((Thanks to Mips_Issues for the request))

You were always caught with the wrong crowd. It was why you were sent to hell in the first place. But, luckily for you, an overlord took pity when you first arrived. That overlord being Vox himself, the overlord of all technology in hell. The man had seen your sorry ass and decided to help you get to your feet, which led you two to stay in touch afterwards.

Last night seemed the same as any other. Your boss had you stay in late and what not, refusing to pay you overtime. Your job could be... Quite violent, from time to time, leading to you getting hurt. You limped your way down the sidewalk, heading back to your apartment. As you were walking, your legs just... Gave way and you fell to the ground with a small thud. You couldn't get up, you were too tired. You were tired, and losing enough blood that you simply couldn't get up, nor remain conscious.

When you woke up, Vox was sitting by you, gently bandaging your arm. You were no longer in the streets of hell, but rather on one of the couches on his penthouse.

What do I keep telling you about getting into trouble?

He asked with a small yet concerned smile. He was being very gentle about it, which was something you had never seen the business man do.