Max woke to the sharp crack of gunfire and the distant boom of explosions.
It took him a full second to realize that was normal here.
"Hell's version of an alarm clock," he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his temples. His head felt stuffed with cotton and static. Memories sat just out of reach, like files still buffering.
The room was a standard hotel setup. Crooked wallpaper peeling at the corners. A single bed with sheets that had seen better centuries. The air carried a faint sulfur tang that clung to the back of his throat.
Infernal charm.
Max swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. The floor was cold. Solid. Real. His body felt… heavier than expected, but balanced. Strong in a way that didn't belong to muscle alone.
He caught his reflection in a dusty wall mirror and froze.
Mostly human.
Too human.
Dark hair. Familiar face. But wolf ears poked through the top of his head, twitching slightly as if reacting to sounds he couldn't consciously hear. Behind him, a fluffy tail swished once, slow and deliberate.
"…Right," Max muttered. "I did have a wolf phase."
Had was generous. Wolves had been his favorite animals since childhood. Apparently that obsession had survived death and paperwork.
He flexed his hands. Beneath the pleasant humanoid shell, something vast stirred. Ancient. Predatory. Endless. His true form pressed against reality like a storm trapped behind glass.
Instinct screamed one thing:
Don't show that unless you want the world to notice.
He exhaled slowly and the pressure receded, folding back into whatever corner of existence it belonged to.
His phone buzzed violently on the nightstand, rattling against the wood.
Max picked it up and blinked.
Dozens of messages flooded the screen.
Octavia
Loona
Bee
Charlie
Vaggie
Millie
Heart emojis. Inside jokes. Casual affection. Pet names that made his ears twitch.
He scrolled through the conversations, expecting chaos.
Instead he found warmth.
"…Huh," he whispered. "I'm already in a relationship with all of them."
And not the messy, explosive kind he'd half expected. These were… stable. Supportive. Weirdly wholesome.
The contract magic guided his responses, but it didn't overwrite him. It filtered through what he genuinely felt. No fake affection. No forced devotion.
A small smile tugged at his lips.
"This is… actually really nice."
A thought surfaced. A word with weight behind it.
"Harem Contract."
Cold chains manifested instantly.
They didn't hurt. They didn't bind. They hovered — thin glowing links looping from his neck and wrapping loosely around his wrists. Symbols rather than restraints.
An ornate contract unfolded in the air before him, parchment burning with elegant infernal script.
Names etched themselves across the surface:
Vaggie
Charlie
Octavia
Loona
Bee
He skimmed the clauses.
Mutual ownership of souls.
Absolute trust.
A bond eternal — but never forced.
Any party could leave by choice. No punishment. No retaliation. Only the loss of the connection.
It wasn't control.
It was consent, written into magic.
"Sweet," Max murmured. "In a very spooky infernal way."
His phone buzzed again.
Blitzo: GET UR ASS TO WORK. NOW. 😡💥🔫
Blitzo: UR LATE
Blitzo: I WILL FIRE U INTO A WALL
"Oh. Right. Job."
Max snapped his fingers. Shadows climbed his body and stitched themselves into a tailored black suit. Sharp lines. Fitted cut. A subtle intimidation factor baked into the fabric.
He rolled his shoulders. Perfect.
The hallway outside his room hummed with distant voices and muffled chaos. The Hazbin Hotel was awake.
He descended the stairs just in time to be tackled by a blur of red and pink.
"O–OH! A boy! Is he your boyfriend? Is he new? OOOH—DUST!" Niffty squealed, already sprinting away to violently attack a cobweb.
Max laughed. "She's like ADHD weaponized."
The lobby opened up ahead. Charlie and Vaggie were mid-conversation, tension written across their faces. Husk leaned against the bar, nursing a drink like the world personally offended him.
And standing near the entrance was a tall figure stitched from shadow and grin.
Reality itself seemed to bend politely around him.
Today clicked into place.
Alastor's arrival.
And judging by Loona's earlier texts, I.M.P. was dealing with that nightmare family from their first job.
Of course both happened today.
"Oh! Hi, Max!" Charlie beamed, rushing over to hug him before bouncing back beside Vaggie.
Alastor turned slowly, smile sharp enough to cut glass.
"Well now," he hummed, voice crackling like an old radio broadcast. "So you are the demon who has captured so many hearts."
Charlie brightened. "Right! Max, this is—"
"Alastor. The Radio Demon. Overlord," Max said calmly, offering his hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
For a fraction of a second, Alastor's grin twitched.
"Oh my," he said softly. "Someone well-informed. How delightful."
Charlie frowned. "Wait — how do you know who Alastor is? You've only been in Hell a few years, right?"
Few years.
Max almost choked.
His memories still felt scrambled, but two years was far shorter than he expected.
He improvised smoothly.
"I read up on Hell's hierarchy," he said. "Your father at the top. The Sins. Royalty. Overlords. Alastor stands out."
Vaggie crossed her arms, still suspicious. "Fine. Then you can help around the hotel today."
"Sorry," Max said. "I've gotta head to I.M.P. I'll be back tonight."
Charlie stepped closer, worry softening her expression.
"Max… why do you work there?" she asked quietly. "This hotel is supposed to rehabilitate you. And that job is one of the worst influences in Hell. It's across the entire Pride Ring. I know Loona works there, and we're not judging your… situation. But we could figure something out."
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"Charlie, my star. I'm pretty sure I can't be redeemed. I'm the nicest sinner around and I still belong here. I haven't even slept with anyone yet — even when Bee dragged me to the Lust Ring."
"She WHAT?!" Vaggie's spear appeared so fast the air whistled.
Charlie grabbed her mid-lunge.
"Relax," Max said quickly. "Per the contract, I can't do anything intimate unless we share souls. And we're not even at stage two yet. I won't break that rule."
The contract had levels.
Level One: romantic bond.
Level Two: eternal soul marriage.
And every agreement included an exit clause. No cages. No chains. Only choice.
Charlie exhaled slowly. "Still… why did Bee take you to the Lust Ring? That's another Sin's territory."
Before he could answer, his phone exploded with messages.
Blitzo: WE ARE UNDER FIRE
Moxxie: PLEASE HURRY
Loona: GET HERE NOW
Max pocketed the phone.
"I'll ask her later," he said. "Right now I.M.P. has a job. And with me there, there's less unnecessary killing. They might be Hellborn, but I still care about Loona. Like I care about all of you."
Charlie softened.
"You're right," she said quietly. "Just… come back safe. And tell Loona the get-together is in a few days."
"I will."
He stepped outside. The Pride Ring skyline stretched endlessly, neon and ruin stitched together.
Shadows curled around his feet like eager smoke.
"Alright," Max muttered.
"Time to work."
Darkness swallowed him whole, and he vanished into Hell's horizon.