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The ripples of Alastor’s reappearance spread far beyond the walls of the Hazbin Hotel. For seven years, the Radio Demon had been nothing more than a cautionary tale—a ghostly legend of Hell's most sinister power. His sudden return now sent shockwaves through Pentagram City, shaking its balance of power and leaving its overlords scrambling for answers.
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The Vees’ Reaction
At the summit of VVV Tower, the night was anything but calm. The sprawling penthouse hummed with activity as Valentino, Vox, and Velvette held a rare emergency meeting. The walls, adorned with monitors and social media dashboards, flashed with trending headlines: “ALASTOR RETURNS!”
“Seven years,” Vox muttered, pacing as his holographic visage flickered erratically. “Seven damn years, and he just shows up like nothing happened?”
Valentino leaned back against his desk, cigar smoldering. “I’m telling you, he’s nothing but a washed-up relic. What’s he gonna do, open a jazz club? Please.”
Velvette, perched on the edge of a plush couch, tapped furiously at her phone. “Relic or not, people are losing their minds out there. ‘#RadioReturn’ is trending, and everyone’s talking about him.” She glanced up with a sly grin. “We could spin this, you know. Make him look weak, irrelevant. Turn the buzz into bad press.”
Vox’s screen glitched as he slammed his fist on the table. “You don’t get it! Alastor isn’t like us. He doesn’t care about public perception. He’s dangerous because he doesn’t need what we have—wealth, power, followers. He’s a wildcard, and I hate wildcards.”
“Relax, Vox,” Valentino drawled. “We’ve ruled this city for years without him. Let him play house at that silly hotel. Hell’s not the same as when he left. He’s out of his depth.”
But Vox wasn’t convinced. His glowing eyes narrowed as he watched a grainy surveillance clip of Alastor smiling at the camera. “We’ll see. Keep tabs on him. If he steps out of line... we’ll remind him who’s really in charge.”
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The Hotel’s Growing Unease
While the chaos outside the hotel raged on, the Hazbin Hotel’s interior was quiet—too quiet. Sinister sat in the lounge, watching as Angel Dust and Husk played cards at a nearby table. Charlie was bustling about, clearly trying to distract herself with work. Alastor’s presence, while not unexpected for them, seemed to cast a longer shadow now that Hell was paying attention.
Sinister couldn’t ignore the sense of unease settling over the group. Angel Dust, usually the first to crack a joke, was uncharacteristically subdued. Even Husk, grumpy as ever, was unusually sharp with his words.
Vaggie walked in, her expression grim. “The news is everywhere. Alastor’s return is all anyone’s talking about.”
Alastor himself entered the room moments later, his smile as wide and unnerving as ever. “Why, thank you for the free advertising! It’s always a pleasure to know I’m still relevant.”
Vaggie glared. “Don’t act like this is a good thing. You’ve made the hotel a target.”
“Targets are only problematic if they’re hit,” Alastor replied smoothly. “And I assure you, my dear, no one in this city poses a threat to me.”
Sinister couldn’t hold back. “Your arrogance will be the downfall of this mission,” they said, standing. “We’re here to offer redemption, not spark a war.”
Alastor’s grin never faltered as he regarded them. “Ah, redemption. A noble goal, but one Hell has no use for. Still, I do enjoy the show. Carry on!”
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Hazbin Hotel: A Sinister Redemption
FanfictionHazbin Hotel: A Sinister Redemption In the depths of Hell, where chaos reigns supreme and the Overlords thrive on sin, one figure dares to rise above the infernal disorder. Prime Sinister, a self-proclaimed Ecclesiastical Overlord, seeks to impose a...
