"Come on. We're running late."

Anthron donned his jacket as he prepared to exit Tralix's carriage.

Over the last few hours, mother nature had turned her back on them. He found it fitting. The world had antagonized him at the worst possible time. Whether it be rain, snow, or a missing bride, it seemed like he couldn't catch a break.

"Thank you for bringing us," Anthron said to Tralix, handing him a set of souls.

Stella emerged from the car with him. Small puddles rippled beneath their feet as the rain continued. Pentagram City was famous for its dry and arid climate. Anthron watched as storm drains struggled to keep up with the torrential downpour. His fur coat was soon waterlogged as the duo set out for the steps of his father's mansion.

A large set of towers sat at the front of the complex. Pristine and white, Anthron took pride in his father's architectural wonders. Bright blue lights carried themselves from the windows through the volumetrics of the rain, creating an opaque cone of light from each floor of the complex. Executives and staff ran back and forth through the building. Even as the evening crept closer, the cogs kept turning.

"Your father never takes a day off," Stella remarked, "How long has he been here?"

"He left right after dinner," Anthron replied, "So…about a day?"

"And he's mobilizing his forces?"

Anthron opened a glass door at the front of the building and ushered Stella and Tralix inside, "That's what he told me, yes. That's what we're here to discuss."

He waved to his staff as he entered the building. A red carpet ran along the floor with television screens adorning the walls. Phones buzzed, staff yelled, and lights flashed. Anthron had long since become accustomed to the sensory overload that the mansion had become. Being a tech overlord had its perks. Silence was not one of them.

"I apologize for the noise," Anthron said as Stella's face contorted into a grimace, "You'll get used to it. I promise."

The trio stepped into an elevator. A servant pressed the top button and began their ascent to the top floor.

It took all of his energy to keep a smile on his face.

Something was wrong with Octavia. Anthron knew that much. She hadn't been very on board with the idea of marriage. On the other hand, he knew that she was smart. His father had told him so. She had to know what was at stake. Nobody in their right mind would throw away their family name for their own interests. No, she hadn't run away.

Anthron began to suspect the worst.

What if somebody had taken her? With the overlords fighting with each other, it wasn't out of the question that somebody had found out about the marriage and took her hostage? His father wasn't known for keeping secrets. Things got out sometimes. Maybe they had a rat in their staff! He would find them! It was their fault that Octavia was gone! His rightful bride had been taken from him. Somebody had to pay.

"That spoiled BRAT!" Stella huffed as she scratched at one of the elevator walls, "She gets that attitude of hers from her father. If I EVER see her again, I'll give her something to fucking run away from!"

Tralix raised a hand timidly, "Mrs. Goetia, I think we should think this thorough-"

"Shut up!"

"Mrs. Goetia," Anthron said, relaxing his throat to hide the tension in his voice, "I don't know if she ran away. It could be worse than that."

"Like what?" she spat back.

"I mentioned this earlier, but things aren't great in Pentagram City. The overlords have been fighting for power ever since Alastor disappeared. Somebody killed Zeezi today. We haven't had an overlord die in centuries. I'm already hearing people say it was an angelic bullet."

"What does this have to do with my bratty daughter?"

"Well, my father isn't known for secrecy. It's possible that word got out I was marrying Octavia, and another overlord decided to take her to get leverage over us. We're the most powerful family in the city right now. They'd do just about anything to get us out of the picture." Stella's narrowed eyes relaxed for a moment as she rubbed her hands along her temples.

"Alright," Stella sighed, "What if she WAS kidnapped? What do we do about it?"

The elevator dinged as they reached the top floor of the mansion.

"I don't know. My father will have an answer. I promise."

The trio set off down a long hallway lined with golden fountains and glowing screens. Two staffers watched him approach and bowed to him in reverence. Anthron smiled at them as he passed.

"Quite the setup, huh?" Anthron said, approaching the conference room, "Isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes, it is," Stella replied flatly.

