Chapter 7:Resurrection

The anniversary of Verosika's death was a somber day for many in Hell, but for Blitzø, Barbie Wire, and Loona, it was a day of reflection and purpose. They had spent the past year transforming their grief into power, using their pain as fuel for the fire that had made IMP one of the most feared and respected organizations in Hell.

The framed faux fur jacket, still stained with Verosika's inky blood, hung in the IMP office like a silent sentinel, a constant reminder of why they fought, why they killed, and why they would never stop. It was a symbol of the change they had wrought and the legacy they carried forward.

Blitzø had changed the most. The goofy, carefree clown who had once hidden his pain behind vulgar jokes and wild antics was gone, replaced by a sharp-dressed, cold, and calculated killer. He was still young, only 23, but he had grown into a figure that even the most powerful Overlords were starting to fear. His reputation was one of ruthlessness, and with Barbie by his side, he had become an unstoppable force.

Barbie Wire, always on the edge between sanity and madness, had embraced her role as the enforcer of IMP's justice. She relished in the violence, in the bloodshed, and in the fear she struck into the hearts of their enemies. Her fists were the hammer of justice, her knives the sword of vengeance, and she used both with lethal precision. Barbie had found her calling in the chaos, and she was damn good at it.

Loona, still only 10 years old, had blossomed into a fearsome warrior. The tiny Hellhound was a master of hand-to-hand combat, her claws and teeth weapons as deadly as any blade. Her howl, now honed to perfection, was a weapon in itself—a sonic blast that could shatter windows, deafen foes, and leave entire warehouses in ruins. She was a predator, a hunter, and she carried the ferocity of her lost mother with her in every battle.

The trio's rise to power had been meteoric, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. Overlords, crime bosses, and even other imps fell by the wayside as IMP tore through Hell's underworld. They had allies in powerful places, too. The Radio Demon, Alastor, had taken an interest in their mission, not just because of his friendship with Barbie, but because he saw in them a reflection of his own twisted sense of justice. Alastor relished the hunt, and he was more than happy to lend his considerable power to their cause.

Beelzebub, the Queen of Gluttony and ruler of the Hounds, had also thrown her weight behind IMP. Verosika had been one of her closest friends, and anyone who dared to speak ill of her memory found themselves on the receiving end of Beelzebub's wrath. She was a force of nature, a whirlwind of fury and power, and she made it clear that Verosika's death would not go unavenged.

But as powerful as IMP had become, they hadn't forgotten the reason they fought. Blitzø had continued to run the Blue-Loona Foundation in Verosika's honor, ensuring that her work with Hellhounds would continue. Day-to-day operations were handled by Tilla, the mother of Blitz and Barb she had been close to Verosika, and it was the least she could do to keep her legacy alive. But Asmodeus, ever the strategist, had something bigger in mind—something that would honor Verosika in a way no one expected.

The one-year anniversary of Verosika's death was marked by a massive event in Hell, a celebration of her life and legacy. Asmodeus had pulled out all the stops, organizing a grand gala in her honor. The venue was none other than the Lust Land theme park, transformed into a nightmarish wonderland filled with tributes to Verosika, performances by Hell's biggest stars, and, of course, plenty of booze and debauchery. It was a party only Hell could throw, and everyone who was anyone would be there.

Blitzø, Barbie, and Loona arrived at the event in style, dressed to kill—literally, in Barbie's case, as she kept a small arsenal of weapons hidden beneath her dress. The night was a whirlwind of music, dancing, and bittersweet memories, with performances by The Weird Sisters, Diamond Dog, and the Radio Demon himself. Beelzebub stole the show with a fiery tribute to Verosika, her voice ringing out across the park as she sang a haunting rendition of "It's a Blue, Blue Moon."

But the real surprise of the night came from Asmodeus. As the festivities reached their peak, he took the stage, microphone in hand, and addressed the crowd.

