Chapter Text
"You may all leave now, run your territories as you did before and until I call you again." Vox flashed a charismatic smile.
Vox could be as generous and benevolent, as he was cruel and terrible. They should be grateful to him for even allowing this. A slight hesitation, and then they rose, heading for the doors.
"Not you, Alastor. You stay right there."
There was a heavy tension in the air. The Overlords cast their eyes toward the Radio Demon - half risen from his seat, frozen in the process of leaving.
Alastor was staring, eyes wide, at his own clenched fist where it lay on the table, teeth bared in that terrible grin.
Carmilla made eye contact with Zestial - everyone knew what this meant. Vox's infatuation with the Radio Demon was no secret.
Not in her hundreds of years would she ever allow a meeting to go this way. The sheer disrespect and gaul of the man..
Vox was making a slow assured stride around the table toward Alastor. "Well, what are the rest of you looking at? Leave."
Their chains compelled them. Rosie was clasping a handkerchief to her mouth. Carmilla glanced back over her shoulder as she exited - the very last thing she saw was Vox clamping down his claws on Alastors shoulder.