Chapter Ten

Fear No Evil

(Day 37 - Part Two)

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel elevator nook, late afternoon:

Crymini and Octavia were waiting for the elevator when Husk approached.

"Hey, Crim. Going to introduce us to your new friend?" Husk asked.

And this is the sound of music singing: hey, face me! Crymini thought, cringing a little inside. But she smiled like it was nothing. "Hey, gramps. This is Octavia. She's cool."

Turning to Octavia, "This is Husk. Bartender, Dealmaker, kinda part super powerful angel, and wise old man who takes care of us damn kids. We call him gramps."

"Hello gramps," Octavia said, chuckling just a little at that.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, Octavia," Husk said. "How are you? Did you get through that in one piece?" After a pause, he rumbled, "And don't say I'm fine."

Octavia's eyes widened a little. "So I've been warned," she said, giving Crymini a sideways glance. "Shaken. A little scared. A little angry. But not hurt. Thanks for helping us. I'm really sorry about that."

"Hey, you weren't the one attacking innocent demons," Husk replied. "Being one of that witch's targets doesn't put anything she did on you."

"I think that abomination was sent by my mother," Octavia admitted, looking aside.

"Don't change what I said," Husk reaffirmed. "You've got a place here as long as you need it. We got a few rules, but Crymini will fill you in." Crymini was glad he left it at that.

Husk walked past the Goetia teen, eyes locked on Crymini. "How about you?"

"Gramps, I'm fine." Crymini immediately winced. "Sorry. But I'm okay, really."

"No, you're not," Octavia betrayed her.

Husk stepped closer. "I'm going to hug you now. Don't freak out."

Crymini groaned and braced. Here it comes. And it did. She was grasped and wrapped by fur and wings and caring. She donned her best put-upon face and endured it.

"That was damn brave of you, charging to the rescue the moment you saw that picture," Husk rumbled. "Proud of you. Also disappointed. What did you mean, that woman killed you last month? Why didn't you tell us?"

"What?" Octavia gasped.

Ugh! "I didn't want to cause the mom's stress. They were getting ready for their wedding."

Husk let go, standing back, holding her by the shoulders. "Who is she?"

"Is?" Crymini's ears flattened. "Still?" She had so expected Husk had turned her into soup.

Husk's lips thinned is a grimace. "Don't know. I threw her into a volcano. Might have finished her. But she was more powerful than any Overlord I've known. And I've known the Radio Demon."

"She's some snatch involved in Roo Shit," Crymini said. "She attacked me near the Roo Shit House where big sis died. Stole all my blood. That's all I know." She added, "Jack found my body. Took care of me for my respawn."

Husk stared, wide-eyed. "She took your blood?!"

"Yeah. Said I had something she wanted. Bam. Dead puppy," Crymini grumped. Husk looked like he was freaking out a bit. "But I'm okay now. Better than ever. Got the Roo Cleanse."

Husk stared at her, looking panicked. But he stowed his freaking and hugged her again. "Fuck, Crym! Don't ever go dying on us without telling us!"

Week Six, Day Two - Stigma Penthouse, late afternoon:

Cherri Bomb walked into the Penthouse through the lower floor entrance. Her wing ached enough she wasn't going to try to fly.

She closed the door behind her and gingerly pulled off the hoodie she was wearing.

She'd gotten the idea from Molly. The spider twin once told her that she'd decided on packing hoodies for any trips to Hell, figuring that covering her halo could prevent problems. She wasn't wrong; loads of Sinners with Extermination-related PTSD.

She still had her star-shaped shade from her days hanging with Angie. Between that and the hoodie, no angel would notice how beat up she was unless she got close.

She'd have to figure out something better for getting angels home after fights. There wasn't a lot of personal transit in a city where everyone had wings, and neither she nor Ro could do portals.

First day and she had a solid recruit. Cherri Bomb found she really didn't care that Ro had been an Exorcist. The resentment she expected to harbor didn't survive the fight. If anything, she valued the proper medic skills.

Cherri Bomb felt the back of her head and winced. It hurt. That second whack against the concrete had left her hair matted with gold, but Heaven had cleaned that on the walk back. The bleeding had all stopped now. Her split lip had closed too. But the internal injuries were going to take some time.

According to the gerbil, Ro's cracked arm bone would probably take all night. She insisted it would be fine by the morning.

"What the fuck happened to you!?"

Jazmine's cry shattered the delusion Cherri Bomb was enjoying. So much for just walking it off without anyone noticing.

The angelfish angel leapt up from the couch, running to her, looking her over.

"Okay, seriously, what are ya seeing?" Cherri Bomb asked.

"You're limping!" Jazmine said. "And your wing's bent!"

"If I lied and said I flew into a door, would ya believe me?"

Jaz put her hands on her hips. "Definite no."

"Got into a fight," Cherri Bomb said, smirking. "I lost."

"Fuck!" Jaz said. The way her eyes began to shift told Cherri Bomb she was working through the possibilities. Her posture started to convey worry.

"What's going on?" Mikhal said, coming down the stairs. He stopped, looking at Cherri Bomb. "Have you been sparring?"

Right. Adam's former band.

"It's my Good Work," Cherri Bomb announced. "Sparring as... aggression release therapy."

Jaz immediately looked more at ease. "For a sec, I thought you'd gotten jumped by an Exorcist."

Cherri Bomb couldn't help it. "Nah. I mean, she tried. But I blocked. Still kicked my ass."

Mikhal shook his head. "I had no idea what we were getting into with you." His smile told her he was here for it. "You are one crazy cunt."

"Want in?" Cherri Bomb asked, grinning.

Week Six, Day Two - Manowar Farm, Wrath, late afternoon:

Gretchen looked up from feeding the lava beetles when Tessa started growling.

The naked woman with the long flowing hair walked towards them across the magma river coming off the volcano.

"What the fuck are you?" Gretchen heard her father say. The stranger was no imp. Nor hellhound. Tall enough to be a Goetia, but all skin save for the hair. No feathers.

"Naked," the stranger cackled. "And you'll clothe me. You have something that I want."

"Like fuck I will," he spat. "Gretch, get the shotgun."

Gretchen moved to reach behind the water trough. "Got it!" she announced, pulling up the four-barrel, blessing-tipped monster. "Time to make some demon spaghetti!"

Tessa charged at the stranger, teeth bared.

Gretchen watched in horror as a tendril of entrails tore out of the naked woman's stomach and wrapped itself against their hellhound, lifting her and plunging her into the molten stream. Tessa tried to scream and died swallowing lava.

"I appreciate the offer of fur," the woman grinned, her mouth full of blackened and burned maggots. "But I like wearing red."

Week Six, Day Two - Octavia's Bedroom, late afternoon:

Crymini hung the Do Not Disturb sign on the doorknob and closed the door. That should work for Octavia's room. Probably wouldn't if they were in her own.

"That was the third person to learn about this morning and come asking if you were okay," Octavia said, marveling a little. She was sitting on the bed, fingering the little chocolate that had been sitting on the pillow. Something Lute had mentioned to Charlie in passing and the mom had latched onto like a horny dog.

Fuck! Not a thought she wanted. Crymini growled inwardly and shoved that shit in a corner.

"Yeah. We're a found family deal here. For real. Never had this many people care about me in my life." Crymini groaned, "They're really into hugging too."

Octavia cocked her head. "That seems nice." There was a little bit of chiding in her voice.

Crymini got it. Yeah, yeah, don't complain about having it too good. Says the princess.

Crymini made a note to see how Angel Dust was feeling. Tomorrow. At breakfast, when she could be sure she wouldn't be walking in on him and Husk. Good for gramps.

"I should bring you with next time I try to talk Jack into coming here. He thinks the place sounds too good to be true. Back me on the catch."

"The catch?"

Crymini nodded. "You'll find yourself surrounded with people who really care about you. And that you care about. Plus, some of them have powerful enemies. So it can be dangerous."

Octavia immediately looked apprehensive. Crymini couldn't blame her. The owl teen came here to escape a powerful enemy. Far as Crymini was concerned, that just meant she fit in.

"Not usually though," Crymini quickly assured her. "Today's been abnormally dank. It's like the wedding focused shit." And now a distraction. "That black shield was you, right?"

The goth owl girl nodded. "Goetia magic. I'm still learning."

"Vicious!" Crymini grinned, her tail wagging. "That power is fucking savage! And thanks. Car patty would have been a suckass way to get torn."

Octavia blushed a little, seeming surprised at the compliment. Like she didn't get many. Or, at least, not for her magic. "I guess it is pretty cool." A smile.

Crymini opened the vodka and offered it to her. The owl teen waved it off. So Crymini helped herself to a healthy swig. Let the warmth settle in. "So... the necklace I swallowed... what is it?"

Octavia scowled briefly at the reminder, then rolled her eyes. "It's my dad's incredibly sweet effort to make up for not being there for me while still not actually being there for me. So it's got sentimental value, okay."

A pause. She looked down. "Weird, conflicted sentimental value."

Crymini promised, "You'll have it back."

"I better." Octavia shot her another frown, then relented. "It's not poisonous or anything. It's just a pretty rock. Probably from space."

She seemed to contemplate that. "Or dad gave me an insanely rare magical reagent as a necklace. Depends on if you believe in bedtime stories."

That sounded more like something abomi-cunt would have wanted. "I'm willing to bet Miss Cryptid Sandiego does," Crymini said. "She self-associates with Roo bullshit."

"So..." Octavia began. Then hesitated, drawing in on herself. She pulled her knees up to her, hugging them. "...you don't think my mum sent her, then?"

Crymini could tell the girl had a lot of deep, dank shit to unload. She knew what that felt like. And how good it was to have someone who would just sit and listen as all the bile poured out. Jack did that for her.

The owl teen's expression told her that the girl wasn't just going to vomit everything, no matter how much she wanted to. So Crymini gave permission. "My ears are up. Vomit out your dank."

Week Six, Day Two - Stigma Penthouse, late afternoon:

Cherri Bomb rested on the couch, surrounded by the band. She'd filled them in. The whole plan. Mikhal was in. Jaz was supportive, but on the fence about checking it for herself. Razor thought this was all going to blow up in her face. They were a good bunch of cunts. Reminded her a little of her family back at the Hazbin.

Cherri Bomb's phone buzzed, lighting up on the floor. She reached for it and winced, groaning as pain shot up her back. That throw had been vicious. In the normal and Crymini use of the word.

Her fingers reached out and snared it. She lifted it to her face.

Charlie calling. Routed through the Heaven Embassy, courtesy of Voxtek.

Well fuck. She needed to call up Penty and congratulate him. It worked!

"Charlie?" She smiled, hearing the woman's voice on the other end. "Whatcha doing callin', mom? Shouldn't ya be a hundred climaxes deep in an orgasm pit by now?"

