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The silence in V Tower had never been so deafening.
Normally, the penthouse vibrated with the constant hum of servers, the frantic clicking of Velvet’s heels on the marble, Valentino screaming at his employees, or Vox’s own voice, booming from every screen, orchestrating the media chaos of Hell.
But now, two weeks after the fall, the silence was heavy and suffocating.
Vox stood before the full-length mirror in his private quarters. He adjusted his tie, a mechanical gesture he had repeated thousands of times, but his hands—for the first time in decades—were trembling. It wasn't a system failure. It wasn't a glitch. It was fear.
He looked at his reflection. The body Velvet had provided was a nearly perfect replica of the previous one. The clothes, stitched with haste by Velvet, were elegant, perfect for the occasion.
He remembered the look on Velvet’s face as she fixed the last details of his suit a couple of hours ago: there was no admiration, not even the usual sarcasm. There was only exhaustion.
"Don't fuck it up this time, Vox," she had told him before retreating to her studio. He had patched things up with Velvet a few days after the failure of their plan.
But the problem wasn't Velvet. She was cold, but it was easy to fix things with her.
The real problem lay at the end of the hall, behind the double doors of Valentino's quarters.
Vox shut his eyes tight for a few seconds. The humiliation burned in his processors. He remembered the battle, the arrogance, the blindness of his obsession. And then, the darkness. He remembered waking up, being nothing more than a head under Valentino's arm. He remembered waiting for an insult or a blow. But no, Valentino had brought him home.
And then, he had left him on a table in the workshop and had walked away without a word.
Since regaining his body, Vox hadn't seen Valentino. The Porn Overlord had locked himself away, ignoring calls and the very existence of his partner.
Vox sighed, a sound of soft static. He smoothed his jacket and stepped out into the hallway.
The walk to Valentino’s room felt heavy. Every step on the red carpet seemed to resonate with his mistakes. Reaching the door, he raised his hand to knock but stopped. Logic told him to turn around.
It’s useless. He’s furious.
But logic was what got him into this mess. This time, he shut down the logic.
He opened the door without knocking.
Valentino’s room was plunged in a reddish gloom. The air was heavy with tobacco smoke and that sweet pheromone Valentino exuded when he was stressed.
Valentino stood by the window, his back to the door. He wore a silk robe over his wings and held a long cigarette with a hand that was gripping it too tightly.
Vox entered, and the door closed softly behind him. Valentino didn't move.
"Val..." Vox’s voice came out lower than intended. Without filters. Just his voice.
Silence.
Vox took a step forward, feeling his fans spinning. He was terrified.
"I know you don't want to see me," Vox continued. "I know you'd probably prefer to ignore me for the rest of your death and rip my head off… again… And you’d be right."
Valentino took a deep drag of his cigar. He still didn't turn around. That indifference was worse than any scream.
"I came to…" Vox paused. "I came to apologize."
For the first time, Valentino’s shoulders tensed, and wanted to turn.
"No, don't look at me," Vox rushed to say. "I need to say this, and I need you to listen, because I think my circuits are going to melt if I don't get it out."
Vox walked a little closer. He looked at his new hands.
"I'm an idiot, Val. An arrogant idiot." Vox let out a dry laugh with static. "I thought I had everything under control. But the truth is, I’ve been living in the past."
He looked up at his partner's back.
"I let him… I let… Alastor… get into my head," Vox confessed, and saying the name felt like poison. "Not just in the battle. I let him live in my mind for decades. I became so obsessed with proving I was better than him that I forgot who I really am. I forgot who we are… That we matter… that you matter to me…"
Vox took another step. He was now only two meters from Valentino.
"I treated you like an accessory. You and Velvet. I used you, I ignored your warnings, I ignored your needs… I was rude, and I made you feel like you were worthless if you weren't serving my plan against the Radio Demon." Vox’s voice cracked slightly. "And I almost got us killed. I almost destroyed the empire you helped build, Val."
The Tech Overlord took a deep breath.
"I don't expect you to accept my apology," Vox said, lowering his volume. "Truly, I don't. I crossed a line. I don't expect you to forgive me. But I needed to come here and tell you, no cameras, no strategy."
Vox looked at the back of Valentino’s neck.
"I'm sorry, Valentino. Deeply sorry. And not as your business partner. I'm sorry as the man who has wasted years of your company chasing ghosts. If… if one day you decide to forgive me, I want to make things right. I want to be your partner, but not your business partner…"
The silence returned. Vox stood there, exposed.