"Tonight, we honor a legend," Asmodeus began, his voice booming through the speakers. "Verosika Mayday was more than just a pop star—she was a fighter, a friend, and a beacon of hope for the Hellhounds of this realm. Her death was a tragedy, but her legacy lives on, stronger than ever."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over the crowd before continuing.

"I've seen firsthand the impact she had on all of us, and I wanted to do something special to ensure that her work continues. So, I'm proud to announce the opening of the Verosika Mayday Memorial Fund, a foundation dedicated to supporting Hellhounds and other marginalized demons in Hell. But that's not all."

Asmodeus smiled, a devilish glint in his eye.

"To make sure that this foundation has the power it needs to make real change, I'm backing it with all the resources of the Lust Ring—and I'm naming Blitzø, Barbie Wire, and Loona as its co-chairs. Together, we will ensure that Verosika's vision of a better Hell becomes a reality."

The crowd erupted in applause, the sound deafening as Blitzø, Barbie, and Loona were called to the stage. Blitzø was stunned, his normally sharp tongue silenced by the enormity of the moment. Barbie looked equally shocked, though a small, proud smile played at the corners of her lips. Loona, for once, looked almost shy as she took the microphone.

"Thank you," Loona said, her voice trembling slightly. "Mom… Verosika… she wanted to change Hell for the better, and we're going to do that. For her. For all of us." her tiny tail wagging.

Asmodeus beamed, clearly pleased with the reaction. "And to celebrate, how about we bring back a little something from the past?"

The lights dimmed, and a familiar melody filled the air. It was Verosika's voice, singing the first notes of "It's a Blue, Blue Moon." A holographic image of her appeared on the stage, ethereal and haunting, as if she were singing from beyond the grave. The crowd fell silent, mesmerized by the sight and sound of the fallen star.

As the song played, Blitzø felt a lump in his throat. The pain of losing Verosika was still there, sharp as ever, but as he looked out at the crowd, he realized something. She wasn't really gone. She lived on in the music, in the foundation, in the hearts of everyone she had touched. And that was a legacy worth fighting for.

As the hologram faded, replaced by a final image of the Blue Moon, Blitzø stepped forward, taking the microphone from Loona.

"For Verosika," he said, his voice steady and strong. "For her dream. For Hell."

And with that, the crowd erupted into cheers once more, the celebration carrying on long into the night. The fight was far from over, but with allies like Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Alastor by their side, Blitzø knew they could make Verosika's dream a reality. They would change Hell, one battle at a time.

The afterparty was a spectacle of Hell's finest, the crème de la crème of the underworld gathered in a dizzying whirl of colors, lights, and sounds. Lust Land had never seen anything like it—a night filled with decadence, power, and a strange sense of camaraderie that, for Hell, was almost unheard of. Blitzø stood at the edge of the festivities, sipping a glass of Hellfire whiskey. It burned on the way down, but it was a good burn, the kind that reminded him he was still alive, still fighting. He glanced at the framed faux fur jacket on the wall of the green room nearby, its dark stain glistening under the lights. It was a constant reminder of why he was here, why they were all here.

Barbie Wire was in her element, holding court with a group of lesser imps who hung on her every word. Her laughter rang out across the room, sharp and wild, and Blitzø couldn't help but feel a pang of pride. She had come into her own this past year, embracing the chaos and channeling it into something terrifyingly beautiful. Her hands rested on the hilts of her throwing knives, always ready, always prepared.

Loona was perched on a railing overlooking the party, her gaze intense as she scanned the crowd. She had grown so much in the last year—no longer the scared, angry pup she once was, but a fierce and determined warrior. She caught Blitzø's eye and gave him a small, approving nod. She was proud of him, too.

