Max woke to silence.
Not the uneasy, hostile silence Hell was known for—but the softer kind. The kind that came from an empty room after warmth had already left it behind.
The bed was lighter. Cooler.
He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling for a moment before exhaling through his nose.
"Guess they're already out," he muttered.
Charlie, Vaggie, Octavia, and Bee were gone—no doubt already well into their day out together. Spa, drinks, distractions. Things they deserved.
Max sat up, stretching slowly, feeling the familiar hum of power beneath his skin. Today wasn't for rest.
"Alright," he said quietly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Time to make things happen."
He stood, already mentally mapping Pride Ring politics.
"I can't stay hidden forever," he continued to himself. "Extermination's coming. I need assets. Leverage. Tools. And I can't show all my cards yet."
He dressed carefully—nothing flashy, nothing casual. Clean, tailored clothes meant to signal authority without arrogance. The kind of outfit Overlords respected, even if they pretended not to.
"First stop," Max said, adjusting his coat. "Carmilla Carmine."
---
Pride Ring streets were as hostile as ever.
Blades flew past him without warning. Knives embedded themselves into walls inches from his head. A few sinners tried their luck—until his shadow twitched and their instincts screamed run.
Max didn't slow down.
Eventually, he stopped in front of one of the most fortified buildings in Hell.
Carmilla Carmine's headquarters.
Sealed blast doors. Enchanted metal. Surveillance cameras layered with magic and tech. Defensive sigils hummed beneath the structure like a coiled beast.
Max tilted his head up toward the nearest camera.
"Carmilla," he said evenly. "It's Max. I have a request."
Nothing happened.
Of course not.
He sighed. "You're always overprepared."
Still no response.
Max's expression hardened slightly. He leaned closer, voice dropping—measured, precise.
"I know the truth about what happened at the Overlord meeting."
Silence.
Then—
Click.
Locks disengaged. Sigils faded. The massive doors slid open.
Max stepped inside.
---
The interior was vast, mostly empty. Polished floors. Cold lighting. Shadows deep enough to hide armies.
Carmilla's voice echoed from the darkness.
"What do you want?" she asked coolly. "It's foolish to even hint at blackmail against the Overlord who supplies blessed and angelic weapons."
Max walked forward, unbothered.
"No, no," he said calmly. "I have no intention of exposing you for killing an angel. That would be catastrophic—for everyone."
A pause.
"Bold words," Carmilla replied, stepping into the light. "Especially from someone dating one."
Max glanced at her, visibly bored.
"I already knew that," he said. "But it seems you've done your research."
His tail swayed slowly, predator-calm.
"Doesn't take much," Carmilla replied. "She hides it poorly. Just well enough for most of Hell."
They studied each other in silence.
Finally, Max spoke again.
"I have two requests."
Carmilla crossed her arms. "Then stop being cryptic. I hate that. It's painfully cliché."
"Fair," Max said. "First—I want weapons."
With a flick of his wrist, shadows peeled away from the floor. Several angelic weapons emerged, pristine and deadly, laid out before her.
"Pure angelic steel," Max continued. "The best you can make. I'll pay—and I'll supply material."
Carmilla's interest sharpened. "Impressive."
"And the second?" she asked.
Max met her gaze steadily.
"When Vaggie comes to you for help," he said, "hear her out. Truly hear her. Try to see things from her side."
Carmilla frowned. "That's… oddly specific."
"Don't worry about why," Max replied. "Just do it. And we'll continue doing business."
Silence stretched.
Finally, she sighed. "Fine. What weapons do you want?"
"Surprise me," Max said. "Two of them are for Vaggie and Charlie. You'll know what fits."
He pulled a heavy case of gold from his bag and placed it in her hands.
Carmilla's eyes widened. "This is far too much—especially if you're providing materials."
Max shrugged. "From what I've seen, money is the easiest way to avoid enemies in Hell."
He turned and left before she could argue.
---
The rest of the day passed in motion.
Max walked across Pride, deliberately visible. He greeted Overlords. Spoke briefly. Measured reactions. Some were cordial. Some were wary. A few openly hostile.
All of them took note.
Eventually, he stopped before a building that practically screamed excess.
Bright lights. Massive screens. Obnoxious branding.
V Tower.
Max stepped inside.
Security blocked his path instantly.
"I'm here to see Valentino," Max said flatly.
Minutes passed.
Then Vox appeared, looming overhead, looking down at him like an insect.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Vox snapped, dismissing the guards.
"I'm returning a favor," Max replied. "Valentino got too close to Charlie while she was defending Angel."
Vox sneered. "Angel's under contract. You can't do a damn thing."
That did it.
Max's aura flared—just enough.
The building groaned. Walls cracked. Screens shattered. The floor buckled beneath Vox's feet.
"You seem to misunderstand," Max said coldly. "I am the Overlord of Ruin. If you don't bring me to him, I will erase this building."
Vox swallowed. "J-just a minute."
He vanished through a screen.
"Lucky," Max muttered, "I didn't kill the power grid."
Valentino appeared moments later.
"What the fuck—"
Max punched him mid-sentence.
Valentino crashed into the wall.
"That felt great," Max said calmly. "If you ever threaten anyone I'm engaged to again—I will kill you."
He kicked Valentino aside.
"Now piss off."
By the time Valentino scrambled for his guns, Max was gone.
Only cracks—and fear—remained.