Chapter Four

Ends of the Earth

Week One, Day Five - Charlie's, Vaggie's and Emily's bedroom, early morning:

"GOOD MORNING! GOOD MORNING! GOOD MORNING!"

The young seraphim flew about the room nakedly, greeting the day. She had been the middle spoon.

"Good morning to you too, Emily!" Charlie said with a smile, yawning and stretching.

Vaggie pretended to still be asleep. Even after Emily blasted the air above their beds with angelic confetti. But her little groan gave it away.

Emily landed, pouncing Vaggie.

"Morning people deserve to go to Hell," Vaggie grumbled playfully, eye remaining resolutely closed. Charlie snickered.

"Ready for your big day?" Charlie asked Emily as the angel gave Vaggie a wake-up kiss that got their wife to open her eye.

Emily broke the kiss and sat upright, straddling Vaggie, fluttering her wings. "Yes! Today, another soul will be free!"

Vaggie sighed. "Well, at least the view is nice. And I can smell Husk making coffee." Charlie was pretty sure she couldn't. Not from the second floor, through closed doors. "Almost."

"Oh, Charlie, don't move!" Emily insisted, jumping off the bed and dancing to the dresser to fetch a jar and a kit. Charlie smiled, knowing what was coming. Moments later, Emily had pulled the covers off of her and was sitting with Charlie's hooves in her lap, treating them to a polish.

It was a pleasant pampering, and more than a fair trade for getting to preen her wives.

Once she was done, Emily kissed each of Charlie's hooves. Then bounded back to the dresser to put the cream and kit away. Charlie marveled whimsically at how shiny her hooves were.

Does Alastor ever do this? He should.

Probably not. The benefit of angelic wives. Vaggie was sitting up and scooted closer, extending her wings so she could wrap one around Charlie. "They look nice."

Charlie nodded. Then teased, "Do you want to kiss them too?"

"Yes," Vaggie replied. "But there are parts of you I want to kiss even more. And we've got a day ahead. So help me prioritize."

Charlie turned and took Vaggie into a kiss. She could hear Emily squeak happily.

A moment later, she felt Emily sit on the edge of the bed. Vaggie broke the kiss and they turned to look at her. Emily's smile wasn't quite as bright as before, almost certainly having something to do with the two golden scrolls in her hands.

"What are those?" Vaggie asked.

"I'm sorry for adding something unpleasant to the morning," Emily apologized. "I've been looking for the right time, but... the right time was nearly eight months ago."

Emily handed the two scrolls to Charlie. "You don't have to read them, or open them, or anything. You can just burn them if you want."

Charlie took them, confused. Emily clearly saw that confusion, for she quickly explained. "That first meeting you had with Adam? He was supposed to deliver a Proclamation telling you that the next Extermination would be in six months. The Proclamation also stated why. Which would have given you more time to prepare, if not the information you needed to protest it when you came to Heaven's Court." Emily frowned. "He clearly didn't want that. So he made up the other one that just says Bad-word you I do what I want!"

Charlie remembered. Adam's vile, mocking song. The golden backup dancers from nowhere. The proclamation shoved in her face.

Emily couldn't keep the anger out of her voice. Or out of the air around her, as flickering Holy light ruffled her hair and sent small flashes across her halo. "And then, because Adam couldn't let anyone know he'd falsified a Proclamation, instead of giving it to you, he kept it."

Charlie wasn't sure why that last part was so surprising. But Charlie was more concerned with the light show. She'd seen Emily angry. But this was new.

"Um... it's all right. It's over. And it worked out for the best, right?" Vaggie asked, clearly surprised herself. "Better than best, since I have both of you. So, um... are you okay there, love?"

Emily sighed, the light show giving a final flash as the younger seraphim faceplanted into the bedspread. "I'm just so nervous! The demonstration for the Overseers is today. And there's the wedding. And I'm supposed to look at wedding dresses this afternoon. And... and..."

Charlie moved simultaneously with Vaggie to pull their naked, anxiety-ridden wife into an embrace.

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel parlor, early morning:

The throuple made it down to the parlor to find most of the hotel's guests and staff already there. Vaggie spotted Vanexa sitting beneath the edge of the bar, reading a book. She was dressed in a black BDSM-harness-thing that was apparently the only thing Angel Dust had in his closet which fit her.

"I could offer her my Heavenly raiment," Emily said, noticing Vaggie's expression. "But then I wouldn't have anything, since I can only summon one."

"Subtle." Vaggie rolled her eye.

Emily shot her a pouty look, then crossed her arms and took off into the air. "Chaaaaarlie! Vaggie's being mean!"

Vaggie moved for the coffee. And in association, the bar and Husk.

Crymini darted past her and stole the stool Vaggie had been aiming for. "Hey gramps! Fill me a thermos!" She brought out a thermos that had Cherri Bomb's personal logo.

As Husk took it, Crymini spun towards Charlie (who was giving Emily headpats), asking, "Mom! Any lesson plans today?"

Charlie smiled back. "Not today, Crymini. Husk and Emily have a thing with Alastor, and dad's coming by about wedding stuff."

Crymini grabbed the filled thermos back from Husk. "Great! I'm going out."

As the puppy teen raced past her, Charlie called out, "But be sure you're here tomorrow. I've got a lesson planned on Honest and Open Communication!"

"Hey! Before you go...!" Angel Dust called out after her, but Crymini was already out the door. "Fuck. Well, later then."

"A lesson about honesty?"

Vaggie felt the briefest alarm, like a razor scraping her backbone, at Lute's voice behind her. But the pointless fear had already evaporated by the time she turned around.

"Isn't that the one lesson we don't need?" Lute asked. "I've never lied. I was just wrong about everything. There's a difference."

Lute stared at Vaggie. "We both know you're a terrible liar. And I can't imagine Charlie's much better."

Lute switched her focus to Emily. "You... are actually worse at it."

Vaggie held back her desire to growl.

Lute rolled her eyes. "Astonishingly, I've only met two souls in Hell who could convince anyone of something untrue. One is Angel Dust, who managed to act like he was enjoying himself while working for that worm Valentino. And the other is Velvette, who somehow managed to convince all of Hell that Vaggie has sex appeal."

"Ojalá en tu próxima vida, te reencarnes en papel higiénico," Vaggie spat.

Lute smirked all of the smirking.

Charlie was quick to chide. "Lute, that wasn't nice."

"Or true!" Emily insisted. "Vaggie has lots of sex appeal."

"Emily's right," Angel Dust agreed. Vaggie felt grateful for the support. For about two seconds before Angel Dust pulled out one of those calendars. "Even if you're not into girls, you can't say April, June and September aren't hot."

Vaggie just glared.

"Hey Vaggie." Lute stepped closer and held an envelope towards her. "You have mail."

She watched as Vaggie took it and looked it over. No address or return address. Simply a name on the front:

Vagyna

Vaggie's expression hardened. Part of her wanted to rip it up immediately without opening it. She looked around. "Where did this come from?"

"Outside," Lute told her. The one-armed fallen Exorcist had backed off, but was watching her expectantly. So were several others. Including Charlie now.

"Vaggie, what is it?" Charlie asked, walking towards her.

Vaggie decided to find out. She pulled out her spear, using it as a letter opener. Then pulled out the page inside.

Dearest Vagyna,

Happy upcoming nuptials to my best model!

As an early wedding gift, here is a voucher for one (1) free wedding dress of your choice from Velvette's, off the rack or custom, style of your choice, tailored to yourself (tailoring also on Velvette's). Redeemable only by and for yourself. Valid until your wedding.

Love and kisses,

Velvette

Vaggie stared at it. "What the actual fuck?"

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel bar, early morning:

Husk took a drink from his Fuck Mondays cup as Emily sat across the bar from him. She was watching Niffty set up the table for breakfast. There was a soft flash as Emily briefly took her full seraphim form, staring at the frantic, tiny woman.

"Even knowing it's there and exactly what to look for - even like this - I can barely make it out," Emily said. Husk knew what she was referring to. One mystery solved: why Emily couldn't see Niffty's chain. It was a blank Contract.

Husk's eyebrows raised as the Radio Demon took a seat at the bar.

"A cup, my good Husker," Alastor said with a light radio crackle. "Want to be chipper for Emily's big day."

Emily laughed nervously. But didn't edge away from him this time. She'd taken a chain to save Alastor's life. Even though it was short-lived. Husk wasn't sure that earned respect from the Overlord, but their relationship was definitely less antagonistic.

"So, what can we expect going in," Husk asked, "Given that one of the Overlords was assassinated less than four days ago?"

"Well, nobody thinks it was either of you, so you'll be fine," Alastor assured him with accompanying canned laughter. "But don't worry. I'll be there to protect you if Vox or Velvette try to pull something."

Not through any benevolence, Husk was sure. But a free reason to take out another of the Vees?

Terrific. Husk's eyes narrowed. On top of everything else, I'll need to watch for Alastor provoking a situation he could use to take out a rival.

Emily was staring at Alastor quietly.

"I'd tell you to take a picture, my dear, but that seraphim memory of yours..."

"You have less chains than you did yesterday," Emily said softly.

Husk saw Alastor's expression tighten. The whole room seemed to get deathly quiet.

"Not many," Emily continued to whisper. "But I can tell."

Alastor's eyes narrowed dangerously, glowing along with his smile. He leaned forward on the bar and stared at Emily."Let's just keep that little secret between us, shall we?"

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel parlor, early morning:

Vaggie sat in the parlor, drinking her coffee. The page from Velvette was on the coffee table in front of her. She stared at it and told herself again that she should tear it up and throw it away. Velvette was fucking with her. Again. The bitch just wouldn't stop.

But...

But it would be nice. To have a real wedding dress. A gorgeous one. Like the ones she dreamed of as a little girl, and knew by her teenage years would be denied to her. Weddings and wedding dresses were for girls who married a boy.

