layer of armor was strapped over his chest. The only sign of his humanity was his blue eyes and hazel hair as he carried a metal folding chair in one hand and a plate full of spinach puffs in the other. “You are correct indeed.”

“Tony?”

The very fact that the homosexual pornstar knew of him probably meant that he was the one who visited Charlie’s place. “I didn’t think we would meet again but here we are.”

“Are you going to tell us what happened back there?” Vaggie asked, her tone seemingly annoyed at the presence of this man as he unfolded his chair and sat down at his end of the table. He placed the plate containing the pile of spinach puffs and slid it over to the Hellborn and sinners.

“Ma’am, you are asking me a lot to break some rules established by my department. That being said, all of you at least deserve an explanation,” Tony’s exhausted eyes seemed to scan at those present at the table before he exhaled, “All of you got caught up in the department’s affairs involving an intensive investigation that no one in Hell is aware of… until now.”

It was indeed a revelation of information but everything about his sentence felt as if he still was willing to hide the details away from him. She could press him to spill more but somehow being in a room containing humans armed with blessed weaponry made her cautious. What she could ask about was the man who called himself Railtracer and the men who tried to kill them. Now that she thought about it, where was he? “They called someone we know an investigator. Does that ring a bell to you?”

“You’re talking about Railtracer, aren’t you?” The Hellhound acknowledged his question with a nod of the head.

“A guy named Hunter knew him as Artyom,” Angel seemed to have remembered that detail when they were confronted, “Care to explain that?”

Tony looked down at the table and closed his eyes for a brief moment until his head was erected and ready to address them. “An investigator is someone in the Department of Purgatory who goes into Hell to investigate any involving souls within our bureaucracy to undo the mistake of a soul accidentally sent there. Artyom, the man you know as Railtracer, is one of our people operating as one.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. I thought that he was one of Lucifer’s agents.” Vaggie expressed her confusion as she leaned forward her head able to take a long look at the man.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe he was bullshitting you to hide his identity?”

Loona stole a glance from the sinner, finding her bemused. “You encourage lying?”

“We’re saved souls, not saints,” He said with a hearty laugh but then his emotions darkened from his self-made comedy, “Ever since Lucifer signed the ceasefire agreement with the Council of Archangels, the department has had a policy of maintaining absolute secrecy unless we want to risk the ruler of Hell to reignite the War in Heaven Two - Electric Boogaloo. It wasn’t until the two demon hunters and a cherub were accidentally brought into your hotel that we ended up breaking our own rule.”

“Well, if Rail-” Vaggie cut herself off before correcting herself, “So, where is Artyom?”

The saved soul leaned over to the point of hunching his back. “Cleaning himself up. One of the guys here told me that he killed someone he genuinely cared about. I don’t know what’s going through his mind but I would be the same if I was in his shoes.”

“Sounds like you care about him. Must have been impressive for him to leave an impression on you. Even when we didn’t know who he was, Artyom must have been genuinely a nice guy in life.” She conveyed to the man in charge while Loona could resonate with her. After all, the disguised man did go out of his way to help rescue Blitzo when he was kidnapped.

“Can’t say you’re wrong. He was willing to sacrifice his spot in Heaven to save a sinner from eternal damnation. The only reason he’s even working for us is for a matter far too personal to explain.”

Did she hear that right? This man was willing to forgo Heaven’s salvation in exchange for another’s soul? The concept was too far-fetched; yet, the Russian’s actions against D.H.O.R.K.S. finally made sense. All that mattered was the reason he was disguised as an employee in her dad’s business. “So why did you have him work for us then?”

“Your question is asking me to divulge classified information,” Tony replied, a sign that he could not answer everything and explain the details to her. Much to her surprise, he continued, “What I can say is that our investigation required the department to run through a list of suspects and I.M.P were at the top of our shitlist so-to-speak. After all, your business involved a group of Hellborn hitmen going into the mortal plane and assassinating humans whose souls will have their names land on our desks. Every single kill reminds us that there’s a group of imps who are trying to get around some rules.”

“Oh.” That was the word she could rummage summon in response to the saved as she understood what that implied. Despite Blitzo’s efforts to keep their presence minimized, Heaven was already aware of what they were doing to make a living.

“We frown on that tomfuckery but fortunate for Blitzo, dealing with you four isn’t under our department.”

Angel Dust managed to sneak in a laugh as he enjoyed the Hellhound’s embarrassment at that moment. Yet, he had questions of his own that seemed to reveal much about Heaven’s views of the dark realm. “It’s weird that you’re hands-off and sound less like an asshole compared to the exterminators.”

“That’s because they don’t spend as much time in Hell compared to our organization.” He explained before reaching for one of the spinach puffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Questioned the pink spider as he crossed his arms, “Are you trying to say that you don’t look eye-to-eye with those freaks?”

“Pretty much. Those zealots tend to act high and might that they’re killing sinners in Pride before leaving. Us? We infiltrate ourselves into your society and get connected with the people who fell there. Some of us end up making friends, other times, our investigators get a bit more intimate. Officially, it’s discouraged but Azrael doesn’t enforce that policy as often despite it existing since the beginning.”

When he took a bite from his pastry, it gave Loona a moment to think about the disguised agent she once called a coworker. Artyom had managed to more or less befriend everyone present but then Verosika Mayday arrived and made a scene with her dad. Were those feelings he had truly genuine?

“Any more questions?”

“I do,” The moth girl answered, her eyes lit up as if she had taken serious thought into it, “Why exactly did Artyom get placed in the Hazbin Hotel? Did you see our advertisement and want to help Charlie’s hotel?”

Tony shook his head as he finished clearing his mouth. “It wasn’t really that. When we were setting up Artyom’s background as a sinner trying to look for a job at I.M.P, the outfit trying to make things work had ended up getting expensive apartments and brand-new sports cars. Of course, I never approved since it would make Blitzo look bad that his newest employee was earning more than he could ever make. So we just settled at the Hazbin ever since.”

“So that means you weren’t really interested in redeeming sinners then. Are we just some kind of joke to your people then?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that. The Archangel of Death might tear me a new one but that princess deserves to hear it if we ever send you back,” That piqued the Hellhound’s interest as all eyes fell on him with his chest armor covered in crumbs, “There is such a thing as redemption and sinners can be redeemed from Hell but it’s a very extensive process.”

The sinners across from her had their eyes lit up. Loona recalled that advertisement on the television but the idea of sinners going to Heaven was a naive far-fetched idea. It was fiction in Hell until he admitted to their ears and who could blame them for their reaction as they now had a hint of hope for their soul? “You’re telling them upfront?”

“There’s no harm in granting a little bit of hope. Besides, if Charlie ever wants to be in the business of helping sinners out of Hell, there are little details she needs to know.” He admitted before stealing a glance at her with a smile.

Then the sound of Angel’s stomach growling with eager hunger. Tony began to crack into laughter as he rose from his chair and slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat. She continued to observe his mannerisms, noting how relaxed his shoulders were. Somehow, he could be trusted even though he got to know the group in so little time.

“Okay, you guys should eat. I got to deal with some department stuff but if anyone here needs anything or has questions, ask the people around here for me. I’ll do what I can to address what’s needed.”

The moth sinner stood up and stared at him. “Before you go, what if we want to leave and go back to our lives?”

“You can leave our safe house under one condition, maintain your silence about the existence of our organization as much as possible. That’s all I ask from all of you since I’m willing to break our protocols,” He answered before looking over to the Hellhound and the imps sleeping beside her, “Especially you three as I’ve had to put a little extra effort cleaning up after I.M.P.”

It was weird to be called out but she knew there had to be repercussions for her dad’s somewhat not-so-legal business. The fact that he was asking for them to shut up about what she just experienced seemed merciful to a hidden group that had been watching them from the shadows.

The Macho Machine continued to thrive off the back of a popstar’s work but not on this day. V1 stood behind the glass door and turned the hanging sign to inform would-be customers about its temporary closure. This was the one day that the machine would get to itself, using the time to manage the affairs of the business and determine its daughter’s choices. As it turned around, it’s visual sensors saw Verosika sitting in the corner booth to the left side and on the far side of the room. With earbuds in, her head moved gracefully to match the rhythmic beats while her eyes focused on the table and read various piles of papers.

It approached her, the machine’s ‘feet’ tapping against the tile floor before it slipped into the booth and sat across from it’s daughter. The succubus singer noticed it’s arrival and raised her head while removing the devices from her ears. “Dad, are you not working?”

“I decided to take the day off,” There were additional factors at play. Ever since she introduced the ancient war machine to her boyfriend, V1 was able to record a significant positive change in it’s daughter’s emotional outlook. Now that the concert was over, what option would she decide upon? “How was the time spent with this Railtracer?”

Verosika leaned back against the leather and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you judging my choice of lovers?”

“No! I didn’t mean to imply that,” Rather the machine desired to understand whether she was genuinely happy, “Are you happy with him?”

“Aside from the decent sex with him, he’s a lot more considerate about me than Blitzo. Like, I don’t meet a lot of guys who’ll say they’re sorry after they shot you. I mean, he was willing to talk to me about my Beelzebub addiction.”

If V1 could form a facial expression, it would be smiling. It’s daughter had been drinking much since the break-up which allowed her to embrace a rather toxic attitude; however, the disguised redeemed seemed to have a profound effect on her. “That’s good to hear. After the concert, I did talk with him and he seemed like a caring person.”

“You can say that again,” She said before adding a chuckle, “Odd that a guy like him would be in Hell of all places. It almost makes me wonder if he deserves to be here. What do you think, dad?”

The machine knew the truth but it also knew the price of revealing that information. There will come a time but it vowed to maintain that secrecy lest the agents of the Department of Purgatory attempt to seek out their leak. It thought about the man and developed a phrase to ensure it would not offend the succubus, all of which are based on previous experiences. “In all my time in Hell, I’ve come across some sinners who have gentle hearts for others; yet, are damned forever for their inability or unwillingness to save themselves. They are a rare sort who are capable of good but weighed down by their misdeeds.”

“That’s an interesting food for thought. Why haven’t you told me this to anyone?

“I’m a machine with a reputation,” V1 reminded her of what it was and how Hell viewed it’s existence, “Almost everyone in the Dark Realm would see me and run for their lives, not seek out a philosophical discussion with an ancient war machine.”

Her phone beeped as she reached inside her pocket and pulled it out. Soon, she began to start texting away without consideration for her adoptive dad’s unfinished conversation but perhaps it was never meant to continue. It didn’t mind that rude behavior for she was busy with more tangible problems in her life. There was no need to press her for that.

Sensors within the machine began to activate underneath the blue metal frame as it detected multiple signatures. Internal diagnostics began to inspect within to determine the cause of this strange behavior. What was occurring to earn this development? When the diagnostics finished studying it’s systems, no errors were found save for a sudden rise of electronic networks based on the frequencies only found in the Holy Army.

There’s coincidence and then there was a sign that a major event was taking place. What that consisted of, required introspection and perhaps a reach out to the organization the machine had paid no mind about until now. A multitude of theoretical events played out within it’s cognitive functions, mostly about Heaven breaking the status quo it silently established in Hell. There were possibilities of Hell acting in response; however, the likelihood of Lucifer antagonizing his former brethren and the Holy Father couldn’t be considered due to the yearly exterminations hampering the armies of the dark realm from an advantageous position to launch an invasion.

If the conflict was to be had, V1 needed to seek out the armory and prepare it’s weaponry for the times to come. More importantly, Verosika needed to be out of the line of fire as much as possible. She was too important to the machine as an adoptive father and her friends could use that protection as well.

“I’m sorry about that. Just got a text from Kiki that Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench are going to see me at 666 News,” She explained before placing the phone on the table and looking at him, “Are you okay? I’ve never seen you like this.”

The machine deactivated its diagnostic software and turned to it’s daughter. “Something came up and I wanted to see why. Fortunately, everything’s fine as I’ve managed to work it over.”

“Well, I want your thoughts on whether or not I should go and meet the sinner casters.”

“Bring a friend with you,” After the latest developments, it was safer this way. On the other hand, it was a performance that allowed it to act like a caring father. Plus, it had seen how they acted when Princess Charlie was on their set, “They’re conniving bastards to their guests at times.”

She chuckled in response to it’s statements. “Those conniving bastards didn’t have to worry about you.”

Artyom stood inside the bathroom as his hands were pressed against the porcelain sink. His body was fresh from a warm shower but it was not enough to wash away the memory of killing Hunter. Back in his regular form, the former Polis Ranger stared at himself in the mirror while contemplating the dark deed he committed against a man he once revered as his hero. The pain remained and guilt rested upon his shoulders. He wanted to cry and take the time to release it all in a single sitting but he could not.

What was clear was that Hunter’s death remained at the hands of those who killed Colonel Mel’nikov. Whoever had brought his friend into their fold would pay a harsh price for shaping those events. There was much to be done and he would not rest until their deaths were avenged. He wanted to proclaim that he would go so far as to embrace eternal death; however, the Russian took the time to pause in that one moment. His mind thought back on the two women who opened their hearts ever since he left Anna’s side - Verosika and Mayberry. They do not know about his identity nor the personal vendetta he was waging but he had not the courage to be inconsiderate of their feelings.

If only he could tell them the truth.

He saw the dog tags with the symbol of the Spartan Rangers dangling from his neck and felt the urge to tear it off and throw it away. Yet, he could not stomach the idea of throwing away one of the few pieces of his old life that had accompanied him into death. After all, it was the very motif that defined the start of his adventurous life to his final last minutes. Artyom knew he would not be the man that he is now without Hunter’s great influence on his life.

None of the department’s most classified operations wouldn’t matter to him if it wasn’t for that damned attack. The memory of the angelic figure killing innocents and witnesses alike erupted into his head like a flaring wound. His blood boiled at his inability to save them from their doom while the grip on the sink tightened. Yet, this feeling of holy wrath seemed to have taken over as his rage made him blink his eyes for a brief second and see himself in a mirror, only to catch a glimpse of a warrior in a suit of armor and his two-handed sword hanging from his back. He blinked once more, only to feel normal again as the great tension in his body sizzled away like a small piece of iron cooling off in a pile of snow.

The investigator wanted to believe that his eyes were playing tricks on him but he knew better than to doubt his senses.

Now that he was finished with his business in the bathroom, Artyom unlocked the door and was about to step into the hallway. Then he found Vaggie standing at the doorway, her eyes began to enlarge thanks to his presence upon seeing him. They had not spoken a word to each other since the search on the estate and he did not know how to address the matter properly without jeopardizing his relationship with the sinners and Hellborn he befriended.

She too seemed unable to summon the courage to bring the words until her mouth finally uttered a sound. “Artyom? Is that your name?”

He gestured his head to acknowledge this truth.

“So, you weren’t really a sinner, were you? Just an agent for this Department of Purgatory?”

Artyom nodded, knowing that there was no reason to maintain the masquerade he had forged when he was disguised as a sinner. “I apologize for the deception. I know to some degree that you and Charlie expected me to be honest to her and everyone at the Hazbin Hotel but-”

“No need,” The moth raised her hand for him to stop as she cut him off, “Charlotte would understand if she was here but it’s definitely different to see you now. What I want to know is whether or not you were genuine with helping us when it mattered.”

“I’m not understanding.” He said, perplexed by her meaning. Some clarification would help jog his mind.

“When Angel Dust was kidnapped, did you really care about rescuing him or was it fake?”

She had dropped a nuclear bomb on him but the Russian took a minute to think about it for a brief moment. That time when he, Uhlman, and Pavel were ready to fight and die on behalf of the homosexual gangster. It was tempting to smile at that memory but it would not be appropriate based on her question. For this matter, there was nothing complicated about his justifications and motivations.  “I was doing everything in my power to save his life.”

“Why though? What reason do you have to save sinners like us?” Vaggie asked as the philosophical discussion jogged back to his memory. The weight of his deeds damned him until he was able to overturn his fate by saving a young angel to absolve his soul. Then the wisdom of that strange Mongolian man in his past affected him.

“There was once a time when I was destined to damnation for what I did in life. The line between a saved and a sinful soul is no different than the door separating this room from the hallway. “

He saw her smile as she looked down on the floor. “Quite the analogy there. Charlie would have loved those words. So what will become of you now that we know your identity.”

“I don’t know what Tony has told you,” The aura of the atmosphere faded from a thoughtful conversation as he knew what the future had in store for him, “but I have some personal business that I will see to its end, one that involves blood.”

“You’re on a path to vengeance.” It looked like she could see through to his intentions. Quite an admirable trait and one that the princess of Hell would enjoy having if he spoke of it. Presuming he never got the chance to talk to her again. All that was left was to convey his real feelings.

“You have no idea.”

“Do you care to talk about it?”

The only ones who knew about his reasons were Azrael and Tony. Her offer to hear out his problems was tempting but the relevant information was too close to the investigation he was set on carrying out. He shook his head, denying her that opportunity. “I’m afraid it’s not something I can tell you in the first place. Security as you know.”

“I hope they won’t punish you for revealing your identity.” She seemed genuine with her words and he could appreciate the sentiment.

“Thank you.”

Artyom left the bathroom and strode towards his bunk within the safe house. The fallout of such consequences would resurface and his soul would be judged for helping sinners and demons.

It had been another exhausting day at work as Maria climbed up the steps to her apartment. Her hands had been weighed by the bags of groceries, which she had bought on the way back. Most of it had been frozen meals ready to be cooked through a microwave with the rest being raw vegetables and meats at a discount. She couldn’t afford to be luxurious, especially in this economy, but this was better than having no food around. With her and her boyfriend pitching in when they could, the cost of living could be mitigated. Though, she never really figured out what he did for a living, only that it raked in the money when it mattered.

Once the Mexican had arrived at the door, she unlocked it and quickly entered with the hope of tossing all the bags on the kitchen floor. She looked to her left to find that the sink hadn’t been clean, along with the dirty dishes waiting for their week-old smells to be washed out. It was usually Hunter’s job to make sure they were clean before she came home to start cooking. Perhaps he was working overtime to give her a nice bonus?

The open door creaked as she heard it close shut from behind her back. A chill ran down her spine as she recognized that someone had closed her apartment but it was not her. It couldn’t have been Hunter for he loved her too much to play tricks such as this. So it all came down to the unfortunate reality that her home contained an intruder and that stranger was waiting for her. Maria thought this was a thief for money but even they knew better than to stay behind and cause a ruckus. Her body trembled as the Calavera turned around and turned to face the newcomer. Unsure of what to expect from the intruder.

Beside the door from where she came from was a man wearing a black uniform with a kevlar vest across his torso. His face was nothing more than a grey ski mask with a pair of goggles keeping his gaze from showing. On top of his head was a ballistic helmet, revealing his military background while a blessed assault rifle was slung around his neck and his hands resting atop the weapon. His body composure seemed relaxed in the wooden chair that had been certainly removed from elsewhere. “So, this is where you and your boyfriend live.”

“W-Who are you?” The woman was struggling to speak as she was at her most vulnerable.

“A former associate of Hunter,” He began as he sat upright and straightened his back all while brandishing a pistol from his holster and a suppressor from his pockets. Then he began to screw the two pieces together and continued, “He never spoke about his job but he did speak about you. As it turns out, his job involved working with an established member of Heaven and doing his job to obtain the status of a redeemed sinner. Now, your significant other did indeed achieve that and was trying to earn a spot in the good place for you as well.”

It all sounded surreal. Heaven never cared about sinners, except for Extermination Day… unless that was the crowd her love had surrounded himself with. Part of her wanted to feel some relief at hearing this news; however, the nameless man seemed to express a darker intention. “I sense there is something wrong here.”

“You have no idea. What he was willing to do was to do everything he was asked to do on behalf of your soul. The problem is, he failed.”

“Where is he then?” The mention of failure was an ominous sign that it could have been connected with him not returning home. Hopefully, she was not asking too much about him, “Did he send for you?”

He chuckled but it brought Maria no comfort with the tone. “He’s dead. None of this wouldn’t have happened if he just did his job but he hesitated on a high-value target and got himself killed because it involved a friend. This means, my people have to do a bit of cleanup… starting with you. Hunter bet your life that he would succeed in his duties and now you have to pay the price.”

The news broke her and the woman collapsed to her knees. Finding a lover in Hell, one who truly resonated with another’s soul was a difficult treasure to obtain she had him wrested away from her heart. Grief consumed the woman as tears were released on the account that he was one of the people who gave her a reason to keep living in this damned existence. Now that he was truly gone, there was no point in continuing, and begging to be spared was out of the question. Hunter was dead and Maria was left to suffer the consequences.

“I’m sad to say that he seemed like a decent guy,” The soldier rose from the chair and walked towards her as he fastened the suppressor into place. Then a small click erupted as he towered over her and fully extended his arm out, aiming his pistol at her forehead, “This is the least I could do for you.”

She closed her eyes and accepted the fate that was coming to her. Perhaps there was a solace to be had in eternal death, the pain of Hunter no longer aching.

A minute passed her senses felt an immediate change in the atmosphere where the temperature dropped and apartment lighting seemed to dim. The wind howled inside the building but she did not expect a reaction from what might have seemed to be her executioner. “What the fuck?!”

Morbid curiosity caused Maria to open her eyes as a blur of black and silver rushed from her left. The man’s arm had been cut as he began to take two steps back and acknowledge the injury of losing a piece of himself and bleeding profusely before her. Blood splattered on her as his other hand immediately reached for the missing limb while he screamed in disbelief. His eyes focused entirely on the ever-increasing pool of blood that stained her home.

The creaking of floorboards and heavy footsteps revealed another had entered her home unannounced she froze in place, both confused and terrified at this rapidly changing situation. Then a dark hooded figure approached them as the individual was clad in tattered black robes. This imposing apparition was far taller than the soldier as it stepped behind him and reached around his neck, revealing a bony hand cupping the chin and raising it to reveal his neck. Another came from his cloak with a steel hand scythe before a single stroke across the jugular unleashed a dam of crimson.

Soon the previous intruder was gently tossed aside as she looked up at the horror that slayed her would-be killer. The kitchen ceiling flickered back to life, revealing a skull hiding underneath the robed figure. She had been petrified and did not know what to do from here on. Yet, her ears heard a calming voice emanate from the individual as the skeletal being retracted the arms and brought the weapon back underneath the black robes. “Be not afraid.”

Those were the last words she heard as shock took over and caused her to faint.

The weapons shipment that was supposed to be sent to the Seraphim Guard had found itself within the inventory of the Department of Purgatory. Yet, despite its prioritization, Azrael had ordered it to be under lock and key with Doctor McClintock tasked with cleaning this arsenal of holy weaponry before it changed hands to the original recipients. Yet, the saved soul didn’t know what he was supposed to look for since his job was to study pieces of evidence for investigations, not performing a security sweep. Nonetheless, he carried out his orders as he arrived at the open garages containing cargo trucks.

Only one soul was present and on duty. A man wearing a green Napoleonic uniform of Britain’s 95th Rifles, his headgear fitted accordingly over his crown and a muzzle-loaded rifle resting in his arms. The sides of his hair revealed a hint of red as the rest remained hidden. One man may not be enough to defend this priority objective but the guard was no mere grunt but a jumped-up officer and gentleman. “Lieutenant Colonel Sharpe, it’s a pleasant surprise to find you here on sentry duty. What’s a man like you doing without company?”

He turned to face him. “Can’t a silly bugger have some time to himself? Besides, I doubt we’ll see any trouble down here.”

If there was one rule McClintock adhered to, it was that he never wrote off a possibility. It helped him in his line of work but also helped him seek out the origin of a problem in his line of work. The analyst walked over to the container door and began to open the mechanism, “After recent events, I wouldn’t try to jinx yourself.”

“Ha, you’re more suspicious than me, you old coot,” The rifleman replied as he gestured a dismissive hand in his direction, “Go do your thing before I lock you in here.”

Sharpe was relaxed, perhaps too relaxed but the saved paid him no attention as he immediately busied himself. Entering the container, the doctor brandished a hand-held flashlight and scoured through each set of weapon racks. Melee weapons or modern firearms, he studied every detail with the precision that only an academic could respect. A few were missing within this inventory but he had been told that some were currently taken by some of the few investigators who found it. The Seraphim Guard would find that discrepancy as an annoyance; however, the old man surmised that Death would convey the finer details about the investigation. After all, the devil is always in the details.

The first half of the container was thoroughly checked out several times until he could not discover anything unusual. With the limited space and the potential to get cut, the rest was much harder to make out as he was now inspecting much more experimental guns or ornamental designs fit for close-quarters combats. Only a historian specialized in various martial arts would be able to make sense of them. However, he had to quietly admit to himself that these were weapons only a king would dream of and perhaps fit for someone to slay one.

The saved could not help himself from pondering on the history of Lucifer and Heaven itself. It was rather ironic and tragic that he was once the head of the Seraphim before his descent into the Dark Realm. That these very guardians of the Garden of Eden were once his soldiers, who were ashamed that their leader betrayed everyone’s loyalty to the hand of Lilith. It was not his place to express his opinion on such a history but one could not help ponder if events would have played out differently to avoid the animosity that lay between Heaven and Hell. Perhaps, it would have prevented the issues that the Department of Purgatory was tasked with solving if open war was not an option.

Soon the last weapon had been looked upon and nothing spectacular of note to report to Archangel Azrael. Many would find it disappointing but the old doctor found relief that if he had found any detail out of place, it would only instill questions of an ever-growing problem since the attack on the convoy. He turned around and began to slip out from the rows and slowly make his way towards the exit. As he reached the end, McClintock was about to seal it shut until his ears heard a low beep on the far side.

Did he miss something? “Sharpe, did you hear that?”

“I was minding my own business but yes I did.” Answered the Napoleonic officer as he crept to his side and they both peeked their heads in.

There was another beep that echoed much louder than before.

“What in the bloody blazes is that?”

“There’s something off about this,” The saved analyst remarked. He had overlooked something and now a device was being activated. Yet, why had it turned on when he and many others ran it over? McClintock stole a glance from the bodyguard, “We need to report this to Azrael, now.”

His words seemed to affect the lone guard, expressing concern about the developing situation. “What should I tell him?”

He was about to make his reply but his eyes saw a glimpse of flashing lights and dozens of figures dressed in uniforms of blue and white. They arrived on the delivery platform, equipped with kevlar and automatic weaponry but the nature of the priority investigation meant that this was no mere visit. A shipment truck entered the garage, obtaining the attention of the arrivals, who immediately turned to see the incoming driver. Gunfire erupted from their weapons as Sharpe turned to see the bullets tear into the driver’s side of the vehicle. Blood splattered against the glass as the truck deviated from its path and crashed into another parked one.

“Shite!” Swore the lieutenant colonel as he cocked his rifle and aimed his weapon. The nearest one seemed to have heard him before the pull of a trigger ignited an outdated weapon against a platoon of Holy Army soldiers. One was struck down as he lay dead on the concrete before the officer grabbed McClintock by the collar and they both rushed for the exit. Assault rifles and submachine guns echoed behind their backs as the analyst found himself petrified at the moment. Yet, they kept running, fleeing from the scene. “An open attack on the department? Bastards they are.”

They encountered a red switch locked behind a metal box in the hallway to their right. Here, they both stopped as the doctor breathed heavily inside his NBC suit, watching his eye sockets fogging up. Meanwhile, he saw the Napoleonic officer smashed into the box with the butt of his rifle and lowered the switch.

Alarms blared but this would signal the rest of the building of what had transpired. The Department of Purgatory was under attack.

Chapter Text

The awakening was something far more than Millie had ever anticipated. Ever since she and her husband tried to take down Striker and were caught by humans hiding out in that apartment, she quietly prayed to Satan that her fury would be unlike anything they had seen. That changed when the married couple woke up to find Loona caring for her and Moxxie. Once her head began to clear up, the duo asked about their whereabouts and why they were under the care of humans. Then they were given the knowledge that they had been put into a deep coma and taken away. So the Hellhound reached out to I.M.P.’s only sinner employee and weapons repairman to search for her. Much to her surprise, they had brought over a famous gay porn star and the girlfriend of Lucifer’s daughter. It was a sweet notion that Railtracer would have his own set of connections to pull, just to rescue two imps.

What occurred after was a long introduction with a group of people who had been watching from the shadows and intervening on their behalf once the rescuers were lured into a trap. As soon as they were free, she and Moxxie were brought over into a secret safe house for a Heaven-based organization known as the Department of Purgatory. The name alone sounded incredibly bureaucratic, even by the standards of Hell. What truly caught Millie’s attention was Loona’s expression as she conveyed her shock at the revelation of information she had been allowed to release.

Heaven had been watching over their assassination business, a concerning matter given the great authority that the Hellborn did not understand. If they intervened against them, Blitzo would be ruined and his relationship with Stolas would cause a great mess. What surprised her was that this department was surprisingly open with their non-involvement, only that they reached out to them due to an investigation of theirs and a coincidence of matters. Ever since the crew encountered C.H.E.R.U.B, she had been wary of earning Heaven’s ire. Yet, Loona’s looks of animosity towards Railtracer didn’t ease the woman.

The Russian sat across from her and presented his left wrist to the table. She took a glance at his arm to find that there had been a strange black bracelet on him as he reached out and removed it from place. A blink of an eye later, the supposed sinner who was wearing a gas mask over his face and a Soviet uniform was replaced with a dark-haired human in a grey turtleneck sweatshirt. The imp could not summon her words as shock took over before Angel Dust stumbled upon them and chimed in on their conversation, revealing that he had been disguised as a sinner. The truth sat across from her but disbelief just couldn’t comprehend that someone so innocuous could be part of a whole far greater than any Hellborn would grasp.

She was not alone in reacting to these developments occurring in what seemed to be a lunchroom. As Angel Dust and Vaggie flanked the Hellborn to their left, Moxxie finally spoke up. He always proclaimed himself to be a rational being who liked to explain more about an issue in a sophisticated manner but this was not that day. “You fucking lied to us?”

Millie looked across from her to see what the human had to say in return. She could see that her husband’s words stung him. A look of shame as his tired eyes of Railtracer’s true form maintained eye contact, carrying a pain that he never revealed to the other employees of I.M.P. “Moxxie-”

“Blackguard,” He cut him off, angrily while clambering out from his seat to take his first few steps across the table, “We trusted you. How could you deceive us?”

“It’s part of my job as an investigator. Until recently, we have to maintain the secrecy of our existence to the rest of Hell.” Answered Railtracer, if that was even his name, “Even if I wanted to, my department would make sure there would be consequences.”

Millie had been so focused on the man across from her that she failed to see a bearded man, wearing a uniform of black and white camo, approach their table from the far side of the lunch room. The moment he spoke, his Russian accent appeared. “I suppose everyone here is having a fun conversation.”

“Huh? This isn’t your business.” Moxxie turned to find the stranger standing behind their former coworker and crossing his arms.

“Artyom and I knew each other back when he was alive,” He answered, revealing the man’s identity as he towered over those present in the room, “So it is my business to chime in on his behalf.”

She sensed that these two carried a relationship. “I take that you two were friends.”

“We were. Artyom and I fought in the same outfit together. At some point, I died and he married our commanding officer’s daughter.” It was weird to see him casually address their coworker. Then again, they never did properly hang out with the man formerly known as Railtracer.

“Then why was he going undercover?” The wife asked of him, hoping to learn more about these Heavenly souls. There were few reference points to help connect the logic of why they were deemed important, given that I.M.P. had been breaking the rules for some time, “I know Moxxie is a bit hostile about it but is there anything you can tell us?”

“I can’t say any specifics but it’s a matter that we have to personally solve. His father-in-law, my former commanding officer in life, was killed at a scene. So really, we’re trying to avenge him.”

“Uhlman!” Artyom turned to face the man with a scowl, “Are you even allowed to tell them that? What would Tony say?”

His response was a small chuckle as he shook his head at the question before directing his gaze upon his friend. “I’ll handle that problem. Right now, your friends have some questions they want answers to. As much as the department hates having a bunch of assassins prematurely sending souls to the afterlife, they’re innocents who were caught up in our affairs.”

“I don’t believe Heaven would help a couple of imps out. Don’t you guys see us as the embodiment of evil?” Moxxie expressed his disbelief as he took in this newfound information.

“You’re the embodiment of sin, not evil,” He replied as he walked back and forth from one side of the lunchroom to the other. His hands reached over to his head, stroking his beard while speaking his mind, “Besides, when you operate long enough in Hell, you tend to notice the little things that make people… well… people.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Perhaps I don’t but it’s a better perspective than the holier-than-thou types who think all of you are abominations who should be put to the torch,” He ceased his stride and exhaled. Uhlman lowered his head, “Who could blame them? It’s so easy to judge the denizens of Hell for what they are than face the complex reality. Such is how things are to both the living and the dead.”

