Chapter Text
Alastor POV
Only a few days had passed since Vox’s pathetic attempt to conquer the heavens.
Hell, as always, kept moving.
My wounds had healed completely. Not a single scar remained, no visible trace of the chaos that had stained the skies of the Pride Ring during that broadcasted spectacle. Still, it would be foolish to assume everything had returned to normal so quickly.
Hell never forgets.
And yet, I could not deny that I had benefited from the disaster.
Being freed from my contract with Rosie was… convenient.
Getting rid of Vox for at least a decade was, frankly, a gift.
A fair exchange.
A perfect win–win.
Without the contract, my powers had shifted slightly. Not diminished-merely altered. An absence where pressure once lived, like a limb that had been bound for centuries and suddenly released.
Uncomfortable.
Fortunately, the battle itself more than compensated.
Vox, in his infinite stupidity, couldn’t resist broadcasting everything. Every strike. Every scream. Every note of my voice echoing across infernal airwaves.
Everyone saw it.
Everyone heard me.
Everyone remembered.
And in Hell, attention is power.
I felt it settle into my bones-new influence, new reach. My shadows answered faster. My smile came easier. My name climbed the hierarchy of overlords once more, whispered with renewed interest.
I was free now.
Free to move.
Free to act.
Free to claim.
Ah… the possibilities made my mind hum.
I longed to return to the radio, to a program worthy of Hell itself. A true performance. I could already hear it- the crackling waves, distorted voices bleeding into screams~
Staying at the hotel had been an easy decision. I hadn’t lied to Charlie when I said I was seeking entertainment. In truth, I was witnessing something unprecedented.
Sinners being redeemed.
What had once been a laughable fantasy was now an uncomfortable reality.
With Vox removed from the board and sinners flocking to the hotel in droves, the advantage was obvious. And with me being the only entertainment overlord openly residing here, curiosity gravitated toward me naturally.
Everyone wanted to know how this story would end.
And I… would be the one to narrate it.
This event would serve as the perfect catalyst to expand my influence, widen my reach, and ensure no one forgot who controlled the narrative.
What happened seven years ago would be nothing compared to what was coming.
And with nothing standing in my way…
I would become the most powerful sinner in the Pride Ring.
But why stop there?
No…
My ambitions had never been modest~
My sights were set higher.
I would become the most powerful sinner in all of Hell’s history.
That title belonged to one individual.
Or rather… someone who had been absent far too long.
Queen Lilith.
The queen’s rise had always intrigued me. According to the oldest records, only two had fallen: the king and the queen.
Hell had been empty when they arrived.
Lucifer’s power made sense. He had been a seraph—the highest rank of angels, God’s favored creation. His strength was justified.
Lilith’s was not.
How did a human soul rise to such dominance in a barren realm?
Hell’s rules were simple: deals, favors, contracts, souls.
A brutal system. Elegant in its cruelty.
But in the beginning, there were only two of them.
The conclusion was inevitable.
When the first sinners arrived, Lucifer must have realized the true nature of his punishment: a fallen angel with immeasurable power… and a human with none.
So they did the only sensible thing.
They made a deal.
The king granted power.
And the queen protects them both
The first contract in Hell…
It astonished me that no one else had connected the dots. Perhaps because the royal punishment was never fully disclosed. Or perhaps because those who learned the truth did not survive long enough to share it.
Lucifer was never good at keeping secrets. Emotional. Impulsive. Careless, even.
And yet… this one endured for centuries.
The simplest explanation was also the most unsettling.
Those who got too close were silenced…
The queen handled them.
Which meant they were both clever. Calculated. Dangerous…
Then came a small piece of information- courtesy of Charlie.
She had once mentioned, almost offhandedly, that she rarely visited the Pride Ring as a child. That the palace itself stood beyond its borders.
So… what changed?
The more I examined the pattern, the clearer it became. Whenever the royal family appeared in Pride, they did so together.
Until they didn’t.
There came a precise point when the queen began appearing alone. More frequently. More publicly.
Until Lucifer vanished from the public eye entirely.
My initial theory had been simple: after Charlie’s birth, the king stayed behind to raise her while the queen ruled Hell.
But what if that had merely been an excuse?
If Lilith wanted popularity, she couldn’t roam the streets slaughtering sinners. And entrusting the secret to others had already proven disastrous.
Which led me to the question that stole sleep from my nights:
Why did the queen want to rule?
If the deal already granted her power… what more did she desire?
By Hell’s cruel sense of irony, the answer lived within this very hotel.
Which brought me to my second problem.
Since redemption became a possibility, the hotel had grown crowded. And since whispers of the king’s secret began to circulate…
Lucifer was surrounded.
I stood on the second-floor balcony, watching from above as sinners took turns approaching him.
