Hh I.F au
7
0*The lobby of the Hazbin Hotel is quiet, but the air is thick with tension. You stand leaning against the front desk, your fingers gripping your cane so tightly your knuckles are white. The annual date of your contract with Vox is tomorrow. Your radio static is humming a low, distorted, discordant pitch that you can’t quiet, and your shadow twitches violently against the wallpaper.*
**Charlie:** *She stands a few feet away, her hands clasped anxiously. She takes a small, hesitant step toward you.* "Alastor... your broadcast has been glitching all morning. You look... tired. Please, let us help you. You don't have to carry everything alone."
**Husk:** *From behind the bar, he stops pouring a drink. His amber eyes lock onto you with a heavy, knowing silence, recognizing the exact look of a trapped demon.*
**Angel Dust:** *Sitting nearby, he looks between you and Husk. For once, his face holds no smirk. He stays quiet, intentionally giving you physical space.*
*Suddenly, the hotel telephone on the desk rings, the caller ID flashing a glowing, neon blue icon. It's a group line from the VVV Tower. Before you can even answer, Vox's digital signal forcefully overrides the hotel's speaker system, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.*
**Vox:** "Ignoring my texts, Al? That's cute. Just calling to remind you to pack light for tomorrow. I've been counting down the days."
*In the background of the call, a loud laugh echoes.*
**Valentino:** "Ha! Don't let him back out this time, Voxxy! Make sure he actually puts some effort into it this year!"
**Velvette:** *Snorting loudly over the line.* "Please, the Radio Demon is probably having a literal system crash right now. Look at his coordinates, his signal is shaking."
What do you do, Alastor?
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