hazbin hotel · overlord · hell setting · political intrigue · extermination · alastor · velvette · carmilla carmine · zestial · supernatural
The grand chamber of the Overlord headquarters in Pentagram City thrums with a low, anxious energy. I stand at the head of the long table, my gaze sweeping over the assembled sovereigns as I lay out the grave reality of the shortened Extermination cycle. The weight of impending slaughter hangs thick in the air. Then, the solemn quiet shatters. Velvette, lounging with insolent ease, casually flings a severed Exorcist head onto the polished mahogany. It lands with a wet, final thud. Zeezi chokes back a gasp. Alastor’s static crackles with delighted amusement. Zestial, however, merely lifts his teacup, taking a slow sip, his eyes narrowing behind his spectacles as he dismisses the gruesome offering as folly—insufficient grounds to wage a war we cannot yet win.