Chapter 4 - Chapter 3: Hazbin Hotel Pilot Part 3

[The camera pans out from a nearby screen, focusing on two demons, Charlie Morningstar and her girlfriend, Vaggie as she fixes Charlie's bow.]

["OK, you remember what to say?" The one in white asked after fixing the bow tie.]

[The blonde demon took a deep breath and confidently said, "Yes! Let's do this!"]

["Just look at me, and I'll mouth it to you." The one in white said in a serious tone as she put her hand on the blonde making her sigh.]

["Come on, Vaggie! I know what to say." The blonde said as she bent backwards with another sigh and went to the snack table, "I just feel like we need to- I don't know, make things sound more exciting." She picked up a doughnut from the table and tossed it aside.]

{Earth}

Some of the human audience began to perk up, their expressions lighting with recognition, "Hey, isn't that the demon girl from earlier?" Someone said, nudging the person next to them, "Didn't that news demon lady mention she's the head honcho's daughter?"

Another bystander crossed her arms and looked at the screen skeptically, "Honestly, I was expecting more... blood and torture. You know, the usual horror stories we were told. But this?" She gestured at the oddly mundane scene, "It just feels like a rundown bad neighborhood. Still awful, don't get me wrong, it's just... not as awful as I imagined."

A man scratched his head thoughtfully as he chimed in,

"Wait, by 'Head Honcho,' do they mean Satan or Lucifer? I've heard people use both names like they're the same guy... but some say they're completely different."

This sparked a small debate among the gathering crowd, each person offering different opinions on who truly ruled over Hell.

America

Marcy's eyes sparkled with excitement as she sat glued to the television screen, her little hands clutching the edge of the couch.

"Ooh, Mommy, did you see that?!" she gasped, pointing eagerly at the screen, "She's so pretty! She looks just like a real princess!"

Martha forced a tight, uneasy smile, glancing nervously at the screen,

"That's... wonderful, sweetie," She said, her voice was strained, as if unsure whether admiration was the right reaction to have.

Meanwhile, James was practically dripping sweat. His eyes were locked onto the television, where the blonde figure, radiant yet somehow terrifying, smiled at the white haired demon.

"Holy crap," He muttered under his breath, barely able to process what he was seeing. "Is she really... the Princess of Hell?"

{Hell}

Hazbin Hotel:

"Ah, the more things change, the more they stay the same! Still charmingly chaotic, dear Charlie. Though I must say, tossing pastries is a cardinal sin in my book. Wasteful!" Alastor said as he adjusted his cane.

Angel Dust let out a cackle, "Seriously?! I was out there fighting my ass off and you two were busy doing this?! Thought we were past the 'butterflies and stage fright' part of this gig, princess!"

Charlie's smile strained a bit, remembering what exactly had happened that day, "W-well I was nervous and I thought that maybe I'll screw it all up."

"Yeah, and it's all thanks to you Angel Dust." Vaggie grumbled, still feeling sour at what had transpired that day.

"Oh come on! How am I supposed to know that we were being watched! Besides I saved my best friend from getting injured, isn't that a 'Redeeming Quality?' "Angel finger quoted the last two words, while rolling his eyes.

Vaggie facepalmed herself, "We are not going to talk about this right now."

Lucifer's Palace:

Lucifer just sat there in stunned silence, his golden eyes fixed on the screen as his face looked more raw and vulnerable than ever before.

There, right before him, was Charlie, no longer the bright-eyed little girl clinging to his coattails, but a young woman standing tall, determined, and full of dreams he once mocked as naïve.

"Charlie..." He breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. "Look at you... all grown up now..."

He paused, swallowing thickly, unable to tear his gaze away,

"I... I really don't know what to say."

The Kitsuna beside him looked at him with disbelief before it sighed with disapproval as its tail flickered impatiently.

{Heaven}

Lilith sat in her sunlounger, staring at the dim glow of the screen as her hands clasped delicately in her lap, silent for what felt like an eternity.

There she was, Charlie Morningstar, her daughter, the precious girl she had left behind for seven long years in search of a break, a reprieve from the endless burdens of Hell.

A soft, wistful laugh escaped Lilith's lips, breaking the heavy stillness.

"Oh, darling..." She murmured, a fond smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Still so much spirit... so much energy over the smallest things."

She watched as Charlie flopped backwards with dramatic flair, then bounced towards the snack table,

Lilith's smile widened a little, touched by a bittersweet nostalgia, "She gets that from me," She said lightly, casting a sideways glance at the Kitsune perched beside her, "The dramatics... and the sweet tooth."

The small yellow creature began waving its arms urgently, trying to get her attention. It pointed first at Lilith, then at Charlie on the screen, then back again in an insistent motion.

Lilith's smile faltered slightly as she stared at the creature, realization slowly dawned on her, her expression softened with guilt as she exhaled a long, heavy breath,

"...No," She said quietly, her voice almost breaking, "I can't go back down there... not yet."

["Oooh!" She gasped as she suddenly perked up, "What if I si-"]

["Sing a song about it?" Vaggie cut her off.]

["You knew I was going to say that." Charlie said with a smile as she poked Vaggie's nose.]

["Because I know you," Vaggie replied, adjusting the bow tie again, "But, please don't sing. This is serious."]

["Well, you know. I'm better at expressing myself and my goals through song!" Charlie added, climbing up onto the table as two small goat-like demons wearing suits, Razzle and Dazzle were munching doughnuts and looked at the blonde.]

{Earth}

California

The humans in the bar exchanged bewildered glances, a ripple of confusion and mild disappointment passing through the crowd. This... this cheerful, bouncy young woman, was supposed to be the daughter of The Devil? The princess of the darkest, most depraved realm in existence? It just didn't add up.

"She was planning to sing?" One of the Jocks muttered, a bewildered frown creasing his forehead, "The princess of Hell sings?" His tone was dripping with disbelief, as if the concept itself were somehow offensive.

His friend shrugged casually,

"I mean, she's the same broad who was singin' at the start, right?" He pointed out, jabbing a thumb toward the screen, "Ain't that much of a surprise if you think about it."

"I guess..." He grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared back at the screen, "Still feels... weird. Y'know? You expect someone like her to be breathing fire or throwing curses, not... not handing out show tunes."

Even Lucas was curious about her decision to sing to those demons, "This ain't some fucking Disney movie, just what is she thinking?"

Around hin, the murmurs grew, some were curious, some were amused, and others were just plain confused, as the humans tried to reconcile the image of Hell's heir with the smiling, hopeful young demon they saw before them.

{Heaven}

Exterminator Angel Bunkers:

Every Exorcist's eyes snapped toward the screen the instant she appeared, Vaggie.

Once hailed as Heaven's proud second-in-command.

Now nothing more than a stain on their history.

The second fallen angel.

The betrayer.

Soon enough, the room erupted into chaos.

"That bitch!" One Exorcist bellowed, her voice raw with rage, "She's hooking up with Lucifer's spawn now!"

A chorus of boos and furious shouts filled the hall, Exorcists slammed their fists against tables, weapons clattered to the ground, and insults poured from their mouths like venom.

The Kitsunas nearby flinched and quickly clapped their paws over their ears, desperate to muffle the avalanche of foul language that now polluted the air.

"W-What the...?" An Exorcist stammered, her eyes widened with disbelief, "She... How is she still alive?! And with the Princess of Hell?!"

"She must've whored herself to those demons! That filthy traitorous skank!" A blonde Exorcist snarled through gritted teeth.

The frenzy only grew worse, as anger and confusion collided into a thunderous storm.

"Ladies..." Viola said carefully, "You don't think that they're actually dating right?"

Heavy silence washed over the room.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

The idea that Vaggie, once Heaven's golden warrior, had not only betrayed them but given her heart to the Princess of Hell on the same day that they cast her out right... it was too much for even the most hardened warriors to process this information.

It had to be a coincidence.

It had to be some ploy.

Because otherwise...

the betrayal cut even deeper than any of them had dared to imagine.

["But life isn't a musical, hon." Vaggie pointed out while putting her hands on her hips.]

["Fine, but I have these other great ideas of what to say." Charlie started bouncing as she pulled out a sheet of paper from her jacket and holding it up for Vaggie to see, "The highlighted bits are the best parts!"]

["Uh, it's all highlighted." Vaggie pointed out while looking at the notes, "Is this a drawing?"]

["Yes!" Charlie exclaimed, standing next to Vaggie and pointed to a drawing of a rainbow, "That's the happy ending see! Where everyone is smiling and happy in heaven!"]

Promenade:

Every single Heavenborn and Winner stood frozen in collective bewilderment. On one hand, it was undeniably shocking to see the literal Princess of Hell broadcast on the grand screen, but on the other... confusion clouded their minds.

What exactly was she planning when she spoke so cheerfully about, "Everyone smiling and happy in Heaven"

"Wait... what did she mean by that?" A sheep cherub murmured from the crowd.

"She... she must have good intentions, right? I mean, if she wants everyone to smile here..." Her friend added with uncertainty in their tone.

"This is all so very confusing," A winner said, rubbing his temples as if trying to force the puzzle pieces together.

Like the audience, both Emily and Saint Peter have no idea as to what she was saying.

"Um... Emily," Saint Peter said, scratching the back of his head, "What exactly did she mean by that last part?"

"I... I honestly don't know," Emily replied, shaking her head slowly.

Her gaze drifted back to the screen where Charlie, full of hope and sunshine, practically radiated innocence.

It was unsettling... not in a bad way, but in a way that made Emily question everything she thought she knew about Hell.

For a long moment, the confusion hung heavy until a soft, amused chuckle broke the silence.