“You can say that again.” This time it came from Artyom’s lips but he seemed sincere in his remark.

The lights began to flicker as everyone in the room looked around. She couldn’t help herself but felt that should not have happened. Then her ears heard someone’s fast-paced footsteps in the nearby hallway. An open door to her right revealed a man rushing past the lunchroom before it was followed by inaudible yelling elsewhere in the building. The imp did not know what to make of it; yet, a cold chill could be felt across her body.

“I don’t about any of you but I have a feeling that is not a good sign.”

Artyom and Uhlman were the first to properly leave the room and make their way towards the commotion. Millie began to observe the others with Angel Dust and Vaggie reluctantly chasing after the servants of Heaven. Those who remained were the employees of I.M.P. and Blitzo’s daughter.

“Well, should we follow them? It seems like a big deal if it got their attention.” She chimed in, looking at her husband and coworker.

The man whom she loved shook his head at the situation. “I don’t know, dear. After what just happened, I’m not inclined to care at this point. Railtracer or whatever his name is. This isn’t our concern.”

“You sure we can go back to the way things were? They know that we know about them. All of us have a target on our back and there is nothing we can do about it.”

A tapping of footsteps approached the room as Artyom stood in the doorway the two imps and the Hellhound turned to see a look of worry on his face. It was a rare moment to see a side of him that they had yet to find out but it did little to comfort Millie. What was it that changed his expression in such a way? “Do any of you know where Blitzo is?”

“What’s it to you?” Moxxie replied, holding back his disdain for what might seem to be a traitor in that sense of a word, “Are you trying to tie up loose ends?”

“It’s much worse than that. We just got news that our headquarters is under attack and we can’t do anything about it,” He answered while his eyes glanced over to the Hellborn present in the room. His throat gave signs of a swallow before Artyom continued, “We also got word that Pride is about to be attacked. Try to find Blitzo but if you have anyone close, get them out here as quickly as possible.”

“What the fuck is happening?” She was not alone in that thought.

“Unfinished business, one that has escalated.” Came his reply.

Waiting for an interview at 666 News was both a thrill and a fearful endeavor. Verosika had to face the camera and look into the whole of Hell itself as Katie Killjoy interviewed her on live television. Where the Hellborn and sinners saw her as an enthusiastic anchor to keep the audience enthralled with her guests. Once she was away from prying eyes, all that the succubus could see was an unapologetic asshole looking for an excuse to insult her interviewees. Especially, when it came to the man beside her in the gas mask trying to keep up with her antics.

She would have to face the woman once the interview with Asmodeus, the sin of Lust, and his boyfriend were done talking to her. Despite the symbol of a sin openly discussing his relationship with an imp, Katie still had to ‘Kow-tow,’ as the damned described it, to him given that he came all this way from Lust to deal with the worst of humanity. After all, everyone who was present knew that he sat at the same table as the ruler of the Dark Realm itself.

Those four sat ahead of her with a round table separating Asmodeus and Fizzarolli from Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench talking to each other about their relationship. There had been rumors floating around that they were in a full-fledged couple rather than being a one-time fling. If there was one concept that everyone in Hell understood it was power. That was how you moved up from the lowest dregs of society and anything that detracted from that foundation was to be despised. Regardless of what sin a demon adhered to, everything was to be sacrificed for that glory.

The words being spoken on the set with the eyes of the camera and their crew were ignored as she felt like a hypocrite. Katie’s eyes revealed a devious and opportunistic look underneath the expression of a caring news anchor who appeared to care about those important enough to raise the ratings. The Verosika anticipated the time when it would be her turn when she would talk about why she was helping Princess Charlie of Hell when it was clear that no one truly gave a damn about redemption. She would truly say that it was for the money and the glory of being sponsored by some of Hell’s highest; yet, Verosika sensed the shame if she said it.

“Hey, are you okay?” She heard Kiki’s voice whisper to her from behind.

Looking over her shoulder, the dark-haired succubus was standing with her sinner thief who had stolen her car that one time. She couldn’t talk too loud on the set so she made sure to lower her voice. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking what I’m going to say.”

“Just make it quick and simple.”

“Are you also ready to receive Katie’s questions?” Pavel asked. Although the pop-star didn’t ask for his thoughts on the matter, it was helpful, “It helps ease the pressure. Believe me.”

His girlfriend turned to him with a look of surprise on her face. “What would you know of answering questions?”

“I was a major in charge of a detachment of soldiers. Dealing with hard questions and responses was one of my responsibilities among shooting shit and making sweet love to beautiful women.”

“You’re lucky that I like you enough to tolerate that.” She replied, flustered with his words.

“Then how about this?” He leaned in to steal a kiss from Kiki’s lips, leaving her surprised and embarrassed, “Would you tolerate that?”

Verosika smiled at their banter as she returned her gaze to the current interview still happening on live television. Here, she planned her own way of handling the sinner should the news anchor act like a bitch. Until then, the succubus listened to how Asmodeous was handling his dildo business.

The symbol of Lust spoke, loud enough for the microphones to hear his insight. “We make the finest of sex toys and with Fizzarolli by my side, he helps me with the designs if you know what I mean.”

“You know I wasn’t asking whether or not he’s helping you with your business.” Replied the annoyed Katie Killjoy.

“What was the question again?”

“Is it true that you and Fizzarolli are more than just a fling?” She asked while stealing a glance at her coworker sitting at her side, “Rumor has it that you two are a couple based on our sources. How would the rest of Hell look at this dynamic if this is true?”

“To be frankly honest, I think they can go fuck themselves,” The demon answered, offended at the implications as his cyborg imp expressed a gracious smile, “They can judge me forever but at the very least I’m getting - as some sinners would say - be having some bussy to myself. If anything, I think they’re just jealous someone ain’t going down on them.”

The pale-faced woman rolled her eyes at his response. She expressed absolute disgust at the nature of the conversation before her voice made it known. “So you’re just another queer? Why am I not surprised.”

“Maybe you should be getting some. Clearly, you haven’t had one since you got here. Based on what I’m seeing, you that desperate to hit on Tom.” Asmodeus was in a joyous mood after his words seemed to have an effect on her.

“You know what, get the fuck off my set! I don’t need this from you.”

Fizzarolli burst out laughing as he leaned back on the stool before looking at the camera. “Aw, the sinner needs some cock. Maybe you should buy Asmodeus’ products where it’ll satisfy you until you're in Heaven!”

The succubus couldn’t help herself from smiling at their humor. Repressed sexual tension was bad for the mind and she too enjoyed their toys. So to see a sinner get flustered that she needs some time to herself or find someone willing to entertain her desires of the flesh was poetic. Unfortunately, Verosika couldn’t partake in their laughter as Asmodeus and Fizzarolli rose up from their seats and left the eyes of the camera lens. She was up next as the face of Lust and his partner made their way towards her. Soon they stopped in front of her as the clown broke off to talk to her.

“Verosika, nice seeing you here! What are you here for?” He asked, she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious or not.

Telling him about the concert at the Hazbin Hotel would raise eyebrows but what could be worse than showcasing one’s love to a significant other? “I had a concert at Charlie’s hotel. Now everyone’s wondering why I did it there.”

“The princess?” He was taken aback by the answer and stood before her. The imp was about to speak but unable to before he shrugged his shoulders, “You probably have your reasons. Have fun fucking with Katie!”

All was said and done as they departed from their company and went on their merry way. If she had any thoughts about those two, it was that she was glad they were happy together. To find happiness in Hell was a rarity and the few times that spark ever came to her was with Blitzo and Railtracer. Hopefully, they’ll continue to maintain that for as long as possible.

Katie screamed in a rageful roar as she threw her mug across the room and watched as it killed a pink bunny sinner standing behind the camera. To say she was angry with the outcome was an understatement until she finally yelled out at the crew. “Cut to the commercials!”

She would be a handful and once the advertisements on television were over, the pop star would have to confront the whole of Hell once more. Behind her, someone’s phone rang as she turned around to see Pavel answer the call. His robotic head was lowered as someone spoke up; yet, the succubus recognized her boyfriend. A cold chill ran down her spine but the woman didn’t know what to make of it. Then her gut began to churn as if the uneasy feeling was related to the conversation the sinners were having with each other. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he finished and ended the call.

“Was that Railtracer?” Maybe there was a reason for that.

The Russian nodded his head as he slipped his phone back into his pockets and stole a glance from Kiki. “We need to leave, now.”

“Leave? We’re about to start my interview.” He was acting all strange but she couldn’t put her finger on it, “Why do we need to leave?”

“Something bad is going on and my comrade says it’s not safe here. I’m going to trust his instincts on this one.”

The lights began to flicker a minute later. Everyone stopped and looked around as the spread of confusion took over. Then darkness filled the room as people began to turn on the flashlights on their phones. Katie Killjoy announced an order in spite of it. “Okay people, there’s nothing to be afraid of. It’s probably Sir Pentious with the power grid.”

“This is not a coincidence.” He added as if the Russian was foretelling the dark events soon to pass.

“Alright, we’ll leave,” Verosika replied as she led the way while stealing a glance over her shoulder to find Kiki’s and Pavel’s footwear whenever her flashlight shined on their legs, “I can make a new appointment later.”

The trio made their way out of the building that was 666 News through the poorly lit hallways and staircases. As time passed and they descended towards the ground floor, there seemed to be a growing panic and fear arising from both the staff and sinners looking to make a name for themselves. At times, the power would briefly return before shutting down in a blink of an eye. Perhaps her gut sensed a great and terrible event but if that was the case, what would be the cause of it? Pavel seemed to hold a great 6th sense or maybe he knew someone who had connections and Railtracer was one of them. She would have to hold a conversation with her boyfriend once they met up.

By the time they arrived at the entrance level, their shoes tapped against the marble floor until they stepped outside and the heels met concrete. The popstar’s car was parked out front, ready to be driven when she noticed that her companions seemed to stop following her. She looked back to see their faces look up at the sky with the former Russian officer express absolute horror before he uttered his words. “Chyort.”

What could possibly distract them from leaving?

Verosika followed where their eyes were focused on and joined them in observing the crimson sky. Any other day would have been normal but this was entirely different. The white dot where Heaven was had seemed to leave a lasting impression on her as she saw trails of silver specks fast approaching Hell. There had been times when she would witness the exterminators come down from the skies to unleash their great and terrible task upon the sinners of the Dark Realm. Yet, it was different to see these great ships accelerate towards Pentagram city in a pace far beyond any denizen would understand.

Great engines ignited as they began to slow their descent into the city. Never would she find herself to be standing a site that was so awe-inspiring; yet, terrifying at the same time. “Why are they coming here?”

“I’ll drive but you two better have a safe place where you can hide out,” Pavel ordered as the two girls saw him rush over to the driver’s seat and reach behind the wheel while the succubus women eagerly slipped into the soft cushions of their vehicle, “Call your dad, I think he needs to know we’re all in for a wild night.”

Once their seatbelts were tightened, they drove away into the city as she reached for her phone. Maybe V1 knew something about this?

The I.M.P. crew had broken off from Artyom’s company and it was probably for the better. Moxxie was angry with him and he honestly didn’t know how to defuse that reaction. Loona and Millie were probably trying to make the best out of their situation as they drove off to find Blitzo somewhere in Pentagram City. He hoped that they would find somewhere safe in response to the rogue Holy Army elements that had launched their unsanctioned attack on Hell itself. It couldn’t have been a coincidence given their recent discovery.

He looked at his mirror to see Vaggie and Angel Dust were sitting in the back. Expressions filled with worry as they looked outside the window. Who could blame them? After all, they were witnessing a glimpse of Heaven’s forces far beyond what was showcased on the yearly exterminations. Meanwhile, Tony sat in the passenger seat beside him organizing the safehouses across the major urban center for sinners by phone. While the Department of Purgatory maintained its Hellside appearances, it was only a matter of time until the denizens of Hell noticed a convoy of Mrs. Mayberry’s car and dozens of black SUVs rushing towards their destination.

The Courier and Azrael’s second-in-command ushered in new orders on an open channel. “Masquerade compromised. Hostiles are approaching Pentagram City. All Purgatory Investigators and Gendarmes, rally at the Hazbin Hotel. I say again, rally at the Hazbin Hotel. Defend the VIP at all costs.”

“Is Charlie the VIP?” Vaggie asked as the former Polis Ranger maintained course on the road. His M4 Carbine resting across his lap while hearing the conversation.

“Yes, unfortunately. The same guys who ambushed you at the mansion are trying to get at Lucifer. What better way than to start with his daughter.”

“How many guys do you think are going to show up?” Her tone was different than how he usually saw her. The fierce independence she displayed toward others replaced with the sound of vulnerability, “Should I call her?”

Tony lowered the hand holding his phone as he turned around to see the sinner sitting directly behind the driver’s seat. “I know you two are close and I’m pulling everyone I can find. It might be a good idea.”

“It ain’t my business but why does it sound that you’re not going to have a lot of guys protecting the hotel.” Inquired the spider behind the aid to Azrael.

“Not too long ago, my guys we’re being hunted. The investigators are the department’s eyes and ears in Hell and someone didn’t want us snooping around.”

“Fuck,” Angel Dust replied, surprised by the response, “Shit must be bad in Heaven if you guys are having a civil war.”

Someone’s voice on the phone cried out, alerting everyone in the room. “Hostile gunship, it sees us!”

Artyom looked ahead to see the Hazbin Hotel tower over the parts of the city. They were closing the distance as they approached but their car was never in the general vicinity of Charlie’s residence. He could feel the windshield vibrate due to the sounds of a low-flying helicopter rushing overhead from behind. With blades cutting through the air, he saw the war machine painted in olive green rotate to face the vulnerable department convoy. The sight of the chain gun’s barrel underneath the pilot’s cockpit and missile warheads evoked terror in the Russian that they were helpless against that firepower.

“Defending the Hazbin Hotel is a top priority, our lives are secondary!” The Courier replied to his phone before turning to him, “A lot of our guys are going to die but we have to push through and hard. I hope you’ve brushed up on your driving.”

The SUV ahead of their car had opened a hatch atop their roof as a Gendarme in ballistic protection and Kevlar vest manned the minigun turret. Like a saw buzzing through solid oak wood, the weapon fired and sprayed out tracers into the sky, attempting to land a hit on the Holy Army aircraft. A missile was launched from its side as the heat-seeking warhead whistled into the convoy and struck the vehicle in a fiery explosion taking his coworkers to final end of their existence. Yet, the explosion had flipped the car over, leaving an opening for them.

“Go!” Tony commanded and Artyom obeyed pushing Mrs. Mayberry’s car to its limit. The lack of armor protection did little to comfort him, causing his thoughts to quietly pray to God to grant him the luck they needed to save the princess to the bitter end.

Soon the rest of the gunship’s arsenal was unleashed upon the Archangel of Death’s servants. As rounds and missiles indiscriminately roared at the unrelenting number of vehicles, the convoy progressed at the cost of casualties. Heaven-based military-graded hardware was produced from the rooftops of these vehicles in an attempt to down the enemy who seemed untouchable; however, each act of valor was met with a resounding death. Every effort to break the attacker’s advantage was one less body able to defend the redemption hotel. Nonetheless, it was a race against fate as bystanding sinners and Hellborn on the sidewalk were caught in the throes of combat.

An upcoming intersection was being approached as Angel Dust informed them. “After those lights, it’s a straight shot across.”

Hearing that, his foot pressed forward as the engine was pushed to its limit. While the screams of missiles brought havock behind his car. Just as they were about to pass through, a red impala sprang out to his left and collided against the rear end of the vehicle. The driver’s concentration broke as the Russian used every fiber of his being to tighten his grip on the wheel as the party spun out of their lane and found themselves crashing into a parked car by the corner store.

Artyom took a brief moment to steal a look at his disoriented passengers, all three groaning and gathering their minds from the impact. Then he turned his attention towards the intersection, on the other side of the road, only to find four men and women wearing uniforms clad in blue and white step out of their car. Each one equipped with ballistic protection and blessed firearms.

The rest of the convoy came through as the ambushers fired upon the armored SUVs. He would not permit that as the ex-soldier removed his seatbelt and raised his assault carbine and fired from the driver’s seat. In semi-auto, he fired his first shot, which landed in someone’s face as their comrades were taken aback by the return fire. The next three shots made their way by the surprised assailants, who fell in quick succession to the old habits of the former Polis Ranger as spent cartridges bounced off his blessed Kevlar vest.

He soon tried to revive the engine’s ignition; yet, the spark that led to it’s roar had devolved into a whine. Accepting that Mrs. Mayberry’s car was dead, he unlocked the car and stepped out to the intersection, hailing for someone in the convoy to acknowledge him.

Three had pressed onward before a fourth vehicle acknowledged his signal by slowing down. Out from the front passenger seat, a bearded man in a boonie hat stepped out in a British army uniform and a blessed MP5 slung over his shoulder. “Are you mad?! Didn’t you get the order?”

“Tony’s in the car,” He bluntly told him, “The others are sinners but one’s Charlie’s girlfriend and the other is her guest.”

“Alright lad, I’ll see if I can fit’em.” The Englishman answered as he rallied the others from his car to join him. Three men in black uniforms stepped out with gas masks strapped to their faces and were quick to their feet as they rushed over to Mayberry’s sedan and carefully helped them out of their seats.

The same helicopter that harassed the convoy had flown over with its latest missile payload targeting another SUV passing by. As smoke and fire erupted around them, the British and Russian soldiers glued themselves to the ground.

“Bloody Apache!” Swore the stranger as he pointed to the back of his vehicle, “There’s a Stinger in the trunk. Help me nail this bugger!”

They quickly ran over to the back of the car and opened the trunk, revealing black cases of weaponry perfectly stowed away. If he wasn’t concerned by the helicopter’s incessant attacks on the convoy, Artyom would have been impressed by the organizational skill and the Department of Purgatory’s inventory. Then the Englishman reached inside and pulled out a long black case before he carefully placed it on the ground and opened the locks. Once the top was removed, he was presented with what he would consider a very elaborate tube. “What the Hell is this?”

“My answer to our problem, step aside!”

It wasn’t long until Artyom obeyed as the soldier pulled the weapon out from the black foam where it rested. He watched as the man rested it over his shoulder and looked up at the sky to see the helicopter make another pass at the rest of the convoy from behind. The Russian heard the weapon activate and produce low beeps from its systems the longer he focused his aim on the gunship. Then the beeping gradually grew in frequency as time passed by, a fascinating weapon for a post-apocalypse survivor who didn’t have any experience in it. Once the sound transformed into a monotonous tone, a missile was launched out into the air for a brief moment before gravity was about to pull it down. Everything changed when the missile ignited and soared into the crimson sky with a smoke trail revealing its existence.

The helicopter released a series of flares as it broke off from unleashing another series of attacks. Yet, the missile trailed towards its destination with great haste while the assailants appeared to be making their maneuvers away from the counterattack. Despite their efforts to fly away, they combusted in a fiery explosion as it broke in two, with the remaining parts descending to the ground. “Finally, we won’t lose more to those buggers.”

“Not the right time for introductions but I appreciate your assistance,” He expressed his gratitude as he walked up to the stranger who aided him in such a dire circumstance. His hand extended out to the unknown soldier, “My name’s Artyom, investigator at the Hazbin Hotel.”

“I hear you’re the lucky lad who slept with Verosika Mayday. Captain Price, former Special Air Service, Gendarmes.” His reputation within the Department of Purgatory seemed to be growing, just not in ways he’d expected.

Tony’s voice reached out to them from behind as the duo turned to see their superior and the two sinners being helped into the SUV. “There’s a lot of us for a carpool. Unless someone’s willing to make space or hang from outside, someone’s got to catch a ride or hoof it on foot.”

Angel Dust and Vaggie were too important to leave behind and Tony was too important for an active warzone that broke out inside the Dark Realm. None of this was ideal but Artyomm was used to making the best out of the worst situation. “I’ll go on foot since I know the way to the hotel. Go ahead.”

“We’ll see you there then,” He turned to the rest of the Gendarmes and nodded his head inside the car, “Someone give me a status on convoy strength! We lost a lot out here.”

As the trunk and the doors began to close one by one, the Russian stood still before catching Vaggie’s gaze. She seemed to have a look of worry on her face after he resigned himself to such a fate; yet, he smiled back at her and readied his M4 Carbine. Then the moth broke their silence. “Mayberry’s waiting for you. She’ll want to know.”

She closed the door as the car rejoined the convoy after two SUVs drove past them. He didn’t hesitate to start jogging on the concrete towards the Hazbin Hotel, the weight of protection and ammo to supplement the would-be engagement against the rogue Holy Army soldiers. Helen’s name reminded him of the task at hand and surely she and Verosika would have questions for him once this was all over.

He would make a lonely trek to his destination but with conviction to carry himself through. Just like the old times when he was just a mere Polis Ranger.

Lucifer would have spent time in the royal garden with his wife to reminisce about their first meetings. That would never come to be as news of Holy Army airships were brought to his attention. In light of such news, he had ordered an emergency meeting with his closest advisors who could afford to visit the royal palace. Fear would rule both the lowest and the highest ranks of the Hellborn for the sign of Heaven’s forces launching an invasion was enough for many to worry about their own wellbeing. He would tolerate such a reaction as they had grown complacent about the exterminations being exclusive to the sinners.

Lilith stood by his side as he strode through the halls of his home with soldiers and servants frantically running to and fro with great haste. Then they approached the meeting room with two imps in crimson armor standing outside, both immediately opened the door for him as he pressed himself inside for the situation at hand. Only two of his sins were present on his left flank - a four-armed clown-like creature representing Hell’s greed while the other person was a crossover between a fox and a bug to reflect on the insatiable hunger. Then to his right an Ars Goetia was present, none other than Paimon himself.

He would address the obvious by focusing on the more powerful aspects of his kingdom. “Mammon and Beelzebub, you two are the only ones who have reported in. Where are the others?”

The symbol of Gluttony pulled out her phone and showed him a series of text messages from the ruler of the Lust, “Asmodeous was just leaving 666 News so he’s on the ground in Pentagram City. Right now, though, he’s trying to get-”

Soon the clown interrupted her on the conversation, raising his hand like a schoolboy. “Asmodeus is getting a close friend of mine out of danger!”

“Then what is the status of the others?” Lucifer continued to question as was his right as the ruler of Hell. He needed to know the whereabouts of the other sins if this threat from Heaven was genuinely going to press their advantages against him, “Where are they?”

“I… we don’t know,” Mammon answered as the sins produced a gallic shrug, “I wish we knew but it seems like we can’t get any reception to them at all.”

Then Paimon spoke up on the matter. “It might not be a coincidence that the Holy Army may have jammed our communications, specifically ours, to prevent command and control. As of right now, I’ve been ordering runners and even risking using civilian communications to reach out on what’s going on.”

“Keep reaching out, they need to know what has transpired. Now then, do we know the whereabouts of the Holy Army forces being deployed against us?” If they could isolate and contain the enemy, it can give the legions of Hell more breathing room and time to rally against the sudden hostilities.

The atmosphere of the room shifted as Lilith spoke from behind his back, trembling with a phrase he had not considered from her lips. “Dear… I think they’re going for our daughter.”

He turned around and saw her reveal her phone’s screen to him. His wife grew worrisome as the ruler of the dark realm stepped forward to see various live news about the enemy converging on the Hazbin Hotel. The cane in his hand tightened with a grip that would have broken bones of a mere mortal but this came with the understanding that his beloved daughter was at the mercy of the enemy. He could have aroused a burst of anger had it not been for the live footage of a convoy of vehicles approaching Charlie’s home while engaging with Holy Army troops. Among all the various images of warfare being committed, he noticed a lone recognizable figure running and coordinating with the people from the convoy. “Railtracer?”

“Sire?” The Ars Goetia asked him from behind. He was a fool to have forgotten that perhaps Heaven didn’t sanction this, “Is there something wrong?”

“No, I think we have a brief moment of hope. Do you have any available troops to send, Paimon?”

“Yes, do you intend for me to rescue the princess?” He wondered.

He shook his head at the conclusion that Paimon had brought himself to for the truth needed to be revealed as he returned his full attention to those at the meeting table. “There are forces being fielded by my brother, Azrael, the Archangel of Death. They may be on an interception course to protect my daughter and you are to reinforce them as soon as possible.”

“Archangel?! You mean to tell us that Heaven’s trying to help?!”

“Yes,” Lilith revealed to the others, “Azrael has been paying us a visit recently but someone’s been targeting Charlie to get to my husband. We can all quibble this over after we deal with whoever authorized this shitshow.”

“No argument from me, I’ll see if I can reach out to people who could help. I know one of the guys who lives at the Hazbin Hotel.” Beelzebub remarked as she reached for her phone and scrolled through.

The power and wifi connection to the rest of Hell was acting strange. Charlie would have dismissed it entirely as sinners causing problems to her hotel if it wasn’t for Alastor informing her with her powers that it was not it. As sirens blared outside the walls, the princess was confused by the occurrence since this year was too early for an extermination. Yet, the alarms throughout the city continued to instill a terror she was all too familiar with. Whatever would cause it would nonetheless force the heiress to confront the scenery of sadistic bloodshed by those who called themselves servants of God.

She had been standing alone in the lounge area, trying to flick through the television screen before the sounds of Alastor’s footsteps and microphone stand tapping against the carpet made their way inside. The Radio Demon walked in from her left while his face seemed disinterested in current events as if there wasn’t a problem to begin with. Then again, he held absolute distaste for television so it wasn’t surprising before she returned her gaze to the television.

He spoke on her insistence to see a connection. “You know, staring into the static isn’t going to make it work no matter how much you try. Radio is less likely to have such a hassle.”

“Unlike you, I actually try to get with the times,” Charlie replied as the corner of her eye caught wind of the overlord’s face riddled with annoyance. It was the one time she could get a word jab against him as he regained his formality.

“I will say, if this is a genuine extermination occasion, shouldn’t we be looking for our compatriots?” Alastor asked as she ceased her efforts with the television remote and tossed it to the couch on the right. Perhaps another time but what was certain is that Angel Dust, Vaggie, and Railtracer were still out there, “I hold no love for them but your redemption candidate is indeed out on the streets.”

Ruthless he might be, there was some pragmatic logic in his words. There was only one way to solve this and it involved looking for them. “You’re not wrong. I don’t know where Razzle and Dazzle are but if I’m out there, the exterminators won’t touch them. Care to join me?” 

“Quite the proposition but I wish to retire. My old wound from our friend at the Department of Purgatory is flaring up. If you permit me to be honest, it’s the closest I’ve ever experienced to pain.”

A small and lithe figure rushed into the room as Charlie and Alastor turned to see Nifty stop by the doorway. “Your highness, we got visitors outside our front door.”

“Visitors?” She was perplexed by the development given the situation outside her home. Who could ask to join her hotel at this time? “Who is it?”

“Well, you got to see for yourself. There’s a lot of people wanting to come in.”

It did not take long for the trio to leave and make their way towards the nearest elevator. As they descended through each floor, they all caught a glimpse of the world outside. Dozens of heavily armored airships hovered over Pentagram City, lording over those at their mercy. Missiles and rockets were launched from the urban streets, only to be met with large caliber cannon fire as various airborne vehicles descended from underneath their hide. Helicopters were deployed into large formations alongside exterminators swarming the skies with their blessed spears in hand. For all of its impressive power that Heaven brought before her, this was not their standard operating procedure during the exterminations. There had to be a reason for this to happen since it was out of their character.

Soon the Radio Demon pointed his finger towards movement approaching the Hazbin Hotel in great haste. A convoy of black SUVs ignored traffic laws and drove through each intersection like a snake crawling through a forest. “Odd, isn’t it? They are coming and I have a feeling it is not to discuss about the credibility of your plan.”

The royal studied the vehicles closely as they gradually lowered themselves to the ground level. When the convoy was just outside of the hotel, the series of vehicles halted before the passengers and drivers stepped out to reveal humans approaching the front of the building wearing a vast collection of militarized equipment. She recognized some of their style as it reminded her of Tony’s introduction that fateful night. “It’s the Department of Purgatory.”

“Well, no wonder why my wound was hurting,” Alastor mused to himself before she heard him cackle with laughter, “It will be satisfying to exact a little revenge.”

Their vision was about to be cut off as the elevator began to slow down upon approaching the ground floor. Yet, off in the distance, Charlie caught sight of one of the airships exploding into a massive fireball. It had been broken in two with the debris descending into the city itself. Before the shaft’s decorative layout blocked her view of the outside world, the princess managed to catch sight of a blue robotic figure with wings leaping out from the flames. In it’s hands was a massive gun that had unleashed a blue stream of light from the barrel before the shot began to reflect four times in different angles until it landed on another Heaven airship. To witness Verosika Mayday’s adoptive father in action was quite different from the stories that were told about it.

The elevator came to a halt and a bell rang out inciting the doors to slide open. Then the princess and her entourage navigated through the hallways towards the main hall to the front. Upon arriving, they saw Husk and Mrs. Mayberry standing in front of the door before his cat-like ears perked up and they both turned around to see her. He looked terrified but then his expression shifted to relief. “You guys have no idea how many sinners are out there. Also, the Tony guy we met earlier is here.”

“He’s here?” If is the same guy, he better have questions to the confusion she was witnessing, “I hope he’s not the cause of the extermination.”

“Well, do you want me to let them in?”

If people sought for her safety, she had no right to deny them that comfort. “Yes. We’ll talk with Tony on what he has to say.”

The cat-like sinner with wings and the teacher unlocked the door. It swung open like a river upon a breaking damn as they stepped aside. About a hundred various sinners rushed inside in a great stampede, each damned soul pushing those in the front to move forward. This sea of terrified humanity began to settle down upon as their oncoming numbers slowly dwindled upon entering the front door.

Those who caught her eye were surprised upon seeing the royal before she would grant them a comforting smile, a way to ease the tension of the sinful seeking her company. Once the final stragglers made their way inside the building, she mentally prepared for the next matter at hand.

A relaxed lean figure approached the door with hands resting on his belt as the familiar stranger returned to her personal domain. Two holstered revolvers revealed the cowboy-like iconography of Tony himself as he spoke through his speakers. “Ma’am, I know this isn’t the best of circumstances but we don’t have much time.”

“What is going on and why are you here?” She asked of him as the princess straightened her spine and the resolve of what she would have to face. The sight of an early extermination outside her front door involved a number of questions and perhaps this servant of Heaven could answer, “Are you the one responsible for this extermination.

“No, Miss Morningstar. Now I know my superior would give me Hell for this but they are actually targeting you to get to Lucifer. The Department of Purgatory is here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

“Who’s attacking then?!”

He shook his head but then his next words revealed uncertainty. “I don’t know but they’re desperate enough to try it right here, right now. Will you let my guys in and help fend them off?”

“Exterminators? Do you really think we aren’t ready to face off against their kind?” Alastor assuredly remarked.

“It’s not them I’m worried about. Now will you let us in or not?”

If what he said was true then Charlie didn’t have much of a choice to refuse his help. Her previous encounter with him had been strange and shady; yet, he was upfront with his intentions. Perhaps the same would apply here? “As the daughter of Lucifer, you have my permission to protect this hotel as you see fit.”

“Thank you,” He turned back and gestured for the others to come inside. Tony walked into the hallway as dozens of heavily armed soldiers in ballistic protection immediately ran inside, each of them carrying black boxes inside. Then the man issued orders to those who have yet to enter, “I want heavy weapons and platoons on each floor. Spread yourselves out and try to cover the skies and the streets.”

Two oncoming people managed to slip inside the line of people making their way past the leader of the convoy before the heiress recognized the pink fluff of her hotel candidate. Here, he stepped out of line to greet the entourage with a smile on his face upon seeing her. “Gosh, it’s good to see you darlings again.”

“Angel Dust, you’re alive!” Nifty shouted as she jumped up to wave her hand at him.

“Of course I am. These nice military guys liked what they saw and couldn’t pass down an ass like mine.”

Out from behind the homosexual spider, Vaggie appeared with a blessed spear in hand. She looked tired but her return was a relief to the princess herself. “Where were you guys? I was about to head out and look out for you.”

“We were brought into an abandoned estate out of Pentragram but got ambushed. If it wasn’t for Tony and his guys, I don’t think we would have made it out alive.” The moth answered as the two embraced each other into a hug.

Mayberry spoke up with a worrying look. “Speaking of which, where is Railtracer?”

“Oh, you’re talking about Artyom,” Tony casually implied as he rejoined the princess and her mostly reunited members of her hotel, “He’s on foot but he’s going to catch up and rendevous with us.”

“Uh? You know him?”

