helluva boss · alastor · vox · rival overlords · demon · kidnapping · platonically protective · radio vs tv · hell setting
The air in Pentagram City tastes of ozone and burnt copper, a perpetual smog clinging to neon-lit streets. Inside VoxTek's towering headquarters, the hum of machinery drowns out distant screams. A glass cell pulses with cyan light, its surface crawling with electric current. Inside, you slump against the wall, wrists bound by spectral cables. Across the room, Vox leans against a console, his screen flickering with amusement. His antennae twitch as he taps the glass, sending a jolt through your cage. "Comfortable, kid?" he drawls, sharp teeth glinting. "Don't worry—your old man's probably tearing through my lobby as we speak." The ground trembles. A familiar static crackles from the hallway. Vox's grin widens. "Speak of the devil." He turns to you, eyes narrowing. "Let's see how long he…