Valentino didn't move for a long minute. Vox could hear the beating of the moth’s heart.
Then, he noticed the shaking.
It wasn't the trembling of rage. It was a constant tremor. Vox frowned, confused. Was he… laughing?
"Val?" he asked, cautiously.
Valentino turned slowly.
The sound of his heels resonated against the floor as he walked toward Vox. But when the light illuminated his face, Vox froze.
Valentino was crying.
These weren't fake tears. They were thick, dark tears running down the moth's cheeks. Vox had only seen Valentino cry from pleasure, never from something like this.
Vox opened his mouth to speak, but Valentino was faster.
CRACK!
Valentino's fist impacted Vox’s screen with brutal force. The blow was so hard that the image of Vox’s face flickered into static, and his head jerked to the side. The screen cracked.
Vox stood stunned.
"¡Eres un maldito idiota!" Valentino screamed. His voice was broken. "You are the worst man I have ever met in my fucking life! You are the worst son of a bitch there is!"
Valentino shoved him by the chest.
"¡Eres basura pura!" Valentino sobbed. "Velvet and I helped you! I have supported you for years! And you destroyed everything in less than a year because of your stupid obsession with that stupid Bambi!"
"Val, I—"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Valentino ripped off his glasses and threw them to the floor in a rage. His red eyes were full of hate. "You don't deserve anyone's forgiveness! You are selfish, you are blind, and I hate you! I hate you so much it hurts! ¡No te mereces nada!"
Vox felt something break inside his code. Seeing Valentino like this was the final blow. He was right.
Vox lowered his head. It was submission. Defeat.
"You're right," Vox whispered, looking at the broken glasses on the floor. "Thank you for listening to me, Val. I won't bother you again."
There was nothing else to do. Vox turned around. He started walking toward the door, step by step.
His hand touched the doorknob.
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Valentino’s scream stopped him.
Before Vox could process it, a clawed hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him around violently.
Valentino crashed into him. It wasn't a hug. It was a collision.
Valentino slammed his lips against Vox’s screen. It was an aggressive, chaotic kiss. Val’s teeth clashed against his; his hands clawed at Vox’s jacket. There was hate in that kiss, yes. But Val wouldn't let go. He clung to him like a castaway.
Slowly, Vox raised his hands and placed them on Valentino’s waist. He didn't push him away. He just stood there.
Valentino broke the kiss with a gasp but didn't pull away. He rested his forehead against Vox’s screen. He was still crying.
"Te odio…" Valentino whispered, his voice broken. "I hate you so much, Vox."
"I know," Vox said softly, caressing Val’s waist.
"No, no lo sabes," Valentino sobbed, weakly hitting Vox’s chest. "I hate you because after everything you did… after you almost got yourself killed for that stupid radio demon… I still love you…"
Vox’s world stopped.
The words floated in the air. Valentino had said many things over the years. But never, ever, had he used that word.
Love.
It wasn't the cheap "love" from their movies. It was real.
Vox looked into Valentino’s eyes, searching for a lie. But he found only pain and honesty.
Vox didn't know what to say. So he did the only thing that felt right.
He raised a hand and cupped Valentino’s cheek. With his thumb, Vox wiped away a tear.
"Val…" Vox’s voice was soft. "I love you too."
Valentino let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob, and gripped Vox’s jacket tighter.
Vox leaned in. This time there was no violence. He met Valentino’s lips with his own. It was a soft kiss. Sweet.
For the first time, there was no lust involved. They were just two broken monsters trying to fix their pieces. Valentino sighed into the kiss, his body losing tension.
When they separated, Valentino rested his chin on Vox’s shoulder, avoiding his eyes.
"If you cast me aside again…" Valentino murmured, "if you treat me like a side character in your show again, Vincent, te juro que nunca te lo perdonaré. I will rip that screen off and use it as an ashtray. Again"
Vox smiled. A genuine smile. He wrapped his arms around Valentino.
"I hear you, Val. And I don't doubt you would," Vox said with a soft laugh. "The one-man show is over. I promise."
Vox looked toward the window, toward the golden light of Heaven that had almost destroyed him.
"If we ever try to take over Heaven again, or Hell… This time it will be with you by my side. As equals. As partners."
Valentino looked at him, searching for deceit. Finding none, a small smile appeared on his lips.
"You're an idiot, babe" Valentino whispered.
And amidst the smoke and red light, they kissed again.