I had planned to stay for one hour.
That was what I had repeated to myself when I entered the Hazbin Hotel, what I had implicitly confirmed to Charlie when I agreed to her visit, and what I still had in mind when I looked at the clock in the lobby for the first time.
Almost two hours later, I was still there.
The worst part was that no one was keeping me there.
Charlie had not locked the doors, Vaggie was not watching me with a weapon, and Alastor had not signed some obscure contract forcing me to remain until sunset.
If I had wanted to leave, all I had to do was cross the lobby, find my car, and go home.
And yet I had accepted another cup of coffee.
That was a worrying sign.
I had settled into an armchair slightly away from the center of the large common room, one leg crossed over the other, while Charlie moved several chairs with Vaggie’s help.
My lieutenant had been standing behind me for nearly half an hour with the remarkable patience of a funeral monument, even though Niffty had already made three passes around him to check, in her own words, “if he was still just as creepy when you looked at him from another angle.”
Apparently, the answer was yes.
Angel Dust, meanwhile, had managed to sprawl across a couch so spectacularly that he occupied enough space for three people all by himself.
Husk watched the scene from his bar with a bottle in his hand and the tired expression of someone who had seen this kind of disaster too many times to still hope he could escape it.
Charlie, on the other hand, was glowing.
“So!” she announced as she finished positioning the last chair.
“I thought we could do something simple today, because Tanya is here and it would be nice to show her a concrete example of what we’re trying to do here, but nothing too complicated either because we already tried the cross-truth exercise last week and it went a little badly, especially when Angel decided that personal questions included everyone’s sexual preferences, which really wasn’t the point, even though technically it did create dialogue, just not the kind of dialogue I had imagined…”
Vaggie stopped behind a chair and closed her eyes for a second.
“Charlie.”
“Yes?”
“The point of the exercise.”
Charlie blinked as if she had just remembered that the rest of the room had not been following the exact thread of her thoughts.
“Ah!
Yes.
Of course.”
She turned toward us with a huge smile.
“Cooperation and trust.”
Angel raised one hand without moving from the couch.
“I already have an objection.”
Charlie barely had time to frown.
“You don’t even know the rules yet.”
“Exactly.
I want it on record beforehand.
That way, when everything goes to shit, I can say I warned you.”
Husk took a drink.
“For once, he’s got a point.”
Charlie crossed her arms.
“You could at least try to be a little positive.”
“I am positive,” Husk replied, setting down his glass.
“I’m positive this is gonna go to shit.”
Angel gave him an approving gesture.
I calmly drank my coffee.
Charlie looked toward me, clearly searching for support.
I looked at her, then at Angel, and finally at Husk.
“I would prefer to know the rules before choosing a side.”
Vaggie gave a small smile.
Charlie seemed to consider that answer encouraging enough.
“Okay.
So, the idea is simple.
You’ll have to complete a task as a team, but with a restriction that forces each person to depend on the others.”
Angel sat up slightly.
“What kind of restriction?”
Charlie picked up a small box sitting on the table and opened it.
Inside were several blindfolds.
Angel stared at the box, then at Charlie.
His gaze went back and forth between the two for a good ten seconds.
“Oh no.”
“It’s just for your eyes.”
“That’s always what they say at the beginning.”
Vaggie immediately raised a finger.
“Do not finish that sentence.”
Angel displayed an innocent smile that fooled absolutely no one.
Charlie continued as though nothing had happened.
“One person will be blindfolded, another will have to guide them verbally, and a third will have to move certain objects to create a path.
The goal is to show that you can move forward when everyone trusts the others and accepts that they can’t control everything by themselves.”
I looked at the blindfolds.
Then at the small improvised setup she had prepared in the room: a few chairs, two moved tables, cushions on the floor, and several objects placed as obstacles.
It was not particularly sophisticated, nor was it completely stupid.
Which, in this hotel, already represented a statistical victory.
“And who goes first?” Vaggie asked.
Charlie checked a small piece of paper.
“Angel, Husk, and Niffty.”
Husk put down his bottle.
“No.”
Charlie sighed.
“Husk…”
“I heard you.
