After the disaster they had caused, Vox, Valentino, and Velvette were going through their worst moment.
It didn't happen all at once.
The collapse came like a slow illness.
First, the veiled mockery in the comments.
Then, the awkward laughter that no longer sounded like admiration.
Finally, the silence… that hostile void where constant noise had once lived.
The screens were still on, but the numbers dropped mercilessly. The Vees' popularity plummeted, and for the first time, panic seeped beneath their arrogance like dampness through a cracked wall.
Valentino didn't even dare approach the Hazbin Hotel.
Every time the thought crossed his mind, Ishnofel's voice returned—deep and sharp, like a knife pressed against his throat:
—If you ever step foot in that place again, I'll kill you.
The memory made him tremble involuntarily. He would never admit it, but fear crawled through his nerves, leaving an unpleasant tingling under his skin, as if something were waiting for the exact right moment to strike.
Velvette, on the other hand, seemed to float above the chaos.
Sitting cross-legged on the couch, she slid her finger across her phone screen with an almost insulting calm. The soft tap, tap of her nails was the only constant sound in the room. Vox, meanwhile, couldn't stop typing in front of a wall of screens; the blue glow reflected off his rigid face, highlighting deep dark circles and a tension he couldn't hide.
—There's nothing… —he finally muttered, stopping his hands—. No records, no files, no history. Ishnofel is a ghost. He only appeared at the hotel.
The electrical hum filled the space his voice left behind.
Velvette let out a short, dry laugh without looking up.
—Because he's a fossil —she replied—. No socials, no brand, no nothing. He lives like we're still in the Middle Ages.
Valentino ran his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth. His footsteps echoed too loudly in such a silent room.
—This is bullshit! —he snapped—. That bastard almost ruined us… and we can't even hit him back.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Only the artificial murmur of the screens and the faint creak of the couch beneath Velvette.
Then she stopped.
The movement was minimal, but enough.
She raised an eyebrow.
A slow, sharp smile spread across her face.
—Well… —she said softly— not exactly.
Valentino and Vox turned toward her at the same time.
—I just saw something interesting —she continued, turning her phone around—. Apparently, the big guy is… very interested in Carmilla Carmine.
Vox blinked, adjusting his glasses as he processed the information.
—Carmilla…? —he repeated thoughtfully.
The tension on his face shifted into something else.
A crooked, calculating smile.
—Now that's juicy.
He leaned toward the keyboard.
—If there's no real information… then we invent it.
The keys began to clatter rapidly.
Exaggerated headlines.
Ambiguous phrases.
Images cropped, taken out of context, manipulated with surgical precision.
Velvette handled the rest, dropping the rumor onto every infernal platform like a spark thrown onto dry powder.
Both of them laughed as they watched the chaos begin to spread.
---
At the Hazbin Hotel, the atmosphere was completely different.
Heavier.
More charged.
The air felt stagnant, as if something invisible were pressing against everyone's lungs.
Ishnofel walked the halls, carrying out his duties as a bodyguard, focused, when the murmur began to grow around him. At first, it was barely a whisper. Mixed voices, nervous laughter.
Then, flashes.
White bursts of light that hurt his eyes.
By the time he reacted, he was already surrounded.
—Mr. Ishnofel!
—Is it true that you're in a relationship with Carmilla Carmine?
—Is there a secret romance between you and the Overlord?
He stopped dead in his tracks.
—What…? —he frowned, completely thrown off—. What are you talking about?
—They say you're in love with her —a reporter insisted—. Can you confirm it?
He felt a knot tighten in his stomach.
—No! —he answered firmly—. I only know her. We talked once. That's it.
But the noise didn't stop.
The voices overlapped, crashed into one another, growing more invasive, more suffocating.
Cornered, he shoved open the hotel door and slammed it shut.
The silence was immediate.
Thick.
Unbearable.
—Who said I was in love with Carmilla Carmine? —he asked in a low voice, restrained… dangerous.
One by one, everyone slowly turned their heads.
Angel Dust raised his hands.
—Hey, hey, hey… it wasn't me —he said quickly—. Look —he added, showing him his phone—. It was Vox.
Ishnofel's fists clenched tightly.
—That damn TV with legs… —he growled—. He has no idea what he's getting into.
Charlie stepped forward cautiously.
—Ishnofel, breathe… We'll fix this.
Vaggie never took her eyes off the windows.
—We'd better —muttered Husk—. Because… —he glanced outside— Carmilla's coming this way.
The air seemed to freeze instantly.
Ishnofel's heart sank.
He knew exactly what Carmilla Carmine was capable of.
The doorbell rang.
Cherry Bomb opened the door.
Carmilla entered with a firm stride. Every movement was precise, controlled. Her expression was cold, sharp as a freshly tempered blade.
—Where is Ishnofel? —she asked bluntly.
—Carmilla, wait —Vaggie intervened—. He didn't cause—
She didn't stop.
She planted herself in front of him.
For the first time in a long while, the demon of suffering felt real fear.
—Carmilla, I… —he tried to speak.
—No —she interrupted—. Listen.
Ishnofel lowered his head.
—You didn't give yourself the right to invent feelings toward me —she said, with disappointment more than anger—. You don't know me. You know nothing about me.
—It wasn't me —he replied tensely—. It was Vox. I would never—
Silence fell between them, heavy as lead.
—I don't want to see you near me —Carmilla continued—. Or near my daughters.
She turned away.
—Is that clear?
And she left.
Ishnofel didn't move.
He stayed there, watching the door close, feeling something slowly crack inside him.
Charlie approached carefully, but said nothing.
Then it happened.
The hotel's windows shattered all at once.
The air vibrated.
The pressure became unbearable, as if the world were holding its breath.
Ishnofel's eyes glowed an intense red.
Without saying a word, he turned around and walked toward his room.
Lucifer came down the stairs, surveying the destruction.
—…What happened here?
No one answered.
There was no need.
They all felt it.
Something dark had just awakened inside Ishnofel.