Would it hurt to just look? See what Velvette's offered?

Yes. Yes it would.

Vaggie turned her attention away. Her gaze fell on the bar in time to see Husk make a little tugging motion. Vanexa responded by obediently shifting a few feet closer.

Vaggie's brow furrowed. What the hell?

Husk was leaning over the bar and talking to her now, his voice low. Vanexa didn't look up at him, but one ear was tilted his way. She was listening.

"...And you get a cell phone!" Angel Dust said, passing her one of the last from the box he was carrying. "That makes everyone but Alastor and Crymini."

Vaggie took the cell phone, turning it over in her hands. The moth angel looked up to Angel Dust. "You and Vanexa are friends, right?"

"We were coworkers, and she was a good one," Angel Dust said. "But I wouldn't call us friends."

Vaggie could relate. "How well do you know her?"

"Not very," Angel Dust admitted, sitting down next to Vaggie. "What Valentino put me through was worse than Hell. I was in an endless spiral of despair, just hoping my bad ending didn't come tomorrow. I thank Emily every day that she broke my chain." The spider demon frowned. "At the time, I really wasn't focused on the people around me."

"And now?" Angel Dust waved a hand towards the pornographically-bodied vixen. "Vanexa can't handle not wearing one. She couldn't even go a day. How can I relate to that?"

Vaggie nodded, drinking more of her coffee. "I still don't understand why she would do that," she said. "Do you know?"

"No. But I got my suspicions." He watched as the vixen shifted where she was sitting, moving a little closer to Husk as if trying to add comfortable slack to the chain that only she saw or felt.

"For one thing, Vanexa is deeply submissive," Angel Dust told her. "I know. She looks like a dom. And she can play that role exceptionally well. But she ain't."

"I mean, look at what she's wearing," He chuckled. "Ain't like she don't have her own clothes. Her own place. Least 'till the end of the month. She wanted to wear that. To help settle in."

Oh. Vaggie didn't know what to make of that.

"For another, if you sell your soul, you don't have it to sell anymore." The spider demon frowned.

"The Vees bury lesser Deals in their Terms of Service. Zestial has a reputation for torturing a Sinner's loved ones to death repeatedly in front of them until they break and sign. And Alastor?" Angel Dust gave her a knowing grimace. "Whoah boy. I hear he'll hold back information vital to the survival of you and everyone you hold dear unless you agree to his terms."

Vaggie caught the tightening in Charlie's shoulders as she averted her eyes. She was listening. And no matter what her love's relationship was with the Radio Demon now, that hit home.

"Vex doesn't talk about her past, so I can't say for sure what her story is. But for some, it's better to have nothing the Overlords want. So they have no reason to pay attention to you."

Week One, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel, breakfast:

Lucifer had arrived just in time for breakfast. Charlie hadn't expected to see him until the afternoon, so it was a pleasant surprise.

"We've decided Vaggie will be waiting at the altar," Charlie told her father while serving herself more eggs. "With you giving me away and Sera giving Emily away, of course." She cast a glance at Vaggie to make sure she was okay. Vaggie didn't have anyone close who could give her away. So instead, Vaggie was the one she and Emily were being given too. Only fair. Vaggie really was the one who initiated everything.

When Vaggie smiled back, Charlie thought she caught a little sadness. She knew why. Vaggie's words from a month ago floated back to her:

It's another thing to realize that there wasn't a single angel up there who cared that I went missing and looked into it.

Well, things were different now.

"I've decided to go with a tux," Charlie announced to absolutely nobody's surprise. "Emily and Vaggie will have beautiful wedding dresses. Emily's going up to Heaven this evening to get a new variation for her Heavenly raiments."

"And how about you, Vaggie?" Lucifer asked.

"Uh..." Vaggie looked aside. "I dunno. I was thinking something from Hannibal's..."

"Oh, that would be lovely," Alastor chimed in. "Another shortstack please, Charlie. The pancakes, not your father."

Charlie just sighed as her dad and Alastor stared at each other again. Their peacock fighting was getting less frequent, but never less annoying. At least Alastor wasn't trying to use her anymore. That apology of his, poison-induced as it had been, seemed to be genuine.

Charlie turned away from the two of them, and her gaze fell on Niffty. Who had a notepad and pen in hand, and was vibrating as she took notes.

Oh no.

Charlie slipped out of her seat and moved around the table to crouch down next to Niffty. She got Niffty's attention, looking the Hazbin Hotel's maid in the eye.

"Niffty, please tell me you're not shipping my dad and Alastor now," Charlie managed to squeak out without having an aneurysm.

"Huh? No!" Niffty said to Charlie's immediate relief. Then added, "Everybody does Radioapple. I like the rare ones."

What.

"Niffty," Charlie whispered, glad for once that her father and Alastor were preoccupied with their sniping, "Who is everybody?"

Niffty told her.

"What?!" Charlie wheezed, asking in a strangled whine.

Week One, Day Five - Doomsday District, morning:

Crymini stalked up to the dilapidated building she had internally dubbed the Roo Shit House. She sniffed at the air. The same horrible scents as yesterday.

"At least one of you fuckers should be back by now," the puppy demon grumbled. She moved cautiously forward and began to check her traps.

"Hope you don't mind my borrowing your toys, Big Sis," Crymini prayed as she checked the first tripline, tracking it back to the hidden grenade. She slipped sideways, avoiding where she had placed the mines, and scrambled up onto the porch.

The doorway was rigged with semtex, set up just how Cherri had taught her. Charges were ready to turn the glass of the window into a blender. Nothing silver. She wanted one of these fuckers alive.

Crymini scrambled up the storm drain and entered through the one window she had kept safe for her own use. Then shoved the bookshelf just inside across the opening so no one could follow. Just in case she was being watched by something she couldn't smell.

She pulled the old boombox off the bookshelf, leaving it empty save for a few water-damaged books and a ratty old teddy bear that was probably the house mascot. Too creepy to toss.

Crymini made her way downstairs, checking everything. The pawfull of eyes in the walls and ceiling stared back at her.

When she reached the living room, she stopped to look at the Sign of Roo spray painted on the wall. And sneezed cutely. The air was full of little motes of decay, dancing in the reddish light of the morning.

I've seen a limo that swallows its passengers and drives itself. I live in a hotel that is a cat. My blood may or may not carry an angel plague. I have seen fifteen flavors of Other. I am not scared of a bunch of dickless thugs playing Cult of the Dumb.

Crymini set down the boombox and tuned it to the screams. Souls trapped in eternal anguish and existential terror, bleating for the chorus of a Demon's radio. Certain to draw attention.

Every trap needed bait, after all.

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel, late morning:

Charlie hugged her father. "You go run your errands. I'll see you this afternoon. We'll go tux hunting."

"Those tuxes will never know what hit 'em," Lucifer said a little too jovially as Charlie stepped back, holding his hands in hers.

Charlie felt the absence. Her finger rubbed where her dad's ring should be and he snatched his hands away.

"Dad?"

Lucifer gave a forced laugh, blowing it off. "I mean, if your mother's having flings with angels, maybe it's time I get back into the game, right? I knew... the separation wasn't temporary. I was just... lying to myself."

Charlie felt her eyes mist as she looked at every line in his face. Every part of the crumbling facade. "Dad, is this why you haven't been around for a month?"

She knew what she was seeing. This was more than just long-delayed grief. That would have been bad enough.

Her father struggled with depression. And the news about her mother couldn't have done anything healthy for him. Worse, there were antidepressants he could take that would help, but with Sera and Belphegor together, she doubted he was able to force himself to get them.

Lucifer couldn't meet her gaze. So he pivoted to clowning. Like he always did.

Charlie didn't let him. She embraced him again. Hard.

Week One, Day Five - Pentagram City, late morning:

Rosie was waiting for them outside the elevators. "Alastor. There you are." She smiled, moving to give him a hug. "And Emily. How's my favorite angel?"

"Still ticklish," Emily told her with a smile. "I checked to make sure last night."

Rosie chuckled. "Fine, then how is my second favorite angel?"

"I'm good."

Rosie turned to Husk. "And how are you, Husker? How's it feeling to be back at the table?"

Husk rumbled pleasantly, "I'm not there yet. Just an observer. And today it's all about Emily. I'm just here to help make sure everything goes smoothly."

Rosie was nodding to that when the limo pulled up, the heavy techno-slick beat resounding from within, only to grow louder as the back doors opened for Velvette and Vox to step out.

"Alastor."

"Vox."

The two Overlords locked stares. Then promptly walked to separate elevators. Vox had a smug expression when his started to rise first.

Velvette huffed. "Boys." Then turned her attention to her phone as she entered the final elevator. After a moment, she stuck out a hand to block the doors from closing and looked at the three still in the alley. "You shitstains coming?"

Rosie caught Emily's brief shock.

Husk stepped aside, holding out an arm and a wing. "Ladies first." He fell in behind them. "And Velvette, since she's already there."

"Up yours, you angel-juiced bar rag," Velvette shot back, still holding the elevator for them.

Emily rustled her wings anxiously.

Husk took Emily by the hand. "You good?"

Emily nodded, looking nervous but resolute. He doubted she was intimidated by the Overlords and their power. She was the High Seraphim of Heaven, after all. So he suspected she was worried for the soul she was about to free. Even with luck on her side, this was a risky business.

Emily swallowed. Husk saw eyes open along her back, looking at Rosie and Velvette.

Or she's seeing a whole lot more chains than she was anticipating.

Alastor had lost chains. Husk knew why. He was carrying a bunch of them for Alastor himself. Based on what Angel Dust had told him about his Contract with Valentino, Velvette and Vox had just gained large portions of the dead Overlords. He knew of no reason Rosie would be provoking extra looks from the seraphim... unless that was where Alastor was depositing his missing chains.

