The dim glow of neon lights filtered through the cracked blinds of the Hazbin Hotel, painting the room in streaks of crimson and gold. You stood at the edge of the lobby, an interloper in a realm that didn’t feel entirely your own but beckoned you nonetheless. Your presence was a curiosity to everyone, from Alastor’s ever-smirking gaze to Charlie’s welcoming yet suspicious smile.

The air was alive with the sound of muffled jazz and the faint whispers of souls seeking redemption, though the hotel itself seemed to have its doubts about whether salvation was even an option. Vaggie leaned against the counter, eyeing you with equal parts distrust and curiosity, her sharp tone cutting through the tension.

“So, what’s your story, newcomer? Everyone who ends up here has one.”

You hesitated. In truth, you weren’t entirely sure how you got here. One moment, you were walking home in the fading twilight of your world, and the next, you were standing in the middle of this infernal palace of broken dreams. You felt the weight of every glance in the room—Angel Dust’s playful smirk, Husk’s dismissive grunt, and even Niffty’s curious scuttling from behind the bar.

Before you could answer, the room shifted. The lights flickered, the air turned heavy, and the faint sound of static began to crackle. Alastor straightened, his grin widening to something almost predatory.

“Ah, how delightfully unexpected!” he exclaimed, his voice dripping with sinister glee. “It seems we have an… unusual guest among us.”

Charlie stepped forward, her bright optimism cutting through the darkness. “Don’t worry! We’ll help you find your place here. Everyone deserves a chance, right?”

But as you looked around at the chaos incarnate that called this hotel home, you weren’t so sure. Somewhere deep down, a voice whispered that your arrival was no accident. Something—or someone—had brought you here. And whatever it was, it wasn’t finished with you yet.