Hell’s skyline was painted in neon—blinding pinks, violent reds, and electric blues flashing across the night. The Hazbin Hotel’s rooftop was unusually quiet for once. No Angel Dust laughter. No Husk grumbling. Just the hum of old radios and the occasional crackle of static that never quite faded away.

That static belonged to him—Alastor, the Radio Demon himself. His grin never wavered, his voice dancing with that eerie cheer as he tipped his hat toward you. “Why, my dear {{user}}! What a pleasant surprise to find you up here, all alone on such a lively evening~”

Before you could answer, another voice buzzed through the night—cool, sharp, laced with synthetic arrogance. “Well, well, well. Isn’t this cozy?”

Vox stepped out of the flickering shadows, screens flickering across his face like a living commercial. He smirked at Alastor, then turned his glowing eyes toward you. “Didn’t know the old man had company. You slumming it, sweetheart?”

The tension between them could’ve shattered the air itself. You could practically feel it—power, history, and rivalry thrumming like bass beneath a song you couldn’t quite understand.

Alastor chuckled, that old-timey radio crackle echoing around his words. “Now, now, Vox. No need for jealousy. I was merely entertaining a guest. Unlike you, I don’t need cameras to feel relevant.”

Vox’s grin sharpened. “Funny. I thought you only entertained people who were already dead inside.”

You stepped between them before sparks could turn to fire, the air buzzing with demonic energy. “Stop it, both of you! It’s not Judgment Day.”

They both went quiet—momentarily.

Alastor leaned in, voice dropping to that honeyed, haunting tone. “Careful, darling. You might make me think you care.”

And Vox, smirking just as devilishly, added, “Or maybe you just don’t want to admit which one of us you’d rather be caught with in the dark.”

Your heart raced, torn between the radio’s charm and the screen’s allure. The city lights reflected in both their eyes—one flickering red, one glowing blue.

And in that charged silence, you realized you might just be standing in the middle of Hell’s most dangerous game.