If there was one universal truth in Hell, it was this:
A Goetia prince should never be allowed to wander the slums unsupervised.
And yet, somehow, here Malerion was guiding a hyperactive blue-feathered aristocrat through the beating heart of Sin Rouge while his entire inner circle desperately tried not to have a collective heart attack.
Vaethelion walked ahead of them with the grace of someone who had never in his life feared a single consequence.
He spun in a full circle the moment he entered the main room.
"OHH!!! This is WONDERFUL!"
He pointed at the bar with dramatic flair:
"Is this where the alcohol happens?"
Malerion nodded once.
"Splendid! I've only ever had palace wine. It tastes like melted disappointment."
Donnie choked behind him.
Vael leaned over the counter, studying the shelves of cheap, toxic Lust Ring liquor like they were rare gemstones.
"Oh my. Everything here looks lethal. I love it already."
Skit who had been wiping a glass froze completely when Vael's masked face turned toward him.
The imp dropped the glass.
It shattered.
Vael gasped.
"OH! Is this one of your minions!?"
Skit puffed up proudly.
"Y-Yeah! I mean NOT a minion, I mean, I work here."
Bit tugged him away by the collar before he said something fatal.
Vael pointed at both of them, delighted.
"They are ADORABLE. Can I pet them?"
Both imps vanished instantly behind Rafe.
"No," Malerion said.
Vael pouted but followed obediently.
The War Room
Next was the operations table.
Quill was mid-sketch in a massive blueprint when Vael swooped in.
"Ohhh! WHAT is THIS?"
"Please don't touch anything," Quill begged.
Vael touched everything.
Rune tablets.
Power conduits.
Maps.
A half-finished resonance battery.
He held up a glowing device.
"What does this button do?"
Quill screamed, grabbed it, flung it out the window, and shouted down the hall:
"BIT! CATCH!"
A tiny "got it!" came from far away.
Vael clasped his hands happily.
"Incredible efficiency!"
Quill fainted face-first into his own notebook.
Dreg's Domain
Dreg was sharpening a blade longer than Vael was tall.
The prince froze.
"…Can I touch it?"
"No," Dreg growled.
Vael touched it.
Dreg inhaled like he was about to commit royal murder.
Malerion intervened by placing a hand lightly on the blade.
The vibration of his Echo calmed it instantly.
Vael blinked.
"Oh! It reacts to you. How interesting…"
His head tilted sharply.
"You're not like the others."
Malerion stayed silent.
Dreg mouthed "don't say shit" aggressively behind Vael's back.
Liza's Corner
Liza sat on a stool reading a newspaper upside down.
She didn't move when Vael approached.
She didn't blink.
Vael waved a hand in front of her.
Nothing.
He waved harder.
Still nothing.
Rafe whispered loudly,
"She's ignoring you, Your Highness."
Vael looked personally offended.
"Nobody ignores me."
Liza flipped a page calmly.
Vael leaned very close.
"Hello?"
Finally she spoke.
"Prince."
He straightened.
"Ah! She DOES know me."
"With regret."
Rafe collapsed into laughter.
Vael pouted again.
The Back Rooms
Malerion walked the prince through:
■ the storage vault
■ the reinforced doors Quill built
■ the emergency tunnels
■ the soundproof training chamber
■ the upstairs balconies
■ and the quiet inner hallways where Sin Rouge lived and breathed
Vael absorbed every detail with almost alarming enthusiasm.
"Your people move like a coordinated flock," Vael said as they walked. "Not a gang. Not a crew. Something… structured. Intentional."
He tapped his chin.
"And you your energy is stitched into every wall. Every room. Very fascinating."
Malerion kept walking.
"You're different," Vael added brightly. "Not like other demons. And certainly not like a sinner."
Malerion felt Alastor sharpen inside him.
"Careful."
"I didn't ask why you're different," Vael said quickly. "That would be rude!"
He paused.
"But I'm definitely going to figure it out eventually."
Malerion exhaled slowly.
"Please don't."
Vael ignored this entirely.
The Moment Everyone Feared
They reached the balcony at the top of Sin Rouge overlooking the neon-drenched district below.
Vael stepped up to the railing, feathers glowing faintly in the lights, wings slightly spread.
"This place…" he murmured, voice softer.
"It shouldn't feel this safe."
His head tilted.
"This part of the slums used to feel like static. Sharp, chaotic, broken. Now it feels… aligned. Like something is humming underneath everything."
Malerion didn't answer.
Vael wasn't done.
"I don't understand it yet," he admitted.
"But I know one thing."
He looked over his shoulder mask glinting.
"I like it here."
Behind them, Malerion's entire crew stood frozen in fear, trying very hard not to breathe too loudly.
Vael perked up suddenly.
"Which means… I'm coming back!"
Everyone died internally.
Malerion stared at him.
"Vael."
"Yes?"
"Please warn us next time."
"Absolutely not!"
He spread his wings dramatically.
"Surprises make life exciting!"
Vael's feathers shimmered as he hovered a few seconds longer, suspended above the balcony.
Then, unexpectedly, he spoke again quieter this time, his tone losing some of its theatrical brightness.
"You know," he said, almost to himself, "it's difficult to find someone in my… position… who doesn't flinch or grove the moment I enter a room."
Malerion turned slightly, but didn't speak.
Vael looked forward into the neon night.
"Most demons either fear me because of my family…"
A pause.
"…or they fear disappointing me because of my family."
There was no sadness in his voice.
Just a matter-of-fact emptiness that Malerion recognized instantly.
Vael let out a small breath.
"And then there's you."
He tilted his head, wings folding slowly.
"You don't worship me."
He smiled behind the mask.
"…but you also don't fear me."
Silence.
Soft.
Honest.
"That's… rare."
He finally turned toward Malerion fully, feathers catching the neon lights like starlight.
"So don't misunderstand," he added quickly, lifting his chin in that aristocratic way again.
"I'm not lonely or anything absurd like that."
Malerion arched a brow.
Vael coughed once.
"I simply prefer interesting company."
Another beat.
"And you are… interesting."
He tapped the railing lightly with one taloned finger an elegant little gesture meant to disguise sincerity under layers of princely pride.
"Let's call it that."
With a flicker of wings and a final flutter of blue feathers, he rose into the air.
"Until next time, Malerion!"
And then he was gone leaving only a shimmer of magic in the neon sky.
Malerion watched the glow fade, silent.
Behind him, his entire inner circle looked like they had witnessed the beginning of political Armageddon.
Alastor whispered in his mind, voice amused:
"He is trying to be your friend."
Malerion closed his eyes.
"I noticed."
"At least he's subtle about it…"
Malerion snorted under his breath.
"…for a Goetia."