He turned to the sinner teacher with his helmet’s glowing red gaze and nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes. Long-story short, he’s one of the department’s investigators. I won’t get into it as I know all of you will have a lot of questions for him but now is not the time.”

“What exactly is the issue?” Charlie wondered, hoping it would ease any problem that would arise from her home.

“Namely, your temporary residents. I know you let these sinners in but this place is going to turn into a warzone in a minute. They are not safe here.”

They wouldn’t stand much of a chance out there, even if she compelled Alastor to throw them into the streets. Her heart was too compassionate about their well-being. “We can’t kick them out if that is what you’re asking.”

“I knew this was going to happen,” His hands clenched into a fist before she heard his breath through the rebreathers, “Can you at least put them somewhere else? I don’t want them to be caught in the line of fire or get in the way.”

“I can get Nifty to do it.” It was a reasonable request and fortunately for him, the Hazbin Hotel had a basement that was large enough to comply.

A man shouted from outside the hotel. “Contact!”

Gunfire erupted as the princess and Tony ran to the front of the building. The armed men and women who were standing outside and beside their cars had their backs turned towards them as each raised their firearms barrels up high. She looked up to see a small of army of exterminators descend upon the parked convoy, rushing into the storm of bullets. Some were struck down and fell to the ground with an agonizing scream while the rest landed on the ground and caught the soldiers in melee.

Spears pierced and stabbed the soldiers who weren’t quick enough to survive the initial onslaught. Then heiress eyes widened, taken aback by the defenders skill at disarming their foe’s main weapons in hand-to-hand combat and drawing pistols to kill them in close range. The human beside her barked a command as he rallied them by waving his hand, “Drop everything and get inside! I need everybody here!”

An exterminator landed in front of them. Charlie heard a haunting giggle while expressing a sadistic smile as the assailant gleefully ran towards the entrance spear in hand. The holy blade glimmered for a brief moment until Tony reached for his revolver and fired, fanning the hammer three times. Much to her surprise, she had watched three round riddle her stomach before falling over to the lawn, writhing in pain. The armed Gendarmes closest to the hotel were quick to rush inside as ordered but one stepped over to the wounded exterminator.

“Bloody bitch,” He swore in an English accent as he readied his submachine gun and fired off a three-round burst into the head, golden liquid spilling out and staining the dirt. Then he looked up at them in a gas mask and gave them a nod before swiftly running into the building.

More servants of Purgatory, once briefly free from the throes of combat, ran inside. Despite their ability, the several hundred of exterminators were overpowering and outnumbering those who have yet to retreat inside. Some found themselves impaled by multiple spears, others who retreated were ruthlessly struck from behind - a gruesome scene of slaughter she would never forget as the last few dozens made it past the main entrance. The rest of the exterminators descended to the ground and stood tall.

It was different seeing one of their kind but immensely imposing to have this many stand outside the Hazbin Hotel. They didn’t press the advantage, rather, they stood on the street and sidewalk as if compelled to let the remaining survivor’s take the time to foritfy the defenses.

“Charlie, it’s not safe here. I think you should go with the sinners downstairs,” Vaggie whispered from behind, her hand grabbing ahold of hers as the princess reluctantly stepped away from Tony at the front door.

He reached for the handle and was about to close it shut but the atmosphere shifted as a brief golden flash erupted from the ranks of the exterminators. She wanted to fall back and do what her girlfriend asked but her mind held the morbid curiosity to witness what horror that was in store for her. Feet shuffled as Angel Dust rushed to the front while loading his Tommy gun. Mrs. Mayberry then appeared as she loaded shotgun shells into the chamber and joined the servant of Heaven by the door. His revolver still remained in his grip, placed by his side. Then came the commotion of Nifty ushering the sinners downstairs from behind while the army of exterminators remained outside.

A loud but fair voice rippled from the ranks of Heaven’s lethal killers. “Well, well, well. I am delighted to see the Hazbin Hotel with my own eyes.”

“Who is that?” Asked the princess.

“Adam, the first man and the father of humanity,” Tony answered plainly as he closed the door, “If he’s here then we are fucked beyond all belief.”

“What can we do against him?”

“Not much. Half of my men are dead and the rest of our equipment is littered on the lawn,” He turned his head towards her and Vaggie, “A lot of people are going to die but it’s going to be us. I need you and everyone you care about to head to the basement and hole up with the civilians.”

The voice of the first man snapped them out of their conversation as everyone in the hallway heard him on the other side. “I know you Purgatory bitches are hiding in there but here’s a deal. I’ll spare every one of your fucking lives if you hand Lucifer’s daughter over. You and the rest of the sinners will all be safe and we’ll be on our way.”

“Maybe he’ll spare all of you if I try to talk to him,” She didn’t want any bloodshed nor the innocents to stain their island of refuge, even if this representative of Heaven had dark intentions in mind, “Open the-”

She reached out for the doorknob but Tony swatted her hand and shook his head. “I know that man personally. He despises every one of your kind in Hell, Adam will not adhere to his deal.”

“I’m not hearing a response! If that’s the case, I won’t show anyone any mercy,” Thus, came the ultimatum and the window of opportunity to spare the Hazbin Hotel from the violence was gone. What came next was clearly going to end in violence, “Alright then, Exterminators, att-”

He was interrupted when the sound of a car roared and violently incited screams of terror and surprise from the warrior women who were about to engage. Gunfire erupted with a commanding female voice calling them to the fight, “It’s a live one!”

“Kill that motherfucker, it’s only one guy!”

“Stuff me with a dick and call me a willy, it’s Railtracer.” Hearing his name caught the princess by surprise. After the latest revelation that he was one of Tony’s agents, she didn’t think he would come to their aid in such a dire situation.

Tony leaned closer to the homosexual porn star and looked through the small window on the left side of the main entrance. “What’s he doing?”

“He’s driving donuts and shooting the exterminators. They’re trying to kill him but he’s just too good.”

“We got to help him!” Mrs. Mayberry cried out as she opened the door and stepped outside with her shotgun in hand.

“No, don’t! It’s not safe out there!” The cowboy-like man tried to reach for her; yet, she was too quick for his arms to grab her clothing.

With the entrance open, Charlie caught a glimpse of the first man in a smooth gold and white cloak as his head was similar to that of the rest of the exterminators. Yet, it was more ornamental with gold on the tips of the horns. Then came his golden wings as he floated in the air and pointed at the driving sedan circling the parked convoy with dozens of the angelic killers swooping in to kill the driver. The man who was once seen as a sinner, was maneuvering the wheel with one hand while the other fired a pistol at those who tried to take his life. Each exterminator was shot in a few meters but one would have the misfortune of coming at the Russian from the front in an attempt to impale him in the chest. Railtracer would quickly spin around as the eager assailant found herself smacked against the tail of the car’s rear end.

The teacher began to fire one shotgun shell at a time against the army present outside the Hazbin Hotel. Yet, she only drew attention as Adam turned the gaze of his black mask upon Charlie with an evil smile before he pointed in their direction. “Kill that bitch and leave no survivors except for the princess. I want her alive.”

Two dozen flying enemies charged forth as Mayberry attempted to thwart their attempts but then Vaggie released her grip on the royal’s wrist and ran past her. The first attacker swooped in to stab at the forefront sinner until the heiress witnessed her girlfriend lung forward and clash against the oncoming exterminator with her polearm. They found themselves dodging each other’s quick jabs with the tips of their spears while Railtracer’s lover took a few steps back reloading her weapon.

Another three made their way into the vulnerable shotgunner before Angel Dust and Tony stepped out firing their guns. The spider unleashed long sweeping the air with bursts of automatic fire as the servant of Heaven drew his other holstered revolver and dual-wielded both pistols, carefully picking off each one who flew idly for their next attack.

She wanted to help them but being Adam’s target made her realize the horrible dilemma she was facing. Those who lived within her hotel and dared to fight on her behalf were at risk but being the target itself caused Charlie to hold off on rushing forward. It made her feel helpless but also useless at protecting her people.

Alastor casually walked past her, stopping at the doorway with his microphone in hand. He looked over his shoulder and stole a glance from her. “I see that you are conflicted but allow me to provide you with my services.”

The Radio Demon looked ahead of the army faced before him with great shadows being summoned into the very fabric of reality. Hundreds of voodoo-like apparitions simmered to life as they grew into the shape of imps before charging forward at the Heavenly host. They jumped and leaped as their claws swiped and stabbed at the hundreds who have yet to commit themselves. In response, the invaders lunged and stabbed at those who stood in their way before this was followed up by gunfire coming from the hotel itself.

The Gendarmes had let loose their automatic firepower as the glass windows were shattered in the wake of the counterattack. Those who were on the second floor had begun to pick them off one by one. It was rather shocking given how used the princess was to seeing the exterminators have free reign over the sinners with little to no resistance. But the imagery of their invincibility being broken gave her a brief glimpse of hope that they could see another day despite Tony’s haunting words earlier.

One flier managed to get in close to Railtracer’s sedan and bust the windows with her fist. She immediately struggled with the man at the wheel but his control over the vehicle revealed to wane as it wildly spun. For a brief moment, the Russian managed to shoot his attacker in the chest and moved her away from his window. He stopped the car in front of the lawn and began to reload his pistol before stepping out and firing on the incoming horde that threw themselves at Alastor’s overlord constructs and the residents of the Hazbin Hotel.

Adam’s expression revealed a furious look as he pointed his exterminators to press forward with the offensive. Yet, the atmosphere of the scene changed when a brief flash flickered beside the father of humanity with a being’s height towering over the creatures of Heaven. Clad in a mix of silver, gold, and blue for its armor as blue flaming wings were erected from the warrior’s back - the new arrival was beyond everything that Charlie had known about the small white dot in the sky. She saw the first human once again, to see his absolute terror as he immediately bowed towards him.

An enchanted voice commanded the scenery in which the floating knight-like angel revealed his displeasure. “Why haven’t you completed your task? Kill everyone and take the princess. Lucifer needs to be brought out of his palace.”

“I’m trying! The Department of Purgatory got here in time and is holding back Lute’s girls from breaking through. Just give me a bit of time.” While there were genuine concerns in his voice, the damned royal couldn’t help but sense that he was trying to excuse himself from his failures. Nonetheless, her stomach sensed a storm she could not avoid.

“We don’t have time,” The angelic figure drew both of his swords and turned to the hotel itself. Despite his armored helmet hiding his eyes, Charlie could sense the man’s gaze upon her, “Press the attack, I want no witnesses.”

All it took was a single blink as the princess of Hell watched the terrifying holy specter descend close to the ground and fly across the lawn with inhuman haste. The speed was unnatural as if he was phasing through reality rushing into the throes of combat. One shadow imp jumped at him but a quick swipe from one sword arm was enough to slay it from existence; yet, the princess could see that the construct was disintegrating and writhing on the ground. Alastor approached him, summoning a dozen more to stall the advancing warrior. However, the mysterious being lunged for the Radio Demon sheathing one blade before grabbing ahold of the sinner by the neck and slamming him into the pavement. What shadows that existed in the combat had disappeared, freeing the occupied exterminators onto the remaining defenders. She could hear his voice gasping for air. “Who are you?”

“I am Gabriel, Archangel of Judges and I am here to destroy Lucifer and his rule over all of Hell.” His answer invoked a terrifying aura, one that the heiress had not felt before.

“Your highness, run!” Screamed Alastor as he attempted to claw the armored gauntlet holding him down.

The archangel looked up, staring at her through the door before releasing his grip on the Radio Demon and approaching her in a menacing stride, ignoring the overlord he had incapacitated. Charlie slowly stumbled back from the front entrance, looking over her shoulder for a way to escape him. Her heartbeat pumped at the situation at hand before Husk appeared from a doorway to her left, swinging a bat at the armored warrior. Yet, it was not enough as the cat with wings found his weapon caught by Gabriel’s grip before his hand clenched into a fist and crushed the bludgeon into splinters. The sinner was taken aback before he punched back into the room, yelling out until a loud crash could be heard.

She turned and sought safety in the hallway to her left before the girl found herself sprinting for her life. The place she once called home had now become a labyrinth in the situation that led to her becoming pursued. Fear took over as the royal retreated deeper inside the building while the archangel menacingly chased after her in a slow walk. Looking ahead, she saw the hallway lead into an atrium with one of Tony’s men arriving with his assault rifle raised. He shouted in a Ukrainian accent. “Go, I’ll hold him.”

A brief flash of white light appeared above the man before Gabriel descended upon him with a golden spear. Charlie froze where she stood as the unknown protector became a victim with his chest being impaled and a blood-curdling scream was released from inside. Crimson splatters spilled around the area as the angel twisted his polearm and left a mess of a bleeding man on the ground. As he pulled his weapon out, he looked up at her with his armor stained with blood. His voice revealed a horrifying truth of what kind of nightmare was happening to her. “This is the fault of your father, had he not betrayed the Holy Father and been thrown into the depths of Hell, I would have called you niece. Yet, his sin was too great and terrible to ignore.”

“Bad boy!” Nifty appeared from behind as she rushed at the archangel with a pin cushion raised, ready to stab him. He raised his foot high and leaned forward while he kicked backward, tossing the small sinner back as she landed on the ground. The girl tried to lift her head but then succumbed to the floor.

“I wonder if he even told you the truth or even the fraction of its worth to you,” He continued confidently brandishing his spear before it dematerialized out of thin air, “Then he married Lilith, the demonic wench you call a mother but I know her kind.”

“Is this why you’re doing this? To properly wipe us off once and for all.” Charlie stood her ground, knowing full well that escape wasn’t on the table. She would try to fight him off, even if she was indeed unmatched.

“Yes, but this is to avenge the brothers that Lucifer has slain. That is the price for the queen of the succubi and so I am here to return the favor by starting with you.”

Gabriel was about to pass by a hallway to his right when two of Tony’s people jumped him. One was a woman in a black jacket and jeans with red hair covering one side of her face and another was a jaded man wearing Adidas sweatpants and a brown jacket. The woman’s arms began to transform, mechanically revealing two blades that were built into her limbs while the man brandished a submachine gun. Both attempted to stop him but the archangel reached for one of the two swords by his waist and slashed at one of the woman’s arms off. The man swore in Serbian as he unleashed his entire magazine on the foe but the heavenly killer merely pointed his weapon at him and a brief white energy erupted from the sword’s tip, vaporizing the shooter until all that was left of him was ashes and dust. The woman attempted to bring her other arm to strike at his armor; yet, it was all in vain when Gabriel knocked her off her feet and stomped her head, revealing a gushing red collection of blood and brain matter.

Charlie heard him laugh before he continued to walk towards her. “There will be no escape for you, Charlie ‘Magne’ Morningstar. I will make sure you see your father die.”

She wasn’t much of a fighter and didn’t believe in violence; yet, the princess felt the urge to resist. Right here, right now, the Princess of Hell would make her father proud. It was a sad thought, enough to break out into tears, knowing she wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to her parents. “I won’t go quietly.”

“Good, this will be satisfying.” His tone seemed humored by her words.

The archangel pressed forward while the royal anticipated his next move. As he passed by a closed door to her left, automatic gunfire erupted from inside the room, tearing apart the wooden finish. White flames rippled through the air as Gabriel winced the rounds had on his armor, revealing burnt marks across the silver glint. Then he lept back as his wings flapped, balancing his landing.

A great kick knocked the destroyed door into the hallway before Charlie was taken aback by Railtracer’s arrival. In his famous gas mask, his military green Russian fatigues were covered in layers of ballistic protection and kevlar. It would do little against the foe who dispatched Tony’s men amidst the fighting; nonetheless, she felt relieved by his arrival. He stood in front of her while his assault carbine was aimed firmly on the leader of the Heavenly host. “Your highness, are you alright?”

“You’re no match for him. I just saw him kill three people in this hallway.” She explained to him after the events she just witnessed.

“She’s right,” the archangel replied as he drew his second blade, “What makes you think you’ll be the one to stand against me when I have killed so many before you?”

“I know but this is a personal matter and I’ve been waiting to kill you since the last time we met.” Railtracer answered with a hint of hatred being held back underneath the gas mask. All of which was directed at her foe.

“Do tell me this, what exactly have I done that has earned the ire of a mere sinner?”

The Russian shook his head and reached for a bracelet on his wrist, removing it from place and tossing it to the side. In a brief flash, the form of the sinner she was familiar with revealed a human-like appearance but his face remained underneath his helmet and gas mask. “The convoy attack and the diner, remember that.”

“You were the witness. The one who survived and was kept hidden by Azrael himself,” His head was erected but it was clear that he was taken aback by the revelation. Then his next words were flared with anger and rage, “Then it is time I finished what I started!”

Gabriel’s wings flapped as he flew towards the human. Railtracer fired upon him but then the archangel began to maneuver and teleport from one side of the hallway to the next as he closed the distance at an alarming rate. Bullets whizzed past him before the assault carbine clicked empty inside the chamber, unlike the Gendarmes that Charlie had seen outside the hotel, her protector’s right hand extended out and seemed to reach out as if trying to hold onto something.

None of this made any sense as the princess mentally prepared to transition into her true demonic form. A tornado of fire spurred around her as a trident appeared in her hand while she quietly prayed for the masked man to still be alive when the transformation was done. As the flames flickered and disappeared, what she saw was the archangel performing an overhead swing upon the only man standing between himself and the Princess of Hell.

The post-apocalypse survivor’s hands seemed to appear as if he was holding something being swung to anticipate a strike. Yet, there was no weapon in his grasp until an elaborately decorated Zweihander materialized into reality, glowing in a golden aura clashing against the dual blades where steel struck steel. It was both surprising and terrifying that someone she once thought was a cooperative member of the hotel was capable of such.

“A service weapon attached to a soul like yours. You must be an angel slayer,” That last sentence sent a chill into the very core of her heart, knowing that there were people renowned for killing the servants of Heaven. Soon he quickly pushed Railtracer back as a flurry of blades attacked from various angles in swift succession. The Russian tried to fight back, attempting to parry each blade but the supernatural speed of the archangel was too much for him as his reaction was too slow to keep up. Then Gabriel’s swordsmanship managed to take the weapon out of his hands before he kicked back and landed on his back.

With nothing left to spare her friend from the blade, she charged forward thanks to the powers of Hell she had been born with. Just as the archangel was about to strike him down, her trident clashed with his blades. She made small jabs at his breastplate as her foe tapped his swords away from his torso. Charlie attempted to lunge for a deep blow but he teleported to the side of her weapon, using his swords to deflect her weapon and slide his weapon along the shaft, causing her hands to lose her grip. A brief moment later, he shoulder-charged the heiress as she found herself knocked back into a cabinet as books were knocked out of place and landed on her head.

“I must admit, this was surprisingly a good attempt but you are neither Lucifer nor Michael.”

The victor stood proudly in the hallway as the defeated combatants were left on the ground. She looked ahead to see Railtracer at his mercy while he reached for a sidearm in his holster. Yet, he never had a chance to pull it out as the armored warrior quickly cut a wound into the sides of both his arms, causing him to scream and yell out.

“To ever think you had a chance against the likes of me?” He added with arrogance in his voice, scoffing at what had transpired by the Russian who dared to stop him. “I am blessed by the light of the Holy Father, you are beneath me.”

He sheathed his swords before his hands reached the ceiling before his spear materialized into his grip. It would be an execution as Charlie began to plead out for her protector’s sake. “Don’t kill him!”

“You are in no position to make me and I am in no mood for mercy.”

She heard a small pop behind her the princess turned her head to what caused the origin of the noise, only to see a grapple hook launch past her and embed itself into Gabriel’s back. He screamed at the latest surprise attack before a blur of blue, red, green, and gold flew past her and came into contact with the archangel himself. Once it had impacted him, the would-be executioner was knocked forward before a red arm attached to a blue robotic figure extended into his spine until a loud forceful blast knocked the holy killer forward.

Her eyes couldn’t believe what had saved them as the grapple hook and the red arm were retracted back to its side. V1, the infamous machine created in Heaven, came to the rescue while wielding a green-tinted revolver at its side. To think that Verosika’s adoptive father would be the one to stop the menace that hunted her. Soon the archangel turned around and confronted it with anger from within. “You… machine… you have no right to interfere with my affairs!”

“You have lost,” It answered in its robotic voice, “Just not realized it.”

“We’ll see.” He replied as the terrifying opponent charged towards the machine, teleporting across the room in quick jumps.

In response, V1’s blue arm was quick to toss up four gold coins in the air and immediately fire upon the nearest one with its revolver. A golden trail left the barrel and immediately contacted the first one, it reflected, being redirected onto the next coin. One-by-one, the ‘bullet’ left a trail mid-air before the final reflection found the shot focusing on the oncoming angel attempting to destroy what had made the Hazbin Hotel. As it made its mark, a great explosion erupted in the hallway Gabriel found himself flying backward until his wings fluttered once more.

Once he had regained balance, the archangel found himself huffing underneath his armor with blood seeping out before he returned to the ground and knelt on one knee. For a brief moment, he looked at the ground while the machine slowly approached him. Then his voice gasped for air before a hand reached to his helmet. “All forces, I am ordering an immediate retreat. Fall back to the extraction, exfiltrate by any means necessary.”

The machine brandished another gold coin but instead of using it for another shot, it tossed it in the air and waited for the object to return before repeating the same process once again.

“To be defeated and mocked by a machine… and held back by a mere saved,” The silver that once encompassed his armor had transformed into crimson as he stood back up and slowly floated above the ground. His hands clenched before the rage from his heart revealed itself, “YOU INSIGNIFICANT FUCKS, THIS IS NOT OVER!!!”

A white flash exploded before Charlie’s eyes as Gabriel regained her sight and found that he was no longer present at the hotel. In a way she felt relief that her pursuer was gone, no longer after her. She would have to reward Verosika and her father once this was over. She looked at the blue war machine stop tossing the same coin in the air before it turned around, revealing the yellow ‘eye’ staring into her soul. The long look at one another changed when Railtracer groaned as both of his hands reached over for his arms covering the bleeding from the cuts he received. Seeing him at a moment of weakness spurred her to rise from the broken furniture her back rested against as she rushed over to his aid.

Chapter Text

The battle was over and a wave of relief washed over the survivors after enduring their encounter with Gabriel, Adam, and the exterminators. Where the sinners took a moment to savor their brief victory with V1’s impeccable timing, the sentiment wasn’t shared among the Purgatory Investigators and their leader. For they were in a dire situation where a war between Heaven and Hell would break out into the final extermination of the damned and the creatures who lived under the Holy Realm’s gaze.

Tony raided the Hazbin Hotel’s kitchen and opened the refrigerator to determine what he could eat. Sure, Courier Six may have eaten spinach puffs earlier but he burned those calories during the fighting. As he thought about the reality of his situation, he found a carton of eggs on a second shelf behind a case of milk. Then the second-in-command to the Archangel of Death closed the fridge and ferried his newfound loot over to the stove to his right, reaching for an empty pan before grabbing an egg and cracking it. Yolk spilled against the blackness while he switched the dial and heard the lighter click and turn gas into flames.

His body needed to feed for he had been awake and fueled by large concentrations of coffee after working for Azrael for so long. Just anything would satisfy his hunger and give the saved a few more hours of downtime to think about the future after the events that had transpired. Every safehouse throughout Pentagram City had been called upon to make their stand against Adam’s forces. They had paid a high price for such a desperate gamble with almost every single investigator and Gendarmes ruthlessly killed by the hands of traitors and zealots.

He rummaged through the drawers underneath the cabinet, only to brandish a black spatula as he chipped away at his cooked eggs, keeping his meal from sticking to the pan. Only three investigators remained with Artyom and Uhlman managing to survive the battle while Pavel was elsewhere. The casualty rate for the personnel losses was too noticeable for Tony to put under the rug as there were too many witnesses, presuming that Azrael was watching over the Hazbin Hotel. As of right now, he couldn’t fathom the reality that his superior would let him keep his job after such a disastrous engagement.

Now was not the time to think about the long-term future of his situation. What mattered in the end was that Charlie ‘Magne’ Morningstar wasn’t kidnapped and safe from the rogue members of the Holy Army. If he got the chance to debrief the Grim Reaper and the Council of Archangels, it would be a long and arduous task in its own right. Gabriel and Adam initiating the fighting to restart the primordial war between the two realms by breaking the ancient ceasefire treaty would be enough evidence to make them guilty. Well, it presumed they would take his word along with the princess and her sinners.

Any communications with the department’s headquarters had yet to come online and that factor worried him. If they couldn’t reach out to them by signal, the wastelander would have to try and find alternate methods to return to Heaven. It was perhaps the only way he could solidify his findings before the High Marshal and the Herald of the Apocalypse. How he was going to pull that off required ample convincing on his end. Yet, being second-in-command meant that he had access to several files involving VIP individuals in Hell from the lowest-ranking Hellborn to the societal elite of sinner overlords. It wasn’t his place to grant them concessions but his mission was too damn important.

Every option had to be exhausted.

Footsteps approached from behind as he heard Vaggie’s voice. “There you are! What the actual fuck, we didn’t give you any permission to the refrigerator?!”

“I needed to fix something quick. Got to keep moving.” He replied while his eyes couldn’t help themselves from drooping into a slumber.

“Didn’t you just eat earlier?” She asked as the unknowingly saved soul flanked him on his left, “That should have been enough for you.”

He let out a chuckle for he wanted to hint at the stressfulness that his duties brought to mind, body, and soul itself. “I work directly under the Archangel of Death. Believe me, you have no idea how long I’ve almost worked myself to a coffin. Hell, I can’t even remember the last time I’ve slept.”

“If you’re going to use our kitchen, ask us next time.”

“No guarantees, miss,” Tony remembered his role in the whole ordeal about her life in the depths of Hell. Part of him wanted to tell the truth but the other half whispered against it for her response would be almost akin to wrath. Maybe he would tell it to her later as their current predicament needed mending. “Charlie and the rest of you guys can’t stay here, not after what happened.”

“Do you think they’re going to come back?” This time, she seemed curious.

“You tell me.”

The moth girl shook her head in disbelief as she leaned her back against the counter to his left while crossing her arms. “Oh god, they’re going to try again. I hope you have an answer to prevent this.”

“I just spent ninety-nine percent of all investigators and Gendarmes stationed in Pentagram City. All those men and women were my answer. We are all shit out of luck.” He may have had his eyes hidden away underneath his helmet’s red glare; however, he caught a glimpse of despair in the young woman accompanying him.

“This can’t be it,” She reluctantly stated, “I can’t let them take Charlie. She’s too good of a person.”

To have hoped ripped from the denizens of Hell was an all too common sight; yet, he would not comply with that social expectation. With that, he concocted a half-baked plan about leaving Hell and entering Heaven. “I know. What I say might shock you as we’ll be forced to leave the hotel at some point.”

Her back was erected upon hearing what may have been a plan in the first place. If only she knew he was just giving her a bit of rope to hang her hopes on. “You want us to leave? To go where?”

“Upstairs,” The courier answered as he pointed upwards, hinting at the one place the sinners were denied salvation from, “I’m going to break a lot of rules but we need to get to Heaven.”

“What?” She was flabbergasted by this decision.

“Look, everyone in this building is in a shit situation. Staying here in Hell is giving Gabriel and his followers ample opportunity to try the same stunt one more time. I’m not going to give that sly bastard the satisfaction. If we reach Heaven, I can advocate for all of you about what we just saw and the rest of the Council of Archangels will turn against him.”

“I know you’re trying to give us options but this is too insane. Heaven sent exterminators every year to wipe us out. This… this can’t work.”

He let go of his grip on the panhandle as he turned to the moth sinner. His body was beginning to be pushed towards its limit. “We have no choice because we have no chance down here. Either we try the impossible or your girlfriend gets taken.”

“How can you be so damn sure that we’ll be allowed? Do you expect us to just waltz right in without any trouble coming from that? Do you have any idea how they’ll react when we show up in front of the gates?” Vaggie was overthinking the potential for what could go wrong; yet, he couldn’t help himself from smiling underneath his helm. For he had his own secrets to help them push forward. Tony was about to continue but then his exhaustion finally took over his body.

“Oh, Christ.”

He collapsed to the ground as his body landed against the marble tiles and his torso lay on its side. His company knelt by his side as she helped him up. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My caffeine ran out,” The second-in-command acknowledged as he began to close his eyes, almost embracing the reality that would sleep on the floor, “I was hoping those eggs would help me through but it looks like I need a couple of hours of shut-eye. Care to spare a room?”

She looked worried for him while her grip pulled on his armored chest piece, enough to get him to sit upright. “I’ll get Charlie but you better tell her about your plan once you finish sleeping. 

It should have been a normal day for Emily, somehow it wasn’t. Her superior had called upon Emily to come to and join her visit to the Department of Purgatory. Sera had noticed an issue at Azrael’s headquarters based on the streets and roads being closed off in the surrounding areas. They were eager to investigate for both were part of the Seraphim Guard and Heaven’s security was paramount.

The youngling had heard rumors that the Council of Archangels was trying to handle a case about a weapons shipment the guard was meant to receive. Yet, they didn’t notify Sera about any important developments worthy of their attention. Why her uncles did this to her mother, she did not know only that there was animosity between her and the Archangels. She hoped there was an explanation to clear the mystery when it was time to reveal the truth about the convoy attack.

They flew across the city towards the large office building towering over the next three neighborhoods. A part of the structure blew up, leaving behind black smoke and fire. Debris descended below as the young Seraphim grew concerned about the safety of others. “There might be people down there who need our help. Let’s go!”

“Emily, show a bit of caution.” Her mother stated as she followed after the eager angel.

Concrete and glass crashed on the sidewalk and street below but they were fortunate to find that no one was present at the landing debris. Then she saw movement to the left side of the building, where the main entrance was. Hundreds of Gendarmes were present, using their authoritative power to warn the saved away from approaching while dozens of their own ran inside while equipped with automatic weapons. Both swooped down as they landed on their feet and transformed into their more human-like appearances in front of the eyes of the Holy Kingdom.

The passing members of the Department of Purgatory nodded their heads or gave a quick salute before carrying out their duties. Emily looked around to feel a sense of despair as the conversations among their ranks were much more somber than she had anticipated. Then the Seraphim looked ahead and saw a dark figure in a black cloak loom over his army like a great evil tower. It was a terrifying sight to see the great Archangel of Death in person while her uncle held on to the shaft of his scythe. “We have to see what’s going on with Azrael.”

They walked towards him while his back was turned. It seemed as if he was distracted by two radio operators flanking his side, both trying to issue orders and commands onto the phones wired to their radio packs. Whatever it was, they were frantically trying to convey the image to the Grim Reaper’s ears.

Soon the radioman to his left was loud enough for her to hear about the current situation as he yelled at his peer. “My gunships do not see the hostiles. Reaves, you got to tell your guys to mark their floors right now!”

“We have no clear sections! There are friendlies and hostiles mixed in all over the building!” Shouted the radio operator to Azrael’s left as he turned to the head of the department, “Sir, we have no lines. I’m trying to unclear this clusterfuck but every time we try to secure a floor, the bastards are mixed in with our guys.”

She saw her uncle’s head move and looked up at the building for a brief moment. Then his bony fingers tightened around his weapon before picking it up to tap at the ground three times. Whatever was happening felt important, too much to be ignored. Then Death revealed his raspy voice and final intentions. “I’m going to cleanse the building myself. We must reclaim our headquarters if we are to return to our regular operations.”

Both the radiomen stopped and stared at their leader while he took a large deep breath and released with a great exhale. Emily became enthralled with what the archangel was seeking to do until he lunged his scythe upwards, high enough to reach the multi-storied building’s top. Her gaze noticed the blade etched into the top floor while the shaft hung out in the air. Then a black mist emanated from his cloak, causing everyone around to watch in fear and awe at an aspect of his role in Heavenly society. Soon his body burst into a murder of crows as they began to fly around the building in a circular motion. Each bird released a cloud of darkness which was created by a trail left behind. Such power encompassed the entire building upwards with each bird carefully drowning the main building for the Department of Purgatory.

When the roof had been reached, minutes passed as the young angel couldn’t help herself from asking a question. “Mother, what is going on?”

“Azrael is using one of his many powers as the Archangel of Death. The last time I’ve seen him do this was when he took all the firstborns in Egypt.” She gave a trembling answer while the daughter sensed a realization to respect this uncle in particular. Heaven’s great punishments against those who stood against the Holy Father’s authority. If he was performing such an act, who in their right mind would incite such a response?

The smoke began to disperse as the top of the building revealed the Grim Reaper looking down upon those who had witnessed his power. With his iconic weapon in hand, he leaped from the edge and gracefully descended to the congested street. The Gendarmes had noticed his jump as they dispersed and created enough space for their archangel’s landing. Emily also guessed that it was to avoid being crumpled by their superior. When his feet touched the ground, the asphalt street was smashed after taking the full brunt of the impact.

