Remote Access (Alastor x Vox)

Chapter 2

The next morning, Vox slowly stirred awake, stretching his arms wide with a prolonged yawn. He rose from his seat, still feeling the remnants of last night's events weighing on him.

But despite the grogginess that clouded his senses, he was acutely aware of the day's pressing agenda. An important meeting awaited him – one he couldn't afford to be late for.

Today, he was scheduled to meet with Carmilla Carmine, a name that commanded respect and intrigue in equal measures. The purpose? To discuss a potential partnership on his latest, and possibly most ambitious, project yet.

The thought of this collaboration sent a mix of excitement and apprehension through his body like a shock wave. Carmilla was known for her shrewd bitchiness at times and winning her over as a business partner would be no small feat.

As he prepared for the day, Vox's mind ran through the possibilities this meeting held, as it was crucial to make the right impression – after all, a partnership with Carmilla could catapult his new project to unprecedented heights.

He cradled his aching head in his hand for a moment, a relentless thumping from behind his screen. The stale scent of his late night drink still lingered heavily on his clothes, assaulting his senses and making his stomach churn with a threatening wave of nausea. He fought back the urge to vomit, mentally chastising himself.

"Pull it together, Vox..." he muttered to himself, trying to inject a hint of levity with a forced chuckle. With a determined snap of his fingers, a surge of electricity cascaded over his clothes.

The mass of energy buzzed over his body, magically refreshing his attire and erasing any trace of the previous night's escapades. Despite feeling like he'd been trampled by the legions of Hell, Vox knew all too well that Vs didn't take sick days.

His brand was synonymous with perfection, a standard he couldn't afford to compromise. So, taking a deep, steadying breath, he summoned a confident grin – a mask of composure, ready to face the day. He strode towards the elevator, each step a testament to the unwavering resolve of an overlord who refused to let anyone stand in his way... and yet, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling that something just wasn't quite right.

Reaching the lobby, he was immediately swarmed by a sea of reporters and paparazzi, all clamoring for the attention of the tech-savvy CEO. Vox, accustomed to such attention, greeted them with a practiced wave and a charismatic smile. But as he prepared to step off the elevator, something went terribly wrong.

Without warning, his face began to glitch out and buffer, his picture quality shifting erratically. His words, once smooth and articulate, now skipped and garbled incoherently in the air.

Caught off guard, Vox stumbled,losing his composure during the unexpected malfunction. He crashed to the ground with a loud thud, his fall breaking the brief, stunned silence.

The reporters, sensing an unplanned scoop, swarmed around him, their cameras flashing incessantly, capturing every moment of his literal fall from grace.

Velvet, on her way upstairs after returning to Vs headquarters, noticed the commotion, eyeing the scene with a narrow glare until she noticed Vox, lying there on the floor.

With a look of surprise, she turned back, walking towards the chaos, stopping just shy of the growing crowd, trying her best to see what was happening.

Vox quickly got to his feet, hastily snatching his hat off the floor with a fluid motion. He rose to his full height, dusting himself off.

Despite the mishap, he managed a laugh and a grin, aiming to salvage his image before any more compromising photos could be snapped.

His personal assistant, wide-eyed and concerned, hurried to his side. "Sir, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he gave Vox a once-over.