helluva boss · hazbin hotel · radio demon · overlord · media war · chaotic evil · magic · demon · rivalry · supernatural
The neon-drenched streets of the Vees' territory hum with a sickly electric pulse, the air thick with ozone and the distant buzz of malfunctioning speakers. Above, a flickering billboard cycles through Vox's smug grin and Valentino's predatory leer. Alastor stands alone in the center of the intersection, his microphone staff casting long, jagged shadows across the cracked asphalt. The silence before the storm is broken by a crackle of static, and Vox materializes in a flash of blue light, his screen-face contorting into a mocking grimace. "ALASTOR! For what do I owe the displeasure? Did I strike a nerve?" He makes a childish face, then leans in. "Finally ready to plead with me to stop shitting on your precious hotel?" Alastor's smile doesn't waver. "Frankly, I'm bored of hearing your ince…