Far from the entertainment district, deep inside Pentagram City, Valentino was still confining himself inside his office, alone this time. Red smoke wafted around the room like a heavy cloud, stemming from the use of several cigarettes which Valentino had quickly blown through and stubbed out on the nearby ashtray. Near this an empty bottle of one of the stronger liquors exclusive to Hell sat next to an equally empty, and used, glass. His phone also laid face-up on the disorganized and dirtied desk, screen lit and filling with messages from people he couldn't bother to entertain at the moment. Mainly because his focus was currently on the object directly in front of him.

That being the television that had finished displaying Joker's message no more than half an hour ago. It was filled with the standard threats and haughty attitude he was used to when someone had taken a position of power and felt the need to announce it. But that wasn't what bothered him the most. It was what happened early on in the announcement, who Joker took power from. Seeing Vox's corpse puppeteered like a twisted marionette show filled him with a quiet anger, one that wasn't typical of the Overlord known for his very vocal bouts of rage. He commanded everyone entertaining him to leave the moment it happened, and ever since he has been in this inconsolable state.

Ignoring the flood of contacts on his phone and his employees alike he made it clear he didn't want to be disturbed, and for how long was anyone's guess. One of his workers made the unfortunate mistake to knock on his door earlier, hoping he was in a better mood, only for a bullet to respond from the other side. So when that same door burst open without warning it had Valentino reaching for his gun again, only for him to stop when he saw who came through.

"Velvet," he slowly croaked out, the nicotine did no favors with his voice, "why the hell are you here?"

She skipped over to him, looking at her phone as she did so; if she saw the body still lying out in the hallway she made no comment on it, instead responding, "Um, hello? You aren't answering any of my texts. I've been trying to get your attention for, like, hours now. Did you see the news?"

At this question she finally turned her attention to him, flipping her phone around with one hand to show Voxtagram while a finger scrolled through the posts. With each one Valentino caught, they were all talking about the same thing. Vox is dead. Joker is the new Overlord. The blur of white and green interspersed with the occasional image of Vox's cracked screen didn't help with Valentino's mood. However, still keeping a calm albeit strained demeanor, he answered her straight.

"Yeah, I saw," he gestured past her to the television by the door.

She snapped her head around in the direction he was gesturing before turning back to him, "Yeesh, you still rely on cable for news? Social media picked up on this way before those clowns at 666 ever did."

At this Valentino was momentarily kicked out of his melancholic haze, "This wasn't on the fucking news Velvet. The cocky shit broadcast this personally throughout Pride."

He gave her an incredulous look which she tilted her head at, "Oh. Well, I don't have a tv. No real reason to have one anymore, everything you need is on a phone."

It was apparent she wasn't reading the room, or if she was she didn't care. So Valentino decided to make his annoyance at her continued ignorance clear. "Normally I'd tolerate your quirks Velvet, but as you clearly haven't noticed I'm not in the fucking mood."

It was at this response that Velvet finally took notice of her surroundings, mainly the state of Valentino's desk, and she put two and two together. "Are you actually upset by this Val?"

Something inside him cracked when she asked this question, as he couldn't help but let out a small laugh, "Is it that surprising that I have feelings Velvet? I'd understand if this was coming from my girls, but really you should know better."

"That's not what I meant V," she said, finally putting her phone away. Walking up to him she stopped at the other side of the desk and sat on it with one leg still on the floor, "It's just that you two have been at each other's throats for a while now. And especially after what happened at Flamegan's… why now do you care about that asshole?"

Valentino looked down and shook his head, "Why indeed…" His voice trailed off while he took another drag from his current cigarette, finally burning the last of it to ash. Blowing the smoke out to the side, to be courteous to Velvet, he snuffed it with the rest on the ashtray.

Sighing, "Do you know why we broke up recently?"

Velvet was left somewhat confused at the question, and she repeated herself, "Um, yeah, Flamegan's right? He blew up in front of you for no reason, in public, so you rightfully stomped his face in. Did I already tell you how boss that move was? Cause it was definitely a highlight on my timeline."

