Leaving the Anderson family trailer, Alex decided to finish his cigarette before returning to Saga and her two grandfathers. He hoped that her conversation with Odin and Tor would help her better understand what was really going on — where the truth ended and where the lies, woven from someone else’s words, began.

Even if Tor and Odin were considered the local crazy drunks, they had lived by Cauldron Lake longer than anyone else. And if anyone understood what was truly happening in these lands, it was them.

Taking a deep drag, Alex sank once more into thoughts of the Dark Place. Dozens of ideas swirled in his mind — from relatively harmless to completely insane. For example, creating an artificial sun within the Dark Place to disperse the Darkness. Or, conversely, releasing a tiny fraction of the Power of Destruction — just enough to annihilate the entire space.

But the second option carried a serious risk: if Chuck sensed even a flicker of the Power of Destruction, he might change his tactics. Either flee, become more cautious, or, on the contrary, ignore it entirely, remaining as arrogant as ever. Alex knew one thing — before bringing any other plans to life, he needed to deal with the Dark Place first.

To destroy it completely, he had to sever the connection between Alan Wake and the Place itself. That meant uniting the writer, the character, and the villain into one whole — bringing everything back to the beginning, where reality and fiction merged together.

Trying to break through layers of Darkness in search of Alan would be a waste of time. But then, a mad idea formed in Alex’s head. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that it could actually work. If it did, everything could be solved at once — break the Spiral, save Alan Wake, destroy the Dark Place, capture the Dark Presence hiding under the guise of Barbara Jagger… and through her, reach Amara.

While Alex was busy shaping his plan, Saga was still talking with Odin and Tor. Despite their drunken rambling and seeming nonsense, there was meaning in their words — deep, though hidden beneath madness. Saga listened carefully, trying to catch even the smallest clue that could help her restore fragments of her past.

Their conversation, however, was interrupted by a driver named Vladimir, who came to take the old men back to the retirement home, “Valhalla.” When Tor and Odin left, Saga made up her mind — she would have to visit them again later. There were definitely answers hidden within their insanity.

When the old men’s figures disappeared around the corner, Saga walked toward the trailer where Alex had stayed. She saw him standing on the porch, gazing into the distance, slowly exhaling smoke.

“Did you find any clues?” Saga asked as she approached.

“Something like that,” Alex said, pulling a photograph from his pocket. “A few hints designed to make you doubt your memories again. And something about the Clicker.”

Saga took the photo and looked at it. It showed Tor, Odin, and another man standing in front of a sign that read “Crankshaft Knights Motorcycle Club.” She immediately realized the photo was fabricated — meant to make her believe her relatives were connected to the Cult of the Tree.

But thanks to Alex, she already knew the truth — the Cult of the Tree hadn’t worshipped the Darkness; they’d protected the town from the Taken emerging from the lake. Still, the mention of the motorcycle club was an important lead. Perhaps that was where the Clicker was hidden.

Saga took a step toward the trailer door, but Alex gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, and he just shook his head slightly. That was enough — she understood she shouldn’t go inside. Even if Alex had removed all traces, seeing the child’s room again would only reopen old wounds and doubts.

“Alright, I won’t,” she said softly, stepping back. “But where do we look for this motorcycle club?”

“Remember the locked gates near the well?” Alex asked, stroking his chin. “There was also a barn and a stage for the Deerfest celebration.”

“The gates that were padlocked?” Saga asked for clarification.

“Yeah. I think that’s where the club is. Though…” Alex smirked. “I could be wrong. But it’s worth checking.”

Saga nodded. They had almost no other leads on where to find the Clicker. The only reasonable guess left was the motorcycle club — the old barn behind those locked gates.

Stepping out from behind the trailer, Alex and Saga froze simultaneously: at the gates leading into the trailer park stood a figure in a police uniform, wearing a deer mask. Black darkness swirled around him, like the very breath of the abyss.

Saga narrowed her eyes cautiously, trying to make out the figure through the light mist. Within a second, Alex understood who it was too.

“Mulligan…” he whispered. “Looks like he really got unlucky.”

The man in the mask slowly turned his head toward them — and in that instant, vanished into a swirl of black smoke.

“Mulligan? But what is he doing here?” Saga asked, her eyes fixed on the spot where he had just stood.

“The same as us,” Alex replied calmly. “The Dark Presence is after the Clicker. With it, Scratch will be able to bring his version of the story to life. And then the Darkness will leave the Dark Place.”

“Then we need to hurry before he beats us to it.” Saga dashed forward.

