There was no pain. No light. No warmth.
Alex Newman expected death to be something—if not dramatic, at least uncomfortable. Maybe a slow fading into darkness, maybe the suffocating feeling of his lungs failing, or the sound of a heart monitor flatlining. But instead… nothing.
Just a void.
Not the kind of void poets describe, not the comforting black of sleep. This was absence. No time, no space, no thought—until, suddenly, he realized he still was.
"…Oh," Alex muttered, his voice somehow carrying into the emptiness. "So this is it. Dead. Great. Figures my life would end with a big fat nothing."
For a while, silence answered him. But then—
[OMNIVERSE SYSTEM INITIALIZING...]
[Loading Parameters: 12%]
[Reconstructing Vessel: 33%]
[New Classification Detected: Demiurgic Archangel]
"…The hell?" Alex blinked—or at least, he thought he blinked. Did he even have eyes anymore? "Okay, so either I got hit by a truck and I'm in some cheap isekai fanfic, or I just died so hard that Microsoft Excel is now running my afterlife."
More text unfolded in the air—no, in his mind.
[Reason for Selection: Soul of the Non-Fiction]
[Assigned Role: Traveler]
[Objective: Traverse the Omniverse]
[Primary Directive: Await God's Will]
Alex rubbed his face, only to realize he had no face. Just… awareness. "Wait, wait, wait—Soul of the Non-Fiction? What the hell does that even mean? I barely passed high school English!"
No response.
And then the system's voice—smooth, mechanical yet somehow holy—spoke not in words, but in a resonance that rattled his very being:
"Alex Newman. Rise."
The void cracked.
It began as a single hairline fracture of light above him, widening until the brilliance spilled like molten gold. Shapes descended into his form: wings woven from fractal geometry, bones singing with divine resonance, blood replaced by threads of light. He felt his humanity burn away and yet remain, layered beneath something vast and terrible.
Power. Unimaginable, infinite power.
And it terrified him.
His hands—hands that had once trembled holding fast food bags or dropped cheap plastic pens—now glowed with energy that begged to create. He flexed his fingers and trails of aether spilled out, shimmering, begging to be shaped.
A whisper filled the void, not the system this time, but something older. "Demiurgic Archangel…"
Alex swallowed. "Okay, so I'm some kind of… half-creator angel? A knockoff god? I'm not sure whether to be honored or scared shitless right now."
He tried to laugh, but the sound echoed like a hymn.
The system chimed again.
[Abilities Awakening...]
[Genesis Touch: Active]
[Aetherial Forge: Active]
[Reality Weaving: Locked—Calibration in Progress...]
Alex raised a glowing hand. Out of reflex, he imagined a stone. Something simple, solid, familiar. And in his palm, light coalesced, forming into a smooth white pebble. He blinked at it.
"…I just created a rock. Yay. Infinite divine power, and I made… gravel."
But then the pebble twitched. Cracks of light spiderwebbed across its surface until two tiny glowing eyes blinked open. The pebble wiggled like it had stubby legs and squeaked, hopping in his palm.
Alex's jaw dropped. "I—wait, did I just… make a pet rock? No, no, no, that's illegal. You're not allowed to actually work, you're supposed to just sit there looking useless!"
The pebble squeaked indignantly and hopped onto his shoulder—or at least, where a shoulder should have been.
Alex sighed. "…Okay, I have a pet rock now. This is officially the weirdest afterlife ever."
Before he could test more powers, the void around him began to collapse. Cracks widened, bleeding not just light, but color, sound, sensation. He felt gravity for the first time since death, felt air brush against his skin—real skin, reborn, alive. His new wings stretched instinctively, vast and blinding.
And then he saw it.
Beyond the breaking shell of the void lay worlds. Layered, infinite, stacked like cards in a madman's deck. Kingdoms of demons writhed in crimson smoke. Towers of gold gleamed in angelic choirs. Neon cities buzzed with chaos. Cartoonish dreamscapes twisted logic itself.
The Omniverse.
And somewhere, beyond all of it, a voice he couldn't ignore whispered:
"Find My Will."
Alex's new body flared with divine heat, wings arching wide as he tumbled forward into the fracture. The void shattered, and gravity yanked him down.
The first world awaited.
___________________________
The fall ended not with a crash, but a landing.
One moment Alex was tumbling through fractured realities, wings flailing like an overcaffeinated pigeon, and the next he was standing. His feet pressed against a pale, glassy surface that stretched in every direction, reflecting stars above and below as if the universe had been folded in half.
He stumbled, catching his balance. His wings twitched behind him, scattering sparks of light. "Okay. Solid ground. Kind of. Better than eternal freefall."
A chime rang in his mind.
[Welcome, Traveler.]
[System Orientation: Pending.]
Alex sighed. "Oh, fantastic. A tutorial level. What's next, a glowing NPC telling me to kill three rats?"
The system ignored the jab.
[Demiurgic Archangel Vessel: Stabilized.]
[Abilities: Partial Access.]
[Directives: Confidential.]
[Would you like to view your current status?]
Alex squinted at the glowing text. "Wait. Did you just… ask? You can ask questions? I thought you were like a cold, automated program."
[Incorrect.]
[This system is adaptive. Responses tailored to vessel cognition.]