She could almost feel the blush radiating through the phone. Jasmine's eyebrows went up higher than Cherri Bomb thought they could. Yeah, the hotel moms are something special.

Charlie managed to stammer her way into the reason for calling. "We talked to an Elder Above today. The one who rescued you when you died in Sloth."

Everything went cold. There was a slight buzzing in Cherri Bomb's ears. She couldn't say anything.

"He told us you ascended to Heaven because of how much you improved. You earned your redemption."

A slow numbness washed over her. "Did I?"

"Yes! Emily says you were worried, so we wanted to tell you right away! Heaven is where you're supposed to be!"

Then this afterlife dysphoria isn't coming from Heaven. Everything that feels wrong about this is coming from inside me.

"That's great, mom!" Cherri Bomb said, forcing a smile. "Really ripper. Huge relief. Thanks for letting me know." She could barely breathe. "Now you three melt each other extra hard in celebration. I want a fucking hole between Wrath and Gluttony before you come home."

Charlie lost coherency. Cherri Bomb heard Vaggie take the phone. "Great job, Cherri. You broke Charlie. Hanging up now. Enjoy Heaven."

"I will."

Bugger.

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel private room, late afternoon:

"That kiss was a surprise."

Angel Dust sat next to him on the chaise. It felt both good and awkward, being so close to him right now. Husk's spirit was still buzzing from the high of his angelic unleashing... and he absolutely recognized that for what it was now.

A month ago, he and Angel Dust had sat in a crappy, run-down motel room in a bad part of Imp City, talking about how worrisome it was that this angelic power had no downside. Well, he'd found the downside, and it was severe. Especially for someone with his problems.

But more than that, Husk felt nervous. He spent the day fearing the person he had grown to care about most was going to suffer the horrifying fate he'd long dreaded the Radio Demon would inflict on him. Feeling helpless while realizing how much Angel Dust meant to him.

"It was for me too," Husk admitted. "And look... I don't want to fuck up what we've got. You're the best friend I've ever had."

"You generally don't kiss your best friend," Angel Dust noted, looking at him. The spider's tone was earnest. No suggestiveness. No sarcasm. "You sure we ain't more?"

Husk didn't have a solid answer for that. "All I know is how I've felt since Arackniss took you. And how it was killing me to not be able to sweep in and... do anything."

Angel Dust shook his head at that. "You sent a rescue party," he countered. "And gave them the power to pull us out of there. Pull me out before my brother succeeded in murdering me."

Husk's eyes clenched shut. Why was this hard? He opened them again, and Angel Dust was staring into his. "I don't want to lose you," Husk rumbled. Part of him wanted to break the stare. To look anyplace else. He didn't dare. "Ever."

"Well, you certainly ain't going to lose me by kissing me," the beautiful spider promised. "You have no idea how much I've wanted that."

Okay, now was time for humor and sarcasm. Because otherwise the emotions would be too much. "Really? You should have dropped a hint."

"Oh fuck you!" Angel Dust laughed. Then teased, "Actually..." But he stopped.

Husk sighed. "I don't know if I'm in love," he told Angel Dust. "Or if I ever can be. That part of me got burned out a long time ago." He closed his eyes again. And opened his heart as much as he could. His words were more an admission to himself than to his dear friend. "But I do love you. These last twenty-four have made that really clear."

Angel Dust slid out off the couch and moved to kneel before him, placing hands on his knees. Two more took the cat demon's hands in his own. The position put him at eye level. "Feeling's mutual, Husk. Has been for a long time."

The song the girls sang at their wedding came back to Husk: Though the future is uncertain, we commit to facing it together. It is by our choice we forge this union for the rest of our forever.

He was hesitating, had been for months, out of fear. Waiting as if there would be a sign from the God he didn't quite believe in whether he should take the gamble. Because he knew what it was like to gamble and lose.

After a moment, Angel Dust stood up, still holding Husk's hands. "So... we going to kiss again? Maybe more?"

Husk said. "I think your sister had it right."

Angel Dust raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"We're friends," Husk reiterated. "Close friends. But I can't pretend we're just that anymore. I think I'm finally open to an addition of with benefits."

Now he had a solid answer. Because he chose one.

Week Six, Day Two - Wrugged Wrentals , Wrath, early evening:

Vaggie sat with Emily at an outdoor picnic table and ran her fingers gently over Emily's halo, feeling the hairline split in the shining band. It wasn't very big, and impossible to see from a distance, but it was definitely there.

Neither of them had any idea what this meant.

"Adam stole my halo, and it didn't change me," she consoled. At least, it didn't change her in any way she could put a finger on. In her mind, halos had always been more like dog tags. Lute had taken Adam's back to Heaven after he died as proof of death.

Behind her, Charlie was dumping a pile of cash into the hands of the imp who ran the RV lot. The whole point of having their honeymoon, or at least the first part of it in Wrath, was to get away from everyone. That meant an RV and camping gear. Vaggie had already arranged most of that, but Charlie was the one with the money.

"My sister wasn't cast down because of the Exterminations at all, was she?" Emily said somberly. "The Elders Above never cared what angels did in Hell. They cast down Sera because her actions created disharmony in Heaven."

It is my theory that the Elders devised a test to see if a soul was corrupted enough that, instead of Heaven helping them get better, they'd make Heaven worse. Those ruled too contagious to risk were rejected from Heaven.

Vaggie nodded. "That would be my guess. She was making Heaven worse."

Vaggie sighed. "Which is exactly what terrified her," Vaggie admitted to her wife. "Sera was worried that if demons got into Heaven, they would make it worse."

Emily was staring at her in wonder and hurt. "This is... part of the rain secret, right?"

Vaggie nodded. "Sera has been living in fear that the Elders Above would decide Heaven isn't worth saving and have Azrael wipe and reset literally everything, including Heaven."

It was clearly killing Emily to realize her sister had been plagued by such fear for as long as she knew her. And probably hurt more that Sera never confided any of this to her little sister. "This is pain she wanted to shield you from."

"Wafers and wine!" Emily stood up. "She told me we can't worry about demons when we have our own souls to protect."

Ouch.

"But that's insane!" Emily insisted. "We're Heaven! We should care about everybody. That's part of what being good is! I'm pretty sure caring only about you and yours, or worse only yourself, is what gets most people into Hell!"

Charlie returned bearing a key. Just a normal key. To the RV, which wasn't a Horse. "Vaggie?"

"Demons can't threaten Heaven," Emily ranted. "The only way demons could get into Heaven would be if they were invited. Or are redeemed, in which case they aren't demons anymore."

Because they pass whatever test the Elders Above use to tell if the soul will get better in Heaven or will make Heaven worse, Vaggie thought, followed quickly by, I should call Baxter.

"Working through Azrael's cluster bombing of our reality," Vaggie told Charlie. She looked at the key. "You seriously want me to drive? We just escaped death."

"You are the only one who knows how," Charlie reminded her, kissing her on the forehead and dropping the key into her lap. She then walked over and embraced their ranting wife.

Vaggie smiled as Emily slowly decompressed in Charlie's hug.

Week Six, Day Two - The Court of Hell, Wrath, early evening:

Lilith stood before the upper throne, Throne of Lucifer. A seat of power and authority. Majestic. Vacant. Abandoned.

Lucifer had always looked so good sitting here. But in truth, she had sat on it more often than her husband. Judging by the cobwebs, her husband hadn't engaged in his duties since her disappearance. Lilith looked down at the toy duck he had left in his stead.

Lilith reached down, brushing away the cobwebs, and picked up the note. BRB 5 MIN.

"Now that's. Just. Sad."

Lava poured from the hanging braziers that lined the courtroom, pooling in the pit between the seats of the Sins and the blocks of the accused. Casting the room of judgement in an infernal glow. Azrael walked in the air above the hellish magma.

"I liked how you looked sitting here," Azrael said.

"You liked Adam." What Azrael liked didn't hold a lot of weight with her.

"What wasn't to love?" Azrael asked, spreading his arms. "The man was pure id!" He reached the lower throne, the Throne of Satan. "Not that I mourn his passing. He crossed the line when he violated the Pardon. His time was over."

Lilith turned to watch him. She was only mildly surprised Death didn't have the gall to sit on Satan's throne. But instead, he spread black, scythe-like wings and rose above it.

"Would have been fitting for Adam to meet punishment for that Sin here," Azrael said, looking back over the fiery courthouse. "This is a place of death. So unlike the Court of Heaven." Hovering over Satan's throne, Death spread his arms again, announcing to no one, "And his end should be televised!"

Lilith allowed a small smile at that. "It was at least reported on."

Azrael turned back towards her, his eyes pausing to linger on one of the empty seats before meeting hers. "Speaking of the Courts, how is dear Sera doing? Have you spoken with your recent flame?"

Lilith said nothing. It was absolutely none of the man's business. Death waited a few heartbeats in sepulcher silence, then moved on. "Zad and Love are getting reacquainted," he said as he landed on her level, standing opposite Lucifer's throne. "Now all we need is Malhama and... the limo."

A heaviness rang in the air. Like a gong whose reverberations had been stretched beyond their welcome. A hot wind stirred in the chamber.

"I am sure she has named it," Lilith assured him. "And it is probably atrocious."

"Oh what be the color of yonder pot, miss kettle?" Azrael laughed. "There are some things love cannot conquer, Lilith."

Lilith leveled a gaze at him. "Says the man in love."

Azrael frowned. "Strictly from a distance, I assure you," he said. "By necessity."

The heaviness became an audible ringing, like a warning. Anxious. Anticipatory.

"I'm sure she appreciates it. Or would if she had a clue."

Azrael strode forward. "Lilith, join with me." He lifted a hand towards her. The ringing broke into a violent cascade of percussion, pounding through the chamber. He began to sing.

"Do not make me oppose you.
Let Conquest ride with Death.
You cannot sing your song
If you don't have a breath."

Lilith took his hand. In dance but not in agreement. The sound of seven cellos joined the thunderous drums. Azrael's instrument. But he was not in control. Lilith swept him into her dance. A tango with Death. And the next verse was hers.

"You may be one of Them,
But Horsemen have a choice
Azrael, join with me,
Let Them now hear your voice."

Her movements were graceful and predatory. She slipped behind him seductively, the First Succubus caressing the Angel of Death as her violins joined the strings and the aggressive voice of a grand piano added to the percussion.

Azrael broke the caress and spun, pushing her back, singing. Their steps in perfect sync.

"Yours is a dang'rous play,
Waged in the Final Game.
If you stand against me,
You just have yourself to blame.

He took her hand and spun her, drawing her back towards him. She stopped, facing away, her back against his chest. His six scythe-like wings rose behind him, casting shadows. She sang.

"And if you stand against me
Humility you'll learn."

Her arms rose, guided by his. Two figures, male and female, lingered in a crucifix pose.

