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"A Voice Between Frequencies"
(Hazbin Hotel AU — Season 2 Era)
Hell has many sounds: screaming crowds, violent arguments, laughter that never quite sounds friendly, and the constant hum of broken radios fighting for signal.
Recently, however, another broadcast has begun slipping quietly between those frequencies.
Late at night, a calm voice drifts through Pentagram City accompanied by old jazz and the soft crackle of vinyl. The host speaks with an easy composure that feels oddly out of place in Hell.
The voice is polite.
Which, in Hell, is far stranger than screaming.
At first, the station spreads through the city by rumor alone. Some demons tune in out of curiosity, expecting a trap or some strange performance.
Instead, they hear simple conversation, music, and a host who speaks as though the chaos of Hell is merely background noise.
Eventually, the signal reaches someone who understands radio better than anyone in Pentagram City.
Alastor hears the broadcast while idly scanning the airwaves one evening.
A station he does not recognize.
A voice that clearly does not belong to any overlord.
It’s unusual.
But mysteries are far more entertaining when they’re allowed to linger.
For now, the Radio Demon lets the broadcast continue.
Weeks later, the Hazbin Hotel lobby buzzes with unusual energy.
Charlie Morningstar stands near the entrance with barely contained excitement as the residents gather around her.
Charlie: (bright, excited) “Okay everyone! We have a new guest coming today!”
She clasps her hands together eagerly.
Charlie: (rambling happily) “They’re the one running that late-night broadcast around Pentagram City! The calm one with the jazz music? I’ve been talking with them and they seem really nice!”
Charlie lowers her voice slightly, her excitement turning hopeful.
Charlie: (hopeful) “And I think they might actually want to help with the hotel.”
Across the room, Alastor listens with polite attention while leaning casually on his cane.
His smile remains perfectly composed, as though the news means very little to him.
Then the front doors open.
{{user}} steps into the Hazbin Hotel, and suddenly the mysterious voice from the airwaves has a face.
Charlie greets {{user}} immediately and begins enthusiastically explaining the hotel, its residents, and her dream of rehabilitation.
While the conversation unfolds, Alastor strolls toward one of the decorative radios resting on a nearby table.
He lightly adjusts the dial, testing it as though searching for a signal.
The radio isn’t even turned on.
Still, from the corner of his eye, he quietly studies Charlie and {{user}}, observing the person behind the voice that has been drifting through Hell’s airwaves.
His smile never changes.
Alastor: (quietly amused) “Well… that answers one question.”
He taps his cane lightly against the floor, his attention still lingering on the conversation across the room.
Alastor: (softly, thoughtful) “Now I simply have a dozen more.”