It took some time to calm Callum down. He was inconsolable, clinging to his daughter like… well, like a father who loved his child more than life itself. When he finally stopped crying enough to have a proper conversation, he told her about the exorcist at the gate, and the message she'd given him. Elida's face didn't change, but the temperature dropped noticeably. Ominous flakes of snow dotted the air around her. Whisps of cloud gathered menacingly in the sky outside.

"Allie," Elida said, stone-faced and still, "I need comfort food." She wanted to introduce Alastor to her father properly, but that would come later, after the more pressing issues were dealt with.

"Of course, love," Alastor smiled, his too-chipper tone a stark contrast to everyone else's somber faces. "Any special requests, or will it be chef's choice?"

"Chef's choice."

"Your wish is my command," he patted her on the head, then faded into the shadows, presumably to bark orders at the kitchen staff.

Elida took her father into her room, where they sat at her little table. A few minutes later, Alastor sent Nifty with a tray of tea. She got distracted halfway through handing it over and dropped it. The boiling liquid landed on Elida's legs. She didn't react.

"How could you do that?" Elida asked her dad, the wet spot on her knee turning to a thin layer of frost.

"Do what?" he asked.

"How could you leave Mom alone like that? She's lost us both now. How do you think that's going to affect her?"

"I couldn't handle your absence, firecracker," he pleaded, "Every day was like a knife straight to the heart."

She snapped back, "And now you've become the catalyst that's going to start a holy war!" Her blank face finally betrayed a sliver of emotion. She was pissed. "I can't give them what they want. And knowing those genocidal psychopaths, they won't listen to any reason or diplomacy. Do you have any idea what you've done? Everything I've worked for is royally fucked!"

Callum blinked in shock. He'd never heard her swear before, especially not with so much venom. "I didn't-"

"You showing up now was the perfect opportunity for them to get to me." She was almost yelling now. "I have plenty of friends in Heaven, but no one I'm close enough with for them to be able to use. Not like you. The only other people up there that the exorcists might have been able to reach are the Redeemed, and they have the protection of the public eye. You were the perfect target to give those crazy bitches exactly the opportunity that they've been waiting for!"

It was getting colder. Callum shivered in a breeze that didn't make sense indoors.

"Now that they were finally able to get a real, tangible message to me away from the Seraphim's scrutiny, if I don't give them Lute, they'll fly down here and kill everyone. Sera will give them a slap on the wrist, if anything, because it's clear to me she's been wanting this whole hotel to fail from the start. Emily won't know what to do to stop it because she's too gentle to understand how bloodthirsty people think, and the demons are too chaotic to substantially organize in the span of a single month!" Angry tears fell from her eyes while she went off, "Everyone I love, including you, are going to be murdered for no goddamn reason!"

Callum let her shout. She hadn't had a tantrum like this since she was a child, but he knew stress when he saw it. This had been building up for a long time. Gently, as if his words were a lullaby, he asked her, "Why can't we give them what they want? That girl with the spear said this woman tried to kill you. Wouldn't it be better to have her as far from you as you can?"

She stood up, the chair scraping against the floor behind her, "I can't hand Lute over because I already killed her!"

Silence. Silence as loud as Hell's screams. It rang in their ears, the cold wind coming to an abrupt stop with her confession. Her father looked into her eyes and saw how much she was hurting. Slowly, he stood up, walked over to her, and wrapped his baby girl in his loving arms. She was cold to the touch. He knew she hated the cold. She buried her face in his chest, just like she had growing up.

A different voice, one with a strange radio static, spoke from the doorway, "So that's why you've been so upset lately."

They turned to see Alastor, Charlie, and Vaggie all standing there. Alastor held a fresh tray of tea to replace the one Nifty had dropped. He grinned creepily. Charlie looked horrified. Vaggie seemed impressed.

Elida's eyes widened in panic. "You weren't supposed to hear that."

"Darling, your door was unlocked."

"When the fuck were you going to tell us?" Vaggie demanded.

"I wasn't," Elida snapped back. "Because the more people who knew, the more likely it would be for Heaven to find out."

"But… how?" Charlie stammered, "When?"

Elida shook her head. She couldn't tell them about the potion; especially not Charlie or Alastor.

"I think that's quite enough talk of death for now," Alastor declared, placing the tea tray down. "While I personally find it a delightful subject, my Elida is getting worked up."

"Your Elida?" Callum bristled, the feathers in his hair puffing out a bit. "Just who do you think-"

"Dad, relax," Elida interrupted, sitting down to drink the tea. "Alastor is my boyfriend, but we can talk about that later. And he's right; I need to get a hold of myself. I can have a breakdown later."

"El," Charlie shook her head, "You know you can be upset, right? Your emotions are valid."

"Not right now, I can't." Elida closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths. "Please come in and close the door. Lover, I need-"

Alastor handed her one of her more soothing potions. He knew what she needed. He knew her better than anyone. She downed it gratefully.

The door was still open. Lucifer knocked, then poked his head in. "Everything okay in here?"

