ONE YEAR LATER

Blitz stirred awake as the first rays of Hell's crimson light crept through the blinds, casting faint streaks across the dimly lit bedroom. He let out a low, guttural yawn and dragged a hand down his face, the roughness of sleep still clinging to his features. His hair stuck out in wild tufts, and his horns cast jagged shadows along the walls.

The apartment was modest, a far cry from the grandeur of Stolas' mansion. It was smaller, quieter—almost suffocating in its simplicity. The walls were bare, save for a few scattered pictures and shelves lined with trinkets Blitz had collected over the years. He sat at the edge of the bed, his hands loosely clasped between his knees as he stared down at the worn carpet, lost in thought.

His eyes eventually drifted to the nightstand, where a single framed photo sat. It showed Loona and Sallie May, smiling beneath a vibrant sunset at the farm, their arms wrapped tightly around each other. The background was peaceful, the rolling fields stretching endlessly behind them.

Blitz reached out, gently picking up the frame and studying it. The edges were smudged with fingerprints from how often he held it. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he ran his thumb over Loona's face, a warmth spreading in his chest.

She was okay.

After everything she'd been through—after Striker, the fight, the blood—she had found something good. Something stable. He exhaled slowly and set the frame back down, his gaze catching on the calendar pinned to the wall above the desk.

One day was circled in red ink, with the word "Loona" scrawled beneath it in bold letters.

Blitz chuckled softly to himself and stood, his joints popping as he stretched. He shuffled across the room, stepping over stray clothes and papers scattered on the floor. The apartment wasn't dirty—just cluttered, like someone who hadn't fully adjusted to living alone.

He wandered into the small bathroom, flipping on the light. The mirror revealed dark circles under his eyes, evidence of too many late nights and restless thoughts. With a resigned sigh, he turned on the shower, letting the water heat up as he stripped off his wrinkled sleep clothes and stepped inside.

The hot water washed away the lingering fatigue, but not the weight sitting in his chest. It never fully left.

By the time he finished, steam fogged the mirror, and Blitz wiped it clear with the back of his hand. He smoothed back his hair and adjusted his horns, making sure they looked even. His eyes lingered on the faint scars along his torso—the reminders of Striker's attack—but he quickly turned away before the memories could resurface.

He dressed carefully, sliding into his freshly tailored suit. It was sharp and clean, a near-perfect replica of the one destroyed during the chaos a year ago. He straightened his tie, rolling his shoulders to get comfortable in the stiff fabric.

Grabbing his keys and wallet, Blitz moved to the kitchen, where the counters were bare except for a single mug. He poured himself a cup of coffee, black, and leaned against the counter as he took a sip. The bitter warmth settled his nerves, but only slightly.

His eyes drifted back to the calendar one last time, lingering on Loona's name.

With a deep breath, Blitz grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. The sound of the lock clicking behind him echoed through the quiet apartment, leaving it empty once again.

APARTMENT

In the bustling yet slightly chaotic atmosphere of the new I.M.P. headquarters, Moxxie and Millie paced anxiously inside their sleek but modest office. The walls were adorned with various contracts, wanted posters, and promotional materials for their assassination services, all giving the place a strangely professional yet distinctly Hellish vibe. Despite the improvements over their last workplace, it still carried the same rough-around-the-edges charm.

Outside, Octavia sat at her desk near the entrance, wearing headphones and flipping through a magazine while occasionally glancing at the demons waiting in line. Her black nails tapped against the desk rhythmically as she tried to drown out the murmurs of impatience around her.

"Can we speed this up?" one of the demons grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Yeah, I got a soul-debt that's not gonna collect itself," another snapped.

Octavia exhaled through her nose and leaned into the microphone on her desk. "Be patient or get lost," she said flatly without looking up, earning grumbles from the waiting clients. She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Damn, you'd think nobody's been murdered before."

Suddenly, the front door burst open.

Blitz strutted in with his usual confident swagger, coffee cup in one hand and his signature red coat draped over his shoulders. "Alright, you miserable sacks of sin, hold your demonic horses! We'll get to your murderous needs in approximately—" he glanced at his watch, "—six minutes. Maybe seven. Try breathing until then."

The demons grumbled but fell quiet. Blitz flashed them a toothy grin before heading straight to the back office. As he passed Octavia's desk, he paused. "How's my favorite moody receptionist?"

