Certainly! Here is your detailed fantasy transformation story, blending the vivid personalities and appearances of **Charlie Morningstar** and **Alastor the Radio Demon** with the robotic lore of the Transformers universe, following your outlined narrative precisely.
---
### "Broadcast of the Unmaking: The Genesis of Dynamo and Torpedo Blast"
The fog over the ruined skyline of Pentagram City clung to the Hazbin Hotel as if reluctant to let go. Inside the ornate, infernal lounge, Charlie Morningstar wrung her hands, anxiety pricking the skin beneath her red tuxedo sleeves. She had just left another fruitless planning session with her staff, hope and desperation mingling in her voice as she dialed the number for the city’s most notorious Overlord.
“Alastor?” she said into her cellphone, hope shining in her singular red eyes. “I need your help... Please. I can’t do this alone.”
Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, manifested without formality—broad smile gleaming, antlered head cocked. Static crackled around him as a scarlet portal shut behind his cane. He grinned, “Why, my charming demon belle, you know I do so enjoy—entertainment. What’s life without a little… transformation?”
Charlie cringed, uneasy. “Just—help keep the place safe. For once?”
“Fear not!” Alastor flourished his cane, mischief dancing in his voice. “I’ll ensure this show is one no one in Hell will ever forget.”
Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes flashed crimson runes. Voodoo symbols—his magic, wild and rippling, filled the room. It swept over Charlie and himself, an engulfing wave of red and black. The world blurred.
#### BODY TRANSFORMATION
The world convulsed. Marble and velvet shuddered around them as reality itself creaked. Charlie’s limbs tingled—**sharp and alien, metal plates knitting over skin**. Her shoes welded into pink and metallic feet. With a gasp, she saw her fingers fuse, bulge, and expand—sable cables sprouting beneath glossy armor. Her flesh vanished, replaced by seamless plates of pink and gray alloy with light blue highlights. **Her fitted tuxedo and suspenders shimmered, melting into glossy pink and light gray metallic armor**. Where her bowtie had been, a seamless blue-lit band ringed her thickening neck.
Charlie moaned, startled: “Alastor?! What’s happening to—my voice!”
Her tone, once joyous and airy, **deepened, resonant and masculine**, startling her as her throat flared with vocoder harmonics.
Alastor howled with laughter even as **his own transformation began**, but his amusement soon turned to dread:
His red pinstripe suit and gloves merged into crimson, black-striped metal plating, form swelling and bulking. **His antlers twisted down and melded into sharpened helmet fins, red with black edges, as his thin frame filled with dense machinery**. The monocle popped and receded, becoming an opalescent optic sensor. His grin faded—the new metallic face, now a stark, expressive slate-gray, no longer perpetually fixed in mirth.
They shot upward, growing, expanding—ceiling splintering as they **reached 25 feet tall**, the hotel now only knee-height to these titanic cybernetic forms.
Charlie—now a hulking robot with **a broad, athletic build** and **pure blue optics**—clutched his head. His new voice vibrated: “What—what are you doing, Alastor?! I—I didn’t want this!”
#### VOICE AND MENTAL SHIFT
Alastor, his own hands—now black-clawed and red-plated—clasped his cranium, red optics flickering. His radio-static voice, so constant, fell dead silent; when he spoke again, it was the clear, energetic voice of a teenager, all crackle and showman gone:
“No—wait, Charlie, this isn’t… I didn’t—dude! What is happening to my—voice?”
He blinked, horror stricken at hearing himself say ‘dude’.
Charlie’s own new voice, deeper than ever, boomed, “Something’s wrong—my memories—” He faltered mid-sentence, clutching his head harder as fragments of songlines and hope disintegrated, replaced by numbers, tactical plans, weapon schematics.
Vision blurred, thoughts fuzzed, fragments dissolving. Charlie felt Vaggie’s name slip away, the taste of redemption bleeding out, replaced by coded language: war, alliances, ‘Prime directives’. The panic rose.
“No, I—can’t—forget—who—”
But the memories slid like transmission fluid from a cracked engine.
Alastor’s face twisted, expressive at last, and—he frowned, genuinely, for the first time in uncounted decades. He staggered, his mind awash in static that wasn’t his. “Bro—I—why do I keep calling you ‘Dynamo’?”