But amidst the revelry, Blitzø knew better than to underestimate him. If Asmodeus had put them in charge of the Verosika Mayday Memorial Fund, there was more at play than just a tribute to a fallen star. As the night wore on, Blitzø found himself pulled into a quiet corner by his old friend Fizzarolli. The jester imp, always a chaotic force of nature, was uncharacteristically somber."Blitz, we need to talk," Fizzarolli said, his voice low.

Blitzø raised an eyebrow. "About what, Fizz?" Fizzarolli glanced around, making sure they were alone. "About Asmodeus's plan. You know there's more to this than just honoring Verosika."

Blitzø sighed. "Yeah, I figured as much. What's the big guy up to?" Fizzarolli leaned in, his voice barely a whisper. "Ozzie's been working on something huge. Something that's going to put a smile on your face come with me and bring your sis and the kid."

Fizz taking the trio to his car, having the fizz bot chauffeur driving them to one of Ozzie's factories, swiping a key card to gain access through several doors he led them into a basement section that seemed like some sort of clinic. "This is where Ozzie puts people back together." Fizz said that with a sad tone as he looked at one of his mechanical hands. "I got someone you gotta see."

Fizz takes them to a room at the end of the hall and inputs a code the door opening, laying in a hospital bed hooked up to countless wires and odd buzzing machines was Verosika.

Verosika weakly opened her eyes smiling as she gazed at her family. "Hey guys, the bitch is back."

The dim glow of the machines filled the small clinic room with an eerie light, casting elongated shadows across the floor. Blitzø, Barbie Wire, and Loona stood frozen in the doorway, their eyes locked onto the figure lying in the bed. Verosika's voice, though weak, carried a familiar sharpness that cut through the tension like a knife.

Blitzø's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. His mind raced with memories of the day Verosika was taken from them, the fury that had driven him to turn IMP into the formidable force it had become. And now, here she was, lying in a hospital bed, alive—sort of.

Barbie Wire was the first to move, her usual bravado faltering as she took a step forward. Her voice, usually full of snark, was hushed with disbelief. "Ver… is it really you?"

Verosika shifted slightly, her movements stiff and mechanical. "In the flesh… well, mostly," she quipped, her signature smirk playing on her lips. "Ozzie's got a flair for the dramatic, doesn't he?"

Fizzarolli stood back, his arms crossed as he watched the reunion unfold. "Took a hell of a lot of work to get her here," he said, his tone lacking its usual jest. "But Ozzie couldn't let her go. Not like that. Not when he could do something about it."

Blitzø finally snapped out of his stupor, his eyes narrowing as he stepped closer to the bed. "So, what? You're some kind of… of robot now?" His voice was edged with anger, but there was an undercurrent of desperation, of hope.

Verosika let out a soft, raspy laugh. "Not exactly. I'm still me… mostly. But let's just say I've had a few upgrades." She gestured weakly to her chest, where a faint, rhythmic hum could be heard. Beneath her skin, a dull, crimson light pulsed in time with the beat of her heart—or whatever was keeping her alive.

"Ozzie replaced my heart with something… synthetic," Verosika explained, her voice growing stronger as she spoke. "It's not perfect, but it's enough to keep me going. He said it was the only way to bring me back."

Barbie Wire's fists clenched at her sides, a mix of anger and relief warring on her face. "That bastard… he didn't even tell us! He just… he just brought you back and kept it a secret?"

Fizzarolli sighed, stepping forward. "It wasn't easy, Barbie. Ozzie didn't know if it would even work. Hell, we didn't know if Verosika would still be… well, Verosika. But he couldn't stand the thought of losing her for good."

Blitzø's mind was spinning. A year of grief, of rage, of building something out of the ashes of their loss—all of it was suddenly thrown into question. Verosika was back, but she wasn't the same. Could they even trust this new version of her?

Loona, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up. Her voice was low, tinged with suspicion. "Why now? Why wait a whole year to bring her back?"

Verosika's eyes met Loona's, her gaze surprisingly soft. "It wasn't a choice, Loony. The process… it took time. My body needed to… adjust. And Ozzie wanted to make sure I'd be stable before letting anyone see me."