They leaned too close.
Spoke too freely.
Laughed as though they were entitled to his attention.
My fingers tightened around the railing until the wood creaked beneath my grip.
Lucifer endured it with visible restraint- posture rigid, wings tucked tightly against his back. He tolerated them.
That should have been enough.
And yet… it wasn’t.
A low growl slipped from my throat before I could stop it.
This was happening more often.
He had never allowed sinners this close before. Never indulged their curiosity, their familiarity.
And the realization struck sharper than expected:
They were seeing him like this.
Exposed. Unarmed. Stripped of the distance he once commanded effortlessly.
I didn’t like it.
Not because I cared.
But because some things, once revealed, could never be taken back.
When an opening finally appeared, I adjusted my coat and stepped forward, my pace deliberate.
“Your Majes—”
The word barely left my mouth before a sinner shoved past me, nearly colliding with my shoulder as he rushed toward Lucifer.
Something snapped.
A sharp, violent irritation flared in my chest. My shadows twitched at my feet in response.
Lucifer had no reason to entertain this.
No reason to stand there answering questions like some novelty attraction.
That was my conversation to interrupt.
The thought stopped me cold.
…My conversation?
Since when did I think of it that way?
Lucifer’s smile tightened. He murmured a brief response, just enough to dismiss the sinner.
And then—
Poof.
He vanished, leaving a duck behind.
A laugh escaped me—too sharp. Too thin.
It seems that the king wanted to play hide and seek.
And yet, my gaze lingered on the empty space he’d occupied moments ago.
He hadn’t even looked back.
The irritation deepened.
If he was going to disappear, he could have at least acknowledged me first.
The realization annoyed me even more.
I had been expecting it.
As the days passed, Lucifer began to vanish more frequently.
First from the hallways.
Then from meals.
Then… entirely.
Three days later.
Out of habit, I prepared a plate for him when cooking for the staff. I told myself it was routine. Efficiency.
Three times in a row, the plate remained untouched.
My gaze lingered on it longer than necessary.
I didn’t like the idea of him not eating.
Not because it concerned me.
But because it meant he was retreating further—
—and I wasn’t there to see it.
On the fourth day, my patience wore thin.
My gaze shifted toward the hotel’s reception.
Charlie stood behind the counter, radiant as ever, waving goodbye to a newly arrived sinner. Her enthusiasm was… contagious.
Irritatingly so.
The lobby buzzed with motion/luggage being dragged across the floor, overlapping murmurs, nervous laughter. The hotel pulsed with life.
Too much life.
I observed the scene for a few seconds longer than necessary, assessing. Charlie was the most logical point of entry. If anyone knew something—whether intentionally or not—it would be her.
I decided not to waste more time.
I emerged from the shadows at her side with the ease of someone who had always been there.
“Oh, Charlie~” I chimed pleasantly.
She startled, hand flying to her chest.
“Alastor!” she exclaimed before smiling brightly”Look at all this! We’re running out of rooms!”
She bounced on her heels, pointing toward the key board. The sparkle in her eyes was almost offensive.
“How absolutely marvelous” I replied smoothly, adjusting my gloves. “Success is always worth celebrating”
My gaze swept the lobby out of habit.
Lucifer was not there.
I suppressed a scowl.
“Charlie” I continued, lowering my voice just slightly “I had a small question. Do you happen to know if His Majesty will be joining us for dinner tonight?”
I tilted my head, light and casual.
“I do hate wasting food”
Charlie blinked.
She actually blinked, as if the question took a moment to register.
“My dad…?” she murmured “Now that you mention it…”
Her expression turned thoughtful. She glanced toward the hallways, then the stairs, as if expecting him to materialize out of thin air.
“I think it’s been several days since I last saw him”
Several days…
My fingers twitched beneath my gloves.
Before I could press further, footsteps approached from a side corridor. Vaggie appeared escorting another sinner—far too enthusiastic for his own good.
“Another one?” Charlie squealed instantly, forgetting our conversation entirely.
“That’s right” Vaggie replied with a tired smile.
Charlie let out a delighted little shriek.
“I’m Charlie! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! You’re going to love it here!”
She handed over a key and immediately launched into rules, schedules, possibilities. Her attention was gone.
A sharp irritation pricked at my patience.
“Charlie” I insisted, a slight frown forming “Your father?”
“I’m busy, Alastor” she said without looking at me “We’ll talk later, okay?”
Later.
The word tasted bitter.
I stepped back, watching the scene unfold. Sinners coming and going. Voices overlapping. Expectations filling the air.
And no sign of the king.
As if he had never been there at all.
Once the sinner departed, Vaggie turned toward me. She studied me for a moment longer than necessary.
