~Axel is sitting at home after just being laid off from his job in a band~

"...and don't come back you drunk sack of shit!!" An angry voice called out to Axel. 

"O-Oh yeah? W-W-ell, I t-think that y-your *hic* face looks s-stupid! You *hic* stupid h-head!" Axel called out, while stumbling through the door. He drunkenly made his way out to his car with his guitar in paw, before stumbling into his car.

Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time he had left band practice like this. Ever since Axel's sister had died, he had turned to drugs and alcohol for closure. He had gone from a very talented guitar player to a suicidal , depressed lunatic. He was once part of a successful band from the lust ring, known as 'Groin Thunder'. They were quite popular, and had Axel leading as the main guitarist. But ever since the death of his sister, he had truly never recovered, and the band had no choice but to replace him.

Axel groaned as he looked around his car for some water, reaching into the back seat. His fingers fumbled around in the back seat, his movements clumsy and unfocused. His blurry vision struggled to make sense of the mess that had accumulated in his car over the past few months. Luckily, he finally managed to find an old, half-empty water bottle, and with a triumphant yet unsteady grin, he managed to unscrew the cap and take a shaky gulp.

The water did little to alleviate the overwhelming haze that clouded his thoughts. Memories of his sister, their shared laughter, and the music they used to create together flooded his mind, intensifying the ache in his heart. He leaned back in his seat, the guitar still clutched in his paw, and stared blankly at the dashboard.

"Satan, I miss you so much," he muttered, his voice cracking with emotion. "It was all my fault." He traced the faded band sticker on the car's windshield, a relic from the days when 'Groin Thunder' was at the peak of their success. His claws lingered over the bold letters of the band's name, a bitter reminder of what he had lost.

Axel's phone chimed with a text notification, interrupting his thoughts. He clumsily retrieved the device from his pocket and squinted at the screen. It was a message from his former bandmates, the ones who had moved on without him.

Bandmate 1: Hey dude, we know you're going through a tough time, but you can't turn up to practice shit faced every time. Its better if you go to rehab or something

Bandmate 2: We miss the old you, man. It isn't the same without your skills.

Tears welled up in Axel's eyes as he read the messages. He felt a surge of regret and longing, wishing he could turn back time and undo the mistakes that had led him down this destructive path. He knew he had let his sister down, and he had let himself down too.

With a heavy sob, he placed his phone on the passenger seat and strummed a few chords on the guitar, the sound muffled and discordant. Despite his drunken state, the familiar sensation of the strings against his fingers brought a glimmer of peace. Music had once been his escape, his therapy, and he realized that he couldn't let it slip away entirely.

Tears streamed down his face as he drove into the night, a mixture of sorrow swirling within him.

Once he managed to get home, he clumsily entered the door, and immediately passed out on the couch. The last thought going through his mind of his sister.

(TIMESKIP - NEXT DAY)

Axel groaned as he slowly got up from his position on the couch. His mind was pounding from a hangover, and his fur stained with dried tears. He clumsily looked around his dark apartment, spotting the various empty bottles of alcohol.

I'm such a fuckin' mess. He thought. Taking a deep breath in, he slowly got up from the couch and headed over to the coffee machine and making a cup. After taking a sip, he sighed deeply, before clearing his head.

Ok, lets access the situation here. He thought. I have no job, no future, and will probably end up homeless. But hey, at least I have my guitar. He looked over at his instrument that was clearly on its last strings. Yeah, I really need a new one. He glanced at the clock and saw the time. 11:09

May as well have a shower and clean up before going out. He thought to himself. I should start looking for a job soon anyway. This apartment won't pay for itself. He took a long sip of his coffee, before heading over to his shower. 

(TIMESKIP - 30 MINUTES)

Walking along the sidewalk. He spotted two imps, male and female, walking along the opposite side of the street. He could see that they were holding hands and laughing together. As much as he hated to admit it, Axel was jealous. During his time in his band, he never really had time for a girlfriend or boyfriend. Most of his time was spent playing at concerts or clubs, and then practicing. He glanced back at the two imps that were strolling along together, and Axel could see they way they stared into each others eyes. The imps were truly in love, no doubt about it.

Wish I had someone like that, he thought grumpily. He sighed regrettably, before continuing his walk along imp city. Moving to the pride ring was arguably one of the dumbest decisions he ever made, but he didn't really have a choice. The rent was cheap, and so was the booze.

As he looked up at the buildings that populated the city, his eyes fell on an oddly shaped one. it was quite tall, with black and white striped horns jutting out from the top. It had a sign on one of the floor's window's that said. 'WELCOME TO I.M.P'.

I.M.P huh? I wonder what they d- 

SLAM!

Axel's thoughts were cut short buy a pole that he walked face first into. "Ow! What the fuck!" Axel groaned and rubbed his head, before something on the pole caught his eye. It was a badly spelled poster with a little imp scribbled on it. 

"IMP HEIRING. EXPERIENCE WITH KILING RECWIRED," Axel read aloud, his eyebrow raised at the misspelled words. "Go to... uh, XXXXXXXXXX." The address was illegible, but the message was clear enough. I.M.P was hiring, and it seemed they were in the business of killing.

Axel looked at the poster. Experience with killing, huh? He thought. So that's what I.M.P does. Killing wasn't a foreign concept to him, as Axel and his sister had to fight to survive when they were younger. And he did have experience shooting a gun. Axel looked up at the building again. Plus the building is right there, so what have I got to lose? He shrugged, before heading over to the entrance.

As he rose in the elevator, a sense of anticipation coursed through him, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. It was time for a new chapter, a chance to find purpose once more in a world that had felt so bleak.

Reaching the top, he was greeted with a door on one side of the hall that said, I.M.P.

Well, this is it. He thought. Axel opened the door with a sharp pull. The interior of the room was an interesting mix of brown-striped walls adorned with lively posters of imps and a certain hellhound. Axel's eyes roamed over the details – a couch, a fish tank, an atmosphere that seemed oddly casual for a place with the business of killing. He ventured further inside, taking in his surroundings with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty.

A sudden, monotone voice cut through the air, causing Axel to startle. He turned towards the source, his eyes falling on a female hellhound behind a desk.

"Hello, welcome to I.M.P or whatever. What do you want."