Octavia gave him a deadpan look and raised her headphones. "I hate this job."

"Love you too, kiddo," Blitz shot back, giving her a wink before disappearing down the hall.

Inside the office, Moxxie stood up the second Blitz entered. "You're an hour late! To your own business!" he snapped, thrusting a clipboard at him.

Blitz mumbled something incoherent as he set his coffee down and rubbed his temples.

Millie crossed her arms. "Isn't your apartment literally one floor up?"

Blitz waved her off. "I needed time to get ready, alright? It's not my fault I sleep like a baby. It's called beauty rest."

Moxxie pinched the bridge of his nose. "You don't even—ugh, never mind. Look, we've got a full schedule today, and I need you focused." He handed Blitz the clipboard again. "These are today's clients."

Blitz casually flipped through the names—until one stopped him cold. His eyes locked on it.

Charlie Morningstar.

His fingers twitched, and before he realized it, he had torn the clipboard in half.

Millie sighed. "I told Moxxie to take her name off the list, but he just scribbled it out with a pencil."

Blitz stared at the shredded clipboard, his breathing heavy as he tried to rein in his emotions. Memories of Barbie flashed in his mind—her angry glares, the final fight, and then… her lifeless body in that jail cell.

Even if Barbie had hated his guts, she was still his sister. And Charlie—Charlie was the last person to see her alive. Blitz had put the pieces together, and while he didn't have proof, his gut told him all he needed to know.

Slamming his hands down on the desk, Blitz growled, "Call her. Tell her to go fuck herself. I don't care if she's Lucifer's daughter—she's not stepping foot in here!"

Moxxie's face paled. "It's… too late for that."

Blitz's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean too late?"

Millie hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. "She's already here… in your office."

Blitz's eye twitched, and he pointed at the door. "She's where?"

Millie grimaced. "In the 'Boss' office."

Blitz let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before muttering, "Well, fuck me."

With no choice, he downed the rest of his coffee, slammed the cup onto the desk, and marched toward his office, bracing himself for whatever storm Charlie Morningstar was about to bring.

FARM

Loona stood at the edge of the freshly dug hole, leaning on her shovel and wiping the sweat from her brow. The midday sun beat down on Millie's family farm, casting long shadows across the dirt and crops. She grabbed her canteen, took a long sip of water, and let out a satisfied sigh.

A whistle broke the quiet, making her ears perk up. She turned, already smirking, as a familiar voice called out.

"Damn, Loona. You're getting hotter every second."

Loona lowered her canteen, her tail flicking at the compliment, and saw Sallie May strolling toward her with that usual confident sway in her hips. Her smirk was playful, but the way her eyes traveled over Loona's toned figure was far from subtle.

Loona let out a soft laugh. "You say that every day."

Sallie May stopped in front of her and gave a teasing grin. "Doesn't make it any less true."

Her gaze drifted lower, and she reached out to drag her fingers lightly along the ridges of Loona's abs. The touch was featherlight, and it sent a small shiver through Loona that she tried—and failed—to suppress. Instead, she let out a soft giggle, swatting playfully at Sallie May's hand.

"Ticklish now, huh?" Sallie May teased, before stepping closer and wrapping her arms around Loona's waist, pulling her in. Their foreheads rested against each other as they stood there, the heat of the moment rivaling the warmth of the sun.

"So," Sallie May murmured, "you got plans later? Or should I pencil you in for another night of fun?"

Loona's smile faltered, and she pulled back just enough to see Sallie May's face. "Actually… yeah. I do."

She turned, crouching down to pick up one of the potted plants waiting to be transferred to the soil. Her fingers brushed the leaves as she carefully set it in place, avoiding Sallie May's gaze. "I'm heading into the city tonight. Going to visit Blitz."

Sallie May's expression softened, but there was an edge of worry in her eyes. "You sure that's a good idea? Last time you went back there, it didn't exactly end well."

Loona sighed, pressing dirt around the plant with her fingertips. "I know. That was my fault. I let my temper get the better of me." She glanced up at Sallie May. "But those assholes asked for it."

Her jaw tightened for a moment, but then she shook her head and stood, brushing dirt off her knees. "I just wish it hadn't ended with bloodshed."

