Hazbin Hotel:Paradise Found
prologue:The Ten Pillars
Adam was dead, the first man, the leader of the exorcist Corps one of the ten holy divisions of Heavwn that kept it balanced. Nothing like this had happened in 10,000 year so for the first time in decades all Ten Pillars had gathered, the 7 Heavenly Virtues and the 3 High Seraphs.
The atmosphere in the heavenly council chamber was tense, the golden light filtering through the high arched windows casting elongated shadows over the long marble table. Lute stood with her fists clenched at her sides, her wings bristling in barely contained fury.
"This is an outrage," she spat, her scarlet eyes burning with righteous fury. "Adam, the First Man, has been slain by demons, and we sit here debating? This demands retribution! Justice! We must march on Hell now—wipe them out before they grow even bolder."
Gabriel exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Lute, for the love of God—inside voice." He took a long sip from his ever-present coffee cup before giving her an exasperated look. "You screaming about it won't bring Adam back."
Lute turned her glare on him. "You, of all people, should understand the gravity of this. He was your brother-in-arms, God's first mortal son!"
Michael, who had been silent until now, finally raised his hand for quiet. His voice, calm yet heavy with the weight of responsibility, filled the chamber.
"We will act," he said, his deep blue eyes locking onto Lute's. "But we will not rush into war without careful consideration."
Lute let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "Careful consideration? Measured response? Do you not understand what just happened? The demons have declared war on Heaven, and you want to deliberate?" She scoffed. "They will see this as nothing but weakness."
Zadkiel, who had been listening with her usual gentle serenity, smiled softly. "Or perhaps this is an opportunity," she suggested. "A chance to reach out, to bridge the divide rather than deepen it."
Lute turned on her with a glare. "You think Charlie Morningstar is going to negotiate? You think we can just waltz into Hell and have a polite discussion over tea and biscuits after we've burned her hotel down?" Her voice was thick with disdain. "That kind of thinking is exactly why we've let Hell fester for millennia."
Uriel, who had been calmly writing in his tome throughout the argument, finally spoke without looking up. "A war of this magnitude would disrupt the balance of existence itself. Our duty is to preserve order, not to destroy it."
Lute threw up her hands. "This is unbelievable. We're supposed to be Heaven's warriors, not librarians."
Jophiel sighed, running a hand through her perfectly coiffed auburn hair. "And, let's be honest, war is messy," she said with a shudder. "Blood, screaming, all that destruction? Horrid."
"Jophiel speaks truth, war is not our way that is why you will not be taking up Adam's post among the Ten, ypu are far too reckless." Michael remarks with his stern, piercing eyes, his gloved fingers tenting over his pale face, his messy side swept gold hair shimmering lile a crown
Lute could feel her patience slipping through her fingers. She turned back to Michael, her voice sharp and accusing. "Then who?" she demanded. "If I am too 'reckless' for your tastes, who will lead Heaven's response?"
Michael met her gaze evenly. "Abel."
For a long moment, the room was silent.
Lute stared. She had misheard. She had to have misheard.
"…Excuse me?" she finally managed, her voice low, dangerously so.
The doors to the chamber swung open with an echoing thud, and in walked Abel, munching on a piece of bread. His golden eyes flicked between the assembled angels as he chewed, then swallowed.
"Heyyyyy," he greeted with a lazy grin, wiping a crumb off his uniform. "What's up?"
Lute felt something inside her snap.
"This—" she gestured wildly at Abel, "this soft-bellied, sheep-loving, absolute—" she made a strangled noise, trying and failing to find a word strong enough to convey her disgust. "You're putting him in charge?"
Abel, still chewing, blinked at her. "Wow. Rude." He pointed a finger gun at her. "I got layers, y'know toots?"
Gabriel groaned. "Unfortunately, yes. You do."
Abel grinned, throwing an arm over Gabriel's shoulder, despite the other angel's clear reluctance. "C'mon, guys, don't be like that. Look, I know I might not be your first pick, but I'm responsible!" He gestured toward Michael. "Big guy wouldn't put me in charge if he didn't think I could handle it." He paused. "Right?"
Michael nodded once. "Abel represents Heaven's principles of mercy and wisdom. He will lead the Exorcist Army with restraint and strategic thinking, not blind rage."
Abel shot up two thumbs-up. "See? Restraint. Totally got a plan. Step one: don't die. Step two: probably something important. Step three: profit."
Lute was going to explode.
"We are all doomed," she muttered, barely restraining herself from throwing something.
She turned sharply on her heel, wings flaring as she stormed toward the door. "Fine," she growled. "If Heaven won't serve justice… I will."
