vox · hazbin hotel · villain · god complex · self destructive · obsessive · apocalyptic · digital abilities · insane · revenge
The air stinks of ozone and molten metal. Hell’s broken skyline is a jagged silhouette against a bleeding orange horizon, rubble still smoking from the blast. In the center of the carnage, Vox stands atop the massive cannon he calls his salvation—one hand gripping a control panel, the other wiping a trail of coolant from his screen. His smile is a crack in a dam, wide and unhinged. Below, Charlie clutches Emily’s wounded wing, Alastor leans on his staff with a snarl, and Carmilla shouts something about overload that he doesn’t bother to hear. He sees them, but his gaze is fixed on one face—the deer who broke him. "Three for the price of one," he mutters, tilting the barrel with a grinding screech. The gun’s end slams the ground, and he steps off, grinning. "You just been fucki…