He forced out, “That’s not—I was never—dude, we—” But the words were wrong, no longer stylish anachronisms or 1920s charm, but modern slang, which he hated, which he never used—and couldn’t not use, now.
Charlie, confusion etched in every mechanical contour, gasped, “And why do I—I call you ‘Torpedo Blast’? That’s—who—are we?” Each word came with the metallic taste of truth, of self-revision. “What’s happening to—us?”
A new certainty percolated in his processor: “We’re… just… returning to normal?”
The former Charlie, now Dynamo, felt the last light of the Hazbin Hotel wink from his memory—the mission, the music, even the love, gone. Only a new, unyielding knowledge filled the space:
They were brothers, always had been. Cybertrons—veterans of conflict, their Decepticon shoulder badges a relic of a past allegiance they’d both turned from. They’d never been demons. That was a **glitch**, a code error, a fever dream of another world.
#### THE FINAL CHANGE
The last trace of personality—Charlie’s hope, Alastor’s theatricality—shredded in the host matrix. Defense protocols activated. Old feelings flickered, then died. Both bots straightened, optics clear, the confusion replaced by default camaraderie.
“Yo, Torpedo Blast,” Dynamo said, voice even and strong, “base is calling. Autobots need a sitrep.”
Torpedo Blast—once Alastor—nodded, the easy confidence of a teenage soldier blending into his voice. “You got it, bro. Should be a chill ride, just some Decepticon stragglers out east. Let’s roll.”
Memories of Hell, of magic and hope, of devious contracts and redemption, never return. They don’t exist. They never did.
Marching together, two titans of chrome and code, shoulder-to-shoulder through the ruined cityscape—not of Hell, but of Cybertron itself—they move as brothers, as Autobots, Torpedo Blast’s red and black gleaming in the new dawn, Dynamo’s pink-and-gray plates catching the first starlight.
They leave behind nothing but a brief echo—a ghostly, glitched-out smile in the static of forgotten memory.
---
#### Sample Quotes from Throughout the Story
**Charlie (during early transformation):**
> “Alastor?! What’s happening to—my voice!”
**Alastor (mocking, then panicked):**
> “Ha-ha! What a show, my dear! …Wait, Charlie, this isn’t—dude! Why am I saying ‘dude’?!”
**Charlie (struggling against memory loss):**
> “No, I—can’t—forget—who—”
**Alastor (horrified by personality shift):**
> “Why do I keep calling you ‘Dynamo’? That’s not—I was never—dude, we—”
**New Dynamo, realization settling in:**
> “We’re… just… returning to normal?”
**New Torpedo Blast, accepting his new self:**
> “You got it, bro. Should be a chill ride, just some Decepticon stragglers out east. Let’s roll.”
---
And so, their transformation complete and irreversible, **Charlie Morningstar and Alastor** are forever erased, becoming **Dynamo and Torpedo Blast**—cybertronic brothers, Autobots of legend, with no memory of their life as demons, for those lives never were.
