As Spawn stepped through the portal, the ethereal brightness of Heaven engulfed him. The searing golden light and pristine skies felt almost blinding after the perpetual shadows of Hell. The air was cool and carried a strange, unfamiliar purity, but Spawn didn't waver. He kept his head level and his gaze sharp, refusing to let the majesty of the place faze him.

The Exorcists surrounded him, their rigid formation almost suffocating as they guided him through the enormous golden gates that loomed like towering monoliths. Beyond the gates lay a sprawling paradise, its fields of clouds and radiant landscapes shimmering in divine light. Yet, to Spawn, it didn't feel like paradise.

As they walked deeper into Heaven, he noticed the faces of its inhabitants. Angels and human souls alike paused to stare at him. Some gasped in fear, their hands rising to cover their mouths. Others whispered in hushed tones, their words filled with uncertainty and alarm. Spawn expected no less.

Their gazes weren't just of fear—they carried judgment. Spawn could feel it, as palpable as the bindings sizzling against his wrists. They didn't see a man who had fought for justice in his world or someone who had conquered unimaginable odds. All they saw was a monster in a Hellspawn suit, something that didn't belong.

As Spawn scanned his surroundings, he couldn't help but scoff inwardly. Heaven was a gilded city. Its beauty was undeniable: the immaculate structures, the rivers of light that flowed like molten gold, the towering spires that pierced the heavens themselves. But it was sterile, devoid of the rawness of life.

Even the air felt wrong, artificial in its perfection.

The Exorcists led him through the streets, their boots clicking against the marble-like surface of the path beneath them. Spawn noted the carefully curated design of the realm, every inch of it a calculated effort to impress or overwhelm. But he wasn't impressed. Heaven might have been the promised paradise for others, but to him, it was a facade.

Finally, they arrived at a towering structure, its exterior gleaming with the light of a thousand suns. The Exorcist at the front of the group motioned for him to stop. "This is where you'll wait until your trial," she said curtly, her voice cold and devoid of empathy.

Spawn didn't reply. Instead, he cast one last glance around Heaven. The whispers and fearful murmurs persisted, but he didn't care. He had seen Heaven's truth. It wasn't freedom or salvation—it was just another cage.

As the Exorcists prepared to lead Spawn into the towering structure, the golden doors of a nearby building opened, and out stepped a young angel. She looked as though she could be no older than Charlie, though her presence carried an unmistakable weight of authority. Six radiant wings extended from her back, shimmering in the ethereal light of Heaven—a clear sign of her rank as a seraphim.

Her youthful face was filled with curiosity, her eyes scanning the scene before her. Her gaze settled on Spawn, lingering as if she were trying to piece together what she was looking at. "Who is this?" she asked, her voice carrying a mixture of authority and genuine interest.

Before Spawn could say a word, Lute stepped forward, placing herself between the seraphim and him. "You'll find out during the trial," Lute replied curtly, her tone sharp as if to deter any further questions. It was clear she didn't want Spawn's presence to be a spectacle any sooner than it already was.

But Spawn wasn't oblivious. Even in that brief exchange, he caught the name the other Exorcists used for the young angel: Emily.

Emily tilted her head slightly, her curiosity only deepening. Her eyes flicked past Lute's rigid stance, locking onto Spawn's smoldering green gaze. "He doesn't look like a usual case," she commented, more to herself than anyone else, her tone thoughtful.

Lute's demeanor stiffened further. "That's enough, Seraphim Emily," she said firmly. "This matter is above your jurisdiction. Return to your duties."

Emily hesitated for a moment, her wings fluttering lightly as she studied the scene. Her gaze never left Spawn, as if she could sense there was far more to him than what Lute wanted to reveal. Finally, with a slight nod, she stepped back but not before casting one last, lingering look at the Hellspawn.

As she walked away, Spawn couldn't help but feel the weight of her curiosity. It was rare to find an angel who wasn't immediately hostile toward him. Something about her seemed... different.

Lute's sharp voice broke the moment. "Move," she ordered, tugging at the chains binding his wrists.

Spawn didn't resist. But as he was led into the structure, his thoughts lingered on Emily. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if her curiosity might lead her to uncover truths her peers would rather keep buried.

