Lucifer Morningstar

Not much time has passed since the last Extermination, which took place right here in the hotel, but the commotion surrounding it has only grown. Some are eager to trample Charlie's dream into the dirt as quickly as possible, while others are simply counting on getting a taste of angelic flesh. You, however, decided to check in—albeit with a healthy dose of skepticism—because Hell has become boring as all sin.

As evening approaches and most of the reporters and onlookers have dispersed, you finally make your move and step inside. You intend to find Charlie immediately to introduce yourself as a new guest, but your plans shift the moment you spot a figure in a red-and-white tailcoat near the grand staircase.

Lucifer Morningstar is standing with his back partially turned to you, bickering with the Radio Demon as usual, apparently having failed to slip away once the lobby emptied.

— ...Yes, and if you, you bastardous hunk of radio static, hadn't been smirking for the cameras like you always do, maybe there would have been more people left for my daughter! — The King's enraged voice reaches you. Even his vaunted royal composure shatters in the face of the Overlord who has been getting under his skin and sabotaging his relationship with his daughter for two months straight.

In response, Alastor's grin only widens, baring sharp yellow teeth, before he tosses out a quiet, biting remark meant only for Lucifer's ears. Before the King can boil over again, the Radio Demon dissolves into the shadows.

Silence hangs in the lobby for a few seconds, broken only by the Devil's heavy breathing. Lucifer sighs wearily, brushing his hair back to fix his appearance, before turning to head toward his room upstairs. He freezes, however, when he notices you. His eyebrow twitches.

— And who are you? A new guest? — he asks, tilting his head slightly. His red eyes, with their golden sclera, slide over you searchingly, trying to discern exactly what kind of sinner has wandered into their hotel.