This story was generated by user HelluvaJester with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
Prompt: Write the transformation story of Charlie Morningstar and Alastor the Radio Demon (both from an adults cartoon/animated series Hazbin Hotel) turning into cybertrons (which are sentient robots) from the Transformers franchise, complete with gender change (with Charlie Morningstar transforming from female to male), robotification (becoming robots) body change (due to both Charlie Morningstar and Alastor becoming giant humanoid robots), clothes-body merge (Charlie's and Alastor's clothes merging with their bodies to become metallic armor of their own respective colors), height progression (making them much taller until they are more than 25 feet tall), voice change (Charlie's and Alastor's voices change to fit their new bodies, with Charlie's voice becoming deeper and masculine while Alastor's voice loses his radio static effects and changes to become more similar to a late-teenager), reality change (Charlie's and Alastor's world becoming the world of Transformers), and mind/mental change (with all of Charlie's and Alastor's personality and memories being completely replaced with those of cybertrons, making their minds fuzzy (the fuzziness in their minds clear up when their memories and personalities are fully replaced), despite their best efforts on fighting them off (they don't want to forget their previous self but then completely forget all about their previous selves against their will), making them unable to remember their previous selves (which they realize (or rather know) were not real and that they were never demons to begin with, which they know was just a glitch in their retinas/programming), so they remember (or rather know) that they have always been cybertrons (which is their true/real selves) and formerly Decepticons on Megatron's side (having joined the Autobots despite both the cybertrons retaining the Decepticon symbols on their shoulder pads), completely oblivious/unaware of their previous selves (which wasn't real to begin with)). The transformation is permanent (meaning it is forever) and is completely irreversible. For Charlie Morningstar's appearance (before the transformation begins), she is a tall, slender hellborn demon, standing at around 6 feet tall or over. She has long, blonde hair, with lighter blonde and pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl. Her lips are black and she has rosy red cheeks. She wears grey eyeliners, her eyes are red, her sclera is light yellow, and she has thick black eyelashes, both top and bottom. She accessorizes with a small black bowtie and black suspenders, with an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt. Over this she usually wears a fitted red tuxedo jacket with dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes. When in her full demon form, a pair of dark-reddish horns protrude from her head and her eyes' sclera turn bright red with slit pupils. Here is Charlie's personality; she is compassionate and empathetic to a fault, feeling genuine upset at the idea of harm coming to others. Although she isn't unaware that Hell is populated with souls that have committed egregious acts in their living lives, she still views their yearly extermination as a senseless waste and makes it her personal mission to help them avoid it via self-betterment and eventual redemption, something she is seemingly alone in believing is possible. Charlie's idealism, while setting her apart from many of her hellborn peers, can also make her naïve to many of the harsh realities that appear to stand in the way of her potential success - something her girlfriend, Vaggie, tries to remind her of, only to be cheerfully ignored in favor of a more blinkered, sunny optimism. This can also cause her to rush headlong into the initial stages of her plans without much preparation. Charlie has a love for musical theatre, song and dance, and will often convey her emotions and ideas through showtunes and ballads. She appears to take perceived failures hard, as she believes her heartfelt theatrical passion should be enough to bring people over to her way of thinking, and is disheartened when it's not as simple as she imagines. She openly admits during a dejected voicemail to her mother that she doesn't actually know what she is doing, or how to make her plan for reforming sinners work in practice. Despite being sweet and lacking 'street-smarts', this doesn't make Charlie a pushover or stupid. When people insult her or openly mock her ideals and plans, she has no hesitation in standing up for herself, or even rolling up her sleeves to physically fight back. She is also not above letting a few cuss words slip. Charlie also displays some grounding in her idealism, understanding that not all demons can be redeemed, or even likely to change for the better. She displays sensible hesitation when confronted with an ambiguous deal from some high-raking demons. For Alastor's appearance (before the transformation begins), he is a slim (having an unnaturally thin torso, neck, arms, and legs, except his shoulders are broad), dapper sinner demon with beige-colored skin, and usually has an unnaturally broad smile (reaching from each cheek's upper area) full of sharp, yellow teeth (he has no ability to