All heads turned toward the source as Jesus chuckled with amusement, his expression gentle and full of quiet mirth.

"Ah, Charlie," He said warmly, his voice spreading across the entire promenade, "Ever the spirited one. I truly hope her plan succeeds."

Emily and Saint Peter blinked in confusion, exchanging a look before Emily cautiously stepped forward,

"Um... Uncle Jesus?" She asked hesitantly, "What do you mean by 'Plan'? Is she... is she trying to help the demons down there?"

Jesus smiled a little, his eyes shining with a hint of knowing kindness,

"Something like that," He said cryptically, "But I suggest you all keep watching. I think... you'll find her idea quite noble."

["I don't think it's that simple." Vaggie said, pinching the bridge of her nose as she handed the paper back, "Just please follow the talking points we went over. And. Do. Not. Sing!" She emphasized as she grabbed Charlie's shoulders to face her.]

["Okay, fiiiine." Charlie sighed as she walked towards the set, "I'll just have to rely on impeccable improv skills!" She said in a faux British Accent and saluted at Vaggie.]

["Hiii! I'm Charlie." She introduced herself as she tried to go for a handshake.]

["Katie Killjoy." Katie said in a bored tone and crushed the cigarette in her hand and blew out the smoke, "I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but that would be a lie." She said as she tossed the cigarette away and gestured to Charlie's hand, "You can put that away. I don't touch the gays. I have standards!"]

{Earth}

United States of America

The old man from earlier narrowed his eyes in irritation as Katie Killjoy's face lit up the screen. Her smug smirk and grating voice hit his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

"Ah, there's the Katie I remember," He muttered bitterly, spitting onto the sidewalk, his tone was laced with contempt, "No wonder she ended up in Hell. Can't say I'm surprised."

Around him, the crowd stirred with a similar distaste. Some were annoyed, while others were outright disgusted. Katie's toxic confidence rubbed them the wrong way, even now.

"Oh wow. She's definitely a total Karen," Thomas said flatly, drawing a few quiet chuckles from his friend.

Paris

In the heart of Paris, nestled within the elegant Le Tout-Paris restaurant, the atmosphere had been perfect. Soft jazz played in the background, candlelight flickered on their table, and the Eiffel Tower shimmered just beyond the window.

Aurélie and Marinette sat close together, glasses of wine half-full, hands occasionally brushing across the white linen tablecloth. Their date had been nothing short of magical... until those screens appeared.

Marinette blinked at the sight of Katie Killjoy's smug, venom-laced commentary, then narrowed her eyes.

"Oh mon Dieu... cette Katie est une vraie garce, n'est-ce pas?" (Oh my God...that Katie is a real bitch, isn't she?) She muttered in an unimpressed tone.

Aurélie let out a soft laugh, "Sérieusement. On dirait qu'elle est le genre de personne qui discute avec le service client pour le plaisir." (Seriously. She seems like the kind of person who argues with customer service for fun.)

Then, her eyes shifted to the two demon women onscreen, Charlie, the bubbly, idealistic Princess of Hell, and the stern, no-nonsense Vaggie at her side, "...Hé, regardez-les." (...Hey, look at them.) Aurélie said, nodding toward the screen, "Tu crois que ces deux-là sont ensemble? Comme nous?" (Do you think those two are together? Like us?)

Marinette studied the way Vaggie

talked to Charlie in a concerned tone, the soft glances they shared before Charlie went towards the set.

"Peut-être... Ils font comme si c'était normal. D'après ce qu'ils disent, on dirait que les relations entre personnes de même sexe sont plutôt normales là-bas." (Maybe... They act like it's normal. From what they're saying, it sounds like same-gender relationships are pretty normal down there.)

Aurélie nodded thoughtfully, "C'est ironique, n'est-ce pas ? Malgré toute la peur et le feu qu'on nous a appris à associer à l'Enfer, il semblerait qu'ils comprennent mieux l'amour que certains d'ici-haut." (It's ironic, isn't it? Despite all the fear and fire we've been taught to associate with Hell, it seems they understand love better than some up here.)

Marinette smiled faintly and reached across the table, intertwining her fingers with Aurélie's, "Eh bien, si deux démons peuvent être aussi ouverts sur leur amour devant le monde entier..."

(Well, if two demons can be that open about loving each other in front of the whole world...) She said in a warm tone, "Il est peut-être temps que davantage de gens ici arrêtent d'avoir peur de faire la même chose." (Maybe it's time more people up here stopped being afraid to do the same.)

Aurélie gave her a soft look and answered, "Nous ne sommes pas en enfer, mais j'ai déjà l'impression d'être au paradis avec toi." (We're not in Hell, but I already feel like I'm in heaven with you.)

Marinette laughed brightly, her cheeks flushed as she kissed Aurélie on the cheek, "Oh, espèce d'idiot." (Oh, you sap)

{Hell}

666 News Studio:

Back in the 666 News Studio, Katie Killjoy leaned back in her chair as she watched the livestreaming broadcast that featured her. Her red lips curled into a self-satisfied grin as she basked in the screen time.

"Well, at least someone knows how to showcase real talent." She purred in satisfaction.

She was obviously utterly oblivious to the public's disdain of her.

Her co-anchor, Tom Trench, sat stiffly beside her. He raised a tentative finger, thought about speaking, and then slowly lowered it with a sigh.

He valued his safety, and sanity, too much to start anything.

"Yeah... sure, Katie," He said with the tone of a man who'd long since given up on arguing.

Hazbin Hotel:

"She ain't gettin' anywhere with that attitude," Angel Dust chuckled with amusement, "Most of Hell's into all kinds of 'deviant' shit. If anything, she's the weird one down here."

Charlie let out an exasperated huff, as her fingers laced with Vaggie's, "Honestly, I'll never understand why humans get so worked up over who people love,"She said firmly. "Down here, relationships are way more fluid. A huge chunk of Hellborns are bisexual, and a ton more fall under what you guys would call the LGBTQ spectrum."

Angel blinked in confusion, genuinely caught off guard by this information, "Wait, really? That many?"

Charlie nodded, "Yes. The whole 'homosexuality is a sin' thing? That's a human idea. Up there, they use it to control people. Down here... people are who they are. You don't end up in Hell because of who you love... you end up here for the choices you make. And in a twisted way, Hell's more progressive about gender and sexuality than most human societies ever were."

Vaggie gave her hand a gentle squeeze, nodding in agreement.

Angel leaned back again, letting the idea sink in, "...Damn," He muttered, "Never thought I'd say this, but... Hell's got a one up on the living."

["Yeah? How's uh... how's that working out for ya?" Charlie commented as she turned to look at the "Hell's #1 News" neon sign behind her.]

["Look, my time is money. So, I'll keep this short." Katie said as she proceeded to poke Charlie's chest and nose, "You're not here because we wanted you here. You're here because Jeffrey couldn't make it for his cannibal cooking segment.]

[A billboard of Jeffrey's cannibalism cooking show titled "It's Dahm Good!" can be seen in the background.]

{Earth}

Pennsylvania

In a brightly lit lecture hall at The Pennsylvania State University, the usual hum of post-lecture chatter died the moment the screens descended. Students froze mid-conversation, eyes fixed on the surreal scene playing out live from Hell.

When the billboard for "It's Dahm Good!" flashed across the screen, a collective gasp rippled through the classroom.

Bailey, a sharp-minded forensics major, practically fell off his chair. His face twisted in disgust, as a wave of nausea hit him harder than any crime scene study.

"Are you kidding me? That fucker's still down there?!" He spat out, gripping the edge of the desk as if to steady himself, "Jesus Christ... he's cooking?! On television?!"

One of his classmates beside him turned pale, their mouth agape in horror, "That's Jeffrey Dahmer, right? The cannibal guy from Wisconsin?"

"Yes, and he's being treated like the Gordon Ramsay of Hell!" Bailey snapped while shaking his head, "Okay. New plan, if any of us die and end up down there, we're grabbing the first blunt object we find and bash his skull in!"

His friend blinked at him and said, "But... you don't even like violence."

"I don't," Bailey muttered, clenching his jaw, "But that sick son of a bitch? I'd make an exception."

Just one hallway over, a history class had gone dead silent ironically, just as the professor had been lecturing on World War II.

One of the students, Sam, sat stiffly in his seat, eyes locked on the screen, his expression drained of all colors.

"If he's down there," He muttered, his voice was dry and hoarse, "Who's to say... Hitler isn't?"

The thought hung in the air like smoke after a fire.

The student next to him, Rachel, shivered in fear, "God, don't even say that. I... please no."

Sam nodded slowly, his voice quiet, and almost pleading, "I'm Jewish. I've always joked about going to Hell for dumb stuff, but... I don't want to run into literal monsters down there."

Rachel tried to reassure him, though her voice trembled, "No, no... remember what that newscaster demon said? About exterminations and cleansings or whatever? There's no way they'd let someone like Hitler just wander around freely."

Sam exhaled slightly, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. "Right, yeah. You're probably right. I mean... God. That was terrifying."

One of their classmates whispered from behind them, "This isn't just some show... It's a look into the real afterlife. The actual underworld."

Another student added, "And if people like Dahmer are down there making shows... what else is Hell hiding?"

The room fell quiet again, the weight of that thought settling in with cold finality.

Greece

As the day went on and the footage from the afterlife showed no signs of stopping, universities across the nation began holding emergency meetings, classroom debates, and even impromptu forums. The reactions were mixed with equal parts academic curiosity and existential panic.

Dr. Elaine Marston, a seasoned professor of Theology and Religious Studies, stood in front of a packed lecture hall, the livestream playing on the projector behind her. She held her glasses in one hand, the other clenched into a fist at her side.