Sallie May stepped closer, placing a hand on Loona's arm. "You don't have to do this, you know. You don't owe anyone anything."

Loona took Sallie May's hands and squeezed them gently. "I do, though. It's Blitz. He needs me, and I need to talk to him. I'm not making any stops, I promise—straight to his place, spend the night, and head back in the morning. No trouble this time."

Sallie May searched Loona's eyes, clearly still hesitant, but after a moment, she nodded. "Alright… but you'd better be careful. I mean it."

Loona smirked, her confidence peeking through again. "Careful? We weren't exactly careful in our room last night."

Sallie May's eyes widened, and then she burst out laughing. "Shit, you're not wrong. Daddy was not thrilled at breakfast."

Loona chuckled, leaning in close. "I think he was more upset about the table than anything else."

Sallie May grinned. "Guess he should've gotten used to it by now."

The two of them shared a lingering kiss before Loona pulled away, her expression softening as she gave Sallie May's hands one last squeeze.

"I'll be back before you know it," Loona promised, though a small part of her wondered if going back to the city might stir up more trouble than either of them expected.

BLITZ'S OFFICE

Blitz sat at his desk, his glare fixed on Charlie, who stood across from him with her arms crossed, her expression somewhere between frustration and exhaustion. The tension in the room was suffocating, like a powder keg ready to blow. Charlie rolled her eyes, breaking the silence first.

"Are you seriously still giving me that look?" Her voice carried a sharp edge, but there was a flicker of something tired beneath it.

Blitz leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing. "Yeah, I am. And I'm not gonna stop, so get used to it."

Charlie let out a breath, rubbing her temples before snapping, "It's been a year, Blitz. Are you seriously still mad at me?"

Blitz pushed himself up from his chair, grabbing a framed photo off his desk. The glass was cracked, but the image inside remained intact—a memory frozen in time. It showed him and Barbie Wire as kids, back when their family circus was still a dream instead of a nightmare. He held it up, his grip tightening.

"Mad? Yeah, I'm mad. You want to know why? Because you killed her." His voice cracked, and he set the picture down, hard, but not hard enough to break it. "And for what? Revenge?"

Charlie didn't flinch. If anything, her posture straightened, her jaw set. "Yes, Blitz. Revenge."

Blitz blinked, caught off guard by how blunt she was. Charlie folded her arms, her voice cold and detached.

"Barbie didn't just destroy my life—she destroyed us. Vaggie and I were finally getting our shot at peace, at happiness, and Barbie burned it to the ground. She made me watch it burn."

Blitz scoffed, shaking his head as he sat back down. "And now what? There's nothing left to burn, huh? How's Vaggie doing these days?"

Charlie faltered, just for a moment, but it was enough for Blitz to see. He leaned forward, smirking.

"That's what I thought. She dumped your ass, didn't she?"

Charlie's fists clenched, and her eyes burned with barely contained rage. "We're taking a break," she snapped, but the bitterness in her voice gave her away.

Blitz barked out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that's what they all say."

The tension spiked, but Charlie forced herself to calm down. She exhaled through her nose and reached into her coat, pulling out a file and slapping it onto Blitz's desk.

"Enough of this," she said firmly. "I didn't come here to rehash the past. I came here because I need you."

Blitz raised an eyebrow. "To do what? Take out another family member? Sorry, but I'm fresh out of siblings for you to put down."

Charlie ignored the jab and opened the file. Blitz's eyes scanned the photos inside, and his smirk instantly faded. The pictures showed Vortex—the towering hellhound—dressed in a long trench coat and a hat that barely concealed his size and presence.

Charlie spoke as Blitz flipped through the images. "Vortex's activities have been escalating since Striker's attack. He's been moving between cities and even outside Hell's borders, gathering Angelic weapons—enhanced Angelic weapons. The same kind that killed Beelzebub."

Blitz stiffened but kept listening. Charlie reached for another photo and slid it across the desk.

"And last week…"

Blitz froze, staring at the image. It showed Mammon, the King of Greed, lying dead in a pool of his own blood, five Angelic blades lodged in his body. The gruesome sight was burned into the photo, yet Blitz couldn't look away.

"Not just Mammon," Charlie continued, sliding another photo forward. This one showed Belphegor, the Sin of Sloth, sprawled on her bed with a single glowing blade piercing her skull.