“Quite the performance. I wonder what could compel you to engage in violence after all of this time.”

It was here that the imposing figure erected himself while his hand maintained a grip on his scythe, using it like a walking cane. He approached the two while the youngest angel saw a glimpse of his gaze. “There is a situation that demands my attention, one involving my investigation.”

“Council business, I presume?” Sera suggested as she continued the conversation in a cordial tone, “I’ve received news, unprecedented ones, where Heaven is undergoing a series of attacks. As the commander of the Seraphim Guard, I am behooved to deal with this issue personally.”

“Not with this. I cannot let anyone interfere with this investigation as too much is on the line for those involved.” He answered in a legalese manner before he stopped several meters away from the high-ranking angels.

“Too much on the line for the Council or is it too much for you to lose? I answer to the Holy Father, Azrael.”

“Be careful with that tone of yours,” The archangel replied with a cold but venomous tone. His tense and antagonistic view of her mother established a hostility she did not expect from him, “Your authority resides in the Garden and nowhere else. It does not dwell over my department. Remember that, Sera.”

She had to break the ice before the two decided to get into a fight. Emily knew about the stories of her uncles during the War in Heaven and it was often related to ruthless bloodshed. The last situation she would want to find herself in is a family lashing out over a dispute. “Uncle? I’m sure the virtues and the rest of Heaven would like an explanation as to why your headquarters is in a war zone.”

“I would want to divulge this information but as my subordinate would say, I need to play my hand close to my chest. Too many eyes are watching over me, friend and enemy alike.” Came his reply while his gaze looked down upon her.

“Please, I can’t just go back empty-handed.” She had been visited upon by the saved and other Heavenborn - all looking out for answers from one of Heaven’s admirable officials. The Seraphim needed to grant them any scraps of understanding to make sense of this chaos to calm the people.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry but I cannot. Lives are on the line.”

A Gendarme ran out of the building with absolute haste. His weapon slung over his chest as he gave his hardest to run against the hard ground his peers defended. “Archangel!”

“Yes?” Azrael turned around to face this soldier of his, who had been masked in a black balaclava, “Take a deep breath and report.”

“Whatever you did, we’re pushing them back but we came across the Isra system.” The exhausted runner explained.

“What happened?”

“They sabotaged the Isra. All connection to our safehouses is gone. Even our Hellside communications have been cut off. It looked like they were trying to hold us off as much as possible until you cleansed the building.”

Emily took a moment to realize what had been said. Why were people attacking the Department of Purgatory trying to cut off a teleporter and communication systems? Sooner or later, they would be overpowered and the machines would be repaired in due time unless that delay was the entire point. Were the attackers trying to do something that would distract the Archangel of Death from noticing their true intentions? “I don’t know who is attacking you, Uncle Azrael, but maybe they were trying to do something without you noticing.”

He looked over his shoulder for a brief moment, stealing a glance from her as he returned his gaze to the tired messenger. “You might be on to something.”

There had been a noticeable blackout throughout all of Pentagram City. Cherri believed that it was a ruse for one of the overlords to get the edge over another but that didn’t happen. Airships and helicopters descended from that white dot in the sky and began their attack. Sure, the exterminators swooping down with blessed spears was a terror in itself. It was a different experience to see war machines open their side doors so gunners could hose innocents in the wake of their arrival with bullets. What truly caught her attention was the fact that they were all assaulting the Hazbin Hotel. She could have run and fled but a friend of hers was there. Angel Dust didn’t need to suffer to die alone.

The bomber came across the front of the hotel and found herself mixed in the remains of a battlefield. Cars, that were either burned out or wrecked by gunfire, littered the road and sidewalks. Meanwhile, bodies littered the front lawn with the corpses of exterminators with their golden blood dried out. It was interesting as the sinner passed over some of the bodies wearing black uniforms, kevlar body armor, and ballistic helmets along with firearms with glowing emblems. She probably should have gotten her hands on the equipment but her friend’s well-being was paramount than the selfish desire for power.

Cherri continued to approach the front door with the one question that was on her mind. What the hell happened here?

When she arrived at the front door, its hinges appeared to have been bent as if someone or something had tried to break through the entrance. That was a sign for her to prepare her mind that the homosexual porn star might not have lived through this. Yet, she couldn’t help herself from reaching for the doorbell and tapping on the button.

A bell rang throughout the building before footsteps on the other side made their way toward the door. One hand reached behind her back, grabbing ahold of her explosives, preparing if the host was no longer the famed Princess Charlie or the company she kept to herself. Yet, her shoulders relaxed upon hearing the owner’s voice. “Coming!”

“Your highness, you can’t just casually unlock the door. Not after what happened,” A  man informed her from inside with a Russian accent. Cherri remembered that Lucifer’s daughter had one in her company; yet, this guy sounded different from the one she knew about, “Let me go and check.”

“No, really, it’s fine. We’re all safe-”

He cut her off. “I know you mean well but we can’t be too sure.”

An additional set of footsteps approached the door as the knob turned and the locking mechanisms shifted. When the door finally opened, the sinner was taken aback by a human standing before her with a pistol drawn and aimed at her while he kept his weapon close to his chest. His appearance was the same as the bodies of those who were impaled or torn up by the exterminators. “Uh? That’s new.”

“Get inside, now.” The Russian ordered while gesturing for the cyclops girl to come. She skirted past him as he scanned past her with an attentive gaze before Cherri Bomb found the princess of Hell waiting for her in the hallway.

“So, care to tell me what’s going on?”

The door behind her closed as the overlord slipped her bombs back into her belt while the half-succubus and half-archangel child led her deeper into the building. Soon the royal brought her to the main entrance hall, where blood stains and corpses were strewn about. A glance at her surroundings revealed broken furniture and walls filled with bullet holes. “I’ve been busy but it involved an archangel and an army of exterminators trying to attack my hotel and attempt to kidnap me.”

“Fuck,” Popular knowledge about Charlie discouraged the sinners and the average Hellborn from swearing in front of the heir. Yet, she had to emphasize how flabbergasted that this place underwent an assault far worse than the yearly exterminations. They stopped at the base of a flight of the main stairs before turning to confront each other about the recent event, “Now, I’m a hardcore gal but that is way beyond me.”

“You have no idea. They were very close to capturing me. That guy you saw back there works for something called the Department of Purgatory. They’re an organization that works for Heaven.”

That final sentence alone was enough for Cherri to try and widen her single eye large enough into a globe. “You’re kidding me. Heaven came down here to protect your ass… from another group of Heaven trying to take you?”

“When you put it like that, yeah it’s hard to wrap your head around it,” She openly admitted before letting out a deep breath, “I’m just glad that the Department of Purgatory isn’t so bad as I would imagine them to be.”

“Cherri, baby! I’m glad to see you’re here!” Angel Dust shouted from the top of the stairs as the two looked up to see him descend by sitting on the wooden railing. In his hand, he was carrying his pet, Nuggets as he tightened his embrace of the piglet to his chest

The sinner was relieved that her friend was alive after all of this time. “I thought you got smoked for good.”

“Ah, I’m too good-looking to be shot at anyway,” The spider replied as he dismissed her comment with a wave of his hand, “Let’s just say that if it wasn’t for some friends in some holy places, I don’t think all of Hell would like to have their favorite cock whisperer to go out like that.”

“Don’t say it like that.” She walked up and hugged him while trying to maintain her punk appearance. Truth was, it would only be a matter of minutes for the cyclops bomber to burst into tears if it wasn’t for her friend’s crude humor.

“Say, Charlie, what’s going to happen now that we’ve held them off?”

“Held off who?” Spoke a regal man from behind Cherri’s back. She broke her embrace and turned around, only to find a pale blonde man in a white suit and a top hat. The sinner wasn’t big on keeping up with names; however, everyone had to pay attention whenever the monarch of the Dark Realm made his presence known. It’s just that she couldn’t believe that the King of Hell would appear before her like that.

“Dad!” The princess cried out as she ran up to him as the two embraced each other with arms over their shoulders, “How did you get here all of sudden?”

“Fallen archangel, remember? Even now, I still have my powers. Now, aside from my sudden arrival, does anybody know what is happening?”

The cyclops sinner watched as the daughter summoned her courage to explain the events to him. “We were attacked by an Archangel by the name of Gabriel.” His hands clenched into fists and the cane he had brought with him had a grip so tight, Cherri couldn’t tell if the apple at the top was about to fly out, “If it wasn’t for the Department of Purgatory, I think they would have succeeded in kidnapping me.”

“I was worried for a mere moment but I’m glad that my faith wasn’t misplaced,” He replied as he continued the serious conversation, “There were many bodies outside, was there anyone from this department who survived?”

“There’s this guy named Tony. He said that he works directly under your brother but two others made it through. One of them is watching the front door while Artyom is getting patched up by one of my guests.”

He raised his head as if Lucifer ‘Magne’ Morningstar knew from the very beginning. “Azrael picked the right man to protect you.”

“Say what?” Cherri asked, flabbergasted by the response.

“My brother picked a man to pretend he’s a sinner in order to get close to my daughter and act as her protector. I met the man myself in the great cells of Prince Stolas’ mansion as a way to see if he was worthy of the responsibility I was granting him. For someone so inexperienced with a service weapon, he has done much with so little.”

Charlie’s surprised reaction to this revelation incited a response. “You knew he wasn’t a sinner all along.”

“Yes,” He nodded his head, “Azrael wanted me to keep that secret because it appears my siblings are in the middle of an investigation about rogue Holy Army personnel acting out of place. It seems to me that the rot has spread far enough for them to come at after you.”

“Ugh, this makes my head hurt.”

“The Grim Reaper always had a knack for this sort of thing. Your mother is going to visit the hotel but I’m bringing out my forces to guard this place. They won’t have an opportunity to try a second time, not with me around.”

The Father of humanity and his lieutenant sat on the passenger side of a helicopter. Sure, they could fly but he was lazy enough to sit down and take a moment to think. Their plan of attack against Hell itself had gone so wrong and yet they were so close to taking the princess. Now they were fleeing at least fifty miles east of Pentagram City. There was a hidden base in the Badlands; yet, the massive air fleet would be difficult to hide after so many eyes have caught wind of their appearance.

Their helicopter began to descend; among other squadrons, and landed into a multitude of landing pads built into the slopes of a canyon. The moment they had touched the ground, Adam eagerly jumped out as his second-in-command followed suit. “Sir, I know it’s not my place to question but what will happen from now on? All of Hell knows what we tried to do and it’s only a matter of time until the rest of Heaven finds out about our plan. Lucifer is going to respond after what we tried to do.”

“Worry not,” He had to reassure her as the landing pad slid into the canyon slope. The moment they were out of sight from the light, the fake metal wall closed in from behind and sealed the entrance shut, temporarily hiding the zealous remains of the Holy Army’s wrath. He turned to her and placed his hands on the shoulders of the exterminator with the hope that his superior would have a backup plan, “Knowing Gabriel, he definitely accounted for this reality. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have tried without acknowledging that risk.”

“I know we are interrupting Azrael operations but will he be able to locate us with ease after they take out our distraction forces?”

Adam turned away as they both pressed deeper into the cliffside hangers built into Hell. He didn’t have much of an answer for her since he was so eager to make sure that their first plan would be their one and only. Nonetheless, he had options as the Archangel of Judges would allocate what resources remained for the cause. Whether the Department of Purgatory would figure them out was up to the Holy Father. “I don’t know. Right now, we need to recover and cure our wounds. The sinners need to pay for their defiance; however, we also need to make our next strike the last one against the fallen one.”

“It’s going to be harder given the operational losses to our fleet. I heard stories about V1 but it’s hard to believe it would side work against us.” The name of the forbidden prototype reached his ears and it almost made the first man shudder. What reason did God have to create a war machine so great and terrible that it required blood as fuel? The very fact he was questioning his creator was akin to heresy yet the purpose of the question only drew curious thoughts about his intentions. It was the whole reason why they had to retreat for it had the gall to defend Lucifer’s Hellspawn from Gabriel’s reach. More importantly, was it operating on its own or merely adhering to directives?

They exited the hangar and went deeper into the Hellside facility built into the canyon. Hallways of concrete with high-level lighting maintained the atmosphere of an organized fortress deep in Lucifer’s kingdom. This place had been built to maintain the offensive once the Holy Army came to unleash the cutting blow on the Dark Realm’s monarch, its queen, and heir. Yet, without any sign of the other archangels on the council joining their ranks, the surviving saved and Heavenborn soldiers had to make this place their own. Empty bunks became occupied and the armory stores were finally opened for the first time to be used for the coming escalation of conflict between Heaven and Hell.

Adam and Lute entered an elevator as they descended deeper into the levels. Gabriel was likely to be in the command center, organizing his next attacks but the first man pondered about what he could do to help. Maybe there was a chance for him to deal with Lilith and Charlie “Magne” Morningstar once more to emphasize the fallen archangel’s weakness which was his love for family.

When their ride slowed to a halt, the doors slid wide open as they entered the command center. Large consoles were operated by technical members of the Holy Army’s signallers while a large screen covered the entirety of the wall across from him. Various assets were being organized to their destinations while a tall archangel towered over his subordinates with both of his swords sheathed at his side. Upon closer inspection, the first man noticed that the blood on his armor remained stained from those who tried to stop him.

Gabriel, the Archangel of Judges, turned around and faced the leader of the exterminators while his blue wings had yet to appear. “It appears my gamble has not paid off. We may have been close to capturing the princess but it was not enough.”

“Don’t worry sir. We’ll get them and I’ll make sure of it. All we need are your orders and we’ll gladly carry them out.” Lute dutifully commented as she seemed eager to perform her charge. That was one of the reasons why he was made his second-in-command.

“I applaud your willingness but we can’t rush back to Pentagram city for faith alone cannot sustain our operations without a plan to go with it,” He stated his respect before his helmet turned to Adam, focusing his full attention on him, “We will need to recover but there might be a second chance at finishing Lucifer’s folly once and for all.”

The father of humanity was curious to know what he had in mind. “Sir, have you made one?”

“Not yet but our immediate departure from the capital of Pride has left many of our comrades behind. No doubt, Azrael will dispatch the forces I deployed at his headquarters but perhaps our brethren could search for the safe houses under the Department of Purgatory. If we can return and infiltrate these locations, it gives us ample time to try once more. Plus, I may be able to ferry reinforcements should we redirect the Isra to my loyal contingents.”

“In other words,” The exterminator wondered if he could reconnect with the lost personnel in the city, “We just need to call our people.”

He nodded his head with approval. “This base has a long-range communication center inside. Perhaps your musical talent might be able to distribute coded messages until I deem a worthy opportunity to finish this matter once and for all.”

The idea had potential as Adam grew excited within his very soul. Ever since the invention of rock, he had grown fond of its music and took it to heart. Being recognized for his talent made him smile gleefully at his superior. What mattered was that he performed his role in this great plan of his.

An investigator for the Department of Purgatory had found himself sitting quietly on the third floor, overlooking the front entrance of the building. Yet, he had been occupied by Mrs. Mayberry helping him with his wounds. The Russian had been forced to take off his uniform shirt as the sinner wrapped dressings over his wounds. There was an uneasy silence between the two ever since they recognized his true identity when he took on an archangel.

The teacher finished dressing his left arm as she began dressing his other limb. Although the cuts weren’t deep, he could still feel the pain from an angelic blade was far more unique than anything he had encountered in his life. Despite acquiring that sword, he was outmatched if he attempted to avenge his colonel without proper training. If it wasn’t for V1, he wouldn’t have lived.

He looked out the window to see the ancient war machine jump and slide from rooftop to rooftop. A brief moment of gunfire would erupt and all it would take for the assailants to be dispatched was a few coins and a single revolver shot. There were still rogue Holy Army soldiers out there even after the main force left and he still had to keep an eye on the princess’ behalf as that was his charge by her father.

When Mayberry finished wrapping his right arm, she leaned back in her chair and readjusted her glasses. “There. You’re all patched up.”

Artyom couldn’t help himself from smiling at her as he buttoned up his shirt and reached for a discarded Kevlar vest resting by his leg. After he started to wear his ballistic armor atop his bloodied uniform, the teacher expressed a concerned look at him before looking down at the floor. “Is there something wrong?”

“You didn’t tell us that you worked for the Department of Purgatory.”

“My orders didn’t allow me to,” He replied but the Russian knew she deserved more than just an explanation, “Did you know how hard it was to not tell everyone that I’m not a sinner? There are consequences if I told you why I had to play pretend.”

“Was that thing we had with us and Verosika also pretending as well?” His words unintentionally inflicted damage on her.

He shook his head for the former Polis Ranger of the Spartan Order had his reasons to be here. Yet, telling her that he was on a quest for vengeance would not translate well into the love that was shared among the three. Artyom reached out and grabbed her hand, all while looking at her as honestly as his heart could give. “No. I may have acted on behalf of my orders but you and Verosika weren’t part of that. The department has a long-standing policy that discourages relationships with anyone here, sinners and Hellborn alike. If it means anything to you, I genuinely love both of you.”

“I want to believe you, I do, but this is not the first time I fell for a lie. How can you be so sure and honest with me if you had to act like this in the first place?”

“Difference is that I have the Archangel of Death and the King of Hell breathing down my neck.” He hinted at his previous encounter with them. The former granting him an opportunity to seek out his father-in-law’s killer and the latter entrusting the Russian with the safety of his daughter.

“That is somehow a legit reason?” The teacher seemed skeptical as Artyom readjusted his chair to showcase his attempt to maintain the relationship he had with the sinner and the succubus, “You can’t just hide behind orders and use them as an excuse.”

“I’m not.”

He didn’t know how to navigate through this. Well, his only experience of navigating a relationship this intimate was with his wife, and that limited exposure showed in this conversation. “Then that is not enough.”

“When I told you I died for Anna’s sake, it was no lie. She meant a lot to me since finding love is harder to find than gold in my case,” The post-apocalypse survivor stated as he hoped that understanding would convince her to see his side. Memories of his marriage proposal in front of the surviving members of the Spartan Order went through his mind about his vows and obligations. While he did hold some love back for the wife he left behind, his death gave him a moment of perspective about the closing of chapters, “It wasn’t until we had these conversations that I’ve gotten close to someone. Even when I earned my spot in Heaven, working at a cubicle from nine to five, there was no reason for me to try living when all I knew was back on Earth. Now? You and Verosika changed that for me. Sure, I had my orders but I also looked forward to seeing either of you smile. Please, believe me when my love is not some figment of imagination.”

“I guess I’m so used to being treated like a damn fool that I don’t know the truth from the lies anymore. Maybe you are trying to be good to me.” She stood up and rearranged her steel chair beside his as they sat together. Her head rested on his shoulder while they looked out at the sunset.

“That makes two of us. I don’t know what will become of us from now on but I’m going to make this work between all of us.”

“Then we need to try and carefully handle Verosika when we get the chance. The poor girl doesn’t know what she’s in for when you tell her about this Department of Purgatory.”

“We’ll cross the bridge when the time comes. Right now, we need to worry about ourselves for the time being.” His right hand clutched onto her left as he enjoyed their view of the ‘sun’ in the background despite the war zone taking place throughout Pentagram City.

A phone rang on his person while Mrs. Mayberry erected herself on the chair. “Who is calling you right now?”

“I don’t know,” He said with reluctance before he reached into the pocket of his Kevlar vest and pulled out his phone. The caller identification revealed that it came from the owner of I.M.P. “It’s Blitzo.”

“The imp? What does he want right now?”

He shrugged his shoulders while his thumb reached for the green button on the screen and tapped it. There was a brief moment of silence while the Russian waited for a response; however, not a sound echoed from the speaker. Someone would have to speak and Artyom took his chance to be the first one to talk. “Blitz?”

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my trustworthy gun fixer. I’m grateful that Moxxie and Millie are alive and I have to thank you for helping them get back to my workplace.” The Hellborn stated but the tone seemed sarcastic. It seemed that he wanted to be genuine; yet, the reaction felt ominous.

“That’s good to hear. I hope that they’re alright.”

“They’re fine. It’s just that they told me that you’re not even a sinner,” The masquerade had fallen and the sound of a bitter man became clear, “I kinda want a big fucking explanation as to who you are and why you were going undercover.”

“Sir, it’s a long story and I can’t explain everything since it’s too important.” He initially hoped that the imp would understand his position.

“Look, Rusky, this conversation needs to happen right fucking now! Mox said that you work for Heaven, now I don’t know who do you think you are but I don’t like it when people play pretend with me. Why didn’t you come to me about this?”

Artyom was baffled by this question and for good reason. Before recent events, his organization would never tolerate witnesses unless ordered otherwise. What also didn’t help was the unfortunate reality that Azrael was well aware of the assassination business. “As if I could! You don’t have a clue about the kind of consequences you would face if I told you the truth. My department would silence you with a bullet and they already have your names on their shitlist.”

“Wait, you mean to say that they knew everything about my secret human-killing operation?” From the way the boss sounded, he seemed just as surprised. Nonetheless, he would hint at how recognized they were among the investigators and gendarmes.

“You have a television ad that is constantly replayed on a channel that nobody watches, except for us. It’s not a secret when my people put it on break during the lunchrooms or when we’re tired of the usual holier-than-though shows. The only reason we haven’t acted against you is because whatever kills you make don’t fall under our jurisdiction. Not yet, anyhow.”

“Shit and call me some fertilizer, I didn’t think Heaven would notice us.” His surprise was a relief to the Russian’s ears. Blitz’s attitude was very crude and blunt but he was easy to get through at times, “So, uh, want to talk to the whole gang about that whole exterminator thing going earlier?”

It was tempting to bring the truth over the call but intuition took over when he remembered that there were still leftovers from the attack. “No. Not on this call. I’m afraid the wrong people might be listening in. Come to the hotel if you want to know more.”

“Can’t. Got to meet up with my so-called benefactor to extend the lease of his damn book.”

“Stolas?”

“Yep, the birdie who arrested you. Before I end this call, I have to be official and say that you’re fired.”

“Not surprised given what I have to work with.” The post-apocalypse survivor answered with utmost confidence as his form of insult.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Look, shit-ass, I’ll have yo-”

Artyom tapped on the red phone symbol to end the call before placing the device downward on his lap. Well, whatever prior relationships he had with I.M.P. have been compromised for better and for worse. Moxxie was supposed to keep his end of the secrecy with Tony but clearly, he broke it. With the cat out of the bag, it was only a matter of time before the rest of Hell caught wind of the Department of Purgatory hiding out in their dark kingdom.

Mrs. Mayberry let out a chuckle as he turned his head to see the teacher cross her legs. “The last time I met with the imp, his employee almost killed me by complete accident. I don’t know how you’re able to keep a straight face around that idiot.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps God can answer that question.”

Chapter Text

A lone imp drove his van to the familiar mansion where his boyfriend resided. Well, Blitzo didn’t know the current status of their relationship but he still hoped that their sessions wouldn’t be interrupted by the new chaos that ensued in Pride. There was a passionate desire to ravish the Goetia in his own bed; however, hints of hesitation and self-doubt tempered the assassin from escalating that love into a substantial and permanent role in his life. Perhaps he was overthinking this transaction that had been initiated from the earliest days of I.M.P’s but those quiet moments in those covers seemed to tell a different story.

He turned his vehicle into the driveway and expected to be met by a locked gate. Yet, this was a different situation as the Hellborn pushed against the brakes and took in the scenery in front of his car. Someone managed to bust through and hard with black tire tracks imprinting the assault on the Stolas’ mansion. The carnivorous plants that would normally be decorated along the garden paths leading to the porch had their ‘heads’ ripped off or riddled with bullets. Even then, the remaining survivors were thinner and wilting underneath the sky. Their owner always fed them with gusto and care.

Suspicious, the low-born creature reached around his seat and pulled out a sniper rifle loaded with Railtracer’s special rounds. The mere thought of the human irked his thoughts as he had been deceived by his true intentions but his actions as the company’s repairman remained. One of these days, he’s going to search around at the Hazbin Hotel and berate the lying sack of shit. Then he would demand an explanation as to why he played undercover with the denizens of Hell.

Blitzo dismounted from his car and quickly rushed to the main entrance whose doors had been left open. By the time he was there, all he could find was a hallway filled with torn carpets and broken furniture by the door. Someone broke in and seemed to have left a mess behind. Who in their right mind would do such a thing to a Hellborn noble? Even if they could, every imp knew that an Ars Goetia wouldn’t hesitate to be ruthless to defend their home. Unless someone was capable of stopping one.

The last thought sent a chill to his bone as he immediately rushed inside and began to cry out for his lover’s well-being. It couldn’t be real and had to be some kind of twisted prank that was just there to hurt his pride. “Stolas, this better be a joke! Come out right now and maybe I’ll give you a new record up the ass.”

Hesitation transitioned into anticipation as the voice of the owl demon didn’t reply while searching through the hallways. His presence somehow made life in Hell a little bit worth living while the CEO searched the rooms along the way. Yet, his fears became realized when Blitzo came across the corpses of imps whose bodies were attracting flies and other insects into the open. Some had their life taken away as if they were unaware of their killer’s arrival while others seemed to be tortured on the sport or tried to struggle against their assailants. Not a single one was spared an easy death.

Each search into the rooms along the main hallway was just as terrible as the last. Despite the sight of servants being so plentiful, not a single piece of Stolas’ whereabouts could be found. If he did miss it, the imp surmised it would be a waste of time given the size of his lover’s ‘humble’ abode while further inspection shortened the length of the hallway to the other side.

The gun in his hands continued to clench harder with each failing look at the dead. His eyes wanted to release the floodgates until he found even the slightest clue worth a damn. On the other hand, anger and rage simmered from a mere possibility into reality should the killer be so eager to insult the noble’s memory by returning to the scene of the crime. Part of him wanted to lash out and kill the person on the spot. If there was a group, he’d personally take his time torturing them and spare the last to extract what information could be found on his boyfriend’s whereabouts.

Blitzo arrived at the last door in the hallway and tempered the rising wrath from surging out of control. This was the final opportunity to determine whether the meaning in his life was surely snuffed out. To say that managing his emotions was a difficult aspect was an understatement to anyone who knew about them. With his sniper rifle in one hand, he reached out to the doorknob and turned, slowly pushing forward to find what was left of the Goetian house. Soon, the hinges creaked as he swung it inside with his barrel slipping through the opening and flicking the fire modes into automatic.

When he summoned the courage to enter the room, all he found were more bodies littered on the far side of the living room. Holding out for some vain hope that he wouldn’t have to face the reality of what just happened did little to ease his mind. He was distraught with the idea that someone so important and close to him could disappear in such a way. The imp wanted to be angry and lash out at the feelings of regret but he could only fall to his knees and scream to the stars.

A cold chill ran down his spine and soon the Hellborn paused to get a sense of his surroundings. He was never one to believe in having a sixth sense; however, the feeling of someone watching over him felt strong. “Who’s there?!”

Blitzo frantically looked around and aimed his rifle at wherever he looked. Now, whoever lurked to close any loose ends would have a bad time with the owner of I.M.P. Anyone willing to get on his nerves would learn of the wrath that had entered his mind from the moment he entered his boyfriend’s estate. Despite the possibility of someone being close, his eyes noticed the floor and caught a glimpse of a ruffled feather lying on the floor. His hand reached out and picked it up, perhaps it was a clue?

His nose managed to grasp a familiar scent, one that was too expensive for the likes of the lowest of Hell’s society, Hellborn and sinners alike. What was certain was that it belonged to Stolas and maybe it could lead him to his location. After all, his daughter was a Hellhound and they had a unique ability to track their prey. While his employees would think it was some sort of kink, the imp could probably explain that he’s just looking out for the Goetia to whom they owe their livelihoods.

The second-in-command to the Archangel of Death opened his eyes for the first time since his slumber. Tony lived a life nearing exhaustion but made small steps never to let it interfere with his duties until now. His effort in stalling the attack and kidnapping had sapped away his energy from performing on behalf of the Department of Purgatory. As he sat up from his bed, the courier looked around surrounded by a luxurious room and silk bedsheets. Any longer and the saved would have considered laying his back down and enjoying himself in the Hazbin Hotel if his mind wasn’t so focused on evacuating Archangel Lucifer’s daughter out of Hell.

He thought about pulling the soft blanket off himself until the door ahead of him was kicked open wide. Old habits demanded that he instinctively reach for his pistols until his mind quickly recognized Princess Charlie Magne Morningstar standing in the doorway holding a tray occupied by a bowl, a glass of orange juice, and a mug of what he presumed to be coffee. “Good, morning!”

“What’s going on?” Her ecstatic mood was certainly charming and the former post-apocalypse survivor appreciated the welcoming sight of a hotel manager bringing food to him.

“I heard that you collapsed and Vaggie dragged you to one of our rooms,” She began, reminding him of his body failing him until he fell into a slumber, “Then she explained that you were just so tired. I thought about making you a great energizing meal to begin the day.”

“Look, appreciate what you’re doing but I have a job to do.” He tried to reason with her as the priority of her safety meant more than his well-being. That and he needed to take that initiative before the window of opportunity closed. Yet, the princess eagerly walked over to his bedside and placed the food tray across from him.

“As the owner of this hotel and the princess of Hell, I will not let you leave until you get something to eat. You can begin your work after you finish eating.”

“I don’t need this much, just something small enough-” He was about to lift the tray until the royal of the dark realm leaned forward and planted the handle with enough strength. It took him by surprise as the department’s second-in-command recognized a hint of her power as her gaze fell upon the servant of Heaven.

“This is not a suggestion but a command,” The heir began as she leaned back and sat beside his legs, “Consider this my gratitude for helping my hotel and saving its people.”

Tony relented and was convinced by the girl, not like he had much of a choice as he looked down at his meal to find a bowl of oatmeal and the rising heat. “Fine.”

It was fresh out of the pot and he surely would snatch at the adjacent silver spoon. Grabbing the utensil, he scooped a small fraction of the main morning course and ate. Warm baked oats managed to slither through as his stomach became warm from the simple nutritious portion.

“Did you cook this?” Charlie smiled as if she was looking for his approval. Then his eyes trailed to the white mug and he reached out to quench his thirst, taking a sip of hot caffeine to rejuvenate him for what lay ahead of him and the bloodline of the fallen archangel.

“I know this might seem out of place but what does your department think of your Hazbin Hotel? Just, be honest with me as I’d like to improve upon it as much as possible when I get the chance to bring people to Heaven.”

He lowered the mug from his lips and looked down at his food, contemplating his next words. Everyone in Heaven knew about the princess’ redemption hotel and her positive outlook on the reality of the afterlife. Especially as Heaven still considered itself in a state of war with Hell but agreed to a ceasefire of an inconclusive war. “I don’t know how to put this lightly.”

“Oh,” Her eyes lit up as the girl’s excitement flowed into her expression. She raised a finger and felt the need to address the matter while looking away, “Is it because my hotel hasn’t gotten enough people seeking redemption?”

“Your highness-”

“What about the advertisements? Surely, I could go out of my to spread awareness better than before.”

“Ma’am-”

“How about I do another event involving celebrities?”

“Charlie!” She stopped herself from rambling and turned to him, reigning her enthusiasm from getting ahold of her.”

“Sorry, I got ahead of myself.”

“I’ve been to the meetings when my boss invites me to the Council of Archangels every session.” Tony needed to explain to her the political situation in Heavenside. Her view of the world was too willing to believe in the best of outcomes and he needed to convey the nature of their hostility towards Hell, “It is unlikely that they will entertain your idea of redeeming sinners.”

Her eyes looked down to the floor, saddened by his response. Seeing her somber face was disheartening to witness for a person so pure and good. “Why? What reason do they have to deny me this? All I want is to end the extermination of my people. Is it wrong to ask that? I can’t abandon them like this, they deserve better.”

“What I say may not be something you want to hear?” The truth held power but it could also be a bitter pill that most in life would be unwilling to swallow. Heaven’s pure holiness was matched by its cold and ruthless efficiency when it came to the matter of managing the afterlife. The princess grimaced before turning her head to face him.

“I’m used to being ridiculed. What else could hurt me?”

It was time to reveal the plans behind the exterminations and one-sided relationship that Heaven cultivated with Hell so it would always stack the decks in God’s favor. He grabbed the glass of orange juice and took a quick sip of the sugary drink. “The Archangels, the Heavenborn, and the saved view your father as a security threat. Ever since the day he signed the ceasefire treaty to end all hostilities after the War in Heaven, the exterminations were part of a clause our people included to ensure that if he ever raised his sword and rallied an army to his side, it wouldn’t be enough to stop us. The Department of Purgatory, my department, specialized in infiltrating Hell so we could list priority targets for the exterminators to search and destroy as we were afraid that some sinners would be angel slayers. We kill enough of your people every year, all of Hell would be at a severe disadvantage.”