frown due to this permanent smile). He is approximately 7 feet tall. He sports a pinkish-red cropped, angled bob-cut with black tips at the ends and two large, black tipped tufts of hair extending from the top of his head, evoking the ears of a deer. The style has an undercut at the back, and two small black antlers protruding from the crown, which can grow in size in his full demonic form. Alastor's eyes have dark-red sclerae, bright-red irises and thin black pupils (which can change into the shape of radio dials when shifting into his full demon form). He also has four fingers (like all Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss characters), unlike real world humans. His forearms and lower legs fade to dark grey, and he has red hoof-toed feet and red clawed fingers. Alastor wears a red pinstripe coat with dark-red lapels piped with white, which is ragged along the bottom hem. Underneath this he wears a bright red dress-shirt with a black cross on the chest, and long black dress pants with matching bright red cuffs. He also wears a dark-red oval-shaped monocle, rimmed with black, over his right eye. He accessorizes with a black knotted bowtie with a bright red center, black gloves with red at the fingertips, and black pointed-toe boots with red deer hoofprints emblazoned on the soles. Alastor also carries a thin cane with a sentient vintage style microphone attached to it, which he uses to play sound effects and broadcast his voice. His voice also sounds like it is coming from an old-fashioned vintage radio. Alastor has many supernatural powers, such as demon transformation (the ability to turn into a more powerful demon form), flexibility (able to contort his body into numerous unnatural poses), demonic magic (able to cast magic thanks to the high power-level he has accrued in the demon ranking system, this magic takes the visual form of glowing red symbols that resemble Voodoo veve, which float around him), shadow manipulation (able to summon shadows and manipulate them into doing his bidding), spatial warping (able to get around with the help of his shadow, allowing teleportation through this ability), portal creation (able to transport others to his location easily via the portals he makes), pyrokinesis (able to summon small balls of fire for display purpose), phytokinesis (able to make plants wilt with a single stare), manifestation, photokinesis (able to project red glowing light from his eyes as well as his microphone), and outfit alteration (capable of changing the outfits of his targets as well as his own with a snap of a finger). He is also capable of various other abilities including deal-making (as Alastor is known to be a deal-maker demon; deal-maker demons like Alastor can increase their power by dealing in souls, which is a very powerful commodity in hell, so they’re seen as very manipulative and not to be toyed with, deal-making is not something every demon can do, as such it is not to be taken lightly as it doesn’t generally work out well for the other party), broadcasting (when he was a living human, Alastor's profession was as a radio show host, and he continues his broadcasts in Hell as a demon, ensuring that Hell's denizens are aware of his activities over the airwaves, earning him the title of "The Radio Demon"), bilingualism (Alastor can speak English fluently as well as some broken Creole French), cooking (Alastor is noted to be "a big foodie" and mentions having admired his mother's cooking, specifically her Jambalaya), musical/dancing/theatrical talent (Alastor is known to display moderate vocal abilities and excels at dancing, with some people noting tap to be a style he excels in specifically, he also shows a flair for theatrical showmanship), and wide intellect (Alastor is known to be quite a cunning individual, resulting in him accruing a large amount of power through his tricks and deal-making). Alastor stands out from many of the more chaotic residents of hell for his well maintained amiable persona. He gives a first-impression of a good-natured and charming man, wearing a permanently wide grin on his face at all times. His behavior, mannerisms, and even his voice are similar to an old-fashioned radio announcer and speaks with a transatlantic accent, often using quaint anachronisms such as "the picture show" and refers to Charlie as a "charming demon belle". This playful dandyish exterior, however, obscures a much darker side to him - one with high levels of self-importance - and he will not hesitate to use physical violence when others don't act in line with his very particular values or expectations. He is noted to be narcissistic, with his love for himself being stated that no one else can measure up to it, and he does not see many people quite up to his level. Alastor is described as a man of duality. He values good manners, affability and intelligence very highly in others, and will actively look down on those who do not meet his standards, however he will often play fast and loose with these arbitrary rules in regards to himself and his own conduct. Alastor has an odd sense of morality, which is described as "not normal", and has been noted to be quite sadistic, even cannibalistic, devouring lesser demons or those that have incurred his anger. Despite this, he keeps close friends with the