That would make sense. Which meant Alastor was preparing to meet his chain holder.

Husk scowled.

FUCK. I was right.

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel bar, late morning:

Charlie's head collapsed to the bar counter, her phone held limply in one hand. "Uuuugh! There are more people writing... those scenes between my father and Alastor than people who want to stay at the hotel! How is this happening!?"

Angel Dust pulled the phone from her hand. "Let me see." He begins scrolling and reading. "Okay, it's not that popular, Charlie. I mean, number one trending is Roses and Thorns which..." He snorts a laugh. "Oh wow. Vaggie learns that Carmilla Carmine is her mother, and the two try to reconnect. Tags: incest."

Charlie pulled her head up to shoot him an appalled look.

In the parlor behind her, Lute watched. She said nothing, and nobody paid her any attention as she surreptitiously recorded the scene on the phone Velvette had given her.

Angel Dust covered his snickering with a free hand. "Damn. What have they got here for me?"

After a moment of scrolling. "Mostly, me and Husk. Rwoar! God damn I wish! Me and Vaggie. Eeeh. Me and Molly... fuck no, but I expected that. Me and Niffty? Me and Alastor... Yeah, apparently the only person who sleeps around more than me is Vaggie."

"Whaaaaat?" Charlie whined again.

"I know, right? I should totally have the top spot," Angel Dust laughed.

Vanexa stood up and leaned onto the counter. "Any for me?"

"You literally just got here," Angel Dust retorted. But he checked anyway. "Oop. There's already four. All started yesterday. First one's just a quick page of smut. The others are on their first chapter." He passed Charlie's phone briefly to the vixen. "Wonder how they learned so quickly. It's not like we advertised you are here."

"Fifinella writes good smut," Vanexa mused, reading porn about herself. She pulled up Charlie's email and sent herself the link before passing the phone back to her former coworker. "Val could have learned a thing or two."

Angel Dust made a face as he took the phone. He tapped at it a few times. And scowled.

"Oh. Yeah, half of the top ten ships have Vaggie in it." The spider demon looked at Charlie. "This is one of Velvette's empowered algorithms again, back in a new form." A few more taps. "And for the next two weeks, the site is doing a contest for wedding-themed stories to celebrate your impending nuptials. Who knew Velvette was so sweet?"

Charlie glared at him.

As he handed back Charlie's phone, he added with consideration, "Y'know, it takes a lot more time to write stories than create AI art. Velvette must have started the ball rolling on this... well before Victor, I'm guessing. But that contest started two days ago, so this is an active game of Messing with Moth Girl."

"Please don't show this to Vaggie," Charlie whined, putting away her phone. She looked at Angel Dust, and her expression hardened at his grin. "Angel!"

With a slight feeling of panic, Charlie pulled her phone back out, bringing up her email and checking recent outgoing messages. There it was.

"Angel!" she scolded as she started frantically typing a DO NOT READ LAST MESSAGE email.

Vaggie's scream of frustrated rage thundered from the back rooms, telling Charlie it was too late.

Week One, Day Five - Pentagram City, late morning:

"And what, exactly, is your role here, Husker?" Alastor asked, the level of distortion in his voice practically broadcasting that he already knew the answer. "Or are you just here for moral support?"

"I heard this was a poker game," Husk blatantly fibbed, getting a wispy rumble of a chuckle from the head of the table.

Sitting next to Zestial, Carmilla's eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to intuit the reason Alastor would push that to the forefront.

The High Seraphim answered for him. "The process of breaking a pact chain and freeing a soul is risky. Husk is here to lend the luck needed to make sure the soul I am going to free doesn't perish in the process."

Carmilla noted the angel's choice of nomenclature. Husk, not Husker.

She likewise absorbed the details the angel was providing. She suspected Alastor wanted to ensure everyone at the table viewed this as something too difficult and rare to be the threat the Vees tried to make it out to be.

"Because it is risky, even with luck on my side, this is not something I will do lightly, no matter how much I might want to," Emily added.

The High Seraphim of Heaven turned her attention directly on Carmilla. She felt a jolt of fear that she did not express, finding herself under the scrutiny of the leader of Heaven. Carmilla was reasonably certain she had nothing to fear from the seraphim in this meeting, especially with their tenuous alliance beneath the table. But in that moment, she was all too aware of the history between herself and the Exorcists.

"And because I won't do this lightly," Emily said to her. "I want to know a little about the soul I am freeing, their relationship to you, and the reason they were chosen."

Carmilla Carmine nodded. She had been ready for that. "Fair enough. The demon is a scientist who has worked for me for the better part of a decade. His work included perfecting the art of applying angelic steel to modern weaponry, such that firearms incorporating angelic steel imbued that lethality to each bullet fired without the bullets themselves having to be made of the material..."

At the far end of the table, Velvette's eyes widened. She exchanged a look with Vox then stared back at Carmilla, whispering under her breath, "No fucking way."

Carmilla gave Husk a slight smile. "...Such as the modified tommy guns I provided to a friend of yours before the Battle at the Hazbin Hotel."

Her eyes turned back to Emily. "I am sure you understand why I consider it unwise to sell weapons that would leave any amount of angelic steel behind in the environment."

A certain woman's angelic shrapnel explosives notwithstanding. There were limits to how scrupulous one should be when facing genocide.

"Tell that to the person who blew up Valentino," Velvette spat, her mood having quickly turned sour.

"If I knew who that was, I would," Carmilla challenged, staring calmly back at Velvette. "Do you have a disclosure?"

"Not yet," Velvette admitted, crossing her arms beneath her bosom and glowering.

Carmilla noted the woman wasn't on her phone. It had disappeared the moment she had mentioned blessing-tipped firearms. And that was barely the beginning of her little scientist's shocking resume.

With a knowing glance at Alastor, Carmilla added, "Before that, he bounced between several parties. I believe he even played 'Igor' for a while to a recent acquaintance of yours. But that was decades ago."

Alastor's eyes narrowed. Carmilla listened for the flare of static which usually accompanied that change of expression, but there wasn't one. Radio silence.

"As for his Contract with me, that was at his initiation," Carmilla continued. "He had been researching the Other and had designs to build a laboratory within it. He wanted a way he could be summoned out of it should the integrity fail."

Carmilla saw Husk's face fall, a look of something approaching dread in his eyes.

"He is now convinced it will hold, and no longer believes he needs the chain," Carmilla concludes. "I have received my investment in him many times over, and am willing to let him free to pursue his own brilliance."

"Would you like to meet him?"

Week One, Day Five - Charlie's, Vaggie's and Emily's bedroom, noon:

Lute watched Niffty clean. "Sure you don't want a hand?" she offered.

"Nope!"

Lute had expected the offer to be rejected. She wasn't really interested in making Vaggie's room nice. But just standing there when her friend was racing about felt a bit wrong. Lute had never been one to stand back and let others do the work. She liked getting her hands bloody.

Lute readied her phone as Niffty finished polishing the doorknobs. She watched as the frantic maid pulled out Charlie's Secret Whiteboard and began to clean the edge.

Holy fuck.

Lute began taking pictures.

Niffty stopped, looking it over. "Oooh, missing angels? Like Vaggie?"

Lute flinched.

"Sequestered," Lute suggested. It was a guess, but how else would angel's disappear? The Exorcists didn't leave women behind.

Except for when we did.

Pictures acquired and compiled into a message. She'd look at these more deeply, but for now she just wanted to get Velvette on the same page.

Her finger hovered over the send button.

She couldn't. She felt the heavy collar about her neck. The weight of the chain. Her finger wouldn't move.

Fuck.

"Hey, Niffty?" Her friend looked up at her as Lute presented her phone. "Could you push this button for me?"

Week One, Day Five - Pentagram City, noon:

"What the fuck is all this?" Husk asked, taking in the science equipment that lined every inch of wallspace in the room Carmilla Carmine had led them to. There were monitors, cameras and recording devices everywhere, some of which had been torn apart and modified with Lucifer-didn't-know-what. And a giant bullseye painted in the center of all of it.

"It's Science!" barked an anglerfish demon in a lab coat as he rushed around the room, checking his equipment and making last minute adjustments with the frantic energy of a cockroach on fire - a mental image only heightened by the fact the demon was barely taller than Niffty. "Try not to touch or breathe on anything."

"Well I know what those sales went to," Vox said with a voice as flat as his face.

Behind the rest of the Overlords, Missi Zilla crouched to look through the doorway she couldn't fit through. "What the...? You have a science lab right next to the meeting room?"

Before Mrs. Carmine could answer, an anglerfish demon coughed a condescending laugh. "Of course not. I installed this all this morning."

"Why?" Emily asked hesitantly, inching a little closer to Husk. Holding back a cringe, she leaned and whispered in a worried tone, "Oooh, he looks so wrong."

Yeah, Seviathan warned us about putting your thoughts in the Other. Much less living in it.

Carmilla Carmine cleared her throat. "High Seraphim Emily, I would like to introduce you to Baxter."

Baxter turned to them, gave a perfunctory bow, and went back to ignoring them as he checked his equipment. Husk watched as the little guy wiggled between computer banks, trying to reach at the tangle of cords behind them.

"Holy shit," Velvette laughed. "It really is Six-Degrees-Bee."

Vox's screen crackled slightly. "You know him?"

"Sure. He builds people. Valentino bought Kitty off of him," Velvette practically purred. "I'd considered getting some custom models."

Emily turned, her stare lurching between Velvette and the barely visible Baxter who was climbing further between his equipment and the wall. "What? What do you mean, he builds people?"

Baxter's head popped out. He had heard that. "Victor sucked as a Frankenstein. Only life he was interested in making was diseases. Psycho nut. So I learned what I could from him and did it myself." He paused. "With a little help. But it was mostly myself." His head disappeared behind the computer bank again. The shadowed area lit up from the lure that hung from his head.