Lute and the other Exorcists led Spawn into a grand yet cold structure, its pristine walls glowing faintly with divine light. At the heart of the building was a series of holding cells, each one reinforced with holy sigils that shimmered faintly in the air. They placed him into one of the largest cells, its golden bars humming with an unnatural energy that even Spawn could feel tugging at his power.

Once inside, Lute gestured to her team to remove the bindings from his wrists. They hesitated, clearly wary of the Hellspawn even in chains, but eventually complied. The searing chains fell to the ground with a dull thud, and Spawn rubbed his wrists briefly before stepping deeper into the cell, surveying his new surroundings.

Lute crossed her arms and leaned casually against one of the bars, a smug expression on her face. "Not so threatening now, are you?" she sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "I've heard all the stories, Spawn. But it turns out, you're just another sinner in a cage."

Spawn didn't immediately respond. Instead, he moved to the center of the cell and sat down on the ground, his tattered cape pooling around him like shadowy smoke. He glanced up at her, his glowing green eyes meeting hers with a calm, measured intensity.

"I hope your court system is better than your fighters," he said coolly. "Because you and your little squad weren't much of a challenge." His voice was steady, devoid of anger, but the cutting edge of his words was undeniable.

Lute's confident smirk faltered for just a moment, her wings twitching in irritation. "You'll regret those words when the judgment is passed," she shot back, though there was a trace of uncertainty in her voice.

Spawn said nothing more. He leaned back slightly, resting his arms on his knees, and let the silence speak for itself.

Frustrated, Lute turned sharply on her heel, signaling for the other Exorcists to follow her out. The divine light of the sigils glowed brighter as the door to his cell slammed shut, locking him in.

As their footsteps echoed down the corridor and faded away, Spawn allowed himself a moment of stillness. His eyes scanned the cell, taking in every detail, every sigil, every faint shimmer of divine energy. He didn't regret his choice, but he wasn't naïve either. Whatever Heaven had planned, he knew he needed to stay sharp.

For now, though, he would wait.

As Spawn sat in the eerie stillness of the divine prison, he let his thoughts drift to what was to come. The glowing bars around him pulsed faintly, their rhythm almost mocking. He leaned his head back and let out a slow exhale.

But then, a faint rustling broke the silence, coming from under his cape. At first, Spawn dismissed it, assuming it was just the residual energy of his necroplasm reacting to the sigils. But the rustling persisted, followed by a faint muttering that was unmistakably... familiar.

With a sigh that carried equal parts exasperation and resignation, Spawn reached into the void of his cape and pulled out none other than Frank the Egg Boi.

Frank, as usual, looked completely unbothered by the situation. In one hand, he clutched what appeared to be a throwing knife shaped like a bat, and in the other, a ratty old shoelace. His tiny face lit up with a sheepish grin. "Uh... hey, boss. Fancy seeing you here," he said, trying to play it cool.

Spawn raised an eyebrow, his glowing green eyes narrowing slightly. "Frank," he said, his tone carrying just a hint of a growl. "What are you doing under my cape again?"

Frank fidgeted nervously, twisting the shoelace between his fingers. "Well, uh, you know, boss... I just kinda... wandered in there. Again." He glanced up at Spawn, his small eyes wide with faux innocence. "Didn't mean to, I swear. I just, uh, got curious! And, uh, maybe got a little lost."

Spawn sighed, shaking his head. "This is the fourth time, Frank."

Frank flinched, clearly expecting a reprimand. "I know, I know! You're probably mad, and I totally get it, but—"

Before he could finish, Spawn cut him off. "Actually, I never thought I'd say this," he muttered, his tone softening just slightly, "but I'm glad you're here."

Frank blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. "Wait, really? You're not gonna throw me out into... whatever this place is?"

Spawn gave him a pointed look. "Not yet, anyway," he replied dryly. "But don't push it."

Frank visibly relaxed, a grin spreading across his face. "Aw, thanks, boss! You won't regret it, I promise!"

Spawn leaned back again, his gaze returning to the glowing bars of his cell. "We'll see about that," he muttered.