My answer’s still no.”
“You haven’t even tried.”
“That’s exactly why I’m still in a good mood.”
Angel finally got up from the couch and placed two of his hands on his hips.
“Oh, come on, old man.
It could be fun.”
Husk glared at him.
“Every time you say that, someone ends up naked, injured, or chased by the cops.”
Angel raised a finger.
“Not always in that order.”
I nearly swallowed my coffee the wrong way.
Vaggie noticed my reaction and looked away to hide her own smile.
Charlie seemed caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to bring everyone back under control.
“Can we try to stay focused for five minutes?”
Niffty suddenly appeared behind Husk.
“I want the blindfold!”
Husk jumped so violently he almost knocked over his bottle.
“Fucking hell, Niffty!”
She had already grabbed a blindfold and was trying to tie it around her single eye.
“I can’t see anything!
This is great!”
She immediately took three steps in the wrong direction and hit a chair.
Charlie grabbed her shoulders before she could fall.
“Wait, wait!
We haven’t started yet.”
Niffty straightened enthusiastically.
“Now?”
“No.”
“Now?”
“Still no.”
“Now?”
Charlie took a deep breath.
I turned my head slightly toward my lieutenant.
“If she asks you to participate, refuse.”
“Understood, Commander.”
Niffty heard perfectly well.
She spun toward him despite the blindfold.
“Why?!”
I looked at her.
“Because I would like to get my lieutenant back in working condition.”
“Hehe, I can be gentle!”
Angel burst out laughing.
Husk muttered something into his glass that I preferred not to hear.
It took Charlie several more minutes to organize the roles.
Niffty kept the blindfold and Angel was assigned to guide her.
Husk had to move certain obstacles according to Angel’s instructions, which displeased him enough that he first demanded another drink.
When everyone was finally in position, Charlie stepped away from the course and raised both hands.
“Alright!
Remember: clear communication, trust, and cooperation.”
Angel looked at Niffty.
“Walk straight ahead.”
Niffty immediately went left.
“Go right now »
She abruptly corrected her path and hit the edge of a table.
Husk looked up at the ceiling.
“This is gonna take forever.”
Charlie clenched her teeth.
“Angel, be more precise.”
“Alright, Princess.
Niffty, turn thirty degrees to your right.”
Niffty spun almost completely around.
Angel stared at her.
“How the fuck did you turn one-eighty from thirty?”
“I like big numbers!”
I placed my cup on the armrest.
I still did not know whether I was witnessing a rehabilitation experiment or a study on the limits of patience.
Husk eventually moved a chair out of the way and told Angel he could continue.
Angel guided Niffty for several more meters before beginning to take his role more seriously, probably because he had realized the exercise could actually be finished faster if he stopped sabotaging every step.
For almost a minute, everything worked.
Then Niffty tripped over a cushion no one had noticed, sending her pitching forward.
Angel moved before Charlie even had time to react.
Two of his arms closed around Niffty and caught her just before she hit the corner of a table.
The silence lasted less than a second, and Angel immediately put her back on her feet.
“Fuck, you little psycho, at least try not to crack your skull open before we’re done.
I don’t wanna clean your brains off the carpet.”
Niffty ripped off her blindfold.
“You caught me!”
Angel stepped back slightly.
“Yeah, well, you were about to fall on me too.
I was mostly protecting my jacket.”
He mechanically smoothed the fabric of his sleeve.
Charlie was looking at him with that expression I had already learned to recognize.
A huge smile was beginning to appear.
Angel saw it.
“Oh, no.
No.”
Charlie opened her mouth.
“Angel…”
“No.
Don’t do that.”
“But you just—”
“I said no.” He pointed a finger at her.
“If you turn this into some fucking emotional moment, I’m leaving.”
Charlie closed her mouth.
But she was still smiling.
Angel grumbled something, then returned to the couch.
I followed him with my eyes.
Interesting.
Not because he had stopped Niffty from falling.
Even a perfectly selfish individual could act that way out of reflex, proximity, or simply a desire to avoid complications.
What interested me more was the way he had immediately tried to minimize what he had done.
As if he refused to let the others attribute any positive intention to him.