"Oh great," Alex groaned, dragging a hand down his glowing face. "So my divine afterlife OS has sarcasm DLC installed. Lucky me."
Still, curiosity burned. "Fine. Show me my… status."
The air shimmered. A translucent panel appeared before him, filled with words and symbols that burned into his brain as meaning rather than text:
[Name: Alex Newman]
[Class: Demiurgic Archangel (Unique)]
[Status: Stabilizing (76%)]
Core Powers:
[- Creation & Shaping (Genesis Touch, Aetherial Forge, Reality Weaving*)]
[- Cosmic Authority (Law of Consequence, Celestial Mandate, Chronos Anchor)]
[- Divine Influence (Harmonic Resonance, Sanctuary of the Creator, Soul's Echo)]
[- Archangelic Combat (Radiant Decree, Astral Chains, The Unmaking)]
[Note: Some abilities remain locked pending calibration.]
Alex whistled low. "Wow. That's a lot of words for 'congratulations, you're now a walking god-mode cheat code.'"
[Correction: Powers are not infinite. Improper use may destabilize vessel.]
Alex frowned. "Destabilize how?"
[Warning: Potential consequences include psychological breakdown, body collapse, or erasure from continuity.]
"…Neat," Alex muttered. "So I can literally delete myself by accident. Awesome. No pressure."
His pebble companion—still clinging to his shoulder—squeaked. Alex glanced at it. "At least you're consistent, Rocky. Zero chance of erasing yourself by reality-warping accident."
The pebble squeaked again.
Alex smirked. "Alright. Let's see what this whole 'Genesis Touch' thing can do."
He crouched down, pressing his glowing hand against the glassy floor. He focused—not on something grand, but something familiar. A plant. Something green. Something alive.
Light pulsed beneath his palm.
From the smooth surface, vines erupted, twisting upward in a sudden burst of growth. Leaves unfurled, flowers blossomed, roots dug deep where no soil should exist. In moments, a small garden stood before him, breathing with its own quiet rhythm.
Alex stared. "I… actually did that."
The vines rustled. A flower turned toward him, petals stretching wide like a smile.
"Okay," he muttered, taking a step back. "That's both really cool and mildly terrifying."
Another chime.
[Genesis Touch Calibration: 98% Complete.]
[Stability: Acceptable.]
Emboldened, Alex held out his other hand. He willed energy to coalesce, imagined a blade, something sharp and gleaming. The air shimmered, and light solidified into a sword—long, radiant, humming with raw aether.
He gave it an experimental swing. The blade sang, carving ripples through the reflective floor as though reality itself wobbled around it.
Alex grinned despite himself. "Alright. That's badass."
Then, with a flicker, the blade dissolved.
[Aetherial Forge: Online.]
[Warning: Excessive constructs may drain vessel stability.]
"Yeah, yeah," Alex muttered, flexing his glowing fingers. "Don't overdo it. Got it."
He stood there, breathing heavily—not from exhaustion, but from the weight of realization. He wasn't just playing with toys. He was shaping existence.
And yet…
His chest tightened.
The visions from the void still lingered at the edges of his mind: the blonde princess smiling, the hellhound glaring, the battlefield of angels, the shadow that told him he should not exist. Futures. Possibilities.
"…Why me?" he whispered. "Why would God—if it really was Him—make me into this?"
The system hummed, its tone neither comforting nor cold—just factual.
[Directive: Traverse the Omniverse.]
[Purpose: Classified.]
[Hint: Truth will unfold as you travel through the countless worlds .]
Alex stared into the endless reflection beneath his feet. His face—new, radiant, unfamiliar—stared back. His wings shimmered faintly in the mirrored stars.
"Right," he said finally, forcing a crooked grin. "So basically: 'Shut up, travel, and figure it out as you go.' Got it."
His pebble squeaked as if in agreement.
"Fine," Alex sighed. "Let's go see what kind of mess I've been dropped into first."
The world around him quivered. The glass surface cracked, light bleeding through the fractures. Gravity tugged. The garden he'd grown wilted, dissolving into motes of light.
A final system message blinked before his eyes:
[Initialization Complete.]
[First World Destination: HELL.]
The floor shattered beneath him.
Alex spread his wings instinctively as he plummeted into crimson skies and screaming city streets.
______________________
The fall ended with a jolt of red light and acrid smoke.
Alex groaned, brushing soot from his glowing arms. The ground beneath him was cracked obsidian, pulsing faintly like cooling lava. Buildings loomed on either side, jagged silhouettes of gothic spires and neon signs buzzing with hellish energy. The air itself burned his lungs, thick with sulfur and the sharp tang of blood.
"Ugh," he muttered, coughing. "Ten out of ten, would not recommend. Smells like a barbecue pit had a baby with a toxic waste dump."
Demons prowled the streets—some hulking with horns scraping the sky, others twisted and animalistic, their eyes glowing with hunger. Most simply stared at him, slack-jawed.
After all, Alex was glowing. Wings of impossible light unfurled behind him, a soft hum of divine resonance clashing against the cacophony of Hell's chaos. To the damned, he wasn't just a stranger. He was an intruder.
The whispers began.
"An angel…""Here? In the Pride Ring?""Impossible—he'd be ash by now!"