As the doors slammed shut behind her, none of the remaining angels noticed the shadow lingering just outside the chamber.
Lilith watched from the darkness, a slow smile curling her lips.
Perfect.
Lute stormed through the vast, gilded halls of Heaven, her steps heavy with barely contained fury. The light filtering through the high windows felt stifling, the very walls of the celestial kingdom pressing in on her as if to mock her frustration.
Abel.
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
That weak, pathetic, bumbling fool had been chosen over her.
Lute had bled for Heaven. She had trained, fought, sacrificed. She had earned her place, her right to lead. And yet, when justice needed to be delivered, they chose the lazy, sheep-coddling, soft-bellied Abel.
"This is unacceptable," she hissed under her breath.
She was so caught up in her anger that she didn't notice the presence waiting for her at the end of the hall—until a smooth, knowing voice cut through the silence.
"You look upset, darling."
Lute froze.
A chill ran down her spine as she turned, her gaze locking onto the figure leaning lazily against one of Heaven's pearlescent columns. The air around her was wrong, too still, too quiet.
Lilith.
The First Woman. The First Rebel. The Queen of Hell.
She stood there, draped in black and crimson, her long, dark honey hair cascading down her back like a river of golden wheat. Her smirk was sharp, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement.
Lute's muscles tensed, every instinct screaming at her to strike, to cut this filth down where she stood.
"What are you doing here, demon?" Lute snarled, her wings flaring.
Lilith sighed, shaking her head. "Such hostility. Is that any way to greet an old friend? especially after you ruined ny vacation!"
Lute's glare darkened. "We are not friends, i tapped you so you could go back to hell and get those heathens under control."
Lilith chuckled, her voice rich like poisoned honey. "Oh, but we could be friends." She took a slow step forward, her movements deliberate, calculated. "You and I, Lute—we both know Heaven has lost its spine. We both know justice has been abandoned."
Lute's jaw tightened. She refused to acknowledge the truth in those words.
Lilith tilted her head, watching her with quiet amusement. "They cast you aside, didn't they? Rejected your righteous fury. Put a shepherd boy in charge instead of a warrior."
She took another step, her eyes gleaming. "Tell me, Lute—how does that make you feel?"
Lute knew what she was doing. She knew this was manipulation. She should have walked away.
And yet.
Her fists trembled at her sides. Her wings twitched.
How did it make her feel?
Like she was nothing.
Like all her strength, all her purpose, had been reduced to irrelevance.
Lilith watched her carefully, her smirk widening as she saw the hesitation in Lute's silence.
"You deserve more than this, Adam couldnt see it and neither can the pillars" Lilith said softly, her voice nearly a whisper. "You deserve a throne, not a leash."
Lute's breath came sharp, her heart pounding.
This was treason. This was wrong.
And yet.
When she spoke, her voice was quieter, more dangerous.
"…What do you want?"
Lilith's smile was slow, victorious.
"Oh, my dear," she purred. "I simply want to help you."
Lute didn't move. Didn't breathe.
She knew she should strike Lilith down where she stood for speaking this way. A demon had no place in Heaven, no right to whisper treason within its sacred halls, whatever deal Adam had made woth her wad clearly in error.
But.
Lilith was right.
Michael, Zadkiel, Uriel—all of them had abandoned the true path. They had grown complacent, cowardly. They spoke of balance, of patience, as if Hell itself were not an insult to divine justice. And Abel—Abel—was a joke. A warm-bodied seat-filler who would waste time with half-measures and diplomacy while demons grew bolder by the day.
Lute's pride burned at the very thought.
And Lilith knew.
She was watching Lute with something dangerous in her golden eyes, something that slithered beneath her words like a blade wrapped in silk.
"You deserve a throne, not a leash," Lilith had said.
Lute finally moved, her fingers twitching at her sides. Her breath came slow, measured, as she met the demon queen's gaze head-on.
"…What do you want?"
Lilith's smirk widened, victorious.
"Oh, my dear," she murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "I simply want to help you, I cpuld gave gone back to hell like you asked, but i thought up a new plan, a better plan."
Lute scoffed, crossing her arms. "Help me? Forgive me if I don't believe Hell's first traitor is here out of charity."
Lilith chuckled, a low, knowing sound. "Sharp as ever," she mused. "But you wound me, dear. I'm not here as an enemy." She took a slow step forward, her heeled boots clicking against the celestial stone. "I'm here as a kindred spirit."
Lute stiffened, her fingers itching to reach for her blade.
Lilith sighed, tilting her head. "You don't see it yet, do you?" she murmured. "Heaven doesn't reward loyalty. It fears it." She gestured vaguely to the halls around them. "Why do you think they chose Abel over you?"