Then she broke away, turning to him, holding out her hands. In them was a box. The message she had received, delivered by a Goetia Prince but originating from a far less wholesome source.

"I bring a little gift:
A mutual concern."

The percussion stopped. The cellos fell silent. The violins played a long, vibrating note, low and hesitant. The piano trilled. Azreal opened the box and stared down at the contents.

The percussion began again, building as he looked into her eyes and nodded. The cellos invaded rapturously. Azrael sang, and this time Lilith joined with him, their voices raising in harmony.

"With me or against me,
We work as one for now.
And when the ashes fall
We'll look for common ground."

The music ended abruptly. A last note from the violins lingered in the air, then sank into that heavy ringing that suffused the Court of Hell. The flow of lava from the braziers slowed to drips, then stopped altogether.

Azrael took the message, slipping it away. He and Lilith did not exchange another word. He turned and departed the courtroom. The chamber fell back into darkness.

Lilith heard the heavy door bearing the symbols of the Seven Deadly Sins close behind Death.

In the blackness of the hallway beyond the door, the cellos took up a new note. Azrael sang his outro alone.

"With me in my darkness,
All will be laid to rest."

"So Lilith, join me now,
Or with your dying breath.
They say love conquers all.
But nothing conquers Death."

Back in the Court of Hell, the braziers once again flowed, more heavily than before, spilling lava that pooled in the pit. Lilith strode forward, bathed in the infernal glow. Lava cooled into stepping stones of obsidian beneath her feet. Her outro was a tour de force.

"With me or against me,
Heavy will be the crown."

"They broke my beloved !
Made Sera's family drown!
And now I am coming
To burn Their Kingdom down!"

Conquest turned her gaze upwards. Her face was etched with rage and all the fires of Hell burned in her eyes. And about her, Hell trembled with the force of her fury.

"She They erased from history,
Is the one who'll make Them pay.
I pray that you'll stand with me.
But don't get in my way."

Week Six, Day Two - von Eldritch Estate, early evening:

Seviathan stared at Stolas across the forward parlor's main table. "So, can you do it?"

Green fire crackled in the fireplaces. It had grown late enough that the high-set windows were not getting direct light. The paragon chandelier cast a web of shadows across the room.

Stolas frowned. This meeting had not gone at all to his liking. Granted, he had come to meet with Frederick von Eldritch. And it had become increasingly clear that he was fortunate not to have found him.

Stolas may have been a Prince, but he was at best a novice one. Seviathan may have been matched to his daughter, but the younger von Eldritch still had several times his experience, particularly in such political matters. Despite Seviathan openly admitting to having no love for them, nor great finesse.

"Can? Yes," Stolas answered. "The question is if I should. We're talking about the highly illegal misuse of the Goetia Archives to generate blackmail against my father."

Seviathan nodded. He idly tapped a chopstick against the plate in front of him. All that remained on the plate was a chunky swirl of gravy. They had both eaten. "That is how these games are played," the young von Eldritch said. "And in my experience, fathers respect this sort of move."

Stolas could not imagine the sort of father who would respect his son for blackmailing him. Which meant he had no idea how to approach Frederick von Eldritch at all. He feared for Octavia becoming part of this family.

At the same time, he would feel absolutely no remorse if his actions inconvenienced Paimon. "Oh, I'm not worried about my father's sentiments. He can go jump in a lake in Greed."

"You see, here's the problem..." Stolas got out of his chair, stepping away from the table. This felt like something you should say while standing. So he stood before one of the burning fires, the green flames reflecting in his eyes. "I've already gotten myself in quite a bit of trouble engaging in less than legal activities, which has directly resulted in my being unable to fight against Paimon's Contract for Via myself. I'm not sure the best thing I can do for Via is to engage in even more."

Seviathan turned in his chair to look at the Goetia father. "Do you have another option?"

"I don't know," Stolas admitted. "I am beginning to see just how beyond me this sort of thing is."

Stolas turned from the flames. "But in the very least, I have the option to talk to my daughter before doing something this extreme. If we try and fail, it could make things even worse for her. Or remove me from her life entirely. Via's already lost one parent for being a monster. She shouldn't lose the other for being a fool."

Seviathan tossed the chopstick onto his plate. "Can your daughter be trusted not to spread what you tell her?" Stolas immediately understood how badly things would go if word of this little conspiracy reached Paimon before any action was taken.

"Yes! Via would not hurt me," Stolas said, waving a hand with absolute conviction. "And she has no love for her grandfather. Who has never even talked to her, much less been part of her life."

Seviathan stood up. "Then I envy her. My father clearly isn't in the habit of taking my preferences into consideration." He walked over and stood next to Stolas by the fire. "In the meantime, I'll work up a fallback plan."

"So you will accept abandoning this plan if Via says this is a step too far?"

Seviathan looked up at him. "If we fail, your daughter will almost certainly become my wife. I'm not planning to start that relationship by ignoring her when she tells me no."

Well, that was something, at least.

Week Six, Day Two - Carmine Residence, evening:

Carmilla Carmine's knife cut into the roast beast on her plate, slicing off a bite-sized chunk of the meat. Seared to a nice medium. In life, she preferred a slightly bloodier cook, but her first visit to Cannibal Town put her off of that preference.

The girls were out. Tonight, Carmilla shared her table with a special guest.

"So you believe Princess Morningstar's hotel truly provides a functional path to redemption?" she asked. Not out of surprise, but clarification.

Carmilla had known Cherri Bomb before her passing and ascension. The woman had worked with her daughters in collecting angelic weapons from the Doomsday District. Yesterday, she had met the angel that Cherri Bomb had become. There was no question she was the same woman, despite some physiological differences.

Baxter looked up from his plate. "What we have is the confirmation of a theory."

He took a sip of the wine. Then adjusted his glasses. "I took all the data that I could compile and formulated a hypothesis. Vaggie took that hypothesis to a primary source and had it confirmed."

Carmilla nodded, lifting the slice of meat and biting it. Of the motley crew in the princess' hotel, Vaggie was the one she would trust most. Unlike Charlie or Emily, Vaggie was well grounded. Not prone to being lost in flights of fancy.

Cherri Bomb with wings and a halo was truly a sight to behold. She gave Carmilla hope for her daughters. Finally, she could allow herself to not just pursue this, but to believe in it.

Her eyes shifted to the oil painting above the dining room fireplace. Her daughters gazed back at her from it. Clara smiling. Odette serious. In her eyes, they were practically angels already.

Baxter ate a few bites from his mixed vegetables before continuing. "We are very far from having a process. I still need at least one more successful ascension to even begin building models," the anglerfish demon scientist told her. "But as of today, Princess Morningstar and the High Seraphim actually know what they are trying to do."

The Overlord took a drink from her wine. "And what of the other project?" Carmilla asked, looking across the table at the scientist who had once worked for her. Who had come to her asking for a chain, but whom she had never truly owned even with one.

Baxter chewed and swallowed. Then stabbed at the meat with his knife. "Still conceptual, unfortunately," he admitted. "The science is sound. I have a few mock ups. But the weapon has a vital limitation: I cannot replicate a seraphim's power."

Carmilla was hardly surprised. "So a weapon that destroys the chains held by an Overlord isn't possible." On one level, that was a relief. Despite being a disappointment.

"Oh, it is possible," Baxter corrected her. "In fact, I am quite certain I could build it."

Carmilla stopped mid-chew, her eyes widening. She swallowed, sitting back and staring at the small anglerfish scientist.

Mass destruction of Contracts. Risk free to those chained.

Baxter continued to eat. He looked up again after washing down his bite. "The catch is that it could only be wielded by someone with the power of a seraphim." He frowned. "So while I could build a prototype, testing it becomes problematic."

He looked across the table at her. "I have to ask, Carmilla," he said, cocking his head, his lure dangling askew. "Do you see this catch as a flaw? Or a feature?"

Week Six, Day Two - Non-Euclidean, Greed, evening:

Frederick sat at the circular bar, nursing his arsenic, barely listening to the pack of hellhounds on stage. The Hounds of Tindalos. All adopted by abomination families.

"I'm not afraid of the darkness that surrounds me!"
"...the shadows..."
"...the shallows..."

"I embrace the dying of the light!"

"Destruction cometh and Death cannot touch me!"
"...the shallows..."
"...Tindalos!"

"Abaddon's children are ready to fight!"

"And the Final Game will play to the fanfare of our fucking pets," he whispered before downing the last splash in the tumbler. He could have done without that particular reference. He waved to the bartender, a black fly-like abomination who poured him another.

Lucifer sat down beside him as Frederick drew a small jar from his waistcoat, pulling out the dripper and unleashing two drops into his poison. The King raised an eyebrow.

"I've taken to adding a few drops of euphorbia resinifera to my arsenic," Frederick said, putting the bottle away. "Gives it the kick I'm looking for." He smiled ruefully. "I guess that means I'm getting old. Hell of a time for it."

The bartender buzzed at Lucifer, surprised to see the King of Hell in an abomination bar.

"You don't by any chance have Beelzejuice?" Lucifer asked. That got a buzz of affirmation. He covered his face a little and whispered to Frederick, "I never know what to order in these places."

"Good choice," Frederick told him, taking a sip of his drink. "Probably safer for you than the water." That wasn't an abomination thing, just a Greed thing.

Lucifer waited for his drink. "Hear you're looking to have grandkids."

Frederick nodded. "I've lit the fire. But ultimately, that will be up to Seviathan." A baleful chuckle. "Sure as Hell not going to get any from Helsa." He looked at Lucifer. "How about you?"

Lucifer smiled. "I gained two more daughters. I'm happy." The bartender brought Lucifer his Beezlejuice in a fluted glass.

Frederick lifted his tumbler of arsenic. "To our legacies."

Lucifer joined in the toast: "May they fuck up less than we did." He took a drink. "So... Helsa is Famine?"

Frederick nodded. "Helsa is Famine."

"How long have you known?" Lucifer asked.

Behind them, Hounds of Tindalos had started a number invoking profane mathematics and dreamholds. It was astounding the things they blithely referenced with no real understanding.

"Had a suspicion when she turned that roiling black mass from Below into a limousine," Frederick told his oldest and possibly only friend. "The thing that first emerged was supposed to be a unicorn. I think. Loosely speaking."

He watched a group of kids barely a century old dare each other to order water.

"We knew for certain when she returned from her extended vacation to the Bermuda Triangle." Always was her favorite Shallow. Lucifer had been with him when they returned from caging Victor to find Helsa's goodbye note.

He turned back to Lucifer. "You know, your daughter could have been one of them too if you'd held that Key for her as a Graduation present like I told you to."

"To be given at the right time," Lucifer said before draining half his glass. "That wasn't going to happen. No way we were giving Char-Char something from the Powers Below without knowing what it was. And knowing what I do now, not regretting that choice."

The King of Hell stared at his fluted glass, half empty. "Regretting not having you open a pit for me to hurl it into before Lily used it."