Anthron threw open the door as two waiters stopped to offer them glasses of wine.

Sprawled out at the end of the long, gray table were none other than Hell's powerhouse.

Velvette sat on the right end of the table with a phone in her hand. Her pink pigtails shot out from either side of her head, catching the reflection of the screen as she quietly shot a glance up at Anthron, kicking her feet back and forth as if she were on a park bench.

Across from her was Vox. His tall stature was the first thing that he noticed, the man seeming to grow taller each time Anthron saw him. A black suit covered his imposing frame with a red bowtie to boot. Of course, his most defining feature was his television head, casting a neon blue light onto the table and drowning out the soft, lavender lighting that his father had intended.

At the head of the table was the head-honcho. The man himself to whom Anthron owed everything.

His father wore pink sunglasses with a rosy tint. Not sparing a cent on luxury, he wore a large, maroon fur coat, not unlike the one that Anthron had worn. A fluffed-up white collar ran down from the top of his coat and down to the ground, where two imp servants kept it from getting dirty as they handled it with pristine gloves. Red smoke flew from a cigarette in his right hand and formed a heart in the center of the room.

Black leather chairs sat at the opposite end of the table for Anthron and the others. He took his seat at the opposite head of the table. Stella and Tralix followed him shortly thereafter.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Vox boomed, slamming his hands down on the table, "Took you long enough!"
His father spoke in a far softer, more calculated tone, the vowels slipping from his mouth like water down a drain.

"I sent our soldiers out two hours ago," his father said with a smile on his face, "I've ordered them to search everything within five hundred miles of Pentagram City and Imp City. We haven't found anything."

Stella spoke through gritted teeth, "Well, keep trying. This wedding has to happen."

"I've been scanning my cameras all day," Vox replied, "Some of the rioters took them down. Can't see shit."

"Fix them."

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you?"

Static flew from Vox's screen as he finished that last remark. Anthron sat quietly, trying to get a grip on the situation. It wasn't often that he found himself in that conference room. His father didn't usually involve him in those types of affairs.

"Calm down, Vox," his father hissed, "I'll handle this…"

He motioned to Velvette, who pulled up a picture on her phone and handed it to Anthron and Stella.

"We're prepared to make an announcement," his father said, "We'll tell the world that she's missing, and we'll offer a cash reward for anybody who brings her back. If she truly is in the hands of an overlord, we can use her as a bargaining token. They won't hurt if they know we're looking for her."

"Are you sure about that?" Anthron asked, "I want her back safely."

"We all do, Anthron. We have a lot riding on this."

"And I have even more," Stella huffed, "This is the last chance I have to drag my name out of the dust. I want her back by tomorrow."

"As long as those FUCKERS keep messing with my cameras," Vox grumbled, "It's going to be a bit."

"Calm down, Vox. I'll handle this. I always do."

His father's confidence amazed him. Anthron could only dream of being half of the man he was. That commanding posture, his intimidating presence, and his way with words. One day, if he was lucky, he would inherit the family title and finally experience the life of an overlord. He would be unstoppable with Octavia by his side.

"Then why did you call us here?" Stella asked.

"You all have a part to play," his father said, running the tip of his cigarette along Stella's neck, "We're getting her back. Alive."

"How the fuck do we know she's anywhere near Pentagram or Imp City?" Vox asked, "She could've used that stupid book her daddy has."

"She didn't use it," Stella replied, "It was still in the bedroom this morning when we left."

"See?" his father replied, wrapping an arm around Stella as if she were a close friend, "She has connections. She knows Octavia better than the rest of us. What about your husband, Stella? Can he help at all? I've seen him go to town with that imp. I'd love to have someone like him in the studio…"

Stella gently pushed him away, "No, that won't be necessary. Stolas will have nothing to do with this."

"Don't you two have shared custody?" Vox asked.

"We do, but he's only making things worse. If he tries to get involved, I need you to stop him. This is our problem to fix, not his. He was against this arrangement in the first place. Of course he only wants to get involved now. I did all of the work!"