Emily exchanged looks with Husk. Then turned to Velvette. "He. Created. Life!?"

As if to drill the point home, Baxter's voice growled out, "Fuck! Can't reach. Frank! Bring me the spatula!"

Every part of Husk but his eyes went still with shock as he heard the familiar voice call back. "Right away, boss!"

The. Absolute. Fuck.

The former Overlord's gaze followed the egg boi who came scrambling out from inside an oversized toolbox, carrying the desired cooking utensil.

Frank paused, recognizing Alastor, and waved.

"Well, that answers that," the Radio Demon commented lightly.

Emily was continuing to process. "He created life?"

Husk's momentary paralysis broke. "Hey, uh, Frank? What happened to you? We... some of us were worried when we couldn't find you." In the rubble.

"Oh! Boss died," Frank called back while supplying his spatula delivery. "Other boss died. So went back to first boss."

There was a snapping crackle of radio static from the direction of Alastor.

Emily started breathing heavily. "I'm... going to cut the chain... of a soul who created life."

Husk saw her mounting anxiety and moved quickly to pull her into his wings. The Overlords were staring at his display of compassion for the angel. Let them. Fuck them.

"I don't know if I can do this," Emily whispered as he held her.

Husk forced himself to purr, as degrading as he found it. He knew it would soothe her. "You can."

Slowly, Emily looked into his eyes. "Give me all the luck."

"You've got it."

Baxter's voice called out, "If you're done making out with my angel, I'm ready."

Husk pulled back his wings as Emily moved away and turned to gently scold, "I'm not your angel." She added for unnecessary clarity, "I'm Charlie's and Vaggie's angel."

"Good for you," Baxter said impatiently. "How close can we be for this? I'll be standing on the bullseye, and I want you in as many shots as possible."

Emily blinked. "Um... really close." She held her hands a couple feet apart.

"Perfect. We've only got one go, so I'm going to need as much data from it as possible if I have any chance of reverse engineering this talent of yours."

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel, noon:

Angel Dust filled in behind the bar, pouring Vaggie another drink. She clearly needed it. The woman had threatened to throw furniture at Lute earlier when she realized her former nemesis was recording her reaction to Velvette's shipping website.

She didn't realize yet that the laptop he had provided for her to examine it also had its camera on. The whole scene was fucking gold.

Hey, he'd given her a fair chance over a month ago. If she was going to keep letting this get to her, he was going to enjoy it.

Vaggie stared at the screen, her demonic aspect surging.

"Hey, Vaggie!" Lute shouted down from the balcony.

Vaggie's look said she wanted to set that voice on fire. She had already kicked Lute from the room. The moth angel turned to stare all of the daggers up at Lute.

Lute raised her hand in defense. "I just wanted to say I get it. When I think of how I'd feel if someone wrote a disgusting story about me having sex with you..."

Vaggie's face fell, her eye widening in abject horror. She quickly turned back to the computer, typing in the worst of all possibilities.

Lute's smirk at the bleating sound from Vaggie caused Angel Dust to wonder if it would be safe to leave those two women in the hotel together for a weekend.

The Golden Portal interrupted that thought.

Five suitcases flew into the parlor, followed by his sister. "Hey, Molls!"

"Anthony!" Molly skittered over the couch and up to the bar. They hugged across the counter.

Molly turned to Vaggie as the spider twins broke the hug. "Vaggie? You all right?"

Vaggie's head collapsed onto the laptop's keyboard. "Noooooo!"

Molly looked back at Angel Dust with concern. Then frowned.

Dammit. He'd kept a pretty straight face, but Molly could always see through his masks. She pulled off one of her elbow-length gloves and started thwapping him with it. "Stop laughing! You shouldn't be laughing!"

Week One, Day Five - Pentagram City, noon:

Baxter was laying on the floor. The angel was straddling him.

Carmilla stood nearby, holding the owner's end of his chain. The glowing, silvery links led back to the thick collar around his neck. The collar that the angel was holding a spike made of angelic steel against.

Scientific experimentation never made him nervous. There was always a risk factor.

As the angel lifted the hammer, Baxter felt nervous.

In the very least, however, this arrangement was going to give him a wealth of data to work with. Assuming he survived. But what was the point of assuming otherwise?

His eyes flicked briefly to the nearest monitor, checking. Then even more briefly to Carmilla. Her eyes were slightly wider than normal. She was nervous too.

His eyes returned to the angel just in time to see the flare of red spades and black diamonds flash around the angelic steel spike as the hammer came down in a blur of holy light.

Week One, Day Five - The Roo Shit House, early afternoon:

The screams were a bit much, even for Crymini. Unfortunately, there was really only one radio station in Pentagram City.

The boombox took cassettes. Actual cassettes. Like it was deliberately trying not to be used.

Unfortunately for it, the gangers had somehow managed to scrounge some from someplace. After a moment's thought, it wasn't hard to figure out how and where. The tapes even looked pilfered from the Living World.

They knew the right succubus.

The thought made Crymini's head burn.

Crymini pushed one of the tapes into the player and turned it on. Hopefully, it was something she could dance to. A dancing teen in Cherri Bomb jeans was surely even better bait than Wail Radio.

The garbled, ugly noise that slouched out of the speakers was definitely oriented towards Bethlehem. It made her fangs ache and her skin feel like it was peeling off. She quickly ejected the tape and tossed it across the room.

Try two. At least be something that qualified as music, please. Low fucking bar, but Crymini didn't have much hope.

What she got sounded like a preacher holding a sermon in a mountain tunnel.

"Even now in Heaven there were angels carrying savage weapons..."

Oh fuck no.

Crymini shut it off with prejudice. She was about to commit cassetteicide when one of the grenades went off along the side of the house, followed by a scream of pain.

Her ears perked, listening for sounds of running or additional voices. She sniffed the air. A single scent. Smelled like the raven.

Crymini scrambled up the stairs on all fours, checked out a bomb-laced window to make sure the roof was clear, then pushed the bookshelf away from the safe one. Out the window and a jump from the roof. It was high, but she'd jumped from higher. She knew how to roll. And the raven demon writhing on the ground below helped break the fall.

Landing on his stomach also knocked the wind and any remaining fight from him.

Crymini rolled to her feet and was on him before he could see straight. The grenade trap had shredded enough of his lower body that she didn't have much time before he was gone again. She pulled the silver nail from her pocket. A souvenir from one of the Heaven Embassy reconstruction days. She held it over his eye, making sure he processed the threat.

"You want to respawn?" Crymini growled, her eyes glowing, her teeth growing long and sharp, dripping blood, her demonic aspect surging savagely. "Tell me about the succubus you fuckers chained up. Why her? Were there others before her? Which one of your Roo Fuckers thought that was fucking okay!?"

The raven demon rasped, shaking, cowering away from the angelic steel. From her. That's right, they were all fucking cowards in the end. They always fucking were.

"TELL ME!"

The raven demon shook his head, denying having anything to do with the succubus, anything to do with Roo, anything to do with anything. Just an innocent fucker in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Except she had his description from multiple people in the tenement he'd terrorized. Try again, motherfucker!

"Bullshit. Who painted the Sign, then? Who took that poor..."

"Ruth..." the demon raven gasped.

Fuck, I'm losing him already.

Crymini tossed aside the nail, grabbing the raven by the feathers on both sides of his head. "Yes! Tell me about Ruth!"

"Her symbol," the raven gasped. "Roo."

Week One, Day Five - Cafe Magne, early afternoon:

"So, where are we going?" Niffty asked as she skipped alongside Lute.

Lute wasn't sure. Velvette had spent a few days arranging their meeting with the Union. "Wherever the imps are," Lute answered.

"Oooh, Imp City!" Niffty assumed, looking more excited.

The imps had their own city? Lute felt a little less certain. She wasn't Vaggie; she didn't just assume she was walking invulnerability who had nothing to fear. And a whole city made for a different level of outnumbered.

Velvette was waiting for them at their table.

One look at Velvette told Lute she would never understand fashion. The woman had dyed black streaks into her hair and bound it in twin tails that made her look like an exceptionally developed loli. Velvette's purple and black ensemble had more layers than were necessary, including a ruffled micro-miniskirt (which on its own would have made Emily happy with its lack of concealment) over a slick black miniskirt (that at least kept everything decent). The leather boots had heels that were barely practical except as a weapon.

And Velvette made it all not only look good but radiate power.

"We're going to Imp City!" Niffty announced cheerfully, getting raised eyebrows from Velvette.

The social media Overlord asked Lute, "How'd the little goblin know?"

"She Nifftied it," Lute said, noticing a pair of demons across the street taking snapshots with their phones. "And she's more of a gremlin."

Niffty had found Velvette's backpack and was looking through it. Velvette didn't seem to mind, leaning over the tiny woman to ask, "Which do you prefer, Niffty? You a goblin or a gremlin?"

"GREMLIN!" Niffty cheered.

Velvette looked mildly disappointed. Lute was smiling. "Oh, and why is that?"

"Because goblins aren't real."

Lute's eyes narrowed. She looked over Niffty's clothing as she considered what she knew of the woman. Being a fifties housewife meant having grown up during World War II. Yeah, that tracked.

Niffty cheered enthusiastically. "Fifinella!" Then went back to digging in Velvette's backpack, pulling out an insanity of a shotgun.

"I'm shocked I know what she's talking about." Velvette reached down and took it from her. "Sorry, girl. Miss Kiss-My-Ass is mine."

"You named your weapon." Lute eyed the shotgun now in Velvette's hands. A Hell-spawned replication of a DP-12. Like Angel Dust's tommy guns, Lute doubted the thing had ever been manufactured. She had a hunch the Other provides.

Velvette smirked at her. "Awww, why that look? Did Adam name his dick?"

"No." He named himself after his dick. There's a difference.

