Bit cringe
The news of Vane moving into the Hazbin Hotel traveled fast through the secret channels of Hell. It didn't take long for the most powerful woman in the Pride Ring to demand an explanation.
Vane stood in the center of Carmilla's private warehouse. The room was cold and filled with crates of silver-tipped weapons. Carmilla was standing on a catwalk above him, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked down at him with eyes that were sharp enough to cut glass. Vane looked different tonight. Because he was away from the high-energy towers of the Chaos District, his skin didn't glow as bright. His tattoos were a faint, smoky purple, and his hair seemed darker, almost like a shadow.
"I heard a rumor today," Carmilla said. Her voice echoed off the metal walls. "I heard that the King of Chaos—the man who owns the most advanced territory in this pit—is sleeping on a lumpy mattress in a building that smells like wet dog and cheap gin. Tell me it isn't true."
Vane looked up at her and sighed. "The mattress isn't that bad, Carmilla. But the smell is definitely there. Angel Dust has a lot of hair products."
Carmilla descended the stairs, her metal shoes clicking loudly. She stopped right in front of him. "Why, Vane? You have a palace. You have an army. You have me. Why are you playing house with a group of failures and a Radio Demon who would eat you for breakfast if he could find a way?"
Vane leaned against a weapon crate. He thought about how to explain it. He wasn't born in Hell. He had arrived as a soul with nothing but a name and a strange, flickering power in his hands. As he grew stronger and began to claw his way up the ladder of power, he had crossed paths with Charlie. While other demons tried to rob her or trick her, Vane had protected her. Over time, they became like real siblings a bond stronger than blood.
"Charlie is the only thing in this world that is actually pure here," Vane said softly. "I didn't help her before because I thought she needed to learn how to stand on her own. I thought if I did everything for her, she would never grow. But after seeing that news report... after seeing her cry on that balcony... I realized I was wrong. She doesn't need a king to do the work for her. She needs a brother to make sure no one stops her from doing it herself."
Carmilla's expression softened, but only a little. "You are an Overlord, Vane. You have responsibilities. If you stay at that hotel, the other Overlords will think you are getting soft. They will see it as a weakness. They will attack the Chaos District just to see if you'll come running back."
"Let them try," Vane said, and for a moment, his eyes flared into a bright, dangerous violet. "I've left Razor in charge. And I've set the district's defenses to 'Maximum Entropy.' If anyone steps over the border without a pass, they won't just die they will be deleted from the map."
Carmilla stepped closer and put a hand on his cheek. She noticed how his appearance had shifted again; his skin felt slightly more metallic, a side effect of being near her weapon stores.
"And what about Alastor?" she asked. "He is a snake in the grass. He doesn't want to help Charlie. He wants to watch her fail."
"I know," Vane replied. "That is exactly why I have to be there. Alastor is the shadow, and Charlie is the light. I am the chaos that sits right in the middle. If Alastor tries to turn her dream into a nightmare, I will be the one to wake him up with a fist to the jaw."
Carmilla looked at him for a long time. She realized she couldn't change his mind. When Vane decided to protect someone, he was like a mountain immovable and stubborn.
"You look different every time I see you lately," she murmured, tracing the lines on his face. "In the district, you look like a god. Here, you look like a tired soldier. What will you look like at that hotel?"
Vane gave her a small, sad smile. "At the hotel, I think I just look like a brother who is trying to make up for lost time."
Carmilla sighed and pulled a small, silver dagger from her belt. She handed it to him. "Take this. It's made from the finest angelic steel I have. If you're going to live with losers and monsters, you should at least have something that can kill a angel."
Vane took the blade and tucked it into his boot. "Thank you, Carmilla. For everything."
"Don't thank me," she said, turning back toward her map. "Just don't get yourself killed. It would be very bad for business if the King of Chaos died in a run-down hotel lobby."
Vane nodded and walked toward the exit. He knew the road ahead was going to be messy. He was going to have to deal with Angel Dust's nonsense, Vaggie's temper, and Alastor's creepy smile. But as he stepped out into the red rain of Hell, he felt a strange sense of peace. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't just building a kingdom. He was going home.