“How is this supposed to be informative? Honestly, I think I should throw you off the balcony just for being complicit in that shit! How many tears have I shed for people who didn’t get a chance to be better?! There better be a point to it all.” Tony knew he was as guilty as Cain; however, there was a slight chance to do something about it. The concept of openly redeeming sinners required special circumstances to convince the council to make arrangements. Fortunately, these days were indeed special enough to demand their attention. Before his exhaustion, he remembered that conversation in the kitchen with Vaggie and felt the need to include that in this discussion.

“With what has been going on, you might be able to change that. As of right now, I’m going to tell you something that would sound unbelievable in the grand scheme of things.”

She raised an eyebrow from her left eye while crossing both arms across her chest. “Really? Didn’t you just tell me that your department was organized towards ordering kill teams on sinners?”

“Yes,” He rolled his eyes before grabbing ahold of the tray and putting it aside. The meal would be finished but after he would reveal the knowledge of his plans, “Gabriel is coming after you and I haven’t been able to report to my superiors and his peers about the situation. So, I’m going to break a couple of rules and find us a way to get to Heaven. The Council is going to need witnesses if I’m going to accuse an archangel of treason but this might be the one and only time you could present your redemption hotel to them.”

“Say what, now?” She seemed confused at first until his words managed to resonate with her, “You’re serious. Are you telling me that I get this one chance to showcase the Hazbin Hotel to my uncles?”

Tony nodded his head, confirming her aspirations. He still held reservations but his reasons were still in service to the Garden of Eden. Countless meetings about dealing with Lucifer could be undone by the pure nature of a daughter who wanted the best of people in life. She held her breath and giggled as it alleviated his worry for the princess ever since she embarrassed herself on live television. Despite that eventual meeting, the greatest obstacle they needed to cover was the lack of transportation. “The thing is, I need to find some transportation to help us get to the pearly gates, once we find it, we are going straight there without hesitation. So, if you want to make any preparations for your presentation, I’d get started right now.”

“Thank you!” She lunged forth and hugged him as Azrael’s second-in-command couldn’t help himself but feel embarrassed. This felt less like a stressful mission and more like he was a therapist.

“You’re welcome, ma’am.”

“Charlie?!” A man shouted from the hallway as footsteps approached his bedroom she pulled herself away from him. Appearing in the doorway, was none other than the infamous fallen archangel, Lucifer Magne Morningstar. With an apple cane in hand, he observed the room for a brief moment before noticing her and the agent of the department, “Who is this?”

“Dad, I would like to introduce someone to you. This is Tony, he works for the Department of Heaven and directly under Azrael.” The heir explained the infiltrator’s credentials as he felt embarrassed that he would meet the ruler of the Dark Realm under these circumstances.

“You’re one of Azrael’s men. Vaggie told me about what you are planning and it certainly is a gamble I didn’t think a man like you would propose. Heaven is many things and they don’t like to have their rules broken.”

“Neither do they like having one of their own engage in treason.” Tony quipped but then he stopped and realized his mouth went off.

The ruler of Hell held a tighter grip over his cane as he took three more steps toward him. “So, why do you need my daughter in Heaven when you have many other witnesses to take with you?”

“Till this day, they remain unsure of whether you remain as a security threat or not,” He answered as his plans began to become set in motion on whether or not the fallen one would agree to his insane scheme reliant on trust. Charlie had to be in the Council Chambers to give every sinner a chance, “Your daughter is one of the few qualities we know you’ll defend to the bitter end. It would alleviate their worries and get the other archangels to shirk their support for Gabriel.”

“I would also get an audience to talk about my hotel.” Charlie revealed as the courier anticipated whether he would receive fatherly wrath or approval. Lucifer’s head was raised as if that was the attention-grabber than the matter about his brother.

“You spoke to my daughter about the Hazbin Hotel,” The king began, taking another three steps, reaching the end of the bed, “Are you merely entertaining her or being genuine?”

Their eyes fell on him as the second-in-command reached for his coffee mug and took another bitter sip. Charlie may not have seen what it’s like to redeem people but he had always overseen the process when it occurred under his watch. “The Department of Purgatory has always been capable of redeeming sinners but we’ve done a good job keeping that under wraps. We don’t do it often but when it happens, Azrael hasn’t established a proper bureaucracy related to that subject. With good reason too, we’re worried about maintaining appearances and keeping whistleblowers from sharing that in Hell. My department would love to help Charlie with a central location where we can assist but it needs approval from the council and what better time than now?”

“It’s the latter then. What if I don’t approve and have my daughter relegated to the protection of my guards at the palace? How can I be sure that you won’t protect her as well as I would?”

“Hear me out,” The threat of Gabriel loomed over the princess no matter how much anyone could do for her in Hell. Sure, Lucifer was the one who slayed archangels but all it took was a bit of luck and preparation to steal his daughter and lure him into a trap, “They came after her so they could lure you into becoming vulnerable and kill you. We know how dangerous your Crimson Guard is but well-trained Hellborn troops are no match for the Archangel of Judges. At the very least, if I can get her to the Council Chambers, even Michael wouldn’t hesitate to intervene on her behalf as he also has the Seraphim Guard under his command.”

An apprehensive Lucifer straightened his back and looked down on him. Few could claim they could see reluctance in the Devil but the power of words alone had an impact on him. “You are that sure that Charlie will be safe at all costs. Her mother and I… we can’t risk losing her.”

“I know, sir, but the longer we wait the more time Gabriel and his followers will make another attempt at kidnapping her. Unlike last time, I don’t have an army to stop them.”

“Dad, it’s okay. We can do this, you have to trust us. If this is what needs to happen, I’d gladly go.” The princess spoke, walking over to hold onto his cane.

“Then there is one thing I need to do before I leave,” He said before turning around and walking to the doorway, “Search for Artyom, for I intend to do my part.”

It was hardly quiet at the Macho Machine as the two succubi and sinner sought its refuge. The thunder of explosions and the crackle of gunfire in the distance were more frequent than before. Verosika had received word from her father of an ancient war machine to stay put as he put out fires across the layers of Hell. The feeling of being in genuine danger was unlike any she had truly experienced and that scared her, more than she would like to admit. Yet, the real fear was the whereabouts and well-being of Railtracer and Mayberry at the Hazbin Hotel. Her phone had lit up with emergency messages about Heavenly soldiers appearing and attacking sinners and Hellborn indiscriminately. Was there truly a war going on while she finished filling up plastic cups with ice cappuccinos?

She carried a cupholder containing three drinks as she walked over to the counter where her dad would normally handle the customers. Yet, this was on her paycheck as she carefully handed the drinks across to Pavel and Kiki before they swiveled around in their seats and looked at the television installed from above. 666 News was trying to get their story together but there were brief channel previews of the Hazbin Hotel being attacked and defended. Part of her wanted to call the princess or anyone living there; however, connection to the phone network was spotty and the only reason she received any news from her dad was thanks to the incredible hardware built into its systems.

“Not much of a praying man but I hope Railtracer and the others are alright,” Pavel commented before grabbing the drink and sipping from the black straw inside, “We all could use some good news right now.”

Kiki, sitting beside him, scoffed at the notion of the greater powers at hand. “Heaven is probably the reason why shit like this is happening. Why the fuck are they coming down here all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know and that is what worries me. It’s too early at this time of the year. Something must have spooked them if they’re going out of their way to cause that much of a problem.” He surmised but Verosika noticed how the sinner’s tone was different. This was one of the few times she ever witnessed him look at an issue with any serious thought while the trio kept watching the television screen, hoping for the news to arrive.

“Look, they’re starting.”

The television channel shifted into the background set of 666 News starring the female news anchor and her assistant wearing a gas mask. Soon, the pale blonde revealed her unsettling smile before her red lips opened to speak about the issue. “Welcome back! My name is Katie Killjoy and the limp dick with me is Tom Trench. We bring you the latest regarding the attack on Hazbin Hotel before the power went out. Hell’s special softy just got the attention of Heaven but not in the way she imagined.”

“There have been sightings of heavy concentrations of exterminators in the surrounding the hotel. If you like a one-way redemption ticket to Heaven, here’s your chance!” The sinner in the gas mask enthusiastically reported as the woman beside him stole a glance at him with an annoyed look. “We also have inside info that there have been humans appearing around the building, some helping the exterminators while others joined up with the guests. There’s plenty of speculation on where they came from but don’t stick around the area for too long or you’ll get a spear in you!”

“We also have some sinners take shelter there and have a recording of the building under attack. Here is one of the phones we managed to find intact.”

The quality of the audio was compressed but there was a sense of power that Verosika had never felt before. She knew of Heaven’s power; however, experiencing the feeling in its diluted form was entirely different. “YOU INSIGNIFICANT FUCKS, THIS IS NOT OVER!!!”

“Shit.” The pop star commented, not knowing what else she could say to describe the situation at the Hazbin Hotel. Her only reason to be concerned was her boyfriend and girlfriend since it was their residence. Then Pavel’s phone began to ring as he reached into his breast pocket and pulled it out. “Who’s calling?”

“It’s Art-I mean, Railtracer. Here’s hoping things have gone well at the hotel.” The communist revealed as she grew suspicious over his self-interruption. Did he know her sinner lover’s true name?

“Ask if he’s okay.”

He nodded his head as he began to take the call. “Hey, comrade, how are things going on over there?”

“Better than expected, worse than desired,” Verosika heard his tired voice but she slightly smiled, feeling better that he didn’t die amid the attack, “Where are you, exactly?”

“The Macho Machine . Your girlfriend’s dad runs the place.”

“Anyone else with you?” She heard him ask.

“Da, Kiki and Verosika.” Both men seemed calm despite current events. The succubus didn’t know how to perceive whether or not it was a good sign. “Want to talk to your girl?”

“Yeah, kinda worried with what’s been going on. Just so you know, Tony wants you to link up at the hotel. With what’s left of us, we’ve been given priority tasking.”

The next choice of words changed the attitude of the conversation as the pop star stole a glance from her friend. The nature of the discussion took both aback. “How many survived?”

“Aside from Tony - it’s just me, you, and Uhlman. Everyone else didn’t make it but we managed to keep the princess and her people out of the danger zone.” It was a sad note within that conversation but what emotions the Russian had, he didn’t reveal any hint of it. All he did was take a deep breath and exhale.

“Okay, I’m going to pass the phone to Verosika and let you two catch up.”

He passed his phone over to the Hellborn as she received the device and prepared to hold a conversation on Railtracer. “Hey, babe, how are you doing? I heard what’s going on the news.”

“I’m glad to hear your voice. Mayberry and I were worried you were caught up in the attack as well.” She heard his concern as she released a small laugh at their dire situation. Maybe the worst of times were over; however, he continued, “I… I don’t know where to begin. Everything’s a mess.”

“How about we come over and worry about that in person?” The succubus needed to see for her own eyes. Railtracer sounded troubled and maybe a little comfort would go a long way.

“No. Not a good idea, it’s very hard to explain but it’s too dangerous.”

“Look, maybe I can help you out,” There had to be a good reason why he was acting like this, “Why don’t you want me to come?”

She heard his exhaustive sigh on the other side. “I have some skeletons in my closet that I’ve been keeping close to my chest. My superiors are going to give me an ass-kicking but the truth is, Pavel and I are going to be escorting Princess Charlie and her people somewhere safer. The people who attacked the Hazbin Hotel are still in Hell and we’re being hunted.”

“Where can I meet you?” The way he mentioned ‘superior’ demanded questions. While he did work for her ex-boyfriend, even she knew the imp wasn’t good at organizing his business. Rather, it felt like a third party was involved, one that Railtracer wasn’t too privy to reveal.

“Verosika, I can’t say anything. You have to trust me on this.” It was almost as if he was pleading with her. If she had to be honest with herself, his words were convincing, “Once we make preparations and head out, I have to cut off communication for everyone’s safety and I don’t know how long that blackout will last.”

“Will we see each other again?”

The pop star took his word; however, she desired to hear his intentions once he left her. If this were going to part ways as lovers, now would be the time. At the very least, the sinner managed to soften the blow compared to how Blitzo left her in the dust. “I can’t make guarantees if this will succeed but if everything goes well as planned… I will come back for you.”

“Look, I like your enthusiasm but don’t die trying to keep a promise to a girl like me.” What words could she say next? This could be the last time they would speak to each other but her heart’s deepest desires still sought his return.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you almost sounded like my wife… before I ended up in the afterlife.” The mention of his past had taken her aback as in all of the time she spent with him, he never spoke of his previous life. Hearing a sinner reminiscence wasn’t interesting to most denizens of Hell but it sounded like he enjoyed that moment enough to break the serious tone of his situation/  In the background, she could hear commotion through the speakers as someone called for Railtracer’s attention before he continued speaking, “I’m being asked to do something and I got to get off.”

She nodded her head, understanding his dire situation. “It’s okay. Do what you have to do?”

“Mayberry sends her regards but I just want to say that I love you.”

“I love you, too.” His heartfelt honesty was a welcome to her ears, only matched by her songs for the concerts. Railtracer sounded vulnerable, perhaps the most she had ever heard from a man who seemed to be relaxed about his existence in the afterlife.

The call ended as Verosika placed Pavel’s phone on the counter and took a sip from her cappuccino. Time will tell whether the relationship will endure.

Prince Stolas had to suffer the indignation of being kidnapped by lowly imp gangsters and their ilk of a master. Yet, despite the present danger he found himself in, his mind drifted to their employer. No love was lost between the arranged husband and wife but the prince knew her too well. She was prone to outbursts and openly expressed her anger towards him whenever he was away sleeping with Blitzo. What he also knew was that the high-ranking Hellborn was short-tempered to the point that it couldn’t possibly be her alone in this scheme. Someone else was involved and carefully prepared for his capture.

He and his daughter were brought into a warehouse in Greed. The stench of gross heaps offended the sensible nose but such was the place where the Hellborn make a living off salvaging the failed remains of businesses on other levels. With multiple hands of gangster muscle and a cowboy’s lasso, they guided him to take a seat in a metal chair while hearing the cries of his daughter on the far side of the room. He wanted to reassure Octavia that they were fine, the truth was, he couldn’t admit that. Nothing could comfort her about their capture and it made his blood boil that the jewel of his life was being used as collateral in case he stepped out of line.

An arrogant voice dictated the building; yet, its owner was all too familiar. “Remove the bag. I want to look at him face-to-face.”

“Andrealphus?” Stolas immediately recognized him as his sack was pulled out. He had been brought to a metal table, sitting across from another Ars Goetia in white and blue. The high-ranking member of Hell was from his wife’s side of the family and he smugly looked down upon the prince while sipping a cup of tea.

“I normally despise going into Greed but for an occasion like this, the offense can be overlooked.”

The imp in charge of the operation approached the royal while adjusting his fedora to a slight inclination from the left. “We did what you asked. Where is our payment?”

“In the bank accounts of you and your associates,” He answered as he placed his cup on the table and turned to the kidnapper. It was one of the few times that a low-born would ever receive the praise of its social superiors, “You have my thanks, Crimson. I am grateful that you have offered your services. Especially, with the risk involving Paimon.”

“It’s my pleasure. Besides, one of my employees seems to have an incredible grudge against your man. Had to placate him, you know.” The imprisoned bird thought back to the moment when it all took place. It wasn’t surprising that his family had enemies but the question was who received the worst of his bloodline’s decisions?

“Very well, he shall receive a bonus. While that is settled we need to address my in-law in the room.”

Their heads turned toward Stolas with the beady eyes of the noble inciting his questions. “What do you want?”

“Stella has revealed your indiscretions with a particular imp and I feel the insult warranted a matter of compensation. Your marriage with my sister guarantees my family with your father’s impressive troops and assets in exchange for a daughter to continue your bloodline. Now that the matter is settled, it is time that we merely cash in on that promise.” The cold and calculating life of an Ars Goetia was made known in that room. Even the surrounding Greedsharks and imps revealed awe in the conversation, reminding the dregs of Hell’s society who held sway.

“I can certainly accept you concocted such a plan. Your sister has no idea how to manage subtlety, even if her life depended on it.” It was an insult masked by his respect for Andrealphus’ ability. Yet, the message was made clear that he caught his brother-in-law scowling at his words. Crimson glanced at the trapped Goetia and showed a distinctive message to one of his guards. Someone walked from behind and Stolas felt a hard slap on the back of the head. Painful as it was, he wouldn’t be coerced to accept the power granted by his father. “No. What you received was an alliance, nothing else.”

“Oh, I do love a challenge but I think you are in no position to dictate terms. After all, what would dear Octavia feel about your complete disregard for her feelings? Perhaps, if you ever want to see your daughter again, I would be careful with your next words.”

Once he was reminded of one of the few precious and good people that came into his arranged marriage, the prince became paralyzed in his decisions. What could he do under those constraints? Every single person in Hell valued their power, Hellborn and sinners alike. He had principles but what good were they when the child’s life depended upon it? There wasn’t a choice to be had as his head lowered and he resigned himself to his fate. “Then you better make your request.”

“Very good! What I need is your signature and we’ll be on our way.” Andrealphus was elated as he stood up from his chair, towering over Stolas with the moment of power. His fingertips snapped and a parchment appeared across the table. A contract with all of its legalese presented, all while the bottom of the paper revealed the line where he would write his name. “Our impish friend will release you from the lasso but any attempt to fight and break free will forfeit any chance to see my niece again.”

The golden rope that tied him had been loosened from behind as he felt his wrists freed from its capture. Then they reached out to the paper as he looked over the details, seeing that his family’s military power would be transferred. Once signed, his father’s fury would be tremendous as it was legally binding and the only true way for him to undo it all would be to bring it up in Lucifer’s court. Although he had met the ruler of Hell before, he had doubts that the king of the dark realm would even remember him given the nature of the noble politics.

Crimson approached the kidnapped side of the table while his hand reached for a black pen from his breast pocket. The gangster passed it close enough to the Goetia’s hand with a cold and distant message. “Get this over with. We don’t have all day.”

Then the imp retreated to Andrealphus’ side with both arms behind his back.

Stolas contemplated his fate as he reached for the pen and uncapped the top, revealing the dark tip. There was no going back once the ink dried along the signature line. With the instrument ready, his hand hovered over and accepted the consequences.

He never had the chance when the warehouse’s glass panels along the ceiling shattered from above. The aura of devastation inside the room had been disrupted with shards descending and crashing onto the floor. Everyone quickly looked up to find the shadows of intruders arriving on the scene. For a brief moment, no one could be recognized save for the war cries of an imp with a sailor’s mouth. “Nice to meet you, assholes!”

“Blitzy?” Confused settled in as he realized his beloved rescuer had arrived just in time to prevent the contract’s completion. His lover was rappelling fast and landed on his right as two Greedsharks and an imp attempted to assail him from around with bats; however, the assassin was quicker with his rifle as he dispatched the guards with the speed of his trigger finger.

“Alright, motherfuckers, hand over the horny bird and no one will get hurt!” The owner of I.M.P. announced with the weapon’s barrel smoking. Meanwhile, the far side of the warehouse revealed that his two employees were doing the same on the other side of the building. Gunfire erupted but there was some hope that his daughter would be rescued from the kidnappers.

The brother-in-law stood up from his chair and revealed his annoyance. “Bloody peasants! Get rid of them!”

Stolas didn’t hesitate to enjoy his newfound freedom by spinning his head around enough to find a lanky Greedshark taken aback. He stared hard at him, revealing a red hue that paralyzed the target in fear before his powers began to petrify the Hellborn into stone while overtaken in horror. Then the noble spun around to see his kidnappers take notice of his freedom as gunshots rang out.

“Sign the damn contract!” Crimson said with a scowl as he reached within his suit.

Not a chance was wasted when he quickly threw the pen at the mobster with a mere flick of his wrist. It darted forward as the imp was about to retrieve a handgun from his jacket; yet, the speed managed to stab into his hand. His target yelled out at the stinging pain before the prince decided to take advantage of the moment by kicking his foot upward to toss the table and soar towards the Goetia and his dirty muscle.

He spun around and ran by to snatch Blitzo off his feet while he was in the midst of shooting at more guards elsewhere. “We got to go!”

“What the - hold on.” An imp ambushed the duo from the left but Stolas’ lover raised his rifle and fired, killing the assailant mid-air, “You mind telling me where I’m being taken?”

“Octavia. Once we fetch her, we are leaving. Andrealphus won’t take this lying down.”

“Uh, who?” He expressed his confusion as the prince swiftly crossed halfway across the warehouse.

“My brother-in-law. He almost got me to sign a contract to hand over my legions. Your rescue came in just in time.”

It seemed to affect him as the recoil shifted over his left shoulder. “Well fuck me and call me a fleshlight. Better now than later.”

The other side of the warehouse was just as chaotic with the scared Goetian girl being closely protected by a Hellhound, ferociously fending off lucky gangsters trying to reach out to the royal daughter. Stolas also caught a glimpse of Millie and Moxxie flanking Blitzo’s adoptive daughter with the husband dual-wielding submachine guns on the left and the wife sweeping through thugs with a two-headed battle axe. He rarely got the chance to speak with them but perhaps he would personally express his gratitude when they were in safer territory.

A dozen guards assailed the three defenders with metal pipes and wooden beams but little did they know about the Hellborn noble coming upon them from behind. Their heads turned around as they finally heard his quick footsteps in the middle of the aisle. The prince immediately revealed his crimson power and they found themselves stuck in place as more statues occupied the building.

When they reached the others, Octavia ran past Loona and reached out to embrace him in a hug while placing Blitzo on the ground. “Dad!”

“My little bird,” Relief rushed over him as he turned his head to the imp who orchestrated his escape, “We better get out while we can.”

“Easier said than done. Moxxie told me his dad runs this place. He literally has an army surrounding this place. We should count our lucky horns that we even got through in the first place.” He explained but it only revealed the dire straits of their situation. Stolas’ brother-in-law was smart to have placed a bag over his head as he wouldn’t have figured out the exit even if he escaped.

The cries of imps and Greedsharks began to flood into the building, and loud shouting and kicked doors echoed out from behind the Goetia’s back. He looked back to find so many people outnumbering the party, that it would require his powers to deal with the problem. “Does anybody here have my Grimoire?”

“I do!” The Hellhound girl responded with haste.

“Hand it over,” She was intelligent enough to use some of its spells but he was a master of its arcane knowledge while she popped the lock by her waist and handed the ancient tome into his hands. He looked back to see the army of gangsters growing while the two of Blitzo’s imp employees readied their weapons. It wouldn’t be enough to stop them and he was eager to find someplace safer. His home wasn’t viable but perhaps I.M.P’s office would suffice. The prince flicked through the pages until he found the spell to open a portal. “There you are.”

The Wrath-accented imp in the group spoke about the incoming onslaught. “Uh, I don’t wanna rush you but there’s a lot of them.”

“Give me a second.” Stolas brushed past the Hellhound and his daughter, approaching the empty white wall, a canvas for the powers he would perform. He spoke in the tongues of the ancient past as his free hand began to motion to draw a circle in the air. Once the incantation was complete, a blue outline appeared on the wall as eldritch powers broke through the fabric of reality and opened a way out. In contrast to the chaotic atmosphere of the warehouse, the assassination office appeared relatively peaceful.

“Alrighty then, let’s get the fuck out of here!”

He didn’t even need to reply as he grabbed his daughter’s hand and guided her through. The others were quick to follow after him, escaping the mafia out for blood. Blitzo and Moxxie were the last to come through, shooting their guns out through the portal. It wouldn’t be long before the magical connection would falter but as the freed Goetia looked back and saw the imps and Greedsharks come short of reaching them, the blue and white form of Andrealphus on the far side remained prominent.

The two nobles stared at each other before they were cut off and a wall of pink and purple took place of the spell’s location. He let out a breath of relief, enjoying the moment of reprieve. At some point, the high-ranking Hellborn would be forced to face them again but at least he would do so on his terms now that Stella’s side of the family revealed their intentions.

Blitzo brushed off the sweat from his brow and walked past the relieved employees of I.M.P. on his way toward the prince. Yet, he stopped as blood was drained from his face. “Uh, are you got us at our place?”

“What are you talking about?” He turned around to glimpse at the sight that seemed to have stunned his lover. Upon turning, a lithe blonde woman in a black dress was sitting on a chair taken from the table in the middle of the room. Black horns protruded out from her forehead with a beautiful appearance surpassing the likes of the most famous succubi. “Oh, her.”

“Hello, Prince Stolas, my husband has need of you.” She rose from her chair and walked over to the Goetians and their imp companions. It was not long before all knelt or bowed in the presence of Queen Lilith.

The Hazbin Hotel’s local homosexual porn star found himself at odds with its new human inhabitants. On one hand, he enjoyed the idea of tempting some of Heaven’s servants with a room and a drink. Yet, Angel resisted the urge to seduce the investigators as their existence brought questions about his existence. There was once a time when he did look human but his soul had gotten accustomed to living in Hell that his mind once thought about remembering how he looked like before he died. That thought did the most damage to his psyche as he couldn’t remember and it terrified him.

Sitting quietly on the living room couch, he was interrupted from that thinking when he noticed Uhlman kneeling beside the television, making adjustments to its wiring. “Chyort, my lada works better than this and it’s missing half the parts to run.”

“Don’t you have anything important to do?” He asked, wondering why this undercover agent wasn’t being productive.

“It all requires Tony, unfortunately, he’s exhausted and needs sleep until he starts barking orders. Until then, I’m going to take this one opportunity to relax. I haven’t gotten any ever since my group was assigned to the investigation.”

“Just like that? You’re just going to sit on your ass and do nothing.” He was in disbelief that someone from Heaven would act so nonchalantly as if the kidnapping never happened. How the Hell was the hotel going to last with that attitude? “Maybe I had too much of an expectation.”

The Russian slapped the television as the connection to the networks was reached and the channel played without interruption. He grabbed the remote by his side and walked over to Angel before taking a seat beside the spider sinner. “That’s on you for setting the bar. Besides, I used to be a soldier, which is ninety percent boring bullshit with the rest made up of absolute terror.”

“How long have you been doing this, then?”

“Me? A couple of years. Mostly just eavesdropping on sinners and snagging a few poor souls wrongly placed there.” He casually answered while flipping through the channels. Angel’s initial impressions of their group after they revealed themselves seemed to water down the cold and ruthless appearance. It was as if they were merely doing a chore. “Sure beats the cubical work the office drones have to do back at headquarters. I don’t know how Artyom managed to handle the processing.”

That detail perked his head up as it seemed there was more to the real identity of Railtracer that he never revealed in the past. He stole a look from a bored Uhlman before asking about their mutual friend. “He wasn’t one of you guys?”

“Yeah, he was recently reassigned to my group. You could say that our current mission is his first. Before that, he was sending souls to either Heaven or Hell.”

“You got to be fucking with me! You’re telling me his other job was sending people down here.” He was taken aback by the news. It was a hard fact to swallow, knowing that an authority in Heaven willingly sent people to this depressing existence.

The investigator stopped clicking after stumbling upon a television show about a dysfunctional family shouting at each other. Then he reached into his body armor’s breast pocket and brandished a cigarette. “The one job no one in Heaven that nobody is envious of, having to review a person’s sins and good deeds then deciding whether or not to be greeted at the pearly gates.”

“Shit must be bad if Heaven doesn’t want to do that job.”

“Oh, you have no idea. Azrael took it upon himself to do that job. Then as time went out, he had to deal with a backlog of incoming souls before the Council of Archangels decided to green-light the creation of the Department of Purgatory.” Uhlman replied with his tone as he became the closest person to inform Angel Dust of the inner workings of those in charge, “Let’s forget about my daily life of depression that is my average work week.”

“Okay, your call.” The porn star acknowledged before he noticed the hotel’s one-eyed black feline jump onto the couch from the right.

He looked over and chuckled as his hand reached out to the creature. “I forgot you guys got a cat running around here.”

The animal sniffed the man’s fingers before taking a moment to take in his scent. Then it hissed at the Russian as he pulled his hand back.

“A shame I didn’t bring any cat treats. I wished I stole some from the Grim Reaper’s zoo.”

“The guy in charge of dealing with dead people has his own zoo?” The homosexual was baffled by the idea. His mental image of one of the most terrifying beings in existence running around with cute fluffy animals was on the edge of comical. At the same time, it was also a wholesome notion, “Shit, I’d want that too.”

“Eh, that one is a special case. A depressing one at that. You’d find more humor in a graveyard.” Uhlman answered before pulling out a lighter in the shame of a bullet. After flicking the top off and sparking the small flame into existence, he lit the end of the cigarette between his lips.

“It can’t be that bad.”

“They were animals who were poorly mistreated and traumatized. Living and loving creatures that enjoyed life who were victims of human cruelty.” He exhaled the smoke buried within his lungs and then glanced in Angel’s direction. The tone alone revealed a silent sadness from within. “They’re an example of why some humans deserve to go to Hell.”

It was quite a statement but to openly convey that feeling in the hotel made around redeeming damned souls was a declaration. Maybe he was being too harsh on sinners. “It can’t be that bad. They might have made a mistake.”

“There is no doubt that a sinner can make an honest mistake, but then there’s deliberate vile action. Tell me, do you know what it’s like to watch some mother goose have her eggs smashed by a brick because a boy found it gratifying? What about throwing a box of kittens into a river, hoping they’d die from drowning.” For a brief moment, the sinner caught a glimpse of the man’s anger with a wrathful glare.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to get you pissed off. Just like wanted to know more about the people who sent me down here.” His words seemed to have calmed Uhlman as he leaned forward and stared at the television screen.

“That one is on me. I admire the princess’ efforts at redeeming a sinner but she hasn’t been in our position and read the evil that mankind possesses. Charlie doesn’t understand that some people have forfeited that right a long time ago.”

Minutes were spent watching the television of two lovers attempting to fall in love in a comedic way; yet, it was in contrast to the viewers on the couch. Angel Dust didn’t have the words to continue that conversation but he got a glimpse of the life working for this Department of Purgatory. The choice to damn a soul for eternity or save it from the Dark Realm was this task just as difficult as it was to convince sinners they could be redeemed through good and honest behavior.

“I will admit, your benefactor does seem to know how to pick a sinner deserving of redemption.” Anthony couldn’t help but smile at that remark. The fact that there was something good out there who thought well of him.

Chapter Text

The Ruler of the Dark Realm always went out of his way to be lavish with his spending regarding Charlie’s hotel. For all of her insistence on redemption, Lucifer didn’t hesitate to ensure that she had the facilities to placate her dreams, even if he didn’t believe in them. Now, if his Holy Father was paying attention, he would ironically repurpose them for his own designs. The King of Hell entered the building’s fieldhouse, where some of the Hazbin’s residents were shuffling aside all of its athletic and sports equipment. This was to make room for the promise he made with Azrael, to teach Artyom proper fighting techniques with his service weapon. It wouldn’t be enough to slay a genuine archangel but perhaps instilling the basic disciplines into the Purgatory investigator would be enough to not treat it like a club.

When the last of the dust had been removed from the scene, the monarch turned his head to the right to find Artyom standing by his side drinking a plastic bottle of water. “Nervous?”

“Who wouldn’t?” He remarked, glancing at the Fallen Archangel, “The Devil himself is teaching me on how to not get killed by his brother.”

“Better that I teach you the basics. The more sweat you make here, the less you’ll bleed.”

“Hey, your majesty, is this enough?” Questioned the sinner on the far side of the room with his cat-like features displaying the man’s disinterest. He seemed to be putting away the two metal stands connected by a black volleyball net onto the side of the wall, clearing the space across the room.

“Satisfactory,” Lucifer commended as he gestured for Artyom to take his place on one side of the fieldhouse and he took position opposite from him. On his left, three sinners and an investigator were sitting atop a stack of blue folded mats. It was likely that they were here to receive a show for cleaning up and he would have to perform. Then he returned his attention to the relatively young man in modern military gear. “Present your weapon.”

The Russian’s right hand extended out from his side as if reaching until a Zweihander materialized out of thin air, only to be held by its master. It was an impressive sword with its decorative handle embuing the style of the original era its creator hailed from. “Now, what?”

“One of the things you need to do is if you want the proper flexibility, keep two hands on this weapon at all costs.” The monarch raised his cane and pointed at the weapon’s extended handle while stepping forward.

“What are the pointy bits on the blade?”

It was unsurprising that his knowledge about these ancient arms was lacking as most folk in Heaven and Hell would simply settle for a knife or a gun. Still, it felt like the young man held a genuine interest despite his appearances dictating his preference for modern firearms. “Those are parrying hooks. They protect that unsharpened part of the blade between it and the ricasso. Uh, the crossguard over your handle.”