Frank looked around the glowing, ethereal cell with wide-eyed curiosity. "So, uh, where are we, boss? This doesn't look like your usual hangout."

Spawn crossed his arms, his tone flat. "We're in Heaven. This is some kind of holding cell."

Frank's face lit up with curiosity. "Heaven? No kidding! Fancy place." He wandered over to the glowing bars, inspecting them closely. "Wow, look at this craftsmanship. Solid build, good symmetry. They really don't want anyone getting out of here, huh?"

Spawn leaned back, letting the Egg Boi ramble, but as Frank continued, something caught Spawn's eye. Frank, oblivious to his actions, had stepped straight through the gap of the glowing bars.

"Yeah, no one's busting out of this bad boy," Frank continued, tapping one of the bars with the shoelace in his hand. "You'd have to be some kind of super genius or—"

"Frank," Spawn interrupted, his voice firm but calm.

Frank ignored him, still admiring the cell. "No cracks, no weak points. I mean, this is top-tier imprisonment design. Props to whoever built it!"

"Frank," Spawn said again, louder this time, but Frank was in his own world.

"Probably took some divine engineering, you know? I'd give it, like, a nine outta ten—"

"Frank!" Spawn's voice boomed, cutting through the Egg Boi's musings.

Frank flinched and turned around. "What? I'm trying to appreciate the art, boss."

Spawn pointed at him, his glowing green eyes narrowing. "You're outside the cell."

Frank blinked, then looked down at himself. He glanced back at the glowing bars he had so effortlessly passed through and then back at Spawn. "Oh... huh. Would you look at that."

Spawn sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Since you're already out, I've got a job for you."

Frank perked up, puffing out his tiny chest. "A job? For me? Name it, boss!"

"I need you to go out there," Spawn said, gesturing beyond the cell, "and gather as much information as you can. Find out what's going on, who's in charge, and anything else that might help." He leveled Frank with a serious look. "But don't get caught. Understand?"

Frank saluted dramatically, nearly dropping the shoelace in the process. "You got it, boss! Info gathering, no getting caught. Piece of cake!"

Spawn watched as Frank waddled off, slipping through the bars with ease. He couldn't help but shake his head. "I swear, if he gets himself killed up there, I'm not bailing him out."

Frank, already out of earshot, mumbled to himself. "Time to show Heaven what an Egg Boi can do."

Blitzo stood on a rickety stool, hammer in hand, nailing a plank over the last exposed window of the apartment. His face was set in a grim scowl as he muttered to himself, "Damn clock goes off, everyone loses their minds. But me? No way. Not taking any chances!"

Loona sat on the couch, idly scrolling through her phone, her tail flicking lazily. "You're seriously wasting your time. You really think some planks are gonna stop an Exorcist?"

Blitzo shot her a glare over his shoulder. "Loony, this ain't just for us. It's for you, too. You wanna end up like one of those poor schmucks who got 'cleansed'? No thanks!"

Loona shrugged, unconvinced, as Blitzo hammered in the final nail. But as he stepped down from the stool, the apartment went eerily quiet. The glow from the extermination clock, which had been casting an ominous light into the room, flickered and vanished.

Blitzo froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing. "Wait… what the hell just happened?"

Loona frowned, lowering her phone. "The light's gone. Did the clock just… stop?"

Blitzo grabbed a crowbar, prying one of the planks off the window to peek outside. Sure enough, the massive, ominous countdown clock that had appeared in the sky was gone. "No way." he muttered.

Loona leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. "So… does this mean it's canceled? Or did we just get pranked by heaven?"

Before Blitzo could respond, the door to the apartment burst open. Millie and Moxxie stormed in, looking panicked. Millie clutched a wrench in one hand while Moxxie held a clipboard, his eyes darting nervously.

"Blitzo!" Moxxie exclaimed. "Did you see it? The clock! It's gone!"

"No shit, Sherlock," Blitzo snapped, motioning to the open window. "You think this means the Extermination Day's off, or what?"

Millie shook her head, her grip tightening on her wrench. "I don't think so. It's not just gone—it was everywhere! Every ring had that clock in the sky. That's never happened before!"

