The next morning, Max stood in front of his mirror, adjusting the collar of a crisp black shirt.
His tail flicked behind him in restless arcs, tapping the floor with soft thuds. The room was quiet except for the faint hum of Hell's ambient noise leaking through the walls — distant screams, laughter, and the low pulse of a city that never truly slept.
Today wasn't normal.
Today was his debut.
The first time he would stand in front of the Overlords as one of them.
He wanted to look composed.
He wanted to look powerful.
He mostly wanted to avoid being murdered on arrival.
He reached for his cuff links.
The shadows behind him bubbled.
A grin appeared in the mirror.
Too wide.
Too sharp.
Alastor rose from Max's shadow like oil seeping through cracks.
"My, my," the Radio Demon sang. "Going to a meeting looking like that? Oh dear boy, no. You must command fear! You must radiate terror! Otherwise they'll devour you alive."
Max didn't flinch.
"Good morning, Alastor."
Alastor circled him slowly, boots making no sound on the floor.
"Good morning indeed," he purred. "Or perhaps… good luck."
Max raised an eyebrow.
"Comforting."
Alastor tugged at Max's jacket with claws that didn't quite touch reality.
"This outfit lacks menace," he declared. "An Overlord must be unforgettable. Intimidation is currency."
Max smirked faintly.
"You sound almost friendly today."
Alastor stopped.
Turned.
His smile stayed.
Something beneath it didn't.
"…Why would you say that?" he asked quietly.
Max held his gaze.
"Because you don't remember me."
Static crackled in the air.
The temperature dropped.
"…What do you mean?"
Max shook his head.
"Nothing important."
Three seconds passed.
Long ones.
Then the cheer returned like a switch flipped.
"Oh well!" Alastor laughed. "Regardless! I'm offering advice. Overlords tear each other apart for territory. You, however… threaten no empire. You're unattached. A delightful anomaly."
"Because I'm backed by Bee and Ozzie," Max said.
"And engaged to the Morningstar princess," Alastor added, grin rippling. "Which makes you politically radioactive. How delicious."
Max finished his cuffs.
"Still weird you're helping."
Alastor chuckled.
"I would never harm Charlie," he said lightly. "And harming her fiancé would upset her terribly. I'm protective… in my own fashion."
"For now," Max muttered.
"For now," Alastor echoed.
Max stepped back.
Shadows swallowed him.
His skin darkened like cooling stone. His ribs shifted beneath the surface like armor plates sliding into place. A wolfish silhouette emerged, eyes glowing red, fangs bared in silent promise.
His Aura of Despair flooded the room.
Invisible weight.
Suffocating gravity.
Alastor's eyes lit up.
"YES!" he applauded. "That is presence!"
Max dispelled the form.
"Don't drool," he said.
Alastor laughed — and vanished into static.
A knock followed.
Charlie and Vaggie stood outside.
Charlie bright. Vaggie tired but steady.
"Good morning!" Charlie chirped. "We need help!"
Max stepped aside.
"What's up?"
"We're training Sir Pentious," Charlie explained. "Teamwork! Exercise! Growth!"
Max winced apologetically.
"Can't. Overlord meeting."
Vaggie froze.
Her eyes locked on the book.
"…Is that…?"
Max sighed.
No point hiding it.
"Hells' Registry," he said, summoning it. The tome floated forward, ancient and breathing. "With permission, it answers questions about anyone in Hell."
Charlie gasped.
"Anyone?"
"Anyone," Max confirmed. "But it won't tell you how to redeem them."
Charlie hesitated.
Then smiled softly.
"You."
Max stiffened.
"…Alright."
She touched the book.
The pages exploded into motion.
Wind howled between the covers.
Text burned into place.
SINNER: Max MarkofAge at Death: 21Contracts With: God, Entity, Charlie, Vaggie, Loona, Beelzebub, Octavia
Killed By: Knife to the back of the spine
Sins in Life:• Murder• Stealing• Brainwashing• Lying• Drug use• Drug distribution
Charlie closed the book slowly.
Her hands trembled.
"Oh… Max…"
He smiled lightly.
"Big gang," he said. "Tried to leave. Got stabbed for it. End of story."
The room felt heavier.
"I've got a meeting," he added quickly. "You two can stay. Don't break anything. Room's empty in case we share it someday."
Charlie went red.
Vaggie looked away instantly.
Max vanished.
Silence settled.
Charlie sat on his bed, fingers tracing the fabric.
"He went through so much," she whispered. "I didn't know."
Vaggie leaned against the wall.
"Everyone here did terrible things," she said gently. "You can't measure him by a list."
Charlie shook her head.
"I'm not scared of him," she said quickly. "I'm sad he was alone."
Vaggie softened.
Sat beside her.
"He's not alone now."
Charlie smiled faintly.
"He has us."
A pause.
"I want to know more," Charlie admitted quietly. "But the book won't open."
"It's bound to him," Vaggie said. "Literally."
Charlie frowned.
"Do you think he's ashamed?"
"Yes," Vaggie answered immediately.
Charlie sighed.
"I don't want to hurt him."
"Then don't pry," Vaggie said gently. "He'll talk when ready."
Charlie leaned into her.
"…We might share this room someday," she whispered.
Vaggie groaned.
"Charlie please—"
Charlie laughed and hugged her.
Vaggie hugged back, smiling despite herself.