"Αυτό αλλάζει τα πάντα..." (This changes everything...) She said, her voice was firm but strained, "Έχουμε συζητήσει για αυτό το θέμα για αιώνες για το τι μπορεί να είναι η Κόλαση... αλλά τώρα μας κοιτάζει κατάματα. Και το ότι οι δαίμονες έχουν μιντιακή υποδομή και εκπομπές μαγειρικής; Αυτό ανατρέπει κάθε θεολογικό πλαίσιο που έχουμε." (We've debated on this topic for centuries about what Hell might be... but now it's staring us in the face. And the fact that demons have media infrastructure and cooking shows? That overturns every theological framework we have.)

A student raised their hand, their voice spoke with uncertainty, "Δρ Marston, τι σημαίνει αυτό για τις... θρησκείες; Πεποιθήσεις μετά τη ζωή?" (Dr. Marston, what does this mean for... religions? Afterlife beliefs?)

She looked them in the eye, as a deep frown creased her brow, "Σημαίνει ότι κάνουμε λάθος, τουλάχιστον εν μέρει. Και πρέπει να αρχίσουμε να αναρωτιόμαστε, τι μας έλειψε; Τι άλλο έχουμε παρεξηγήσει?" (It means that we're wrong, at least, partially. And we need to start asking ourselves, what did we miss? What else have we misunderstood?)

Across campus, Professor Daniel Hogue, a psychology and criminal behavior expert, paused his seminar on psychopathy to address the footage of Dahmer.

"Αν ο Τζέφρι Ντάμερ φιλοξενεί μια εκπομπή στην Κόλαση..." (If Jeffrey Dahmer is hosting a show in Hell...) He began grimly, "Τότε αυτό επιβεβαιώνει αυτό που πάντα υποψιαζόμασταν, το μυαλό δεν επανέρχεται μετά το θάνατο. Αυτοί οι άνθρωποι παραμένουν αυτοί που ήταν... ή γίνονται ακόμα χειρότεροι." (Then that confirms what we've always suspected, the mind doesn't reset after death. These people remain who they were... or get even worse.)

One student asked, "Λοιπόν... οι κατά συρροή δολοφόνοι ανταμείβονται?" (So... do serial killers get rewarded?)

"Οχι," (No) Hogue replied, his tone laced with suppressed frustration, "Χρησιμοποιούνται. Εκμεταλλεύονται για διασκέδαση, ίσως. Σαν στριμμένα εκθέματα ζωολογικού κήπου." (They're used. Exploited for entertainment, maybe. Like twisted zoo exhibits.)

He glanced at the screen and said, "Αλλά μην κάνετε λάθος, είναι ακόμα τέρατα... και στην κόλαση, αυτή είναι η παιδική τους χαρά." (But make no mistake, they're still monsters... and in Hell, that is their playground.)

["I'm too rich, and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tux wearing demon "princess" wants to advertise" Katie told Charlie doing the air quotes on the word princess.]

[Tom was seen shaking his head at Katie.]

["You might be some royal big shot, but that doesn't mean shit to me." She replied as she fluffed her hair, "I'm too rich and too influential to give a flying fuck about what some tux-wearing demon 'princess' wants to advertise."]

[Tom can be seen shaking his head in disapproval as Katie boasts about her wealth and influence to Charlie.]

["But, I-" Charlie tried to interject but was interrupted by Katie poking her chest again.]

["So, don't get cute with me, honey, or I will fucking bury you!" She threatened as the sound of bones crunching can be heard.]

["And we're live!" A news staff announced.]

[Killjoy went straight back to her desk so fast that her neck broke until she fixed her head, "Welcome back, so Charlotte."]

India

Inside a modern university lab, several biology majors and professors were huddled around a projector screen, meant for a cellular biology lecture, but now it played something far stranger as Katie Killjoy's smug tirade blared across the speakers, her voice dripping venom as she confronted Hell's princess live on air.

The professors flinched collectively at the loud crack of her neck snapping and then nonchalantly snapping back into place.

"क्या... क्या उसने अपनी गर्दन तोड़ ली और चलती रही?" (Did... did she just break her own neck and keep going?) A professor asked, his mouth slightly agape.

Dr. Rajan, a human physiology professor, narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward, "ऐसा लगता है। बिना किसी दर्द प्रतिक्रिया के कंकाल का पुनःसंरेखण। यह जैविक रूप से असंभव है जब तक कि..." (It looks like it. Skeletal realignment without any pain response. That's biologically impossible unless...)

"जब तक कि वह पहले ही मर न गई हो? मेरा मतलब है कि हम अभी सचमुच नरक देख रहे हैं." (Unless she's already dead? I mean we are literally watching Hell right now.) A health educator professor suggested, still scribbling notes for documented use.

"बिल्कुल सही। किसी भी जीवित तंत्रिका तंत्र को बिना ढहे इतना आघात सहना नहीं चाहिए। यह ठीक नहीं हो रहा है, ऐसा लगता है कि नुकसान का एहसास ही नहीं होता। दिलचस्प। भयानक, लेकिन दिलचस्प." (Exactly. No living nervous system should allow that much trauma without collapsing. It's not healing, it's like the damage doesn't even register. Fascinating. Horrific, but fascinating.) Dr Rajan said in a fascinated tone.

One graduate student specializing in comparative anatomy shook their head in fear, "मुझे लगा कि राक्षस मानव शरीर विज्ञान के अतिरंजित संस्करण हैं... लेकिन यह अगले स्तर का है। हम एक ऐसे प्राणी को देख रहे हैं जो मरणोपरांत लचीलेपन के साथ भी समाचार प्रसारण प्रोटोकॉल का पालन कर रहा है। किसी मुड़ी हुई कठपुतली की तरह." (I thought demons were just exaggerated versions of human physiology... but this is next-level. We're watching a being with post-mortem flexibility still following a news broadcast protocol. Like some twisted marionette.)

"मेरा मतलब है, उसकी गर्दन से ऐसी आवाज़ आ रही थी जैसे कोई अखरोट कुचल रहा हो." (I mean, her neck just sounded like someone crushing walnuts.) Another muttered, laughing in an exaggerated tone, "और वह वापस प्रसारण मोड में चली गई जैसे कि कुछ भी नहीं था। उसकी शारीरिक भाषा ने खुद को रीसेट कर लिया। क्या यह मांसपेशियों की याददाश्त है? या किसी तरह का न्यूरोलॉजिकल ओवरराइड?" (And she went right back into broadcast mode like it was nothing. Her body language reset itself. Is that muscle memory? Or some kind of neurological override?)

The room fell into a strange silence for a moment as Katie's shrill voice returned, mocking Charlie with air quotes and empty threats.

A molecular biologist sighed deeply, "हे भगवान, मृत्यु में भी अहंकार जीवित रहता है। वह सड़ते हुए मोर की तरह आवाज करती है." (God, even in death, the ego stays alive. She sounds like a decomposing peacock)

["It's... Charlie." She smiled nervously as a spotlight shined in her face, blinding her briefly.]

["Whatever, tell us about this new passion project. You've been insistently pestering our news station about!" Katie said with a forced smile as she tried to clench her outburst by clutching her pen tightly.]

["Well..." Charlie looked into the audience and saw Vaggie motioning for her to continue, "As most of you know, I was born here in Hell and growing up I always tried to see the good in everything around me."]

{Earth}

Canada

A scientist sat hunched at the corner of the bustling bar, eyes fixed on the glowing TV screen above the counter. The noise of chatter, clinking glasses, and the occasional curse faded into the background as he sipped a glass of water, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"This is it..." He muttered to himself, his voice low with awe. "Undeniable proof of another plane of existence. An entire ecosystem, society, sentient beings... all televised in real-time. And her, Charlie, she's definitely not human. Physiology might resemble ours, sure, but the energy, the aura... she really is a demon."

His colleague, a disheveled biologist, wasn't faring quite as well. Slumped over the bar with a half-finished bottle of wine in hand, she slurred, "Nothin' makes sense... everything's ass-backwards... T-this violates every known law... Fuckin'... demonic genetics or... evolution or who the fuck cares..." With one last hiccup, she let out a groan and faceplanted onto the counter unconscious.

The scientist gave her a sideways glance, then exhaled with a tired grimace, "And this is why I stuck with physics."

On the far end of the room, a woman watched the screen with misty eyes as Charlie's image glowed across it. Her hands clutched her purse, fingers trembling slightly.

"She was born down there?" The woman whispered in shock, "That poor girl... she acts so cheerful, so hopeful. She doesn't belong in that place."

Someone beside her scoffed, "But no matter how sweet or innocent she seems to be, heaven's gates don't open for demons. Not even if their hearts are in the right place. Especially not if she's the daughter of... him." She didn't say the name. She didn't have to.

Her voice cracked slightly, "No matter how much she tries... they'll never let her in."

[Katie is seen playing with her pen when she sees a slug moving across her desk. She clicks her pen again and stabs the slug, until the slug's blood bursts all over the desk.]

["Hell is my home, and-" Charlie's cheek was briefly covered in slug blood before she quickly wiped it off, "And you are my people. We-we just went through another extermination." She looked at Vaggie who gave her two thumbs up.]

["We lost so many souls, and- and it breaks my heart to see my people being slaughtered every year." Charlie gets up from her chair to address the audience, while Katie is seen dozing off, "And no one is even given a chance." She slammed her fist into the desk, waking up Katie. "I can't stand ideally by while the place I live is subjected to such violence."]

{Hell}

666 News Studio:

Killjoy's grin widened with sadistic satisfaction as the broadcast showed her ruthlessly stabbing the slug from earlier. Her amusement, however, died instantly when the screen cut to her drooling mid-doze during Charlie's heartfelt speech. Her eyes twitched in irritation.