Either way, Velvette had pimped it, complete with a flashy metallic-purple paint job and neon accent lights. The name Miss Kiss-My-Ass was emblazoned across the muzzle in holographic chrome. For reasons.

Velvette began walking. Lute nudged Niffty and followed. The tiny woman zipped up the backpack and hefted it casually, hurrying after.

"The Union are in Imp City. Where is that?" Lute asked.

"Imp City's in the same Ring, but a different circle," Velvette told her. "We're gonna be crossing the border. Bit of a trip. We'll be taking Princess."

The motorcycle, an approximation of a Kawasaki Ninja pimped with an even more excessive amount of glamour, was sitting in the side alley next to Cafe Magne. "Gremlin gets the sidecar," Velvette told her, pulling two helmets out of it and tossing one to Niffty.

The Overlord smirked playfully. "Figure you could use a few hours hugging a girl."

Lute rolled her eyes. "Niff, when we get back, can you tell Vaggie I spent a few hours riding the Princess?"

"Okay!"

Lute smiled sharply. That alone would make the trip worth it.

"The meeting is at the Witching Hour," Velvette told her. "So we'll be grabbing a hotel room to wind down from the trip and prepare. Get some food. Little rest if you need it."

Lute nodded. Velvette was doing this the way Lute herself would want to. The hour was odd. She wondered if it was psychological. Or if Famine was just stronger in the Witching Hour. It would make a strange sort of sense.

"I wouldn't count on meeting your Horseman," Velvette told them as she put on the other helmet. Lute wouldn't need one. "But we're going to meet your Famine's right hand." With a smirk to Niffty, Velvette added, "Another top squares demon."

Niffty cackled eagerly. "We have the full set!"

As long as none of the ones Charlie has are wrong, Lute thought. "You sure?"

"Fits the pattern," Velvette told her. "Sinner demon who was a mob boss in life. Dropped into Pentagram City and started reorganizing, pissing off a few Overlords in the process." Velvette moved about Princess, locking her shotgun into a mounted holster and making checks.

"Vanished two months after the Union's mystery backer; came back at the same time, suddenly under their employ, spearheading the aggressive acquisition or elimination of every rival in the shipping and smuggling business."

Lute had to agree. Sounded like their final top square. A little surprising that the Union in Imp City was run by a Sinner demon, but that only made the pattern feel stronger. The only Hellborn to be offered a Horse was Princess Pineapple-on-Pizza. And she didn't even get the chance to take it.

"Name's Arackniss," Velvette said, mounting Princess. "And he controls the Union's operations throughout Pride."

Lute climbed aboard behind her, pressing close, wrapping her single arm about the smaller woman, hoping not to get an armful of her breasts or a mouthful of her hair.

Velvette's outfit made the former hard. The material was slightly slick, and the contours kept guiding her arm to wedge beneath the woman's bosom. But the Overlord's twin tails were a huge help in avoiding the latter. Lute found herself appreciating that fashion choice a lot more.

Niffty let out a whoop from the sidecar as Velvette gunned the motorcycle and it shot out into the street, weaving through traffic with a nimbleness it should not have had.

Week One, Day Five - The Roo Shit House, afternoon:

Crymini paced around the re-dead raven ganger.

Okay. Okay. Okay.

The fucker was delirious, not to mention a fucking liar. And he wasn't particularly coherent.

Crymini stopped as she nearly stepped on her silver nail. She picked it up and began moving away from the house, using the path cleared by the explosion. She was a bit frantic, and absolutely not in the right frame of mind to be around a shithole she had booby trapped.

Okay. Think. Okay.

First things first: Ruth wasn't fucking Roo. That was some top level bullshit. If that was even what the trashbird had even been trying to say.

But it did leave something she hadn't considered: the possibility that the succubus had been the cultist. That these fucks had moved in, found her and her Sign of Roo, and took...

Or he was just completely full of shit. Those tapes sure didn't paint a picture of mental stability.

Except they looked like something from the Living World.

Crymini wished she had a cell phone. She should have pocketed somebody's. But it would have had to be Charlie's. Mom was the only person she knew who had a phone number to St. An's. The one thing she absolutely couldn't do was go talk to Ruth herself.

She needed an angel. Or a hellborn.

Crymini started back towards the Hazbin Hotel. Then stopped.

What the fuck am I doing?

Crymini slowly wrapped her arms around herself.

Cherri Bomb died. Right in front of her. Pretty fucking traumatically. But she wasn't dead-dead. She was angel-dead. Crymini would even get to see her, probably.

Was she trying to get revenge? For Cherri Bomb becoming an angel? Revenge for Ruth... because of what it did to her Big Sis? For some succubus she didn't know who may or may not have been part of a fucked-up cult?

The puppy teen hugged herself. Pressing Cherri Bomb's clothing into her fur, taking in the scent of her.

Right in front of me while I fucking froze.

Week One, Day Five - Belphegor's Estate, afternoon:

Emily walked down the ornate hall, its white marble decor painted pink by the light from the windows.

She had freed a soul. A soul who created life. She knew the others didn't understand why she valued that. Any mother and father created life. But this was different. Baxter had created life wholesale.

From the dust of the earth.

Like Sera.

The seraphim swallowed as she reached the door to Sera's room.

Emily had sat on this for days, giving her sister space while formulating the right approach. At some point, it became less about getting the passcode and more about trying to understand her sister's reaction. She assumed her sister didn't have anything against rain, so that left her wondering what else was locked away in that part of Heaven's administrative computer. As far as Emily had been able to glean, that subsystem was purely environmental, primarily used in the past to make new districts whenever Heaven needed to expand. Which it would need to do as soon as Charlie's hotel because a roaring success with souls ascending daily.

Okay, sure, reality insisted that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. But the dream in her head was so real she could taste it.

What else was in there? Was Sera hiding something? Or was it actually just what she was told, and Sera was afraid Emily would mess up and accidentally delete the Science District, or turn the Lenticular Gardens into a swimming pool with a typo?

Emily shook the thoughts from her head. She wanted to have more faith in her sister than that. Yes, she had made mistakes. Big, big, horrible, truly awful, downright evil mistakes. But Sera was sorry and she was trying to be better.

Emily knocked on the door to Sera's room. A playful rap. Cheer-and-good-tid-ings. To you.

It had been Sera's bedroom. But Sera was sleeping with Belphegor now. Emily smiled a little at that thought. It was, apparently, a "lazy" relationship. She wasn't even sure sex was involved. The younger seraphim tried to picture her older sister as a cuddler. But she couldn't. The image just wouldn't form. Either way, this room had been turned into a private musical conservatory. With a bed. A bedatory.

"Come in, Emily," her sister called. Emily made a guess, opened the door, and saw she was right. Sera was in bed. Sitting propped up on the headboard, reading a Contract. She wondered whose.

"Something Husk has you working on?" Emily ventured. In the past three days, more Sinners had shown up on the Hazbin Hotel's doorstep looking for Husk. All of them former slaves of Valentino. None of them wanting arrangements as bizarre or simple as Vanexa. So far, he hadn't sealed any more Deals. That she knew of.

Her sister nodded, pushing the glowing golden document aside. It hung in the air. Emily stared at it a moment. Sera didn't have the power to do that herself. So Husk must be lending some of his to her. Which meant some of Sera's own power back to her. Which, to a stubborn part of her, made the whole thing seem even more absurd and pointless. Which it wasn't. But...

Emily frowned, her eyes flitting to the chain on Sera's wrist then resolutely away. She wasn't a fan of that Contract. Even less so when its use made her head swim.

Sera caught that. But also caught that Emily had looked away and wasn't saying anything. So she didn't mention it either. "I'm happy to see you. What brings you by?"

Emily sat down on the nearest chair. "I was alarmed by your reaction the other day when I asked for that code," Emily started cautiously. She hurried to add, "I'm not asking for it. I just want to know why you reacted that way. Is there something wrong?"

Sera's composure instantly stiffened. Emily could see her force herself to put on a relaxed countenance. "It will never rain in Heaven. Even if I am no longer up there. I made a promise."

Oooookay, maybe the code wasn't concealing some dark secret. Emily immediately thought of Keekee and the cat's apparent dual fascination and loathing of the hotel's showers. "To a cat angel?"

Emily promptly felt foolish having suggested that.

Sera frowned. Then firmly told her, "Some of the things I never told you were for good reasons. This is one of them. Please leave it alone."

Emily flinched. More secrets. Apparently a lot more. And bad ones. She frowned at her sister. But she remembered watching the record of Vaggie's maiming. It still gave her nightmares. She still woke up and just stared at Vaggie sometimes, needing to see that she was okay.

Still, she remembered that dream for the hotel. "I am going to need to know that code sooner or later," Emily insisted gently. "Heaven will need to grow to accommodate the souls the Hazbin Hotel will help find redemption."

Sera stared. Then looked down. Slumped. To Emily's dismay, her big sister looked defeated.

"In that case, you will need to know why Heaven needs to be bright and sunny every day." Sera's voice scared Emily a little. "You should come back later with Charlie and Vaggie."

"O-okay," Emily nodded. If Sera was telling her she would need Emotional Support Wives for this conversation, it was going to be Very Bad.

Please, please, please Sera don't be the villain.

Week One, Day Five - Hazbin Hotel, afternoon:

"Imp City, here we come!" Angel Dust called out as he threw a couple bags into the trunk of Morningstar limo. As he closed the trunk, he watched Razzle toggle the driver's side power window with the key fob and fly in. That was fun. The previous limo didn't have that feature.

"I'm glad I'm not driving anymore," Angel Dust announced. "Last time I did, I nearly pulled a Vagyna."

"I'm going to need a lot more context for that," Molly told him as she walked past, moving to the door that Husk was holding open for her.

"Angels and ladies first," Husk purred.