Frederick had to wonder who would have ended up with it if he did. "So... Lilith is Conquest?"

Lucifer downed the rest of his drink. "Lilith is Conquest."

Week Six, Day Two - Fair Trade Cafe, Sloth, evening:

The bell over the door jingled merrily as Charlie entered. The smells of coffee wrapped her like a warm blanket. The soft, warm lights beckoned her to leave all her cares at the door and enter.

She could see why her sister-in-law loved this place. It brought a smile to her face. Brightened her already rose-spotted cheeks.

Charlie looked around and spotted Sera. Emily was right. When they didn't find Sera at Belphegor's, this is the place Emily suggested she might be. And she was right that Charlie should look for tall, because the outfit Sera was wearing was not like her at all. Moreso, she had hidden her wings, something Charlie had never seen Sera do before.

Charlie turned in the doorway and nodded back towards Vaggie and Emily. Then Charlie held up a hand, silently asking for some time alone with the woman first. Emily fretted a little, but her wives both waved her on.

Charlie entered the embrace of Fair Trade and approached Sera, taking in the dark sweater and jeans. Her sister-in-law was drinking a cup of black coffee as she browsed a Voxtek notepad that was probably a severe step down from the crystalline datapads she had used in Heaven.

Sera looked up at her approach. "Hello..." With the slightest ghost of a smile, she added, "Sister."

Oh, that is going to take some getting used to.

Charlie felt a flash of anxiety, her mind refusing not to remember that the woman calling her family was once the woman who allowed Adam to slaughter millions of her people. And maybe that was something she shouldn't ever forget. But it was something she should absolutely forgive. Because forgiveness wasn't saying something was okay. It was letting go of your resentment. And giving the other person a chance. One that Sera, for all the evil she had done, deserved.

Now Sera did smile a little. "It is as awkward for me." She motioned with her free hand for Charlie to join her at the table.

Charlie sat down, taking a moment to marvel at the table, the coffee beans under glass. Such a neat idea.

"Would it be better if I saw you more as a granddaughter?" Sera offered, reminding Charlie that the fallen seraphim had Created her mother.

Charlie laughed, cringing. "Oh, that's so much worse."

Sera nodded in clear agreement. Then tapped at the notepad.

Charlie glanced at it. "Retirement homes?" Was Sera looking to leave Belphegor? Or, at least, move out of her estate? Was she preparing for the worst if Belphegor didn't wake up? Surely she wouldn't abandon her!

Sera put those worries to rest. "I'm looking at registries. I'm trying to find someone. It is a little more difficult without knowing their new name."

Oh! "Maybe I can help?"

Sera shook her head. "You sought me out. Why?"

Right into it then. For the best. "I'm hoping you can help Emily." Before she could conjure worries, Charlie quickly said, "Emily's here with us. I'll let her tell you herself. But she insisted that I talk to you first."

Sera looked out the window over the heads of the other patrons. She relaxed when she saw Emily with Vaggie, smiling brightly and waving at her. "What about?" Sera asked, turning back.

"We met one of the Elders Above today."

Sera sat up straight, all her eyes opening wide.

"His name is Azreal, and..." Charlie stopped as Sera's demeanor instantly changed. Her body stiffened. Her eyes glowed red. Her expression became extremely guarded. For someone whom the Elders Above never talked to, that was a strong and very personal reaction to one in specific. "...he was horrifying. But he did clarify a lot of things. And he said something I really need to ask you about."

Sera put down her coffee. "No." Sera had stiffened even more. Her primary eyes locked on Charlie, but the others looked about like she was preparing exit strategies.

Charlie pressed. "About my mother."

Again, Sera's demeanor changed. Relaxed a little. There was something she very, very much did not want to talk about, but Lilith wasn't it. Charlie remembered the way Sera had acted when they went with Emily to ask about making it rain in Heaven. This felt like that. Was Azrael connected to not wanting rain somehow?

Sera nodded. "My apologies. Of course. I would not hold any secrets about your mother from you."

Charlie was thankful to hear that. That night in the hot tub two months ago was still painfully fresh in her memory sometimes. Especially right now. Part of her feared a repeat. "Azrael said I should ask you why my mother was cast down."

Sera closed her eyes. Deflated a bit. "I see." She pulled out her phone. "Allow me to make a call first." Before Charlie could get a wrong impression, Sera explained, "To Husk. I wish to borrow a little of my old power back. It would be better to show you the unfiltered truth."

Week Six, Day Two - Vees Tower, evening:

Velvette sat cross-legged on the floor of her penthouse. Tiny, glowing windows filled with posts and messages slowly swirled around her head like a social media halo, woven together by algorithms that manifested as velvet threads of pulsing light.

Reacquisition Day had been over a month ago. But she had been reluctant to tap the power gained by taking on nearly forty percent of Valentino's Contracts, much less to delve into the filthy particulars of the Contracts themselves. She was rectifying that now. It wasn't as if his ghost was going to haunt her through them.

Velvette was self-absorbed, but not so much that she didn't feel thankful that her lovely, one-armed angel companion had sussed her out. Somehow, being able to talk with someone who knew had dissolved the internal roadblock that had held her back.

The floating window near her left ear buzzed for attention. Velvette spun the halo around to focus on it. Speak of the angel. Lute was texting.

May I come in?

Velvette's brow furrowed. She switched to her home security app, pulling up the camera installed in the door. The vestibule outside her room looked empty at first. With a suspicion, Velvette aimed the camera down. Lute was sitting on the carpet. It was easier to text with one hand when she didn't have to hold the phone.

Lute could have knocked. But she texted, despite the inconvenience. Velvette smiled, certain it was because the fallen angel was playing to the social media Overlord's preferences.

She frowned a little, noting the bandage around Lute's hand. The ginger way she was tapping on the phone. Lute wasn't like that yesterday. Something had managed to injure the fallen angel.

Through the home security app, Velvette deactivated the defenses and signaled the door to unlock and the bolts to retract. Not that the defenses would have done much to the woman who had fucked up a helicopter with her body.

They would probably just make her nude again. And Velvette would fix that.

A few minutes later, the two women were together at Velvette's dining room table. The Overlord and the Fallen Exorcist. Velvette had offered a drink and Lute had accepted. By the time she had returned with two glasses and a bottle, there was an additional guest on her table.

Velvette looked over the angelic crossbow with its rose gold flower petal motif. She rather liked the design, even if it leaned a little too much into the cute. It was definitely not suited to the warrior next to her.

"So, how is this supposed to work?" Velvette asked, pouring Lute a glass of burgundy.

Lute took the glass with a nod of thanks. "The cupid arrows are the golden ones," the angel said. "But aren't like the Love Potion. No injected emotions, no tweaking of sexuality. Instead, they..." Lute made air quotes, "Open your heart to love."

Velvette knew an advertising slogan when she heard it. "And what exactly does that mean?"

Lute sipped her burgundy. "That means it clears away all your baggage and lets you see the person without all your blinders. Whether that person is someone you love, or are attracted to, is up to your heart."

That still sounded a bit on-the-tin for Velvette. But she knew Lute wasn't trying to conceal a deeper truth. The Overlord suspected Heaven may just work on that level. She'd seen the High Seraphim in charge. Emily didn't exactly scream depth.

Velvette drank from her own glass, staring at the crossbow. She had reservations. "In my experience, we are our baggage." Still, this was as close as they could hope to come. "How long do you have this?"

Lute leaned back. "I'll remember to give this back to Molly in a day or two."

Velvette nodded. She stood up, setting her glass of burgundy aside, and picked up the weapon. It was small and surprisingly light. A golden arrow gleamed, ready and waiting.

She looked at Lute. The woman was amazing. Beautiful and fucking fierce. Lute knew Velvette's biggest secret and accepted her without judgment. To say she wanted to bed the warrior was an understatement. The idea of something longer than a night was tantalizing.

She didn't want to be Lute's experiment.

But nobody who just wanted to taste and see practically cut her hand off for it. Velvette looked at the Heavenly bandage wrapped around Lute's only hand. Then leveled the flowery crossbow.

"Okay. Where do you want it?" Velvette asked, shifting her weight to one hip as she held the angelic cupid weapon at her friend.

Lute's eyes flashed with appreciation. They narrowed as she smirked. "Well, let's do it right."

The harpy angel stood up, drawing up her shirt to bear the smooth albino skin and captivating mounds beneath. "Go for my heart."

Week Six, Day Two - Octavia's Bedroom, evening:

"...couldn't believe she said that!" Octavia vented, pacing back and forth while Crymini sat on the bed and listened. "I mean, fine, yes, fuck dad for needing to find happiness with some asshole instead of being able to find it actually being with me." She sighed, adding. "And not some fantasy of me. But when it comes to not even considering how your actions hurt your daughter, did she really think that would compare to trying to have my dad murdered!? How stuck in your own head can you be?"

"That's... almost impressively awful," Crymini supported. "Especially since you clearly love him."

"I do!" Octavia felt the need to jump to confirm that. It was too easy to just be angry. "And I'm scared for him! I hear a noise or see a strange shadow, and I immediately fear she's sent another assassin."

Congratulations, mother. This time you hurt me worse than you hurt him. Not that you care.

The other teen's expression changed to worry. "Wow... I know how that feels."

Seriously? Octavia highly doubted it. And she had no desire for fake empathy.

But the puppy girl was serious. "I mean, I lived in the Doomsday District. Plenty of nights spent curled in some hole trying to sleep while trying to stay alert for the sound or movement that meant one of the gangs contesting the area that week had stumbled across my hiding spot. Not the same as worrying about someone out to kill your dad, but I know that fear."

Octavia was quiet for a moment. This Crymini girl was practically a stranger, yet Octavia was unloading all this baggage on the girl. But then, Crymini had literally invited it. And she was listening. It was... words escaped her. It hurt to think about how long she had wanted someone who would just listen.

Crymini barked a laugh. "Shit, you hang around here long and one of the moms will try to set you up with a Heavenly therapist."

Octavia blinked. "I seriously doubt a psychiatrist in Heaven is going to come to Hell to help a Goetia demon with family issues."

"You don't know this place," Crymini asserted, leaning forward.

"Maybe they should offer it to my mum," Octavia retorted, crossing her arms.

Crymini shook her head, smirking. "I don't think even Heaven's therapy can fix stupid."

For a moment, Octavia wanted to be mad at the puppy Sinner for talking about her mother like that. But oh was she ever right. The teen Goetia frowned. "Mum was a narcissist who only cared about herself. Her tantrums, the broken furniture, the way she talked at me, the way she talked about dad... it all became background noise. The ugly soundtrack of my life."

Octavia dropped down onto the bed next to Crymini. "And I was stuck in it because dad thought staying together with mum would give me a normal life. Like any of that wasn't just terrible."