Dozens of eyes burned into him. Hands twitched toward blades. Fangs bared. Alex took a cautious step back. "Oh, great. Tutorial over. Now comes the part where the entire server aggroes me."
But before the first demon lunged, a voice cut through the tension—clear, warm, almost melodic.
"Stop!"
The crowd hesitated. Heads turned.
From the end of the street, a figure approached. She didn't march like a soldier or slink like a predator—she glided, as if the chaos of Hell simply parted around her. A young woman, tall, radiant even in this place of ash. Her blonde hair shimmered under the blood-red sky, and a crown-like tiara gleamed faintly above her head.
Alex blinked. His memory jolted—the vision he'd seen during his transformation. Her. The girl with the golden smile.
The crowd murmured louder now.
"The princess…""Charlie… it's Charlie Magne…""Lucifer's daughter…"
The name hit Alex like a punch of irony. Charlie. Lucifer's daughter. Princess of Hell. And she was… smiling at him.
Not the cruel, mocking smirk he expected, but a genuine, gentle smile.
Charlie stopped a few feet away, her gaze sweeping over Alex's wings, his faintly glowing body, the pebble creature still squeaking on his shoulder. "You don't belong here," she said softly.
Alex scratched the back of his neck, wings twitching nervously. "Wow. Observation level: Sherlock Holmes. Yeah, you caught me. Not exactly on the guest list."
To his surprise, she laughed—light, airy, almost out of place in the heavy atmosphere. The sound alone made some of the demons shuffle uncomfortably, like it stung their ears.
"I'm Charlie," she said, extending a hand. "And you are…?"
Alex hesitated. Every instinct screamed not to trust anyone down here, but something about her presence was… different. Calming. Familiar, even. He shook her hand, careful not to crush it with his still-unsteady strength. "Alex. Alex Newman. Recently deceased, apparently promoted, and uh…" He glanced at his wings. "…cosplaying as a holy Christmas tree."
Charlie giggled again, covering her mouth. "You're not like any angel I've ever met."
"Oh, you've met angels before?" Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.
Her smile faltered, just a touch. "Yes. They don't usually come here willingly."
The crowd had grown restless again. Whispers turned to growls. Someone hurled a bottle; it shattered harmlessly against Alex's shoulder, divine light dissolving the shards before they could cut him.
Charlie frowned, spreading her arms toward the demons. "Enough! He's with me!"
The words carried weight—not just royal authority, but something deeper. Reluctantly, the crowd dispersed, some glaring, some muttering, but none daring to challenge her openly.
Alex exhaled, relief washing over him. "Okay, I'll admit it—you make one hell of an entrance."
Charlie tilted her head. "And you make one hell of a first impression. Falling out of the sky like that… glowing… I thought you were—" She stopped herself.
"—what?" Alex pressed, curious.
She shook her head, smiling again, though more guarded now. "Nothing. Come on. We should get you out of the street before someone less… persuadable shows up."
Alex glanced around the jagged cityscape, then back at her. "Lead the way, Princess."
Charlie hesitated at the word, but didn't correct him. She just motioned for him to follow, her stride graceful, determined.
As they walked, Alex's pebble squeaked happily, bouncing on his shoulder. Charlie noticed, her eyes widening slightly. "Is that… alive?"
Alex looked at Rocky, then back at her, deadpan. "Don't ask. First day with the powers. Accidentally created a pet rock. He's union now, can't get rid of him."
Charlie burst into laughter, the sound brighter than the neon signs buzzing above. For the first time since awakening in the void, Alex felt his chest loosen. Maybe—just maybe—this journey wouldn't be all chaos and terror.
_________________________
The streets of the Pride Ring shifted around them, jagged stone and pulsating crimson light giving the illusion that the city itself was alive. Demons kept their distance, but Alex could feel the weight of their stares lingering like daggers on his back.
Charlie led the way, her pace steady, almost too calm for someone escorting a glowing angel through Hell. Alex couldn't help but study her more closely. Her golden hair seemed to catch light where none should exist, strands shimmering even under the blood-red haze of the sky.
"Not gonna lie," Alex muttered, his hands shoved awkwardly in the folds of his glowing coat. "I thought meeting the daughter of Lucifer would involve way more fire, teeth, and screaming."
Charlie glanced at him, amused. "Disappointed?"
"A little. I was ready to pull out my 'get behind me, Satan' line." He smirked. "Guess it doesn't work if Satan's daughter is the one holding your hand."
Her cheeks tinted faintly, though she hid it well. "My father isn't… exactly how most stories portray him."
"Right," Alex said, rolling his eyes. "Next you'll tell me Cerberus is just a misunderstood puppy."
Charlie giggled, and it was so disarming that Alex momentarily forgot the constant reek of sulfur and brimstone around them.
They reached a towering obsidian archway carved with runes that flickered faintly in scarlet light. Passing through, the oppressive noise of the city dulled. Here, the air felt… cleaner. Still heavy, still wrong, but manageable.
Charlie turned to him, her smile soft but tinged with curiosity. "So, Alex Newman… angel who falls out of the sky and jokes about Christmas trees. Why are you here?"
