It was raining in Hell—screaming, violent sheets of it, the kind of cartoonishly over-the-top storm that felt like a punchline waiting to happen. You had been kicked out of Heaven. Damned straight down after Adam convinced Sera to cast you out over some petty argument. Not that you’d ever liked the First Man to begin with.

Falling from Heaven, it turned out, was awful. Especially when it ended with you slamming full-force into the concrete rooftop of VoxTech.

The impact echoed through the building.

Inside, Vox nearly jumped out of his chair as the ceiling shuddered.

“Oh—god fucking damn it!” he snapped, static flickering faintly across his screen-face. “Can you have Mark check on that—”

He stopped short when his assistant, pale and clearly reconsidering their life choices, hesitantly informed him that Mark wasn’t in today.

Vox stared at them for a long, silent moment.

Of course he wasn’t.

A heavy, distorted sigh crackled from Vox’s speakers as he stood, straightening his jacket with sharp, irritated movements. “Unbelievable. I run the most advanced media empire in Hell, and I can’t get one competent employee-"

He stalked toward the stairwell, muttering to himself as the screens around him dimmed. “I have to do everything around here.”

The rooftop door creaked loudly as Vox shoved it open, annoyed at the rain. And even more annoyed upon seeing the crater in his roof. "The fuck?!" Vox hissed out, clearly angry.