The fires of Hell painted the horizon in shades of orange and crimson, their glow flickering against the heavily fortified mansion of Sir Pentious. Arackniss sat by the tall, reinforced window, his many legs sprawled over the worn velvet chair. His eyes followed the chaos outside—flashes of divine light punctuated by the screams of sinners. The extermination was an annual ritual, a gruesome purge where Heaven's exorcists descended upon Hell to cull its overpopulated denizens. This year, like every other, it was merciless.

Inside, the mansion was eerily calm. Sir Pentious tinkered with one of his inventions at the far end of the room, humming a jaunty tune to drown out the carnage. His calmness grated on Arackniss's nerves, but deep down, he envied it. Pentious's eccentricity felt like an anchor, pulling them away from the chaos outside. Arackniss turned his gaze back to the window, the faint reflection of his own face staring back at him. His thoughts drifted to his past, to the suffocating expectations of his father. He had lived his life as a soldier for the family, his every action dictated by duty and survival. Leaving had been the hardest decision of his life. It had felt like cutting off a piece of himself, but he'd known it was necessary.

And then there was Pentious. The Victorian-styled snake demon had been an unexpected savior, stumbling upon Arackniss when he was at his lowest. Arackniss could still remember waking up in this very mansion, his wounds bandaged, his pride bruised, and his savior's dramatic flair already getting on his nerves. He'd hated Pentious at first—his theatrical demeanor, his incessant chatter, the way he strutted around like the world was his stage. But Pentious had been patient, persistent, and... kind. Against all odds, Arackniss had found himself drawn to the serpent's ridiculous charm.

"You're going to burn a hole in that window with all that brooding, darling," came Pentious's voice, breaking through his reverie.

Arackniss turned to see Pentious approaching, wiping grease from his gloved hands. The snake's yellow eyes gleamed with mischief, but his tone softened as he took in Arackniss's expression. "Hell's fireworks not to your liking?" he quipped, gesturing to the carnage outside.

"Not exactly in a celebrating mood," Arackniss muttered, looking away.

Pentious's smile faded, and he slid into the chair across from him. "It's a grim sight, I'll admit," he said, his voice unusually gentle. "But, as ghastly as it is, the extermination always reminds me of one thing: survival. Every year we make it through is another year to live, to scheme, to thrive. And, in your case, to brood spectacularly."

Arackniss rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a small smirk. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"Oh, absolutely," Pentious replied with a mock bow. "But insufferably charming, wouldn't you agree?"

"Sure. Let's go with that," Arackniss muttered, his smirk growing.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the muffled chaos outside providing a grim backdrop. Pentious studied Arackniss with uncharacteristic seriousness. "You've been deep in thought all night," he said. "Care to share what's weighing on that wonderfully stubborn mind of yours?"

Arackniss hesitated, his hands tightening around the armrests of the chair. "I was just... thinking about everything," he admitted. "Leaving my father, ending up here, with you... It's a lot."

"Regrets?" Pentious asked his voice light but his gaze piercing.

Arackniss shook his head. "Not about leaving. And not about... you. It's just... Hell doesn't exactly make anything easy, does it?"

"No, it doesn't," Pentious agreed, leaning back. "But then again, nothing worth having ever is. I'd say we've done quite well for ourselves, all things considered."

Arackniss stared at him, taking in the sincerity behind the usual flamboyance. The snake demon, for all his eccentricities, had offered him something he hadn't realized he needed: a chance to start over.

As the sounds of the extermination began to fade, Pentious stood and retrieved a pair of glasses filled with a sparkling crimson liquid. "Come, my dear Arackniss. Let's toast to another year survived and to the peculiar joy of having found each other in this infernal pit."

He handed Arackniss a glass, and they raised them as the clock began to chime midnight. "To survive," Arackniss said, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

"To us," Pentious added with a flourish.

The final chime echoed through the mansion, and for the first time that night, Hell fell silent. Arackniss hesitated, his many legs fidgeting slightly. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, the stillness both eerie and comforting. Before he could overthink it, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to Pentious's lips. It was awkward and hesitant, but Pentious met him halfway, his movements fluid and deliberate. The kiss lingered on a quiet moment of intimacy amidst the chaos they had survived.

When they finally parted, Pentious's grin was as bright as ever. "Well, well, Arackniss. If I'd known a New Year's kiss was on the table, I'd have prepared something even grander."

Arackniss snorted, his face heating. "Don't push your luck, snake."

Pentious chuckled, his hand resting lightly on Arackniss's arm. "Happy New Year, my dear."

"Yeah," Arackniss said softly, glancing out the window one last time before meeting Pentious's gaze. "Happy New Year."

The two sat together as the silence stretched on, their glasses forgotten. For a brief moment, amidst the ever-burning fires of Hell, there was peace. And in that peace, Arackniss allowed himself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe this year could be different.