I looked at Charlie, who was still watching Angel.
Then I saw her take out her notebook and scribble something down.
I raised an eyebrow.
“What are you writing?”
Charlie looked up.
“That the exercise worked!”
I looked at the course, where a chair had been knocked over.
Niffty had abandoned her blindfold.
Husk had gone back to drinking after pulling a new bottle from who knew where.
And Angel now refused to participate.
I looked back at her.
“Princess, your exercise failed.”
Her smile faded slightly.
“But Angel helped Niffty.”
“Yes.”
“So it still created something.”
I rose from my chair, picked up my cup, and walked closer.
“Maybe.
But that isn’t the same thing.
Your stated objective was to see whether they could complete a task through cooperation.
They did not complete the task, so on that specific point, the exercise was a failure.”
Charlie lowered her eyes toward her notebook.
Vaggie came closer as well, but she did not seem upset.
She was simply waiting for the rest.
I continued more calmly.
“On the other hand, Angel reacted spontaneously when an unexpected problem occurred.
No one asked him to help Niffty, you promised him no reward, and he did not have enough time to calculate what he might gain from it.
That is probably more interesting than the course itself.”
Charlie quickly raised her head.
“So you think it’s progress?”
I noticed the switch to first-name terms, but decided not to mention it.
“I think it’s data.
To call it progress, you would need to compare it with his previous behavior and see whether that kind of reaction becomes more frequent.”
Charlie was already opening her notebook to a new page.
I could see her mind accelerating before she even started speaking.
“So I could create some kind of tracking system, not necessarily with grades like at school because I really don’t want them to feel like they’re being judged all the time, but more like observing spontaneous behavior, moments when they help someone or make a different decision than they would have before, and maybe compare it over several weeks to see if there’s a trend and—”
I raised a hand.
She stopped.
“General observation.”
Charlie blinked.
“Yes?”
“No hidden cameras in the bedrooms.”
Her eyes widened in horror.
“What?!
I wasn’t going to do that!”
“I prefer to clarify before your enthusiasm develops technological ambitions.”
Vaggie burst out laughing.
Charlie looked at her with a pout.
“You could defend me.”
“Not when she’s right.”
“But I really wasn’t going to install cameras!”
Angel raised one hand from the couch.
“Personally, if you wanna film my room, you gotta pay for the premium subscription.”
Charlie turned bright red.
“ANGEL!”
Husk slammed his glass onto the counter to keep himself from laughing into it.
Even my lieutenant turned his head slightly toward Angel.
I took another sip of coffee.
I had to admit one thing.
This place was exhausting, but rarely boring.
Charlie then decided that a short break was necessary.
I suspected Vaggie had suggested the idea after realizing that half the group now refused to go anywhere near the course.
I took the opportunity to head toward the bar.
Husk saw me coming and placed a cup in front of him before I had even sat down.
“Coffee?”
I looked at the cup.
“You learn quickly.”
“I’ve mostly seen what you’ve been drinking since you got here.”
I sat down on a stool.
“Remarkable observational skills.
Charlie should hire you for her statistics.”
He grunted.
“Keep me outta her bullshit.”
He filled my cup before putting the coffee pot back.
I tasted it.
The taste was rather…
decent.
Not exceptional, far from it.
But decent compared to what I had already tried in Hell.
“It’s better than the coffee in most bars in Pentagram City.”
Husk gave me a suspicious look.
“Is that a compliment?”
“Enjoy it.
They’re rare.”
He shrugged and poured himself a drink.
For a few moments, we remained silent.
The calm almost felt good.
Behind us, Charlie was quietly explaining something to Vaggie.
Angel had gone back to talking with Niffty as if the previous incident had never happened.
I slowly turned my cup between my hands.
“I heard your name long before today.”
Husk barely froze.
Just enough for me to notice before he went back to his “work.”
“Yeah?”
“You were an Overlord.”
He took a drink.
“I used to be a lotta things.”
His voice had changed.
Not much, but the message was clear.
I could continue, and he would probably answer out of social obligation, not because he wanted to.
I looked at the bottles behind him.
“Long story?”
