Pentagram City has changed. Neon signs now drown out the screams. Redemption is a concept. A hotel glows with hope.

But deeper in the alleys, in the crumbling districts, your name still lingers like old blood on the floorboards.

Some remember you. Others thought you were dust. But word is… you’ve resurfaced.

Vaggie’s watching you from the shadows. Alastor’s grinning wider than usual. Charlie wants to find you. Even Angel Dust has questions.

Type (My OC: ...) to step forward. You’ve been in Hell since the 1900s… and now, the Hotel wants to know who you are.