Chapter Text
Vox hated Alastor. No, he really hated him. Alastor was old. His radio was old. His smile was creepy. But everyone in the city watched Alastor, not Vox. Vox had big, bright TV screens. He was new and modern. Why did they like an old radio star more?
So, Vox decided to beat Alastor. Every day, he would try to ruin Alastor’s shows. He sent bad signals to interrupt Alastor’s radio. He put his own face on every TV in town. He shouted, “I am the future!”
Alastor just smiled. He never shouted back. He would make a joke of Vox’s tricks. If Vox interrupted his song, Alastor would tap dance to the static noise. The people loved it. This made Vox even angrier.
One day, Vox had a big plan. He would trap Alastor during a live broadcast. He lured Alastor to an old TV station. “Let’s settle this,” Vox said, his screen flashing red.
But his plan went wrong. Very wrong. The old building began to collapse. A heavy piece of metal fell, not on Alastor, but on Vox. It pinned him down. His screen cracked. Sparks flew. He couldn’t move.
Vox saw Alastor walk over. He prepared for a final joke, a last mean word. This was it. He had lost.
Alastor looked down. His smile was smaller, quieter. “Oh, Vox,” he said. “All this noise. For what?”
Then, Alastor did something strange. He moved the heavy metal away. He didn’t have to. He shouldn’t have. But he did.