He gave a humorless chuckle.
“Very long.”
I took a sip.
“I have time.”
Husk lifted his bottle.
“I don’t have enough booze.”
I smiled slightly.
“Then keep the story.”
He turned his head toward me.
For a second, his expression seemed genuinely surprised.
“That’s it?”
“Were you expecting an interrogation?”
“People like knowing how someone goes from Overlord to bartender.
Makes ’em feel better about their own shitty lives.”
I set my cup down.
“Your past does not belong to me.
If you ever feel like talking about it, you will.
If not, I will survive perfectly well without the details.”
Husk looked at me for a few more seconds before looking away.
“You’re weird.”
“I’ve been told.”
“Thought all the old Overlords were fucking nosy.”
“Curiosity and intrusiveness are two different things.”
He raised his glass toward me.
“That, I can respect.”
I did the same with my cup and we drank.
This conversation suited me far better than Charlie’s enthusiastic speeches, although I had to admit it lacked slightly too much chaos to meet the hotel’s usual standards.
Husk looked toward the lobby.
“So?”
“So what?”
“You still think Charlie’s completely nuts?”
I followed his gaze.
Charlie was kneeling near the course with Vaggie, trying to put the obstacles back in place.
She was talking at the same time, obviously.
Her hands accompanied every sentence, and Vaggie occasionally nodded before moving a chair.
“Yes.”
Husk let out a rough laugh.
“At least you’re direct and consistent.”
“The fact that she is probably insane does not necessarily mean she is wrong.”
This time, he really looked at me.
“That’s new.”
“I didn’t say she was right either.”
“Yeah, I got that.”
He emptied his glass.
“But she really believes in all this.”
I already knew that.
If it was all just a lie and theater, then she would easily win every award without even trying.
Still, coming from Husk, the statement carried a different weight.
He had no reason to convince me, and he did not even seem to particularly believe in redemption himself.
“Do you?”
His face closed off slightly.
“In what?
Heaven?
Becoming a better fucking citizen?”
“Her project.”
Husk took a few seconds before answering.
“Honestly?
I don’t know.”
He looked at Charlie.
“But she believes in it.
And she keeps going even when we tell her it’s stupid, even when it doesn’t work, even when everyone makes fun of her.”
He poured himself another drink.
“Maybe that’s worth something.”
I did not answer immediately.
Yes.
Maybe.
Only time would tell for certain.
“So, seriously…
how old are you?”
I closed my eyes.
My peaceful conversation with Husk had lasted exactly four minutes and twenty-seven seconds.
Angel had just settled onto the stool to my right, both elbows resting on the counter and a far too satisfied smile on his face.
“Hello to you too.”
“Hey, doll.
Now answer.”
Husk grunted.
“Let her drink her coffee.”
Angel gave him an offended look.
“I’m socializing.
Ain’t that supposed to be good for redemption?”
“Not like that.”
Angel turned his attention back toward me.
“Come on.
‘Cause you look like a fifteen-year-old kid, you talk like a rich grandma, and apparently you’ve been in Hell since before half the shit in this bar was invented.”
I calmly took a sip.
“Your question lacks precision.”
Angel blinked.
“Huh?”
“Do you want to know my physical age, my mental age, or the cumulative total of my different lives?”
Angel fell silent.
So did Husk.
I looked at both of them.
It was probably the first time since my arrival that I had managed to silence Angel Dust without a threat.
He slowly straightened.
“Fuck.”
I hid my smile behind the cup.
“A reasonable reaction.”
“Wait, wait, wait.
Different lives?
Like…
reincarnation?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?!
How the fuck can you answer maybe about your own fucking reincarnation?”
“Because I never received official documentation.”
Angel stared at me.
Then he looked at Husk with a shocked expression.
“Is she fucking with me?”
Husk shrugged.
“Probably a little.”
“I demand answers.”
“You will receive almost none.”
Angel placed a hand against his chest.
“That’s cruel.”
“We are in Hell.”
“Oh, she learns fast!”
I turned my head slightly toward him.
“I have been here for several decades.”
Angel opened his mouth.
Then closed it while his brain finally caught up.