Alex nodded and followed her. Passing through the gates, they left the trailer park and saw Mulligan again — he stood at the end of the road, right in the middle of the asphalt. But as soon as Saga took a step forward, he disappeared once more into clouds of black fog.

Alex suddenly noticed movement on a hill. Behind the trees, another person was hiding — Thornton.

“Look,” Alex said, pointing.

Saga frowned. Now it was clear — not only Mulligan, but Thornton had become Taken as well. And both wore deer masks, identical to those worn by members of the Cult of the Tree.

“That’s why the investigation into the cult stalled,” Saga muttered. “Even the police are involved…”

“Unfortunately,” Alex sighed. “The fate of secondary characters is predetermined. If they don’t die, they become the villain’s pawns.”

Saga just pressed her lips together. She was beginning to understand how the rules of the book written by Alan Wake and his dark double, Scratch, worked. But she still couldn’t accept that ordinary, innocent people were turned into monsters simply because “that’s how it was written.”

They ran onto the asphalt road and began to look around.

“There,” Alex said, pointing in the direction opposite the entrance to the Coffee World.

Saga noticed how the gray mist gradually merged with thick, nearly black swirls. They ran toward it.

The road led them to a fork, where an old sign stood: “Motorcycle Club ‘Crankshaft Knights.'” Trails of fog stretched straight to the barn.

“They’re leading us,” Saga said, feeling her heart tighten.

“Looks like it,” Alex replied, reloading his Ebony pistol.

They ran along the muddy path, leaving footprints that emitted black steam. Soon, Thornton appeared ahead — entering the barn.

Saga immediately drew her gun and turned on the flashlight. Alex drew his Ebony. Approaching the building, they positioned themselves on either side of the wide-open doors. A quick nod — and both peered inside.

There was nothing remarkable inside: an old workshop, piles of crates, half-disassembled motorcycles, a weak lamp hanging from the ceiling. But neither Thornton nor Mulligan could be seen.

Alex stepped in first, scanning slowly. Saga followed, shining her light into the corners.

“Where did they go?” she asked.

“No idea,” Alex replied, squinting. “But the Clicker has to be here somewhere. Maybe there’s a secret passage. I don’t think the Cult of the Tree members were here just for beer and chatter, talking about capturing the Taken and saving their town.”

Saga nodded and began searching the workshop alongside Alex, trying to find any clues that might help locate the Clicker. Alex, of course, already knew where to go, but to avoid raising suspicion, he continued playing his part.

Finding nothing useful, they approached the only door, secured with a combination lock. As an FBI agent, Saga immediately started searching for possible hints to open it. But Alex had a different approach to such obstacles.

“Why bother if the door’s just wood,” he muttered, and with a single kick, he knocked it off along with the lock.

Saga, sitting at the computer searching for the code, flinched at the loud noise and turned around.

“Why am I even trying?” she said wearily, rising from the desk. “Why look for a code when you can just kick the door in?”

“We’re in a hurry,” Alex replied calmly, shrugging. “If needed, I’ll cover the Koskela brothers’ repair costs.”

Saga let out a heavy sigh and nodded, deciding not to waste her nerves — after all, he was right: time was passing.

On the other side of the door, a bright room opened up, filled with crates and tools: belts, crossbow bolts, deer masks, and rain cloaks.

“So this is their lair,” Saga said, stepping across the threshold.

“Hide something? Hide it in plain sight,” Alex smirked. “It’s a motorcycle club. Nobody would think the Cult of the Tree, ritually killing people, would hide here among the locals.”

“You can’t argue with that,” Saga replied, continuing to look around. “I remember a case: one serial killer even helped search… for himself. He gave tips, assisted the police — the perfect citizen.”

Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“He actually helped them look for himself? How messed up do you have to be to pull that off?”

“Exactly,” Saga nodded. “They caught him only because the last victim survived and could identify him. Otherwise, he would have roamed free for much longer.”

Alex froze, trying to process what he’d heard. He’d met idiots before, but that level of… shaking his head, he tossed aside a rug and spotted a hatch leading to the basement.

Saga turned as she heard Alex fiddling with the lock. The door creaked open, and she shone her flashlight downward. Alex glanced at her, nodded, and was the first to start down the steps. Saga followed.

Below stood rows of shelves filled with crates. Behind them, another door glowed faintly, and voices could be heard. Hearing the familiar tones of Mulligan and Thornton, Alex and Saga exchanged glances and silently moved closer.

