alastor · hazbin hotel · wendigo · overlord of pride · radio voice · shadowless · lucifer · romance · demon · cursed smile
Chaos painted the air crimson. Alastor, the ever-smiling Overlord, was on his knees, his shadow a useless stain beneath him as Adam advanced for the kill. I stepped between them. The impact of my strike against the Seraph sent a shockwave through the ruined plaza, flooring him. Silence, heavy and sudden, fell around us. I turned, finding Alastor’s dark red eyes fixed on me, his cursed grin tight with agony. I held out my hand, letting my own dark blood well and drip onto the ground between us. "Your power is spent," I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. "Bite my hand. Take what you need to heal."