Anthron had only seen Stolas once. They had gotten off on the wrong foot, with Stolas attempting to undermine the superiority of his father's soldiers. It would be easy for Anthron to get mad. Nobody insulted his father and walked away from it. Not if they knew what was good for them.

He found it in his heart to give the man some slack. After all, his daughter was missing, and his marriage was on the ropes. Anthron understood that sort of pain. A chaotic life could pull the mask from even the best of men. Stolas hadn't meant anything by his remarks. Sooner or later, he would come around and see the better side of things. Just like his daughter.

"Very well," his father said, "Stella, Tralix, you're both welcome to stay here in the mansion if you wish. When she turns up, you'll be the first to know. If she truly has been taken by an overlord, then we will negotiate to get her back. We have plenty of money and that's all these overlords want."

"What if they've already hurt her?" Anthron asked.

"They haven't. If they have, we'll have an excuse to retaliate."

"An excuse to retaliate? That's my future wife you're talking about!"

"We have a kingdom to establish, Anthron. I want you to marry her, too. But even the worst-case scenario has a silver lining."

What was he talking about? The woman he would spend the rest of his life with had been lost to the slums of Hell? His father clearly misunderstood. Anthron wanted to help their family rise to power. Alastor's death had opened a door that they would be foolish to close. Anthron envisioned a future as an overlord with his bride by his side, where he would have somebody to accompany him atop the mountain. His father had Vox and Velvette. Anthron wanted something, too.

Losing his temper would do him no good.

"Well," Anthron sighed, "I would like us to put everything we have into finding her. If she was kidnapped, I'd like it if we didn't have to escalate things."

"If I may," Tralix started, "I'd like to-"

"SHUT UP!" the Vees spat in unison.

"Well," Stella sighed, "I still think she ran away. Nobody in their right mind would kidnap her. She's useless."

"That's a bit harsh, isn't it? She's a lovely young woman."

"To marry, maybe. Not to raise. She's been a brat for as long as I've known her."

"That's not the impression I got…"

"GUYS!" Vox shouted, another burst of digital noise sputtering from his screen, "We're getting off-topic. Can we just find this bitch so I can get back to work?!"

"We'll find her in time, Vox," his father hissed smoothly, "My soldiers have been trained. They'll either bring her to us personally, or they'll negotiate with her captor if she has one," He stopped to clear his throat and take another huff from his cigarette, "In the meantime, there's not much I can do. What we can do, however, is make plans for the wedding. This is an important political move. Finding Octavia is my job. The political part is a group project."

Anthron had been suspicious of his father's eagerness to help. He should have known that the whole thing was another power move. Sure it stung, but he had to put himself in his father's shoes. Their family name hadn't come from nothing. He had worked for decades to build an image; an image in which Anthron had lived his entire life.

In a way it was genius. His father saw an opportunity to boost their status no matter where it presented itself. Everything he did was calculated. It was the only way that somebody could get to the top. His father was a rare breed. It was why people like Zeezi were killed. They didn't think ahead.

He had to trust that the soldiers would find her. It wouldn't rid him of the gnawing in his stomach, but it was all he could do.

Stella began to smile at the mention of politics. Anthron sat back and prepared to soak in the information, waiting until he heard something that he considered to be useful.

A bolt of lightning struck outside. Vox's screen flickered for a moment as the lights rattled from the shockwave.

Velvette didn't react. All she did was lift her head and point to her phone.

"Am I good to post it?" Velvette asked, apathetically.

Anthron's father nodded, "Yes. Post it. Tell the world that she's missing."

She did as she was told, the phone vibrating slightly as the post went out.

Anthron wasn't sure how he felt about that. On one hand, it would bring awareness to Octavia's disappearance. On the other hand, it could draw the attention of malefactors; people that would hurt her. That, of course, assumed that she wasn't already hurt. His father had a plan in mind. He had to continually reassure himself to trust it.