"Hey, I qualify as both," Angel Dust insisted, adjusting the bosom of his dress to make his point.

"No you don't," Molly replied, "Though the belly cutout and the frills really work for you."

Molly was more than happy to let him be a lady, but resolutely refused to accept him as Angel Dust. Closest he could remember hearing her come was Angie. Which meant, despite previous considerations, he wouldn't be changing it after all.

Once they were all in the limo and the doors were shut, Molly asked, "So, road trip? Am I getting a really extended tour, or are you just trying to get me out of the city?"

"Hey, you invited yourself along," Angel Dust reminded her. But he couldn't leave it at that. He was feeling stressed, but he knew he didn't want Molly to feel unwelcome. Ever. It took too much to finally have her back in his life.

"I'd say both, sis," Angel Dust said, "But it's all city. All of Pride, every circle. One city after another. It was tough finding an abandoned block."

The limo started up and began to roll, moving down the hill towards the gate. Which swung open for them on its own.

Molly winced a little. "So, rumors of overpopulation are not exaggerated."

Husk rumbled, "Not even slightly." He fished out a flask.

"I'm guessin' that's not coffee,'' Angel Dust said. He was the last person who would judge. He just wanted to know.

"Never said I was going cold turkey," Husk replied.

Fair. This weekend was for having fun more than anything else. But they kinda needed Husk sober for what they had planned.

"So, why Imp City?" Molly asked, curious about the trip ahead.

Angel Dust slid over to Husk and wrapped two arms around the winged feline, getting a smile and mild protest. "Husk here is part seraphim now, right? It's about time he tried seeing what he could do."

Husk rolled his eyes and smirked. "Largest open space we could find is a block that's been razed for construction. Construction has been halted due to issues with a local union, so the site is abandoned. If I screw up, I don't want to hurt innocent bystanders."

Pentagram city scrolled past the tinted windows.

"Why this weekend?" Molly asked curiously.

"It's been a while since we did something together like this," Husk said, taking another swig.

Molly's face fell. She finally realized, "Oh, I really am interrupting. This was special for you two, and I injected myself into it." She fretted. "Look, just turn around. I can come back another time."

Angel Dust wanted very much to back that plan. But instead he moved and embraced his sister. "Hey, Molls. You're here now. And I can't think of anyone I'd rather share Husk with."

"He didn't mean it like that," Husk was quick to clarify.

Molly looked between them.

Angel Dust backed to another seat. "Nope. Threesomes with my sister are right out!"

Husk gave him a stare.

Angel Dust leaned back. "Besides, I think we might need Husk when Lilith comes to visit."

Husk was mid-swig, and blasted bourbon out his nose. "Fuck you!" he gasped. "You did that on purpose! What the fuck do you mean, Lilith's coming?"

After Molly had arrived, Angel Dust had spent some time catching up with his sister. Including catching him up on how Cherri Bomb was handling her halo. And him catching her up on Valentino, Vanexa and the whole Charlie's Mom is a Horseman of the Apocalypse thing.

Angel Dust was quick to offer him a handkerchief. "Well, I don't know that for sure, but yeah. And I'm thinkin' soon."

Husk screwed the lid back on his flask and blew his nose. His ears twitched with discomfort. "What makes you think that?"

Molly made motion to comfort, but Husk waved her off, focusing on Angel Dust.

"Charliegasms."

"Come again?"

"Think about it," the demonic spider elaborated. "Charlie and Vaggie have been together for years. But you add a seraphim into the mix, and suddenly the sex is so good Charlie might literally bring the house down."

Molly nodded. "Angels are amazing sexual partners, but seraphim are on a whole different level. I know from experience."

"And Emily is the younger seraphim," Angel Dust continued. "Sera was the High Seraphim. Plus an Elder. One of the beings that literally made everything."

Husk caught on. "Sexual conquest counts."

Angel Dust crossed his lower arms while putting his upper arms behind his head. "And domming Sera would literally be the ultimate embodiment of that."

Molly looked between them, confused.

"You think Lilith was keeping sane up there through... booty calls with Sera?"

Week One, Day Five - Belphegor's Estate, late afternoon:

While Charlie and Emily took chairs next to each other, Vaggie chose to stand. She wanted to be able to move to either of them if necessary. And the only other place to sit was Sera's bed. That just felt awkward in her mind. Seeing the former High Seraphim - Adam's (and by loathsome association her own) former boss - as her sister-in-law was still taking some getting used to.

No, it was more than that. Vaggie felt on edge. It was less than a month before her official wedding to Charlie and Emily, and Sera was apparently about to drop an emotional bomb that required "Emotional Support Wives" (Emily's words, not hers) at the ready.

Sera sat down on her bed, facing Emily, and looked into her face. But it didn't take long for her to look away, unable to meet her little sister's gaze. "There are things you don't know, Emily. Because I haven't told you. Because I have intentionally kept them from you."

A parade worth of red flags were waving in Vaggie's head. Not the least of which being how practically identical that was to the way Lucifer started his confession to Charlie. By the way Charlie jolted, she had been slammed with the same association.

Emily was scowling. Vaggie could tell she was trying to give her sister the benefit of the doubt. But it was hard when her sister had abused that for who knows how long.

"I didn't have many friends in Heaven," Sera began.

Vaggie rolled her eye, getting a quick glare from Emily. But Vaggie wasn't reacting to how obvious that statement might seem. In fact, one would expect the High Seraphim to have a lot of angels who wanted to be her friend. No, Vaggie rolled her eye because she realized this was going to take a while. She now grasped where Emily learned her habit of burying the lead.

Sera continued, not seeming to notice. "There was a time, millennia ago, when I 'got out more', as you would say. I even spent time visiting Creation. But after... certain events... I retreated to my work. Shut myself off. Focused on the job I had been created for: keeping angels safe. Keeping Heaven a paradise. A good place."

That got a hard look from Emily. "Emily," Vaggie cautioned gently. "She's not hiding behind that. She hasn't for over a month. Hear what she has to say."

Emily sighed and relaxed. "Sorry, Sera. This... I just don't know what to think yet. And the longer it drags out, the worse it feels."

Sera nodded. "I am sorry for that." Still, she took time to draw a deep breath, seeming to gather her wits about her. "The only true friends I had in Heaven, not counting you Emily, were all angels who deeply understood doing what was necessary over doing what was right."

Vaggie scowled at that. Sounds like a tiny, ugly echo chamber.

"Adam," Sera began, making Vaggie feel instantly right. "A mother who had abandoned her family to protect them..."

Charlie must have caught a glance that Vaggie didn't, because her love growled. Then huffed, "You can say her name."

But Sera did not. She just continued listing her friends in Heaven. It only took one hand. Vaggie felt a sympathetic pang, reminded how there was no one in Heaven who had looked into her disappearance. Beyond other Exorcists, nobody noticed. At least, not enough to care. But it was different for Sera. Vaggie joined a group that isolated her from everyone. Sera isolated herself from everyone save for a small group.

"...The head of the Golden Library and the recorder for the Court, and the zookeeper."

It took Emily a moment to realize the list had ended. "What? Only that many? In thousands of years? Sera!"

Vaggie's scowl had eased as she felt sympathetic loneliness. Sera's list may have been longer than her own while Vaggie was in Heaven, but that was a very short list and over a much longer span of time. Still, Sera's list reinforced her thoughts. These people had names. It was a shit ton easier to say Pravuil than the head of the Golden Library and the recorder for the Court. But Sera wasn't using them. Vaggie thought of just how often Emily had corrected Sera, trying to get her to use Charlie's name. And how long it took for her to do so.

Why?

Sera nodded. "So I hope you can understand how important it is to me to see that my promises to them are kept."

Why titles instead of names? It wasn't as a show of respect. That's just the excuse the former High Seraphim had hidden behind.

Vaggie cringed as she realized: It was because names are more personal.

Emily moved forward, hugging her sister even as she scolded her for being such a recluse.

Sera doesn't want to get attached. Or, at least, didn't at one point in her existence, and this behavior is so ingrained she even described Lilith rather than say her name. A woman she had an affair with.

Wait!

Vaggie didn't know those people, but she knew of them. She knew those names...

A great chill washed over her, vicious and dark.

No way. Is that what this is really about? There was no way Emily doesn't know about that! Everybody knows that story!

Except Sera just admitted intentionally keeping things from her.

Vaggie gasped, then turned a hard glare on Sera. And this woman had the audacity to call Lucifer irresponsible for not teaching Charlie about demonic bindings? What. The. FUCK!?

Sera turned and looked back at her. Vaggie could see the haunted look in her eyes. She was on the verge of tears just talking circles around this. She wasn't simply burying the lead. She was avoiding it. They were never going to get there.

Except Vaggie had. And the world shattered.

Sera had witnessed it. The darkest chapter in Heaven's history wasn't a story to her.

It was trauma.

And Emily was trying to get a look. Emily, who had a habit of taking Heaven's sins as her own.

The pit in her stomach kept dropping deeper. The ice bath over her nerves was making her numb.

This was so much worse than looking at the record of Lute assaulting her, maiming her, and abandoning her in Hell.

It was worse than the Exterminations.

Fuck! Vaggie could almost see a fucked-up line of cognition that would make this justify the Exterminations. Good on Sera for never telling Emily about this. Vaggie herself wanted to protect Emily from this.

"O-okay. Okay. Sera's right!" Vaggie practically shouted. "Yep. No rain in Heaven. Endless sunny days are much better. Everybody loves them. Glad that's settled. Emily, please take us home."

Charlie was looking at her with confusion bordering on alarm. Emily let go of her sister, jumping back. "What? Vaggie?"

Vaggie moved up to Emily and grasped her. She couldn't keep the pleading out of her voice. "Emily, please. Let it go. Do. Not. Poke. This. Bear."