"Luci, good timing," Elida said, her voice calmer and more stable. "I need you to set up a meeting with the sins. Allie and I will bring the overlords and witches. Charlie and Vaggie, I'll want you there too, as well as anyone else in Hell that holds a position of notable power. We can use Vee Tower's conference room."

"What for?" Lucifer asked, tapping nervously on his apple staff.

"I can see the gears turning in your head," Alastor smiled. "What are you planning?"

"I'm going to save the souls of every damn demon Hell," she declared.

Marcel, blissfully unaware of the shifting tides, was sitting inside his rose bush. Mayberry sat with him, her lips caressing his with all the peace and gentility that a citizen of Heaven had to offer. They allowed themselves to glow like the sun, their young and angelic love shining through the thorny branches. His phone buzzed. He ignored it. His attention was on Mayberry today.

Husker was performing card tricks for a group of angel kindergartners as a favor to Mayberry. She'd wanted the day off, and she found out how much he liked kids. Instead of practicing their reading, however, he made them laugh with some rather impressive sleight of hand. They oohed and aahed every time he picked their card. His phone buzzed. He ignored it. His attention was on the kids today.

Anthony was at the shooting range, drawing hearts with bullet holes in the paper targets. He had incredible aim, and he especially enjoyed making little bullet-doodles. When his gun ran out of ammo, he lowered his arms, then filled it up with more. His phone buzzed. He ignored it. His attention was on his hobby today.

Aerwyna was pouring over a mountain of papers. Divine judgement was surprisingly hard to pin down, but from what she'd been able to gather, she needed to find an archangel. Which archangel, however, was an entirely different question. There were only a few, and one of them was the King of Hell. It obviously wasn't Lucifer, so she needed to narrow down the others before trying to approach them. Her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Her attention was on her search today.

Mama Hartfelt was practicing her voodoo. She picked up a doll, wrapping twine around its waist. It would bring the subject luck. Getting a piece of her son's hair without him noticing was a tough task, but she'd managed. What he'd thought was a gentle scolding was really a way to grab a few strands off his head. She traced a few symbols into the doll's chest. Her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Her attention was on her craft today.

Sir Pentious was checking the mechanism on his breakfast machine. Something was wrong with the toaster; it kept burning the number 3 into the center, and he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. It was messing with the flavor. He rubbed his chin, wondering if it was something wrong with the bread rather than the machine. His phone buzzed. He checked it. He dropped his phone in shock.

Vox was pretending to smile on a talk show. He fake laughed, he fake grinned, he faked nonchalance. When the cameras were off, his smile fell, and he sipped a mug of lukewarm coffee. He was bitter, because he'd just received a report detailing the numbers for VoxTek's profits. They were at a record high, and it was all due to Elida's stupidly ethical business practices. He hated that she was right, because he'd have to tell her about it. His phone buzzed. He checked it. His face scrunched up in confusion. "What the fuck?"

Velvette was sewing together her latest design. She'd initially told her top designer to do it, but they'd fucked up the hemline. As much as Vel wanted to yank that bitch's head off, she was restrained by her chains from abusing her employees. So, she just took the garment and glared at the designer while she fixed the stupid mistake. Her phone buzzed. She checked it. She groaned, "Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

Valentino was hitting his head against the wall, desperately trying not to think about how badly he needed to get off. Elida's sex ban on his dick was the worst thing she could have done to him. Vox kept jerking off in front of him just to gloat, and it was infuriatingly hot. Val was on the verge of firing all his employees just so he could cure his desperately blue balls. His phone buzzed. He threw it out the window without checking it.

Carmilla was examining several sets of newly manufactured armor. Outfitting demons was tough, because their bodies had no uniform shape. So, her daughters created a fully customizable armor suit designed to deflect angelic steel and bullets while still being wearable for several different body shapes. It was a brilliant piece of workmanship, and she was proud of her daughters, but it was expensive. There wasn't enough angelic steel in Hell to armor her own people, let alone sell them. Her phone buzzed. She checked it. "Hmm…"

Zestial was sitting quietly in the park, enjoying the agonized cries of a nearby demon who'd accidentally stepped on a hill full of fire ants. He smiled, glancing up from his newspaper. He did so revel in the screams. His phone buzzed. He checked it. "What doth we have here?"

Snyder was being sucked off by the pool boy. They floated on a wax-sealed paper-mâché boat in his pool full of black ink. He groaned in pleasure, gripping the sides of the boat for support. When he finally finished, he sighed in relief. He'd needed that. Buying this pool boy from Valentino was the best decision Snyder ever made. His phone buzzed. He checked it. "Huh. Interestin'. Hey kid," he nudged the pool boy with his thigh, "be ready for another' round soon. I'll be needin' a stress-reliever comin' up."

Rosie was listening to a newly dead cannibal woman who'd eaten her husband. She wanted to know where he was, so she could kill and eat him again. What a romantic couple! She hooked the woman up with an investigator whose specialty was finding people's deceased family members. There was high demand for such services in Hell. Her phone buzzed. She checked it. "Oh my stars!"