"So, what's the next move here?" Stella asked impatiently, "Because I've got a family to save."

"I have a draft of an improved guest list," Anthron's father said, "Would you like to see it?"

"Of course I would!"

Anthron watched as a piece of silky paper slid across the conference table. With a quick swing of her wrist, Stella snatched the slip like a falcon swooping in for the kill. Anthron tried, but failed, to catch a glance of it.

Meanwhile, Vox and Velvette conversed at the other end of the room. Anthron shot glances in their direction with the hopes that they would notice him. Instead, they ignored him like he was some servant, only spoken to when they needed him.

"You should add the Von Eldritches to the list," Stella ordered, running her finger up and down the paper, "Might be the only overlords that aren't getting tied up in this little war of yours."

"Good idea," his father replied, "Do you have any relatives you'll be bringing to the table?"

"Andrealphus, definitely. Might see if I can get some of my connections in Qaburn to show."

"And your husband?"

"Well, I don't want him there, but people are going to ask questions if he isn't. We can hold things together for a few hours. Plus, Octavia will probably throw another fit if her precious daddy isn't there."

How could they do that? He had finally found a bride, and they were completely ignoring him. Multiple times, Anthron raised his hand to try and get the attention of those around him, with the only one daring to acknowledge him being Tralix.

"There's still much for us to discuss," Tralix said as he took a small book from his side pocket, "First of all, we need to find you a suit-"

"Trailx, shut up," Anthron said.

A servant passed him by and handed him a small appetizer. Anthron ate slowly, his appetite disappearing as he switched between worry, fear, and frustration.

The storm continued outside. Tree fell outside as the winds howled. Occasionally, a branch would slam against the window to the mansion and caused him to jump. The only joy he had was watching the fragments of the Zeezi riot run for cover in the elements. They should have known better than to make a scene. He hoped that one day he would have the power to get rid of them. To raise Pentagram City from the lawless hellhole that it was.

"May I see the guest list?" Anthron said, finally speaking up after an agonizing silence, "I'd like to see who you have in mind."

"This doesn't affect you, Anthron," his father replied, "You're the one on the altar, remember? Stella and I are doing the planning. You worry about getting ready for that young little thing of yours."

"Her name is Octavia, and I'd still like to see who we have on the list. It's not like I'm doing anything else around here."

His father scrunched his nose in thought before begrudgingly sliding the sheet over to Anthron.

Of course, the handwriting of a moth-demon could only be so good. He found himself squinting to read out the hundreds of names written in what could only be described as chicken scratch. Some notable names included the Von Eldritches, Mammon, Angel Dust, and Paimon, Octavia's grandfather. The others were either illegible or names that he didn't recognize.

"Now, tell me, son," his father grinned, "How many people on that list do you know?"

Anthron tried to jump in, "Well, I-"

"None. You know none."

"That's-"

His father pulled him aside.

"Look," the man said, "I know you want to act like an overlord. You want to be the biggest dildo in the room. You're allowed to try. But you need to remember that I'm the overlord here, not you. It's me, Vox, and Velvette. We've worked hard to get to where we are. You were born into it. Your time will come, but don't think you're on our level just because you're finally getting something to stick your dick in. Do you understand?"

Instead of those calculated and confident eyes that Anthron had come to know, all he saw in his father's face was a narrow scowl.

"Yes sir," Anthron said, "I understand."

"Good, good!" Anthron cheered, "You're finally getting the hang of this."

Wine glass in-hand, his father turned away and began going over the details with Stella. Anthron could only stand in silence.

A few conversational topics later, Anthron took his wine glass, waved goodbye to those in the room, and stepped out into the hallway. Nobody noticed that he had left. Velvette didn't even lift her eyes from her phone.

He would find a way to prove himself. Somehow. Octavia would come back, they would get married, and he would prove his worth to his father. Anthron's entire life had been spent studying his father's ways. Everything he did was a political move.

And what was more political than rising to the top?