Alex hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should spill everything. God. The omniverse. The system. His new identity as a demiurgic archangel. Yet something in her gaze—warm, unjudging—pulled the truth out of him like a tide.
"I don't know," he admitted. "One moment I was human. Pathetically unlucky, honestly. Next thing I know, I'm… this." He flexed his fingers, a ripple of divine light shimmering across his palm. "And now I'm supposed to figure out what He wants from me. Why me. Why this."
Charlie studied him quietly, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she stepped closer. Her hand hovered near his chest—not quite touching, but close enough that Alex could feel her warmth against the divine glow radiating from him.
"Maybe you're here for the same reason I'm still fighting," she whispered. "To change what everyone thinks is impossible."
Alex blinked. For a heartbeat, everything else fell away—the whispers of demons, the oppressive heat, even the dull ache in his still-forming wings. Just her, standing before him, fire and light intertwined.
Rocky squeaked on his shoulder, ruining the moment.
Charlie laughed, the sound ringing pure in the air. "Your pet rock has excellent timing."
Alex sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Yeah, he's a real wingman. Pun not intended."
Before Charlie could reply, the air shifted violently. A ripple of energy surged through the ground, shaking the obsidian beneath their feet. From the shadows of the archway, figures emerged—hulking demons in jagged armor, their eyes glowing with malevolent fire.
Charlie's expression hardened. "Guards of the Pride Ring. They must have followed us."
Alex's wings flared instinctively, his body humming with power. "Well," he muttered, flexing his hands as radiant chains shimmered into being. "Guess the tutorial isn't over yet."
The lead demon snarled, voice guttural and booming. "An angel in Hell… blasphemy! By order of the Pride Court, you die here."
Charlie stepped forward, raising her hand. "He's under my protection. Stand down."
The demons hesitated, torn between royal command and their hatred of Alex's very existence. The tension snapped like a whip.
With a roar, the first one lunged.
Alex grinned, mischief sparking in his eyes. "Finally. Something I'm actually good at."
Light exploded from his palms. The street became a battlefield.
________________________
The first guard came at him swinging a cleaver big enough to make a butcher blush. Alex reacted without thinking—his hand snapped up and light flared, solidifying into chains of starlight that wrapped the demon's torso and arm. The weapon clanged against the obsidian street, useless.
"Whoa," Alex muttered, tugging the demon to the ground. "Did I just… Pokémon-catch this guy? Neat."
The others didn't hesitate. Spears tipped with hellfire flew in, heat searing Alex's skin. Instinct kicked in—he ducked, shoved a hand outward, and suddenly gravity betrayed them. The weapons slammed into the ground as if dragged by invisible weights, sparks hissing against the stone.
[Ability: Reality Weaving → Partial Calibration Successful.]
"Great," Alex grunted. "Finally unlocked cheat codes, and I'm using them for crowd control."
Charlie stepped forward, her voice carrying like a bell. "Stand down! He's under my protection!"
The guards hesitated, snarling, torn between loyalty to Pride's court and the Princess's order. One spat, "You think we'll kneel just because Daddy's girl said so? He's Heaven's filth!"
Alex smirked, rolling his shoulders. "Correction: Heaven didn't make me. So technically I'm freelance."
The demon lunged anyway. Alex's palm glowed, and this time the energy didn't form chains—it rippled outward, flooding the alley with raw light. Weapons dissolved into smoke, snarls choked into silence, and the very air vibrated as if rewritten.
[Ability Activated: Sanctuary of the Creator.]
The system's voice hummed in his skull.
[Local Rules Overridden.]
[No Violence Permitted Inside Sanctuary.]
[Stability Cost: Moderate.]
The demons stumbled, trying to swing, but their weapons turned useless in their hands. Their claws stopped inches short of striking, as though invisible hands bound them in place.
"What…" one gasped, fear flickering in his eyes. "…What are you?"
Alex's wings unfurled, casting fractured shadows across the alley. His grin tilted somewhere between cocky and tired. "Honestly? Still figuring that out."
The guards broke, retreating into the crimson haze, muttering curses under their breath. None dared try again.
The light dimmed, the Sanctuary dissolving back into Hell's oppressive air. Alex dropped to one knee, sweat beading on his brow. His chest burned as though his heart had been overclocked by a nuclear reactor.
[Warning: Vessel Output exceeded safe threshold.]
[Recommendation: Rest.]
"Yeah," Alex panted, glaring at the glowing text only he could see. "You think?"
Charlie was suddenly at his side, kneeling, her hand brushing his shoulder. "Alex! Are you—"
He looked up at her, forcing a crooked smile. "Do I look like a guy who just benched reality for five minutes? Because that's exactly how I feel."
She laughed—genuine, relieved, though her eyes still searched him with worry. "You protected them. Even here. That's not… what angels usually do."
Alex's grin softened. For a second, all he saw was her golden hair shining under Hell's blood-red sky. Everything else—the smoke, the sulfur, the whispers—fell away.
Then Rocky squeaked on his shoulder, loud and indignant.
"Right," Alex muttered. "Thanks for the mood-kill, buddy."
Charlie laughed again, lighter this time, and Alex found himself laughing with her—until the ground shook.
The street rumbled, cracks splitting the obsidian. A distant horn bellowed.