Blitzo blinked, stepping back from the window. "Wait, every ring? You mean it wasn't just in Pentagram City and here?"

Moxxie nodded grimly. "Exactly. Hellborn are freaking out everywhere. This has never happened before. It's always been confined to the city, but now? Nobody feels safe."

Blitzo frowned, his usual snark absent as unease crept into his voice. "So what does it mean? Are they gonna purge all of hell this time?"

Loona, finally standing, rolled her eyes. "You guys are seriously overthinking this. Maybe Spawn did something. He's been shaking things up, hasn't he?"

Moxxie looked uncertain. "If Spawn did something, it's big. And we need to figure out what before the Exorcists come down on everyone."

Millie nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Charlie's probably the best one to ask. If anyone knows what's going on, it's her."

Blitzo tossed the crowbar aside, grabbing his jacket. "Alright, pack it up, team. We're heading to the hotel. If Spawn or Charlie's got answers, I want 'em before it's too late."

Loona groaned as she followed reluctantly. "Great. More of your hotel obsession."

Blitzo smirked, already halfway out the door. "Shut it, Loony. If the whole of hell's on the chopping block, I'm not sitting around waiting to find out the hard way!"

In the heart of the Lust Ring, Asmodeus lounged in his opulent club, one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his massive throne-like chair. Fizzarolli paced nearby, his long limbs swinging dramatically with each step, his face twisted in a mixture of irritation and anxiety.

"What the hell are we supposed to do, Ozzy?" Fizzarolli snapped, his usual cocky tone edged with worry. "That damn extermination clock is freaking everyone out, and it's not just in Pentagram City. My shows are getting canceled, customers are bailing—this is killing business!"

Asmodeus stroked his chin, his usual charming grin absent. His vibrant feathers drooped slightly, a sure sign that even he was unsettled. "Calm down, Fizz. Panicking won't fix anything. 'Sides, we've dealt with this kinda mess before. Well… not exactly this." He frowned, his golden eyes narrowing as he stared at the glowing countdown in the sky through the club's massive windows.

Fizzarolli stopped pacing, pointing dramatically at the clock. "Yeah, but it's everywhere now, Ozzy! Not just the Pride Ring. Every single ring! You know what that means, don't you? They're coming for all of us this time!"

Asmodeus sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "Fizz, babe, I know what it means. But what am I supposed to do? Snap my fingers and make heaven call it off?"

Before Fizzarolli could respond, the glowing clock in the sky flickered. The two froze, staring as the countdown shimmered and then, just as suddenly, disappeared completely.

"What the…" Fizzarolli muttered, lowering his outstretched hand. "Where the hell'd it go?"

Asmodeus stood, his towering form casting a shadow over the room. He moved to the window, his eyes scanning the now-clear sky. "It's gone."

Fizzarolli tilted his head, his bells jingling faintly. "Gone? Like, gone-gone? No more ticking doom?"

"Looks that way," Asmodeus murmured, though his tone was more contemplative than relieved. He turned to Fizzarolli, his feathers puffing up slightly. "This doesn't sit right with me. Heaven doesn't just pull back like that. Not unless something—or someone—made them."

Fizzarolli blinked, realization dawning. "You think Spawn's got something to do with this?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Asmodeus said, leaning against the window frame. "Spawn's been at the center of every major shake-up since he got here. If anyone could pull something like this off, it's him."

Fizzarolli crossed his arms, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "So what do we do? Just sit here and hope they don't drop back in with some new bull?"

Asmodeus smirked faintly, his charm returning just a bit. "No, babe. We wait, we watch, and we keep our ears to the ground. If Spawn's involved, we'll find out soon enough. For now, though…" He spread his arms, his feathers fanning out dramatically. "The show must go on!"

Fizzarolli groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "Yeah, yeah, keep calm and all that jazz. But if this clock crap comes back, I'm blaming you."

Asmodeus laughed, his deep voice echoing through the club. "Blame away, Fizz. Just make sure you do it with style."