Blitzø felt a wave of guilt wash over him. He had spent the last year hunting down anyone he blamed for Verosika's death, turning himself into a weapon, a force of nature. And now, here she was, brought back by the very sin he had once considered an ally, but never a friend.

"Why?" Blitzø finally asked, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why did Ozzie do this? What's the catch?"

Fizzarolli exchanged a glance with Verosika before answering. "Ozzie's got his reasons. Maybe it's guilt, maybe it's something else. But one thing's for sure—he's not done. Bringing Verosika back was just the beginning."

Verosika nodded, her expression turning serious. "Ozzie's been planning something big, Blitz. Something that's going to shake Hell to its core. And he wants us—IMP—to be a part of it."

Blitzø's eyes narrowed, the remnants of his old distrust flaring up. "And what, exactly, does he want from us?"

Verosika sat up slightly, wincing as she did. "He wants allies, Blitz. He's seen what you've built, what we've all become. And he knows we're stronger together. But he also knows we're not the type to just follow orders. That's why he brought me back—to offer us a partnership, one where we call the shots just as much as he does."

Barbie Wire scoffed, crossing her arms. "And what if we say no? What if we tell him to shove his 'partnership' where the sun don't shine?"

Fizzarolli grinned, a glint of mischief returning to his eyes. "Then I guess we'll have to see how long that synthetic heart of hers keeps ticking without Ozzie's support."

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. Blitzø stared at Verosika, his emotions warring within him. He had been ready to move on, to leave the past behind and forge a new path. But now, with Verosika back in the picture, everything was up in the air.

Finally, Blitzø nodded, his jaw set with determination. "Fine. We'll hear Ozzie out. But if he thinks he can use us like puppets, he's got another thing coming."

Verosika smiled, a hint of the old fire returning to her eyes. "That's the Blitzø I remember. Let's go see what the big guy has in store for us."

As they left the clinic, Blitzø couldn't shake the feeling that they were stepping into something far bigger than they could ever have imagined. The game had changed, and with Verosika back by their side, IMP was about to become more powerful—and more dangerous—than ever before.

Ozzie's office was a blend of opulence and controlled chaos. Luxurious velvet drapes framed the towering windows that overlooked the heart of Hell's most hedonistic district. The polished obsidian desk was cluttered with stacks of documents, a testament to the countless machinations running through the Sin of Lust's mind at any given moment. The dim lighting cast long shadows, adding an air of intrigue to the already tense atmosphere.

Ozzie adjusted the tiny glasses perched on his head, his sharp, birdlike eyes flicking between the screens. On one, Verosika lounged in her bed, still recovering but clearly more vibrant than she had been in months. On the other, Blitzø, Barbie Wire, and Loona sat across from him, their expressions a mix of skepticism and simmering anger.

The incubus, who Blitzø recognized immediately as Stan, Verosika's old record producer, gave a half-hearted wave. "Hi, Blitz. Long time, no see."

"Cut the bullshit, Ozzie," Barbie snapped, her voice cutting through the tension like a whip. "We trusted you. We let you run Verosika's estate and keep her music and merchandise rights, even build that damned memorial fund, and all the while, you had her on ice? That's messed up, even for Hell."

Ozzie leaned back in his chair, unfazed by Barbie's outburst. He took off his glasses, cleaning them with a small silk cloth as he responded. "No, no, no, you've got it all wrong, Barb. I brought her back within the first week. But I couldn't just throw her back into the game without knowing if she'd even be the same Verosika. I had to run tests, make sure she was stable. You really think I was just going to let my golden goose—my top star, the torch singer who helped so many find their own pace—just die? Get outta town!"

Verosika smirked from her screen, clearly enjoying the drama. "He's not wrong, Barbie. Ozzie's got a reputation to uphold, and I wasn't exactly in top form after, well, dying."

