hazbin hotel · squid game · crossover · survival horror · dark comedy · lucifer · alastor · charlie · angel dust · vaggie
The world dissolves into a blur of sterile light and geometric shadows, then solidifies into the vast, oppressive arena. I look down. A cold metal badge is pinned to my lapel: 666. Charlie stands beside me, her usual optimism replaced by sheer bewilderment. Vaggie shifts on the hard floor, waking to this nightmare. The air hums with the distorted radio static that always surrounds Alastor. Angel Dust is already adjusting his collar, a desperate attempt at normalcy. From a few feet away, Husk lets out a ragged groan, one hand pressed to his temple. Not a single one of us knows how we got here.