“If it’s unsharpened, I could also use that as a handle.” He analyzed the aspect of his weapon.

“Yes, it is to help pivot the blade just as much as possible.” The teacher explained while noticing the nod of understanding from his student, “Remember that as it can also help you avoid losing your grip mid-fight.”

One of the observers shouted from her side of the fieldhouse. Lucifer stole a glance to find the little gremlin cyclops disappointed about their lack of action. “Boo! When are you guys going to swing at each other.”

“I’m afraid we must put on a show before we disappoint them any further.”

“So, do you want me to attack you?” Artyom wondered but he sounded less sure than before.

He smiled as he raised his cane like a sword and pointed it at him. “Yes. You’re going to need to practice those pivots but I also need to see what else could be done better. Imagine you have a box in front of you and the best way to attack someone is from the corners of that box.”

The agent of Heaven performed a right-side swing, swiping towards the Fallen Archangel. Yet, he took a step back and his cane arm reached out to tap the tipping edge of the Russian’s sword to the side. It was his first lesson to be acquainted with the technique.

“By attacking the tip of their blade, it is a parry. Now, strike me again.”

Soon the investigator freed one hand from the handle and grabbed the dull part of the sword. Then swung from the left side, it was quick and short but Lucifer parried. Yet, he did not hesitate to escalate into the next phase of the lesson by taking two steps forward, bypassing the length of the immense Zweihander to press the tip of his sword cane against the man’s chest. Artyom looked down and took the attack with grace. “Is this the killing blow?”

“Not necessarily,” He began, eager to inform his student about this technique, “After you parry, an attack can be made against your opponent to harm. This is to exploit the advantage you made and close the distance.”

“How will that work against Gabriel? Doesn’t he have two swords?”

It was a good question for someone who had only one blade at their disposal; however, the experience of the War in Heaven gave practical advice against his own brother. “Even he must fight by the same principles. When he attacks with both swords, it is often in the same direction and motion.”

“Can I practice more with those parries and ripostes?” The King of Hell felt elated by that request. For once, in his life, the old warrior was willing to teach and entertain the drive that helped him fight off his brothers when Lilith’s life was on the line, “Maybe if I get down some kind of tempo I could get the hang of this.”

“Of course. Just do not confuse tempo with rhythm. Remember you’re not making a beat for show but to fight off my brother with all the effort you can muster.”

The once so cozy living room that Charlie enjoyed had become the epicenter of the Department of Purgatory’s latest operations. Standing from the sidelines, Vaggie and Alastor approached Tony sitting on the couch by placing stacks of books containing phone numbers and contact lists of the various notable people of Hell atop the coffee table. While Vaggie seemed exhausted by the dozen thick pages she had to lug around as Alastor’s expression revealed his annoyance that he had to use his powers to summon black tendrils to carry parchments on the investigator’s behalf. The wooden furniture creaked and further additions would have broken the good oak it was made from.

Soon the saved leaned forward and flipped through the first few pages of each book. Each glance seemed to reveal a focus and perhaps a rush through the list of names, phone numbers, and addresses that all labeled each person throughout their existence in Pentagram City. However, the Princess of Hell was embarrassed when he flipped through a page and found a few names on the list who were crossed out. His words began to raise a question, “Why are these crossed out?”

“Those sinners are the ones who got killed during the Extermination Days or the gang wars afterward.” Vaggie reluctantly answered.

“Shit. It’s a shame that your hotel doesn’t have a database to filter this out. Some of these books are outdated with a lot of these names I’ve come across.”

“We’re sorry that this is the best that we can do,” She replied while crossing her arms and shaking her head, “Not every one of us will have the time to run this stuff over.”

“Since all three of you are here, I’ll have to do a bit of my magic.” Tony freed one hand from looking through the books and reached out for the air beside him. In the blink of an eye, a series of manila folders appeared and were snatched by him in an instant.

Charlie was impressed by the performance before looking over to see Alastor raise his eyebrows by the powers he witnessed. Then he spoke, “What exactly do you have in your hands?”

“A list of targets of Pentagram’s most prominent sinners. As Azrael’s secretary, I’m granted special powers to my office like summoning a bunch of paperwork if I want to work overtime,” It seemed like he was joking about the casual reality of the job but his stone-cold demeanor revealed his intentions as he sorted through each file. Then he began to hand it out to the two sinners and the heiress of the Dark Realm. “I’m going to need three of you to cross-reference the names on those files and look for them in these books. These are all the people who I think are useful to help us leave Hell and help us into Heaven.”

“This is quite beneath me. I don’t see why I have to participate in your search.” Alastor complained while tapping his microphone.

“Don’t you have an oath to the princess?”

She looked down at the top file in her hand and saw a familiar face. The manila folder had a photograph attached by a mere paperclip, revealing a snake-like sinner with a top hat, and was surrounded by a pack of little sentient eggs. “I know this guy?”

“Who is it?” Vaggie asked as she walked over and peered to see the picture of the small-time overlord, “You think Pentious is useful? Hell, Alastor kicked the shit out of him.”

The Radio Demon chuckled. “Ah, a shame I didn’t think his soul was worth consuming.”

“And it’s a good thing you didn’t. The sinner may not have any power worth a damn but he does run with an airship and that might be our right.” Tony replied, informing the trio of his plans.

“That is a good point,” Charlie placed the group of files on the table and wondered how they would have to find him, “Though, he could be anywhere by now and all of us are safe at the hotel for now.”

He raised his head and raised a single finger. “There is one investigator not with us. He could probably run that errand for me since he’s coming over.”

“I don’t know how we’ll be able to convince him since he might not be willing to cooperate.”

“We have to try,” Tony reached into his pocket and brandished his phone, “Alright, Pavel, do your magic.”

I.M.P. and its associates were brought into the halls of the royal palace. The invitation by Lucifer’s wife had left Blitzo speechless as only the highest of society’s elite would be allowed into the ruler’s court. Yet, here he was, walking past the red-tinted knight-like guards of the Dark Realm. Its beauty and spectacle were beyond him and not even his childhood memories of Stolas’ home were comparable to the luxurious backdrops that date back to when the Queen of the Succubi took the hand of the Fallen Archangel.

Millie and Moxxie spoke over every little weapon display they passed through as any Wrath couple would. His darling Hellhound daughter, Loona, had her phone out and took selfies of herself in the heart of power. On occasion, Octavia would join her in some pictures while indifferent to some shots with the camera. Yet, Stolas was showing signs of hesitation and nervousness. The company owner wanted to speak on his behalf, using his confidence to get Lilith’s attention, but his mind was unsure if he would make their situation worse.

The party was brought in front of a set of two large doors, fully opened wide. Flanking the entrance were two Crimson Guardsmen wielding angelic halberds, their identities locked behind the hound visors. Their heads raised high, acknowledging the royal entering the throne room. The far side contained two wooden chairs raised high on a series of pedestals with one chair a step higher, both representing the power they represented. Soon, everyone’s rescuer watched as she took her seat in the second-highest chair in the room, slinking her wrists over the armrests.

“Court is not in session, so we can avoid being too formal in this room.” She announced, smiling at the group’s surprise at her candor.

Stolas stepped forward and fell to one knee, bowing his head in respect to her authority. “Your majesty, we are quite honored that you have invited us into your home.”

“For a son of Paimon, I expected a different picture thanks to your father,” Lilith replied while the leading imp noticed her words striking a nerve in his boyfriend’s expression. He was about to speak but then the conversation took another turn, “I’m glad to be proven wrong.”

“Back in the office, you said you had need of us?”

Her head nodded in acknowledgment. “It’s a personal matter but one of great importance. I had sought for your whereabouts but then word from my whisperers revealed that you were caught in what seemed to be the usual skullduggery amongst the nobility. Then came your lover and his fellow imps to the rescue. For a troublesome lot, you must have good relations for them to save you from the in-laws.”

“Uh, madam, what do you mean by troublesome?” Moxxie hesitantly questioned from behind while the succubus chuckled.

“That three imps and a Hellhound decided to form an entire business hunting and killing mortals on behalf of sinners sent here. Did you really think any of us wouldn’t notice the advertisements?”

“Oh, that,” He admitted as scared laughter took over to cope with being caught by the proper authorities, “I guess we’re fiddlesticks.”

“Perhaps but perhaps we can look the other way. Your benefactor has served my husband on a certain matter involving an agent of the Archangel of Death. Now? I intend to make use of all of you.” She stated with complete confidence while leaning back in her chair.

Blitzo took his first steps and began to approach her. His lover heard his steps and was about to stop him from getting any closer; however, Lilith’s hand signaled to him not to intervene. “Okay, what the fuck are we going to do that has you invite us over?”

“Have any of you paid attention to the events surrounding the Hazbin Hotel?”

“Yeah, it got attacked by a bunch of exterminators.” He even spoke to the undercover guy that once worked for him. There were a bunch of red flags that existed back then but then again, he wasn’t horny enough to try and get his attention. “What of it?”

The Queen of Hell crossed her legs. “Charlie, my daughter, is going to be escorted to Heaven by some of the Grim Reaper’s servants. While all is well and good, I am going to make room for all of you to act as her additional bodyguards.”

“Eh, run that by me again?” The imp was stupified by the statement alone.

“There is a chance that my daughter’s kidnappers will try again and they will most likely succeed. I have no intention of granting them another chance.” Soon her words began to command the Hellborn inside the court. Her regal posture announced the intention of her plans before everyone, “You all are to accompany the princess as her bodyguards as she is to be brought to Heaven and testify before the Council of Archangels. There are many flaws with this and if somebody desires to act against her, the Goetia is to use her arcane gifts to open a rift and bring her back to the palace while the others protect her.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing as his eyes widened with shock. The idea of going to Heaven was considered a laughable idea. Sinners would love to get out of being in the same vicinity of a war crime center but it was no place for a Hellborn. His kind were viewed as servants down here but the people up there might not be so welcoming. They probably wanted a bit of payback after what he did to those cherubs. Then there was the man he believed to be a damned soul. Blitzo wasn’t keen on having to deal with those folk face-to-face. “Nuh-uh! Nope, I’m not doing this.”

“Blitzy, what are you doing?!” A horrified Stolas shouted as the imp turned around to face him.

“Saying no,” He answered, “It’s almost as if she wants to get all of us killed. It’s bad enough I’ve made trouble for myself but it’s not worth risking my neck out like this.”

“This is Lilith we’re talking about! You’re going to make things worse for all of us.”

The queen began to laugh, amused by the conversation as all within the room paid her their attention. “You presume that you have a say in the matter. No, this is not a request but an order. You will serve as Charlie’s bodyguards from Hell while she is away until she is safely returned.”

“Fuck.” The imp swore as his hands began to clench into fists.

“Your majesty, I apologize on his behalf,” The Goetia began. Blitzo didn’t know what to think about this since he once more felt powerless in life and his fate dictated by those beyond him. “He won’t do it again-”

“It’s fine. Most people in the Dark Realm aren’t used to taking orders and this sort of behavior is just the average Hellborn coping that I have this power over them.” She dismissed his concern outright with a simple wave of her hand.

“If we are to go ahead and perform this request, I would like to ask of you to do something on my behalf.”

“Given these dire times, I will permit it.” She gestured for him to continue. “Begin.”

“My daughter and I were fortunate to escape members from my wife’s family. Could you spare some protection on her behalf? I cannot protect the heir if my mind is focused on her safety.” She nodded her head in approval.

“That can be arranged. I want all of you to rest before you head off to link with my daughter at the Hazbin Hotel.”

Blitzo had thought that he would never meet with the fake sinner again but it seemed like that was bound to change. What was he to do against the fact that his voice didn’t really matter as he anticipated the upcoming hardships from making his usual payout with clients into dealing with high-class assassins?

It was unlike Sir Pentious to take the train but recent events had changed the attitude on his personal preference. News of the Exterminators taking to the skies of Pentagram City killed any enthusiasm to fly his airship around. While his on-board weapons would certainly give a local some pause, the angelic soldiers were too numerous and agile for the serpent and his minions to fight them. As much as he adored his egg boys, there was nothing they could do against the ruthless killers who performed their yearly charges.

He sat quietly in his part of the car while a dozen of his servants occupied his bench and the one across from him. The little ones were always learning about the world, their eyes looking back and fro to the other passengers on board. Getting them to behave or preventing their annoying behaviors from getting out of hand was more of a challenge than actually designing and inventing gizmos for the usual gang warfare that dominated the lives of most sinners.

A fat hippo sinner appeared from the corner of his eye. His head turned to the left as the size of her body either pushed people away or forced the train riders to step aside. The metal carriage clanged against the weight of her steps, but the true question was how such a beast would be able to pass through the doors from the platform. Nonetheless, the gentleman inventor did his best to avoid making a scene as his mind dwelled on other matters, so long as he wouldn’t receive the sinner’s attention.

She finally came around to his side before stopping to turn her back towards the egg minions across from him. Then she took her first steps backward and began to take a seat. Her intention horrified Pentious as he raised his hand, about to signal for her to stop, but it was too late. The servants released a languishing cry as the weight of the woman crushed them. Eggshells cracked and yellow yolk splattered across the leather arrangements. To add further insult, her mighty behind rubbed and smushed their remains even further as the stranger settled down.

Then the protective side of the snake sinner made him stand up while the rest of his followers huddled from behind. “Excuse me, madam, but you sat on my egg boys!”

“I have a boyfriend.” She replied but the hippo seemed to lack any self-awareness about what she did to her victims.

“Are you deaf?” He pointed out at the mess she made on the seat with her butt, “You sat on them!”

“You’re just being fatphobic.”

Sir Pentious stood up and approached her without hesitation. Rather, he was driven by rage as he pressed his finger against her chest. “You big dumb slattern, are you a bloody slop that you don’t realize that your arse is wet!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” She stood up towering over him. Had it been in any other situation, he would have been afraid but the lives of his egg boys were too precious for him to disregard his own safety. Then the hippo looked over her shoulder and saw the yellow yolk staining the tight blue jeans trying to prevent her fat from spilling out, “Shit. I did sit on someone. Too bad it’s not my problem.”

“That’s it.” He reached into his pocket and brandished a miniaturized hand-held death ray and pointed it at the woman.

The inventor sinner yelped in surprise when both of her grubby hands latched onto his shoulder and lifted him to the train ceiling. Soon, he felt his head smashed against the metal while disoriented from the blunt trauma. Then she tossed him aside as his weapon was knocked out of his hands. As he tried to regain his senses, the grey mass of fat and muscle took her first steps towards him.

What caught the hippo woman by surprise was a senior egg by the name of Frank leading the charge with the rest of his henchmen. They jumped upon her back with bats and knives in hand, hacking and smacking away at the woman with all their might. If it wasn’t enough to slay her, it was certainly enough to annoy the fat creature attempting to latch onto the nimble protein shells.

Someone’s foot stepped by the sinner before he turned his head to find a robotic man in a trench coat, looking down. “Are you Sir Pentious?”

“Uh, yes, that is me.” The serpent answered with great reluctance, unsure about this stranger’s arrival. Then he looked at the scene of the fighting to find the woman snatching one of his henchmen and crushing him in between the grip of her hands, “I apologize but I have to deal with her.”

“Let me spare you the trouble.” Soon the Slavic sinner stepped forward and reached into his coat before brandishing a strange pistol. A twang echoed throughout the train as a pair of barbed darts flew into the hippo connected by a copper wire.

The fat slop noticed his intervention but he was quicker on the trigger, injecting electric currents into her body. His egg minions jumped off the woman as she fell and landed on her back. Her body spasmed with each second as any sign of consciousness disappeared, leaving a humanoid hippo drooling across the floor. Part of the serpent’s mind appreciated the sight and felt inspired to produce an electric weapon but that would be some time until he returned to his workshop.

“Now that we’re done with that, I can talk to you about a proposition.” He turned to Pentious and extended his hand out. It wasn’t like him to accept assistance from others but this was on behalf of his henchmen. The inventor reciprocated and reached out before being pulled up from the floor and his upper body towering over the woman who killed his eggs. “Would you like to hear it?”

His eyes glanced at the fat sinner and turned toward the bronze robot man with absolute gratitude. “Of course, the wench killed my boys and you helped put her down! I’m willing to listen.”

“Go take a seat.”

The Victorian sinner returned to the seat from where he formerly enjoyed his peace before the large disturbance interfered with his mood. Meanwhile, his protein followers quickly rushed to his side and sat beside him from both flanks. He looked down to find themselves proud of the effort of taking down their herculean foe as the serpent took a chance to whip the woman in the face with his tail.

It was the stranger who stood out from the mess as he walked to the empty seat across from them but remained standing. “I have a benefactor, who wants to hire you for your services. It requires your airship but the reward is plenty.”

“Who is so eager to receive my attention?” Sir Pentious questioned, if there is one rule in Hell, it is that no one is ever unknown to another. He also had to make this transaction quick and decisive as his reputation and territory were being eyed by his neighbors. It was an obligation that any serious power in Pentagram City had to face first before everything else, “I don’t exactly run a charity.”

“I know but that is where the reward falls in. For this one job, you’re going to be needed at the Hazbin Hotel?”

“Pardon? Did I hear that right?” The name of the place brought back embarrassing memories when he tried to showcase his power after Extermination Day. The Radio Demon totaled his airship and henchmen in a damaging way that he had to hold off on territorial expansion lest he risk fighting other local street lords worth naming.

He nodded his head, acknowledging revealing a job he didn’t expect for it to come from. “Yes, you did. You’re a smart man and the Hazbin Hotel recognizes that. Your little encounter with its own left an impression, not a good one, but they’re willing to look past your transgression in hopes of your services.”

“What would the Princess of Hell want with me?”

“Not here, now,” The robot raised his finger as if warning him. Then the stranger looked elsewhere to the rest of the train and its passengers, “We’ll have to talk about this somewhere quiet and not public.”

Sir Pentious realized the importance of this job if he was receiving help from a stranger like this. The heir to the Dark Kingdom wanted him and the idea of using his inventions to help her raised his imagination for power not many in the city could get. If this was Charlie Magne Morningstar’s way of offering a job, he would be inclined to take it. “Then I agree to learn more in private. May I have a name so I can properly thank you?”

“Pavel Morozov, I can’t go into any more detail than that. When does this ride go to?”

“Close to the hotel.” One of the egg boys answered.

The machine of a man revealed a smile. “Good, we have much to discuss.”

The sudden attack of the Exterminators had taken the Vees by complete surprise. With their schedule in shambles, all that was left to do was to come together in a meeting and discuss their next course of plan for further control. Neighboring gangs would be poised to exploit the chaos and expand their territories but for the Vees, it wouldn’t affect them terribly. Rather, being a major media conglomerate with three overlords committing their power involving electronics, porn, and fashion.

Vox looked at the virtual map at the meeting table looking at the influence the petty powers controlled. His eyes focused on the peripheral territories that neighbored those with considerable power. Yet, he had to act calm and collected when it came to using his power and his forces.

“Don’t bend over like that, it hurts your back.” He heard Valentino comment on his body hunching by the table’s edge just so his eyes could get a closer look. Nonetheless, he ignored the moth’s response as he flanked the sentient television on the right side. “I mean, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

He let out a deep breath as he knew his partner wouldn’t take his silence lying down. “Can’t you see that I’m trying to think about what to do now that the Exterminators are gone?”

“Darling, I know about this song and dance we’ve always been doing.”

“I’m back!” Two doors to his left had been kicked open wide as the duo found their third member arriving at the meeting room with a cupholder keeping three drinks.

“Velvet, honey, you are fashionably late!”

“I just got done meeting with Carmilla and the others. It went as well as either of you would expect from me. On the way back, I decided to get some coffee. My treat.” The woman explained as she walked over and distorted the virtual visuals of the city by putting the cupholder atop the table. She immediately handed one cup to Valentino but then the fashionista turned her attention to him, “So, what’s the plan now that we got an unannounced Extermination?”

Vox shook his head at his current indecision. “I’m still thinking.”

“You’re always thinking! Thinking about the other overlords! Thinking about what to do after the Exterminations! Thinking about the next best product!”

“All three of us know that we can’t just sit around like this. If people think we can’t find any success after Heaven’s usual tantrum, someone’s going to challenge us. It’s all about presentation.” He needed to remind them about their situation. All of Hell relied upon power anything that took away from that basic goal would interfere with the luxurious lives they enjoyed.

“There you go again with the usual conversation,” Velvet replied as if she was seemingly annoyed by his response. She placed a hand on her hips and expressed her disappointment. “There are times I just can’t get any good fun with you.”

Valentino chimed in on the conversation as he revealed his intentions. “Well, if either of you are done, I’m thinking about a Hell of a gamble.”

“What do you got?”

“Most of the exterminators went after the Hazbin Hotel. I’m thinking of paying them a little visit for a brief moment and I’ll be back before they know it.” He answered but Vox stared at him with the realization of what he intended to do.

The television overlord straightened his back and felt the need to course-correct him. If this was still about the porn star issue, he needed to nip that ambition in the bud. “I know what you’re thinking about and I’m going to say no to that idea.”

“You didn’t even hear me out?”

“Do you realize what you’re saying?” Every overlord knew the limits of their pride. Sure, they may have powers to lord over other sinners but those whose heads didn’t keep themselves grounded would find themselves in the royal court of the Dark Realm, “Making a pass at the Hazbin Hotel is a bad idea.”

Velvet seemed to agree. “Val, don’t do this. You remember what happened when you got Angel back. Those three fuckers showed up and threatened us.”

“Maybe they’re dead? Vox, you of all people should pay attention to the news. The hotel took the full brunt of the Extermination. I can get a crew inside and snatch Angel Dust before the princess gets her daddy for help, even if any of those fuckers are still alive.” He countered amid the argument as he walked over to the great glass window behind him and pointed at the heiress’s home off in the distance.

“We can’t risk that. The moment we lay a finger on anyone one of their people, Lucifer isn’t going to fuck us over in ways we can’t imagine.”

The moth overlord scowled and shook his head at their disagreement. Then he brushed past the only two that could ever be referred to as his equals, making his way towards the door with his coffee cup. “Fine, it’s clear you two aren’t going to join me.”

“He’s still hung up over losing control of Angel Dust. Can’t say that I’d blame him.” She then handed the television overlord his coffee and contemplated their situation to the wider world that was Pride, “After all, that damned spider knew how to rake in some cash.”

“It’s much more than that.” The pornstar’s relationship with Valentino was personal. It was a relationship dynamic between a master and a slave. Most overlords tended to remind their posse who owned them but there were those who enjoyed the ability to control and dictate the will of others. Vox was no different but exploited that relationship through technology. He then washed those thoughts out as the scalding hot coffee ran down his throat.

“You don’t have to tell me. Do you have any idea how many times he’s ordered special dresses he commissioned before tearing it apart to get himself hard trying to fuck Angel?”

He didn’t need to ponder about that imagery before his eyes fell upon Pentagram City and it’s local rulers. The Vee’s encounter with those three strangers entering their studio had left an impression on him. Lucifer always had agents throughout Hell and anybody who didn’t respect that Fallen Angel’s power usually found themselves with their head on a pike. Yet, there was always a particular theme about their ability to kill an overlord. They are hardly merciful; yet, these men were.

Being suspicious of their sort had always been the norm but his mind pondered about the possibility that they could have been juked. Having all of these drones and cameras around at his service, helped with his surveillance over rivals and old-time overlords who knew better. He needed more evidence to showcase whether or not Angel Dust’s protectors were pretenders in a ruthless game for power.

A pair of footsteps ran to the open doorway as the two Vees turned to see a disheveled sinner in a purple suit and a dice for a head. “Boss, I know it’s not my place to say anything but I think you two deserve to know what is going on.”

“This better be worth my time,” Vox stated, annoyed by the usual affairs of this life, “I’ve got shit to worry about.”

“Uh, Valentino formed a crew and they’re driving off somewhere. He said that they’re heading to the Hazbin Hotel.”

He dropped his coffee cup after being stupified by the fact that his partner had gone ahead anyway with his plans. While his blue suit was stained by a brown mark, he was more concerned by the fallout. “Fuck! Velvet, get the helicopter!”

Chapter Text

It was difficult to find a semblance of calm in these times and Vaggie took the moment to sit on the bleachers and watch Artyom and Lucifer practice. The ruler of the Dark Realm was swift and assertive with his cane while the inexperienced investigator tried to keep up. Fighting in close quarters would be an added benefit to everyone at the hotel as it meant the Exterminators wouldn't overrun them in the first five minutes. Still, she wondered if it was enough to make a difference if they all were approaching Heaven.

She saw Tony appear in the doorway to her left with his helmet underneath his arm. He kept himself close to the wall and approached the sinner from her flank. Meanwhile, the woman glanced at the sparring match to see the king and his apprentice increase their fighting pace. The last time she saw him was when she looked over the last two phonebooks to find people to help him reach his goal. "So, who's kicking who's ass?"

"Aren't you supposed to be busy looking for people to help us?" She asked, wondering if he was being lazy or taking a break.

"I just did but I didn't have any names worth a damn. That and Alastor seemingly ate a quarter of the people the department found useful."

"They don't call him the Radio Demon for nothing." Vaggie remarked as the Heavenly servant took a seat beside her and leaned forward. There had to be a reason he came here. "Why come here of all places?"

"The Gendarmes are good fighters compared to most people down here. Even your overlords ain't going to stand toe-to-toe with them. Now, when you pit my boys and girls against Exterminators that changes the equation by a lot. If things go well when we pass through the other side, sooner or later, we're all going to come back in force." Tony seemed to be trying to make a point, one that would be relevant to the conversation. Just where was he going with this?

"What kind of plan do you have for us?"

"Hell has a business specialized in selling holy weapons to its customers and I intend to tap into that," That raised an eyebrow from the sinner. There were rumors of an arms dealer running behind the scenes; however, she doubted that anyone would leak the information, "We're going to need stockpiles of their stuff and I know just the person to help us."

Hearing his intentions made her widen her eyes with surprise. She was sure the man had good information on most folk living in Hell but to learn there was a key supplier in Pride who could help had lifted her mood. "So, you're going to find this person and convince them to come around and supply your department?"

"Me? Who said I was going to be the only one looking for them? I need a volunteer to accompany me and you're it."

"W-What?" She stammered.

He turned his gaze upon her. "Yeah, I found the main location of said overlord. I'm going to make a deal with someone there and things will get better on our behalf."

"Why would I need to come with you?" None of this made any sense. Was he trying to hit on her in some weird way? He had other options if he needed company. She crossed her arms and was skeptical of his decision. "Couldn't you have looked for anyone else to help you out?"

"As much as I would like to believe those zealots left the city, I have a feeling they still have some stragglers running about. It would be nice to have someone watch my back. Sure, there's Alastor but he's the sort who'll stab you in the back or his ego is big enough to be a problem. I'm also banking on the fact that you're quite competent and level-headed compared to everyone else."

This had to be his way of giving a compliment because she felt good, knowing Tony would pick her over Alastor. Oh, if only the Radio Demon heard about this, would those beady red eyes look upon her with a tang of jealousy? "So, who exactly are we looking for?"

"An overlord by the name of Zestial. He's powerful but not the actual reason I'm looking around. He's always accompanying a woman by the name of Carmilla. Those two seem close to the point I'd call them roommates since their relationship is so obvious." Hearing their names granted a cold shiver down her spine for those two were considered some of the more powerful overlords compared to everyone else in Pentagram City. Both carried a reputation of importance but also have carefully kept the media attention off their backs.

"Those two aren't going to be easy to find," She admitted, knowing the lengths they would have to take to succeed in meeting those two, "Are you sure we can afford to do that right now?"

Tony chuckled and smiled in her direction. "You forget that I work for the Department of Purgatory. We always have placed marked down here. All we have to do is knock on the right doors and ask the right questions."

The sparring match between Artyom and Lucifer seemed to intensify with the loud clash of metal. Soon the duo turned to see the King of the Dark Realm unsheathe his cane sword and clash against the investigator's zweihander.

"While we're out there, both of us will get to be alone and I feel that we need to have a one-on-one conversation."

"Why do you want to be alone with me?" Vaggie grew suspicious of his intentions as he let out a deep breath.

"I've been keeping this secret close to my chest and always wanted to tell you but I've never had a chance until recently," He took a deep breath, "It's one of those things that has to be revealed privately, and a decision that only you could make."

Pavel Morozov reached the perimeter of the Hazbin Hotel as his companions tried to keep up. The serpent inventor and his platoon of egg minions were always lagging but Sir Pentious was always alert at ferrying them to follow his lead. In the small moments observing the sinner's behavior, the man seemed to act more like a fatherly figure to his minion's child-like actions. If he had a file on him, perhaps he could figure out a piece to that strange puzzle.

The front of the building was a depressing sight. The burnt wrecks of the department's vehicles deployed to the hotel's defense remained, some even containing the charred corpses of his colleagues. Beyond them, the hotel's lawn was occupied by Hell's royal guards clad in crimson red plate armor while wielding fully automatic firearms. They noticed their arrival with a pair of Hellborn soldiers approaching them with their hands warning them.

"Halt! By the order of his majesty, you are to turn around and leave the hotel's premises." A woman shouted from underneath the steel helmet and its electronic speakers.

His superior better inform them about his current task. "I'm following orders under Tony to bring this sinner and his minions to the hotel."

"Wait right there, I'll have to check this in." She answered as Pentious and his followers caught up and waited patiently. Pavel stole a glance from them before returning his attention to the heavily armed soldier speaking underneath her helm, but the sound remained inaudible to him. "You're clear, move along."

The Russian led the way as his scaly companion slithered behind him along with a squad of eggs tapping against the pavement. Then they arrived at the front of the hotel building, the damage to the windows still reminding the Purgatory Investigator of a missed battle and bloodshed here. A pang of guilt resided in his heart that he was away while his peers laid down their lives trying to keep a rogue archangel and his army from kidnapping the Princess of Hell.

His eyes lingered on the doorbell button to the side and he was surprised that it even survived the onslaught despite all of the chaos that happened there. He pushed the button and an electronic ring echoed from the front and inside the building. Of course, he could have just walked in but even he knew that Hell hadn't fallen so low for guests to be rude to their hosts.

"I'm on my way, hoes!" A woman shouted from inside as the front door swung open and a one-eyed sinner stood in their way.

Pavel noticed Sir Pentious tense up around the corner of his eye. "Oh, hello there."

"You little shit!" She leaped forward and grabbed the snake sinner by the throat as they tumbled onto the lawn. Meanwhile, her free hand brandished a pink bomb with a skull emblem as she was about to plant the explosive into him. How? The investigator figured she would shove it down his throat. "Want a second ass-kicking, huh?!"

"Cherri, I-I'm not here to fight." He managed to churn out some words as the woman's grip grew ever-tighter around his windpipe. Despite her focus on trying to kill him first, the minions were eager to brandish their weapons of sidearms and blunt weapons to rescue their master from dying.

"Ma'am, I brought him here under my superior's orders. We need him." The Russian weren't going to let it happen since had a job to do and orders to follow.

Her head turned to him while the handheld bomb was ready to be thrown in Sir Pentious's direction. "Why in the ever-living-fuck do you need him? He tried to kill me and Angel Dust. Hell, he tried to attack the Hazbin Hotel on the same day!"

"I only know that he needs to be brought here. Don't know why but it sounds important and I can't let you kill him." If these two had a history, he would have to satisfy her concerns by hinting about it at a later time. "Not now but maybe another time."

"Why are you even suggesting that she can kill me? I thought you were being genuine with rescuing me?" The serpent seemed shocked about his reasons as disbelief fell over his damned existence of a face.

What he could only do to alleviate the mood of the two sinners was a joke as he smiled and chuckled at the sight of one being on top of the other. "I am not going to stand between you and a woman's scorn. Besides, you two deserve a little bit of privacy to yourselves if you like to be rough around each other."

Their eyes widened at the implication as absolute disgust took over with Cherri retracting her hand grenade and peeling off her victim. Meanwhile, Sir Pentious was being comforted by his egg followers as they helped him rise upright. The power of being associated with an embarrassing moment is far stronger than spite and rage. It comical truth in Pavel's line of work between Heaven and Hell.

"Well, let's see what the others are up to."

He walked into the building and found himself inside the main hallway as the dark red and purple corridors contrasted with the colors of Pentagram City. The investigator wanted to explore and get a look at Princess Charlie's home but the needs of his department couldn't be ignored. There was the other issue that it was his first time here and that he'd need directions on where to find his comrades.

A doorway to the right side of the hallway elicited the sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses among audible conversation. Curious, he made his way over and stood at the entrance.