Charlie sighed, running a hand through her hair. "At least Belphegor was asleep when it happened. She didn't feel it."

Blitz finally tore his eyes away from the pictures, his expression unreadable. Charlie leaned in closer, her voice dropping.

"Two Sins. Killed in one night. No one knows yet—not the other Sins, not the public—but it's only a matter of time before this gets out. We need to stop him before more bodies start piling up."

Blitz swallowed hard, then slowly pushed the file back toward her. "Find someone else."

Charlie blinked, taken aback. "What? Why?"

Blitz stood, his hands pressing against the desk. "You know why."

Charlie's heels clicked against the floor as she grabbed the file, shoving it into her coat with force. She turned back to Blitz, her expression hardening.

"I expected more from you, Blitz," she snapped.

Blitz leaned over the desk, his voice sharp. "Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn't have killed Barbie."

Charlie's lips pressed into a thin line, her jaw twitching as if she was holding back the urge to lash out. Instead, she turned toward the door, muttering something under her breath that Blitz couldn't hear—and probably didn't want to.

Just as she reached the door, she stopped and glanced back. "You think I wanted any of this?" Her voice wavered, but only slightly. "You think I don't replay it in my head every goddamn night? What she did, what I did?"

Blitz said nothing, but his scowl softened for just a moment.

Charlie stepped closer. "You don't know what it's like to have your entire life ripped apart and be powerless to stop it."

Blitz's eyes darkened. "Don't I?"

That shut Charlie up for a second. But instead of backing down, she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "I made my choice, Blitz. And you'll have to make yours."

She opened the door and stepped out, slamming it behind her.

Blitz stood there, breathing heavily, staring at the door as if he expected her to come back. When she didn't, he finally sank back into his chair, running a hand down his face.

"Shit."

The room felt heavier now, suffocating in its silence. Blitz reached for the photo of him and Barbie, his fingers brushing against the cracked glass. He stared at their younger faces, frozen in time—smiling, carefree, back when the world made more sense.

But those days were long gone.

Blitz leaned back, exhaling sharply as he looked at the ceiling. Charlie's words lingered in his mind, whether he wanted them to or not. Vortex had killed two Sins. That wasn't something that could be ignored—not by Hell, and certainly not by someone like Lucifer.

IMP CITY

Loona rode through the streets of Imp City, the low growl of her motorcycle's engine echoing off the cracked pavement and graffiti-covered walls. The city hadn't changed much—still loud, crowded, and chaotic—but Loona had. Her sharp amber eyes stayed locked ahead, ignoring the catcalls from passing demons and the occasional horn blaring at her.

The motorcycle, once a broken-down wreck left to rust on Millie's family farm, now gleamed with its new matte black paint job accented by fiery red streaks along the sides. It was hers—rebuilt, repaired, and perfected with her own hands. The handlebars vibrated under her grip, steady and controlled, but she felt the tension creeping up her spine.

As she weaved between traffic, her sharp ears picked up a few familiar sounds—the angry shouts of a street fight, glass breaking in a nearby alley, and the screech of tires barely missing a group of wandering imps. Any one of these scenes might've sent her flying off the handle a year ago, claws out and ready to tear into someone. But not this time.

She forced herself to keep moving, letting the city's chaos blur into the background. No stopping. No distractions. Just the road and her destination.

Loona's gaze flicked up as she approached a large building that stood out against the crumbling infrastructure surrounding it. Its brick facade looked newer, reinforced, as if someone wanted to send a message that this place wasn't going anywhere. Bold and bright, the red IMP logo was painted across the front wall, practically daring anyone to mess with it.

Loona pulled into the lot and killed the engine. The sudden silence felt unnerving after the constant hum of the bike. She removed her helmet, shaking out her wild hair as she dismounted. Her tail flicked behind her, betraying her nerves even as she tried to appear calm.

She lingered by the bike for a moment, her reflection staring back at her in the chrome of the fuel tank. She looked different now—tougher, sharper—but the exhaustion in her eyes was impossible to hide.

Loona inhaled deeply, forcing down the lump in her throat. She'd told Sallie May this trip would be quick, but stepping through those doors again made her chest feel tight. She'd left this place for a reason. Coming back now felt like opening a wound she'd barely managed to close.