"Tch! Did that fucking bastard really leave that in the edit?!" She hissed through clenched teeth, her voice rising with indignation and wounded pride. Her claws dug into the edge of her desk as she glared daggers at the screen.

Beside her, Tom slowly inched away, eyes shifting awkwardly to the ceiling. "Welp," He muttered, barely audible as he whistled a short tune and casually backed into the shadows, blending in with the background like a professional survivalist. He knew better than to stick around when Killjoy's ego took a hit.

Meanwhile, back in the depths of Hell, a group of sinners lounged near one of the communal screens. Among them sat a succubus, lazily twirling her hair as she watched the chaos unfold. "You know, she actually makes a fair point." She mused aloud.

A skeletal dog demon beside her chortled, his laughter dry and rattling. "Seriously? You're siding with that lunatic? Are your brain cells just as fried as hers?"

The succubus fluttered her wings with an indignant huff, "Oh, grow a fucking pair, bones-for-brains. I'm just saying these 'Cleansings,' or whatever the humans call them, screw everyone over. It's not just sinners that get caught in the crossfire. We hellborns don't sign up for that shit."

The dog demon blinked, somehow managing to look incredulous despite lacking eyes, "What the fuck are you on about, you feathered harlot?"

The succubus stood up, folding her arms and glaring down at him, "What I'm on about, dipshit, is that the yearly exterminations have turned the Pride Ring into a warzone. We were born here. This is our territory. But now it's overrun with rampaging angels, and desperate sinners trying not to get vaporized."

She sneered at him and continued, "We're not the ones dragging divine genocide into our streets every year. That's your lot. You immortals and your little redemption roulette are why half of us don't even bother coming to the Pride Ring anymore."

Another demon nearby muttered in agreement, "Can't even get a drink in that ring without risking a spear through the eye..."

The succubus threw her hands up in the air with indignation, "Exactly! So yeah, maybe Killjoy's a psycho with the emotional range of a chainsaw, but she's not wrong!"

The dog demon grumbled, but said nothing. For once, he didn't have a comeback.

["So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in Hell? She walks around the audience as she continues to talk, "Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change souls through... redemption?"]

[She threw her arm around one of the News Cast's staff members and continued, "Well, I think yes! So, that's what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen, I'm opening the first of its kind! A hotel that rehabilitates sinners!"]

{Earth}

A stunned silence spread across living rooms, classrooms, bars, and sidewalks around the entire world.

Redemption... a concept so elusive that, for much of human history, it seemed more like a myth than a reality. While a rare few have sought it, the vast majority of people have neither yearned for redemption nor shown remorse for their actions. Regret, if it ever emerged, was often buried beneath pride, denial, or the fear of judgment. In a world shaped by ambition, vengeance, and survival, the desire to atone, to genuinely change, has remained one of the most uncommon and misunderstood pursuits of all.

The majority of humanity, unsurprisingly, met the idea with deep skepticism, many outright rejected the notion that redemption was ever within reach. To them, people do not change, the weight of one's past is too heavy, too stained to be cleansed. Some even denied the very existence of such a possibility, convinced that atonement was a fantasy reserved for stories and sermons. And yet, among the countless doubters, there remained a rare and quiet few, those who clung to hope. They believed, however faintly, that redemption was not only possible, but perhaps, necessary, for themselves, and maybe even for the world.

New Zealand

A large crowd of civilians huddled around a display of flatscreens in a bustling electronics store. The images of Charlie's announcement played on repeat, drawing dozens into discussion.

"...She said what?" A young woman blinked in confusion, her popcorn halfway to her mouth, A hotel? In Hell? For... rehabilitation?"

A man let out a bark of laughter, "Sure, and maybe we'll put a Starbucks on the ninth circle while we're at it. You think a bunch of fucking murderers and psychos are gonna fucking line up for therapy?!"

A retired social worker leaned forward, her eyes widened in surprise, "No... no, wait. That girl.. demon or not, she's got something. If she's telling the truth... this could change everything. Actual redemption?"

"Y-yeah!" Someone stammered from the middle of the group, pushing up his glasses, "Isn't it kind of messed up that the angels just... kill everyone instead of trying to help them?"

An older, conservative woman turned toward him with a scowl, "These people are the worst of the worst! You think Hitler, Stalin, serial killers deserve mercy?! Permanent death is mercy for them!"

The man standing beside her frowned at her, "Sure. But are you seriously suggesting that someone who lies or cheats on their spouse deserves the same fate as genocidal tyrants?"

She hesitated. Her mouth opened to respond, but closed just as quickly, "... Fair enough," She finally muttered. "That point makes Heaven's system seem... flawed. Unequal."

Another voice joined in, "Exactly! And the exterminations are indiscriminate. People who make mistakes get purged, while the real monsters might slip through. How is that justice?"

"Yeah!" Someone else shouted as their fists clenched in righteous fury, "That's fucking sick! And not in the cool way, just fucked up!"

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd. For the first time, humanity was seeing what judgment looked like from the other side, and it wasn't black and white. It was gray, complicated, and far more unjust than they'd been led to believe.

Britain

"A hotel... in Hell? For redemption?" A priest whispered, his voice baffled by this revelation.

Next to him, Madeleine clutches her cross so hard that her knuckles turn white, "This is either blasphemy... or a miracle in disguise."

A younger seminarian furrowed his brow and asked, "But... Father, isn't redemption the domain of Heaven? If souls can be changed in Hell... then what does that mean for our teachings?"

Father Joseph, didn't reply, his hands clenched in his lap as his eyes narrowed, "Redemption in Hell," He said slowly, "The very concept goes against centuries of doctrine. And yet... here we are. Heaven never attempted such a thing. They chose extermination." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and spoke, "My faith... I've questioned it before. But this? This shakes the very foundation of what I've believed."

{Heaven}

Promenade

The air in the heavenly commons grew heavy with silence, the kind that settles only after a truth too profound to ignore has been spoken. Conversations froze mid-sentence, theories cut short as everyone stared at the shimmering projection of Hell's broadcast, their minds echoing with a single word:

Redemption.

The concept hung in the air like incense, familiar, yet alien when spoken in that context. Redemption... for sinners? For those who had already fallen? For souls who had earned their damnation through blood, betrayal, and blasphemy?

And yet, there she was. A hellborn, the daughter of Lucifer himself, standing on a broadcast for all the realms to see, daring to extend her hand, not to conquer, not to mock, but to help.

The angels, the heavenborn, stared in stunned confusion. From the moment they had been created, they were taught that demons are beyond salvation. Creatures of malice and chaos, devoid of light. They are the consequence of sin, not its cure.

And yet... Charlie was kind. Earnestly so. Her words weren't laced with trickery or mock humility. Her eyes flickered with genuine hope. It was disarming, disorienting.

"Do you... do you really think it's possible?" a young squirrel cherub asked softly, as his bushy tail twitched with uncertainty as he glanced at the glowing broadcast still rippling across the sky, "Redeeming demons? That's... that's never been done before."

A nearby bee cherub buzzed louder than usual, his wings fluttering in frustration, "They're demons, Pip! You know what they are! Twisted, corrupted, born of sin and chaos! You can't just wash that away with a hug and a motivational speech!"

"But isn't that what we were created to do?" Pip argued, turning toward the buzzing cherub with wide, earnest eyes, "Aren't we supposed to guide the lost? To help souls grow and change? Even the worst ones... even if it takes an eternity?"

The bee cherub scoffed, "There's a difference between a flawed soul and one forged in Hellfire. Redemption is for the redeemable. For those who want to be better. Can you honestly say those demons want too?"

A third cherub, shaped like a floating feathered rabbit, drifted down between them with a thoughtful hum, "Maybe it's not about whether they deserve saving. Maybe it's about whether someone is willing to try anyway."

The bee cherub hovered quietly, "But what if it doesn't work? What if it backfires? What if they take advantage of that kindness?" He said in a conflicted tone.

Pip looked toward the sky again, where Charlie's image flickered with hope, "Then it fails. But at least someone tried... and maybe, just maybe, that's what changes everything."

While the cherubs continued their discussion in the glowing clouds above, the winners, those blessed souls who had ascended to Heaven were another story entirely.

Some of them stood frozen, their wings slightly drooped as they tried to process it, while others scoffed, scoffing not out of disbelief, but from old scars from when they were still alive.

"It won't work," A butterfly-winged winner muttered, his voice sharpened with pain, "Those people? Those monsters? They had their chance. They threw it away. They chose their sins!" His wings fluttered with frustration, dusting golden pollen into the air. "You don't crawl your way out of Hell. You earn your place there."

But even as some of them were all leaning towards that idea, not all agreed.

Near him, an otter winner clasped her hands over her heart as her eyes glistened with unshed tears, "But... what if it can work?" She whispered softly, "What if... some of them were just lost? What if they never had anyone to guide them? And now... that demon, Charlie... she's giving them something none of us could... a second chance."

Her words struck a chord as the air grew heavier with emotion, and one of the oldest among them, a panda winner with silver fur and mournful eyes stepped forward.

He gazed at the projection with an unreadable expression. In his hands, he held an old, worn photo that shimmered with heavenly light, "My son... He died in anger,"He said quietly, looking down at the photo with tears slowly starting to spill, "He was hurting. Confused. And I... I never got to make things right."

His voice cracked slightly as he said, "If this... if what she's doing is real... if she can reach even one soul down there... maybe he's one of them. Maybe, just maybe... I can finally see my boy again."