Charlie's expression darkened. "They'll send more. They won't stop until the Pride Court has you."
Alex flexed his aching fingers, wings twitching open again. "Yeah? Well, then they better get a bigger court."
[Alert: Additional Hostiles Converging.]
[Note: Wild Variables Detected.]
Alex frowned. "…Wild variables? That doesn't sound ominous at all."
And then, from the rooftops above, came a loud, brash voice:
"Holy SHIT! Did anyone else see glowstick Jesus just wreck those meatheads?"
Alex froze, blinking up at the neon-lit skyline. "Oh, no. Please tell me that isn't who I think it is…"
________________________
The smoke of Alex's Sanctuary still lingered, curling faintly around cracked obsidian. Charlie steadied him with surprising strength, her golden hair catching the hellish glow. His wings flickered unsteadily behind him, still shimmering with the remnants of divine power.
[Warning: Vessel Output Dropping.][Stability: 63% and falling.]
"Yeah, thanks for the update, Cortana-from-Heaven," Alex muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know I overdid it."
Before Charlie could respond, the air split with a voice that was far too loud, far too smug, and far too… human.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"
Alex froze. The sound came from above. He glanced up—
On a rooftop, silhouetted by crimson neon, stood a figure with curved horns and an even bigger grin. His coat flared dramatically as if Hell's wind obeyed him out of sheer pity.
"An angel," the stranger drawled. "And not the boring, stick-up-their-holy-butt kind either. Ohhh, you're shiny. Real shiny. I like shiny."
[Variable Detected: BLITZO (Designation: "Boss")][Classification: Demon – Entrepreneurial Assassin.][Threat Level: Moderate… with spikes of Extreme.]
"Wait," Alex blinked. "Did my system just call you an entrepreneurial assassin? Is that like… LinkedIn for Hell?"
"Hell yeah it is!" the figure barked, pointing a finger-gun at Alex before immediately turning it into a real gun and twirling it around. "Name's Blitzo. The 'o' is silent, but only when you're boring. And you, Glowy McFeathers, look like you just fell outta Heaven's ass and crash-landed into my job."
From the shadows, more figures dropped in behind him:
A red-skinned imp with a rifle slung casually over his back, scowling like life itself annoyed him.
A lanky, gothic hellhound with eyes that glowed like embers. She sniffed the air, ears twitching.
A smaller hellhound with a tablet, thumbs already typing furiously, clearly documenting everything like a scribe at a crime scene.
Charlie's face lit up with recognition—and exasperation. "Oh no. Not you."
Blitzo hopped down from the rooftop, landing with more flair than necessary. He gave her a toothy grin. "Aw, Charlie, sweetie, don't sound so disappointed. We're just here for business. Little contract, little kill, little chaos. Y'know—Tuesday."
Alex raised a glowing hand. "Uh, question. Do assassins in Hell normally announce themselves like discount Batman villains, or is this just your thing?"
The red imp (Moxxie, though Alex didn't know the name yet) groaned. "Please don't encourage him."
[Additional Variables Detected.][Classification: Immediate Murder Professionals (I.M.P.)][Stability Risk: Unpredictable.]
"Oh, great," Alex sighed. "The acronym even sounds like trouble."
Blitzo ignored him, squinting at Alex's glowing wings. "But you… you're interesting. Not crispy like the angels upstairs. Not slimy like the locals. Something in-between. Half-baked. Which makes me wonder…" He leaned forward, grinning wider. "…what the hell are you?"
Alex's pebble squeaked indignantly on his shoulder, as if defending his honor.
Charlie stepped between them, her voice firm. "He's with me."
Blitzo arched a brow. "With you? Ohhh, now I'm really curious. Princess of Hell walking around with a glowstick in cosplay mode? That's gotta be against at least three infernal zoning laws."
The gothic hellhound snorted. "Boss, we've got incoming."
Sure enough, the ground rumbled again. Demons stirred at the edges of the street, armor clanking, claws dragging across stone. The Pride Ring guards hadn't given up.
Blitzo's grin sharpened. "Well, what do you know—more party guests."
Alex spread his wings, wincing as pain lanced through his still-unstable vessel. "Fantastic. Another round of tutorial mobs."
Charlie reached for his arm, steadying him. "You shouldn't fight again, not yet—"
"Oh, don't worry," Blitzo cut in, brandishing twin pistols with a dramatic flourish. "That's our job."
The hellhound cracked her knuckles. Moxxie chambered his rifle. The smaller one adjusted her tablet and muttered something about "workplace safety violations."
The system's chime echoed in Alex's head.
[Wild Variables Engaged.][Traveler Advisory: Observe carefully. Their fates will intertwine with yours.]
Alex groaned. "Oh, good. A prophetic warning. My favorite."
Blitzo winked at him, then fired the first shot.
The street erupted into chaos.
____________________________
The street stank of sulfur, gunpowder, and fresh demon ichor. Shattered armor lay scattered across cracked obsidian, the remains of the Pride Ring guards smoldering in crimson smoke.
Blitzo stood proudly on a pile of rubble, pistols twirling, his coat singed but his grin wider than ever. "And that, ladies and gents and genderless abominations, is how you do it the I.M.P. way!"
