Author's Note: Note that this chapter takes place on the night between Chapters 14 and 15.

HABIT strolled out of the elevator into his penthouse with two female casino patrons in the crooks of his arms. He was on cloud nine after spending the past couple hours torturing more of those inconsiderate dickheads that kept showing up at his casino asking stupid questions. And the carnage was going to continue through the night with the arrival of these dumb broads (he'd already forgotten their names.) They had actually believed him when he said they looked like classy girls! He couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces when he showed them the backr...

He stopped mid-thought when he spotted a tall, dark shape standing directly in front of his favorite desk that overlooked the cityscape of Pentagram City. Oh, this was gonna be fun. This poor bastard had no idea whose house he was trespassing in. HABIT manifested his two favorite hatchets and prepared to lob them at the intruder. The two demon girls quickly ducked for cover after they also spotted the intruder.

"YOU PICKED THE WRONG HOUSE FOOL!"

The hatchets nearly left his hands when the bleach white of a skull caught the moonlight streaming through the window. He sighed and tsk-tsked at the intruder that he knew all too well.

"Hey, isn't that the guy from the news?" one of the demon girls said.

"Yes indeed, darling."

He walked over to where they hid behind one of his many recliners and jerked back the ponytail of the demoness who had spoken. In a single deft slash of his blade across her neck, he slit her throat wide open. Her friend didn't even have time to scream before he planted the second ax in her skull. They both collapsed to the floor with a pair of echoing thuds. The hatchets weren't of angelic make so the demonesses would heal. Although they're going to wish they hadn't when they eventually wake up. HABIT reached down for one of the demons and tore off one of the few blood-free parts of her dress. He rose to his feet and calmly wiped the axes off. As he cleaned them, he decided to calmly address his uninvited guest.

"Vagabond, you dickhead! Look at this mess! You see this is what happens when you don't make appointments. You get messes! Bloody fucking messes! Must run in the family because your dad is the same way." At the mention of his father, the beast leaned forward slightly. Somehow managing to promise violence in only one small movement. He decided a subject change was in order. "But regardless, how you doin' buddy? It's been a while. Love what you did with your face or lack thereof."

Vagabond stepped forward. Usually, a massive being with blank, soulless eyes walking towards someone would be pantsshittingly terrifying, but HABIT was quite accustomed to such things. Hell, he has perfected several of his own forms of intimidating approaches over his many years.

"HABIT," he replied flatly with only a slight nod of acknowledgment.

"Eeesh. I see you've still got the sense of humor of a graham cracker. Whatever, let's just get this over with. What brings you here?" He teleported to the chair behind his desk to get comfy for old Vagabond's explanation.

The hulking figure's head snapped around a full one hundred and eighty degrees to face HABIT in his new location. Slowly, the body twisted to realign itself with the head with a multitude of sickening cracks and pops.

"Might want to see a chiropractor about that," HABIT noted.

"I know you talked to the Slayer and his group recently."

"You'd be correct, just as you said. Let me tell you, he pulled up with one of the oddest groups of misfits I've seen in a while. Fucking Ricky from Trailer Park Boys was there! That caught me by surprise. And I'm tens of thousands of years old, so trust me when I say, I don't surprise easy. I mean what kind of fucknut could predict the Doom Slayer teaming up with demons and Ricky? I wonder if Bubbles and Julian are going to show."

"Did you tell them what I told you to say."

"Yeah, yeah I did. They know about the hotel and Alastor. My guess is they'll be there soon. They've been busting ass lately! Got the aetherium already from one of Vox's armories."

"Well done. You have always been an exemplary ally of mine. And servant of the Scarlet King. Trust that you will be handsomely rewarded."

"Damn right I have. Do you have any idea how long I've been sitting around in this shithole waiting for the King to make his move here?"

"Long enough to make a chain of casinos."

HABIT loudly clapped his hands together. "There we go! I knew you had a little bit of humor in you. Keep it up and soon we'll be having some actual conversations," he exclaimed, legitimately proud of the bonehead. "Hey by the way, when shit hits the fan and you tear them all apart, can you spare Ricky? The show really wouldn't be the same without him. Dude's harmless anyway. Complete fucking idiot."

"If he gets in my way, he dies."