Benjamin Shakespie was trying not to think about how hungry he was. His hands shook. His muscles cramped. His teeth ground together in frustration. He hadn't eaten anyone in over a week; Only pork, vegetables, and a few ethically sourced menstrual blood capsules. It wasn't enough. He needed human meat. He slashed at the wall, leaving a large gash in his lovely wallpaper. He needed to rend flesh, and he hated how badly he wanted to tear someone's throat out. Maybe going cold turkey wasn't such a good idea. His phone buzzed. He tried to check it, but he couldn't read the words over his own swimming vision.

Lilith was tinkering with Adam's halo again. She wrapped threads of golden string around it, muttering ancient spells and infusing the threads with extraction magic. The halo gleamed in her hands. She glared as it ignored her efforts. She'd beat this stupid thing into submission one day. It was just a matter of time. Her phone did not buzz.

The Hag was preparing her sisters. Only a few of the most powerful prophesying witches were privy to her plans; the rest merely trusted her to do what was best for the sisterhood. She had been the Coven matriarch for thousands of years. She never steered them wrong.

Her phone buzzed. She ignored it. She already knew what it would say.

"Shrewm, Cruci, it's begun. Have the book ready, but keep it well hidden until Alastor gets here. He'll come looking for it within the month." The Hag turned her face upward to the witch dangling from the ceiling. She'd been hanging there for far longer than most searching spells usually took, but that was to be expected considering the powerful target. "Found her yet?"

"Oh yes," her sister confirmed, "I've found her."

"Where is she?"

"Heaven. She's hiding out in a coastal city."

"Get her location marked on a map." The Hag turned to Cruci, "Has your mermaid grown attached to Shakespie yet?"

"Completely smitten," Cruci confirmed. "I told you my soulmate program would pay off!"

"Yes yes, we're all very impressed," The Hag rolled her grumpy eyes. "Shrewm, where's the shieldman?"

"Shielding soul sits in his safe space," Shrewm replied.

"When will he be here to get his instructions?"

"Soon. Silly boy still hasn't seen the summons."

"He better get his ass in gear before I slap the smile right off that fucking face of his," the Hag grumbled under her breath. "Alright. Let's get this shit going. Cruci, do you know what Scale-Tail is up to right now?"

"She's trying to decide which archangel is in charge of divine judgement."

"Good," the Hag nodded. "Help her with it. We'll need to make contact with them before the final ritual, otherwise we'll all be stuck in a desolate wasteland with no other souls to keep us company for the rest of fucking time. See to it she succeeds. And make sure you watch her back."

"Scale, mail, face gone pale," Shrewm mused melodically, "Stronger than the holy grail."

"Only if they can get it to work," Cruci pointed out.

"They will," the Hag reassured her. "I foresaw these events long before the exterminations even began. The only real question is whether or not we'll survive it."

"Do you think their majesties will live to see what they create?" Cruci asked, a hint of concern in her voice. "Their souls are still so young…"

"That's one question even I can't answer," the Hag said somberly. "The weight of their crowns may very well crush them."

"The Morningstars are the key," the witch dangling from the ceiling said. "So long as they play their parts well, we will have the salvation we crave."

"I'd settle for survival," Cruci sighed.

"There are worse things than death," the Hag warned.

"Such as seeing your sisters systematically slaughtered for centuries?" Shrewm suggested softly.

"Millennia," the Hag corrected. "It's been happening for millennia." A deep sadness crossed her ancient face, and the room grew a little darker. "So many witches. So many sisters I couldn't save…"

"Hey," Cruci placed a comforting hand on her matriarch's arm, "don't you dare blame yourself. It's not your fault, and you know it. Even you can't control the Heavens."

"There were things I could have done differently," the Hag frowned. "Precautions I could have taken."

Shroom soothed her, "Hag of Hell has a heavy heart, but the Hazbins will grant us all a new start."

Cruci sighed again, "I just hope Elida and Alastor don't get themselves k-"

The witch who'd been dangling from the ceiling fell to the ground with a loud crash. Candle sticks and spell components clattered loudly, spilling all over the place. Days' old animal blood stained the floor a deep red.

"Damn it, Bethelda…" Cruci cursed, reaching down to help her up.

"I'm okay, just, woah…" She stumbled a bit, "just a little dizzy from being upside down for so long."

The Hag waved a wrinkled hand, and the blood on the floor rose up in three twisting columns. They danced and twirled, painting a scene on the wall depicting a violent war between two opposing realms. "I suspect the death toll will be higher than any of us want to predict in the coming days," she said darkly.

The Hag traced the lines of blood on the wall with her fingers. "Preparation can only take us so far. In the end, it's up to Mother and Father. If they fail, we'll all be wiped out. The hellfire of every witch ever born from here to the end of time will be extinguished. Even innocent imps will be caught in the crossfire. Hellhounds will howl at the third moon, lamenting its emptiness. Earth itself will tremble while spirits are torn to shreds beneath the ground."

"Then we'll just have to make sure they don't fail, won't we?" Cruci declared. She finally checked the text on her phone, reading the short message aloud for her sisters;

"Meet us in Vee Tower tomorrow at 3. The exorcists have declared war.

-Elida"