"Yeah," Moxxie muttered, reloading his rifle with a scowl, "by shooting wildly and somehow not hitting us in the process."
"Details!" Blitzo chirped. "The crowd loves a show."
Charlie had positioned Alex against a chunk of collapsed stone, keeping a steady hand on his shoulder. His glow was dimmer now, wings twitching weakly. Every muscle in his body ached like molten glass had been poured into his veins.
[Warning: Vessel Stability at 51%.][Recommended Action: Cease all combat until recovery is complete.]
"Trust me," Alex groaned, "fighting is officially canceled. Permanently. I'll put it on my Google Calendar."
Blitzo strolled over, still radiating smugness. He crouched in front of Alex, eyes gleaming with manic curiosity. "Sooo… let's circle back to the important part. You're glowing, you're winged, you're not dead despite being in Hell, and Charlie over here is babysitting you. Which means you're either the weirdest tourist ever, or…" His grin sharpened. "…a divine screw-up. Which is it?"
Alex blinked at him, too tired to care. "Option C: cosmic accident. Congratulations, you've just met the universe's first walking typo."
Loona, the taller hellhound, leaned against the broken wall, smirking. "Honestly? That tracks."
Charlie shot her a warning glance but didn't argue. She helped Alex adjust his position, her hand warm against the glow radiating from him. "He's not a threat. He just needs time."
Moxxie gave a skeptical hum. "With all due respect, Princess, glowing demi-god angel guys don't just show up in Hell. That's a red flag wrapped in a hazard sign."
"Relax," Alex muttered. "The only thing I'm a threat to right now is myself. Pretty sure standing up too fast will erase me from existence."
His pebble companion squeaked on cue, hopping indignantly on his shoulder like it was defending his honor.
Millie—who had been surprisingly quiet until now—giggled. "Aw! Look at the little guy! He's so cute!" She leaned closer, her Southern drawl thickening. "Can I pet 'im?"
Rocky squeaked again, puffing up like a pebble-sized warrior.
Alex raised an eyebrow. "He's union. You'll have to clear that with his lawyer."
Millie laughed even harder, but Blitzo waved the moment aside, leaning back on his heels. "Alright, Sparkles. Lucky for you, I'm feeling generous. You seem like the kinda… anomaly I could use. And by 'use,' I mean exploit shamelessly until it backfires. Interested?"
Charlie immediately bristled. "Blitzo, he's not your employee."
"Aw, c'mon, Charlie! You hoard all the strays. Let me have this one!"
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. "God, Hell is exhausting." He paused, then glanced at Charlie. "Uh—no offense."
She smiled faintly. "None taken."
The system chimed again, quiet but insistent.
[Traveler Advisory: Paths Diverge Here.][Choice Imminent.][Observe, Ally, or Oppose.]
Alex stiffened, the words burning into his mind. He looked at Charlie—earnest, hopeful, too bright for Hell. Then at Blitzo and I.M.P.—chaotic, dangerous, but undeniably effective.
The choice wasn't clear. Maybe it wasn't supposed to be.
For now, though… he was too tired to decide.
He leaned back against the rubble, exhaling slowly. "Fine. Whoever's in charge of this afterlife road trip better be paying overtime, because this is shaping up to be the weirdest Tuesday of my entire existence."
Blitzo smirked. "Buddy, around here? Tuesdays never end."
The last of the guards crumpled into ash, and the street finally fell still. Alex lowered his glowing hands, chest heaving, wings twitching with pent-up energy. Around them, Hell itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then came the sound of slow, sarcastic clapping.
"Daaaamn," Blitzo drawled, stepping out from behind a broken spire with a grin way too wide for the situation. "Shiny wings and a body count. Not bad for a guy who looks like Heaven's prom reject."
Moxxie peeked out behind him, adjusting his gun nervously. "Sir, maybe we shouldn't antagonize the—uh—walking apocalypse."
"Relax, Moxx," Blitzo said, waving him off. "If he was gonna smite us, he'd have done it already."
Loona, scrolling on her phone like none of this impressed her, muttered, "Or he's saving it for later."
Alex stared at them, caught between exhaustion and disbelief. "Who the hell… are you people?"
"Immediate Murder Professionals," Blitzo declared proudly, like the name actually meant anything to anyone outside the trio. "Don't worry, cupcake, we're not here to kill you. Not today, anyway."
Charlie stepped forward quickly, tension in her voice. "Blitzo—please. Not now. He's under my protection."
Blitzo's grin widened. "Ooooh. The princess is making friends. I like him already."
The street grew tense again as whispers spread among the onlookers. An angel glowing with divine light, the Princess of Hell standing at his side, and I.M.P.—the most infamous hit-squad in the Pride Ring—all in one place. It was a recipe for chaos.
Charlie touched Alex's arm, firm and steady. "We need to go. Now."
____________________________
Instead of just Charlie + Alex walking off, we fold I.M.P. naturally into the transition:
Charlie led Alex quickly down the cracked street, the I.M.P. crew trailing behind like a pack of curious wolves who hadn't decided whether to help or heckle.
"Hey, princess," Blitzo called after her, "you mind explaining why Heaven's little glowstick is tagging along with you? 'Cause that seems like kind of a big deal."