But there was no turning back.

Tucking her helmet under her arm, Loona stepped toward the entrance. The automatic doors hissed open, and the familiar scent of sulfur and stale coffee hit her immediately.

She sighed, muttering under her breath, "Let's get this over with."

And with that, she stepped inside.

APARTMENT

Blitz lounged on his worn-out couch, slouched with one leg propped up and a half-empty bag of chips resting on his stomach. The flickering light of the TV illuminated the dimly lit apartment, casting long shadows over the scattered clutter—empty cans, clothes draped over furniture, and a coffee table littered with wrappers. He chewed absentmindedly, barely paying attention to the mindless show playing in the background.

His thoughts kept drifting back to earlier that day. To Charlie. To her offer. To the file full of pictures of Mammon and Belphegor—dead. Angelic weapons. Vortex. The pieces were still rattling in his head, no matter how hard he tried to push them out.

The knock at the door snapped him out of it.

Blitz groaned, stuffing another handful of chips into his mouth. "IMP's closed for the night!" he barked, not bothering to get up. "No more clients! Go home!"

Another knock.

Blitz rolled his eyes. "Did you not hear me? Knock again, and I swear I'll unleash my Hellhound on your ass! And she's in a mood tonight!"

Outside, Loona raised an eyebrow. "Uh, Dad? It's me."

Blitz froze mid-chew, his eyes widening. "Loona?" He glanced around, suddenly aware of how trashed the apartment looked.

"Shit."

Scrambling, he leapt off the couch and began shoving things out of sight—kicking clothes under the table, sweeping wrappers into the trash, and throwing a half-empty can into the sink. Something fell and clattered loudly, making him curse under his breath.

"Give me a minute!" he yelled toward the door. "I'm naked!"

Loona rolled her eyes outside, arms crossed. "You're always naked," she muttered.

Inside, Blitz grabbed a cushion and threw it over a suspicious stain on the couch before finally yanking the door open. He stood there slightly out of breath, but the second he saw her standing there, his usual grin spread across his face.

"Loony!"

Loona gave him a soft smile. "Hi, Dad."

Blitz stepped aside, letting her in, and she brushed past him, glancing around the apartment. Her eyes immediately landed on the bag of chips sitting on the couch. Without hesitation, she snatched it up and dug in, savoring the salty crunch.

"Damn," Blitz said, watching her. "Millie's family not feeding you enough?"

Loona shrugged between bites. "They are, but this is the first time in months I've had junk food. Missed this."

She dropped the bag onto the table and glanced around the apartment. It was rough around the edges but livable.

"Nice place," she said, her tone casual but tinged with something else.

Blitz smirked. "Stolas helped set it up—got me the building and got the business back on its feet. But the rest?" He gestured broadly to the mess around them. "All me."

"Sure, you did." Loona said.

"You know, I was supposed to come over to visit you, next week. What exactly brings you here at this time?"

Loona's eyes drifted to a framed photo on the shelf. It was her and Sallie May at the farm. Her smile faded slightly, her posture stiffening just a bit.

Blitz caught the change immediately. His own grin slipped as he stepped closer.

"Hey," he said, softer this time. "What's wrong?"

Loona turned to face him, and Blitz saw something in her eyes he hadn't seen in a long time—hesitation. Doubt.

"I need to talk to you," she said quietly, her voice heavy with something she wasn't saying yet.

Blitz's expression grew serious. He didn't crack a joke or brush it off. Instead, he straightened and gestured to the couch.

"Alright," he said, sitting down and giving her his full attention. "I'm listening."

Loona sank onto the couch, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with her. She clasped her hands together, staring at the floor, struggling to find the words. Blitz leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, watching her closely. The silence stretched before Loona finally spoke.

"I think there's something wrong with me," she said quietly, her voice trembling.

Blitz's expression softened immediately, but he stayed quiet, letting her continue.

"I feel… empty," she admitted, her fingers gripping her knees tightly. "I've been feeling this way ever since I left. It's like I don't have a purpose anymore, and I don't know what to do about it."

Blitz took a breath, considering his words. "Are you happy at the farm? I mean, really happy?"

Loona didn't hesitate. "Of course, I am. Living there helped me a lot. It's peaceful, you know? A hell of a lot quieter than the city." She paused, brushing her hair back. "The first month was rough, though. I had no idea how to deal with farm life, but I got used to it. And Sallie May… she's been there for me. Every single time I have a bad night, she's right there."