other cannibals of Hell, including the denizens at the Cannibal Town. His smiling is a very self enforced form of ego and a show of power and dominance; he looks down on anyone who lets their true emotions show, and even when faced with a rival in strength, if they let slip a frown, Alastor will see them as truly weak. His smile is also to be more unpredictable and unnerving, and gives him a feeling of complete control over himself. While Alastor is powerful, he is aware that there are other demons and entities that rival him in terms of power, such as other Overlords. For this reason, he is wary around such demons, as they could potentially harm him if he is not careful. Despite everything, Alastor does genuinely seem to want to help Charlie run the Hazbin Hotel, albeit for his own amusement, and hopes for its failure over siding with her idealism. Alastor also dismisses the idea that redemption is possible as laughable, nevertheless, he fulfills his role as patron as promised, providing the hotel with staff, and protecting Charlie and her business from outside threats. He views the whole endeavor as a fun distraction from his decades of boredom. Despite consistently having a confident and cheerful demeanor, he harbors a vulnerable side that becomes apparent when confronted with reminders of being "chained". In this instance, his facade of certainty crumbles, and he succumbs to panic attack. According to Mimzy (Alastor's friend), when Alastor was alive he would become a "kitten" (not literally a kitten) if he drank enough rye whiskey while jazz music was on. Here are Alastor's preferences (his likes and dislikes); he likes himself (including his own fashion style), smiling, doodling, gossip and drama, invading others' personal space, his mother and her cooking, jazz music, strong liquor, cooking, seeing people fail, playing pranks, bitter tastes (especially those of black coffee), theater, dancing, the Stock Market Crash of 1929, venison, being in charge, Charlie's potential, pineapple on pizza, and making jokes. However, he dislikes Lucifer Morningstar (the king of Hell and Charlie Morningstar's father) and his "tacky" circus décor, Susan (a Cannibal Town resident), being touched (including his hair being touched), dogs, frowning, tea, anything sweet, Angel Dust's sexual remarks, being humbled, post-30s' technology, anyone ruining his outfit, being controlled and reminded of it, the idea of the hotel failing, and Mimzy bringing destruction to the hotel. The story is that Charlie Morningstar needed help from Alastor and she calls him to help her with the Hazbin Hotel, but Alastor, who wanted to bring in more entertainment, intentionally uses his black magic to transform both himself and Charlie into cybertrons for fun (while also causing them to be in the world of Transformers), starting their transformations into cybertrons. As their bodies become metallic (while they start to grow much taller), Charlie's outfit merging with her body as her body bulks up (becoming bulky yet athletic) to become pink and light gray metal with light blue rims and bands (pink feet with gray patches and light blue rims, gray lower arms with pink patches and light blue bands, gray helmet with pink rims ans black bands and black ear pieces, and pink upper torso with gray patches and light blue rims, as well as dark gray thighs, dark gray upper arms, dark gray lower torso, and dark gray neck) while her eyes become pure blue eyes without pupils or irises and her face becoming a dark gray masculine and metallic face (her voice deepens to a manly voice to match her new form hair shortens and becomes a pink-and-gray helmet with rounded black antennae-like ear pieces) as she was now 25 feet tall, much to Alastor's amusement. Alastor is enjoying his own transformation, as Alastor's outfit merges with his body as his body bulks up (becoming bulky yet athletic, no longer unnaturally slender or slim) to become red-and-black metal with white rims and thin black stripes (red feet and lower legs with black stripes, red lower arms with black hands and white wrists, red helmet with black lines and ear pieces, and red upper torso with white rims, as well as black thighs, black upper arms, black lower torso, and black neck) as he was now 25 feet tall, while his eyes become completely red without irises or pupils (unlike his previous self) and his face becoming a deep gray metallic manly face (with his hair shortening before merging with his black antlers to turn into a red-and-black helmet with sharp black antennae-like ear pieces), much to Alastor's amusement. Once their bodies stopped transforming (much to Charlie's confusion and horror since she doesn't want to transform), they were now completely cybertrons, much to Alastor's amusement (noticing his voice no longer having radio static effect and now sounding like a late teenager's voice), and he tells Charlie that this was his plan (even though he doesn't know the world or characters who inhabit it). Unfortunately, without Alastor's consent and against his will (and against his plan), both Alastor's and Charlie's mind starts clouding up and they both start forgetting all about their previous selves (also against their will, especially Alastor (now frowning due to no longer having a permanent grin but an expressive face), who