Before she even realized she was doing it, Vaggie was pushing Emily from the room. Her angelic wife was too shocked to resist.

Charlie scrambled to follow, babbling an apology to Sera that Vaggie knew wasn't needed. Vaggie was looking straight ahead, focusing on Emily. But she could feel Sera's relieved collapse from halfway down the hall.

Emily finally whirled away from her. "Vaggie!" Her voice was scolding for a moment. Rightfully so. Vaggie had just manhandled her in a way Charlie might be used to, but Emily was not.

"I can walk on my own." Emily said sternly. "I... Look, I'll never ask about it again. Okay? Just... You're scaring me."

Vaggie jolted. "I... what?" With even the briefest reflection on the last few moments, that made sense. "Sorry. This is just. Not something you want or need to traumatize yourself with."

Emily nodded, not really looking any less concerned. But she turned and opened a golden portal back to their bedroom in the Hazbin Hotel. And this time, Emily stepped through first.

Vaggie moved to follow, but felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Vaggie?" Charlie asked. "Are you okay?"

Vaggie sighed. "Yeah hon. I'm sorry I scared her." She turned to give Charlie a soft smile, but her smile faltered at the look in Charlie's eyes. "And scared you."

"Are... are you sure?" Charlie pressed.

"Yeah. I'm sure." She glanced through the portal to see Emily holding the portal open, waiting for them, her eyes shifting away. Vaggie suspected she was trying to process. And probably trying to figure out something she did wrong. Vaggie looked back to Charlie. "I'm okay Charlie. But Sera really, really isn't. And I think she needs someone to talk to who already knows."

"Knows what?" Charlie whispered, her confusion sending a spike of panic through Vaggie's heart.

How could you not know either!?

But even as she thought it, she remembered Sera scolding Lucifer about the gaps in Charlie's education. And she remembered Lucifer admitting to keeping the Keys a secret.

Of course she doesn't know. That tracks.

"Please don't make me tell you," Vaggie whispered back.

"Okay," Charlie nodded.

"Go be with Emily," Vaggie said. "I'm going to go back and talk to Sera."

Charlie nodded again. And gave her a proud if still slightly worried smile.

Vaggie hesitated. "Charlie, are you okay?"

Charlie's smile grew more confident. "Yeah. This isn't like the thing with my mom. No Pride-shattering revelations. Just... Sera was really, really, really lonely. And yes, that makes me ache. But I'm okay."

She brushed back her hair, and confessed, "A little more upset with my mom, maybe. That's three people she's broken ties with who needed her." Then added, "And I'm even more leery of the Golden Library now. Aaaaand it may be a while before I hug another koala, knowing the guy who runs the place is in the ends justified the means club. Which just makes me sad. Noah seemed nice."

Week One, Day Five - Belphegor's Estate, late afternoon:

"Sera?"

Sera opened her eyes and turned them to see Vaggie once again in the doorway. This time alone.

"How is Emily?" Sera asked.

Vaggie glanced back down the hall. "Worried. More by me than you at the moment. But that will change by tonight." The young angel looked back at Sera laying on the bed and cocked her head. "She's going to be fretting about you not having friends for a while. Expect consequences for that. But at least she's not going to be asking about the fucking Flood."

"Mind if I come in?" Vaggie asked after a moment.

Sera sighed. "Thank you for the offer, but I really don't want to talk about it."

"I think you do," Vaggie retorted. "I've seen you put up walls a lot longer than you did for this. You don't want Emily to know. I don't either. And I don't want Charlie to know. But the mere fact you started a conversation with Emily, even if you weren't going to be able to go all the way with it, suggests maybe you do need to talk."

Vaggie entered the room and closed the door behind her, locking it before claiming a chair. "And... I just realized all the people you used to be able to talk to about this aren't in your life anymore."

Sera frowned. She wanted to tell the girl to go, but she knew Vaggie was right.

"Everybody in your list... they were all around long enough to have seen it." Vaggie slowly worked through it, hesitant, worried that she might have it wrong. She didn't. "You said you used to get out more. You even spent time in Creation. Until 'events'. I'm guessing this was it. You stopped letting yourself grow attached to anyone after the Flood."

Sera felt her eyes burn, so she shut them. She felt her breath hitch, her bosom jerk, so she covered her mouth with her hand.

Vaggie continued to talk, her voice less hesitant. "Adam never talked about it. But he made an allusion to it once. Called it the First Purge. I called him on that. I was angry he would compare what we did to that. And he... he told me this absolute bullshit about the rain being an Exorcist blade."

Vaggie was silent a moment. Sera could feel the first tears escape her eyelashes and run down her cheeks and throughout her hair. She felt the spots of dampness on her dress where more of her eyes hid.

"That was bullshit, right?"

Sera whimpered her answer. "The Elders Above said it was a mercy."

She could hear the shock and pain in the young angel's voice. "The souls of those people didn't go anywhere, did they? They just... ceased."

There was a creak. Vaggie's voice was closer. She was leaning in her chair. Her tone managed not to be judgmental, but still utterly aghast. "Sera, did you ever really believe the Exterminations were merciful?"

Sera rolled onto her side, turning away from Vaggie. Her breathing was labored. "Didn't you? Those souls were trapped, suffering for eternity."

Vaggie gasped in repugnance. "No!" Sera's wings tightened, holding herself, as Vaggie blurted out, "They were barbaric. Cruel. We were making their afterlives even worse. Sera, it wasn't mercy, it was murder!"

She could hear Vaggie's voice soften. "You... you have to know that."

Sera's mouth twinged. Her insides felt frayed. She was barely holding back from sobbing. Not at what the young angel, the former Exorcist, was saying. But because of all the emotions just thinking about this were dredging up. Emotions she had worked centuries to keep buried.

"I-I... I k-know."

Sera pushed. Tried to force the shaking out of her voice. It wasn't working. She heard the former Exorcist curse blasphemously under her breath. She suspected the words had been in Spanish, but all languages sounded the same to her.

"Take it from somebody who is in therapy, Sera. You need to be able to talk to someone about this." Then the offer, "Talk to me."

Sera didn't want to. But her sister-in-law was right.

"I used to walk among them," she said slowly. "The humans of Creation. They were... terrible, actually. But that made me cherish the time in Creation more. Because the people I encountered... I knew none of them would get into Heaven. And so their short lives in Creation were the only time I would have with them."

"There was one family in particular. I insinuated myself into it. I watched their son fall in love with a girl from across the collection of mud-huts they considered a city. Watched their son and his woman become joined in ceremony. I saw the birth of their granddaughter. Watched her start to grow."

Sera was trembling. Her dress was growing wetter. "And all that time, the rot that Lucifer unleashed corrupted everything below Heaven."

Sera's voice choked. Her hands covered her mouth. "I was in Creation when the Throne, or whoever sat on it, decided there wasn't enough left worth saving to bother trying anymore. I watched Noah build the boat. And he watched me as he had to do what was necessary and close the door."

Sera broke, sobbing. "And I sat there, and held that little girl whose name I can never, ever forget... and tried to comfort her... as the rain began to fall."

Week One, Day Five - Streets of Pentagram City, late afternoon:

Lute watched the massive black outcroppings draw closer. The city sprawled towards them and then just stopped. The street ran straight towards one of those giant black teeth, then ended abruptly, like it was severed by a great knife, leaving a void between it and the unnameable black rocks which reached like jagged fingers miles into the sky.

Lute looked upwards. A great red pentagram floated above the city. And they were beneath the very rim of it. The city extended no farther than the rim, like it simply couldn't exist beyond that border. Lute's thoughts drew a parallel to Crymini's description of Cherri Bomb's disintegration.

There was a sign up ahead:

NOW LEAVING THE FIRST CIRCLE.

Velvette pulled Princess to the side of the road.

"Now what?" Lute asked.

"Now we go through," Velvette answered. She twisted the throttle, her grin broadening. "Hold on extra tight. The transition can be... turbulent."

Okay, so they weren't going to disintegrate then. Not that she had been worried. Neither Velvette nor Niffty were suicidal.

"Yes!" Niffty jumped in the sidecar excitedly.

"Okay, strapping you in," Lute said, reaching down. Velvette's sidecar didn't have a seatbelt, but the social media queen had thought to bring a bit of bungee cord.

Niffty started to protest, but Velvette got ahead of it. "If you fall out, you'll miss part of the ride. Don't want that, do you?" The little gremlin shook her head.

"How's that," Lute asked when she had Niffty leashed to the vehicle.

Niffty twirled one way, then the other before giving a thumbs up.

Lute focused, thinking of Vaggie and just how wonderfully stressed out she was about the petty shipping website. She smiled, finding it easy to demonically surge while holding such a thought in her head. She wrapped both arms around Velvette.

"Whoa! Now that's a makeover!" Velvette laughed, looking back at the demonic fallen angel. She gunned the motorcycle, pulling back onto the road and rocketing towards the massive black edifice.

"Fifinella!" Niffty screamed out.

Lute felt Velvette shrug. "Fifinella!" Velvette and Lute joined in.

The world spasmed around them, waves of distortion rippling outward as they passed through the unseen abscess between realities of the Pride Ring. The sign ahead announced:

Welcome to IMP CITY
Second Circle

Week One, Day Five - Belphegor's Estate, early evening:

Vaggie sat with Sera as the fallen High Seraphim sobbed. She had tried to hold her, but between their size difference and Sera's wings, it was clumsy and awkward rather than comforting. So she settled for holding one of her hands.

Her own mind was reeling. With empathy. With shock. With the dumbfounded realization that she was in this position with Sera.

How could she authorize the Exterminations? She was literally a victim of one?

The question felt rhetorical. She understood now. Sera's isolationism. Her weird thing with names. The lack of rain in Heaven.

As an hour went by, Vaggie grew to suspect more. She wouldn't ask. She'd already ripped the scar tissue from an old wound and made it bleed again. And Sera has said enough to grasp the broad idea, even if not the details.

