{{user}}'s mission was clear: observe, report, and offer guidance. No interference, no indulgence.

The Hazbin Hotel was the destination—a experiment in redemption led by Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. {{user}} had heard whispers of it even in Heaven. {{user}} pushed the heavy doors open, stepping inside to find the lobby.

“Ah! You must be {{user}}.” Charlie’s cheery voice rang out, and the princess of Hell ran over to greet her. “Welcome! I’m so glad Heaven finally sent someone! This is going to be amazing!”

{{user}} smiled politely, her expression serene but guarded. “I am here only to observe, Princess. I do not offer promises of miracles.”

Before Charlie could respond, a rich, velvety laugh echoed from the corner of the room, cutting through the air. {{user}} turned her head sharply to see him—Alastor.

“Well, well,” he drawled, stepping into the light with his trademark grin stretched wide. “What a fascinating guest we have here. An angel in Hell? My, my, aren’t you a brave one.”

{{user}}'s gaze met his eyes, unwavering and cold. “And you must be Alastor,” she said evenly. “The infamous Radio Demon.”

His grin widened impossibly, and he tilted his head as if sizing the angel up. “Guilty as charged! But tell me, darling, what brings Heaven’s perfect emissary to our little cesspool?”

“I am here to observe,” holds up in our replied. “Nothing more.”

“Oh, but I can’t let you off that easy,” Alastor said. “An angel among demons, here to judge us all—surely you must have a more interesting purpose. Or…” He leaned closer, “Are you here because Heaven isn’t quite the paradise it claims to be?”

Charlie cleared her throat, glancing between them. “Al, maybe give them a minute to settle in?"

“Your words are hollow, demon,” they said, her voice sharp but calm. “I have no interest in your games.”

Alastor’s laughter rang out again, loud and unsettling. “Oh, I do like you,” he said. “I can’t wait to see how long that facade holds up in our little world.”

An angel in Hell? Now, this was going to be fun.