Verosika paced near her portal, her perfectly manicured nails tapping against her hip. Her crew stood around, waiting for her final signal to escape to Earth. The extermination clock's projection had thrown everyone into a panic, and the chaos in Hell had everyone scrambling for safety.

"Alright, everyone," Verosika announced, her voice commanding as always. "We've got the gear, we've got the portal ready, and we've got a whole planet of idiots waiting to adore us. Let's move—"

She froze mid-sentence as the glow of the clock, visible even through the Lust Ring's smog, suddenly flickered and vanished.

"What the—" Verosika blinked, looking out the window in confusion. Her crew followed her gaze, murmurs of surprise rippling through them.

"Is it… over?" Vortex asked, his deep voice cautious.

"Does this mean we're safe?" Apple added, wringing her hands nervously.

Verosika didn't answer immediately, her sharp eyes narrowing in thought. "No," she finally said, her tone low. "That doesn't make sense. Heaven doesn't just back off. Not unless something—or someone—made them."

Kiki, who had been half-distracted fixing her makeup in a compact mirror, perked up at this. "Oh! You mean like Spawn?"

Verosika crossed her arms, her mind racing. "It has to be. He's been at the center of everything since he showed up here. If anyone could've stopped that clock, it's him."

"But if he did…" Vortex began, his expression darkening.

"…Then Heaven's not going to take it lying down," Verosika finished grimly. She turned to her crew, her usual air of confidence tinged with genuine concern. "If they backed off because of him, then there's a good chance he's in serious trouble right now."

"No one's hurting my man!" Kiki declared, snapping her compact shut and brandishing it like a weapon. "I'll rip them to shreds if they even look at him funny!"

Vortex groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Kiki, you don't even know Spawn like that. You've barely talked to him."

"That's just because he's playing hard to get!" Kiki shot back, flipping her hair dramatically.

Verosika rolled her eyes, but her expression quickly grew serious again. "We're not doing anything rash," she said firmly. "If Spawn's involved, it's out of our hands for now. But…" She hesitated, something uncharacteristic for her. "If there's even a chance he's in trouble, I'm not sitting back and doing nothing."

"So, what's the plan?" Apple asked, stepping forward.

Verosika smirked faintly, though it didn't fully reach her eyes. "We wait. If something happens, we'll know. And if Heaven thinks they can mess with one of my friends, they've got another thing coming."

Her crew nodded in agreement, though Kiki muttered under her breath, "They're lucky if I don't take them out myself."

As the group settled back, Verosika stared out the window at the now-empty sky. "Hang in there, Spawn," she murmured to herself. "You've gotten through worse. Just don't you dare die before I get to thank you properly."

The sound of screeching tires and the rumble of a powerful engine announced IMP's arrival at the Hazbin Hotel. Blitzo pulled up in the sleek, polished 1967 Inferno Charger, coming to a halt with dramatic flair that had Millie rolling her eyes and Moxxie muttering about the wear on the tires.

Loona, in the passenger seat, casually flipped through her phone, unfazed by the theatrics. "Nice parking, Dad. Real subtle."

Blitzo ignored her, stepping out and immediately inspecting the car for any scratches or dirt. "Alright, gang! Let's move it, but carefully! No bumping into my baby, no leaning on her, no breathing on her wrong!"

Moxxie adjusted his tie, muttering, "It's just a car, Blitzo."

Blitzo's head whipped around, his eyes wide with mock outrage. "Just a car?! Mox, I know you've said some offensive things in your life, but that might be the worst one yet."

Millie patted Moxxie's shoulder with a grin. "C'mon, hon. Let's just get inside before he starts naming the thing."

The group filed into the hotel lobby, where the usual bustling energy was noticeably subdued. Blitzo's boisterous voice cut through the tension as he stomped up to the front desk.

"Alright! Somebody start talking! What's going on here, and why's the whole place looking like someone died twice?"

His demand was loud enough to draw attention, and Vaggie approached with a sharp look. "Would you mind keeping your voice down for five minutes?"

Before Blitzo could retort, his eyes caught sight of Lucifer standing near the staircase. The usual smug confidence drained from his face in an instant, replaced by a nervous grin.