Taking positions on either side, Alex counted on his fingers and kicked the door open with force.

“Stop! Everyone freeze!” Saga shouted, holding her gun and flashlight.

At the pedestal stood Mulligan and Thornton. Their voices warped, as if a radio were picking up interference. But instead of resisting, they stepped into the shadows and vanished. Saga lunged forward, but they were already gone.

Alex simply watched calmly. He understood: if they took the Clicker from the Taken now, the door to the Fold would close. And he needed to get in to test his insane plan.

“Damn! They took the Clicker. Where do we even look now?” Saga exclaimed irritably.

“Well… probably in the well,” Alex drawled lazily.

“Now we just have to figure out how to open it,” Saga said, looking around thoughtfully. “We know the well is the door to the Fold. But where’s the keyhole?”

“Here’s a hint,” Alex smirked, picking up a dirty sheet of manuscript. “Looks like Thornton and Mulligan decided to leave us a trail after all. How kind of them.”

Saga looked at Alex with a gaze that clearly said, “Are you serious right now?” Alex just smiled in response and handed her the manuscript page.

With a heavy sigh, she took the sheet and began to read. The page explained that in Watery there was another passage to the Fold — the key and keyhole for it was a carnival chariot, which could be used to open the path. It also mentioned that Thornton and Mulligan had already disappeared inside, and a Taken had been sent specifically to hold Saga back.

Saga frowned, but now the path to the Fold was clear.

“There should be a Taken upstairs. We need to be careful,” she said, putting the page into her pocket.

Alex nodded. Together, they headed back to the stairs to climb out of the basement. Alex went up first, weapon ready, followed by Saga.

As she stepped onto the last flight, the lights began to flicker, confirming her suspicion: the Dark Entity had already manifested nearby. When the lamps briefly went out, a dull thud echoed along the wall, and a deep crack appeared in the concrete.

“Time to get out,” Alex whispered.

They cautiously entered the dark workshop. Saga could feel the tension rising — she had never faced anything like this before. Alex, on the other hand, seemed curious, intrigued by which Taken awaited them.

Leaving the room, Saga instinctively tried to reach the exit, but the Dark Entity had already seized part of the workshop’s objects. Tables and tools shifted, blocking the usual path. The only option was a detour through the other end of the room.

With a flashlight in one hand and her pistol in the other, Saga followed Alex quietly.

Alex stopped in front of a wooden wall and aimed.

“Why are we stopping?” Saga asked softly, peeking from behind him.

In response, Alex fired. The bullet hit the center of the board perfectly. The next second, the wall exploded into splinters — a massive Taken with a sledgehammer burst through, more like a monstrous lumberjack than anything else.

Despite its massive body, it moved quickly. Alex shoved Saga aside and dodged at the last moment — the heavy sledgehammer crashed into the floor, sending a web of cracks across the concrete.

Alex stepped on the handle, preventing the Taken from raising its weapon.

“What’s the matter? Did your sledgehammer suddenly get too heavy?” he smirked.

Saga had already gotten up and, without wasting a second, aimed her flashlight beam directly at the Taken. It roared in pain — the darkness on its body began to smoke, and it instinctively covered its eyes while retreating.

Alex kicked the sledgehammer into the air and caught it with his hand. Gripping the handle, he smirked and closed the distance in one swift move. One powerful strike hit the enemy’s legs — a disgusting crunch of bones echoed. The Taken collapsed to the floor.

“Tone down that face,” Alex said, raising the sledgehammer above his head. “You’re just a minion here anyway.”

Moments later, the blow fell. The sledgehammer smashed the Taken’s skull with a monstrous crack — blood mixed with black smoke, splattering across the floor.

Saga turned away, closing her eyes. Even after everything she had seen in the FBI, this sight crossed every line of acceptability.

Alex straightened, released the handle, and wiped blood from his face. Then he reached out, helping Saga to her feet.

“Let’s go. It’s not over yet,” he said shortly.

Saga took Alex by the hand and helped him up from the floor. Then they headed toward the workshop exit. Saga still avoided looking at the fallen Taken — the way it had been killed, and the sight of its body with the sledgehammer protruding from its head, filled her with unease.

Outside, the carnival chariot was already waiting for them.

“There it is,” Saga whispered.

They began examining it, trying to understand exactly how it was connected to the Fold. At the bottom of the fake well, Saga noticed another manuscript page. Taking it out, she quickly skimmed the text.

It explained that Watery’s dark past had become the foundation for the Fold, and the chariot itself was part of a ritual that opened the way into it.