Then she sighed.
“If you’re that worried about the king” she said “you should go check on him”
I looked at her.
Worried?
The word lodged itself in my chest like a splinter.
“I’m not” I replied immediately, my smile tight “Don’t confuse curiosity with interest, my dear”
Vaggie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
“Uh-huh.”
I said nothing more.
Instead, I vanished into the shadows, leaving behind the noise of the lobby, the clinking keys, the voices—
-and that irritating pressure in my chest that refused to dissipate.
————————
The shadows swallowed me whole, muting the lobby’s noise as if it had never existed. The hotel felt quiet again-too quiet.
For the first time since I’d taken residence there… uncomfortable.
I reappeared in one of the upper hallways, far from reception, far from Charlie, far from prying eyes. I walked without a destination, letting the echo of my steps set the rhythm of my thoughts.
Worried?
I repeated the word internally, mocking.
What a ridiculous notion.
I wasn’t worried. Lucifer was the King of Hell. If anyone could withstand scrutiny and pressure, it was him. If he had chosen seclusion, it was by his own will—not because he needed someone searching for him.
And yet…
My steps carried me—without conscious intent—toward the wing where the private rooms were located. I stopped short of the stairs, frowning when I noticed.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
Since when did his absence concern me this much?
Before all this, our interactions had been simple. Predictable.
Competition. Provocation. Pride.
Lucifer always seemed ready to clash with me, as though my mere presence was an invitation to war. Sharp words. Tight smiles. Glances heavy with challenge.
And I…
I enjoyed every second of it…
I enjoyed pushing him. Making him react. Testing how far he would go. It was an elegant, dangerous, delicious game.
Now there was nothing.
No arguments.
No glances.
No tension keeping me alert.
Only closed doors.
Something twisted in my chest—warm and unpleasant all at once. Not quite anger. Not mere frustration.
Absence.
I leaned against the wall, arms crossing over my chest. My fingers tapped an irregular rhythm against my sleeve, betraying an unease I refused to acknowledge.
“Absurd…” I muttered.
I had no right to demand his attention. Lucifer owed me nothing.
And yet, the thought of him hiding away while other sinners roamed the hotel—occupying spaces that once—
That once had been mine—
My thoughts halted.
Mine.
I narrowed my eyes.
There it was.
The problem wasn’t that Lucifer had withdrawn.
It was that others had been too close.
Common sinners. Curious. Ignorant.
Touching. Talking. Questioning.
Demanding.
My fangs pressed against the inside of my lips.
Lucifer tolerated them only for Charlie’s sake. Always had. Before, none would have dared approach him without explicit invitation.
Now they did so shamelessly—as if the king were just another attraction.
And that…
That irritated me in a way I could not justify.
I resumed walking, this time with firmer steps, deliberately avoiding the door I knew led to his room.
No.
I wasn’t going to barge in like some brute.
Not yet.
I exhaled sharply.
With my elevated status, sinners had begun avoiding me again. They lowered their gazes, stepped aside, pretended not to see me.
Under normal circumstances, that would have been ideal.
But now…
Now the hotel felt strangely empty.
No one challenged me.
No one provoked me.
No one returned the fire.
Lucifer always did.
Always…
And with that thought, the sensation in my chest stirred again—stronger, sharper.
I didn’t know what it was.
And that infuriated me.
I wasn’t inexperienced with emotions- others’, at least. I had manipulated them, provoked them, shattered them for decades. I knew fear, desire, rage, ambition.
But this…
This was different.
I wouldn’t discuss it with anyone in the hotel. Charlie was an open book, Vaggie far too perceptive, and the rest couldn’t keep a secret to save their lives.
I needed someone who understood nuance.
Someone unshockable.
Someone who could read between the lines.
Rosie…
The thought alone eased my expression slightly.
Rosie had always possessed a particular talent for seeing beyond words-detecting what one tried to hide even from oneself. And though we were no longer bound by contract, our relationship had evolved over the years.
She remained one of the few souls in Hell I trusted.
Our last meeting hadn’t ended particularly well… but that was nothing a proper gesture couldn’t mend. Rosie appreciated apologies when they were presented correctly.
And I knew exactly how to present them.
A visit to Cannibal Town would do me good. A change of scenery. A chance to clear my head. To remember who I was and what I wanted.
Yes.
That was it.
I straightened, adjusting my suit with precise movements—as though ordering my thoughts along with it.
I would speak to Rosie.
I would understand this persistent discomfort.
I would name this strange feeling… and tear it out by the root if necessary.
After all…
If anyone understood dangerous deals, emotions masquerading as something else, and inconvenient truths-
It was her.
And for the first time since the king had vanished from my sight, a slow, razor-edged smile spread across my face.