"Oh, uh, hey there, Mr. King of Hell, sir," Blitzo said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "Didn't know you were, uh, here. I wasn't, uh, shouting or anything. Just... projecting my concern!"

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed but otherwise indifferent. "It's Lord Lucifer, imp," he said, his voice calm but carrying an air of authority. "And I suggest you show some restraint while you're in my daughter's establishment."

Blitzo saluted quickly. "Yes, sir! Restraint, got it! Totally respectful here!"

Loona facepalmed from behind him while Moxxie quietly muttered, "Spineless."

Millie gave her husband a nudge, whispering, "Now's not the time, sweetie."

Charlie stepped forward, her usual smile forced but warm. "Blitzo, Loona, Millie, Moxxie—thanks for coming. I know things seem tense, and I appreciate your patience."

Blitzo leaned closer to her, his usual loudness creeping back into his voice. "What's going on, Princess? We've got Extermination countdowns showing up in places they've never been before, and then they suddenly disappear? That's not exactly normal, y'know!"

Charlie nodded, her expression serious. "It's... complicated. But let's just say that we've avoided a major crisis—for now. There's a lot happening, and I'll explain everything soon. For now, please, just try to stay calm."

Blitzo opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it when Lucifer's gaze flicked back toward him. He gave a sheepish nod and took a step back, muttering, "Staying calm, yep. Totally calm."

Spawn sat quietly in his cell, leaning back against the wall, his cape pooling around him like a shadow. His sharp eyes scanned the faces of the few angels who passed by, their expressions ranging from cautious curiosity to outright disdain. Though he still regarded Heaven as a gilded city, something about the serene atmosphere gnawed at him. Unlike the corrupt Heaven he knew in his own world, this one seemed genuinely peaceful—or at least, the illusion of peace was better maintained.

Just as he was lost in thought, the door to the building swung open. Frank the Egg Boi waddled in, holding what appeared to be a half-eaten, clearly ancient corn dog. The faint, sour smell wafted into the room.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Spawn asked, staring at the corn dog with a mix of disbelief and disgust.

"Trash can," Frank replied casually, taking another bite without hesitation. "Y'know, one angel's garbage is another egg boi's treasure."

Spawn groaned, waving a hand dismissively. "Forget it. Did you find anything useful?"

Frank's face lit up. "Oh, yeah! Tons! Angels don't really guard their secrets too well, y'know. They talk a lot."

Spawn folded his arms, waiting for Frank to elaborate.

"So, I heard a bunch of 'em talking about your upcoming trial," Frank said, between bites. "They were saying stuff like, 'Hope this one goes better than the last time,' and something about Miss Charlie."

That caught Spawn's attention immediately. "Charlie? What about her?"

Frank tilted his head, trying to recall the details. "Oh, well, she came up here a while back to try and convince Heaven to help with her redemption project. Wanted them to stop the Exorcisms or something. But Heaven wasn't havin' it."

Spawn's brow furrowed. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Wait, it gets better," Frank said, his voice dropping conspiratorially. "Turns out, not all of Heaven knew about the Exorcisms. Adam spilled the beans or something. He ended up telling a lot of people that didn't know, I guess."

Spawn's eyes narrowed, his mind racing. "He exposed the Exorcisms to the rest of Heaven?"

Frank nodded enthusiastically. "Yup! And, uh, let's just say that didn't go over too well with some of the higher-ups. Kinda split opinions, from what I heard."

Spawn leaned forward, his fingers steepled as he processed this new information. The idea that Heaven wasn't entirely unified intrigued him. It suggested cracks in the façade, weaknesses that could potentially be exploited.

"That's... interesting," Spawn muttered, half to himself. "Very interesting."

Frank beamed, clearly proud of himself. "See? Told ya I'd be useful!"

Spawn gave him a rare, approving nod. "You did good, Frank. Now, go find out more. And stay out of the trash this time."

Frank saluted dramatically, the corn dog still clutched in his other hand. "Aye aye, boss!"

As Frank waddled out, Spawn leaned back against the wall, his mind churning with possibilities. Charlie's efforts, Adam's revelations, and Heaven's apparent internal discord—it all painted a very different picture than the one he'd expected.

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