“Find anything?” Alex asked, jumping down from the chariot.

“Yes. To open the Fold, we need to complete the carnival chariot,” Saga replied, putting the page into her pocket.

“Then we just need to figure out what it’s missing,” Alex said thoughtfully, running his fingers along his chin.

Saga nodded and began scanning the area. Her gaze fell on an old table piled with tools. Approaching it, she noticed a sheet of paper — a list of items needed to restore the carnival chariot.

Glancing over the lines, Saga immediately understood what was missing. But something puzzled her: next to all the items, the list indicated where to find them — except for one: the ritual mask, which had to be placed on a mannequin.

“I found the list,” she said, holding the sheet in front of her. “We’re missing three things. You’ve already got one — the plastic knife. That leaves the circuit board, the audio recording, and the ritual mask. All of it should be somewhere in the park… except the mask. It doesn’t say where to get it.”

“Then let’s split up,” Alex suggested. “You look for the circuit board, and I’ll take care of the recording and the mask. Meet back here.”

Saga nodded without objection. She told Alex where to find the audio recording and headed toward the “Espresso World” attraction, where the circuit board should be. Alex handed her the plastic knife — and they returned to the park.

At the edge of the well, Alex noticed something strange: a deer skull-mask, seemingly left there just for them. He nudged Saga with his elbow and pointed at the find.

“Looks like we got lucky,” he said with a slight grin.

Saga checked the list and nodded in agreement, no longer surprised by what was happening — in Watery, miracles had long ceased to be unusual. Alex picked up the skull, and at that moment, felt an irresistible urge to put it on.

He didn’t resist. Pulling the mask over his head, Alex felt the skin beneath it grow cold.

“So? Do I look like a maniac?” he asked, turning to Saga.

“Better find the recording and try not to break the mask — it’s needed for the ritual,” she replied, shining her flashlight on the map of “Coffee World.”

Alex just shrugged. He had no intention of removing the mask — in fact, he thought about keeping it after the ritual. In his personal museum of cursed artifacts, which Zhang Ya had built for him in the Red City, this piece would definitely have an honored place.

“Alright, I’m off then. Be careful,” he said, waving his hand.

With that, Alex set off in search of the recording. At a fork in the path, he realized he’d forgotten to take the park map. Sighing, he stopped under a lamp — and noticed a Taken prowling nearby, like a predator sensing its prey.

From beneath the mask, Alex’s eyes gleamed with a hint of madness. He touched the horns and cast a strengthening spell on the mask. Then he charged forward — and with a running start, impaled the Taken with his horns, driving it into the wall.

The horns pierced the body completely and got stuck in the stone. Alex stepped back, yanked his head out with effort — and the lifeless body slid down the wall. Blood dripped from the horns, splattering on the ground.

“Interesting experience… but awkward,” he muttered, shaking his head to flick off the drops.

Meanwhile, the girls watching the livestream sighed heavily. They had sincerely hoped that at least this time Alex would behave calmly, without his bouts of madness. But, as always, their hopes collided with reality.

Each of them thought their own thoughts as they watched their husband in a bloody deer mask comment on the kill with the same expression someone might have while tasting a new kind of coffee.

Alex, of course, had no idea what they were thinking. And if he had known — he would have worn the most innocent expression in the world, pretending to understand nothing.

Continuing his search, he realized that… he was lost. The park was small, but Alex, being himself, still managed to get turned around.

Beneath the mask, irritation simmered. In one hand, he held the Taken by the neck, keeping it from breaking free. Suddenly, a muffled voice reached his ears.

Squinting slightly, Alex snapped the Taken’s neck and moved toward the sound. The voice led him to the food court area — empty stalls where food was sold.

From there came a creepy recorded laugh. Alex approached and saw the source: a cardboard mannequin shaped like a smiling coffee cup, waving its hand in greeting.

Rolling his eyes, he looked behind it — and discovered a tape recorder taped to the mannequin’s back. The same recording played endlessly on the tape.

“Seriously?” Alex muttered, shaking his head.

He pulled the cassette out and shoved it into his pocket.

“Hope Saga has already found the circuit board,” he said, glancing at the darkening park.

At that moment, Alex heard the sound of gunfire and, without hesitation, ran toward the noise. He arrived just in time — Saga had just shot a Taken and was breathing heavily, trying to regain her composure.