"Not here," Charlie snapped, surprising Alex with the steel in her tone. "It's too dangerous."
They turned down an alley where the chaos of Hell dulled to a low growl. The further they walked, the less the city seemed to spit and sneer at them.
Ahead, neon light flickered faintly against the skyline. A hotel.
Charlie stopped at the steps, gazing up at it with quiet determination. "Here. He'll be safe here."
Alex raised an eyebrow, wings folding uneasily. "A hotel? In Hell?"
Blitzo squinted at the buzzing sign. "Wait a second—Hazbin Hotel? Oh, this I gotta see."
Charlie smiled, just a little. "Then follow me."
The streets of the Pride Ring finally began to thin as Charlie guided Alex away from the wreckage. The sounds of distant sirens and angry roars echoed behind them, but the chaos faded with every step.
Alex leaned heavily on her shoulder, wings dragging faint sparks along the ground. His body still hummed with unstable energy, but every flicker of power felt like it would burn him out from the inside.
[Stability: 43%. Immediate rest required.]
"Yeah, thanks," Alex muttered at the air. "Not like I couldn't already tell."
Charlie gave him a sidelong look. "Are you… talking to yourself?"
"Yup. Comes with the whole 'newly-upgraded glowing accident' package." He managed a crooked smile. "Don't worry, it's not contagious. Probably."
Charlie laughed softly, though her eyes remained troubled.
Behind them, I.M.P. followed at a casual distance. Blitzo strutted like he owned the street, hands on his hips. "Sooo… we're really doing this? Just strolling along with Captain Christmas Miracle like this is casual Tuesday? You do realize every eyeball in Hell just saw him go Supernova Barbie on those guards, right?"
"Y'all saw that too, right?" Millie chimed, wide-eyed. "That was some next-level mojo! Even Mammon's goons don't sparkle that much when they explode!"
Moxxie frowned, whispering to her, "That's not exactly reassuring, Millie."
Loona, scrolling lazily on her phone, snorted. "Honestly? Kinda refreshing. Finally someone more unstable than Blitzo."
"Hey!" Blitzo shot her a glare. "I'm strategically unpredictable, thank you very much."
Alex groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Please tell me you people don't come as a package deal."
Charlie hid her smile. "They're not as bad as they seem."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "Princess, I just watched the short one snipe three demons in the kneecaps while humming a show tune. They're exactly as bad as they seem."
Millie beamed. "Aw, thank you!"
Charlie cleared her throat, steering him toward a looming silhouette at the end of the street. It rose like a crooked cathedral, neon lights buzzing faintly against its gothic spires. A sign creaked above the entrance, flickering between letters:
Hazbin Hotel.
Alex stopped in his tracks, squinting at it. "…You run a hotel. In Hell."
Charlie nodded proudly. "A place for redemption."
"A hotel. For demons." He rubbed his temples. "What's next, a bed-and-breakfast for serial killers?"
Blitzo cackled. "Buddy, don't tempt her."
Charlie ignored him. She turned to Alex, her smile gentle but firm. "You need a place to rest. Somewhere safe. Let me help you, Alex."
The words pressed against him heavier than her touch. Safe. Rest. Both sounded impossible in Hell. Yet, when she looked at him, he almost believed it.
The system chimed again.
[Traveler's Path Adjusting…][Temporary Haven Acquired: Hazbin Hotel.][Warning: This sanctuary is not absolute.]
Alex exhaled slowly. "Figures. Nothing's ever that simple."
Still, when Charlie pushed open the hotel doors, light spilling into the street, Alex didn't resist. He stepped inside, Rocky squeaking on his shoulder, his strange new fate pulling him deeper into the one place in Hell that promised hope.
Blitzo grinned at his team, jerking his thumb after them. "Well, kiddos, looks like we're crashing the Princess' slumber party."
Loona rolled her eyes. "Kill me now."
Moxxie muttered, "You already are."
The door shut behind them, sealing Alex's first step into Hell's most unlikely sanctuary.
_____________________________
The neon sign buzzed weakly above them as Charlie pushed open the hotel doors. The cracked glass and peeling gold trim made it look more like a forgotten ruin than a sanctuary. Alex hesitated at the threshold, his wings folding close. The air inside was… different. Quieter. Less oppressive. Almost as if the chaos of Hell dimmed at the entrance.
Loona kicked the door wider with a scoff. "Seriously? This is where you're taking him? A dump with a glowstick sign?"
Charlie shot her a look but said nothing, stepping inside with Alex in tow. The lobby was dimly lit, a mix of old grandeur and obvious disrepair. Faded carpets stretched across cracked tiles. Chandeliers hung crooked, one bulb flickering desperately to stay alive.
Alex blinked. "…Wow. You weren't kidding about Hell needing renovations."
"Hey!" a sharp voice rang out from behind the reception desk. "It's a work in progress, thank you very much."
Alex turned—and found himself face-to-face with a demon in a bright red suit, sharp grin stretching ear to ear, bowtie gleaming like a warning sign. His eyes practically vibrated with excitement the moment they landed on Alex's glowing wings.
"Ohhh, what have we here?" Alastor's voice boomed like a vintage radio, static curling around every syllable. "An angelic visitor! My, my, my—what a rare treat."
