Incident: Morning After

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The street glows. Neon signs flicker, arguing with each other. I walk. Carmine walks beside me, posture perfect, coat immaculate despite the blood that hasn't quite finished drying on my knuckles.

Y/N: You're quiet.

Carmine: I'm always quiet.

Y/N: No. This is extra quiet. The kind that means you're thinking.

She glances at me sideways. One eyebrow lifts a fraction.

Carmine: You annihilated the Overlords in days. I'm allowed a moment.

Y/N: They were sloppy.

Carmine: They ruled Hell.

Y/N: That explains it.

She exhales. Not a laugh. But close.

Carmine: You really don't see it, do you?

Y/N: See what?

Carmine: What you did.

Y/N: I removed obstacles.

We pass a storefront with shattered glass. A demon scurries away when it notices us. Carmine watches it go.

Carmine: You reshaped the hierarchy of Hell. Permanently.

Y/N: I'm kind of an expert at this point.

This time she actually smiles.

Carmine: You're impossible.

Y/N: Yet alive.

She hums, amused despite herself.

Carmine: I suppose loyalty does come with occupational hazards.

Y/N: You could've left. I wouldn't have followed you.

Carmine: I chose not to.

Y/N: That was your first mistake.

Carmine: I've made worse.

Y/N: Hold it. Why are the signs off?

Carmine: That's irregular. They're never off.

We stop. Something is wrong. The neon signs of the hotel are off and I can hear a group of people waiting inside.

Y/N: I smell foul play.

Carmine: You're right. Something is wrong.

Y/N: Not for long.

I don't slow down. I accelerate. Shoulder into the front doors like I'm breaching a bunker.

Wood explodes inward. Splinters scatter. I step through smoke and dust, weapon up—

Y/N: And nobody shoots me.

Lights snap on. Streamers fall. Confetti drifts like it's mocking gravity.

Charlie: Surprise!

Charlie stands frozen, cheeks red. Cherri Bomb's perched on the railing, grinning too wide. Angel Dust lounges on a couch like he paid rent. Rosie smiles with that polite knife-behind-the-back warmth. Mayday stands near the stairs. Carmine steps in beside me, blinks once.

Carmine: ...Surprise.

Y/N: This better not be a musical.

Angel: Relax, tiger. No jazz hands. Promise.

Cherri: Hey, Harbinger. Nice entrance. Ten outta ten. Real "apex predator" vibes.

Y/N: I was expecting gunfire, not confetti.

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