Beside her, the puppy teen scoffed, "What reality does your father live in? Can we visit? Sounds nicer than this one."

Octavia laughed. She couldn't help it. Hearing something she had felt for so long said aloud by someone else was such a relief. It was like one of the Powers had come up just to tell her that her feelings were valid. That she didn't have to berate herself for feeling that way. "I know, right!?"

"At least dad actually loves me. I've never been just a burden to him," Octavia told the puppy girl. "At the end of the divorce, I was allowed to choose which of my parents I live with until my next birthday. The choice wasn't hard."

Octavia curled up in a sitting position on the bed. "Dad cheated on mom. Then divorced her. And until the divorce, that's all I saw." With a wry tone and a roll of her eyes, she noted, "Communication is not dad's strong suit."

"But everything came out in the divorce, and it was all awful. Mom and dad were forced into their marriage specifically to have me. I was a precautionary heir. My parents hated each other, and had since before I was born. Neither wanted to be forced to have a child. Dad wasn't even straight! ... or, you know, bisexual."

"And if that wasn't bad enough, dad was practically forcing the imp he fancied into staying in their relationship by making it a trade for using his Grimoire. Which, aside from being messed up, was breaking a pretty major law! Mother tried to use that against dad in the divorce, only for him to accuse her back of attempted assassination. And, in a moment of anger, she admitted to it!"

Crymini's eyes were wide. "Dankass fuckshit."

Octavia nodded. She would not have used those words - if they even were legitimate words - but agreed with the sentiment entirely. "The whole thing was such a disaster that Paimon, my grandfather, stepped in to keep them both out of prison or worse. Although he did so just to keep the family from being completely disgraced because he never really gave a shit about any of us. He's the one that forced the marriage to happen in the first place."

Her tone dropped. "And now he's forcing me into the same thing."

"He's the one I should be mad at," Octavia said firmly. Ruefully. "Instead, I'm mad at the parent who actually loves me for not shielding me." How much of a monster does that make me?

"That's a pretty big fuck-up," Crymini responded. "As long as you don't forget he loves you, I say be fucking furious."

"Would you if it was your dad?" Octavia asked.

Crymini was silent. Octavia could tell she was actually thinking about the question.

"I don't know what my birth father was like," the Sinner puppy said. "For all I know, he abused my birth mother. Or abandoned us. Maybe he knocked her up and dumped her. Or even raped her."

"But I decided a long time ago to give him the best benefit of the doubt that I could: that my birth mother never even told him she was pregnant. That everything she did was on her own. That way, I had only one parent who didn't want me, not two."

Octavia stared at her. For a situation so drastically different, she could understand that far too deeply.

Crymini pulled her knees up to her chest. "I was found and put into the foster system. Bounced around foster homes overcrowded with kids and run by people in it for the paychecks. Fair training for the DD, really."

"Nobody wanted me," Crymini said, her voice growing wet. "So I was never adopted. I just... existed as someone's burden until I was eighteen and aged out of the system. Then I got tossed to the street."

Octavia's voice was almost a whisper. "How did you survive?"

Crymini barked bitter laughter. "I didn't!"

Octavia stared at Crymini. This Sinner Demon. This mirror darkly. Her own feelings of being a burden welled up, finding echo in the girl next her. Feelings of existing. Of her eighteenth being the final chime of a doom clock. Tears flooded her eyes and she couldn't stop them.

Octavia surged forward and hugged Crymini tightly, crying. Crymini stiffened. Then broke. Crying with her.

Week Six, Day Two - Fair Trade Cafe, Sloth, evening:

Sera conjured up a viewing orb. It was much smaller than the one Adam had summoned in the Heavenly court hearing. And this one was being used to share Sera's perfect memory. The scene that first appeared in it horrified Charlie.

In the orb, she saw her father in his former Heavenly glory, draped in Heavenly raiments, cringing and kneeling, surrounded by spears. Those spears were held by dark silhouettes with the halos of Elders. Their bodies practically black shadows etched with angelic light. An image her dad had alluded to before in a song, now brought to stark reality before her.

Her heart broke and her blood boiled at the sight. To see her father treated like that!

He broke the world. I wanted to see what he'd do for an encore.

One of those figures was Azrael. She looked between Them, trying to figure out which one. But it was who she didn't see that surprised her. There were no women present in that moment of judgement. Her mother was not there. And even though this was through Sera's eyes, she seemed removed from it.

Before she could ask, the scene shifted as Sera honed in on the memory she was trying to share. What replaced it was a gloriously beautiful day in what she first assumed was one of Heaven's botanical gardens. But it was far less orderly than any of those she had seen. And the sky visible through the trees was a particularly pure shade of light blue.

Charlie stared into the orb and gasped as the memory focused on her mother standing naked in the Garden. She looked upwards towards the source of the memory and smiled, holding up her hands. There was a small, furry fruit cupped within them.

"Hello Sera," Lilith said, smiling and holding up the fruit. "Do we have a name for these?"

Charlie could not see Sera, but she heard her sister-in-law's voice as the Seraphim Elder took a moment to answer her question. "I believe Adam has named them These Hairy Nuts."

Lilith looked like she had died a little inside. "That is a horrible name. From now on, this fruit shall be named the kiwi," Lilith announced. With a fond smile, she added, "Like Lucifer's funny bird."

"I will make the change," Sera said, her tone both affectionate and patient, but Charlie could hear the stress even before the wall of pretense crumbled, and the Seraphim spoke in a rush. "Lilith, you need to say goodbye to Lucifer."

Charlie felt a cold wind blow through her insides.

"No." Lilith's answer was final.

Or at least she meant it to be. But the Seraphim did not accept it. Instead, Charlie watched as Sera reached out a hand and summoned an orb of light. The center cleared, and for the first time, Lilith beheld the Elders. They were surrounding Lucifer. Pointing weapons at him. There was shouting. It was the scene Sera's memory had first locked onto, now in motion.

Sera had seemed removed from the scene because she was. Sera wasn't even there. She had witnessed it through a viewing orb, just like Charlie and Heaven's Court had watched Angel Dust at Consent.

Lilith's hands found her mouth as she cried out in dismay.

"This is happening right now," Sera told her. "But these arguments are a formality. The Elders Above have already made their decision. Lucifer will be cast into the Pit created by his reckless actions."

Lilith's dismay caught fire, burning into anger. "You mean our actions!" she challenged the angel who had Created her. "And if this is happening now, why are you not there defending him!?"

"Because I am not allowed. I am not an Elder Above. I lost my hope to be one. I cannot attend the presence of the Throne of God. It is a miracle They have allowed me even this!" Sera said. Charlie immediately suspected the Elders Above did so more out of warning than consideration.

Sera sighed heavily. "Even if I could," Sera said bluntly, "His actions have no defense."

Charlie schooled her feelings.

Then Sera's voice softened. "And because I am here to get you." She reached out her hand. "I know you love him. I plead that he not be cast down before you have a chance to say goodbye. But we should not test Their patience."

Lilith clearly did not care about Their patience. She stared at the images in the orb, eyes burning as she watched Them abuse the angel she loved. In a formality of false respect. She blinked and there were tears.

"It was our mistake! Together!" Lilith raged. "Why is he being blamed?! Why am I not there!?"

Did any of Them even give her a thought?

Sera looked away, her tone sounding wounded. "One of the Elders suggested you could bear witness against Lucifer, but..."

Lilith cut her off. "They wanted me to do WHAT!? They wanted me to blame him?!"

In the orb, Lucifer stopped shouting and just crumpled to his knees. The sight clearly struck Lilith to the core of her soul like a poison, and Charlie's still-human mother began to laugh. All the anger and pain she was feeling couldn't be contained.

"Oh you should let me speak. I have a lot to tell Them." Lilith reached out for Sera's hand.

Sera shook her head. "Once I bring you, there will only be enough time for you to say your goodbye."

Lilith stopped. Her rage suddenly shifting cold and hard. "How did you make sure they would even give me that time?"

Sera let out a breath. "Because I will be the one to cast him down. I prayed for permission to do the final deed. They granted it. This was the only way I could be sure you could see him again."

Lilith stared at the angel who Created her. Who was here instead of up there shielding the one she loved more than anything. Who had personally arranged to throw Lucifer into the Pit to be sure she had time to talk about kiwis. Charlie saw hatred in her mother's expression. Lilith strode towards the Seraphim, grabbing her raiment in fists.

Sera gazed down at Charlie's naked, human mother and her very mortal anger.

But Lilith was not ruled by her emotions. As Lilith's eyes locked on Sera's, Charlie could see that her mother understood. Sera was here because the seraphim cared about her. Sera was taking pains to make sure Lilith didn't lose the angel she loved without seeing him again. And Sera would allow Lilith to claw at her and beat at her with all her pain and rage if that is what it took. This incredibly powerful being would stand there and be a target if that is what Lilith needed.

But that was not what Lilith needed. And she had no intention of losing Lucifer at all.

"Cast me down too."

Sera recoiled, dragging Lilith with her as she stepped back. "No."

Lilith repeated. "Cast me into the Pit with him."

"Lilith! He is an angel who disobeyed. His recklessness..."

"Our recklessness," Lilith corrected.

"He tricked you!" Sera suggested.

"No, he did not."

"Like he seduced you," Sera insisted.

Lilith would not even dignify that with a retort. Just a glare.

"You are mortal. You can be forgiven," Sera continued. "If you Fall with him, you will never see Heaven. There is no redemption down there. Do not let him take this from you. I will not let him take Heaven from you!"

"The only ones taking anything from me is Them," Lilith cried out, pointing at the orb. "The only thing in all of Creation that I care about is him! Please, Sera!..."

"...I'm begging you..." Lilith pleaded, her anger collapsing as her tears burned wetly.

"Lilith," Sera's voice trembled in pain and sorrow of her own. "Don't ask me to do this. Don't let him..." But she stopped herself before blaming Charlie's father for her mother's choice. Instead, Sera just repeated, "Don't ask me to do this."

But Lilith had made her choice.

"...cast me down too."

The viewing orb imploded.

Charlie let out a cry. The few other cafe patrons looked up briefly.

Charlie sat in silence. Across from the fallen seraphim who, on top of everything else, had cast her parents into the Pit! In her mother's case, by her plea. It was a lot to take in. She wanted to hate Sera for this. Like Sera had clearly wanted to hate her father for her mother's request. Like Sera, Charlie knew it would be wrong. Still, it was a while before she could look Sera in the eyes.

Sera stared back at Charlie across the table. Her eyes were wet. "I have been keeping this a secret at your mother's request. But not from you," Sera told her. "Your father must never know."

Blinking back tears of her own, Charlie understood. Lucifer suffered depression. Her father would blame himself for this and everything that followed. The Fall broke him. This would destroy him. Her mother kept this from her father to save him. And Sera helped.