"That wasn't the reason," Valentino said, ignoring her comments. "Nor was it when he called my choice in clothes tacky, or any other petty reason I spun up. Honestly, after all the shit I did in the past I should've expected that reaction from him."

Velvet was silent now, watching her friend curiously. This type of lucidity wasn't something the Overlord was known for, so to listen to him was like hearing a different person entirely. Sensing she wasn't going to butt in with her own comment, Valentino continued.

"I'll admit I can be very… stressed, at times. But that was only ever because he always put his business over us. Every time I wanted to be with him, he had another interview to do, another brand deal to shill, a movie to produce, a show to direct, and on and on and on," he said with a roll of his hand. "All the time I would call him, make plans, make sure my work is put aside for another day for him; yet when I ask the same in return suddenly I'm the demanding one."

Velvet nodded her head supportively at his reserved ranting. Valentino sighed and reached for another cigarette, "That's why we keep splitting up. I may have done things I regret, but he wasn't entirely blameless either. But I always forgave him, didn't I? No matter what shit went between us I always did. And he… and now…"

Velvet's face morphed into concern when she heard the sadness creep into his voice. His hand shook, the drug pinched between his fingers, and his jaw clenched as he forced himself to finish.

"And now he's dead. The last thing I ever wanted to happen to him. Of all the shitbags down here, never him…"

He couldn't hold it back now. In this private moment between the two, the Overlord let his true emotions slip and he let the cigarette fall to the ground as he placed his hands over his face. His body shook as grief wracked his body, while Velvet looked at him sympathetically.

She may not have been all too close to Vox, their interactions were usually strategic to enhance each other's brand and public personas, but she understood that he and Valentino were very close. Although they broke up more than the average celebrity couple, they still stayed together and were the dominant Overlords in the district, besides herself, as a result. With him truly gone she finally saw how much he truly meant to her friend, and for once she didn't have much to say.

But she could tell what he needed in this moment, and with a small hop she got off the desk and walked around to Valentino's side. Feeling her presence beside him, Valentino perked his head up from his hands and looked at her. Tears clearly stained his face, making his already red eyes somehow redder. Velvet leaned down so she was almost eye-level with him, and asked him a simple question.

"You want me to kill him?"

Valentino's breath stilled for a moment as he weighed the question in his mind, although it didn't take long for him to give a response.

"No," he said softly.

He stood up from his seat, forcing Velvet to take a couple steps back. With a more serious expression on his face, he looked down at her and growled, "We'll kill him together."

Velvet's once confused expression at his initial response was replaced with a smile at this affirmation. Valentino then turned away from her to the window behind him, gazing out to the city that sprawled below them.

"The Vs have always been stronger together. That's why we have our pieces of the city in the first place. We probably would've been shoved out a long time ago if we were at each other's throats. Vox going after Joker alone was his mistake, one that I played a role in. One that cost him his life."

He paused, his eyes screwed shut as he forced himself not to return to his heartache. Then his eyes opened again and he continued, "We won't make the same mistake. We're going to take him on together, and drive his sorry ass into the next world."

Velvet was pleased to hear all of this, not just because her friend was in better spirits now but because she finally had a reason to get her hands dirty again. Stepping forward, she asked him one last question.

"What's our first move, boss?"

Valentino thought to himself for a few seconds, before turning around to address Velvet directly, "Joker is new fish in this town, and while he may have power he's going to learn that shit isn't enough if he plans to make a dent in our city. The only thing that can trump power is connections, and that's something we have in spades."

"Call a meeting with Henroin, we're going to have a little sit-down."

-At the same time, in a plane time forgot-

Paimon stared at the corpse of the nameless man below him, blood gathered around in a large pool which emanated from the cavities in his head. What a waste, he thought to himself, he may have been able to survive the trials. Then again it isn't that big of a loss, I'm not wanting for bodies, inhabitable or otherwise.