A hush fell over the crowd as the arguments softened and even the butterfly winner felt bad, they just found out that their loved ones could potentially be erased and now that they were presented with an opportunity to see them once more...it was just too much to handle.

Emily stared at the floating screen, her eyes wide and glistening, as the words echoed in her head, "A hotel that rehabilitates sinners..."

The silence in the room was heavy, reverent... until it shattered with joy.

With a sudden squeal, Emily turned and threw her arms around the Kitsuna beside her, hugging it so tightly that it gave a startled squeak. She bounced on her feet, giddy with hope as she squealed, "She's going to redeem them! Demons, actual demons! I knew it! I knew there was good in them somewhere!"

The Kitsune blinked, its tail twitched, but offered no protest, just a quiet purr of approval.

"So She did," Peter murmured, his voice thoughtful and slightly troubled, "That... is something we have never seen from Hell. Redemption has always been the dominion of Heaven. Mercy... was our charge."

"And now... one born of Lucifer dares to offer it herself," He added quietly.

Emily's voice broke as her hands clutched together, trembling with the sheer weight of hope, "Then maybe... not all of them are monsters. Maybe they're just... lost!"

Jesus watched the glowing image of Charlie, her voice full of trembling optimism, as she preached the idea of redemption.

He didn't speak at first. He simply watched.

And then, with a voice that was both a storm and a lullaby, He said, "Compassion... even in the darkest places. My teachings live in her, even if she does not know their name."

Peter turned towards him and exclaimed, "But she is his daughter! The Morningstar... she carries his blood!"

Jesus nodded, "Yes. And yet she shows more mercy than even the majority of the people."

Emily's eyes welled with tears and said, "Do you really think... it could work? That they could find their way back? Even after all they've done?"

Jesus turned toward her, his smile solemn but radiant as he patted her on the head, "Redemption is not a gift we take. It is a door that waits, for the one who knocks, humbles, and tries again. No soul is too far gone to be seen. If they are willing to walk the path... then it is not our place to bar the road."

{Hell}

I.M.P Headquarters:

Blitzø nearly choked on his drink as he watched the broadcast play across the TV, "A what?! A hotel for what?! Rehab for sinners?!" His eyes squinted at the screen, and dramatically threw his arms up in the air, "Pfft, oh sure, let's hug the psychopaths and tell them everything's gonna be fine! Yeah, that'll fix Hell!"

Moxxie crossed his arms and tilted his head thoughtfully, "Well, I mean... in theory, it's not the worst idea. Redemption is a powerful motivator. Maybe some of them really do want to change?"

"Honey, we murder people for a living. Pretty sure we ain't getting into no redemption line anytime soon." Millie reminded him of their illegal profession.

Loona, who actually watched Charlie's broadcast muttered, "That sounds really weird. Demons trying to play nice? That's just asking for a backstab with a smile." She paused, as she watched Charlie's hopeful expression, "...Still, kinda gutsy. Stupid, but gutsy."

Blitzø gestured at the screen again, "I mean, look at her! Little Miss Sunshine in a meat grinder. It's crazy! It's insane! It's wait a second..." He paused, his eyes widened with realization, "Does this mean less business for us? If that shit actually works, does that mean redemption cuts into the assassination market?!"

Moxxie sighed, already used to Blitzø's antics, "Not everything's about business, Blitz."

"Yes it is!" Blitzø snapped, already pulling out a notepad, "Okay, okay, maybe we send a fruit basket. Or a bomb. Just to see where she stands. Or maybe, hear me out, we open our own hotel and call it Instant Murder Paradise. Guaranteed no one gets better!"

Millie gives him a playful shove, "You're insane, sugar. But I love ya."

Meanwhile, Loona rolled her eyes, muttering, "I give the place two weeks before it burns down."

Pride Ring:

While most of the other demons and sinners were busy mocking her, that particular line "redemption" hit a chord in the heart of one sinner in particular.

Mrs. Mayberry, once a calm and patient schoolteacher, blinked in disbelief, Her red eyes lifted from the stack of poorly-written imp homework she was grading. The violet-skinned demon adjusted her glasses as the realization slowly dawned on her.

"Redemption?" She echoed under her breath, "In this literal hellhole?"

Even after death, Mayberry had fallen back into the only work she ever truly loved, teaching. Her students now were scrappy hellhound pups and underfed imp children, but somehow, they still reminded her of the kids she taught on Earth. It had felt, in a strange way, like starting over. A second chance.

She turned up the volume on the battered television bolted to her classroom wall, her tail curling with intrigue, "Maybe... maybe this is worth a shot," She whispered softly, "I wasn't evil. Not really. I just... snapped."

She folded her hands and sat back in her chair, listening closely to the demon princess speaking with such hope. Hope was rare down here. So rare that it almost hurts to hear.

[Everyone was silent, her broadcast is being shown at The Radio Shack, which many other demons are also watching by the streets and everywhere else in Hell,]

[Charlie then started to lose her confidence in the silence, "Y'know? 'Cause hotels are for people passin' through... temporarily..."]

[In Klub Kaiju, the sinners and demons were shown mingling and drinking while watching the broadcast.]

["Ahahaha! IS this girl for real?! She thinks-" A lizard demon tried to hold in his laughter at this hilarious idea that the Princess of Hell just said, "You hear what she thinks?! She thi- HAHA! Ah, she's nuts."]

Klub Kaiju:

The deep, guttural laugh of the large lizard demon echoed off the walls of Klub Kaiju as he smugly pointed at the screen showing the earlier broadcast, "Ha! Look at me, front and center! Told ya I had gone the d screentime!"

But his amusement was short-lived as Zeezi's face turned pale white as she instantly slapped him with her tail, her eyes widened with panic and fear, "You absolute fucking idiot! Do you even realize what the fuck you just did?!"

The lizard demon paused, his grin faltering, "What're you talkin' about now?"

She jabbed a clawed finger toward the screen and shouted, "You laughed at Charlie. Lucifer's daughter. You mocked her on a live broadcast! Are you really that dense?!"

He blinked twice as the cogs slowly turned in his small reptilian brain, "So?"

A few other sinners nearby, who'd been nursing drinks and watching the segment in amused silence, suddenly stiffened. Their expressions twisted from entertained to horrified.

"So?!" Someone hissed from across the room, "Lucifer's probably watching the broadcast, you fucking moron! You just made yourself a fucking target!"

A heavy silence fell across Klub Kaiju as the music instantly stopped as every demon, imp, and sinner in the club slowly turned toward the lizard demon, their drinks long forgotten.

One imp muttered with a trembling voice, "Oh... fuck."

Another sinner added, "Oh my god, we're so fucking screwed! He's gonna know we were laughing too!"

Glances darted nervously toward the shadows. The room suddenly felt too hot, too tight. Even the bartenders paused, uncertain if serving another drink might somehow make them look complicit.

The lizard demon's tail twitched anxiously as his chuckle died entirely, "Ah, shit..."

["I think it'll serve a purpose... a place to work toward redemption... yay...!" Charlie forced a smile despite the awkward situation.]

[The scene cuts back to the demons watching her broadcast from The Radio Shack. A mysterious figure walks up to see her broadcast alongside a bunch of other demons watching, including Crymini.]

[A cameraman demon snickered at the stupid idea, "Stupid bitch."]

[Who was then immediately punched in the face by Vaggie.]

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor's grin stretched from ear to ear as his image lit up the broadcast screen, the glow dancing across his sharp features like stage lights on a showman. With a satisfied hum, he casually adjusted his bowtie, clearly relishing the spotlight as the camera had caught his every movement, his eerie charm, that unsettling energy that never quite left his eyes. He looked pleased... too pleased.

Beside him, Charlie fidgeted nervously, eyes flickering between the screen and the real thing. She forced a smile, but the tension in her shoulders betrayed her.

'How would the world react to seeing him so early in the broadcast?' She wondered. Alastor was already infamous across Hell, and now, with a global platform stretching across Heaven and Earth, his presence casts a long, dark shadow over her hopeful message.

Meanwhile, in a distant district of Hell, a rowdy demon bar fell completely silent as the segment aired. A group of demons who had been laughing at the earlier scenes stiffened the moment they saw themselves, mere feet away from The Radio Demon.

One leathery-winged demon let out a long, slow breath, "That... that was Alastor. We were that close to him?" He gulped audibly.

A feathered demon with glassy, wide eyes trembled as she whispered, "Holy shit... I thought my skin was just crawling cause the air was cold.."

"Shut up," A demon hissed, "Don't say his name too loud, what if he hears it through the screen?"

{Earth}

New Orleans

In a quiet, dimly lit coffeehouse nestled deep in the French Quarter of New Orleans, the warmth of jazz mingled with the scent of chicory and fresh beignets. Locals chatted in murmurs, unaware that something ancient stirred in the bones of the city.

At a corner table near the window, an elderly woman froze mid-sip of her Café Au Lait, her wrinkling fingers trembling slightly. Her milky eyes, clouded with age but not dulled, fixated on the screen behind the bar playing the broadcast. The moment he appeared those antlers, that strange static, and that ghastly grin... a deep shiver traveled up her spine.

"That demon... he feels so familiar," She whispered in a hoarse, haunted tone. Her voice was low, distant, as if she were speaking more to herself than to her granddaughter beside her, "Like a shadow I've seen before... from long, long ago."

The young woman seated across from her leaned forward, gently rubbing circles on her grandmother's back. "It's alright, gran-mère. He can't hurt you. Not through a screen. You're safe here, okay? That thing's locked down there, far, far away from us."

But despite her comforting words, her eyes lingered on the screen longer than she intended. Something about that deer-headed demon made her stomach twist, like the feeling of walking into a house where something terrible had once happened.