Just like her father let Charlie believe he had signed off on the Exterminations rather than harm her memories of her mother.

We're all just doing the best we can. Charlie remembered Vaggie's words to Emily. I absolutely trust your heart. Please forgive me for wanting to protect it.

Charlie reached across the table and took Sera's hand. "Thank you," she told her sister-in-law. "Thank you for showing me this. Thank you for letting mom be with dad. I... I can't imagine how much it hurt to do that."

Sera was staring at her. Tears broke loose from her eyes. "Thank you for not hating him for it," Charlie said. "And thank you for helping mom protect dad."

"I was wrong even then," Sera replied. "There is redemption here. Thank you for showing me."

Week Six, Day Two - Non-Euclidean, Greed, late evening:

Lucifer leaned back. "Frederick, what are you doing?"

They had been at the bar for hours. The band had changed. Hounds of Tindalos were taking up a corner booth, throwing themselves a little party. On stage was a Goetia woman whose voice held all the charm of a swarm of cicadas. Knowing Frederick, this was to his friend's tastes.

"I've put my son in a crucible," Frederick told him. "He'll either rise above it or embrace the fire. Or he will burn."

Ah. He should have expected that. "So it is a test."

Frederick sighed and turned fully to Lucifer. "Look at your daughter, Luci. Look at all she is doing. Seviathan is doing nothing."

Lucifer touched his own arm where Charlie had wrapped hers as he led her down the aisle. He thought of the Hazbin Hotel and everything Charlie was accomplishing. Two Sinners redeemed. Open friendship with Heaven. She had done more in nine months than he had in nine millenia.

"I have warned him and warned him," Frederick continued. "Now the Final Game is here, Lucifer. There is simply no longer any time for him to waste."

The Goetia went into a trilling chorus. Frederick stopped to listen. Allowed the sweet poison of nostalgia to tickle the back of his mind. Lucifer knew that look. Freddy was missing Bethesda. He could relate.

Don't let me be a chain holding you back. As if Lilly had ever held him any way other than up.

Lucifer asked, "And the Goetia girl?"

Freddy looked surprised that Lucifer was concerned for the other party caught up in Frederick's fatherly test. The von Eldritch patriarch shrugged. "We know who the Goetia were made to serve. Which side they will fall on. There could be an advantage with this."

Lucifer wanted to caution his oldest friend not to underestimate a Goetia's own Free Will. But he didn't. Frederick was almost certainly right.

Frederick paused again to listen to the Goetia's song. Lucifer tried to find the charm. But good God, she was horrid. He and Freddy often synced. But when they didn't it was yikes.

After the brief indulgence, his friend admitted, "But ultimately, if Seviathan finds a way to break free of this marriage, I won't mourn the loss. It will be the most proactive decision about his life he'll have made since separating from Charlotte."

Frederick looked at him. "Why, did you have any advice?"

Lucifer let out a sigh. "I'll never tell you how to raise your children, Freddy." I was barely involved in raising my own. "Charlie has never lacked for dream or drive. And the latter she got from her mother. I'd have to learn a thing or two from Charlie about being proactive before I could offer more than a concerned look."

Lucifer reached out, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder. "But I can offer this: no matter how hard you decide you have to push him, don't let him feel like he needs to earn your love. Make sure he knows you love him even if he's a total failure."

"I say that not as a father, but as a total failure."

Lucifer took a breath, his hand dropping to his cane as he looked away. "I took a big step a couple weeks ago. Maybe the biggest I've taken in almost two hundred years. And I wouldn't have been able to do it if I felt my daughters' love was conditional."

"You're finally on Bel's medicine?" Freddy grinned with teeth like gleaming daggers. "Damn time. Proud of you, Luci."

Lucifer started as he felt tentacles snatch his hat away a second before Freddy grabbed him and started rubbing his head painfully with his knuckles. "Took you long enough!"

Lucifer grunted, pushing out of the man's grasp. He scowled, grabbing his hat and squaring it back on his head, his hair a mess.

"And your advice is heard," Frederick told him in a somber tone.

"Thanks," Lucifer said. For the support. Not the noogie.

Frederick seemed to struggle internally for a moment. Then let out a long sigh of his own. "As Seviathan himself is fond of saying: the Powers Below don't grok Free Will." He turned back to his glass, now empty. "That boy better learn to do something with his. Fast."

Week Six, Day Two - The Slaughtering Hole, Wrath, late evening:

The Badlands appeared ablaze in the harsh light of the dying day. On the horizon, a fire twister left a burning swath of pain in its wake. A rugged dirt road carved its way across unforgiving ground, leading to a run-down building bearing the name The Slaughtering Hole.

The door opened, letting in the hot wind and bathing a swath of the bar's interior in the angry orange light of Wrath's evening sky. A silhouette cut the glare. Nobody looked up to see.

The bartender, a burly candlehead demon, continued to wipe the glasses. An action that more polished the grime coating them than cleaned. In a shadowed corner, a jackal hellhound snoozed, feet up on the table. His angelic steel-studded long coat was draped over him like a blanket. In another corner, three imps cursed their luck and each other while playing a game of cards. There was only one patron at the bar. A pretty woman, naked under her red leather trenchcoat and matching wide-brimmed hat. Both garments smelt of drying blood. The reek from the woman herself was much worse. So much so that it had driven away any other customers.

Lilith strode up to the bar and addressed the woman. "Still wearing Eve's corpse, I see."

The woman turned, grinning with glee. "Lillie!" She opened her arms for a hug that she would never receive. And tsked with the sound of grinding charcoal when the Queen of Hell gave her a scathing look in return. "Did you ever stop to think just how much worse you made it for literally everybody because you couldn't handle a little subservience?"

Lilith motioned wordlessly for the bartender to pour her a drink, never taking her eyes off the grinning woman. "I'm not going to engage with your madness."

"No," the abomination wearing Eve agreed. "You leave that for others, don't you? You and Lucifer broke Creation. You broke Adam's wife. And then left him in my care."

Lilith crossed her arms beneath her bosom. "Adam was a narcissist from the moment of his creation."

The abomination's grin spawned grins of its own along her cheeks as she put a hand between her breasts and tilted back her head, boasting, "I made him worse."

Eyes in the walls and ceiling watched them. As the bartender grabbed a mug, he heard a tinkling crack from the bar mirror. A new eye opened in the hairline fracture.

Lilith looked like she had taken a bite of an apple and found it bitter. "You didn't make Adam anything. We all make our own choices. That's the terrible beauty of Free Will."

The not-really-a-woman at the bar laughed. "You really think Free Will is beautiful? After all I've shown you?"

The bartender ignored the eye and fetched a bottle, pouring its contents into the glass.

"You still don't understand it, do you?" Lilith said with derision. "Evil cannot exist in this world without the ability to choose it any more than you can exist here without a vessel. Yet despite inhabiting the woman whose eyes were fully opened, yours remain blind."

At the shadowed corner table, the jackal hellhound stopped feigning sleep. His gaze followed Lilith's as she looked up at the trypophobic pattern of eyes spreading across the walls and ceiling in the nearest corner.

Then what is the point in having so many?

The corpse-thing laughed again. The sound was like a swarm of insects on fire. "Didn't you ever wonder how someone like him could get into Heaven, Lilly?" she asked as the bartender sat Lilith's drink on the counter. Lilith ignored it. "In the many, many eyes of Their Throne, resisting Evil had its reward."

The abomination wearing a trenchcoat made of skinned imps stood to face the Queen of Hell. "I was the cancer at the heart of his family. He spent so many years trying to protect his precious boys from what mommy was becoming. But in the end..."

Roo mockingly sang. "...it didn't really matter."

Lilith scowled at her.

Roo smirked with all her mouths, even the internal ones. "Cain was always a momma's boy."

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel bar, late evening:

Husk watched as Niffty talked at her phone between shots. She was on her third, and Husk planned to cut her off at four. Normally, he would at two, but he felt Niffty needed this.

"Can abominations make Soul Deals?" the tiny woman asked. The phone was laying on the bar counter, set on speaker. He could hear Seviathan on the other end.

"Not really," the younger von Eldritch man said. "We have something like that, but it isn't as nice or clean. I personally have never done it, and really have no desire to."

Niffty scowled unprettily. "Why not?"

Seviathan voice replied, "Helsa does it. A lot." Husk suspected that alone was enough reason.

But Seviathan understood Niffty better than Husk gave him credit for. "I know why you're asking, my little stab wound, but you wouldn't like it," he assured her. "Instead of a nice chain between us, it puts bugs in our blood."

Hold up. Husk's ears shot up.

"Ew! Icky!" Niffty's eye went wide. "Helsa has a lot of bugs in her blood!"

Husk's mind went back to the fight in Imp City. And how Arackniss took Molly's crossbow. "Hey, Seviathan?" he interrupted. "Your abomination version of chains... can they be used to spy on the people you have Contracts with."

"Who am I talking to?"

"Husk. Friend of Niffty's. Bartender."

"Oh, right. The kitty." Seviathan's words drew a grumble from him. "And yes. Among other things, none of which Niffty would enjoy. I'm sorry."

Husk wanted to ask more, but Niffty hung up, grabbing her phone and stomping away.

"Hey," Vanexa called out from the parlor. "Niffty, would you consider giving a bad girl a chance?"

Niffty stopped, staring. "No." Then the little maid shocked Husk by seeming to reconsider. "At this point, I'll take a bad rock. If it's not going to be lame or abusive or let me go."

Husk groaned as Vanexa pulled out a pink sheet of paper. "You got one of these too, right? I'm going to meet with Emberlynn the day after tomorrow. We can go together. Girls day out."

The vixen looked up at him. "If I may have your permission, Master."

Husk pinched the bridge of his nose. He had already said his piece, and this was not a matter he wanted to give even the semblance of a command to. He wanted to say not going to stop you, but that wasn't what Vanexa wanted to hear either. "Take care of her."

Nifty nodded. "Okay!"

Week Six, Day Two - The Slaughtering Hole, Wrath, late evening:

Lilith's drink stood on the bar and continued to be ignored.

"Is it any wonder Adam divorced himself from the ideas of loved ones and family?" Roo taunted.

"He was hardly fit to be a father." The abomination's movements were repulsive, ignoring how joints worked. Her voice was filled with maggots burned to death by volcanic heat. "I wrote that song in every drop of Abel's blood. You're right. He was an amazingly flawed man. But that's what made him so easy to break. And Adam was fun to break."

Lilith rolled her eyes. "Are you really expecting this Sympathy for the Angel sewage to move me?"

Roo brushed that aside. "Not that Eve cared. She wanted replacements. Forced herself on him until she got them."

Lilith's eyes widened. "Eve raped Adam?" It was the first thing the abomination said that pierced.

Roo drove the spike in deeper. "All because you couldn't handle being on the bottom."

