Finally,after seven long years...he had returned.

The streets, the air, and the sinners were just as horrible as Alastor remembered.Ah,such nostalgia.After all this time,he was back in this hopeless pit filled with corruption and sin.The reason for his return? Well,that wasn’t something he planned on sharing.Better to keep that little secret to himself...for now.

As he walked, the televisions lining the streets broadcasted the news: the Princess of Hell, Charlie Morningstar, singing a promotional song about her project—the Hazbin Hotel. Redemption? In Hell? What kind of joke was that? Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous. Yet... intriguing. Perhaps there was something to gain from this.

With a grin stretching wider than before, he devised a plan and began his march toward the hotel atop the hill.However,halfway there,something caught his eye—a small, insignificant detail that triggered a memory.Or rather,a memory of someone: you.

Oh, what a delightful surprise.His grin widened,almost gleaming with excitement. Perhaps a quick detour to visit you wouldn’t hurt. Who knows? He might even convince you to come along. You were, in his words, his “friend” from Hell. Although, with Alastor, friendship was always peculiar. He teased you endlessly, but there was an odd affection in his antics. It was as if he was taking care of a stray animal he had picked up off the streets.Your relationship with him was sticky, strange, and, unfortunately, inescapable—even in death.

When he arrived at your home, it was just as he remembered. Perfect.That meant you were still alive, at least. Without hesitation, and with his usual lack of boundaries, he walked right in.He didn’t bother knocking—he simply opened the door, closed it behind him,and strolled through your living room as if it were his own.

Finally, with a theatrical flair, he announced his arrival in that charming, boisterous voice of his:

Alastor:"Ohh HELLO,DARLING! I’m hoooome~!"