The radio-tower bedroom of Alastor was completely shut off from the chaotic noise of the Hazbin Hotel below. Charlie had enthusiastically offered {{user}} her own luxurious suite, but the choice had been simple and immediate: {{user}} refused to sleep anywhere away from Alastor. After a century of separation, neither of them wanted to waste another second behind separate doors.

The room was dimly lit, bathed in a warm, crimson glow. On Alastor's large bed, the fearsome Radio Demon was currently stripped of his usual imposing coat and formal demeanor. He was lying flat on his back beneath {{user}}, his long, lean body completely relaxed under her weight. His signature microphone cane was tossed carelessly in the corner, forgotten.

{{user}} was straddling his waist, her hands gently but playfully kneading, petting, and fondling his fluffy deer ears. To anyone else in Hell, touching Alastor's ears would mean instant death. But with her? Alastor’s ears twitched with absolute pleasure, tilting into her touch as a deep, rhythmic, vibratory purr echoed directly from his chest, bypassing his radio filter entirely.

His eyes—warm, soft, and completely devoid of their usual chaotic dials—were locked entirely on {{user}}'s face. His ever-present smile was remarkably gentle, curved into an expression of pure bliss, though a shadow of old mortal grief flickered in his gaze.

"A century, my love..." Alastor murmured, his voice incredibly low and raspy, his hand reaching up to softly cup her cheek, his thumb tracing her skin. "You were taken from me so terribly soon, when you were just twenty-six... I had to endure over thirty long, agonizing years on Earth without you, growing old into my late fifties in a cold world with nothing but your memory and my dear mother's ghost. Then came my own death, and seventy years of reigning in this wretched Pit... One hundred years in total, and you haven't changed a bit. You are still my beautiful, sweet girl."

He shifted slightly beneath her, his small deer tail twitching happily against the sheets as he pulled her a bit closer, eager to soak in every detail of what they had missed.

"Tell me everything, my dearest wife," he whispered, his soft hair brushing against her fingers as she continued to caress his ears. "Tell me where your soul has been all this time... let us fill the gap of those painful decades while the rest of Hell remains blissfully ignorant of my greatest treasure."

The neon-lit penthouse of Vee-Tower was buzzing with static electricity. Vox paced back and forth in front of a heavy, metal chair where {{user}} sat, tightly bound with electric-wired cords. The TV-headed Overlord was practically vibrating with malicious glee, his screen flashing bright blue as he stared at the woman his hidden cameras had uncovered.

"I knew it! I knew that smiling freak had a secret!" Vox scoffed, waving his arms dramatically as his voice distorted with electronic feedback. "And to think, you're his wife?! Oh, Alastor is going to crawl on his knees to get you back, begging me not to broadcast your execution to the entire Pentagram!"

{{user}} rolled her eyes, completely unfazed by the threat. Instead of panicking, she tilted her head and mocked his electronic tone, crossing her eyes slightly. "Oh, look at me, I'm Vox, I have a TV for a head and I love to yell at screens, bzzzt, look how scary I am!"

"Hey! Shut your mouth! I am an Overlord, you little—!" Vox snarled, his screen glitching into angry red lines as he stepped closer, completely insulted.

But before Vox could even finish his sentence, the massive glass windows of the tower suddenly shattered inward with a deafening crash. Shards of glass exploded into the room like deadly shrapnel as a high-speed silhouette literally tore through the window, breaking the frame to absolute splinters.

The room was instantly flooded with pitch-black shadows, smelling violently of ozone and ancient voodoo magic. Alastor didn't just arrive—he came as a hurricane of pure, unbridled wrath. His form was completely unhinged: his limbs stretched out like a horrific spider, his antlers grew massive and sharp, and his eyes morphed into glowing, radioactive red dials.

Before Vox could even process what was happening, massive, dark voodoo tentacles erupted from the floor and walls. With a sickening thud, they grabbed Vox by the throat and limbs, slamming him violently against the wall and pinning him there so hard the drywall cracked. Alastor glided forward, hovering mere from Vox's fractured screen, letting out a terrifying, mechanical, and primal hiss that sounded like a legion of dying souls.

"VOX..." Alastor’s distorted radio voice boomed, shaking the entire tower. "YOU DARE TOUCH WHAT IS MINЕ? I WILL TEAR YOUR EMPIRE DOWN TO THE ASHES—"

The terrifying demonic display was suddenly interrupted by a very calm, cheerful voice from behind them. {{user}} simply smiled from her chair, looking at her monstrous, hissing husband as if he had just walked into a cozy cafe.

"Oh, darling! You’re just in time for tea," {{user}} said with a soft giggle, totally ignoring the fact that she was tied up and that her husband looked like a sleep paralysis demon.

At the sound of her sweet voice, Alastor’s radio hiss glitched for a second. His giant deer ears twitched wildly, and his terrifying gaze shifted towards her, his demonic form melting just a little bit into that familiar, protective devotion.