Lilith's eyes flashed. "Don't paint your shit on me. We both know what I'm talking to."

The abomination looked absolutely flattered. "They call me Roo now! Isn't that fun? I like it." She waved dead Eve's hands like a spookshow attraction. "Rooooooooo." The imp-wearing horror looked at Lilith expectantly.

Lilith frowned. "I'm not calling you that. You're not a mythological bogeyman. You're an ignored daughter acting out to get your daddy to notice you."

Roo gave an exaggerated frump. "I can be both." She stalked around Lilith. "Comes with that daddy being the cosmic divinity of Madness."

She slipped behind Lilith and reached out, stroking the Queen's hair. "And we know what you are too, don't we? You're Conquest. You always win, right?"

Roo leaned close, whispering loudly in Queen Lilith's ear. "How many of your people did Adam slaughter, acting out his little revenge fantasy? Which you just allowed to happen."

Burnt alive insects spilled from her mouth. "Tell me, Lilith, are your people tired of all the winning yet?"

Lilith didn't step away or flinch. Her stance remained coldly solid. Her eyes narrowed. A ghost of a smile haunted her lips.

"What you should be asking me is why I sought you out."

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel bar, late evening:

Alastor had just missed Niffty. He would catch her soon. Instead, he watched Husk pour him a drink. It was a sight he had seen many times before. But this time was different. Neither of them were chained. Neither of them had to be here. If they did not desire to be.

And after hours of introspection, he had come to this conclusion: he did want to help the should-be Horseman and her little band of misfits. Charlie couldn't be rid of him that easily.

As princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I... uh... hereby order that you help with this hotel... so long as you desire.

If nothing else could be said for him, Alastor took his commitments seriously. And besides, he may be free, but he could hardly do what needed to be done alone. And who had better situated themselves to make a difference than those here?

Especially Charlie. After this morning, the role he envisioned for her no longer seemed a flight of fancy. No longer a source of entertainment to see if she could, but a matter of survival to see that she would. She had her Key. He had always known Charlie had potential. All she needed now was the correct guidance.

"So, the Baron is a fucking Elder Above." Husk stoppered the whiskey and slid the glass to the Radio Demon. "When did you discover that?"

"Less than eight years ago," Alastor replied. That was enough. He had been willing to be a servant of the Loa. An angel? Not so much.

"So now what?" Husk asked.

"Now I play my own game," Alastor said, putting on a bigger grin.

Another voice joined the conversation as the anglerfish demon clambered up onto a stool. "Really? Did he cut you completely loose?" Baxter stared at him through the tiny man's thick glasses. "Or are you still his Hand?"

"Baxter," Alastor acknowledged. He had no intention of answering that question. "Here to celebrate my freedom?"

"Alastor," Baxter replied in kind. "And no. Your situation isn't that interesting."

Alastor schooled his reaction but couldn't completely suppress the sound of a radio peaking.

The anglerfish turn to Husk. "I was hoping to induct you into an experiment. I had an idea regarding Emily's ability to break chains. I need you to channel some angelic..."

Husk cut him off. "No."

"You would be helping my research," Baxter insisted, climbing up to stand on the bar itself.

Husk was unmoved. "I don't care." Husk started to put the whiskey away, but hesitated. "I'm cutting back on how much I use that. Only in emergencies until I know I can handle it."

Chalk another win up to Charlie. The addict really was improving. Alastor was impressed.

"But this is more important than an emergency," Baxter insisted. "It's science."

Husk put the whiskey down and stared at it. Then shoved it back into its place. "You know what? Bar's open. I'm going to go find Angel Dust. Either of you fuckers want something, pour it yourselves."

Alastor's eyebrows rose. He watched Husk abandon his familiar post.

Baxter grumbled and started to climb back down.

"We should talk, Baxter my boy," Alastor entreated.

"Why?" Baxter responded coldly.

"Because Death is about to make a move that could remove you from play entirely."

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel kitchen, late evening:

"Normally, Niffty cooks up something fantastic," Crymini was saying. "But she's kinda going through a lot right now. So we're on our own for dinner."

"Niffty... she's the maid?" Octavia said, making sure she had a grasp of the names. Not that she really needed to know. Neither of her parents had learned the names of their staff. And she was only here until Crymini... gave her back the necklace from dad. Which she would wash a lot before wearing again.

But there was a different feel here than at home. And the fact her new friend knew everyone here by name, even the maid, made Octavia feel awkward not making the effort. And wonder if maybe she should have before.

"Sorry," a voice said from inside a cupboard. Crymini walked over to it and opened it to find the hotel maid curled up inside along with the canned goods. Octavia could tell she'd been crying.

Crymini looked up at her, ears pasting back. "Hey, Niff. Sorry Alastor turned out to be a shitass."

Niffty made a chittering hiss, glowering at the canned firecorn.

Octavia could tell Crymini did not find the shittiness of the man in question to be that much of a reveal. On impulse, the puppy Sinner offered, "Want us to make you dinner tonight?"

Octavia tried to picture her dad, or more insanely her mother, cooking for one of the imps they used to have.

Niffty contemplated that. Then nodded. "Okay."

"Fair warning," Crymini cautioned. "I learned all my cooking skills in the DD."

Niffty made a face.

Octavia's stomach rumbled. She looked through the rows of canned goods. "I... don't suppose you have any rats, do you?"

Niffty perked at that. "Yes!" She hopped out of the cupboard. "I'll show you. But don't eat the ones in formaldehyde. They're getting married."

Octavia looked to Crymini. The puppy just nodded like that was normal. Then began pulling out cans, assessing them. "All of this can kinda mix together, right?"

"Couldn't be worse than my dad's cooking," Octavia replied. Ever since he lost practically the entire staff to her mother, there had been a lot of nights where they ordered in.

She watched Crymini slip her earbuds into her ears and tune out reality around her. The teenage owl immediately vibed with that. She turned to follow Niffty as Crymini started grabbing pans.

Niffty lead Octavia to a floor-to-ceiling cupboard at the back of the kitchen. She opened it, letting out a stench that caused Octavia's mind to flash to the attack this morning. She stumbled back, hands raised and glowing with cosmic black energy, as her mind conjured the nightmare abomination leaping out of the cupboard at her.

"They'd last longer, but Vaggie said I couldn't keep dead rats in the fridge." Niffty explained as Octavia lowered her hands, getting her breathing under control.

Inside were rows of dead rats hung by their tails, jars of dead bugs and a scattering of more on the shelves around the jars of rats preserved in strange liquids. In the back hung a mosaic of parts of demons. Including a bit of jawbone, some moth fur and several angel feathers.

There was also a little nest. The tiny woman slept in here sometimes.

Ohhhhkay. "You should have the ones you want to keep taxidermied," Octavia said. "I know where you can buy a great kit for it."

Assuming I'm not banned. Please don't let me be banned. She had checked her phone a few times this evening just to see if she had a message from the proprietor.

"Ohh! That's a great idea!" Niffty pulled two rats from their hooks. "These are the freshest. I caught them this morning."

Week Six, Day Two - The Slaughtering Hole, Wrath, late evening:

There was a thump as feet hit the floor. Roo spun as Anubis stood from the back table, casually slinging his studded long coat back on. The light from the bar caught the metal Eye of Horus embedded over one eye.

Roo spun back, glaring at Lilith accusingly. "You brought him here?!"

Lilith stared at the abomination, radiating cold authority. She was Conquest. She was the Queen of Hell. The thing wearing the corpse of Adam's second wife was trespassing on her domain.

"YOU BITCH!"

The smile on Lilith's face never grew beyond the faintest ghost.

"Thank you, Lilith," Anubis rumbled. "It's hidden Itself from angels for far too long. Now I can finish what I started."

Roo shook her head, cackling as she shifted into an unnatural stance. "There's nothing here you can kill, Azzie. Your Flood made sure of that."

"True," Lilith stated. "But you can't exist outside the Deep without a Vessel. And Azrael is very good at dissolving corpses. Ask Sera."

"Please, Anubis while in this form," the jackal hellhound corrected. He turned to the abomination. His muzzle cracked a smile. "Time to send you home."

Roo began to laugh in earnest. "Oh ho ho! Good play! But I've got one of my own."

Before either Lilith or Anubis could react, Roo flung herself across the bar and embraced the hellhound. Mouths on her arms and hands and neck opened their dagger teeth and pierced the long coat's leather, sinking into flesh and fur.

"A little gift from my boy Victor," she rasped gleefully. "New and improved Roo edition."

Anubis grunted, not quite a scream, and tore her away, breaking many teeth. He held her aloft in one hand.

"You know what they say, Azzie," Roo hissed in victorious malevolence. "Through strange eons, even Death may die."

A splash of pale angelic light washed over Anubis like a passing waterwall. Azrael stood in the bar in Hell, his halo glowing with the pale light of Death. He let the abomination see him. But only for a moment before Azrael dissolved Eve's corpse, consigning even the dust of it to oblivion.

Lilith watched.

"Are you going to drink that?" Azrael asked, pointing to the untouched glass of alcohol on the bar counter. Lilith waved a hand, welcoming him to it.

Azrael walked to the bar, looking over it as he took the glass. The bartender lay collapsed behind the counter. He would be dead, but the Angel of Death did not allow it. Just like the trio of imps laying limp across their poker game. Killing hellborn was murder, after all. And that was not what he had made the trip for tonight.

Azrael downed the alcohol, marveling at how truly horrible it was. As he set the glass down, a thin trail of gold ran out of his sleeve and down his wrist.

"Is that something to be concerned about?" Lilith asked pointedly.

"It will be healed within the hour," Azrael dismissed, even as a drop fell from his wrist to the counter. He reached over and took the barkeeper's rag, using it to clean the drop. It would be lethal for a demon to touch. "If there was anything more to the bite than teeth, it died on contact. There is nothing more."

Says the Elder Above. Whom Roo hid herself from while she danced openly in Hell.

But Lilith hid that thought. This was her play, after all.

Azrael pocketed the rag so it wouldn't fall into other hands. Then, with a wash of pale energy, Lilith was in the bar with Anubis again.

The imps at the table breathed, comatose but alive. A feeble sound came from behind the bar.

Lilith watched Anubis stride out of the bar. Conquest wore a grim smile.

Week Six, Day Two - Angel Dust's Bedroom, late evening:

Husk hadn't seen Angel for a few hours. Given that he wasn't in the parlor or at the bar, his bedroom was the first place Husk looked for him. If he hadn't found him there, the next place to look would have been the hot tub room. Husk had knocked, and the door had opened immediately. Not by anyone inside, but by the approval of Keekee.

After everything this morning, Angel Dust had a lot to talk through with Molly. So it didn't surprise Husk to find the two of them together. He found the spider twins sitting on Angel Dust's bed, wrapped in bathrobes, painting each other's nails. The bathrobes didn't surprise him. He would have wanted to wash Greed off too. In fact, nothing about this surprised him.

