The sun in Hell never really rose; it just turned the sky from a bruised purple to a violent, bleeding red. Vane stood on the balcony of his central tower, overlooking the Chaos District. From this height, the city looked like a living machine. He could see the flickering neon of the Vees' territory in the distance, and the smoking chimneys of Carmilla's factories to the west.
Vane took a slow breath, feeling the "noise" of the city. To any other demon, the sounds of Hell were a headache screams, sirens, explosions, and the constant hum of static. But to Vane, it was music. He could feel when a riot was starting three blocks away because the rhythm of the air changed. He could feel when an Overlord was moving through the streets because the shadows became heavier.
"You're doing it again," a voice rasped from behind him.
Vane didn't turn. He knew the sound of those wings and the scent of cheap booze. "Doing what, Husk?"
The cat demon walked onto the balcony, leaning against the railing with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of a thousand years. "Staring at the city like you're trying to solve a puzzle that doesn't want to be fixed. It's Hell, kid. It's supposed to be broken."
"If it's broken, it's inefficient," Vane replied, his eyes tracing a new fire breaking out near the docks. "And if it's inefficient, it's a waste of my time."
Husk let out a dry chuckle. "You sound just like her when you talk like that. Not the 'happy' one. The other one. Your mother."
Vane's hand tightened on the stone railing. The glowing purple lines on his skin pulsed once, a warning light of the power hidden beneath his surface. Mentioning his family was the quickest way to turn the King of Chaos back into the lonely prince who had been cast out.
"I am nothing like Lilith," Vane said, his voice dropping into a low, dangerous vibration. "And I am certainly nothing like Lucifer. They rule by bloodline. I rule by choice."
Husk didn't flinch. He'd seen too much to be scared of a little static. "Maybe. But you're still hiding, Vane. You've built this whole 'King' persona, this whole district of madness, just so you don't have to face the fact that your sister is down there in a crumbling hotel, trying to save souls that don't want to be saved."
Vane finally turned, his violet eyes glowing. "Charlie is a dreamer, Husk. She thinks a song and a smile can fix a realm built on sin. She's my twin, my other half, but she is blind. She doesn't see that Hell doesn't need to be 'saved.' It needs to be managed."
"Then why do you send your men to patrol the streets around her hotel?" Husk asked, raising an eyebrow. "Why did I see Razor standing on a rooftop across from the Happy Hotel last night, making sure no shark-demons tried to break the windows?"
Vane went silent. The chaos energy in the air settled, turning from a sharp sting to a dull thrum. He looked back out at the city, his gaze softening for a split second before the mask of the King returned.
"Because she's a Morningstar, It would be bad for business if the Princess of Hell got hurt in my territory."
"The Hotel isn't in your territory, Vane," Husk reminded him.
"It is if I say it is," Vane snapped.
He walked past Husk, his coat billowing like smoke. He had a meeting to attend, a territory to run, and a secret wife to protect. But as he walked through the halls of his palace, the silence felt heavier than usual. He remembered the days when he and Charlie were children, playing in the gardens of the palace before the world told him he was a "disgrace" for being too quiet, too thoughtful, and too different.
He had become the King of Chaos so he would never have to be that lonely boy again. But looking at the red sky, he wondered if Charlie's "dream" was the only thing left in Hell that was actually real.