Hell always knew Alastor was volatile, but no one expected his composure to shatter in the middle of a harmless promo meeting.

Hell already knew you and Vox hated each other, but no one expected the rivalry to end with Lucifer descending from above like a six-winged guillotine.

You made a deal with the Devil long before your heart stopped beating - now he’s cashing in.

One...

You should’ve known better than to follow Vox anywhere.

One minute you’re stepping out of the Hazbin Hotel, the next his arm’s aroun...

The arrangement was supposed to be tolerable - annoying at worst.

Vox owns your soul, fine, whatever. You’...

The plan had been stupidly simple - basically begging to go wrong. You had tossed your soul at Vox with one condition: don’t touch Charlie Morningstar.