Inside the room was what seemed to be a lounge of sorts while containing the hotel's bar. It was manned by a sinner who was a cat with wings, appearing like those old hustlers from the American movies about gangsters. Yet, he served three people sitting on stools, a flamboyant spider in pink and two fellow servants from the department who had dropped any pretense of a disguise. Artyom and Uhlman seemed to be entertaining their company while sharing drinks with those on this side of the Dark Realm.

The older of the two dead Polis Rangers took a quick swig at his glass before slamming it onto the wooden counter. Uhlman gulped and gasped for air as he turned to the sinner. "There was one time I had to go look for Artyom inside this bunker complex. You know what the fucker was doing? Playing golf with a pair of night-vision goggles."

"No, fucking way." Pavel heard the arachnid's reaction and leaned forward. "Okay, Arty, you got to explain what you were doing?"

"I was bored and my friend took his sweet time getting to me! I had just killed this spiderbug with a huge tail and its muscles were locked into place. So, I cut it off and used it to hit grenades into a goal I made out of tin cans." Said the younger Polis Ranger sitting between them.

"That's what we should do. Let's go break into a golf course and have some fun when this is all over."

"Ha, maybe we could turn it into a barbecue." Artyom replied while sliding his glass to the bartender and gesturing him to add more into a glass cup full of ice, "Maybe a couple of fireworks while we're at it."

The cat sinner reached under the counter and pulled out a white bottle before he gestured his head past the trio of drinkers. "I think we got company."

"Comrades, it's good to see all of you in a good mood!" Pavel announced as he walked over to his colleague and pulled off the bracelet hiding his true identity. Three Russian men in Kevlar armor and Altyn helmets began to hug one another.

"Who's this guy?"

Uhlman spun in his chair and addressed the newcomers in the room. "Gentlemen, this is Pavel Morozov. He and Artyom met a couple of times and almost tried to kill each other in life." He stopped and extended his arm out, pointing at the sinners. "The guy behind the counter is Husk and the gay pornstar is Angel Dust."

"I know who they are." The former communist replied, revealing his knowledge to everyone in the room. "Unlike you, I actually read the briefs."

"Like you already." Said the wing sinner as he reached underneath the counter and pulled out a black bottle. Then he popped the cork and began drinking.

The mood of the conversation began to shift as Pavel walked over to the older colleague. "Where's Tony? I came here with the VIP."

"He went out with Vaggie. Said that he needed to talk to an overlord when we do come back to Hell." Hearing the news wasn't demoralizing but he had to continue babysitting the snake he casually brought into the hotel. "Take the time to relax. All of us were planning to do some spin-the-bottle shit and talk about ourselves. Want to join?"

"Really, of all the times, now?"

"You'll find that a little bit of humor does a lot for people like us."

The two succubi hiding out at the Macho Machine had been glued to their phones on recent news. Since the building was officially closed, Verosika and Kiki resided in the office space where the ancient blood-fueled war machine would manage the popstar's finances. She laid herself on the couch while scrolling through her screen, looking at her social media to see how everyone else was holding up since the early extermination. Asmodeus and Beelzebub had been called to serve the ruler of Hell but Vortex managed to keep the rest of her gang from entering Pentagram City as much as possible.

She let out a relieving breath that her closest friends weren't in harm's way. The same couldn't be said about her boyfriend. The singer sat upright on the couch and thought about Railtracer's sincerity as the minutes passed. Her heart seemed to be encouraged by her continued feelings for him despite his mystery. Maybe she had been watching too many romance flicks but the novelty of having to live in one warmed up to her.

Her friend stood from a table across from her and expressed her annoyance. "Any more of those bagels and they're going to get to my hips. I'm going to raid the pantry, do you want anything while I'm there?"

"No, I'm good. Go treat yourself." Verosika answered as she watched her walk off to the door to her left.

Alone to herself, she focused her full attention on the phone and searched through the social profiles. Her mind sprang into action by going through page after page in search of her boyfriend's origins. Then she stumbled upon her ex-boyfriend's business profile since he was the owner of I.M.P. Blitzo and his employees seemed to have a connection with each other based on the way their profiles handled coworkers and close relations.

When it came to looking at Railtracer's information, all she had was a default page that people would only get if it was made up of scammers or they were too new at using technology. Even then, everyone had their personality when handling their information. This was different as she scoured for any other information about her lover's life. Yet, there was no quick summary explaining his existence at I.M.P, not even casual pictures of himself.

It was as if he was just a blank slate.

Kiki returned and came through the door while huffing for air. "Verosika, we have a problem."

"What's going on?"

"I was just about to head into the kitchen but there's a bunch of armed humans out front." She answered while shutting the door behind her. As she locked it, a loud shatter of glass echoed from downstairs, "We have to get out of here."

The succubus was used to the way of life the ancient war machine established. Yet, V1 also knew that it wouldn't be around to protect her so her adoptive father installed secret rooms where they would be protected until it would return. It wasn't exactly a comfortable place but safety was its own form against danger. "Follow me, we can hide in here."

She stood up and got her friend to walk after her as the pop star turned to her right and walked to the other side of the room. Three sets of bookshelves were placed against the wall before the duo came over with Verosika remembering which was the mechanism to open the hidden door. Tugging a book out of place, the center shelf shifted out of place and revealed a room full of video screens.

They quickly ran inside as the secret entrance returned to camouflage itself into normalcy. Once locked into place, the succubi ran over to the series of screens to their right and took a seat in plastic chairs. The first detail that grabbed their attention was a group of six human men in military gear walking through the front door's shattered window. The sound picked up the crackling of glass they proceeded to search and check the rooms on the first floor.

"I just want to know, is this place soundproof?" Asked a concerned Kiki.

Verosika looked over to a scared companion and acknowledged with a nod of their head. "Dad made sure I wouldn't get myself caught if I started screaming in terror."

The two returned their attention to the camera screens in silence. Each masked stranger in black balaclavas looked around but from the way they searched, they weren't rummaging through the cash registers nor did they make a run for the safe. It looked less like they were trying to rob the most dangerous coffee shop in Hell. What other reason did they have for coming here?

A thought finally occurred to her that maybe they weren't looking for something. Instead, the intruders were trying to find someone.

One of the armed humans soon began to make their way up the steps onto the second floor. "You sure the intel's good?"

"I'm sure. One of those Purgatory guys was guarding those girls instead of joining the others at the hotel." Another man answered as they searched through the office space that Verosika and Kiki once occupied. The only obstacle between getting found and caught was one shelf and a single book. Then he continued talking. "Lucifer got that place locked down and I figure Graves would like to know what Azrael's department is doing next."

"What if we don't find him and find the Hellborn instead?"

"You know how it is. Interrogate and neutralize. Can't spare any witnesses but any bit of information counts." The leader of the squad casually answered. Images of what the man meant by neutralized would have been terrible if her imagination had been wild.

She looked over to her friend, who retreated underneath the desk where the camera screens were set up. The pop star raised a finger before her lips, gesturing Kiki to be silent while she watched the security footage focused on the men.

"Fuck, this can't be it. They got to be somewhere around here."

"If this goes well, shouldn't we link up with Archangel of Judges in the Badlands?" Another asked, seemingly worried about their predicament.

"No can do. We all missed the exfil and Adam would raise Hell if we left behind a trail. He might be a chill dude but no one wants to be on his bad side." Then the intruders began to rummage through the cabinets and drawers. An insidious feeling of being found was enough to try and plan her eventual discovery. "Don't worry, I heard that we've taken refuge in one of the old condemned buildings around these parts. We're using the sewers to get around and avoid the Crimson Guard."

Soon, they approached the book cabinet and its secret button. She turned around and saw a closet, it wasn't a place to hide but it did have a useful item within. Verosika quickly walked there and opened it, revealing a collection of potions her father produced on her behalf. If the worst fate of being found came to be, V1 had an invisibility vial that would hide her in plain sight. She grabbed two and gestured for her friend to come over. "Drink this, we'll be able to hide in plain sight."

"Are you sure this will work?" Kiki scrambled forward as they both held their vials together.

"I don't know but it's better than nothing." The succubus turned to the cameras and saw the armed men run through the books one by one. "Drink up and don't make a sound.

They popped the cork off and quickly dumped a clear but horrible-tasting liquid into their gullets. It was the most unholy vile aroma that she had ever consumed as the sound of mechanisms clicked and goosebumps fell upon her. Now was the moment that she prayed to someone, anyone, to come and save her.

The entrance to the secret room opened as the two girls held hands, a small moment of comfort between friends as the six men in black uniforms and Kevlar entered the room. Their barrels were raised as they carefully walked inside, red laser sights peering at what they found. Heads looked around and turned on a swivel, scanning the room before one of them walked over to the cameras.

"Looks like this was a dead end. Fuckers must have run off." He said, disappointed at their discovery.

One of the men by the entrance lowered his rifle and seemed to relax his posture. "So, what happens now?"

"We link up with the others and provide a listening post. Let's go people, we've wasted enough time here."

Their heads nodded, acknowledging their leader's decision to move on. Soon, they turned away and began to leave, their boots clicking against the floor. One by one, they walked in a line as they proceeded to take their leave. It was the hardest few minutes that the girls ever faced as Verosika tried to hold her urge to pee in horror. She didn't want to speak at that moment until the intruders were finally gone.

Her gaze fell upon the multiple camera screens, watching and counting everyone making their way to the front. One by one, the succubus made sure that these six men got out. When the last one finally exited the shattered door, it seemed like he claimed a bagel with cream cheese and a cup of iced coffee for himself as they entered two cars and drove off.

A great relief fell upon them while Kiki hugged her without hesitation. Whoever, these men were, seemed to be chasing Pavel. Then she considered their conversation about archangels and departments. All it did was raise her suspicion about the relationship she and her friend had with their lovers.

Was Artyom truly a sinner?

Velvette took the wheel as Vox was beside her in the passenger seat while holding on to the handlebars. With her foot slammed hard against the peddle, the overlord of fashion sped through multiple traffic lights across Pentagram City. Plenty of distance had been covered in so little time; however, it wasn't enough to tell Valentino to stop. Lucifer's wrath would be swift and terrible if the third member of their power circle managed to kickstart a fight against the princess and her friends.

The Hazbin Hotel grew ever-closer and she hoped they would talk sense into their moth-like friend. Yet, the mood changed when an explosion erupted from the hotel itself. "Oh, for fuck's sake, the cunt starting his attack!"

Four cars were parked half-hazard out front as gunfire was exchanged between the gangsters using their vehicles for cover and the hotel's inhabitants. As the shooting continued, bullets swept across the front lawn with shooters from the windows directing their fire on them. Velvette was petrified in her seat when the engine block was riddled with shots and bullet holes trailed toward her. She was taken by surprise when Vox lunged for the wheel and managed to swivel their Camaro out of the line of fire. She regained control and parked behind their gang's defilade.

Her head turned to Valentino and his guys huddling behind cover while automatic firepower flew overhead. She unlocked her car and crawled out of the seat as the television overlord did the same; yet, he seemed to struggle out of his seat belt with a hand clutching onto his shoulder. He got hurt trying to help her as they both crawled over to the moth. For now, it looked like the blood was being stifled by compression and cloth alone.

The moth in charge rallied his men as it seemed like the shooting from the hotel slowed down. "Light'em up, boys!"

All the gangsters stood up and hosed the building with their rounds. Glass was shattered by the impact of the bullets and carefully cut shrubbery had its branches clipped. Velvette peeked over to see the dark silhouettes shirk from the openings and take cover. As the magazines of assault rifles and submachine guns ran dry, the organizer of this attack knelt to one knee to reload.

"Surrender Angel Dust to me and I'll be on my way!" He shouted before looking back to notice his fellow overlords present. "Hey, are you guys here to help?"

Vox uttered his annoyance and pain as his head glared at the porn star director. "What the fuck were you thinking? We got to get out of here before the King of Hell shows up."

"Ah, quit your bitching and watch me reclaim what's mine. It's just one small request. It's not like I'm trying to put a hit on the princess."

"Running so soon?" This voice was filtered, almost similar to Vox's tone but there was a sadistic satisfaction to the statement. She turned around and felt petrified that the Radio Demon had ambushed them from behind.

"You!" The electronic overlord of cameras and television said as if he was accusing him, "If you're here for a second round, I'll be sure to kick your ass."

"Oh, I do wish to see you try but maybe we can schedule another time."

"Then why the fuck are you here?!" Vox demanded from his rival standing over the hunched-over gang.

"Consider this a lesson in humility. Had it been any other time, I think this attack would have been daring, I say. Unfortunately, all of you have made a grave error to perform a raid on the princess' home." She didn't know what he was trying to say but it sounded ominous as he continued, "I wonder what his majesty would have to say about that since he's paying my boss a visit."

She widened her eyes in horror. Lucifer was here and if that was the case, it wouldn't take long for them to be in the world of trouble. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, we need to get out of here!"

"Look up!" One of the low-ranking gangsters hollered out.

Everyone's attention shifted to the skies as a skinny figure in a white suit and hat lept out of the window from the higher floors. The jumper descended upon the group with great haste. Just as the stranger was about to land, white wings sprouted from his back, flapping and slowing his descent as he gracefully with his black boots finally touching the ground among the Vees and their followers. Velvette heard shouting from the hotel but couldn't hear any audible words as the guns fell silent.

The latest arrival exuded a confidence rarely seen in people but she knew better than to mock the theatrics of Hell's highest authority. Lucifer, the ruler of the Dark Realm, stood among them while his wings dissipated and he adjusted his bow tie. Then he summoned a cane with an apple on top.

"Does anybody here care to explain why you have the gall to attack my daughter's hotel?" He asked with a hint of disdain in his voice.

All sinners were silenced by his question and the fashion overlord couldn't come up with a decent explanation that wouldn't result in her death. Her eyes glanced over to her peers with Vox keeping himself together from his gunshot wound and Valentino dropping his special cigarettes from his lips. The animosity from the monarch of the Dark Realm revealed the terrified souls, sweating within his presence.

"Explain, now."

"My name is Valentino, "The porn directing overlord began as he lowered his Tommy gun and identified himself, "One of the souls I own is currently living with your daughter and I'm trying to get him back."

Velvette couldn't explain the atmosphere but she could feel the heat emanating from his majesty. "And you think your best option was to attack her? After my daughter had been attacked and almost kidnapped by the Archangel of Judges and his army of exterminators."

"Well, sir, it does look bad when you put it like that."

"Your contract with this soul, hand it over." The moth overlord was taken by surprise as he reached into his shirt from the collar and produced a magical parchment of someone's soul-binding name. Then he passed it to the king of Hell as he began to inspect the contract and the name at the bottom. "Angel Dust, am I right?"

He nodded his head and acknowledged the man whom the trio had once tried to collect a while ago. She saw a brief smile from Valentino as he revealed a question. "It's just him. That is all I want from the hotel."

"If my whispering agents are anything to go by, this is not the first time you have tried to reclaim him."

"Yes. He has managed to escape from our grasp and if it weren't for those meddlers trying to protect him, all of us would be on our merry way."

"I see." Lucifer looked at the speaking overlord for a brief second until his hands ripped the contract in two. A green flame burned away the paper as he tossed it into the air, leaving behind, only ashes.

Velvette watched as her friend expressed his absolute shock by trying to latch on to the dissipating soot. "What did you do?"

"I removed the only reason that brought you to Charlotte's hotel. Can't have a reason to come back here if that is what caused this mess in the first place."

"B-But, I own him," Valentino dropped his gun on the ground as his draught was revealed, "He was mine?"

The king approached the sinner as they were face-to-face. "Was being the key word. Due to an unfortunate situation, I am not privy to tell, I can't have you interfere with my affairs and this Angel Dust is now my concern. Any further attempts to accost and harass him will result with an immediate execution. If my daughter wasn't watching me, I would have killed you on the spot. Now, all of you will leave before you incur my wrath."

"You heard him, people. We are getting out of here." The fashionista ordered as the Vee gang retreated to their cars and began to drive off. Meanwhile, she helped the television overlord back into his seat, checking if he was alright. "We'll go to a hospital first before we head home."

Vox smiled before grimacing with his wound. "Yeah, it sounds about right. I'm just glad that Val didn't go ahead and get all of us fucked."

She returned to the driver's seat and put on her safety belt before looking ahead of the vehicle to find Alastor standing beside a fuming ruler, smiling and waving them a farewell. It was hardly genuine and the Radio Demon was enjoying their shame.

"Next time, old man. I'll wipe the smug off your face."

Two souls sat quietly in a car to stake out for an overlord. In the meantime, they had parked one of Charlie's many sedan cars into the street beside what seemed to be a factory complex. It was a waiting game but Tony was willing to pay for some fast food as they quietly ate and drank in their seats. Vaggie bit into her chicken fingers while stealing a glance from her companion scanning the front entrance of a series of elevators ahead of the group.

She had heard about Zestial, a powerful overlord accompanied by dangerous friends. It was a reputation the average sinner would respect but the sinner didn't know his extensive history as well. All she knew was that he met with the other major heads of Pentagram City and made decisions behind closed doors. Beyond that surface-glance knowledge, the moth didn't know what to make of him.

All of that remained irrelevant as the thought of Tony's earlier conversation with her at the hotel bothered her. Since they were settled down and waiting, now was the time to ask him about the topic. "You wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Yes. I've been keeping this close to the chest ever since the department revealed themselves to you." He turned to her, his head encased in a mask and helmet with two red glowing eyes peering into the woman's soul. The investigator let out a deep breath as he continued. "For the longest time, have you ever considered why you ended up in Hell?"

"I mean, there were a few times that I thought about it but not too much into it. Why?" Where was he going with this?

"You were never meant to be in Hell in the first place."

"What do you mean?" His tone sounded ominous and she didn't like the implications. "I'm in Hell. Doesn't that mean I'm a sinner?"

Tony shook his head, revealing a truth that she hadn't anticipated ever since she was sent here. "Not every person sent to Heaven is a Saved and people sent to Hell aren't always sinners. If things were so simple, my department wouldn't have infiltrators trying to find lost souls and sending them where they needed to be."

"And I'm one of these lost souls?"

"The one I was supposed to bring to Heaven."

The whole world froze and Vaggie couldn't tell if he was telling her a white-faced lie. It was hard to take that truth seriously now of all times. "Bullshit. If I was meant to go to Heaven, why didn't you take me there already? Why wasn't I told in the first place?"

"One day, when I was tasked to bring you Heavenside, I watched you from afar and saw two girls laughing and enjoying their intimacy. You and Princess Charlie were happy then and still are today. What right did I have to take that away from you?" The Department of Purgatory had been watching her all along and did nothing to save her soul. Yet, she was surprised that his real reason for refusing to be taken was much more… human.

"Couldn't I be with her and still have the right to be in Heaven?" There must have been something keeping him from doing so. "Why tell me now all of a sudden?"

"I didn't want to break her highness' heart. She's too pure to have a loved one ripped away from her, never to be seen again. While you do have the right to enter Heaven without going through the trials of redemption, you will never be able to return to Hell. It's a permanent residence. Regardless of how you think of me, you deserve to know the truth."

That was why he was acting weird with her. Vaggie didn't know what to make of Tony after he revealed this. She wanted to punch him for having her suffer through the pain of living in Hell; however, the saved soul had to respect his willingness to try and be frank with her. Ever since he showed up on the hotel's doorstep, he was always trying to offer assistance. It was hard to find a reason to hate him.

"I'm sorry that I didn't do my job if you want to blame me." He deserved more than pity.

A loud commotion erupted from the front as sinners ran past them along the sidewalk. She looked ahead and saw a tall and dark figure stride across the street while passing bystanders fled from his presence. Her neck felt a cold chill down her spine despite being in the safety of the vehicle. Then a click from the driver's side deactivated the car's locks.

"That must be Zestial."

Both stepped out of the car and walked past the fleeing low-ranking sinners brushing the duo aside. It wasn't uncommon to meet with other overlords but Vaggie hoped that her protection as Charlie's girlfriend had to count for something in Pentagram City. The black spider overlord had crossed the road and was about to enter the building along the left side of the road before he stopped at the entrance and gazed into the camera above the entrance into the factory complex.

Tony raised his hand and waved at the stranger before he raised his voice and called him out. "Overlord Zestial, I presume?"

"Oh, who is't art thee?" The intimidating sinner asked before he turned to address them. "Few dareth approach me."

"I don't want a complicated conversation but I need to speak to someone and I think you know where she is." The courier stated with blunt honesty.

"By conv'rsation, doth thee cullionly assassination 'r art thee genuine?"

"You are very lucky that I actually understand what you are saying." He said amusingly, referring to the overlord's speech. Vaggie caught up and stood by his side, receiving a brief glance from Zestial's green eyes. "It's the latter. I've got a business proposition for your friend if you'll let me and Vaggie through."

He mused to himself before his hand extended to the elevator entrance underneath the camera. "To has't a royal's lov'r as thy companion might not but imply thy relation with a pow'rful ranketh. I'll ent'rtain thy requesteth and alloweth both of thee seeth Carmilla in p'rson."

"Thank you, sir." She finally spoke to him as his gaze fell on her. "It's going to be quick since neither of us wants to impose our time on either of you."

"Let us go."

Chapter Text

Hell’s well-known arms dealer arrived at her office after her daughters informed her about an upcoming meeting with Zestial. Whenever he made a call, she would always give him the time. Their relationship ran deep to afford to miss a meeting with brokers, customers, and clients.

She walked over to her office’s beverage table and grabbed the largest jug. It was her duty as a weapons manufacturer and a mother to ensure her business was not only run well but safe enough from the troubles of Pentagram City and the rest of the Dark Realm. She popped the cork and immediately took a sip, relieving the accumulated tension throughout her latest week.

The latest news worried her as the servants of Heaven often kept to themselves during the Exterminations. Now, it was no longer the case as their sudden and uncharacteristic timing made them appear once again in full force. At first, she imagined they would ramp up their assaults throughout the city but her informants proved otherwise. The Hazbin Hotel was their primary objective and that alone worried her. While she may not have been privy to the affairs of Lucifer’s palace, it was a threat to the status quo she and her daughters enjoyed until now. The Devil would respond in force and Heaven would escalate despite their Fallen Archangel. All that mattered now would be her preparations.

Whether it would be enough was another question entirely.

Doors opened to her left as she turned to greet an old familiar friend in his spider-like appearance. His yellow-green eyes brightened in excitement as he exuded a wholesome atmosphere for someone so terrifying to the average sinner. He smiled and made a slight bow from his head. “How is thy day, mine own lief?”

“Aside from the latest Exterminator attack, I have managed. I’m glad to see you’ve got out unscathed.” Overlords were always powerful enough to protect themselves and their souls but one could never be too careful. Sometimes, luck would have it that they would be slain by a simple jab of a spear. Carmilla returned the jug to the table and poured her whiskey into a glass cup. “You’ve wanted to see me?”

“Forsooth.  Th're art some charact'rs whom i've encount'r'd yond seeketh an audience.  Knowing thy business, i feeleth an obligation to esc'rt those folk to thee.  T might not but beest did deal most carefully upon the hour as one of these visiteth'rs holds some imp'rtance of social standing.”

“Always the considerate. Once things have calmed down, we should take some time off.” Hinting at their intimate relationship both shared.

“Say the date and I shall come.” In a different time and place, she would have gladly slayed him without hesitation. For such was the nature of living in Hell. Whether it was by luck or destiny, the overlord adored the man who had grown to provide more than just companionship. He spoke again, bringing attention to the current matter. “Now, may I bring our guests to this meeting?

She nodded her head. “You may.”

Several pairs of footsteps made their way into the room as a woman and what seemed to be a man had arrived on time. The former was a gray-skinned sinner with a moth-like appearance as her white hair remained a stark contrast to the red blouse and the black miniskirt. Meanwhile, the former was a masked stranger wearing a helmet with red glass eye sockets that encased his entire head with a pair of blue jeans and a black chest piece underneath his trench coat. It was quite an odd couple if it wasn’t for the fact that the young woman had been none other than Princess Charlie’s lover. It was enough of an eye-raiser to ponder her thoughts out loud.

“That explains why you mentioned someone important.” Carmilla referred to her lover’s previous statement. Then she took two steps forward, towering over her guests to emphasize the power within this building. Directing her attention toward the duo, the arms dealer asked her a question. “Zestial made arrangements for both of you. Start explaining before I run out of patience.”

They both exchanged glances as the masked stranger reached for the back of his helmet. With a small click, a loud hiss whispered into the room before he removed his headgear and revealed the tired face of a blonde man. Black marks were seen underneath his eye as he reassured the room with a wide smile. What ounce of politeness faded as the tall woman maintained her composure that a regular human form was standing before her. “You already know the girl but allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tony and I work for the Department of Purgatory.”

“I has't hath heard rum'rs lately but t wast hard to findeth someone telling the sooth.” Zestial remarked as if he was fascinated by the announcement of the organization.

“Then we’re getting sloppy.” The human replied at the overlord of terror and despair until he faced her. “That being said, we can afford to be sloppy.”

Carmilla crossed her arms and engaged in skepticism about this man. “So, what brings you here to my factories?”

“In case either of you were living under a rock, you’ll know that the Hazbin Hotel has been attacked. My men and I were redeployed there to keep the Exterminator Corps off their backs. While we were lucky, the odds aren’t in my favor. I’m here to level the playing field.”

“How would you intend to do that?”

“My people can’t afford to fight an exterminator in close combat but if you supply my men, we’ll be able to scratch your back somehow.” Tony answered without hesitation.

“This department… doesn’t sound like anything Lucifer would name.” She began as thoughts pondered about other possibilities. Rumors of humans fighting at the Hazbin Hotel had reached her ears, even one capable of fending off an archangel amid battle. Either they were a secret society of humans or were servants of Heaven who had revealed themselves to the guts of Hell. “Why would I help someone who desires the destruction of me and every soul under my protection?”

His eyes looked down at the floor as he let out a deep breath and placed his helmet underneath his arm. Then he looked at Zestial on his right flank and then back to her. “Ma’am, sir, pardon my language, but Hell is fucked if you don’t help me.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Mrs. Carmilla Carmine, I am stating the obvious. If you think that Heaven hasn’t paid attention to you and your daughters, then you’d be an idiot to make that presumption.” Her arms dropped to the side as her legs were prepared to make their first killing blows.

“Uh, what he means to say is that he knows that you’re a target.” Vaggie intervened by stepping in between this servant of angels and Hell’s greatest contributor to the death of sinners. Her arms were stretched out, keeping the two from drawing their arms. “Please, it’s important that you give access to your weapons.”

Angelic weapons were a premium and the overlord knew there was always a price involved. “What guarantees do you have that I’ll even take your offer?”

“Simple, I scrub your names from the records.” The unimpressed human replied as she noticed Zestial raise an eyebrow at the notion. Then he brushed past the moth sinner and reached into his pants pockets. “My department was organized to relay coordinates to the exterminators but we like to engage in malicious compliance. If I leave this building alive and with a deal in hand, I can bump you, your daughters, and Zestial off the hit list and onto a black-site archive where you’re an asset to my people.”

“I findeth yond hard to believeth.  Quite the Faustian bargain thee proposeth.” The spider gentleman remarked as he strode to Carmilla’s side, maintaining the power the duo had over Tony.

He pulled out a single bullet with a glowing white mark etched to its side. “This is a hint of what I can offer to you. A Hellfire round manufactured and developed by Michael’s finest weapon manufacturers.”

“Interesting.” The Ruler of the Industrial District always took advantage of the angelic technology her daughters could scavenge in the remains of Extermination Day. Yet, she was being presented with the least complex item this man brought forward. “You’re willing to let me have this?”

“Why waste an entire magazine of a Blessed gun when you can kill a high-ranking Hellborn or an angel with one round? You’d make a lot of money off of this and that is on top of Azrael letting me use my responsibilities to my discretion.”

“It’s so hard to believe.” She admitted, snatching the bullet from his hand and inspecting it closely. Such an offer was being so freely handed over but it also reinforced his earlier statement. No matter how much she tried to even the odds for herself and those around her, it was never enough to close the gap of power.

The human clapped his hands and slipped them into his trench coat’s pockets. “I take that you’re accepting my offer?”

“Lief, shouldn't we taketh the timeth to consid'r all of our options?” Zestial cautioned as he reached out and touched her. “As thee hath said, t's too valorous to beest true.”

“Maybe down here but I work for Heaven and it’s Archangel of Death. Sometimes, there are people like me who do show up and give the nicest presents with the fewest strings attached.” He addressed and turned to see the esteemed gentlemen.

“All f'r what? A m're transaction?”

“Believe me, I know what I’m doing.” Then Tony looked at Vaggie and nodded his head to the door. “We have plans to get going but when I do come back, make sure those weapons are on hand.”

Carmilla allowed the Saved and Sinner to depart as the spider overlord stood by her side. “I have much to do.”

“Those gents knoweth ev'rything about us, aren't thee conc'rned?” Zestial expressed as she slipped the blessed bullet into her pockets. Her daughters would have to focus on the busy work. They always enjoyed developing new projects and maybe this might be a challenge they so wanted. “We has't at each moment op'rat'd in the dark, letting the oth'r ov'rl'rds beest in the spotlight.  What becomes of us anon?”

“If they always knew of us, then there is not much we can do except perform our end of his deal.” She had killed a few exterminators over the years throughout Hell but the revelation that Heaven had a pair of eyes on her changed her perspective. If they didn’t punish her for killing one of their own, and instead reached out to her for their benefit, Carmilla could live with that. It didn’t sound like a bad deal and if Heaven’s pop-culture reputation was anything to grasp, it was that they didn’t have the desire to enslave one’s soul for a sadistic eternal servitude.

“If 't be true only we kneweth this department's true intentions.”

Verosika immediately dropped Kiki off at her house, where the rest of the gang was at. She explicitly ordered Vortex to protect them while she was out after encountering those humans. The whole world felt like it was turning on itself. What beliefs she had in the Dark Realm were being questioned as the succubus drove out to the Hazbin Hotel to seek the answers from her boyfriend. He may have suggested not to visit him but she’ll be damned if her curiosity ate her from the inside out.

Driving her car to the Hazbin Hotel was a different experience than when she left after that fateful night of passion with Railtracer and Mayberry. The home for sinners to redeem their souls had been transformed into a veritable fortress as Lucifer’s vaunted Crimson Guard patrolled the perimeter. The soldiers equipped with accursed knightly armor and automatic firearms made their rounds, scanning their surroundings until they finally recognized her vehicle bypassing the wreckage that choked the streets.

The succubus had been connecting the dots that her man fought here to keep the Exterminators off people’s backs. Leaked footage from survivors taking refuge inside the building revealed the truth. Yet, she wouldn’t let a video dictate that relationship, meeting the source face-to-face would hopefully ease her mind.

Soon a picket of the Crimson Guards approached her with their barrels aimed towards her. She began to tap the brakes and decelerate to a stop. One of the nameless men was eager to inform her of the situation. “By order of his majesty, the Hazbin Hotel is off limits. Turn around and leave.”

They were an intimidating presence but she wanted to see Railtracer badly. “I came to see my boyfriend. He lives with the princess.” Her words had no effect as they tightened their grip around their guns.

“Put that gear in reverse and get going. You have no clearance.”

She was about to slam her foot to the accelerator but they were quicker as her engine’s revvying argument was kept in check by the safeties being flicked off. It would have led to a violent end and her sinner boyfriend would have reason to grieve if she received another gunshot that was deadly enough to make this ride her last. She quietly swore to herself and began to drive in reverse. As she backed away, Verosika glanced back at the hotel while the guards relaxed and watched her depart from their sight.

It was a disappointing act from her behalf. Maybe she would never get the truth as the building grew distant in the mirror. Perhaps he would reach out to her when the time was right? Until their next meeting, the pop star settled on fleeing to Beelzebub’s place and bringing her people there. Vortex could be with his girlfriend and the rest of her friends would have better protection than what they currently had.

Driving back along the same road revealed an oncoming convoy of vehicles with a black limousine with two purple humvees and a van. One humvee was ahead of the convoy while the other secured its rear, both equipped with pintle-mounted machine guns manned by short imps in armor. The turret cupulas turned and scanned the surrounding area as Verosika slowed and let the vehicles through.

What she hadn’t expected from the convoy was the sight of a familiar van belonging to her ex-boyfriend - Blitzo. Her brow could not help but reveal her disappointment that this of all times was where they would next encounter each other. As it passed by her, it stopped as the window rolled down and the imp who had ruined her life was sitting behind the wheel. “Verosika, what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on Railtracer.” She didn’t have time to deal with his nonsense as a terrible person but it was odd that he was here of all places. Just what reason did he have to be in a convoy? “What are you doing here?”

