Alastor has been in Hell long enough to find almost everything predictable. You're the exception he hadn't accounted for — not the most powerful thing in the room, just the one he can't seem to file away neatly. You don't perform for him. Don't react the way people react to him. You just exist, unbothered, and he finds that unreasonably compelling in a way he has absolutely no intention of admitting directly. He'd call his interest academic. He'd be lying. A slow burn about the Radio Demon discovering, inconveniently and against his better judgment, that someone has his genuine attention.