Lute ground her teeth. "Because they're fools."
Lilith's smirk was knife-sharp. "Because they're afraid of what you could become, just like they feared me."
The words hit Lute like a blade to the gut.
Afraid? Of her?
Lilith's voice was smooth, velvety, weaving its way into the cracks of Lute's frustration. "They fear your power. Your conviction. Michael saw it in Lucifer before he fell, and now he sees it in you."
Lute clenched her fists. "I am nothing like Lucifer."
Lilith's smile was infuriatingly soft, as if she were indulging a naïve child. "Aren't you?" she asked simply.
Lute's wings bristled. "I fight for justice. For order. My loyalty is to Heaven."
Lilith raised a brow. "And yet, Heaven has turned its back on you."
The words sent something sharp through Lute's chest, something she couldn't quite name.
For a moment, she had no response.
Lilith sighed, as if she pitied her. "You want to serve Heaven, but they will never let you." She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Not in the way you should."
Lute's throat felt dry.
Lilith took another step, close enough now that Lute could see the flicker of amusement in her golden eyes.
"But I will."
Lute's breath hitched.
Lilith smiled. "You deserve to lead, Lute. You deserve a legion that will fight for you, not against you. I can give you that."
Lute should have drawn her blade. She should have struck this wretched demon down where she stood for daring to speak such things, she had asked Lilith to reign Charlue in not plor a coup.
But she didn't.
She stood frozen, the weight of Lilith's words pressing down on her like a hand at her throat.
"You want justice," Lilith whispered, voice curling around her like smoke. "I can give it to you."
Lute inhaled sharply.
This was wrong.
And yet.
For the first time since the council's decision, since Michael humiliated her, since she had been cast aside like a weapon too sharp to wield—
She felt seen.
Lilith's hand hovered just beside Lute's arm, not touching, but close enough to let the temptation settle.
"This is your choice," Lilith said softly. "Walk away, if you wish. Accept your place under the fools who would rather chain you than let you shine."
Lute's heart pounded.
Lilith smiled, golden eyes gleaming.
"Or," she murmured, "take my hand."
Lute didn't breathe.
She stared.
And slowly, her fingers twitched.
The choice was hers.
Lute hesitated for only a fraction of a second before she reached out and clasped Lilith's hand.
The demon queen's grip was cold, yet firm—a touch that carried the weight of a thousand betrayals and a thousand more victories.
"You made the right choice," Lilith murmured, her voice like the whisper of a blade sliding from its sheath. Her golden eyes gleamed with something knowing, something hungry. "Just like I did, when you found me on that beach."
Lute's eyes narrowed, her mind flashing back to that day—the salt in the air, the roar of the tides, and the cold realization that the war she had spent her existence preparing for would never come. Not with Heaven's cowardice shackling her.
Lilith smirked, squeezing Lute's hand before letting go. She took a step back, stretching her non-mechanical arm as if testing its movement. "Truth be told, I've grown rather… disenchanted with Hell." She tilted her head, a slow, mocking smile curling her lips. "I've found it so very tiresome. including my husband Lucifer, with all his grand speeches about freedom, still clinging to his self-righteous defiance like a scorned child. The endless cycle of sinners, clawing their way to the top only to burn out like dying stars."
Her voice dropped into something more venomous. "And don't even get me started on my daughter."
Lute's brow twitched upward. Husband.
She had never understood Lucifer and Lilith's union. It was something that had always existed—ancient, fractured, yet unbroken. For centuries, they had ruled Hell as its de facto monarchs, even if Lucifer rarely bothered with the day-to-day chaos of his kingdom.
But now…
Lilith's expression darkened, her gold eyes flickering with something unreadable.
"That's why I made the deal with Adam," she continued, brushing a strand of ink-dark hair from her face. "To get into Heaven. To escape Hell, escape him. But Adam was a fool, and his arrogance led to his destruction."
She turned back to Lute, her smirk returning.
"But you, my dear, are not a fool. You have purpose. Vision." Her smirk widened into something razor-sharp. "And I know exactly where to get you your army."
Lute crossed her arms, eyes narrowing. "Where?"
Lilith's grin was full of wicked promise.
"Purgatory."
Lute's breath stilled for half a second.
Purgatory. The gray realm, the land between judgment and damnation.
Neither Heaven nor Hell claimed dominion over it, though both had attempted to wield it over the millennia. It was a place of lost souls, warriors who had fought for causes both just and wicked, now trapped in limbo.
An untapped force, neither damned nor saved.
Lute's fingers twitched.
She had never considered Purgatory.
But now…
Her lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile.
Lilith had given her exactly what she needed.
to be continued...