The conscious mind of a disguised redeemed had awoken from his slumber. Artyom tried to sit upright in his bed; however, his chest felt heavy and he looked down to find two beautiful women snuggling at his side. They all shared the comfort of the blanket and sheets as he rekindled his thoughts from last night.
Verosika immediately dragged him and Mrs. Mayberry into his room, after the concert, just to have her way with them. He smiled at what the pleasures of the flesh could bring since it was genuine fun between the trio. Yet, it gave him a glimpse at the passionate feelings the teacher had for him. These two women shared feelings for him - one so open and upfront while the other seemed to repress her heart's desires until that moment. How was he going to divide his attention between two people that he shared intimate relations with? Sooner or later, an ultimatum would be unleashed and he would have to sacrifice the other. Despite it all, the Russian considered pursuing both, hoping to make their love last as much as they could.
His throat was dry and it was high time that he quenched its thirst. Here, he carefully brought their arms off his chest and laid them on the bedsheets. Then the former Polis Ranger slipped out of bed and sought for his pants and horizontally blue-striped undershirt, quietly wearing the bare minimum until his belt was tightened around the waist. He turned back to find the women alone in their slumber before his hand pulled the covers over their shoulders, wishing their dreams a good outcome.
Artyom left them in silence as he walked out of his hotel room and strolled through the hallways with broad shoulders and a straightened back. It wasn't like him to take pride in being so casual among his friends but maybe it was the sex that gave him this newfound confidence. Then the elevator was located and the Purgatory investigator descended the shaft while his feet pressed against the hard surface of the marble floor. Perhaps he shouldn't have left without his boots? Nonetheless, he pressed forward upon reaching the main floor as he made his way to the lobby to find it nearly abandoned save for two sinners around the bar.
Husk stood behind the bar and cleaned his glasses with a rag while the Radio Demon sat on a stool stand, hunched over the counter, sipping his shots in silence. His gaze held contempt for the overlord before catching the approach of another looking for his water hole. "Morning, Railtracer. It seems like you had the time of your life. What's it like having a threesome with two babes?"
The question was one he was embarrassed to answer before taking his seat beside Alastor. "I'm not sure you want to know the details."
"Don't bullshit me, rusky! You three were loud enough that no one slept 'till midnight." He shouted, almost accusing him of the sins of lust.
"Gentlemen, now is not the time to yell." The Russian turned in his chair to see the powerful sinner grimace and groan before taking another sip from his whiskey. "Early is the hour before our lives begin."
It was weird to see him so exposed and vulnerable like this. Normally, he had some form of high-class composure, but not this one time. "What happened to you?"
He stole a glance from him. "It is quite simple. I got shot. Dangerous I am but invincible I am not. Someone got the better of me and rarely do they live past the initial encounter. Perhaps I may ask you to pay the infractor a visit in the same manner when you came to Angel's aid."
"The Radio Demon asking for a favor?" Husk clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Now I've seen everything."
"Don't tell our effeminate fellow. I wouldn't hear the last of it from him."
Artyom could not help himself but let out a chuckle. What could be more humorous than seeing the strongest at their weakest and seeing them in different circumstances of life? Despite the offer, he held reservations given his service to the Department of Purgatory. "I will hold you to that when the time comes. Hopefully, it won't happen." His parched throat reminded him of his reason to be here before looking to the bartender for the one flavor that defined him. "Vodka, please?"
"On the double." Acknowledged the winged cat as he turned around and reached for a clear bottle hiding behind an array of various flavors of alcoholic beverages. Then he poured the drink into the glass he was cleaning earlier.
The front door to the Hazbin Hotel was opened before it was followed by the sounds of metal and machinery echoing from the hallway behind. Light footsteps tapped against the wooden floorboards as the arrival approached, making its way to the bar without masking its movements. They were paid a visit and the overlord raised his head while a low inhuman growl emanated from within his voice. "Let's see who is the brave soul to have interrupted our little meeting."
Husk turned around to the bar before he was taken aback by a sight behind the disguised saved. "Holy shit!" His terror took over, dropping a half-full glass to the ground, shattering across the floor.
He and Alastor turned around to face the unknown; however, the blue machine that he encountered last night stood before them. It's golden 'wings' retracted behind the back, tilting the lens of the camera that constituted it's head. A robotic tone echoed from it's speakers as V1 addressed them. "Does this establishment offer blood?"
"Uh, no." The bartender replied before yelping in pain while the glass shards crackled underneath his weight. He placed the bottle behind Artyom before he stepped out from behind his station. "I'm going to get Nifty to clean all this shit up while I get the damned glass out of my legs."
Soon, he walked past the machine without a care in the world. Yet, the presence of Verosika's father conveyed an uncomfortable atmosphere within the lobby room. "A war machine designed for the War in Heaven makes for poor company." Commented the Radio Demon as he grabbed his glass and took one long gulp of its contents until it was empty. Then a portal appeared out of thin air with a black tendril reaching out to snatch it from his hand before gently placing it on the counter. "Well, I'll be off soon. I've got errands with acquaintances of mine. You two enjoy yourselves."
Alastor made his way for the front door with his speaker stand in hand but as he stopped upon passing the machine. Both exchanged a long look at each other before he continued, leaving the creature of steel alone with him.
It approached him while reaching behind and brandishing a gold coin, tossing the currency upwards and catching it mid-air. "My daughter has taken a liking to you. Probabilities dictate that you are a massive improvement over the imp assassin." Was it referring to his boss?
"You're talking about Blitz, aren't you?" He replied, hinting at the subject matter.
"He broke her heart and my operational efficiency was reduced in order to readjust to her emotions." V1 plainly answered as it caught the gold coin one last time. "Will you do the same to her… investigator."
Artyom froze in place and took a moment to gather his thoughts. Was his identity compromised now? Would he have the opportunity to convince Verosika's stepfather not to rat him out inside the hotel? Much was at stake here; especially, when it came to the safety of his soul being in the same room as a war machine that may surpass his own combat skills.
"So you're another one of Azrael's agents? Data event analysis indicates a high-priority operation for the Department of Purgatory to be this close to Lucifer's daughter."
There was no point in hiding the truth when it was so apparent. Yet, despite his masquerade failing at this critical moment in time, he raised his finger before his lips to gesture the machine to be quieter. "Lower your voice."
"My sound sensors do not indicate observable souls within sufficient range to hear this conversation. Your identity is only aware with this unit alone." The machine replied while the Russian turned around and snatched the bottle of vodka off the counter. If he was being watched, his superiors would definitely reprimand him for being so open with this robot.
"So," He chugged the clear liquid into his mouth as his throat burned and his body lost a bit of his control before he pulled it away from his lips, "What becomes of this situation now that you know what I am?"
It opened its palm and reached out to him while revealing the gold coin that was being carried. "A matter of personal diplomacy. Do you love her or is this some kind of ruse that you are using on behalf of the Archangel of Death?"
His back leaned against the bar and contemplated the relationship. In the aftermath of his marriage with Anna, he minded his own business and remained distant from the others unless it was like Uhlman, Pavel, or Tony. It was complicated, to say the least, but someone like Verosika and now Helen were new additions to an equation he didn't put a lot of thought into. Despite their place being in Hell, Artyom appreciated them a in close intimate manner. "I love her if it gives you any comfort."
"Response is satisfactory. I approve of my daughter's relations with someone like yourself."
"They said you were a weapon for the War in Heaven." He referred to the remarks of Alastor upon the machine, which had incited morbid curiosity from the Russian about its origins. How could he learn more about the robot that served as his girlfriend's father? "What's something like you doing with the likes of the sinners and Hellborn down here?"
"It was a different time. Tensions between Heaven and Hell ran high with armies of angels and demons being killed in droves, fate hanging by the Fallen Archangel winning against his brothers in duels. Created in the Garden of Eden, my programming informed me I was to kill the Hellborn in droves through cold and ruthless efficiency that could not be achieved by previous data." V1 then walked up and stood by the bar staring past the disguised saved it had identified long before ever knew.
"That's a lot of information to take in."
"You are the first person to ever ask this query." The machine answered in its synthetic tone. "My existence is one that this unit must come to grips with as time passes on. As the chronometer continues, my sensors for the fate of the denizens of Hell leave me with non-physical damage."
There was something more to V1 than he had initially anticipated and existing beside it, only raised concerns for his well-being. It was a creation beyond anything witnessed from the likes of the afterlife. "Sounds like you have a lot on your plate that I didn't give you credit for. Must be Hell in its own right if a robot has the feelings of fear."
"You have no idea. Ever since I broke out and descended to this place, my programming protocols have left me instructions to kill everything for a time when Hell is full."
"Then it must be hard when it comes to Verosika," To see such emotional vulnerability from a machine among many sights in his life was one his mortal existence wouldn't have considered. In some strange irony, it merely reminded him of the time when he cared and looked out for the little Dark One when he sought some measure of redemption for his soul. "You've probably conducted yourself a lot better with your daughter than I could ever do. So you have something going for you."
"Perhaps. I do not know what mission you have been tasked with to be here. What is certain is that your fate is not a mere coincidence given your small birthright a few humans are ever fortunate to have. My social encounter with you has been noted within my database. We will see how you'll perform after my core has been replenished with someone's innards." Such a statement merely caused Artyom confusion as it turned away and slid out of the room. V1 managed to click a memory of his past when Khan first met him, speaking in riddles and intentions so mysterious until they were finally realized. If this was a sign of things to come, how would he react to the given situation?
His phone rumbled in his pocket and he reached inside his clothes to seek out the caller. The flat screen was quick to inform him that it was none other than Hunter, containing a profile picture of a red-skinned man mimicking the ancient propaganda posters of a Soviet Union before the bombs came to be. He was elated to see this old family friend of his again if he went out of the way to reach for him. Upon accepting the active call, the Russian greeted him. "Hey, what's up?"
"I just got off of work. Wasn't sure if you were too busy but I was wondering if you'd want to hang out at this park I'm going to." Spoken with a joyous mood. "It's been years since we properly exchanged decent stories."
"I've got time. Give me the coordinates." He would set his schedule up with an old family friend of his. Now that they were properly dead, Artyom would find some measure of closure with that chapter of his life before his damnation at Ostankino tower.
Two imps had spent the better part of their night trying to hunt down their patron's assassin. Prince Stolas was too important for the business of assassinating humans but more so for their boss. When Moxxie saw Blitz's reaction to his boyfriend's wounds, it was a scene that demanded that he intervene. He's an asshole but he was his asshole while the duo leaped roof to roof tracking their prince killer across Imp City.
Striker was ahead of them leaping from one ledge to another. Agile as he was, the married couple kept pace. In their pursuit, both parties exchanged inaccurate gunfire but there was no intention to hit him. Rather, the point was to force him into cover or slow him down so they could catch up. Not a bad plan indeed if they haven't been going like this since the chase began.
A half-built apartment building under construction lay ahead of them while the Hellborn rushed forward and jumped ahead. The husband quickly peered over the edge, only to see his target on an ascending construction crane, firing a revolver in his direction. As the bullets whistled past his head with the imp ducking for his own sake, his wife called him from behind. "Throw me!"
"What?" He wondered, absolutely confused as turned around to find his beloved carrying her battle axe and grabbed his hands.
"Spin me around and throw me."
The assassin didn't know what she had in store for him; yet, he complied without hesitation. Holstering his sidearm, he began to plant one foot in the concrete while the other acted as a pivot, pushing the momentum even further with each kick. His head tried to make sense of his surroundings, only to find the world in a blur save for Millie's eager laughing gaining his full attention.
"Let go!" The timing was perfect as Moxxie released his hold on her hands and threw the crazed berserker into the air. "You're not getting away."
Once he let her go, his stomach growled and a burning sensation grew from within his lungs. He puked over the side of the building, watching as his guts hurled his insides out and landed upon some unfortunate passerby below. His mind calmed down before looking ahead and saw his wife descend upon an arrogant bastard with an overhead swing. "That's my girl."
The two fought in a fierce and destructive duel among the construction crane. Steel clashed with the Hellborn's tail while parts of the structure were scratched and chipped away. The user swung back and forth in his control room, attempting to thwart the intruders from his work. Despite the distance, he brandished his pistol and knelt. He leaned forward, covering his knee with his arm while resting the barrel upon his wrist to stabilize the shot of a weapon not meant for this range.
The target pushed his wife back and quickly brandished a lever-action rifle from his coat. He might not hit him but he prayed that he would. With slow and methodical shots, 9mm flew across the street and peppered his concentration. Striker let out his shot, much to Moxxie's horror before the round missed Millie's lithe frame. Then the control room for the construction crane splattered with blood with the arm swiftly turning clockwise towards him.
Brick and glass shattered as the building's structural integrity took the full brunt of the impact. Nonetheless, it connected the imp to the fight as he descended from above and landed gracefully. He closed the distance while loading a new magazine for his pistol and watching his soulmate retrieve her two-headed weapon and swing at the disoriented assassin.
Striker ducked from the blade by mere inches as he performed a low kick and knocked her back. The imp did not hesitate to draw his pistol and fire on him; yet, his target's reflexes were faster. He had quickly spun around and drew a revolver from his belt, firing with swiftness and accuracy. Now that his weapon was gone, Moxxie found himself at his rival's mercy.
"You little shits should have stopped while you had the chance." He remarked before closing the distance and a deathly grip wrapped around the imp's throat. As he gasped for air, his eyes looked up at the cowboy's sadistic expression while being dragged away from his unconscious wife. "I'm going to end this little song and dance between us. Still got a job to finish but maybe I'll give your boss a message starting with you."
His tail snaked around from behind and made a quick stab at the chest. It was painful to have an open wound. Moxxie attempted some form of resistance, trying to pry his captor's clutches off of him but to no avail. A burst of triumphant laughter emanated from the Hellborn before his arm lifted upwards and threw him towards the building where the crane's tip had smashed into a room. Briefly freed, the frail creature braced for the impact before his body found itself smashed through a glass window. Meanwhile, he was tossed across the floor with cuts and bruises being taken over.
The pain ached while his hand covered his bleeding wound with a whimpering cry. It shouldn't have hurt this bad but he couldn't afford to hold back his emotions. Yet, the structural integrity of the crane and the building groaned with the smashed end descending below a level. The additional destruction didn't matter to him before the sound of moved rubble grabbed his attention, causing him to sit upright to face his fate.
He was taken by complete surprise when Millie flew in through the very same window he went through. This time, gunfire echoed from outside while her battle axe rested atop her shoulders. When she saw his current state, she gasped with horror before rushing to his side and him granting his beloved a smile. "You're hurt! We have to stop the chase and get you to a hospital."
"What about Striker? He shot Prince Stolas and I did mean to help Blitz with that." Moxxie replied, reminding her about the relationship they had with their company boss and patron.
"Not like this. There's always a next time." She stated as her hand cupped his cheek with a warm smile. Then the sound of footsteps tapping against the metal came closer. "He's coming. We'll have to hide somewhere."
Millie's left arm was wrapped around her weapon's shaft before both hands pulled the husband off the blue carpet floor littered with glass and splatters of blood. This strength was not one he expected but he was not one to complain as she rushed out of the room and navigated through the hallways. As he was carried in her arms, she took him into an elevator and descended towards the main floor. It was not like them to fail Blitzo but maybe if their luck turned for the better, they could continue. What was certain was the disappointment that he couldn't perform his end of the promise.
The building shook, likely from the destruction from their havoc. Nonetheless, they had to get out if the foundations collapsed and took the married couple down with them. As the elevator decelerated and gravity pushed against their bodies, they heard some loud clattering of metal reverberate from above. Then something broke bringing them downward in a complete rush.
"Hang on!" His wife screamed while using her free hand to take hold of the railings close to them.
A loud slam knocked them up into the air before the lights flickered out and the sliding doors busted open. After they landed on the marble, Millie carried him out and entered their destination. Moxxie thanked his lucky stars that this wasn't the end of them, yet.
They found themselves standing in the apartment basement as lights flickered and clouds of kicked-up dust began to settle. What was before them seemed impossible.
Various furniture littered the room from tables containing an organized array of firearms to planning boards containing dozens upon dozens of pinned paperwork. It wouldn't have been out of place in the dark realm if it wasn't for the occupants themselves. Here, humans were found in the least likely place that he could imagine and have subverted his expectations. What exactly were they doing down here?
One of the men turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Shit, we've been spotted!"
They didn't get a chance to react when two darts landed on the couple. Moxxie pulled out the dart that landed on his arm. A strange sensation began to weaken his control over his body while his wife stumbled to the ground and her weapon clattered onto the ground. "Millie? Millie!" He reached for the beloved and turned the imp on her side, only to find a dart on her thigh. With every second, he couldn't help himself from falling asleep while looking around at the humans in the room.
A pair of footsteps approached the tired husband while he tried to reach for his gun. He turned to the approaching individual to find a blonde-haired human in a black uniform and Kevlar armor. In his hands was a break-action tranquilizer gun he popped the back of the barrels and loaded two more shots inside. Then he spoke with a Southern accent during the reload time. "You've seen too much."
Collin had found himself floating through the offices of the Department of Purgatory after a good night's rest. Although C.H.E.R.U.B would never take him back as another one of their employees, he was relieved to finally be back on Heavenside. That relief was bittersweet since his colleagues were still out in one of the mortal worlds. Perhaps this organization would truly return them to the fold of the Holy Father.
Seeing the operations underneath the purview of Archangel Azrael was different than what he expected. He had expected the saved and redeemed to be working entirely behind a cubicle. Here, they had proven him wrong with how busy their ranks were when it came to the affairs of the afterlife post-death. Recreation floors for bureaucrats and investigators to relax and recover from stressful engagements to operation rooms and armories containing men and women on par with the soldiery of the Holy Army. One wonders what preparations and contingencies that they had in store for themselves.
The cherub made his way to the office of the man who personally rescued him from the depths of the dark realm and the company of the Princess of Hell. He opened the door and entered, finding unorganized piles of papers stacked atop the man's desk. Unlike his previous encounter with the saved, he was wearing a pair of slacks and a cotton white shirt with a black tie. Where his face was encased by a sealed helmet with glowing-red eye sockets, dark spots grew underneath his eyes.
He groaned at the workload laid before him until he turned his gaze upon the Heavenborn. "Glad to be back from the other side?"
"You called for me?" Collin asked as he shifted around in the man's office and fluttered to sit in the empty chair across from him.
"Yep, I need to break things down for you," Tony answered, leaning forward and his upper body halfway across his desk. "As of right now, Azrael is currently reassigning assets to a particular investigation of ours. I can't tell you much about it; however, what I can say is that it's enough to make him busy for the time being before he'll convince C.H.E.R.U.B to let you back in. Which means, you're either stuck with us or free to leave our headquarters until we notify your employment."
They would really go out of their way for him? When compared to his workplace, even Deerie wasn't that considerate when came to those working under her. He was willing to accept such a fine offer as the only reason he would remain in this building was one single person who visited the injured at the hospital. Thinking about that mere acquaintance, it was not his place to ask but given how the saved across from him went through the effort, perhaps he would be understandable. "Just curious, do you know a redeemed by the name of Artyom? He works for the department."
"I do know an Artyom. Any descriptions that you can give? We run through countless names so you need to be very specific." He replied but it was an understandable reason. They were organized; yet, such information flow was like that of a river or a stream. It would be unreasonable to ask him to read his mind.
"Of course. The first time I met him was at a hospital when C.H.E.R.U.B visited some hurt souls. My colleagues and I wanted to brighten their day since they were stuck in there."
The man's head seemed to be piqued with interest and was about to speak until his voice hesitated and reluctance took over. His expression darkened while his hand cupped his chin. "Afraid to say that I can't answer that."
"Uh, why not?" It was concerning that he wouldn't speak much about the subject matter.
"I'm afraid that he's on a mission, one way too close to the chest to tell you. My apologies but this is the sort of shit that is too damn classified for the Heavenborn."
He was taken aback by the response but maybe it didn't matter. "I suppose it was too much to ask. He seemed like a nice fella."
"He is." Tony chuckled as he shared his thoughts. "Unfortunately, it's a personal issue and he would agree with me that Artyom wouldn't want you near him whatsoever. Take my word on this."
A mixture of excitement and terror emanated from within the existence of Princess Charlie "Magne" Morningstar. Her mind did not stop thinking about last night when she encountered someone from Heaven. For the first time, she had felt one leap forward to obtaining her goal by contacting them. What truly dampened her was the way the man spoke about her father in a manner that even the oldest of Hellborn in the royal court would never do - openly direct negative attention towards Lucifer as if he were the problem. She knew that her father disapproved of this dream as a mere delusion but perhaps there was something more to him than his royal prerogative would never showcase.
She sat behind her work desk and contemplated her next decisions. Redeeming the sinners was the purpose behind the Hazbin Hotel. No matter the machinations of the Radio Demon or the views of her parent, the princess would see this building work. Yet, the groundwork of saving the damned required her mind to ask the ruler of the Dark Realm thanks to that one incident with the Department of Purgatory. Brandishing her phone, Charlie scrolled through her contacts and was ready to call dad until a whisper of hesitation took over. How would he react to such an encounter since the relationship between him and those who ordered the exterminators down here was tense every year?
A bottomless pit grew within her stomach as anticipation followed. Tapping the call symbol, the line rang while her mind ran through several responses for when he'd pick up. "Here goes nothing."
"Hello?" Caller identification picked up and Lucifer's firm voice acknowledged her signal. "Charlotte, why are you calling me? You know that I am a busy king. If you want something to get my attention, go to your mother."
"Dad, last night, I met people from something called the Department of Purgatory. Do you know anything about them?" She replied, hoping the information would sink in.
There was a brief pause of silence as the noise of his nostrils flared. Was he angry and willing to voice his displeasure? The mystery fell apart when father spoke in a more serious tone. "Don't go anywhere. This will take me a minute."
Charlie felt a cold chill throughout her office as shadows crept from the far reaches of her gaze. She had heard the stories of the King of Hell from those working under him but to experience it herself was a different. As the temperature continued to drop, she caught a glimpse of her hot breath before the darkness dissipated in the blink of an eye. The fallen archangel stood at the center of the room with a hand extending out to and resting upon the hilt of an apple cane while the other hand held a phone before being slipped into his pocket.
"Tell me what happened." He ordered.
The princess straightened her back after witnessing the sudden appearance of her father as she recollected her encounter from last night. "They were actually not there for me but for a few people who didn't belong in Hell - a cherub and two human demon hunters."
He turned around and looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "I suppose that is much more reasonable than I expected," Lucifer remarked before approaching a chair across her desk and taking a seat. With one leg folded over another, his hands and cane rested atop the white lap. "That is the first they've openly revealed themselves in such a manner."
"What do you mean by that?" It was a question that was filled with a genuine curiosity as her knowledge of Heaven was little more than figments of fiction and dreams. Perhaps his insights would grant her a look into the people who order the exterminators to descend from above. "It's the first time that I've ever met with them."
"If they openly revealed themselves in that manner, then it must have been important. Nonetheless, you should steer clear from their lot for the time being." Her dad replied with assured conviction.
"I was asked to maintain their secret but their leader, Tony, said that you might explain something about how they have to maintain their secrecy."
She saw him smile gleefully at the sentence and let out a chuckle. "They're afraid of me. That is all there is to it. Ever since my final battle against the armies of Heaven, they have been hesitant to seek out my wrath lest I find an excuse to go to war with them once more. Fortunately, Azrael is quite reasonable when it comes to letting his Department of Heaven earn my ire."
"Azrael?" The name was new to her ears while seeing the ruler of Hell express his contentment with the individual in question. "Who is that?"
"The Archangel of Death and the head of the Department of Purgatory. He is my brother… and your uncle."
"This is the first time I've ever heard about him. How come you've never told me about your family in Heaven?"
He looked down at the floor and revealed an expression that Charlie had not seen him convey ever since she was born. Saddened eyes stared all while the grip around his cane began to tighten. Then he followed it up with a deep breath. "There was no point. It's unlikely that I'll ever get a chance to introduce you to them."
"Perhaps there is a possibility it could happen." The king began to laugh but she knew what it was - a sign of mockery for her suggestion just like how she thought about the hotel's purpose.
"Charlotte, I admire your optimism. It is the most lovable and sometimes difficult trait to deal with at times." The Fallen Archangel stood up from his chair and stood by the edge of her desk. "I killed members of my family on behalf of loving your mother. It is a sin of mine that I must bear with since time immemorial to the final hour when Raphael heralds the ending of existence."
She shook her head at the idea her father spawned from his lips. Her father was prideful and ruthlessly honest in his beliefs but he also had admirable traits as well. The former angel was loving enough to her mother and open enough to let his daughter stand on her own opinions. "I can't imagine what it's like to carry that weight on your shoulders. I'd be a liar if I said I understood what you felt."
"It is fine. These are just a musings of being a Fallen Archangel."
"Dad," Charlie began, hoping her father would spill more information about Heaven itself. The only way she could appeal to him was through his emotions. "Do you miss being there? You know, before you fell?"
He strolled past her and stood before a window, looking up at the sky. She joined him at his side but a glance grabbed his eyes focused on the white dot in the sky. "Indeed, I do. It was a wonderful place, where one could find everlasting happiness. Some of the habits I've brought upon you came from dotting over your uncles after work."
The former servant of the Holy Father paused as his hands were placed behind his back.
"Your hotel could work if some see things your way but until they change their minds on me, redeeming a sinner would never happen. Our family is their everlasting shame, one that has yet to be corrected."
The rendezvous didn't take too long. Two Polis Rangers found themselves standing together in a park with both overlooking a fountain at its center. As the Hellborn and sinner passed by with their lives, the Russians took great comfort in enjoying the sight of lush green and the pure blue waters running through the streams. Artyom pulled out a pack of cigarettes and presented an opportunity over to him.
Hunter reached out to slip one from its place before brandishing his lighter. After he lit his cigarette, the veteran glanced over from his friend raising his gas mask and eagerly placing one between his teeth enveloped in blue flames. The duo began to smoke, inhaling much into their bodies and enduring the burning sensation within their lungs. Much has changed since his death at the hands of the Dark Ones, the boy he left behind with eyes full of glimmering hope was no longer the person he once knew. Now he was damned forever like him in the pits of Hell with the only comfort being his company.
A cold wind swept through with a chill that only they could be comfortable in. Hell's weather shouldn't have dropped that low but it didn't take long for either to adjust accordingly. All that was left was an honest conversation with one another, just like old times. "So, have things been since we've last seen each other?"
"Fine, I guess," Artyom replied nonchalantly as his gloved hand pulled out the cigarette. "I ended up sleeping with two women last night if that is any worthwhile news."
"What?"
That was new to his ears. He had known him to be more introverted than most kids; especially, with the PTSD that he carried since his younger years. Hunter didn't imagine his sex life to be exciting but even he was taken aback by how calm he was at mentioning that piece of information. "Knew that you'd say that. Let's just say I ended up getting intimate with a sinner and a succubus by the name of Verosika Mayday."
"You absolute dog!" He cried out with excitement and laughter as he grabbed the man by the back of his collar and pulled him close. This was the sort of talk that would fit in the ranks of the Spartan Order despite Colonel Mel'nikov's insistence on maintaining a professional demeanor. Nonetheless, he was proud of his fellow man's sexual prowess. "There has to be a story behind that."
"Eh, it's somewhat personal. Maybe another time but maybe we should just focus on us hanging out."
"Then how are things working out for you in Hell? I presume that you'd be enjoying your new life here." Everyone had their plans as they had no time to endure the suffering of the Dark Realm.
Artyom leaned against the railing overlooking the cliffside. His fingers interlocked both hands together while his gaze fell upon the denizens below. "To say it's strange would be too simple. I feel like I've been given a new chance at life when compared to the one I left behind as if it didn't count. One could say this place saved me from a pseudo purgatory that was our lives."
"What's with you bringing the philosophy on me?" That kind of conversation invoked the memories he had with his friend's stepfather, whose personal beliefs were challenged and debated against whenever Hunter paid Exhibition Station a visit. Rare was it to find people with such views; however, they were quite productive at engaging the mind rather than facing off the madness in absolute silence. "Sounds like you have a lot on your mind."
"You have no idea. Ever since I took on that quest to bring your message to the colonel, things… weird things happened to me. It's hard to describe those events, only that it felt as if I was destined to follow a path that was only meant for me and no one else. My death being nothing more than catharsis of being free of what fate had in store for life in the post-apocalypse - a curse being lifted off my shoulders."
He placed his hand on the man's shoulder as a manner of reassurance. This was the only fate for men like them. "We were soldiers of the Order. It was bound to happen for the duty only we could carry to the grave. At the very least, you can find some measure of comfort that it was enough."
"Maybe," The younger man replied with a deep exhale from his nose, "There are times that I've wished I could have done more."
"You did all that you were asked to do. The only ounce of failure is when you refuse to perform."
A white food truck drove to the middle of the park with the sound of child-like tunes being played from its speakers. Atop its roof was a plastic effigy of ice cream in a waffle cone while children and their parents approached it with glee and joy. "Is that an ice cream truck?"
"Yep," Hunter hastily answered with a proud smile. He remembered the time when the boy he first encountered once wished to have ice cream for his birthday; yet, no one could fulfill his wish. If there was something called fate, it had a twisted sense of humor, "I'm in the mood for it. Why don't you head down there and fetch some for the both of us?"
"No need to tell me twice." Artyom stepped back from the railing and walked over to the set of stairs to their right, descending further into the park with the veteran watching over him.
Minutes passed until his phone beeped, causing him to reach and see what kind of notification he was given. After brandishing the device into his hand, the former Polis Ranger recognized the ID number before looking around to see if there were any passing witnesses nearby. Fortunately for him, there were none as he unlocked it and looked into his messages. He had been given a priority hunt-and-kill mission, which he wouldn't have minded doing so long as it absolved his sins and those of his girlfriend. Hunter downloaded the PDF file to at least get a quick look at what he was up against.
His heart stopped after the process was over. The first image his eyes caught was Artyom's Hell form while he was casually conversing with a sinner and a succubus at what appeared to be a concert. He was being tasked with killing someone close to him and he grew worried about the prospects of their next encounter. If Artyom was this supposed traitor to God's will maybe there was still room for mercy if he convinced his superiors to allow him a chance to save him. He would need to meet with Graves and Adam on this matter as soon as possible.
The Isra teleporter brought Tony to the safe house where Uhlman and his team resided. They were down a few helpers as the director of the FBC and the associate from KronoteK had returned to their respective organizations after the missing weapons shipment was returned to safer hands. It was rare to have these joint operations and hopefully, the servants of Heaven wouldn't have to call upon them again to assist in their affairs. Especially, when it came to the reality that the perpetrators of the shipment hijacking came from the ranks of the Holy Army. This was to be an internal matter to be dealt with in-house before the potential of the War in Heaven sparked off the largest powderkeg in the making.
He walked through the safehouse and made his way to the office room while ignoring the other investigators minding or relaxing on their own time. The pressure of disaster and failure is averted albeit briefly on his conscious. As he entered, Uhlman sat behind his desk typing on a computer monitor before looking up from the screen and acknowledging the presence of his guest. "What's up? You didn't give me a call."
There was good reason for that as he wanted to know the situation about this team's relationship with the newfound policies of sticking close to their partners. The hunters of the department's investigators were still out there and he wanted any sure update that the man tasked with protecting the princess of Hell had his protection. "Do you have someone looking out for Artyom?"
"Yes," He answered standing up from his chair, "Pavel is tasked with watching over my comrade and the rest of us are watching over our communist buddy."
"Good." It was a relief to hear his subordinate's report as the symbolic weight on his shoulders felt like they were lifted.
"Rumors are going around that you broke department policy regarding our secrecy to the Hellborn and sinners. Please tell me it ain't true."
The news of his latest actions seemed to have traveled quickly; although, Tony wasn't happy about it. He had broken one of the most important pillars of their workplace, one that typically resulted in the investigators closing off an area while the Gendarmes performed a rather controversial policy of 'take no witnesses, leave no survivors' approach. The only factor that kept him from enforcing it, was the presence of the Princess of Hell. "Unfortunately, it is. Problem is that Miss Charlotte and her company are too high on the totem pole to usually silence."
"So it's a matter of how long it will take until the rest of the dark realm figures us out." Observed the Russian as his hand reached for the goatee surrounding his mouth and brushed it with his fingers.
"That's a big if, Uhlman," He countered while joining the man on his side of the table, looking into the computer screen on the desk, "I asked her to promise that she won't blow the lid."
A great chuckle emerged while the man shook his head. "Do you really think she'll hold her end of the deal? You're putting a lot of faith in someone who could break out to the news and tell of her interactions with the so-called servants of Heaven."
"I would think so. The princess isn't like the others and if she holds some decent principles to believe that a sinner in Hell can be redeemed so openly, what could keep her back?" His hands slipped into his pockets enjoying the leisurely conversation about one of the few denizens of Hell that knew of his identity.
"She'll want to know if we can sanctify the hotel grounds and ask us to redeem her people. If that televised interview was anything to go by, she certainly push for it and make sure it has results. The Council and her father won't like it."
There was a reason why Tony kept visiting this man's safe house. He was one of his most trusted investigator outfits that could handle issues that were outside their purview such as the weapons shipment. Yet, Uhlman was one perspective from a bureaucratic machine that couldn't comprehend the various interest groups the Department of Purgatory had to placate. "Believe me, I know who likes what and who doesn't in my job. There's a reason why Azrael put me in charge."
"Chuvak," The Russian took two steps back with his palms raised and open, gesturing his mistake, "I mean no offense. Just voicing my opinion that this could be problematic for everyone involved if the princess wants her dreams to be true."
Crimson sat alone at his table. The great imp mob boss liked his own company and the thoughts that worked tirelessly throughout all of Greed to make sure his family stayed strong but influential through wealth alone. Yet, all of his efforts to obtain this achievement involved great sacrifice and all of his connections and assets were still not enough to sate his hunger for the power his position granted. His one great shame was the child he once tried to charm into becoming the man he always wanted him to be. Time began to tell that his son was a faggot of the highest order, even going so far as to openly display those affections within the ranks of the family. That all changed when his partner and bodyguard failed to look out for him and left him behind at a bank heist. Chaz would pay and his bones would be placed upon the mantlepieces that hung from the surrounding walls but the dumbass somehow had the means to make the impfather rich if he kept him alive.
He heard a door behind him swing open and it only drew his absolute ire. These were the times when he would think to himself and for someone to breach his inner thoughts at the worst time better have a good reason unless his men wanted his full wrath. "I'm going to give you ten fucking seconds to leave me the fuck alone unless you have something important to tell me."
"Oh, boy do I have a Hell of a proposal for you." Spoke the tone of a southern man looking to grab his attention. The imp rose from his seat and turned around, finding a man standing in the doorway in a military uniform. His clothes and armored vests were clad in black as his face remained hidden underneath a balaclava mask. The eyes were hidden away underneath red-tinted goggles.
"How did you get into my house?"
It was baffling that someone interrupted his internal thoughts but it was also insulting that this stranger had the gall to grab his full attention by breaking inside the manor. Yet, the man showed no other indication as his hands held onto the straps from his kevlar vest. "That's a question I ain't here to answer. What I am here for is a favor, one you're willing to carry out." The stranger stated before his lips let out a pop underneath the fabric. "My boss wants you to earn the attention of a Stella and a Paimon in return for a sweet deal we got for ya."
His eyes stared at the intruder's hidden gaze. The intuition that kept the family afloat in struggling times wanted him to think this situation threw. Whoever this man was, he liked to think he had his own weight to throw around. "What do I get in return for helping you?"
"Does a Moxxie ring any bells to you? I have him in my custody and it would be nice to be rid of him so long as you help me."
"You found my kid?" He had spent a fortune on informants to find the one person who even reminded himself of his wife. Yet, none of them had turned up anything useful until now. "How?"
The stranger let out an evil laugh as he raised his head back. "Do you believe in coincidence or providence? Pick one - it doesn't matter. One thing led to another and now I'm here to give you a one-time deal of a lifetime. You either take it or leave it. You're choice."
"You drive a hard bargain. Is there anything else you'd want to tell me before you hand my brat over?" There had to be strings. They always existed in this part of Hell.
"No strings attached but there is a bonus as an incentive of mine."
He took two steps back and reached his hand out for an object out of view. As he retracted his hand, there was a briefcase being presented before the imp father, who flipped the locks off and opened what was inside. His eyes peered forward and saw the fat stacks of green hard cash perfectly organized. "So what do you want me to do to earn a couple of bluebloods' attention?"
"Your son has a patron," said the stranger as he handed the money over to the head of the family, "He goes by the name of Prince Stolas. If you kidnap him and call Princess Stella, her brother, or even her father-in-law, your son will be handed over. You got that?"
"Crystal."
"Good." Not a word was spoken as the stranger disappeared in a brief flash that only existed for a few seconds. Yet, Crimson was left with more questions than what he wanted to deal with. More money was good to make things easy for the family but now he felt like he made the worse deal compared to many he made in this life.
MrSadLad: Yeah, it's more about feeling and also the tone of it's voice.