Sera's job was to protect the angels of Heaven. To protect Heaven itself. From threats inside and out. To keep it paradise. To keep it safe.

No... that didn't explain the Exterminations. But she already had an explanation for them. And after what had happened in Heaven after the knowledge got out? The turmoil in Heaven? Sera's drive to keep it secret was also clear.

Sera was told it was a mercy. And after what she went through, Vaggie was certain the woman had internalized that to the point of delusion just to keep from breaking. How much easier must it have been to sign off on Adam's genocide if that had become a foundational belief?

"They sent an Elder Above after me," Sera said, finally speaking again. It had been nearly an hour and a half. "It was the only time I spoke with one. Azrael. He told me that he was sorry. He understood I was grieving. But I had a job to do. And he couldn't just let me sit in the water holding... holding a corpse. I was pushing Disobedience through Inaction. I refused."

"Azrael destroyed her body as I wailed. And told me he would give me two days. He reminded me there had been a pardon. That there were those who were allowed to survive. Sent me to talk to Noah."

Sera sat up slowly, wiping her eyes. Her voice sounded fragile. "I feared the girl's soul would not be in Heaven. I begged him to tell me she wasn't in Hell."

She looked at Vaggie with an expression of infinite sorrow. "He told me she wasn't anywhere anymore. None of them would be in Hell because the Throne was merciful."

A very painful thought crossed Vaggie's mind: How desperate would anyone be to keep the secret if they were afraid some power upstairs might wipe all of Heaven if it stopped being paradise?

Sera never said she feared that. But fuck if it didn't make sense.

"Sera? I... I need to know... were you afraid it would happen again?"

Sera let out a shuddering breath. "Of course I am," she told Vaggie. "All of us should be."

Week One, Day Five - The Roo Shit House, evening:

Crymini removed the last block of semtex from the back door and put it in her backpack. She had disabled and dismantled every trap she thought she could. The puppy teen wasn't convinced she could safely dig up the mines. And she wasn't going to risk her life trying. She had no love for the fuckers who had been using this place, and they were the most likely to return.

And if they weren't, at least none of the mines had silver.

"This whole thing was stupid," she barked at herself as she zipped the pack closed.

I froze. For the first time ever, I saved myself. And Big Sis died.

No amount of doing something was going to change that.

"Cherri Bomb isn't even dead-dead. I shouldn't be Five Staging this shit," the puppy demon growled at herself. And yet...

This was probably "bargaining".

Fuck this noise. Fuck the Doomsday District. And very specifically fuck this house.

Crymini stopped and looked around at the Roo Shit House. She had a backpack full of explosives. Why not?

Week One, Day Five - Streets of Pentagram City, evening:

"The rhythm hits us and I just gotta go."
"Stand back and watch, gonna give you a show!"

"Or you can come and hit the floor with me,"
"Let's show Heaven we're savage and free!"

Husk belted out the lyrics cheerfully along with Angel Dust and Molly. Angel's sister had never heard the song before; but this was Hell, it didn't matter.

Angel Dust and Molly traded playing air drums, rocking back and forth. The music flowing from the sheer energy of the song.

"And if the fucking world wants to end tonight,"
"We ain't gonna go without a fight!"

It was not fair. He'd had the song stuck in his head for a week after Neon Ant Farm. Now it was going to be again. Part of Husk's brain was telling him this was not a song for an angel to be singing. But Molly wasn't merely taking it in stride, but like Leviathan to water. Charlie was right. Hell was a musical.

"Clocktower's countin', we've all gotta face it.
So get a little drunk and get a little wasted!
Don't spare your body, don't save your tongue,
P-P-P-P-PARTY LIKE WE'RE GONNA DIE YOUNG!"

The partition between the passenger cabin and the front of the Morningstar limousine slid down. Razzle tapped a claw for attention, his grin happy and sharp. Then pointed out the front window.

Angel Dust and Molly both moved forward to see.

"Porca vacca!" Molly gasped as the limousine raced towards the wall of black rising around the edge of Pentagram City like rotted teeth.

"I've never actually been this close to those," Angel Dust murmured beside her, his voice tinged with awe and instinctual loathing.

Razzle sped up as the sign shot past.

"Uh... Raz? That's literally the end of the road up there."

Husk huffed, smirking. "Wait for it."

It was like slamming full-speed into nothing and having the nothing break. It felt like an hour compressed into two seconds and given a violent shake. Molly let out a small scream as they were thrown from their seats.

Suddenly, the limo was airborne. Just for a moment before the wheels came down on the new pavement.

"Holy cannoli," Molly gasped, panting.

"You did not actually just say that," Angel Dust scolded despite clearly being in agreement. "I'm revoking your Italian card."

Next stops would be a restaurant, the hotel and a bar. In that order. This was going to be fun.

Husk sat back and chuckled. "Welcome to Imp City."

Week One, Day Five - Imp City, night:

The imp scowled, freezing the image on the second monitor to his left. In the image, the limousine stopped, trapped in a moment of time. He toggled the information on another screen, comparing the make to the one on file. There were differences. But the similarities were striking.

"All right, whores," the imp said, staring back at the first. "Let's see who's inside."

The image changed, stripping away the layers of metal and materials on the limousine until he could see the driver and three passengers. The driver received his immediate focus. Goat-dragon homunculus. Looked like an early Baxter design. And that particular model was on the Call the Boss list. The imp scrambled for his phone.

"Hey, this is Edjer at Import Monitoring. I've got another one."

"I know who you are, Edjer." Arackniss' voice sounded irritated. Fuck. "This is the third time we've spoken today. What do you mean, another one?"

"From the watch list She gave us. Sir. One of the homunculi this time." Edjer pulled up the list, flipping through the profiles, looking at the images. "Dazzle, I think? I can't really tell. They look alike."

He heard Her voice somewhere on the other end, asking. And the Boss saying, "A vehicle with one of the Princess' pets came through. Looks like she sent backup."

Edjer turned back to the image of the limo. And froze. "Christ on a fucking stick!"

Arackniss' voice asked, "What?"

"They've got an angel with them."

A moment of silence on the other end. "Are you sure?"

"Wings and halo."

He heard Arackniss pause again. Then growl, "I'm coming up."

Week One, Day Five - Emily's office, Heaven, night:

It was getting very late. The skies of Heaven outside her window had grown dark, becoming a beautiful tapestry of purples and indigos sprinkled with stars, in contrast to the myriad lights of the Heavenly city below her window.

She hoped she wasn't worrying Vaggie or Charlie. But after Sloth, she needed some time. And, eventually, some conversation with someone whom Sera had considered a friend. They talked about nothing that would compromise her promise to Vaggie. Just... talked.

Emily sat in her chair. At her desk. Revising her schedule.

The bridal dress hunting would have to wait until tomorrow. Plus a personal trip to the zoo. It was heartbreaking to know Sera had so few friends. For millennia.

With all Sera allowed to happen, with all the dead leading to her doorstep, Emily wasn't sure how many friends she had in Hell. But she had people who cared about her. And Emily wasn't going to let years, much less centuries, go by without making sure Sera wasn't falling into loneliness and despair.

But her first step was to talk to the friends of Sera's whom she could. If only to thank them.

"Will there be anything else, High Seraphim Emily?" Pravuil asked.

Emily looked up. "Just... again... thank you for being there for her."

The younger seraphim looked over at the Celestial Environmental System. And sighed. "Actually, yes, Pravuil." She promised she would not pry. And that she would never make it rain in Heaven. But...

"Eventually, I am going to need to use the Celestial Environmental System. I can't be locked out."

Pravuil seemed to nod at that. It was a little hard to tell with the rings.

"Bring me the record of the last time Sera used that system. I will get the password from it, and reset it to something new." Based on Vaggie's reaction, it was worth continuing to keep sealed.

"As you wish," Pravuil said. "I shall have it for you tomorrow. Anything else?"

Emily thought. "Sera has a reason to never let it rain in Heaven. You know what that reason is, don't you?"

"Yes, High Seraphim Emily."

"And is it a good one?"

"Yes."

Vaggie's reaction, and the promise Emily made, had been more than enough to accept keeping this secret buried. That answer relieved her of any doubt that it was a good thing. "Again, thank you."

For a third time, Pravuil asked, "Will there be anything else, High Seraphim Emily?" Emily felt he must be patience incarnate. Not willing to leave until he was sure she no longer had need of him.

She had eaten enough of his evening. Although he hadn't seemed to mind it. Emily suspected he missed Sera in his way.

One other question slid across her mind. She'd already looked into it herself and found nothing. But if anyone would know, Pravuil would.

"Did any angels go missing from Heaven roughly seven and a half years ago?"

The recorder of the Court paused. "No angels went missing from Heaven during that time," Pravuil answered

Emily frowned. That meant Charlie's hunch was wrong. Which didn't sit right with her.

That answer sounded odd.

"Pravuil, is there something you are not telling me?"

"Yes."

Emily sat up, alarmed. She tempered her alarm. This was Pravuil. He wouldn't be dishonest with her. She must be asking the wrong question. Or the right one in the wrong way. She considered, then tried again.

"Pravuil, between seven and eight years ago, did any angels become unaccounted for?"

"Yes," Pravuil answered calmly.

There it was. What Charlie was looking for. "And are any of them accounted for now?"

"No."

That sent another alarm through her. Heaven should not be losing angels! "How many?"

"One," Pravuil answered.

Just one. Much less alarming. "Who?"

"Azrael."

Emily felt her golden blood go cold. Her hands rose to her mouth as she gave a squeak of horror.

Then she spread her wings, flying up from her chair. Halo blazing. Her words weren't for Pravuil; they were directed upwards.

"ONE OF THE ELDERS ABOVE IS MISSING FROM THE THRONE!?"