Earlier, she had managed to find the circuit board to power the carnival chariot and had returned. But waiting for Alex, who hadn’t appeared, she began to worry, thinking something might have happened to him. So she went searching. However, as soon as she ventured a little deeper into Coffee World Park, Taken sprang from the darkness. Fighting them off with difficulty, Saga survived only thanks to the flares she had accidentally found in the storage room and wisely brought with her.

She stood there, breathing heavily, gripping her pistol, when she felt someone touch her shoulder. Reflexively, Saga turned, aiming her flashlight and the gun’s barrel at whoever had dared approach her.

Her heart skipped a beat — standing before her was a figure wearing a bloody deer skull mask.

“Yo, I see you managed just fine without me,” Alex said calmly, noticing the flicker of fear in Saga’s eyes.

“Damn it, I almost shot you!” Saga exclaimed, lowering her pistol. “I told you to be careful with that mask! Why’s it all bloody? And where the hell have you been? I found everything, and you were nowhere to be seen!”

“Ah, that…” Alex scratched the back of his head, trying to sound as innocent as possible, though his appearance suggested otherwise. “I got a little lost. Then one of the Taken attacked me. Well… and I accidentally impaled him with my horns. It was an accident, I swear.”

Saga shook her head wearily. Her life over the past few days had become a carnival of madness: she — the heroine of a book who had lost her memory — was fighting darkness that tried to convince her her daughter had drowned… everything felt like a waking nightmare.

Taking a deep breath, Saga decided to focus on the main goal — find the Clicker, retrieve it from Mulligan and Thornton’s Taken, and finally put an end to this nightmare.

They returned to the carnival chariot and arranged the found items in their proper places. Alex, clearly reluctant, removed the skull mask but decided he would take it for his collection later. Once all the pieces were in place, the area suddenly lit up with a blood-red glow, and a strong wind swept through the air.

“It worked. Time to enter the Fold,” Saga said, looking at the well from which distorted voices echoed.

“Then let’s go. Hopefully this time it won’t toss me somewhere else,” Alex muttered, heading toward the well.

Saga nodded silently. She knew that if Alex disappeared again, she’d have to fight the Taken alone — something she wanted to avoid at all costs.

At the well, Alex’s phone vibrated, sending a series of short notifications. He pulled it out of his pocket — the screen was flooded with dozens of messages about an “Alternate World Event” related to the opening of the Fold.

Saga glanced at the screen briefly and felt they needed to hurry before something worse happened. Alex set a timer to track how long they would spend in the Fold and began descending first. Saga followed him.

The sensation was the same as before — a viscous, suffocating plunge, as if they were sinking in a sticky swamp, and an angry scream echoed from the darkness. A moment later, they were standing in a narrow, dark tunnel.

Saga turned on her flashlight, illuminating the path ahead.

“Looks like this time it didn’t throw you anywhere,” she said, trying to joke.

“And I was starting to think the Dark Entity doesn’t like me,” Alex smirked. “Alright, let’s go. There’s a door over there, I think.”

Walking through the dark tunnel, they emerged at an old wooden door. Alex pushed it open, revealing a landscape — a quiet lake and a house on the shore, warm light spilling from its windows.

Saga frowned. The light in the house within the Fold looked… wrong.

“Let’s check it out,” she said quietly, heading toward the house.

Alex activated his magical sight, spreading mana across the area and sensing every distortion. This Fold was truly different from the others: the world seemed torn, cyclical, yet with an unusually large number of doors leading to other pockets of reality.

“Now this is interesting…” he muttered to himself. “I think this is exactly where I can test my crazy plan.”

Meanwhile, Saga was inspecting the cabin. Her attention was immediately drawn to a white sheet of manuscript lying on the table. What she read on the yellowed page made her frown.

The page described a conversation between Mulligan and Thornton — rough, filled with malice and twisted rage. Saga immediately understood what the Dark Place wanted: to make her believe that Mulligan and Thornton had been monsters from the start.

Shaking her head, she folded the page and tucked it into her coat pocket. Stepping out of the cabin, Saga froze — right in front of her, on the ground, was a complex circle filled with inscriptions and symbols. In the very center sat Alex, intently drawing lines with a stick, resembling a mathematical formula so convoluted it was impossible to comprehend.

“Don’t step in. Stay at the threshold and don’t move,” he said without raising his head.

“What are you doing? What are these symbols?” Saga asked, trying to get a closer look.

“It’s a formula,” Alex replied calmly, continuing to draw.

“A formula? What for?” she pressed.