Blitz smiled slightly, relieved to hear that. But he still noticed the tension in Loona's voice—the crack underneath her words. "Has anyone ever given you trouble out there? Tried to mess with you or Sallie May?"

Loona let out a sharp exhale. "A couple times," she admitted. "One guy, some sleazy salesman, showed up at the farm. Total scam artist, trying to sell us garbage. He noticed me and Sallie May together, and the second he heard her voice and saw her horns, he got this disgusted look on his face."

Blitz's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Because he knew," Loona said bitterly. "He figured out who Sallie May used to be before… before she transitioned. But so what? I don't care who she was before. I love her for who she is now. That asshole didn't get to change that."

Blitz clenched his fists. "What'd you do to him?"

Loona smirked slightly. "Didn't have to do anything. Joe handled it. Chased him off the property for miles. I swear, I thought he was gonna run that guy straight into the next ring of Hell."

Blitz chuckled. "Damn right. That guy deserved worse."

Loona's brief smile faded, and her eyes dropped again. "Yeah… but I was scared of what I might've done if Joe hadn't stepped in first."

Blitz's grin vanished, his face growing serious. He knew exactly what she was talking about—what he'd seen back at the warehouse when Striker tried to kill Sallie May. He'd seen the rage Loona unleashed. And now, so had she.

Loona covered her face with her hands, her voice cracking. "I still feel it sometimes," she whispered. "The urges. I get them every now and then, and it's like I can't stop thinking about it. The blood. The tearing. The rage. And when it gets too much, I… sneak out. I find some creatures, random pests or strays, just to let it out."

Blitz swallowed hard but let her keep going.

"I haven't hurt anyone yet," Loona said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not seriously, at least. But I'm scared, Dad. I'm scared that one day I'm not gonna stop myself."

Blitz reached out, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Loona," he said softly. "You're not alone in this. And you're not a monster."

She looked at him, desperation in her eyes.

"I get it," he continued. "Believe me, I do. Rage is hard to control, and sometimes it feels like it's just who you are. But it's not. It's not who you are—it's what you feel. And feelings? They're not permanent."

Loona stared at him, absorbing every word.

"Stolas once told me something," Blitz said, leaning in. "He said that what makes us strong isn't ignoring our emotions—it's learning how to live with them without letting them take over. And you? You're strong as hell, kid. Stronger than you give yourself credit for."

Loona took a shaky breath, nodding slowly. "I'll try," she said.

"That's all I'm asking," Blitz said, smiling softly.

Loona wiped her eyes and stood up. "Thanks, Dad."

Blitz grinned and nudged her shoulder. "Don't get sappy on me."

Loona smirked and rolled her eyes.

Blitz pointed toward the hallway. "The guest room's empty if you're staying the night."

Loona's smile returned, genuine this time. "Yeah. I think I will. Thanks, Blitz."

Blitz gave her a playful wink before Loona headed toward the guest room. Once she disappeared down the hall, Blitz leaned back against the couch, exhaling deeply. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts racing again. But for the first time in a while, he felt a little lighter—because no matter what happened, he knew Loona wasn't facing it alone.

STOLAS MANSION

Stolas sat in the dimly lit living room of his sprawling mansion, the only sound coming from the faint crackle of the fireplace. The large room felt emptier than ever, its towering shelves of ancient tomes and artifacts doing little to fill the void. In his trembling hands, he held a framed photograph—one of the few remnants of happier times. It showed a younger Octavia, no older than six, perched on his shoulders, giggling as she reached for the sky with a toy telescope. Stolas stared at the image, his thumb gently brushing the glass as if trying to relive the memory.

But the warmth of that moment felt like a distant dream.

His mind drifted back to the night everything changed—the explosive fight after he discovered Octavia was the one who bombed the courthouse during Blitz's trial. The betrayal. The shouting. The tears. And then, the silence.

Octavia left that night and never returned.

Not long after, Blitz walked away too. Then Moxxie and Millie followed.

Now, the mansion was just a hollow shell of what it used to be—a gilded cage echoing with loneliness. Stolas leaned back in his chair, clutching the photo tightly as a single tear slid down his cheek.