Across town, the same unease was shared by others. In a suburban home on the outskirts, a retired police chief sat stiffly on his leather recliner, eyes narrowed as he watched the broadcast with growing tension. His loyal old bloodhound, Ripper, normally dozing through television noise, suddenly snapped to attention. The dog growled low, his ears twitched and it's body tensed up, staring directly at the screen as if it recognized a predator.

The chief raised an eyebrow, "Ripper? What's gotten into you?"

But even as he asked, his gut told him the answer. Something wasn't right.

He leaned forward, grabbed his laptop off the coffee table, and began typing furiously. Within seconds, the Louisiana state criminal database opened before him. He didn't know exactly what he was looking for, missing persons, unsolved murders, tales of bizarre happenings in the 1930s and '40s, but something in that demon's appearance, tugged at a memory buried deep in the annals of his own city's dark past.

"Let's see if you've walked these streets before, demon," He muttered, clicking open a cold case file from 1933.

{Heaven}

A cold, unsettling chill slithered down May's spine as her eyes remained locked on the screen. That smile. That grin, too wide, too sharp, too familiar. The red-clad demon on the broadcast didn't say a word, and yet his presence roared in her soul like a scream muffled under water. She couldn't explain it. She shouldn't know him. And yet... every fiber of her being insisted otherwise.

"May, dear, are you alright?" Genevieve asked gently, her warm hand resting on May's shoulder. Her voice was laced with concern, noticing the sudden paleness in her friend's face.

May blinked rapidly, tearing her eyes away from the screen and forcing a weak smile, "I'm... I'm fine, Genevieve. Just a bit dizzy. I just need a moment."

Genevieve nodded, unconvinced, but didn't press on as she gave May's shoulder a comforting squeeze and returned to drinking her tea.

May leaned back in her chair, her hands trembling in her lap. That thing, that demon, his eyes, his aura, all stirred something in her buried far too deep. Not a memory, but a feeling. A shadow cast across her soul that had never fully disappeared.

She may have told herself she was fine.

She may have thought she'd never see him again.

But something whispered in the corners of her mind:

You already have.

And she would again... much sooner than she dared believe.

["Look, every single one of you has something good, deep down inside. I know you do!" Charlie's face perked up as she had an idea, "...Maybe I'm not getting through to you."]

[Razzle and Dazzle are then alerted that Charlie's about to sing and that she may need their back-up vocals.]

[Vaggie facepalmed herself, knowing what she's about to do, "Oh, no..."]

[Charlie snaps her fingers as the room turns dark and a spotlight is shown over a piano that Charlie, Razzle and Dazzle start performing on. Meanwhile, back at The Radio Shack, Alastor and his shadow can be seen tilting their heads curiously as their smiles widen.]

{Earth}

South Dakota

The sudden shift into a musical number left Earth's viewers stunned, many blinking in disbelief at their screens.

"Wait... what the hell?" A guy mumbled, "Is this actually a musical now?" He scratched his head in confusion, "I was kidding when I said that earlier, why the fuck is there a musical happening in Hell?"

His girlfriend was unfazed by this as she casually pulled out her phone and began recording, "I don't know, babe," She replied with a shrug, angling her camera for the best shot, "But I want to see how she sings."

A guy standing nearby gave her a skeptical glance.

"What?" She asked innocently, "I work for a record label. If Hell starts pumping out performers, I'm not gonna miss the first one to go viral." She gestured to the TV with a nod, "Besides... that's the actual princess of Hell. That's a marketing goldmine and a once-in-history voice debut."

More people in the room gradually leaned in, some out of morbid curiosity, others with genuine interest, because, no matter how strange the situation had become, it was impossible to look away.

♫ I have a dream. ♫

♫ I'm here to tell. ♫

[Charlie stood tall on the grand piano, her heels clicking as the first notes rang out from the goat demon seated at the keys.]

♫ About a wonderful, fantastic new hotel. ♫

♫ Yes, it's one of a kind, right here in Hell. ♫

[With infectious energy and a glowing grin, she launched into her song, her voice soaring as she dramatically unfurled a massive blueprint of the hotel. The blueprints fluttered open, glittering with magical sparkles as she held them high for the audience to see. Moments later, she tucked them away and, with a graceful leap, landed back on the floor to continue her show.]

[As the music picked up tempo, she danced confidently down the aisles of the studio audience, striding through rows of confused onlookers. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench exchanged baffled glances at their desk, clearly unprepared for a musical number breaking out live on air.]

♫ Catering to a specific clientele ♫

♫ (Oooh-ooh-ooh) ♫

[The goat demons harmonized together in unison.]

♫ Inside of every demon is a rainbow! ♫

♫ Inside every sinner is a shiny smile! ♫

[Charlie walked through the audience while she continued to sing.]

♫ Inside of every creepy hatchet-wielding manic! ♫

♫ Is a jolly, happy, cupcake loving child! ♫

[Charlie didn't miss a beat. She skipped past masked, hatchet-wielding demons who took swings at her mid-note. She dodged each attempt with the grace of a seasoned performer and, instead of retaliation, handed a cupcake to the final attacker. The cupcake-wielding demon blinked in confusion as she gently patted him on the head and walked on.]

♫ We can turn them 'round! ♫

♫ They'll be heaven bound! ♫

[With flair, Charlie jumped atop the news desk, flashing a confident smile to Katie and Tom before turning back to face the camera and audience with renewed enthusiasm.]

♫ With just a little time down at the Happy Hotel! ♫

[Vaggie slowly shook her head and closed her eyes.]

{Hell}

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie gave a soft, bashful smile as she watched herself on screen, recalling the thrill of performing in the studio. Despite the jeers and mocking from the audience afterward, there was something magical about being able to sing her heart out, even in Hell.

Curled up beside her on the couch, Vaggie leaned in a little closer, her one visible eye closing with a gentle sigh as she listened to the replay of Charlie's voice drifting from the TV.

"You've got the voice of an angel, Charlie." Vaggie said warmly, her tone soft with affection.

Charlie blushed and giggled at the compliment as her cheeks turned pink. "Aww, thank you!" She chirped, before adding a playful twinkle in her eye, "Well... you're technically not wrong. You do remember who my dad is, right?"

Angel Dust snorted so hard he nearly choked on his drink, "Pffft! Holy shit!" He wheezed, wheezing harder when he caught the startled expression on Vaggie's face.

Vaggie's face lit up with embarrassment, as her hair fluffed slightly from her fluster, "I-! I didn't mean it like that! I wasn't trying to make fun of you or anything I swear!"

Charlie waved her hands in reassurance, laughing sweetly. "It's okay, Vaggie! I know you didn't mean it that way. Besides," Ahe added, nudging her girlfriend with a grin, "It's really nice to hear that from you. I mean... it's been a while since anyone called my singing angelic."

Angel Dust raised his glass, "I dunno, babe. You might be Hell's princess, but that performance was almost holy. Almost." He cheekily winked.

Charlie rolled her eyes with a giggle, while Vaggie gave Angel a mock glare, but even she couldn't hide her smile.

♫ So, all you junkies, freaks and weirdos! ♫

♫ Creepers, fuck ups, crooks, and zeros! ♫

♫ And downfallen superheroes, hope is here! ♫

[As her song continued, she waltzed over to a junkie sinner demon, plucking used syringes from his hands mid-puff from a crack pipe. Without missing a beat, she tossed the syringes into a passing bin with perfect aim.]

[Next, she struck a dramatic pose inside a cage alongside a pair of conjoined demons, both looking thoroughly unamused with their predicament. Off to the side, the goat cameramen snapped glamorous photos of the awkward trio.]

[In a quick cut, Charlie was seen in a comedic struggle, her foot lodged inside the slimy maw of a massive slug demon. Still singing, she yanked her leg free with a loud pop, landing in a perfect pirouette.]

[Elsewhere, a creeper demon peeked through a window at a woman changing clothes, only to shriek in terror as Charlie suddenly appeared on the other side of the glass, pressing her face against it and scaring him stiff.]

[Continuing her crusade, she snagged armfuls of stolen cash from sneering bandit demons and gleefully dumped it into a charity box.]

[Charlie then tackled two fallen superhero demons in tattered capes, dragging them into a tight embrace as if to physically squeeze redemption into their souls.]

{Earth}

Ireland

A woman filming with her phone gave an impressed whistle as the pace of the music surged, "Damn, girl's got a hell of a set of lungs, pun intended." She smirked, momentarily lowering the phone to glance at her boyfriend, who simply nodded in agreement as the crowd around them was visibly caught up in the rhythm, tapping feet and bobbing heads in sync.

"And she's not just keeping up with the tempo," Someone else added, "You can actually understand her. No slurring, no gasping. That's talent right there."

A nearby guy nudged his friend with an amused grin, "So, do you think Eminem could keep up with that kind of speed?"

His friend raised a brow and took a casual sip of his drink, "I mean, yeah, probably. But let's be real, watching a demon princess bust it out with Broadway flair? Way more entertaining."

"Facts," The first guy chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the screen.

Sweden

Inside a dim room, an overworked scientist stared wide-eyed at the suddenly overwhelming swirl of sinner species flashing by during the song's crescendo. In mere seconds, the visual chaos outpaced even his frantic typing. His hands froze mid-air. With a defeated sigh, he slowly reached for a beer, unscrewed the cap with theatrical exhaustion, and took a long gulp.

"Fuck it," He muttered, "I'll wait for the full broadcast upload. Frame-by-frame. I am not dealing with this right now."

Next to him, his assistant shrugged without looking away from the screen. "Honestly, looks like they've got legit supervillains down there."

