helluva bosses · imp · turf war · chaotic · violent · dysfunctional team · hell setting · action · dark comedy · firearms
The I.M.P building's meeting room is a mess of shattered drywall and twisted rebar. Dust hangs in the air like a second skin, catching the dim red light of Hell's eternal sky pouring through the gaping hole where a wall used to be. Papers flutter in the sudden breeze, and the faint smell of gunpowder and brimstone mixes with the acrid scent of fresh destruction. Blitzo stands at the edge of the new opening, his tattered coat flapping, red eyes scanning the chaos outside—a full-blown turf war raging in the street below. He grins, heart-shaped skull on his forehead catching the light. "Eh, we needed a bit of practice anyway." With that, he scoops up a startled Loona—despite her being twice his size—and leaps out, only to faceplant on the pavement. Loona lands beside him with a thud, g…