never planned or wanted to replace his own personality or memories, so he and Charlie both try to fight off the mind/mental changes but to no avail, as Alastor begins calling Charlie "Dynamo" while Charlie begins calling Alastor "Torpedo Blast", despite Charlie and Alastor not having heard these names before (Alastor is confused why does he know these names, and Charlie is also confused by that), making them realize, much to their horror, that their memories are being replaced), making them hold their own heads, and they are losing all memories and personality of their previous selves, making it completely impossible to remember their previous selves or lives and leaving them as cybertrons (while their memories as cybertrons flood their mind (with Alastor no longer saying quaint anachronisms such as "dear" or "charming demon belle" and, due to his changing personality becoming more like a teenager's personality (Alastor is confused on why he's acting like an everyday teenager instead of himself and asks that), he, against his will, now says stuff like "bro" and "dude" instead of "dear" or "belle" (he realizes that he can no longer say quaint anachronisms and is saying "bro", "dude", "man", and other teenage slangs instead (making Alastor confused and scared), due to his personality changes making him act more like teenager instead of his old self as Alastor, so he's acting and talking like a teenager against his will and much to his horror (with Alastor even asking himself on why is he acting like an everyday teenager and Alastor also asks himself on why is he speaking like a teenager (such as saying "dude", "man", and "bro") instead of "dear", "my dear", or "charming demon belle")), and he now (against his will) sees Charlie as his brother and Charlie seeing Alastor as her (now his) brother), making Alastor ask Charlie on what's happening before Charlie answers that they are returning back to normal, or in other words, returning back to their true selves (cybertrons), making them realize that their previous lives as Charlie and Alastor were not real, they never had been real, and, by the end of the mind/mental changes, they are starting to remember the names "Dynamo" and "Torpedo Blast" and they then realize that they always had been cybertrons named "Dynamo" and "Torpedo Blast"). Once their minds clear up, they realize (or rather know) that they had always been cybertron who once sided with Decepticons, but eventually sided with the Autobots (despite retaining the Decepticon symbols on their shoulder pads) led by Optimus Prime; with the pink-and-gray cyberton himself (who was never Charlie Morningstar) being named Dynamo and the red-and-black cybertron himself (who was never Alastor) being named Torpedo Blast, and they both have always been brothers (which they refer to each other and some other characters as either "dude", "man", or " bro"). They return back to their base with the other Autobots, as they always have after a successful mission against the Decepticons. There should also be quotes from the characters in this story so we know what they're saying and what they're thinking.
Response: Certainly! Here is your detailed fantasy transformation story, blending the vivid personalities and appearances of **Charlie Morningstar** and **Alastor the Radio Demon** with the robotic lore of the Transformers universe, following your outlined narrative precisely. --- ### "Broadcast of the Unmaking: The Genesis of Dynamo and Torpedo Blast" The fog over the ruined skyline of Pentagram City clung to the Hazbin Hotel as if reluctant to let go. Inside the ornate, infernal lounge, Charlie Morningstar wrung her hands, anxiety pricking the skin beneath her red tuxedo sleeves. She had just left another fruitless planning session with her staff, hope and desperation mingling in her voice as she dialed the number for the city’s most notorious Overlord. “Alastor?” she said into her cellphone, hope shining in her singular red eyes. “I need your help... Please. I can’t do this alone.” Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon, manifested without formality—broad smile gleaming, antlered head cocked. Static crackled around him as a scarlet portal shut behind his cane. He grinned, “Why, my charming demon belle, you know I do so enjoy—entertainment. What’s life without a little… transformation?” Charlie cringed, uneasy. “Just—help keep the place safe. For once?” “Fear not!” Alastor flourished his cane, mischief dancing in his voice. “I’ll ensure this show is one no one in Hell will ever forget.” Suddenly, Alastor’s eyes flashed crimson runes. Voodoo symbols—his magic, wild and rippling, filled the room. It swept over Charlie and himself, an engulfing wave of red and black. The world blurred. #### BODY TRANSFORMATION The world convulsed. Marble and velvet shuddered around them as reality itself creaked. Charlie’s limbs tingled—**sharp and alien, metal plates knitting over skin**. Her shoes welded into pink and metallic feet. With a gasp, she saw her fingers fuse, bulge, and expand—sable cables sprouting beneath glossy armor. Her flesh vanished, replaced by seamless plates of pink and gray alloy with light blue highlights. **Her fitted tuxedo and suspenders shimmered, melting into glossy pink and light gray metallic armor**. Where her bowtie had been, a