Angel Dust quickly shooed away the polish brush and got up, smiling at the sight of Husk. Molly looked between Husk and her brother and barely stifled a happy squeak. She capped the nail polish and stuffed it into her cleavage.

"I was hoping you'd come by and visit," Angel Dust announced. "I've been doing some thinking."

Husk's ears perked. His heart braced. There was no way Angel Dust was going to want to take a step back now that Husk had committed to something more than just being friends. His fear was that Angel would want to move forward faster than Husk was ready for.

Molly scooted off the bed. "I'll give you two some time alone."

Angel Dust surprised both of them by holding up a hand, stopping her. "No, Molly. Please stay."

Husk raised an eyebrow. Molly stopped, looking equally curious.

"You said you were willing to pursue friends with benefits. And I'm all for that," Angel Dust said happily. "But there is no reason to rush things. Not now that we know where we're going."

His smile became a smirk as two of his hands took Husk's own. "But I sure as Hell ain't gonna pass up the chance to show my hero how thankful I am."

Husk had less than half a dozen ideas of where this was going.. And he wasn't sure he was quite ready for any of them. With Molly here?

"Or to touch you," Angel Dust grinned. He was clearly playing now. And not just with him. "And Molly has promised to teach me massage."

"Oh!" Molly perked. Her expression of relief and happiness told Husk that Angel had her going just as much as him. "Yes!"

"Both of you," Molly encouraged, "To the bed!"

Week Six, Day Two - Crymini's bedroom, night:

"You can call me Via," Octavia offered.

Crymini nodded. "You can call me Crym," she offered in return.

Crymini and Octavia laid on her bed, their phones and earbuds laying between them. They'd spent the hours after her cooking disaster joking about it. Then sharing music. Octavia knew some vicious bands from the other Rings. But the owl had never heard anything from the Living World, so they both had something to share.

The last song had reminded them of the bleak shit she was going through.

"What if you just say no? Tell them to fuck off."

"It's a Contract," Octavia said heavily. Crymini's ears flattened. She knew the implication. Anyone living around Overlords would. "It can be compelled. If it was that easy, my parents would have refused."

"And your grandfather can do that to you?" Cymini barked, appalled. "Sinners have to sign their own souls away. Nobody can do it for them!"

Octavia sighed, "It's not the same with Goetia. We can be summoned and bound by others."

Crymini remembered Charlie's distress at having bound Stolas nonconsensually to help Alastor.

"As the patriarch of the Goetia, Paimon has the power to forge marriage Contracts for us. He has for ages." Octavia looked aside. "Unless I can find some miracle political leverage to have the Contract annulled, I'm stuck with this Seviathan guy for the rest of my life."

Crymini stopped. "Wait, Seviathan!?" Crymini sat up abruptly. "von Eldritch? I know that guy!"

Octavia's brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, staring at her. Crymini couldn't blame the girl for being suspicious. The new friend she met at the wedding just happens to know the guy she's forcibly betrothed to? That was a fucking parade of red flags.

"Well, kinda," Crymini explained. "Helped stop him from dosing a girl with Love Potion and setting her up with the Pimp Overlord."

Octavia's eyes widened. The goth teen sat up, her demeanor shifting from suspicion to alarm.

Crymini nodded. But tried to mitigate. "To be fair to him, his father and sister are probably the two most horrible monsters I've ever met." Including the Roo snatch. "So the fact he actually tries to be a decent person shrieks fighting the void, even when he doesn't manage it."

Octavia's eyes shifted as she processed that.

Crymini added, "He's the only fucker to get himself banned from the Hazbin Hotel."

"Really?" Octavia asked. "I guess I live here now."

Crymini keyed up another song. "Got something to take your mind off the bleak. Best song humans ever made. Alpha vicious."

Octavia turned to her, curious.

Crymini grinned, offering Via her earbuds. "It's called Na Na Na."

Week Six, Day Two - Vees Tower, night:

Velvette stroked her fingers over the web of scars on Lute's back. She couldn't see them. They were barely visible when the lights were on. But she knew they were there. She leaned close, pressing her lips to the beautiful angel's back, kissing between her wings. Lute arched gently at the touch, shifting on the sheets.

As Velvette drew back, Lute turned, reaching out with her hand to caress down Velvette's neck. Over her shoulder. There was a shudder from the woman as Lute's fingers brushed across the joint. Apprehension? If so, Lute couldn't fathom why. They were beautiful. Velvette's joints were inhuman, sure, but who was human? Who would really want to be?

They were better than human.

Lute leaned forward and kissed Velvette between her bare breasts, drinking in the feel and taste of her skin. She knew now. Velvette was more than just attractive. This woman whose mind she respected and company she enjoyed also possessed a body that was desirable. And no amount of indoctrination or personal baggage would ever be able to blind her to that truth again.

She had expected as much. And she had been right. Like lightning striking twice.

Week Six, Day Two - Angel Dust's Bedroom, night:

"She took Crymini's fucking blood?" Anthony gasped. "And Crym didn't tell us?!"

Next to him, Molly looked horrified.

"Yeah," Husk nodded.

"We've got a cure for it, though! We're safe, right?" Molly asked. This was not a nightmare she ever wanted to revisit.

Husk shrugged, which was alarming, but then did his best to mollify her. "It's been over a month. Which honestly doesn't mean anything. But given how nasty Victor's plague was supposed to be, if the witch had done something with it already, I'd expect we'd know." He added, "And given that I threw her into a Wrathian volcano, there's a fair chance she hasn't survived to try."

Her brother nodded, jumping on that. "So... we just have to keep an eye out. If she shows again, we can freak out. But until then, we'll be cautiously optimistic. Right Molls?"

Molly took a shuddering breath and put on a smile, pushing down images of everyone she knew in Heaven dying of a superplague. She nodded to her brother. "Right."

Anthony gave her an earnest look. "When you go back up, tell Sir Pentious about this first thing. Make sure he knows to take sensible precautions, but that this is probably not a problem. We don't want to start a panic in Heaven over nothing."

After a moment, Husk spoke again, his voice heavy. "There's one more thing."

Husk looked to Anthony. "You might be getting a more damaged me than you're used to," He confessed. "I might be addicted to using Sera's power. It's manageable. But today? I gave in to what I would definitely call a craving."

Molly looked between Husk and Anthony. The idea of Sera's power being addictive shocked her. But she knew people who had suffered addictions during her time at the Kirkbride. She had an idea of what this could mean both for Husk and those he loved.

"Hey," Anthony said, wrapping his arms around Husk. After the kiss he definitely had hugging rights. "I've been there. Ain't nothing new." He looked at her. "And we've got the fam. Our real family. Everyone's here to help. Ain't that right, Molls?"

Molly nodded firmly. She understood Anthony said that as much to say to her You're part of my new family too! as to remind Husk how many people were there for him. This one was better, and she was happy to be part of it.

"No way this beats us."

Week Six, Day Two - Hazbin Hotel parlor, night:

Crymini lifted her feet as Niffty vacuumed where the coffee table used to be. She had come out to see if she could talk Niffty into lifting her afterlife-long ban from the kitchen.

Niffty agreed in exchange for a promise to buy her a taxidermy set.

There is no way this wouldn't have consequences. Via offered to help show Niffty how to use it. Crymini couldn't wait to see what the moms would be coming back to.

Niffty shut off the vacuum. Crymini's ears twitched at the approaching crackle of radio static.

Alastor strode towards them, smiling one of his biggest smiles. "Niffty!" He stretched out his arms, grinning. "Great news! I can take you back!"

Niffty stared. "No. You can't."

Alastor stopped, taken aback. "Now, now. I know you feel hurt. I really should have made it clear that severing our bond could be temporary." He produced his microphone, twirling it casually. "But I simply didn't want to get your hopes up when I would be facing Death."

He stabbed his microphone into the carpet and reached out with his other hand. "But that's done. And now I'm free to take you on again."

Niffty glared. "No!"

Alastor looked more shocked than hurt. "Niffty..."

Niffty stomped. "I'm not just for when it's convenient!"

Alastor blinked, drawing his hand back. "I suppose I deserved that." His body darkened into just a shadow, sinking into the floor then rising up behind the little maid, getting a little gasp. His tone was warm and promising. "It will never..."

A bolt of dark cosmic energy slashed the air between them.

Crymini turned to see Octavia standing across from them, her hands rippling with purple-black magic.

"She. Said. No." Via stepped forward. "How many times does she have to tell you?"

Radio static cut the air. "And you are?"

"Someone who can relate!" Octavia strode up to the radio demon, staring him in the face. "It's her choice if she wants to forgive you or take you back. Not yours. Back off."

Alastor glared at Via dangerously, his smile thin as a knife. Then his eyes shifted to Niffty as the little woman strode up to stand next to Octavia, leveling an equally fierce stare at him.

Alastor's expression faltered. For the first time ever, for the briefest instant, he wasn't smiling. Then he was again. "As you wish." Alastor melted into his shadow and vanished from the room.

"Vicious," Crymini whispered.

Week Six, Day Two - Badlands, Wrath, night:

Vaggie stared at the glowing balls of lava hovering over the volcanic peaks of Wrath, glowing an angry orange against the dark burnt-amber night sky.

What the fuck? That is not how volcanoes work.

But this was Hell. There was no reason for it to follow the rules of Living World geology.

"If that's all it is, it's not so bad, right?" Emily's voice rang out from the open tent behind them. There was genuine relief and happiness in her tone. She wasn't just trying to fool herself. "I don't mind a little demon in me."

Vaggie turned to see Emily slide a hand down Charlie's back to tease the spot where Charlie's tail would come out. Charlie blushed hard, giving their wife a promising look. Vaggie smiled and shook her head. Yes, in the very least, Emily's ever expanding list of kinks included having particular parts of a particular demonic wife inside her.

Does Emily even have to worry? Why would a crack in her halo change her at all? I lost my halo completely, Vaggie had told Sera when they met earlier this evening. I didn't change.

But you did, Sera had told her. I've seen it several times.

Vaggie reached up, feeling her bow. I have a demonic aspect. It comes out when I'm angry. Emily and Charlie once called it fiercely cute.

No Exorcist had ever manifested a demonic aspect until she did. No matter how many decades they had spent Extermination Day in Hell.

Turned out, according to Sera, their halos protected them. They were a bit more than just dog tags. They were a bit of Heaven's Grace, carried with them.

There was a big difference between a little fracture and the whole halo being gone. But then, there was also a big difference between an angel and a seraphim. Sera could only guess at what it would mean for Emily.

Vaggie tugged at her bow, pulling it off for the night. She folded it up, looking across the Badlands to where the RV was parked, over a mile away. Just in case the upcoming Hellquakes actually did cause fissures.

Vaggie turned and crawled into the tent, joining her wives.