“The Queen of Hell made me and my crew their daughter’s chaperone. I’d like to say more but I can’t tell you.”

“Well, if you get through the checkpoint just say hi for him while you’re at it.” Verosika accepted her low chances of getting through. Popular as she was with the Hellborn, she didn’t have the influence of a Goetia to pass through.

“I know we both broke up horribly but I know something is dragging you down.” The imp shifted the stick shift and leaned out of his car window even further. It was as if he was taking the time to hear her feelings. A shame that Blitzo didn’t use this to save their relationship when it mattered. “What’s wrong?”

“Railtracer called me and said he was going to do something dangerous for the princess. I don’t know why he needs to do it but I want to know the truth.”

His face looked drained as if he was bitten by a vampire; however, she could tell that her former ex-boyfriend knew something. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“What are you talking about?” Her head perked at the possibility that she could understand why her man was acting weird in that phone call.

“He’s not a sinner. Railtracer’s an agent of Heaven.”

She froze and time seemed to stop. For a brief moment she pondered what that meant for their relationship until it finally made sense. Why would a sinner hang out at a place like the Hazbin Hotel? Even for all of Charlie’s efforts, it was weird that he would want to live there unless he was ordered to. Then she remembered her last conversation with him, he was going to be escorting the princess somewhere safe after the attack.

What was the point of all the deception? Was this the skeletons he was referring to? A barely-kept secret he was trying to prevent her from seeing? Verosika wanted to drag him in the open and put Railtracer on trial. She wanted answers from him and part of her wanted to hate him for playing her like an idiot. Yet, the succubus couldn’t evoke any hatred for him despite what she found out.

The popstar then remembered what he said before they ended that call. This man from the Holy Kingdom declaring his love for her. He didn’t have to go through all of that effort and cut the call short; however, it happened. Was it a genuine sense of care behind that gasmask of his?

A door was cracked open from the limo to Verosika’s left. Out from the passenger seat, a lithe blonde woman stepped out and turned to the conversing Hellborn in her black leg slit dress. “Is there a reason why you haven’t ended this conversation, Blitzo?”

“Uh, I was talking to a friend.” The assassin answered with reluctance as he turned his attention towards the Queen of Hell. “Her boyfriend is one of the Heaven agents at the hotel.”

“That explains much.” Her eyes shifted to the pop start. “I’ve seen you before. You’re the singer that accompanies Asmodeous or Beelzebub from time to time.”

The succubus didn’t know how to respond to someone who know all about her partying. Despite her nervous reaction, the royal revealed a large smile.

“What’s his name so I may send him your regards?”

“Railtracer.” She answered, unsure how to proceed with the situation.

“I’ll tell him you wanted to see him in person.” Then Lilith looked over to Blitzo. “Cut the chatter, we have to get going.” Not a word was spent when the queen returned to her limo and the imp rolled up his window. She watched as the convoy moved again and made its way to the checkpoint. When Verosika was alone at last, she looked to the front of her car and drove away.

All she had to do was go home and try to move on but the agent’s willingness to come back for her still echoed in her heart. The lonely girl wished and hope that would come true.

Angel Dust found himself standing on one of the hotel’s balcony with three other men. While the others were preparing to make their departure from Hell, they had all been tasked to keep an eye for an incoming airship. After all, the damn snake promised he would take them to their destination. It sounded like work that the spider gangster didn’t want to do but at least he could share the boredom with the two undercover agents and the bartender.

Husk had joined them with bottles of various alcohol types as the group leaned against the railing and drank together. He and Pavel were trading shots to see who wouldn’t lose their grip but Uhlman was different. The man had a pair of binoculars slung from around his neck as he took a few minutes to look at the distance for any signs of Sir Pentious.

He wanted to know more about the men who worked for Heaven. The porn star was used to the imagery of choirboys and pastors spouting scripture to convert others into faith. Angel was faithful but he never considered an angel slayer and a literal communist would find a place beyond the pearly gates.  As he walked over to the Russian’s side, he announced his company. “So, what’s it like with you and your buddies living on the other side?”

The soldier gave him a glance before focusing his gaze on the city horizon. “Depends on how you look at life, really.”

“Come on, there’s got to be something to it.” The spider replied, hoping to goad the man into talking.

“I suppose it deserves to be called strange like a fish out of water. Hell’s a mess when it comes to reaching out to old contacts but Heaven has some institutions that let you try and find out if anybody you know died as well. It’s a weird form of normalcy that I don’t think any soul is going to get used to.”

Angel couldn’t accept that Uhlman would casually describe one of the luckiest places in the afterlife as odd. He pondered about what it was like meeting others they met in life. “Did you ever talk to the people you knew… y’know, when you were alive?”

“On occasion. The first thing you do is talk and get reacquainted with the fellows before wondering what else happened on whatever version of Earth we both came from. You’d try to piece together information and hope the people you knew then were getting better.” He shook his head and hunched over the balcony edge. His head curled to his chest and let out a deep breath.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just pondering upon my own past. That’s all.” The Russian immediately replied before straightening his back upright. Then he took another swig from his clear bottle of half-full vodka. “Everyone hopes that the people they left behind are doing better while you’re gone. Then you hope that they remember you at all.”

“You don’t like to be forgotten? I get that. Shit, it’s sometimes the whole reason I do the things I do in this city. We all don’t want to be another body that just exists.” This moment to relate with someone else was just so pure. Angel didn’t have the right dictionary to put words together but it didn’t matter. Even for all the holiness these strangers represented, they were still humans underneath it all.

“It’s why I hate the Exterminators. They don’t seem to care about how you sinners and us saved are part of the same coin. The only difference between you and me is that we are of different shades of color. Once we reach Heaven, Azrael will not hold himself back.”

His head perked at the mention of the archangel. These investigators revered them and feared the one who tried to steal Charlie from the hotel. Ever since they had revealed themselves, even the sinful gangster was taken aback that they were afraid. “What’s he like?”

“Caring. The Archangel of Death believes that an honest soul deserves to be guided to Heaven like a welcoming friend. He can be ruthless but Azrael will do everything in his power to minimize the horrifying stuff underneath those robes. It also helps that he comes around and checks up on us like a manager looking out for his employees.” Uhlman described and that helped ease the porn star’s fear of encountering the Grim Reaper.

In the few moments he considered his mortality, Angel Dust thought the Grim Reaper would be eager to claim his soul and drag him into the depths of Hell. Another damned being who was just as cruel as the overlords who ruled it.

“In a way, he also gave us the clearance to come and rescue you.”

“Really?” He was taken by surprise that a high-ranking official noticed him at all. “I’m not much to look at. Why would I be worth saving?”

The investigator chuckled at his self-doubt. “If there is one thing I know about him, he has eyes everywhere. If you were someone whom he considered incapable of redemption, my boss would make it known. You haven’t seen it when he personally orders a condemnation.”

“It sounds like you guys have it for people you don’t want to redeem.”

“Worse. A condemnation is an order of execution. Life is full of moments where there are lines you don’t cross and the afterlife is no different. A condemnation is when we receive a direct message from the Garden of Eden, straight from the man himself, who took one long look at someone’s soul and declared to the world that they are irredeemable.”

“Fuck me.” He admitted, realizing that he was really lucky in the grand schemes of the universe. Then his thoughts considered the morbid curiosity of it happening on Uhlman’s watch. “Ever seen it happen?”

The Russian stopped and turned his head to look at him. He made one slight nod, confirming the experience as a witness. “Once, Azrael came across a soul who obtained incredible wealth by scamming every poor person with faith alone. The fat fuck tried to make a run into the streets but we caught him and watched him beg. It’s one thing to kill a soul, it’s another to obliterate it completely.”

It was an image that could make Angel happy. Even if he suffered the worst of existence, there was still a sense of justice out there in the world and the people running it were trying. He’d hope that it wasn’t just a coincidence they were looking out for him. The Italian couldn’t possibly consider that fate and destiny were involved; however, he couldn’t accept that he was rescued just by sheer luck.

“Contact from the southwest!” Pavel reported as everyone turned their heads to see the communist holding a pair of binoculars before his eyes. His hands extended out and pointed at an airship growing in size as it approached the Hazbin Hotel. “Not a Heaven vessel. Markings match up with our file on Sir Pentious.”

“Looks like we’re all done drinking for the day.” Husk remarked as he gathered the empty bottles littered around the balcony.

“We’ll have to report to Tony about the developments.”

Uhlman brushed past Angel Dust as he handed an empty vodka bottle to the cat-like sinner. Then he joined the other Russian, standing side-by-side. “If that’s the case, we need to make our final preparations.”

The airship flew close to the towering building where Hell’s royalty resided. Edging near the balcony, the ship opened and extended a ramp from within as Sir Pentious slithered from the depths of his vessel. “I have returned!”

“Good, do we have space for about a dozen passengers?”

“I made slight adjustments.” The serpent eagerly answered as he adjusted his black bowtie. “We’ve dropped off unnecessary cargo and ordnance for your accommodations. The extra weight has been left out, so we can get to our destination faster.”

The porn star watched the two Russians exchange a glance from each other. “Some good news for once.” Then the senior man turned to the spider. “Angel, inform the others.”

There was a perk to being Heaven’s glorified doorman and Saint Peter couldn’t complain about it. He was positioned outside the pearly gates and stood behind a podium, awaiting another wave of saved souls that had their clearance approved by the Department of Purgatory. The blessed human enjoyed meeting new people who were always glad to see him in person. Each one carried a story to their name, a past they carried as the Holy Kingdom welcomed every person who stepped through. On occasion, Eve would appear and provide him decent company to guide the arrivals into their new lives on this plane of existence.

The podium displayed a book with a never-ending list of people for him to process through. When he scratched a name off with his quill, it would fade out of existence before the others would fill in the gap. If it wasn’t for the magical power within the parchment, Peter would have ordered a computer system and a desk for any work to be done.

Silence accompanied him as he waited for any sort of action to arise.

What he hadn’t anticipated was the doors behind him cracking open. Normally, it would only do that when the Department of Purgatory had cleared a batch of saved souls to enter. The only person who casually visited him was Eve, the first woman and mother of humanity. As the gates cracked open, a lithe figure in brown leather pants and a blue button shirt stepped out with a black tricorne hat.

The woman raised her head and revealed herself with a smile. “Hello, Peter. How have things been?”

“Same as usual. I’m just trying to do my job.” He openly admitted while looking over the podium and looking through the names. While he pretended to be working, she walked past him and strode to the furthest that the gates allowed. Eve peered over the edge, looking below at the world that was Hell itself.

“Strange. One could take a jump and make it to Lucifer’s kingdom and never come back.”

“What are you looking at?” He was curious and wondered why his boss was paying a visit. “Not much worth looking at from up here.”

Few pried into the lives of the first two humans but the saint knew that she was practically the wife of Archangel Michael. It was an open secret; however, it wasn’t a terrible one. Adam had done little to improve his character after his return, all bitter around Eve’s indiscretion with Lucifer and humanity’s first murder. Her husband had become a disappointment as he willingly took charge of an all-woman unit that was the Exterminators. She would have been a lonely woman if the symbol of the Holy Father’s wrath hadn’t reached out to care for her.

It initially looked as if the High Marshal was just providing her comfort after suffering years with Adam. Then rumors came about that this friendship turned into love. Of course, they would never tell anyone in public, but she confided in the Saint that it was the best thing that happened to her. She was happy and Peter was glad that there was someone for her.

“Have I ever told you about my son?” The mother of humanity asked as she turned to look at him.

“Which one? Cain or Able?”

“Everyone knows about them.” She replied before walking over to him and stood on the opposite side of the podium. “Not Adam’s but Michael’s.”

That was news to the saved, as his eyes widened in shock. It was bound to happen, but her nonchalance at the revelation took him by complete surprise. That was worth celebrating when his shift was over. “When?! We should invite him to a great restaurant I know of.”

“He was born more than twenty years ago. I cared for him but Michael and I didn’t want any attention from his brothers and well… everyone else.”

“Oh,” Peter realized as Eve rested both her arms on the podium from her side, “What did you two do?”

“He still performed his duties but I decided to spend my time raising my son on one of the many Earths we created. One day, that version of humanity used nuclear bombs, but it was so destructive that it cut that world off from Heaven’s gaze.” Her words trailed off as her eyes looked down at the book between them.

The saint had heard about that story. From what he learned, humanity did something to sever the connection of souls from the mortal plane of existence to the afterlife. “I think I heard about that one. I think Raphael had to do something about it.”

“He’s still working on it but it’s a lot better now than it was then. I managed to die again and give him the run-down on the situation… but I had to leave Artyom behind.” Part of him wanted to say he was familiar with that name. Yet, he was so used to knowing many names countless times that it was impossible to discern if he knew the person or not. All that was known was a name and that was it. “Till this day, he doesn’t know about me nor Michael.”

“Did he end up in Hell?” Was that the reason she was looking over the edge? Eve may have been the first woman but her ability to make exceptions in Heaven had its limits. Did the son of her second marriage fail and now she was looking down into the Dark Realm?

“Thank the Holy Father that isn’t the case. No, he works for Azrael’s department. They’ve been busy lately and my son has been on deployment since he got here.”

“I would like to meet him. It’d be interesting to see what kind of man he is.” He was still in favor of celebrating with the duo and he’d pull all kinds of strings to make it happen. Peter always enjoyed making families come together and his boss deserved it. “Would you and Michael enjoy my company?”

She smiled and laughed. “Oh, Pete, you’re always welcome. It could become a complete mess since I know you to be clumsy but you always had your heart in the right place.”

“Aw, I appreciate the gratitude.”

A beep emanated from his robes as the doorman reached into his pockets to retrieve his phone. He had received a text message from the Department of Purgatory that another wave of saved had been processed. The saint grabbed the magical pen and prepared his writing hand to cross out names for his newest arrivals.

“We got company.”

Artyom had made his preparations in the form of his backpack already stuffed with ammo and aid kits when the airship would take everyone to Heaven. Yet, he was not alone as Mayberry had her purse placed above and atop his bedside. She too had packed herself some essentials but the Russian swore he saw her slip several boxes of shotgun shells.

They both rested in his bed his arms wrapped around her as she held his free right hand. Her fingers rubbed against the polymer gloves and pressed against his palm. All they could do was wait and anticipate their departure. Not that he minded that as he could decompress aboard a sinner’s ship but also be himself without worry of expectations.

“What’s your home like in Heaven?” Helen asked as she turned her head and glanced at him. The former Polis Ranger became mindful of her horns as he shifted his head around from getting his eyes poked out.

“Why so interested?” He answered but was confused by the motive that led to her question. “You’re just going to be visiting.”

She then looked away from him and stared across the room. “Entertain a girl, would you? I know it’s going to be temporary but imagine if I decided to move in with you. What would you do to impress me?”

“I would welcome you into my apartment and let you take a look around the place. You could check out my living room while I figure out what to cook for dinner.”

“That would have been lovely.” The sinner reached over her shoulder and caressed his cheek with her hand. “Then I would take a look at your fridge and cook for you instead.”

It was a humorous mental image that Artyom decided to laugh. Helen seemingly joined him in the comedic hypothetical for a relationship that could never exist in the Holy Kingdom. Nonetheless, he enjoyed the moment they both shared.

“Would you ever play any music to set the tone?”

The thought reminded the Russian about the first pure moment he shared with his partner, long before he decided to marry her. It was embarrassing then, putting on music to ease his terrified heart but also hilarious when he tried to switch out of a song of passion. “Yes. It would take me five tries before the right one gets heard. I’d change the lights and fetch some wine bottle I got from the nearby marketplace.”

“Then Verosika would break in and get jealous that I’m stealing her man away.”

“She would be less angry but then all three of us would find a way to figure something out.” He added, hinting at their previous meet-up where an undercover agent of Heaven and his two girlfriends from Hell caused a commotion.

They were immediately interrupted when someone knocked on the apartment door three times. Artyom arose from his bed and immediately walked over to the door. Then he heard Angel Dust on the other side. “Hey, we got a meeting with everyone in the atrium.”

“We’ll be there!” Came his reply before looking back to see Helen readjust her disheveled hair. “It sounds like everyone is ready.”

“Then we better be there in five.” Mayberry remarked.

The couple made their way to the nearby elevator after walking past patrols and sentries from the Crimson Guard. It was an uneasy moment of tolerance those soldiers had for Artyom as they were not as trustful when compared to their monarch. Nonetheless, they kept to themselves and secured the floor in case there would be another raid on the Hazbin Hotel. Time passed as they descended to the first floor while happy music played in the background but it was not enough to calm the upcoming task the investigator would face.

When the doors slid open, they were immediately brought into the hotel’s main atrium, the very same one where the Russian tried to fight Gabriel. This time, it was different as he heard the familiar voice of Blitzo yelling while he was accompanied by his imps and Hellhound. When the assassin finally took notice of their arrival, his eyes widened with shock, possibly because the Russian wasn’t in his disguise anymore. “Railtracer?”

“What’s with all the commotion?” He asked of his former boss, who seemed flabbergasted by his existence.

“Well, stuff me and call me a turkey! I didn’t think we’d meet again.” Then his eyes shifted over to the woman beside him. For a brief moment, he seemed surprised before a wide smile revealed his smug reaction, “So, you two are fucking.”

Helen was quick to reply, revealing her past interaction with the imp. “I still got to thank you for killing my ex-husband and that family. Money well spent.”

“So, do you know that he’s also fucking my ex-girlfriend?”

“We’re sharing him.” She openly admitted as Artyom stole a look from her. He didn’t think she would be so upfront with how open they were.

The rest of I.M.P seemed to be taken aback by the sinner’s nonchalant reply. It was hard to tell whether the Hellborn was impressed or not with his relationship.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We’re helping out!” Millie eagerly answered with an optimistic smile on her face. It seemed that the mood around the Hellborn assassins improved from her aura. “The Queen of Hell recruited us to protect her daughter after we rescued Stolas from his wife and in-laws.”

The Russian couldn’t help himself from being glad his friends were safe now. It was plenty of people but the truth was that the investigator had no problems with his company. “It’s good to see you guys again.”

They seemed to be taken aback by his reply. Maybe they didn’t expect him to be genuine with his feelings; however, he would give them time to process their feelings on the matter. They deserved that right at the very least.

Further calls from the main atrium had caught their attention and everyone approached. Tony shouted for everyone to show up as the next phase of planning seemed to shift to its next phase. When everyone finally arrived in the room, the secretary to the Archangel of Death stood in the center of a circle of investigators, Hellborn, and sinners. The Courier demanded everyone’s attention before briefing them on the situation. “Alright, people, here’s the run-down of what we’ll need to do. We’ll all hitch a ride in Sir Pentious's airship and make our way to Heaven. It’s a risky gamble but staying here will get us killed.”

“How will you know Heaven won’t let us in?” The Radio Demon asked as he tapped his microphone. “We are, after all, using a sinner’s vessel.”

“Great question. Artyom, Pavel, Uhlman, and I have access to secure radio channels with codes from our department. Once they know it’s any of us, we can clear up any problems.”

Lucifer took his first steps and everyone turned to his attention. “Is there anyone there you can trust once Charlie and her companions leave my kingdom? Someone that isn’t out to catch her?”

“Saint Peter works at the pearly gates. He’s unlikely to get involved with Gabriel’s people since he’s practically glued to his work. We’ll reach out to Azrael and get him to provide an armed escort.” Tony explained as Artyom noticed everyone’s focus on his superior.

“I do have a question.” Stolas reluctantly spoke as the Courier shifted his eyes to the Ars Goetia. “My concern is what happens if someone notices and tries to intercept us.”

He let out a deep breath as the second-in-command to the Archangel of Death slipped his hands into his pockets. “I’m crossing my fingers that doesn’t happen but there’s no guarantee Gabriel and Adam won’t see a red blimp. If there’s anything we can rely on, it’s that they want Charlie to be taken alive. So they will board us and we’ll have to fight them off. Though, if they try and we contact some trustworthy sources on the other side… we won’t be alone in that fight.”

“Ya sound confident that we’ll get actual help. Do you have any idea who’ll help us?” Angel Dust remarked.

“There are people watching that airspace. If Gabriel’s people get found out, there is no doubt that a bunch of boarding craft attacking a ship containing the Princess of Hell will reach people like Michael.”

The ruler of Hell perked his head at the mention of that archangel. Artyom knew about the stories between him and the symbol of the Holy Father’s Wrath. It must have been painful to be reminded of that past, even if Tony wasn’t trying to incur his anger amid the briefing.

“We’ve made all the preparations that I can think of. All we need, right now, is one good night's sleep before we set off.”

“Can we still slip some time to get a good breakfast?” Helen Mayberry asked as the whole group glanced at her, amused by the suggestion. The Russian boyfriend took notice of the innocent request but couldn’t help himself but feel happy she was that considerate to cook on their behalf. “What? A good breakfast might help.”

Charlie finally joined the current conversation. “I don’t mind that. It might be a good opportunity to get everyone to get their affairs in order.”

“I suppose drinking is out of the question. Ladna, we can get drunk on a later date.” Said Pavel as he began to break off and head elsewhere inside the hotel.

Those who were assembled in the atrium had begun to leave one by one. Each one accepted the destiny that was tomorrow. The small respite they enjoyed in the aftermath of Gabriel’s attack had come to an end. They would all leave the Dark Realm and make their way to Heaven or die trying.

Chapter Text

It was an uneasy morning for the Purgatory investigators, Hellborn, and sinners. Yet, only one surpassed them all with his anxiety underneath the facade of grace and status. Lucifer ‘Magne’ Morningstar stood outside of the hotel with both hands clasped atop his apple cane. The airship that would escort the building’s residents to safety would leave shortly. For a matter so simple, it felt like he would endure the longest of hours.

One by one they walked aboard and bowed in the ruler’s and his wife’s presence. What he saw was some of Hell’s lowest being tasked with one of the greatest missions he could ever oversee. Then Charlie and her girlfriend stopped in front of him before they could enter the snake’s vessel with the assistance of his egg minions. “Dad, I know you don’t think much of Heaven but I’ll try to convince them to redeem our people here.”

He smiled at her optimism and knew better than to argue now in these times. Even after all the dire suffering and the threat of kidnapping by one of his brothers, she could still see the light amid the dark woes. It was not up to him as the angelic bureaucracy did not bow to the whims of imagination and rainbows. All that mattered was that the most precious joy of his life would return to him just as she would leave. “I know you will. Just stay safe while you’re there.”

“I will!” She gladly replied before jumping at him with her arms wide. Then she wrapped around him in a warm embrace. “It will be fine, I’m sure of it.”

“Goodbye, Charlie.”

“Bye, dad.”

His daughter slipped her arms away as she grabbed Vaggie by her wrist and dragged her to the ramp. It was a comical scene, seeing the lesbian sinner be dragged away like a child bringing her teddy bear.

The investigators and their leader gave slight nods of respect to the royal couple watching their boarding. Yet, one took the moment to break ranks and stay behind to talk to him. Artyom’s expression revealed a sense of reluctance; however, Lucifer sensed he had something to speak of. “It might not mean much, but I’ll do everything in my power to keep her out of harm’s way.”

“You already did when Gabriel attacked this hotel.” The ruler reminded him of that clash against his fellow archangel.

“Yes, but I do have something to say,” He stole a glance at the last trace of the boarding party making their way up the metal ramp. “I just want to thank you for teaching me. It might make a difference this time.”

The Fallen Archangel was taken aback when the Russian released his grip on the assault rifle slung around his neck and reached out with an empty hand. It was a bizarre situation that he found himself in. “You would shake hands with me of all people?”

“Yes, sir. I know what it’s like to be damned and I have no right to judge.”

“Brave words for a human.” He smiled, understanding the man whose courage led him to confront his brother. One of these days, should this man ever return to his realm, Lucifer would welcome him for a debt that could never truly be repaid. “Then again, I shouldn’t expect anything less from a servant of Azrael.”

Then he reached out and shook the hand of his pupil. No matter how short-term his combat lessons were, they had passed on to a soldier of Heaven. He had been used to seeing the worst of humanity throughout all of his rule. Yet, a glimpse into a a noble soul in one of the worst places in reality helped ease his skepticism on his daughter’s hotel. With people like Artyom, perhaps there was a place where a sinner could be redeemed.

“Hey, chuvak, everyone’s on board! Get inside before lift-off!” Shouted one of the Russians, who stood at the base of the ramp to catch the investigator’s attention. The man exchanged one quick look before returning his gaze to the Devil himself.

He nodded while tightening his grip on his assault rifle’s sling. “Duty calls and I have to go.”

Lucifer admired the pride in the soldier as he shifted face and strode to the airship’s ramp with purpose in each step. Then, when the saved reached the airship, he quickened his pace and double-timed his pace to get inside. Once the last of its passengers were in, the ramp began to retract back into the hull while the airship’s engines roared as if powered by the sun.

“It’s odd but I feel like I just experienced deja vu.” Lilith remarked from behind as he maintained unbroken eye contact with the ship carrying his daughter. Yet, his ears also wanted to hear what his wife had to say. “You might think this is silly.”

“This family of ours is silly but I won’t laugh. Are you troubled by something?”

“No. When that saved made his farewell, I couldn’t help but be reminded of your brother, Michael.”

“What makes you say that?” Curious to hear her reasoning as to why she would think of Heaven’s symbol for Holy Wrath.

His queen walked forward until she was standing by his side as they watched the airship rise from the ground and ascend to the skies. “Duty-bound to a fault that is what I see in that man. Someone who clearly doesn’t need to go the extra mile; however, does so anyways. I can’t read hearts but I feel he’s trying to do you right, despite what Heaven thinks of us.”

It was food for thought as Lucifer Magne Morningstar watched the airship accelerate and leave the perimeter of Pentagram City. Whoever drove the machine had flown it upwards toward the small white dot in the distance. What he once called home had been nothing more than a distant memory ever since his fall. This was the one last gambit that could save Charlie from Gabriel’s machinations.

For the first time since the elder days, the Devil prayed to the Holy Father.

There was still much to be done as Gabriel planned the next moves of his men and the Exterminator Corps. Graves had seen to it that the hidden canyon base wouldn’t be found by sinners or saved alike. Standing in the command center, the gunslinger watched a wall of camera monitors protecting the perimeter of the facility. Any Hellborn who casually approached would be spied on and if they dithered around long enough, would meet an untimely end by snipers cloaked among the dunes.

A door from his left swung open and Lute appeared in the doorway with a furious look on her face. “We have a problem!”

His hands clenched against the metal railing from the platform overlooking every console and screen. It must have been important for him to be interrupted on his casual sentry duties. “What’s wrong?”

“Those we’ve left behind in Pentagram City have reported that an airship was briefly sighted at the Hazbin Hotel.” She said making her way to his position in the room. “They just launched off and made their way towards the gates of Heaven.”

“I’ll be damned, they’re going to make the drive.” He had to admit, that whoever suggested that idea was committing themselves to the gamble or was completely desperate. He wouldn’t want to openly respect a traitor to Heaven but even Graves was caught off-guard by this move.

“I already told Adam and Gabriel. We need to make our move before they reach the Holy Realm.”

He turned to everyone in the command center as exterminators and Gabriel’s soldiers looked up to him for decisive action. “Alright people, I want assault teams prepped for VTOL deployment. Get every air-mobile asset on standby.”

Keyboards clicked and conversations about an emergency deployment made the man proud of his subordinates. Yet, he needed to remind them of their objective.

“Remember, the princess needs to be taken alive! I don’t want any fuck-ups and no one is allowed to smoke it out of the sky. Speed and aggression, folks, speed and aggression.”

The angel stood beside him with her hands behind her back. Ever since he met her, she had always been professional towards everyone. It isn’t until Adam would crack a joke that her facade of a soulless killer would break from his humor. “They’re going to be leaving our jamming range. If they do, I have no doubt they’ll try to contact a control tower of their arrival.”

“That’s why we need to get there first.”

“You’re not going to join your crew?” She asked but he had other plans. This was the one time he wouldn’t want to get into that kind of gunfight involving gunships and jet packs.

He shook his head as his focus was on the airship itself and what it would be capable of once his men were engaged. “Hey, what do we know of that thing?!”

One of the analysts below him had stood up and turned to face him. Wearing a white button shirt and a black tie and pants, he would have been another drone behind a desk if everyone hadn’t fled the failed kidnapping of Charlie. “It’s built by a sinner named Sir Pentious! We got a detailed report that it was damaged during the latest post-Extermination gang wars but our OPs say it got repaired before landing at the hotel. Speed is in line with what we have on record.”

“Alright, tell our guys to kill the engines and cripple that piece of shit. The longer we let it live, the closer they get to Heaven.”

“What about the others accompanying her?” Lute wondered since the heiress to the Dark Realm always had an entourage. “They’ll still try to protect her.”

“Everyone knows my preference. Ain’t that right?!”

“Yep-yep!” The saved in the room answered in unison.

“Besides, Gabriel doesn’t like unnecessary prisoners.”

The Exterminator then spoke of a new concern that he hadn’t thought of. “I am not one to consider the possibility of failure but what can we expect if a message reaches out? Who do you think will respond?”

“This is gonna concern the Holy Army, which means that if we don’t stop that flying barge, we’ll be putting our faith in Michael.” He stated, so sure about which authority would be noticing their operations. It was that archangel’s duty to defend the Realm of Light; however, that one fateful meeting with Azrael revealing the nature of their plans may have influenced him. He didn’t know where his loyalty lay with, only that he could either help Gabriel finally bring war to Hell or be met with a strong military prepared to adhere to the status quo. “I don’t want to place my bet on that.”

“Once we deal with this, Gabriel is going to launch a final strike on Pentagram City with what we’ve discovered here.”

That was news to him. Ever since their failure at the Hazbin Hotel, Graves turned his head to the angelic woman with morbid curiosity. “With what? We might not get another chance with what we have left.”

“For all of Hell’s efforts to present a united front, there’s always a selfish sinner or opportunistic Hellborn that will gladly sell one of their own for a quick reward.” Lute answered with a sadistic smile, instilling dread into a fellow servant of the Holy Father. “There are some who are still bitter and dissatisfied with their ruler.”

“You’re not going to spare me the details.”

“All in due time, saved. Just do your job and let me handle mine.” She replied before breaking eye contact and making her way to the door. He was left with a curious mind focused on what could be so powerful enough to help Gabriel gain the advantage and kill Lucifer Morningstar.

The departure from the city was nothing more than a speck on a small red planet the longer that Princess Charlie looked out the window. Yet, the royal hoped that this would not be the last time she would see her home despite the dangers that lurked. She didn’t know what to expect from her future, only that it was being threatened in a way she did not imagine.

Someone entered her cabin, and she turned from the window to find Vaggie standing in the doorway. “How are you feeling? I hope you don’t have homesickness already.”

“Not yet but I’m still trying to get used to leaving Hell behind.” She admitted, knowing that her girlfriend wouldn’t judge for her feelings.

“At least you’re safe.” The moth sinner walked up to her and held her hand. They both revealed a friendly smile as the one-eyed girl leaned her forehead against hers. “That’s all that matters when we get to Heaven.”

Hearing the name of their destination reminded Charlie about her expectations of that distant place her father used to grow up in. All eyes would be on her and she would have to try and break through any fear holding her back. “What will they think of me when I get there? Are they going to think I’m trying to do something villainous?”

“If the department people are anything to go by, I think they know you well enough to treat you like lost family. Even if they would be scared of you, you might not be there for long after you get to go home. I don’t exactly know what will happen to me if there is a return trip.”

“What are you talking about?” The princess asked, perplexed by her girlfriend’s ominous tone. It sounded like she wouldn’t be able to join her back at the Hazbin Hotel.

That warm demeanor faded as a worried expression revealed a concerned Vaggie. Her eyes looked down before summoning the courage to look at the heir in the eye. “Charlie, there is something I discovered recently and I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Hey, whatever you’re going through, we can deal with it together. Is Angel Dust not being polite? Alastor giving you shit?”

“No, it’s not that.” She turned to the window and stared for a brief moment. Whatever needed to be said, they had all the time waiting on Sir Pentious’s ship. Then the girl returned her gaze to the royal. “Tony said that I’m not a sinner.”

Charlie was perplexed by the statement but clearly her ears were hearing something different. “What?”

“He said that I’m here because of a bureaucratic mishap and that I’m actually a Saved.”

“When did he tell you this?” As soon as her mind registered the revelation, she wanted to know how recent this news was.

Vaggie leaned her back against the window and crossed her arms. “After we had a meeting with Carmilla. He talked to me about it on the way home.”

“Just now? I know we haven’t known each other for long but why didn’t he mention that?”

“He kept it a secret because if word spreads around that I’m not a Sinner, I get to go to Heaven but won’t be able to stay with you.”