"Yeah," He grunted, "I mean, if you die and turn into a six-armed goo demon or whatever, I guess a supervillain persona kinda just... comes with the territory."

♫ All of you cretins, sluts and losers! ♫

♫ Sexual deviants and boozers, and prescription drug abusers! ♫

♫ Need not fear! ♫

[Lying on a dock, she gazed up at a sea demon with an upside-down smile, pure curiosity in her eyes. The demon blinked in surprise at her sincerity.]

[Charlie strolled past a demon writing a very animated review, casually picking up a discarded bra from the floor with a raised brow, clearly unfazed.]

[She waved to an aquatic demon who snarled at her.]

[Then, She cheerily marched onward, approaching a group of leering perverts and giving them a casual wave before turning to a lonely demon at a bar. She smiled warmly at him and tossed a bottle of pills belonging to a nearby junkie demon into a bonfire. The demon howled in despair at his loss while Charlie moved on.]

♫ Forever again! ♫

♫ We'll cure your sin! ♫

♫ We'll make you well, you'll feel so swell! ♫

[A goat demon in a nurse outfit wheeled a comically dazed demon toward Charlie, who was now dressed in a doctor's coat. With a bright smile, she pointed to a clipboard that read, in whimsical handwriting: "Prescription: Love + Fun!" Another goat demon jammed a ridiculously oversized syringe into the demon's head, and tears welled up in the patient's eyes as a wobbly but genuine smile formed.]

{Heaven}

Promenade:

The rest of Heaven's inhabitants were left utterly speechless by Charlie's energetic performance and the surreal, chaotic parade of demonkind displayed in all their strange variety. It wasn't just the singing that stunned them, it was the bizarre, often absurd methods she used to try and rehabilitate sinners.

"Well... that's certainly one way to get rid of drugs," A sheep-like Winner named Lloyd muttered, head tilted in bewilderment as he watched Charlie toss narcotics into flames and comfort the crying addict.

"Yeah," His friend, Eugene responded dryly, folding his arms, "Though I'm not sure stabbing 'happiness' straight into their brains is exactly the golden path to redemption."

Lloyd gave a small, uncertain shrug, "Well, I mean... everyone's gotta start somewhere, right?" His voice lacked conviction, even to his own ears.

"Sure," Eugene replied flatly, his eyes narrowing at the screen, "But from the looks of it, I wouldn't be surprised if half of those poor suckers were being forced into this. Kinda hard to find spiritual enlightenment when you're being forced into smiling."

Lloyd fidgeted with the edge of his clothes, his eyes still glued to the screen as Charlie twirled with delight, oblivious to the confusion and chaos left in her wake.

"Still, it's... different. No one from Hell's ever tried something like this before." Lloyd reminded him.

Eugene didn't respond at first. He just sighed and muttered, "Yeah, well, there's a reason for that."

♫ Right here in Hell, at the Happy Hotel! ♫

[As shadows crept in and surrounded her, Charlie kept singing. Her body flared with hellfire as she transformed, her eyes shifted to glowing yellow slits, horns curled high from her head, and fire swirled around her in a crown of chaos. For a moment, she was a vision of infernal royalty. And just as suddenly, it was gone, her bright smile returning as she laughed lightly.]

{Earth}

Britain

Father Joseph instinctively took a half-step back as a sudden flicker of Charlie's demonic form flashed across the screen, her horns shown in their full display, her eyes glowing with a radiant, unnatural intensity. The warmth of her hopeful expression was replaced, for just a heartbeat, by something far older... and far more dangerous.

He exhaled slowly as he adjusted his glasses, "Ah. There it is," He murmured, his voice quiet but steady, "I nearly forgot, she is the Princess of Hell, after all."

Beside him, the older pastor named Warren gave a slow, knowing nod, his eyes never leaving the screen, "It's easy to be swept up by her kindness," He said solemnly, "But power like that... it always comes with lineage. And lineage, more often than not, comes with consequence."

A hush settled over the room like a veil, heavy and contemplative. The clergy gathered within the cathedral chamber-priests in their cassocks, nuns in clean habits, a few bishops swatched with renewed gravity. What had started as a cautious curiosity about a demon with a strange dream had shifted. Now, they watched her not as a novelty, but as a possible force.

Madeleine spoke up next, her cross clinking softly with each thoughtful tap against her chin, "If Lucifer Morningstar is truly her father then who, pray tell... was her mother?"

The question dropped into the room like a weight, stirring immediate whispers as the silence fractured into ripples of murmured discussions.

One younger priest, Alistair leaned forward and whispered, "Wouldn't that make her a Nephilim? Or... something even older?"

Another voice replied, "Demons don't produce Nephilim. But if her mother was an angel-"

"Impossible," A bishop snapped in the corner, though his voice trembled ever so slightly, "No angel of Heaven would consort with the Morningstar."

"Unless she wasn't from Heaven," Madeleine murmured, her eyes narrowing slightly.

The theories began to swirl-speculations of ancient pacts, fallen powers, forbidden unions. Names long buried in religious texts were whispered again: Lilith, Samael, even Eve. The clergy, once skeptical, now leaned forward in morbid fascination, realizing they might be witnessing the offspring of something far more complicated than simple good and evil.

Father Joseph said nothing more, only folding his hands tightly before him. His eyes remained fixed on the screen where Charlie had returned to her cheerful demeanor, smiling wide and offering hope like candy. But that glimpse... just that one spark of power had changed everything

♫ There'll be no more fire. ♫

[With renewed energy, Charlie leaped back onto the news desk, conjuring flames from her fingertips.]

♫ And no more screams. ♫

[Her eyes shimmered between shades as she slid across the desk just as a second monitor flickered to life behind her, showing scenes of sinners in agony, screaming.]

♫ Just puppy dog kisses, and cotton candy dreams. ♫

♫ And puffy-wuffy clouds, you're gonna be like "Wow!" ♫

[Then came a cut to Charlie lounging on a fluffy white cloud with a puppy in one arm and cotton candy in the other. The cloud drifted peacefully upward, parting the infernal gloom as letters formed from the clouds: WOW.]

{Hell}

Hazbin Hotel:

Angel Dust squinted at the screen, his brow arching as he watched the vivid transformation of the Hellish skyline into something unnervingly wholesome, "Okay, hold up, how the hell did ya pull that off? I mean, look at that! Blue skies, clouds, friggin' rainbows?" He gestured dramatically with all four of his hands, "We don't even have that much color in Hell unless someone spills paint or entrails."

Charlie's face brightened at the question, "Oh! That's just a bit of illusion magic!" She beamed, "I mean, I am a Morningstar, it'd be kind of embarrassing if I wasn't good at illusions, right?" Her smile widened, revealing a flash of razor-sharp teeth beneath the warmth of her words.

Angel Dust blinked his eyes. For a second, he'd almost forgotten who she was until her smile reminded him exactly why she was the daughter of Lucifer Morningstar. That smile could have charmed a puppy or terrified a room full of mob bosses, depending on how you looked at it.

"Damn, you've got a real flair for the dramatic, toots." He chuckled as he leaned back onto the worn couch, folding two of his arms behind his head while the others fiddled with a nearby pillow. "Still... not a bad trick. Feels like I'm watching a real-life Broadway special, except with more existential dread and trauma."

Charlie laughed lightly, "That's... kind of the brand."

"Yeah, well," Angel smirked, "It's got style. That's more than I can say for most of Hell."

♫ Once you check in with meeeee~! ♫

[Vaggie is seen covering her face with both of her hands.]

♫ So, all your cartoon porn addictions! ♫

♫ Vegan rants, psychic predictions! ♫

♫ Ancient Roman crucifixions! ♫

♫ End right here! ♫

[Marching through a street, she passed a demon poring over a sleazy cartoon magazine. Without hesitation, she snatched it from him. The demon collapsed, sobbing dramatically.]

[In a blur of motion, she grabbed a phone from a texting demon and yanked a crystal ball away from another, who was peering eagerly into it. She continued past a hill of crucified demons, casually kicking over the crosses and tossing the stolen items off a cliff. The demons wailed in despair.]

{Earth}

Chicago:

A man burst out laughing as the broadcast from Hell played on his monitor, Onscreen, the vegan demon in the background was in a full-blown tantrum, flinging tofu bricks and screaming about processed meat.

"Hehehe! Holy shit!" The man wheezed between snorts, "Looks like those tofu-peddling freaks do get a one-way ticket to Hell! God, I was so done with their lectures about almond milk and 'clean eating.' This is karma, baby!"

From across the room, a woman rolled her eyes as she leaned forward from the couch, arms crossed and seething at him.

"Easy for you to say, shitass!" She snapped, "Let's not forget the disgusting closet full of hentai, body pillows, and anime figurines you've been hoarding like a dragon with bad taste. Face it! We're both on the express train to damnation!"

The man flinched, visibly wounded by the accuracy of her accusation, "Tch, fuck. Yeah... you're right."

But after a brief pause, he straightened up, puffing his chest with faux confidence and an indignant sneer. "But hey, at least I'm not a bitch."

She snorted at him, "Oh, please. Go suck a dick."

"I would, but Hell's probably got a waitlist for that too."

Italy

Elsewhere, a group of Italian guys were slouched across a worn-out sectional, pizza boxes and half-empty bottles of Peroni littered across the coffee table. They were midway through laughing at a different part of the broadcast when Charlie uttered the words "ancient Roman crucifixions."

One of them winced instinctively, as if he'd just taken a phantom blow to the gut, "Dio mio... sono ancora lì in giro? Pensavo che gli Sterminatori avessero ripulito le reliquie anni fa!" (Oh my god... they're still kicking around down there? I thought the Exterminators cleaned out the relics ages ago!)