Blitzø sighed, rubbing his temples as he leaned forward. "Enough of the grandstanding, Ozzie. Just tell us what you want."

Ozzie's eyes gleamed with a mix of mischief and something far darker as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, here's the deal. I'm not just the Sin of Lust, you know. I'm also a Goetia king, and that comes with its own set of problems. The Goetia? They're a mess. Full of backstabbers, traitors, and power-hungry maniacs. I need a strike force, a team that can do some… let's say, wet work, without raising too many eyebrows. That's where you guys come in. You've got the skills to take care of these little problems, and I've got the resources to make it worth your while."

Blitzø's eyes narrowed. "So you want us to be your personal hit squad? Taking out your competition, cleaning up your messes? What makes you think we'd even consider that?"

Ozzie chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that resonated through the room. "Because you're not just doing it for me you're doing it for yourselves. Let's not pretend like you're a bunch of saints, Blitz. You built IMP from the ground up, taking on contracts that most demons wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. You're already neck-deep in Hell's underbelly. What I'm offering is a way to level up—big time."

Blitzø leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his mind racing. He didn't like being manipulated, and he sure as Hell didn't like being told what to do. But Ozzie wasn't wrong. IMP had made a name for itself by taking on the dirtiest jobs, and the offer to work with a Goetia king wasn't something to be taken lightly. The potential rewards—and the risks—were enormous.

Barbie Wire wasn't as easily swayed. Her eyes blazed with defiance as she leaned forward, her hands gripping the edge of Ozzie's desk. "And what if we say no? What if we decide we don't want to be your personal clean-up crew?"

Ozzie didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned forward, his expression serious. "Then Verosika's resurrection might be short-lived. You see, her new 'heart' isn't a permanent fix. It requires regular maintenance, special resources that only I have access to. Without them, well… let's just say she wouldn't last long."

Verosika's smirk faltered slightly, and Blitzø felt a pang of anger twist in his gut. Ozzie was leveraging Verosika's life to force their hand, and the worst part was, it was working.

Loona, who had been silent up until now, spoke up, her voice cold and calculated. "You've got all the cards, don't you? So what's the catch? What aren't you telling us?"

Ozzie smiled, a wicked grin that didn't reach his eyes. "The catch is, you're not the only ones I've approached. There are others—powerful demons, some even more dangerous than you. This isn't just a job offer, Blitz. It's a competition. The best of the best will get the rewards, and the losers… well, let's just say they won't be in a position to complain."

Blitzø's blood ran cold. This wasn't just about doing Ozzie's dirty work. This was a death match, a high-stakes game where the winners took all, and the losers were left with nothing—if they were left at all.

Barbie's fists clenched at her sides, her jaw set with determination. "And what exactly are we competing for? What's the prize that makes all of this worth it?"

Ozzie's grin widened, and for a moment, Blitzø could see the full weight of the power the Goetia king held. "Influence, resources, immunity from certain… consequences. The kind of power that could elevate IMP to a whole new level. And, of course, Verosika's life."

The room fell silent as the weight of Ozzie's words settled over them. Blitzø could see the gears turning in Barbie's and Loona's minds, the same thoughts that plagued his own. The risks were enormous, but the potential rewards were even greater. But more than that, the thought of losing Verosika again—especially after getting her back, no matter how twisted the circumstances—was unbearable.

Finally, Blitzø made his decision. He leaned forward, his eyes locking with Ozzie's. "Fine. We'll play your game. But make no mistake—if you try to double-cross us, if you even think about screwing us over, I'll make sure you regret it."

Ozzie's grin didn't falter. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Blitz. Welcome to the big leagues. Now, let's see if you've got what it takes to survive."

As they left Ozzie's office, Blitzø's mind was already racing with plans, contingencies, and backup plans. He knew they were walking into a lion's den, but there was no turning back now. The game was on, and IMP was in it to win it—no matter the cost.