The sharp sound of knocking startled him.

Setting the picture down on a nearby table, Stolas stood and straightened his robe. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to the grand front door. He wasn't expecting anyone, and for a moment, he wondered if it was Octavia.

But when he opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise.

Standing before him, framed by the flickering glow of the mansion's exterior lights, was Charlie Morningstar. She was dressed sharply in her signature red tuxedo, paired with a dark crimson trench coat that hung over her shoulders like a cape. Her hair was perfectly styled, but her expression was anything but lighthearted.

It was cold. Calculated.

"Charlie?" Stolas blinked, struggling to hide his shock. "What brings you here?"

Charlie held his gaze, her tone firm and deliberate. "I'm here to make you an offer."

Stolas stared at her, his mind racing. Charlie Morningstar, daughter of Lucifer, showing up unannounced at his doorstep wasn't something to be taken lightly.

And by the look in her eyes, Stolas knew whatever this offer was—it wasn't going to be simple.

APARTMENT

Loona stirred awake, her head buried in her pillow as sunlight peeked through the blinds, cutting across her bed. She groaned and rolled onto her side, hair an absolute mess and sticking up in random directions. She had no desire to leave the comfort of her bed, but the growing brightness forced her to stretch and yawn as she sat up.

Blinking sleepily, she rubbed her eyes and stretched her arms above her head—only for her hands to brush against the softness of her stomach. Her fingers paused, pressing into her skin.

Her abs… were gone.

Confused, Loona ran her hands over her stomach again, this time more firmly. The toned muscles she'd worked so hard to build on the farm were nowhere to be found. She stood up, still half-asleep, muttering to herself.

"Okay… okay, maybe it's the eight damn bags of chips I ate last night…"

But something gnawed at the edge of her mind, a strange familiarity she couldn't shake. Her eyes wandered around the room, and what she saw sent a chill down her spine.

The posters of Beelzebub.

The carved Hellhound figurine Blitz had given her when he first adopted her—something she treasured for years, even when she acted like it didn't mean much.

Her bed, with the same old mismatched blankets and pillows she used to have before… before everything changed.

Loona's breathing quickened. Her room wasn't just familiar—it was identical to how it had looked before her life had spiraled into chaos.

Panicking, she pinched her arm hard, flinching at the sting. She wasn't dreaming.

Her heart raced as she rushed to the nightstand, grabbing her phone. It wasn't her new one. It was her old phone, the one that should have been destroyed along with their apartment during the attack. She quickly flipped through the contacts, searching frantically for Sallie May's name.

It wasn't there.

Instead, her contacts were filled with names she hadn't thought about in months—people she used to hang out with before everything went wrong. A ping made her freeze. She looked at the screen and saw a text.

"Hey, Loona. Wanna hang out later?"

It was from one of her old friends—the same one who had cut her off after the chaos in the city.

Loona's hands trembled. She shoved the phone into her pocket and bolted for the door. Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped into the living room.

And stopped dead in her tracks.

The apartment. Their old apartment. It was here.

Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. The furniture, the walls, the old TV they never bothered to upgrade—everything was exactly as it had been before it was destroyed.

"What the hell…" Loona whispered, stepping forward.

Blitz's door opened, and he stepped out, looking just as shaken. His eyes darted around the room before locking onto Loona.

"What the fuck is this?" Blitz asked, his voice tense.

Loona pointed a trembling hand at him. "I was about to ask you! Is this some kind of prank?!"

Blitz shook his head. "No way. I have no idea what's going on."

Feeling the weight of the moment crushing down on her, Loona spun toward the window and yanked the blinds open. Her breath hitched.

Outside, Imp City stretched out before her. But it wasn't the same city she remembered. The buildings that had been damaged or still under construction after the attacks were now perfectly intact. The skyline looked untouched, like the chaos had never happened.

Her eyes fell to the street below—and there it was.

The IMP van. Parked right out front. Pristine, undamaged, like it had never been wrecked during the chaos.

Loona stumbled back from the window, her breathing uneven. Her tail flicked nervously, her claws lightly digging into her palms as panic started bubbling up.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Blitz stood beside her, his face pale and his eyes darting as he tried to process what he was seeing.

Loona stared at him, fear beginning to creep into her voice. "Dad… what the fuck is happening?"