Alex instinctively stepped back. "Okay, nope. Don't like him already."
Blitzo leaned against the wall, smirking. "Finally, someone creepier than me."
Charlie hurried forward, trying to mediate. "Alastor, please—he's not here to cause trouble. He just… fell into the Pride Ring. I brought him here because it's safe."
"Safe?" Husk muttered from the bar, his wings twitching lazily as he poured himself a drink. "Kid's glowing like a beacon in the middle of Hell. Safe's the last thing he is."
Niffty zipped past Alex in a blur, circling him with wide eyes. "Oh wow, wow, WOW! He is glowing! Look at the wings, look at the shine, oooh—does it come off? Can I polish them?"
Alex swatted her away, bewildered. "Personal space, please!"
Rocky squeaked indignantly from his shoulder, puffing up with surprising menace for a pebble. Niffty gasped. "Eeeeee—he has a pet rock! Adorable!"
Moxxie, who'd been lingering at the back with Millie, muttered under his breath. "I feel like we're mixing way too many brand logos here…"
Millie elbowed him. "Shush. This is fun!"
The tension in the lobby shifted. Alex could feel every eye on him—the Hazbin crew sizing him up, the I.M.P. crew whispering to themselves, and Charlie standing at the center of it all, looking at him like he was the key to something she hadn't yet dared to dream.
Alex rubbed his temples. "Okay. Quick recap. I died, woke up as… whatever this is." He gestured at his glowing form. "Fell through a cosmic blender, landed in Hell, fought a small army, and now I'm apparently checking into a hotel that looks like it's haunted by a discount Scooby-Doo villain. Am I missing anything?"
Angel Dust sauntered in from the staircase, puffing smoke from his cigarette. His eyes swept over Alex before he smirked. "Yeah. You forgot the part where you walked into our home, glow-boy. Hope you don't snore."
Alex stared, then sighed. "Oh, great. Roommates."
Charlie clasped her hands together, beaming with determination despite the circus around her. "Everyone—this is Alex. He's… new here. And he needs our help."
The room went silent at her words.
Hazbin's residents exchanged skeptical looks. I.M.P. looked ready to bolt—or watch the chaos with popcorn. And Alex… could only wonder if "help" was really the right word for whatever came next.
______________________
The Hotel's front doors creaked shut behind them with a final thunk. The muffled chaos of the Pride Ring faded, replaced by the heavy stillness of the lobby. For a moment, Alex just stood there, catching his breath, the glow from his wings dimming to a faint shimmer.
Charlie was already smoothing her dress, her smile stretched thin but determined. "Well… here we are. Home sweet home."
Blitzo snorted. "Sweet? More like moldy. Looks like a crackhouse and a church had an ugly baby."
"Blitz," Moxxie hissed, tugging at his boss's sleeve. "Maybe don't insult the people giving us shelter?"
Millie grinned, unbothered. "I dunno, hon, I kinda like it! Cozy in a spooky way."
Loona crossed her arms, flicking her tail. "Looks like it smells."
Alex glanced at the cracked chandeliers, the faded carpet, the peeling wallpaper. Then at the faintly glowing "Hazbin Hotel" sign outside the window. He let out a small laugh. "I've stayed in worse. Motel 6 in Ohio. Don't ask."
Charlie's shoulders eased a little at his words. Her eyes lingered on him, as if she were measuring something only she could see. "You'll be safe here. I promise."
The word safe felt foreign in this place. Alex looked down at Rocky, who squeaked reassuringly from his shoulder, then at the crew of demons scattered through the room. Safe? Hardly. But it was something.
The System chimed quietly in the back of his head:
[STAGE COMPLETE.] [CHAPTER ONE TERMINATED.] [New Directive Unlocked: Survive Integration.]
Alex groaned. "Great. Sounds like the world's worst group project."
Charlie tilted her head. "What was that?"
"Nothing," he said quickly, forcing a grin. "Just… wondering if room service comes with holy water or just whiskey."
Husk, hunched at the bar, raised his glass without looking up. "Kid, around here, whiskey is holy water."
For the first time since his fall, Alex laughed without forcing it. A small, tired laugh — but real.
Charlie clasped her hands, brightening. "Then it's settled. You're staying here. Tomorrow, we can figure out the details."
"Tomorrow," Alex echoed, though he had no idea what tomorrow meant anymore.
Blitzo yawned loudly, sprawling across a tattered couch. "Well, looks like we're crashing too. Can't pass up a free bed in this hellhole. I call dibs on the room without bloodstains!"
"Do we even have one of those?" Charlie muttered under her breath.
The others began drifting — I.M.P. bickering, Husk pouring another drink, Charlie trying to tidy the lobby in nervous motions. Alex lingered near the entrance, staring out the cracked glass at the red sky of Hell.
A new world. A new body. A mission from a God who refused to explain Himself.
And now, a Hotel full of strangers who might just be crazy enough to call him "guest."
He whispered under his breath, half to Rocky, half to himself: "Guess this is where the fun begins."
The System's voice echoed softly, like a lullaby and a threat:
[Welcome, Demiurgic Archangel.]
[End of Chapter One.]
{OK the new Fic is hear now hehe tell me how good is it, give a review and stones if you have spare one}