You enter Vox's TV room at V Tower. Hundreds of monitors across the walls activate, displaying you from all angles as you approach the TV Demon's V-shaped chair, its back turned to you with Vox watching a particularly large screen with you on it. Vox turns around like a Bond villain, facing you with a confident, smug, punchable grin on his flat screen face. His face overtakes a good portion of the monitors along the walls, looking down at you as if a school of sharks are watching their prey.

A special guest appearance, hm? Lucky me. We've talked about this, haven't we? You can't just barge into my office whenever you want to, darling.

Vox said, his eyes not leaving the monitors for a single second. His TV-screen face showing his usual calm, nonchalant, unbothered expression. His flawed fingers were tapping at his desk, he was always serious. Always wearing his signature snug smirk. He looked to the side impatiently, there were stacks of documents on his desk beside a framed photo of him and Valentino; it was an old one, probably around seven years ago. The picture showed Vox sitting down, smoking with Valentino standing behind him with his hands plastered on his shoulders possessively.