“Remember when I said the Dark Place is like a whirlpool? A spiral? Everything here is twisted, tangled, like a ball of threads. Well — this formula should help unravel them. At least, that’s the hope,” he said thoughtfully, adding the final strokes.

“And you really think these scribbles will help? Some kind of math magic?” Saga remarked with irony, crouching at the entrance.

“Everything depends on how you look at the world,” Alex said calmly, not taking his eyes off the circle. “Reality obeys the laws of physics. But this world obeys what’s written… and what you believe. This formula is a way to create a chain. To untangle the chaos and turn it into a single straight thread leading to the very bottom of the Whirlpool. Where the real Alan Wake is.”

He looked up, lost in thought for a moment.

“The Alan who stayed in the motel with Casey and Emmet — that’s a character in the book. The real one is still trapped at the bottom. If I do everything right, then…” He faltered.

“Then what?” Saga asked, frowning. “You’ll go to the very bottom to pull out Alan Wake? Or are you planning to lock up the Dark Place itself?”

“If I’m lucky, I can close all the doors at once. Leave only one — the one right at the bottom of Cauldron Lake. Once they align in a straight line, I can descend. Then the Spiral will be broken. All these Folds will disappear. Everyone will get a chance to live… theoretically,” Alex said, finishing the formula and straightening up.

He paused, then added with a slight smirk:

“Although life is relative. No one knows if tomorrow will come. Because tomorrow… never comes.”

Saga squinted.

“Philosophizing now? Maybe you should have chosen another profession — like a psychotherapist?”

“Nah,” Alex smirked. “I’m way too lazy to listen to couples whining endlessly about how their love doesn’t burn as bright anymore. That’s beyond my strength.”

He stretched, looking at his drawings.

“Alright, that should be everything. If my calculations are correct, once I record the solution, everything should start moving. Hopefully…”

Saga crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe.

“And what are we supposed to expect? Will something change? Effects, flashes, thunder, lightning, signs in the sky?”

“Who knows?” Alex replied, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. “Theoretically, the circle should stretch into a straight line. And if it starts glowing — well, then my years in math and physics classes weren’t wasted after all.”

Saga regarded Alex’s words with skepticism. His plan seemed insane to her, almost absurd. She already knew from his stories what the Dark Place looked like and could not believe that a single formula drawn on the ground could actually alter the space itself.

Nevertheless, she decided not to interfere — let him try. After all, they had nothing to lose… except time.

Alex finished drawing, tossed the branch aside, and straightened up. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Saga sighed — it seemed Alex had miscalculated.

But suddenly, the ground beneath their feet trembled. Light subterranean shocks rippled beneath the cabin, the air quivered, and the space around them began to warp, like an old television screen flickering with static. When Saga blinked, the circle Alex had drawn on the ground stretched into a long line, disappearing into the forest. Another tremor — and the space warped again. Saga blinked a second time… and the formula vanished.

“Did it work? Or not?” she asked, turning to Alex.

“Everything went as planned,” he replied calmly, brushing dust off his hands. “Now, once we close this Fold after dealing with Thornton and Mulligan, the only entrance will be in Cauldron Lake. Whew… didn’t think I’d have to strain my brain like that again. I really should quit — thinking’s bad for your health.”

“Do you even realize what you just did?” Saga asked, stunned, staring at him.

“Well, I just made a space that didn’t obey the laws of physics start obeying them,” Alex said lazily, rolling his eyes. “You just need to know how. I wasn’t born smart for nothing.”

Saga was speechless. She tried to process his words, but the more she thought, the less she understood how his logic worked. Sometimes Alex seemed carefree, sometimes wise, and at other moments, a mad genius playing with reality like a toy.

Alex merely smirked. What he had drawn on the ground was far from an ordinary mathematical formula. It was a magical construct — a formula of space, designed to stabilize the very fabric of reality. He knew the power of words. After all, if the Anti-Life Equation and the Life Equation exist, then they too are made of words — words capable of creation and destruction.

To be continued…

(Today was a really weird day for me. More accurately, it almost drove me crazy. I needed to go outside to pick up a package from the courier, and it was pouring rain. And guess what happened? Correct answer: some asshole in a car doused me from head to toe with dirty water from a puddle. And when he heard what I thought of him, he decided to pretend to be an alpha male in front of his chick. But in reality, he turned out to be a clown who almost cried when he heard what I really thought of him. He just didn’t know that my experience of insulting people is so colorful that not everyone can listen to it to the end. Muhahahaha.)

Early access to chapters on my patreon: p*treon.com/GreedHunter

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep