"Adam is dead. Your deal is done, and I'm in charge now. Your brat is threatening the very foundation of Heaven, and if you want to stay here, you're going down there and stopping that bitch. You understand me," Lute loomed over the woman lounging on the beach, "Lilith?"

The queen of Hell glowered at the exorcist invading her space. The bloody halo at her feet sparkled in the sand. She wondered if she could find a way to harness it for herself. That misogynist had taken too much from her, and it would be so satisfying to use his own holy strength against his friends. If her daughter had had a hand in slaying him, she was nothing short of proud.

"You have no authority over me, girl," she challenged, not even bothering to remove her sunglasses. "If my deal with Adam broke when he died, then I wouldn't still be here." She took a sip of wine, "What the fuck happened to your arm?"

"Your cunt daughter's blasphemous little girlfriend happened. And their destruction will only get worse if you don't get your ass down there and fix this."

Lilith had put up with Lute overstepping her power for the last seven years only due to Adam's support behind her, but if he was gone, Lute had nothing to stand on. "Good for her," Lilith stated simply.

Lute did not like that. "Get your ass down there right now or I'll cut you apart here and now," She threatened, pressing an angelic blade to the demon queen's throat.

"Do it, then," Lilith dared. They both knew It was an empty threat that could easily result in getting Lute cast out, which her pride would never let her risk. Lilith was untouchable, and Lute hated it.

The exorcist growled in anger, hating her inability to control this vile demon. First feeling helpless to save Adam and now unable to take it out on anyone, she needed to release her hurt on something. She grabbed the only thing within reach on the entire shore and threw it as hard as she could into the shining ocean waters.

A light breeze kissed her cheeks as she watched Adam's halo skip a few times before sinking into the watery depths. He'd been the greatest asshole she'd ever had the honor of knowing, and her grief at his loss was a wound far worse than any lost limb. She'd happily give her other arm to get him back, but once a soul was slain with an angelic weapon, there was no returning, no matter how ancient or powerful they'd been.

Lilith wanted to ask for details on the battle, but as little as she respected Lute, she knew she'd be the wrong person to ask. Once Lute finally stormed off, Lilith resolved to check Hell's news stations. She scrolled through her phone, looking for footage of the battle. There was plenty of it.

She watched the replay of her husband beating the shit out of Adam at least a dozen times. It brought a smug smile to her face. That prick had had it coming, and she was glad someone filmed it. She saved it to her device for her… private fun time… later that night. After watching the fight from seemingly every angle possible, she pocketed her phone and snapped her fingers, pulling her pet overlord out of his wrecked radio station. He did not look happy.

He was bleeding from Adam's strike and looked ready to bite her hand off. She wasn't worried. He couldn't hurt her, no matter how much he wanted to. She owned him. He didn't speak, only snarled at her through his eternal smile, a few manic laughs bursting out here and there in his upset state. She would be fascinated to spend a day in this odd man's mind.

"Take off your shirt," Lilith demanded, ignoring the angry laughter, "Let me see that gash."

Alastor generally liked most women, but he hated this one. The humiliation of unclogging toilets and fixing walls for some run-down hotel when he should rightfully be climbing up Hell's hierarchy was infuriating. It took everything he had to make it seem like he'd wanted to be there. Nonetheless, he obeyed. He had no choice. Removing the layers of clothing that had all been sliced clean through, he revealed a gaping wound gushing hot blood. It wasn't healing as fast as a normal cut would have. Adam had struck him with an angelic weapon, and while it was possible to survive, they did much more damage than any run-of-the-mill knife.

"That looks serious," Lilith summoned a needle and thread and began stitching Alastor back together. "At least it missed your vitals, but it'll take a few weeks to heal." She looked at his livid face, "From what I've seen, you've been doing a good job protecting my daughter. When this is fixed, you're going right back down there to continue helping her."

Alastor was tempted to reveal his deal with Charlie right then, but he chose to bide his time. He needed to find the right opportunity to use that precious leverage, or he'd risk overplaying his hand. Lilith might kill him if she thought Alastor was a threat to her daughter, no matter how useful or powerful he was. If he wanted freedom, he couldn't tell her until he had found the perfect favor from Charlie that would set him loose. He wanted to tear the queen's throat out.

"There you go," Lilith finished stitching the wound shut, "Now, while that heals, I've got another job for you."

"What the hell else could you possibly want?"

"You're going swimming. You're going to fish Adam's halo out of the ocean and bring it to me."

"You've got to be joking."

"That way. Don't come back until you've found it," Lilith ordered, taking another sip of wine and sitting back in her chair, enjoying the sunshine. The Radio Demon grit his sharp teeth, removed his shoes, and began wading into the sea. His blood seeped out of the wound regardless of the stitches, pooling around him in the clear waters.

"Oh, and Alastor," Lilith warned, "If you tell anyone about this, I will tear the teeth out of that smirking mouth of yours and wear them as a necklace."

He believed her.

After Alastor retrieved the halo and surrendered it to Lilith, she nursed him back to health properly, then sent him back to Hell where he'd found the freshly rebuilt hotel. They'd included a radio tower for him. Charlie had taken great care to build it just like his old one. Livid as he was at being forced to help the princess with her silly little hotel, at least the company wasn't awful. It made the chore less unpleasant. And even though it had only started off as an excuse to explain his presence there, it WAS rather entertaining.

He pretended to be there willingly, as he had done from day one. When Elida showed up, his first hope was that she could be the next piece on the gameboard to rid himself of Lilith. As he got to know her, that idea kept tickling his mind. He might not even have to force her to do it, she seemed like the kind of person who might help him just because he asked. But asking would force him to reveal the deal he was bound by, and that was a dangerous move. She might find a way to use that against him if he read her wrong. He would need a way to ensure she kept her mouth shut. In the meantime, he needed to get closer to her, and that involved dance lessons.

"Eyes up here, darling, it's rude to stare at your partner's feet," He lifted her face for the twentieth time that day.

"Sorry, I just don't know what I'm doing," she replied, eyes once again drifting down to the ground.

He placed a sharp finger under her chin, forcing her to look at his eyes. "If you practice with your gaze on the ground, you're going to perform the same way. It's good manners to look your dance partner in the eyes. Trust your feet to do what you tell them and trust your partner to lead."

"What if I end up with a partner that can't lead," Elida asked, forcing herself not to look back at the ground again.

"Then they are a very poor partner, indeed. I will be starting you off at the event, which will show the other guests that so long as the person you're dancing with is competent, you're more than capable. That way, if you end up with someone weaker, the onlookers won't blame you for anything going wrong."

Elida had her wings tucked in, which allowed Alastor to twirl her around as much as needed without getting a face full of silky blue feathers. "One two three, one two three, and dip, that's it, well done." She was catching on.

"The more I think about trying this in front of a bunch of strangers the more nervous I get," Elida admitted. They had been practicing in front of the hotel guests, but Elida was already acquainted with them by now, so she didn't care if they watched her fall over. None of them were paying any attention anyway.

Alastor continued the dance. She'd need to be able to remember the steps during any conversation when the day came. "That's normal, dear, but I'm sure you'll do swell. You don't seem the type to let fear control you."

"No, I'm not, but anxiety can cause involuntary performance issues," She replied through another twirl.

"Then take a confidence potion. That's what they're for, aren't they?" He'd been slowly working his way through her potions, tasting them one at a time here and there to see what they did. They were impressively effective. He refused to touch the aphrodisiacs.

"I wish I hadn't agreed to go, honestly. There's so much to do here, a party feels a bit superfluous and vain."

"Just think of it as a diplomatic event where you can get to know your Hellish hosts. You're an ambassador; so be an ambassador. In fact, I'd say this event is pivotal to your mission. The cannibals stood with us in the battle against the exorcists, so getting on their good side is a great start to help ease the animosity between our two realms, wouldn't you say?"

Elida considered that. Alastor always seemed to find good points when they spoke. It made her think, and it was a refreshing change to the small talk so many people never managed to get past. She supposed he'd had to develop that skill as a radio host. You could only get so far in a podcast when talking about the weather.

"I suppose I can do that," She agreed. "Will anyone important be there?"

"Why, myself of course! Ha ha ha!"

She nudged his shoulder, "You know what I meant."

"Don't you worry, darling, I'll give you the full rundown. But for now, kindly remove your hoof from the top of my shoe."

She obliged, face once again dropping to the ground. Alastor pinched her chin and tilted it back up. She needed to break that habit and quickly. "Do I need to put a metal spike on your neck, dear, or can you keep your eyes upward?" He was joking, but she idly wondered if that method might actually help.

"Only if you have a sparkly one that I can pretend is a necklace," she replied.

"Oh of course, I'll commission the jeweler right away," he quipped back.

She concentrated extra hard on maintaining eye contact while her feet stumbled beneath her. Alastor's toes would be bloody stumps by now if he had any. Fortunately, the front half of his shoes were more for show than function. Well, that and tap-dancing. He'd need to have them shined by the end of this, though.

Alastor watched her face scrunch up as she willed her eyes to stay upward. She was amusingly expressive when she wasn't in businesswoman-mode. If he didn't know she was resisting the urge to look down again, he'd assume she was glaring at him. She wasn't.

After a while of determined staring, Elida found her hooves more willing to comply with her demands, following the cues her dance partner gave. Alastor saw her expression slowly relax while she got used to the movements, and only ended the lesson after he felt confident that the habit would stick.

"We'll make a dancer out of you yet," he declared, before offering a small bow, "It's customary to bow, or in your case curtsey, after a dance concludes."

Elida did so. She found herself a bit disappointed that the lesson was over. It might be a learning curve, but she was having fun developing a new skill. Alastor had been patient with her even when she kept kicking his shins and tripping over her own feet. She was graceful when she danced around a fire, or moved freely to music on her own, but adding a partner to the mix was throwing her off.

The radio demon readjusted his monocle and settled down onto a chair, picking up a newspaper from that morning. She couldn't tell if his 1930's habits were a stylistic choice or if he really just preferred things that way. It could be a nostalgia thing, or just a commitment to his personal brand. His perpetual smile was casual and relaxed today.

Elida was learning to read his micro expressions the more time they spent together. The key to his thoughts were found in his eyes, which explained why people were unable guess what he'd do at any given time. He had a terrifying reputation, so no one wanted to look him in the eye. People were too distracted by the creepy grin and witty wordplay. But his eyes were the windows to his soul, and she was figuring out how to identify what every squint and eyebrow signified. He was content today, and clearly enjoyed dancing, even if she hadn't learned her part quite yet.

Elida went to find Charlie to go over a lesson plan she'd wanted help with. They sat down, working through the finer points and discussing what was and wasn't working. After videos of Angel Dust's ascension went viral, the hotel guests really buckled down, putting in a better effort than Charlie could have ever hoped. Elida expected that people would begin ascending in droves in a matter of weeks, especially with how many of them were making use of her potions. Elida ended up hiring three of her sisters to help with brewing to keep up with the demand. It was a fantastic problem to have, and she loved it.

"Charlie, guess who's here," Vaggie came by, a shorter man in a white hat following behind her. He looked just like Charlie.

"Dad!" She stood up and leaped into his arms, giving him a gigantic hug.

"Sorry I couldn't get here when I said, I got a bit held up," he explained, "Hell has been going nuts with everything going on, and it's been… whew it's been a lot."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, "It's okay Dad, I'm glad you could make it." She turned to Elida, who shood up and offered a courteous bow.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person, your majesty," she used her best official business voice, "Charlie has told me all about you." She held out a hand.

Lucifer reluctantly shook it, hesitating a bit, "My daughter says you've been a big help."

"Oh, she gets all the credit," Elida assured, "I've been more of an assistant than anything else. She's doing a great job."

Charlie blushed at the praise, "Oh, come on, without your help we never could have filled this many rooms."

"Actually, your grace, I wondered if I might discuss something with you," Elida pulled tablet out of thin air, "If that's okay? It shouldn't take too long; I've already prepared a short presentation to save time."

He would rather spend the day with Charlie, but the situation with Heaven was tense, so he figured he'd at least talk to their ambassador if it meant it could keep them from sending another army at his daughter. "Uh, Okay, sure."

"Oh, you're going to love this," Charlie mentioned. They had worked on it together.

Elida showed Lucifer a few slides showing some statistics and graphs, explaining what they meant. It only took about five minutes. "So, as you can see, the tension with the uprising souls could be soothed if they were allowed to roam a bit more. Extra space would ease the burden of overpopulation in the pride ring, and having the human souls more spread out would help me to convince the Heavenly council that the chances of war are decreasing due to Charlie's efforts. Their support is critical in my ability to remain here and help. They track every soul coming in and out of both realms, so the changes would be easy for them to notice. What do you think?"

Lucifer hadn't come prepared for someone to show up with evidence and logic. Usually, Heaven just declared what they wanted to do and punished anyone who didn't want to cooperate. What Elida was asking was big, but she had valid reasoning, and Charlie seemed to want him to agree to her idea. Still, he was wary around angels for a reason, "I don't know. Sinners are confined to the pride ring for a reason."

"Of course, take all the time you need to think about it. I'd be happy to go further in depth later on, once you've had time to consider it. I would love to hear the reasoning behind the restriction. Could we set up an official meeting where you'll have a chance to be more prepared for a discussion?" Elida didn't want to push too hard. This man had some serous trauma with angels, and he needed to be handled delicately. And frankly, he was here to visit his daughter, not talk politics.

"Come on Dad, Elida doesn't bite. She's trying to help," Charlie encouraged.

He sighed, not wanting his little girl to feel unsupported, "Alright, but we can set it up later. It was nice to meet you, ma'am." He turned away, dismissing any chance of further conversation and walking off to spend some time with the most important person in his life.

Elida smiled as she watched them walk away. Charlie looked just like him. She wondered how much of what she'd been told about Lucifer had been real, and how much of it was cruel propaganda. He seemed alright to her. She liked his funny hat.

Alastor was less willing to give them their space. Baiting Lucifer was just so easy, and Charlie was too sweet to notice he was doing it. She loved all the attention he gave her, accepting every hug, compliment, and expression of fatherly affection.

Elida watched from a distance, catching on to the animosity between the two men with curiosity. Alastor had introduced himself by sticking his staff out and making Lucifer trip, followed by a clearly feigned apology, claiming he hadn't seen him there. She didn't know if Alastor had no survival instincts, or if he was just so confident that his relationship with Charlie would protect him from the king of Hell's retaliation to the disrespect.

She packaged up some of her most popular potions as a gift, presenting it to Lucifer as a gesture of goodwill before he left. "Official meetings aside, how would you feel about a board game night with Charlie and Vaggie next time you're available to visit? No shop talk allowed. I'd love for the chance to get to know who you actually are, as opposed to the version I've been told."

Lucifer gaped at her. No one ever invited him to anything so… mundane. Everyone always wanted something. "Ah," He pursed his lips in thought, "You know what, why the Hell not?" His daughter liked this angel, so he figured he'd at least give her a chance, but he would be keeping an eye on her.

Charlie was thrilled. Alastor was not. Husker didn't give a shit.