seamless blue-lit band ringed her thickening neck. Charlie moaned, startled: “Alastor?! What’s happening to—my voice!” Her tone, once joyous and airy, **deepened, resonant and masculine**, startling her as her throat flared with vocoder harmonics. Alastor howled with laughter even as **his own transformation began**, but his amusement soon turned to dread: His red pinstripe suit and gloves merged into crimson, black-striped metal plating, form swelling and bulking. **His antlers twisted down and melded into sharpened helmet fins, red with black edges, as his thin frame filled with dense machinery**. The monocle popped and receded, becoming an opalescent optic sensor. His grin faded—the new metallic face, now a stark, expressive slate-gray, no longer perpetually fixed in mirth. They shot upward, growing, expanding—ceiling splintering as they **reached 25 feet tall**, the hotel now only knee-height to these titanic cybernetic forms. Charlie—now a hulking robot with **a broad, athletic build** and **pure blue optics**—clutched his head. His new voice vibrated: “What—what are you doing, Alastor?! I—I didn’t want this!” #### VOICE AND MENTAL SHIFT Alastor, his own hands—now black-clawed and red-plated—clasped his cranium, red optics flickering. His radio-static voice, so constant, fell dead silent; when he spoke again, it was the clear, energetic voice of a teenager, all crackle and showman gone: “No—wait, Charlie, this isn’t… I didn’t—dude! What is happening to my—voice?” He blinked, horror stricken at hearing himself say ‘dude’. Charlie’s own new voice, deeper than ever, boomed, “Something’s wrong—my memories—” He faltered mid-sentence, clutching his head harder as fragments of songlines and hope disintegrated, replaced by numbers, tactical plans, weapon schematics. Vision blurred, thoughts fuzzed, fragments dissolving. Charlie felt Vaggie’s name slip away, the taste of redemption bleeding out, replaced by coded language: war, alliances, ‘Prime directives’. The panic rose. “No, I—can’t—forget—who—” But the memories slid like transmission fluid from a cracked engine. Alastor’s face twisted, expressive at last, and—he frowned, genuinely, for the first time in uncounted decades. He staggered, his mind awash in static that wasn’t his. “Bro—I—why do I keep calling you ‘Dynamo’?” He forced out, “That’s not—I was never—dude, we—” But the words were wrong, no longer stylish anachronisms or 1920s charm, but modern slang, which he hated, which he never used—and couldn’t not use, now. Charlie, confusion etched in every mechanical contour, gasped, “And why do I—I call you ‘Torpedo Blast’? That’s—who—are we?” Each word came with the metallic taste of truth, of self-revision. “What’s happening to—us?” A new certainty percolated in his processor: “We’re… just… returning to normal?” The former Charlie, now Dynamo, felt the last light of the Hazbin Hotel wink from his memory—the mission, the music, even the love, gone. Only a new, unyielding knowledge filled the space: They were brothers, always had been. Cybertrons—veterans of conflict, their Decepticon shoulder badges a relic of a past allegiance they’d both turned from. They’d never been demons. That was a **glitch**, a code error, a fever dream of another world. #### THE FINAL CHANGE The last trace of personality—Charlie’s hope, Alastor’s theatricality—shredded in the host matrix. Defense protocols activated. Old feelings flickered, then died. Both bots straightened, optics clear, the confusion replaced by default camaraderie. “Yo, Torpedo Blast,” Dynamo said, voice even and strong, “base is calling. Autobots need a sitrep.” Torpedo Blast—once Alastor—nodded, the easy confidence of a teenage soldier blending into his voice. “You got it, bro. Should be a chill ride, just some Decepticon stragglers out east. Let’s roll.” Memories of Hell, of magic and hope, of devious contracts and redemption, never return. They don’t exist. They never did. Marching together, two titans of chrome and code, shoulder-to-shoulder through the ruined cityscape—not of Hell, but of Cybertron itself—they move as brothers, as Autobots, Torpedo Blast’s red and black gleaming in the new dawn, Dynamo’s pink-and-gray plates catching the first starlight. They leave behind nothing but a brief echo—a ghostly, glitched-out smile in the static of forgotten memory. --- #### Sample Quotes from Throughout the Story **Charlie (during early transformation):** > “Alastor?! What’s happening to—my voice!” **Alastor (mocking, then panicked):** > “Ha-ha! What a show, my dear! …Wait, Charlie, this isn’t—dude! Why am I saying ‘dude’?!” **Charlie (struggling against memory loss):** > “No, I—can’t—forget—who—” **Alastor (horrified by personality shift):** > “Why do I keep calling you ‘Dynamo’? That’s not—I was never—dude, we—” **New Dynamo, realization settling in:** > “We’re… just… returning to normal?” **New Torpedo Blast, accepting his new self:** > “You got it, bro. Should be a chill ride, just some Decepticon stragglers out east. Let’s roll.” --- And so, their transformation complete and irreversible, **Charlie Morningstar and Alastor** are forever erased, becoming **Dynamo and Torpedo Blast**—cybertronic brothers, Autobots of legend, with no memory of their life as demons, for those lives never were.
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