HABIT sighed. "Hopefully that fool will know what's best for him and realize he's in way over his head. If you can't promise me his safety, could you at least bring me the hellhound? Dead or alive doesn't really matter, as long as she's mostly in one piece." A sly smile spread across his face.

Vagabond walked over to the window overlooking the city. His hooves making loud clops on the floor as he did. Hopefully, he didn't scuff them too much.

"This Loona is an important fulcrum for the tests the Slayer's group shall be put through. Not only must they be tested physically but mentally as well," Vagabond replied, completely ignoring his request.

He never understood why the Vagabond insisted on doing these "tests" everywhere he went but coaxing an explanation from the beast was like pulling teeth. His own teeth that is. Other people's teeth were surprisingly easy to pull with the right tools.

"How do you plan on doing that?"

"It wouldn't do to tell all. What I can say is that the Dreamwalker is assisting me in peeking into the inner workings of her mind and exploiting old terrors."

"Oh, I hate that horse bitch. Always rambling on and on about her bullshit family problems and talking in that stupid fucking voice. I swear next time I see her I'm turning her into glue."

"She has her faults, but she also helped free me from the Foundation. I will not have any harm come to her."

"It was a joke, you fucking stick-in-the-mud." He rubbed his face in exasperation before deciding to change the subject. "How was your stint with those spooks at the Foundation anyway?" HABIT had heard quite a lot about the SCP Foundation of Universe Sakçy, as the Scarlet King called it. Never encountered them though. The King himself oversaw that neck of the woods, and not even he was crazy enough to muscle into the boss's turf without explicit say-so from him.

"Brief yet highly illuminating. I discussed a great many things with several of my father's minions that are contained there. Some will even be assisting me in the tests I conduct on the Slayer and his group."

"That's a huge basket of freaks and monsters to pick from. Who all did you decide on?"

"As I said before, all secrets cannot be revealed. However, I will say that the Old Man will be among them."

"Damn. The Old Man? That's 106, right? Fuck man, that's one hell of a test for those idiots. Almost feel bad for them." He began tossing an old skull he had lying on his desk into the air and catching it again. "Actually, not really. I guess I just feel bad that I won't be getting Loona back in one piece after all."

"The Wearer of Anguished Mask also had much to say. He asked me to send you his regards."

"When does that porcelain freak not have a ton to say? One of the few entities out there that can rival my ability to talk people to suicide."

"Right now, I would still say you're firmly in the lead."

"Don't get too carried away with the humor now. You could legitimately hurt my feelings." HABIT faked a sad pout which Vagabond, unfortunately, didn't seem to notice. The bastard seemed fixated on staring at the city outside.

"Like what you see out there? It is pretty at night sometimes I'll give it that. But then again, Hell isn't supposed to be pretty. I like the other universes' versions much better. You know, the real fire and brimstone types. Where the demons are all completely heartless monstrosities bent on bloodshed. The 'demons' here have way too much emotion. Hell, those two broads bleeding out over there were talking my ear off about getting their act together and working towards redemption at that ridiculous fucking hotel. DEMONS talking about redemption! Can you believe that? Good Lord Above, I can't wait for your father to arrive and turn this entire place into ..."

"Do you think they will be able to defeat me?"

Vagabond's voice jolted HABIT right out of his rant. He'd honestly almost forgotten he was still there. His strange question didn't help quell the surprise either.

"What?"

"The Slayer and the group he's forming. Do you think they have a chance to defeat me?"

"That's a pretty weird fucking question man, not gonna' lie. Uh, well the Slayer might give you some trouble, especially since he's bonded with the angel metal now. But you're a son of the Scarlet King for fuck's sake, and you've beaten him before."

"I wouldn't call it a definitive win. Our actual fight was brief. Granted, I did have the upper hand, but that was only after he fought like Hell through everything I threw at him. He was alone and still felled hundreds of thousands of my army before the Red Shah arrived and annihilated the universe. Even the Slayer had to flee then."

"For simplicity's sake, I'm still tallying that as a win. Don't worry your little eldritch head about it. His little posse is all going to die brutally and horrifically." The thought brought a smile to HABIT's face. He'd have to find an ideal spot to watch the final battle with some popcorn at hand.

The moonlight shifted and glinted off the blindingly white of Vagabond's skull, causing a reflection to form in the glass that he stared into. Black voids delving into black voids.

" There is no other path," he said with what HABIT guessed was the closest he could come to a sigh.