Turning away, he moved down the stone corridor in silence. Those confined in this dungeon wouldn't dare step into the light, not while he was close by. As he walked, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Joker took everything he said at face value. Not that he expected a different outcome. He wasn't the type to care about grander schemes or elaborate explanations. Unlike a certain radio host he could've told him he brought him here for the fun of it and he would have been just as satisfied. Still, Paimon felt he deserved some version of the truth after all he'd been through so far. One that told him just what he needed to know, for now.

The hallway shifted in front of him, as Paimon influenced the space around him to change to that of a new locale. It was similar in structure to the dungeon he was previously in, but it was larger than a simple hallway. A chandelier hung above him carrying several lit candles, offering more than the meager lighting the cells did. Double wooden doors stood in front of him, a bar laid across on wooden hooks which jutted out from the walls on either side. And, although it was faint, he could hear giggling coming from the other side.

Paimon eyed the doors with a steely glare as he thought back to his conversation with the Clown Prince of Crime. Killing sinners to convince Lucifer to topple Heaven? That was hardly his goal. He tried countless times before with more obvious evidence that the angels were here to keep them in line, and not the ones from above. Yet no matter what he did he ignored everything that was going on right in front of his nose. Choosing instead to crawl back to his whore Lilith.

Lucifer was weak, Paimon understood that now. If he was going to be complacent in the clear takeover of Hell by Father's slaves, then it was up to him to do what needed to be done. And Joker was going to help him. After all, once Pride is culled of the sinners, who was going to stop him? The other Goetia? He wasn't the only one who was fed up with Lucifer's lack of action. And those who would still choose to stand against him would be taken care of by his new and growing army.

With a nod the bar lifted out of its place and was cast off to the side, the doors swinging out into the room beyond to expose its contents to the Goetian king. With the door now agape, the earlier giggling had grown to loud laughter, and in the light of the chandelier nearly a hundred green eyes and pale faces could be seen in the darkness. Jack's gift has been paying off in dividends, and all without his knowing. Like Paimon told him, some things are better left unsaid, and there was no reason for him to know about them just yet.

One Jokerized demon in particular, upon noticing the door was open, tried to charge out in his direction, manically laughing along the way. Whether it was to escape or harm him Paimon didn't know, but either way such breaking in the ranks wouldn't be obliged.

When he became basked in the light of the candles above, and was mere inches from the Goetia's form, he responded with one simple word.

"Stop."

And all at once the possessed demon halted in his tracks, all will having left his body. Paimon examined his form for a moment, noting the white that covered his face also extended up to his horns and throughout his body. His eyes were a solid green, and his mouth was stretched into a permanent smile. It seemed with every breath he took he let out a laugh with it. It truly was fascinating, the kind of work Joker could accomplish when he put his mind to it. And with his touch not only had he elevated his work, but he now had control over it himself.

As if to demonstrate this fact, he raised a hand in front of the demon, then sharply twisted his wrist. In response, the demon grabbed his own head and just as sharply cracked it to the left, snapping his neck and falling to the floor. Paimon eyed the corpse for a moment, waiting. In a matter of minutes, the body started to shake with laughter and the demon's hands haphazardly felt around the floor until they planted themselves and pushed him slowly back to his feet. When he was upright again, he grabbed his head and replaced it so it was facing in front again, and he looked at Paimon expectantly.

The Goetia gave him a small smile and waved him off, gesturing he go back inside the room he came from. The demon obliged him, laughing every so often, and when he was back with the rest Paimon had the doors closed and resealed. They weren't many, but they were a start, and they could not be killed. By his hand or even the hands of angels, there were those in that room which bore puncture wounds from Exterminator blades that stand testament to that fact.

With them he would be able to rid Hell of Lucifer and those who stood with him, and be able to claim the throne for himself. No more false kings. No more Overlords. No more weakness.

And when Hell was brought back to the way it was, Heaven would be next.

End of Part 1