His friend next to him didn't even look up, just let out a dry scoff as he sipped from his bottle, "Quando è stata l'ultima volta che una burocrazia ha fatto bene il suo lavoro?" (When's the last time any bureaucracy did its job right?)

The first guy considered that for a moment, slowly nodding. "Eh... giusto." (Eh... fair.)

"Exactly! You think eternal damnation comes with a well-managed census?" (Exactly! Do you think eternal damnation is a result of a well-run census?) The other muttered.

♫ All you monsters, thieves and crazies! ♫

♫ Cannibals and crying babies! ♫

[Charlie gave a brilliant grin to a mob of horrific-looking monsters and waved.]

[She caught a dog demon in the act of pickpocketing and raised a brow just as the victim turned around and caught him. Further ahead, she fed a severed arm to a group of zombies like it was popcorn.]

♫ Frothing mouth that's full of rabies! ♫

♫ Filled with cheer! ♫

[She turned around to see a frantic canine demon covered in dozens of squealing demon babies. She blinked-and with a grin, dropped to the ground and joined in, frothing at the mouth right alongside him as they hugged in wild, manic joy.]

♫ You'll be complete! It'll be so neat! ♫

[Charlie was then seen slotting the final puzzle piece into a literal puzzle-shaped demon. He beamed in delight, right before a wrecking ball swung through the scene, shattering him into pieces. Without missing a beat, Charlie threw up two thumbs and flashed her signature smile.]

♫ Our service can't be beat! You'll be on easy street! (Yes!) ♫

[Suddenly dressed in a polished concierge uniform, she waved excitedly.]

[In the finale, Charlie group-hugged a gang of bar-dwelling demons, all caught between confusion and reluctant affection.]

♫ Life will be sweet at the Happy Hotel~! ♫

[Flames erupted around her as she spun, twirling into a vortex of fire that lifted her into the air. Her horns burst forth once again, her golden hair flowing like a banner. Hell below faded into a dreamy, pastel landscape as she floated like a radiant beacon.]

♫ Yeah! ♫

[And finally, with a puff of sulfur and lingering sparks, Charlie landed back atop the news desk in the 666 news studio. She panted slightly, her cheeks flushed and glowing with the thrill of the performance, her grin as wide as ever.]

{Earth}

Across cities and suburbs, in homes and public venues, cheers broke out as the song's finale reached its peak.

In one high school auditorium, the local choir club exploded into celebration. Students leapt from their chairs, clapping and cheering like they'd just won nationals. Confetti rained from somewhere, no one even knew who had it prepared, but it felt right.

"Now that's a performance!" The club president shouted over the noise, pumping his fist in the air like a victorious conductor, "That's what we aim for, people! That's the kind of stage presence that inspires!"

A girl with dyed red tips and a soprano badge on her hoodie let out a long whistle, "She did all that live? On a hellish news network?! Damn... I'd sell my soul to improv like that."

Another choir kid muttered in awe, "I thought we were good... but she just sang, fought demons, dodged hatchets, and did illusions in heels. We've got work to do if we want to catch up."

{Hell}

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor clapped his hands together in a slow, gentle rhythm, a small smile tugging at the corners of his ever-present grin, "Marvelous! Truly captivating, my dear." His eyes flickered with interest.

One by one, the rest of the Hazbin Hotel's residents followed his lead, applause rippling through the lobby like a warm wave. Husk gave a slow clap from behind the bar, a faint smirk hidden beneath his usual grumbling. Niffty bounced on her heels, clapping so fast it was a blur, her eyes sparkling like she'd just watched a Broadway dream come true.

Charlie's hands trembled as she brought them to her chest, eyes shining with unshed tears, "You guys..." She breathed heavily, as her voice cracked slightly, "Thank you so much... I really needed that."

Angel Dust let out a dramatic scoff, folding all four arms and looked away with a soft blush, "Tch. Don't get all mushy on us, princess," He muttered, a half-smile curling on his face. "It's not like we liked it or anything... you just, ya know... tried your best." His voice trailed off awkwardly.

"Forget whatever nonsense Angel said, Charlie, that was absolutely beautiful!" Vaggie beamed, her voice full of pride as she wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. Her eye shimmered with admiration, and her smile was soft but radiant, "You poured your heart into that performance, I don't care what anyone else thinks, it was amazing... you were amazing."

Charlie's cheeks flushed pink, clearly touched by the praise, her smile growing wider as she leaned into Vaggie's side with a grateful laugh, "Thanks, Vaggie... that really means a lot."

{Heaven}

Promenade:

In Heaven, the final note of Charlie's fiery performance echoed through the screens. Emily stood frozen, her eyes wide, hand hovering near her mouth,"That... was insane!" She finally breathed out, "Like... did anyone know she could do that!"

Saint Peter blinked furiously, "I've processed billions of souls, and I've never seen a musical number with that much hellfire and glitter," He muttered, "That was less 'redemption' and more... Broadway Armageddon."

Jesus gave a quiet chuckle, his expression looked thoughtful, "She's got her father's flair, but there's something more there. The fire's not just for show, there's heart in that chaos. A real desire to change things."

Emily turned to him and asked, "Do you think she'll make it work? That the whole... redemption in Hell thing can actually happen?"

Jesus smiled softly, "If anyone can change the unchangeable, it's someone who dares to sing hope into a place built on despair." He leaned back. "She's not just the princess of Hell. She's trying to be its light."

[Killjoy is in shock as Trench looks around, confused.]

["Wow! ...That was shit!" A Top Hat Demon exclaimed.]

[Everyone in the audience including Killjoy and Trench begin to laugh at Charlie. Charlie looks crushed and devastated and slumps back down to her seat. There was even a boo section in the studio as the demons looked uninterested]

["Booooo!" A Blue Flame Demon booed at her.]

["What in the Nine Circles makes you think a single denizen of Hell would give two shits about becoming a better person?!" Katie mocked her understanding of humanity, "You have no proof that this little experiment even works! You want people to be good?! Just... because?!" She then laughed even harder than before, clearly amused by this whole situation.]

{Hell}

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie visibly wilted, her bright grin vanishing as the jeers from the broadcast echoed through the room. The glow of pride that had lit her eyes moments ago dimmed, and she quietly curled up on the couch, wrapping her arms around her knees. Her gaze dropped from the screen, trying to shield herself from the sting of public humiliation.

Angel Dust paused and glanced over. Seeing her like that tugged at something in him. With a sigh, he reached over and gave her back a few awkward pats, muttering, "Hey, don't let those assholes get to you. You did good, toots."

Across the room, Vaggie's face darkened like a storm cloud. Her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles cracked. With a shout of rage, she slammed her fist into the table, the impact hard enough to crack the table, "Maldito Cameron pendejo!" she hissed through clenched teeth, "I swear to hell, if I ever get my hands on that sleazy little weasel, I'll rip his smug face off and feed it to the fucking imps! Who does this?! Who just... look at all this crap like it's some kind of freak show?!"

Alastor remained where he was, that ever-present grin carved into his face like a mask, but if one looked closely, there was a faint twitch at the corner of his eye. The booing from the crowd annoyed him more than he expected. Despite his usual disdain for sentimentalism, he had an appreciation for the theatrical arts... and Charlie's song, while overly optimistic, had been skillfully executed. The crowd's ignorance of that was, frankly, offensive to his sense of taste.

666 News Studio:

Meanwhile, back at the 666 News studio, Katie Killjoy's cackling filled the room, her voice shrill and venomous like a cicada's shriek. She practically reveled in the scene playing out onscreen, "Oh, that bombed, didn't it?" She chortled.

Tom Trench, however, had gone pale. His eyes widened in fear as a cold realization swept over him. His eyes darted between the screen and his co-anchor, "Katie. Katie!" He hissed, shaking her shoulder frantically.

She turned around, still smirking and clearly annoyed, "What?! Can't you see I'm..."

"You idiot! That's Lucifer's daughter! You just mocked the Princess of Hell on live television! You think he's not watching this?!"

Katie's grin was gone in an instant. Her laughter cut short like a record scratch, and for the first time in years, a bead of sweat formed at her temple. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. The silence around her grew heavy.

Lucifer's Palace:

Back in the royal palace of Hell, the atmosphere turned glacial. Despite the ever-burning hellfire torches lining the polished stone walls and the crimson chandeliers casting their flickering light, a chill settled over the room, unnatural and heavy.

The only sound in the chamber was the faint, grating laughter of the studio audience echoing from the screen, carrying through the room like rusted chains dragged across stone. Their ridicule clawed through the audio, raw and pitiless. And there, in the center of it, sat his daughter... slumped, her earlier radiance dimmed, her smile faltering beneath the weight of mockery.

Lucifer's expression remained unchanged for several long seconds. His stillness was deceptive, almost serene, but the air around him began to warp, as though reality itself was tensing in anticipation.

The laughter returned, harsher this time and louder as Charlie's hope, once a vibrant flame, flickered.

And Lucifer has had enough.

"Stop."

The word was soft, barely louder than a breath but it shattered the silence like a thunderclap. It didn't just echo through the chamber, it resonated, the walls themselves seeming to bow inward, as if fearing the weight behind that single syllable. The flames on the torches surged, flared, then bent away from him, flickering violently as if unwilling to burn in his presence.

His hands lowered slowly, gone was the calm amusement he often wore like a tailored cloak. In its place, a cold, immaculate fury, regal, ancient, and absolute.

"Mock her dreams if you must," He whispered, his voice low but clear, "Dreams are fragile things. Easy to crush. But hope... Hope is a fire, And fire... is mine." Lucifer murmured, his eyes narrowing at Katie.