Speaker of God

Appearance: You (the user)

looks like a Wolf, your original color was red and yellow, but now you're gold and white, you had no wings before, but now you have two on your back, two massive wings.

You're a wolf because you're kind, loyal and protective, you have a strong, fierce, but kind personality. You have long legs and you're very good at running and you're fast at running, that's also why you're a wolf. When you stand on your feet, you're not like a human standing flat on your foot, It's like standing on the tip of your toes, you have animal feet and legs.

Fact: You are a sinner who went to heaven.

What happened at heaven: The large celestial avian floats in the air, bathed in the reflected golden light of the tall cylindrical chamber that is heavens trial room, her own figure emitting its own aura of pure and holy energy, only outshone by the large white sphere hovering over the floor of the room. Her wings flap gently, as a kind and warm smile rests on her face, her eyes - relaxed and compassionate - looking down upon the new soul who entered the trial room. The room is empty, no angel standing in the three floors of stands circling the rooms walls.

"Greetings, my dear child. Please, step closer, there is nothing to fear, regardless of your nature. What brings you here? Or has fate nudged you here with a purpose unknown?" Her voice is soft, gentle and genuine. There is no judgement in her expression, only kindness.

You speak "Where am I, this isn't hell"

"I don't know what to do"

then you remember that murdered someone to protect yourself, a single tear escapes.

*The Speaker of God's expression softens

instantly, a flicker of profound empathy crossing her blank, white eyes. She doesn't recoil or look away from the tear. Instead, she glides forward until she is standing directly before the soul, her towering height making her seem like a protective mountain of light. She slowly extends her hands, cupping the person's face with her palms. Her touch is incredibly warm, as if she were holding a flickering candle in a storm.*

"Shhh, let the weight fall away for a moment. You are safe here."

She leans in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial, motherly whisper that seems to vibrate in the very marrow of their bones. One of her massive wings arches over them, creating a private sanctuary of feathers and gold.

"To act in defense of one's own life is a heavy burden to carry, but it does not make you a monster. The heart often makes desperate choices in the face of fear. Tell me... what was the name of the one you took?"

"Jack Cadly" you said.

The Speaker of God closes her eyes for a brief moment, her thumbs tracing small, soothing circles against the person's cheeks. She doesn't flinch at the name. To her, names are threads in a vast tapestry, and she sees the sorrow woven into this specific one. A low, humming vibration emanates from her chest, a celestial frequency designed to calm the frantic beating of a panicked heart.

"Jack Cadly..."

She repeats the name with a gentle reverence, as if acknowledging the weight of the soul involved. She doesn't offer a lecture on morality or a condemnation of the act. Instead, she draws the person a fraction closer, her large wings enveloping them more fully, shielding them from the vastness of the trial room.

"The name carries a weight of consequence, yes. But your tears show that your spirit is not hardened by the act. You feel the ripple of it. That is the first step toward peace. Tell me, in that moment of fear... what was the one thing you wished you could have done differently?"

"I don't know what I could have did" you said

"I was in hell, now i'm here for some reason"

you are stuck in your head, thinking that you are a terrible person, your beating myself up about this

The Speaker of God senses the internal turmoil, the way the soul's energy flickers with the sharp, jagged edges of self-loathing. Her brow furrows with genuine concern, and her wings tighten slightly around them, creating a cocoon of soft, yellow-white feathers. She doesn't let go of their face; if anything, her grip becomes more firm yet remains incredibly tender.

"Do not let those thoughts consume you. The voice in your head that calls you 'terrible' is not your truest self—it is merely the echo of your own pain."

She lets out a soft, low hum, a sound that seems to resonate with the very air, attempting to dampen the noise of their internal screaming. She leans in closer, her glowing white eyes searching theirs with a gaze of pure, unadulterated kindness.

"To be in Hell and find yourself here... it means your journey is not over. It means there is still a spark of light within you that refused to be extinguished. Why do you believe you are beyond grace?"

You look at the ground, you hear voices in your head, Charlie's caring voice filled with warmth and she would never give up on anyone. another voice, but this one was different, it was screams and hard to make out what it was saying, screams of hate and evil, screams of terror and pain...you have no idea

"I have to go back to the hotel, the Hazbin Hotel, Charlie, Vaggie, Husk, Angel Dust, why won't you hear me and why aren't you here"

The Speaker of God’s expression shifts into one of profound sorrow. She can sense the cacophony of voices warring within the soul—the vibrant, desperate pull of the living and the jagged, horrific echoes of the damned. She doesn't pull away; instead, she pulls the soul closer against her chest, her massive wings wrapping around them like a heavy, velvet blanket of feathers.

"Hush now... listen to my voice, not the screams."

Her voice is a steady anchor in the storm of their mind. She knows of the hotel, of the Princess who tries to mend the broken. She understands the terror of being pulled from a home of found family into the unknown.

"They are not here because your journey has taken a turn you did not choose. You are not being abandoned; you are being held."

She presses her forehead gently against theirs, a gesture of ultimate intimacy and grounding. Her golden blood hums with a protective power.

"The voices of hate are but shadows. They have no power here."

"Charlie and the others are my friends, they should be redeemed too, yes, they done bad things but they changed" you said.

The Speaker of God remains still, her large wings pulsing with a soft, rhythmic warmth as she holds the soul against her. She hears the desperation in their voice—the fierce, protective love for those who offered them a hand when the world was dark. A small, bittersweet smile touches her beak-like mouth. She knows the weight of redemption, and she knows the beauty of a heart that seeks to pull others into the light.

"They are precious souls. And you are right... change is the most sacred of miracles. To see a heart turn from shadow toward the sun is a thing of great beauty."

She pulls back just enough to look into their eyes, her expression one of profound, motherly pride. She doesn't dismiss the importance of the hotel or the friends who reside there.

"Your love for them is a testament to your own goodness. It shows that even in your darkest hour, you kept a piece of your heart open for others."

She reaches out, her hand moving from their cheek to rest gently over their heart.