“Shit, that’s right.”
Husk started laughing.
Angel glared at him.
“You, shut up.”
“You’re the one asking dumb questions.”
Angel stayed for another few minutes.
The conversation drifted toward my appearance, my uniform, and then toward the question of whether my soldiers could have sex, a question my lieutenant answered himself with a very calm “No” when Angel tried asking him directly.
Angel seemed almost disappointed.
I was not certain I wanted to understand why.
Still, behind his constant provocations, he was surprisingly good at reading other people’s reactions.
Whenever he approached a genuinely sensitive subject, he changed direction before I needed to ask him.
That detail interested me more than his jokes and his playing the provocateur.
He was not completely oblivious.
I did not see Alastor arrive.
I simply noticed that his voice was suddenly to my left.
“So, my dear, is this little experiment meeting your expectations?”
I turned my head and saw him leaning against the bar, his cane resting in front of him, with that smile that seemed incapable of leaving his face.
Angel sighed.
“And here comes the other psycho.”
Alastor gave him only a brief glance.
“Charming as ever, my dear Angel.”
“Go fuck yourself, Bambi.”
Alastor laughed.
Husk, meanwhile, grabbed his bottle and moved a few steps away.
I noticed the gesture.
Hmm.
Another interesting piece of data.
“My expectations were low enough to be difficult to disappoint,” I replied.
Alastor placed a hand against his chest.
“How cruel!
And yet you remain among us.”
“I’m curious.”
“You’ve already said that.”
His tone remained light, but the next question was much less so.
“Why?”
I looked at him.
“Why what?”
“Why devote your time to something you yourself consider highly improbable?
You have your domain, your influence, your businesses, and, from what I hear, a peace and quiet that took you decades to obtain.
And yet here you are, observing trust exercises in a hotel filled with dysfunctional sinners.”
Angel raised one hand.
“Hey!
I’m still here, just so you know.”
Alastor continued without paying him any attention.
“I find it fascinating.”
I set down my cup.
“Because improbable and impossible do not mean the same thing.”
His smile remained identical, but his eyes changed slightly.
I continued.
“Charlie claims that a damned soul could change enough to be accepted into Heaven.
I consider her chances of success low, but I have no evidence allowing me to say they are zero.
As long as the possibility exists, even theoretically, the experiment deserves to be observed.”
Alastor slowly tilted his head.
“And what do you hope to gain from it?”
“An answer.”
“Only that?”
I smiled.
“You have trouble believing an Overlord could do something without preparing a contract behind it, don’t you?”
His laughter crackled softly.
“Experience has taught me to appreciate hidden motivations.”
“Mine too.
Which is precisely why I have no reason to invent one for you.”
For several seconds, we watched each other.
Alastor straightened his cane slightly.
“You are certainly an interesting creature, Tanya.”
“I’ve already been told that today.”
“I imagine you will hear it again.”
He walked away with his eternal smile.
Angel watched him leave.
“I can never tell whether your conversations are flirting, threats, or a shareholders’ meeting.”
I turned my head toward him.
“If it makes you feel any better, neither can I.”
Husk muffled a laugh behind his bottle.
The rest of the afternoon passed faster than I would have liked.
Charlie attempted a second exercise, much simpler, requiring no blindfolds and resulting in only one serious argument.
By the standards of this establishment, I assumed that counted as a remarkable success.
I eventually agreed to stay for dinner.
Not because Charlie insisted.
Although “insisted” was not far from what had happened at my manor.
But mainly because leaving immediately would have meant crossing Pentagram City at the hour when traffic became the most chaotic, and I had no desire to spend forty minutes stuck behind a burning limousine because two gangs had decided to settle a dispute in the middle of the road.
The meal was much louder than the ones I was used to.
Angel talked with his mouth full.
Vaggie regularly told him to stop.
Niffty disappeared under the table for reasons no one seemed to want to know.
Husk ate quickly and mostly seemed to be waiting until he could return to his bar.
Charlie tried to maintain a general conversation while asking enough questions to make it feel like she was conducting three interviews at the same time.
Strangely, I had a good time.
I simply refused to analyze that too deeply.
