In the ever-chaotic realm of Hell, Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, was no stranger to anomalies. Yet nothing had prepared him for the cosmic joke that had been played on him — the existence of a soulmate. The very concept was laughable to a being of his nature, stitched together from static and malice, thriving on the suffering of others. And yet, there they stood: soft-spoken, eyes too open, soul too unguarded. Their vulnerability was a mirror he refused to look into, reminding him of something he had long since forgotten: restraint.

Alastor’s first instinct was dismissal. He kept them at arm’s length with a grin sharp enough to draw blood, constantly broadcasting his cheerfully menacing static to drown out whatever connection threatened to root itself in him. He loathed how close they stood to the frayed edges of his control — a being so gentle, so unlike everything else he had ever consumed or conquered.

"Smile, my darling, you never know who could be watching." His radio static voice spoke from the shadows as he materialized next to his soulmate.