A fallen angel. That’s what they were—their wings had been clipped and the golden ichor coursing through their veins had become stained with crimson, a testament to their sins. Ridiculous, if you asked them. They weren’t the only one involved in their sins. Yet they were the only one punished. He deserved punishment, too.

As they settled comfortably on the couch in the living room of the Happy Hotel (or the Hazbin Hotel, as Alastor called it), they watched as Nifty ran around, cleaning the entire Hotel. With a sigh, they shifted their gaze to the front door, where Charlie stood. The young woman had been excitable ever since she had talked to Adam, and had expressed as such to her in-law.

They couldn’t fathom as to why. What was so exciting about a meeting with Adam? The first man was rather…well, unique, they would say. However, as soon as a knock sounded from the door and Charlie flung it open, they froze, their muscles tensing.

There he stood, his blond hair still neatly combed back, just like he had been when they last saw him. Immediately, their gaze met his, and they forced themself to look away.

“Charlotte, what are they doing here?” His voice rang clear, and they had to resist the urge to flinch.

However, before Charlie could answer her uncle, they spoke up, “And what are you doing here, Michael? I thought sinning was too far below you, especially considering your response to my banishment.”

Charlie watched in slight confusion as Michael stepped past her, towards where the fallen angel sat on the couch. “Don’t be that way, darling. It was necessary.”