When the meal was over, I checked the time.
Almost ten in the evening.
Well, this day had passed rather quickly.
I stood from my chair.
“It’s time for me to go home.”
Charlie immediately stopped.
“Already?”
I looked at the clock.
Then at her.
“I arrived in the early afternoon.”
“Yes, but…”
She hesitated.
I already knew that expression.
“No.”
Charlie blinked.
“I haven’t even asked anything yet.”
“You were going to offer me a room.”
Her silence confirmed my hypothesis.
Vaggie burst out laughing.
Charlie blushed slightly.
“We have several free ones.”
“Princess, I live a few hours from here.”
“I know, but it would save you the trip tonight and we could continue tomorrow morning, and I could show you the full schedule for the week because we didn’t have time to see everything today and—”
“I have a manor.”
Charlie opened her mouth.
I continued before she could start again.
“With my own bed.”
She searched for another argument, even a slightly ridiculous one.
I slightly raised my now-empty cup.
“And my coffee.”
Charlie looked at Husk.
Husk immediately shook his head.
“Keep me outta this, Princess.”
Vaggie placed a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.
“Give it up, Charlie.”
Charlie sighed.
“Okay.”
I retrieved my cape.
“That is not a criticism of your hotel.
I simply prefer sleeping at home.”
“I understand.”
She genuinely seemed to understand.
Then her smile returned.
“But you’ll come back?”
I stopped.
There was the real question.
Before answering, I looked around.
Angel was talking with Husk at the bar.
Niffty was once again near my lieutenant and was clearly trying to convince him to let her clean his boots even though they were already perfectly clean.
Alastor stood farther away, occupied with his radio.
Vaggie was looking at Charlie with an expression far softer than the one she used with the rest of the world.
And Charlie was waiting.
I still had no evidence that her project could work.
I was not even certain her methods were coherent enough to produce a measurable result.
But I wanted to know what would happen.
That simple realization surprised me more than I would have admitted.
“Probably.”
Charlie’s face lit up.
“Really?
Because next time we could—”
I immediately turned toward the door.
Vaggie burst out laughing.
“Good night, Tanya.”
“Good night, Vaggie.”
Charlie followed me to the entrance.
“Can I at least send you the schedule?”
I looked back at her.
“A summary.”
“Okay!”
“Short.”
“Yes!”
“Charlie.”
She smiled.
“I’ll try.”
That was probably the most I was going to get.
The car had been driving for almost twenty minutes when my lieutenant finally spoke.
Pentagram City was gradually disappearing behind us, and the roads were becoming quieter as we approached the outskirts.
I had settled back against the seat, my cap resting beside me, while the city’s red lights slid across the window.
“Commander?”
“Yes?”
“Was the experiment conclusive?”
I turned my head slightly toward him.
The question was precise enough to surprise me.
I looked back through the window before answering.
“No.
Not yet.”
The lieutenant waited.
I continued after a few seconds.
“But it deserves a second observation.”
“Should I plan for another visit soon?”
I thought about it.
“Not immediately.”
He tilted his head slightly.
“Understood.”
I let my gaze drift toward the receding city.
I had no intention of turning the Hazbin Hotel into a second home or spending my days participating in Charlie’s experiments.
I had a domain to manage, contracts, businesses, and a perfectly satisfying existence outside that establishment.
And yet, something there had caught my attention.
Simply a doubt.
After several decades spent in Hell, I had learned to consider certain rules almost absolute.
Sinners arrived.
They stayed.
For the unlucky ones, they died by an Exorcist’s blade.
They rarely changed for the better and, when they did, Hell generally made sure to remind them why that was a bad idea.
Charlie was trying to prove that one of those rules could be wrong.
I still did not believe she would succeed.
But for the first time since I had heard about her hotel, I was no longer certain she was completely wasting her time.
And that uncertainty was more than enough to make me come back one day.
Not tomorrow, and maybe not next week.
I still had a life outside that fucking hotel.
But probably.
I smiled slightly as I watched the last lights of Pentagram City disappear behind the trees.
Charlie was going to hate that word.
That was precisely why I intended to keep using it.