After killing the Taken old woman named Cynthia, Alex warned Emmet to be ready — once the sun set, the Dark Presence would organize an attack on the sheriff’s station. He didn’t know who would lead it — the Presence itself or Scratch — but one thing was certain: the attack was inevitable.

With his hands in the pockets of his coat, Alex lazily walked out of the forest and found himself once again on the grounds of Valhalla — the retirement home. After scanning the area carefully, he headed toward the spot where, according to his memory, the Fold was located — the very place where Cynthia was supposed to lure Tor Anderson to kill him.

From memory, Alex knew the Fold was in the center of an artificial lake in the facility’s courtyard. Reaching the fence, he didn’t bother to look for a way in — he simply became intangible and walked straight through the metal bars without slowing his pace.

The courtyard looked surprisingly peaceful. Everything seemed calm and cozy, except for a faint trace of dark mist slowly seeping from the cracks of the Fold. It wasn’t enough to cause harm, but its very presence was unsettling.

Alex approached the edge of the artificial lake, crouched down, and touched the water with his fingers. He wanted to make sure the leak of Darkness from the Fold posed no immediate danger — at least not until he shattered the Spiral. Once he was certain everything was fine, he stood up, flicked the water from his fingers, and exhaled heavily.

Lighting a cigarette, Alex sank into thought. He tried to recall how to reach the final Fold — the one hidden in Cauldron Lake. With each drag, the memories slowly returned.

He remembered that creativity had always been the key to opening the Folds. To open the gateway to the Dark Place itself, one needed the Clicker — an amplifier, a conduit between worlds. Realizing this, Alex smirked and chuckled quietly, amused by his own forgetfulness. All this time, he’d been overthinking something that had been right in front of him.

But along with that memory came a new, insane idea — bold, yet tempting. Alex thought: if the Dark Place was a separate dimension, then why destroy it? Why not simply absorb it?

The thought made him laugh — softly at first, but the laughter grew increasingly manic. The more he thought about the plan, the more appealing it became.

Meanwhile, Saga sat in the infirmary, between two beds where Tor and Odin Anderson lay.

At first, she didn’t know what to do: Tor was rambling nonsense, while Odin desperately tried to bring his brother back to his senses. After some time, Tor finally opened his eyes — and immediately began cursing furiously in Norwegian, damning Cynthia with every word he could think of.

When he finally calmed down, his eyes fell on Saga. She looked at him with a mix of surprise and concern, but Tor, long used to such looks, simply cleared his throat and, unexpectedly, hugged her.

At first, Saga was startled and tried to pull away, but eventually, she allowed the old man to hold her. Once the family was finally reunited, Saga asked them to tell her about the past.

As expected, Tor and Odin didn’t hold back. They smiled as they spoke about her childhood — how she had been their “little sweet pastry,” always poking her nose everywhere, eager to learn everything and ask endless questions. The old men weren’t surprised she’d become an FBI agent — on the contrary, they were proud of her.

The longer Saga listened, the harder it became for her to suppress her smile. Despite their age and eccentricity, they truly cared for her.

“Ah, Saga,” said Odin softly, taking her hand. “We’re old men now. Darkness has long lurked in the waters, but we still have a few tricks up our sleeves. Just like you, our dear granddaughter. We’re proud of you. And it’s good that you came back — just in time, before things got worse. We’re not what we used to be, but we believe you’ll handle it. You’re an Anderson, after all.”

“Thank you,” Saga said quietly, squeezing his hand. “But all the Folds are already closed.”

“What do you mean, ‘closed’?” Tor asked in surprise. “Did we miss something while we were sleeping off our hangover?”

“Agent Voldigoad closed all the doors except one. The one at the bottom of Cauldron Lake,” Saga explained, trying to keep her voice steady. But the memory of the shattered Fold in Watery still echoed in her mind.

She couldn’t forget that blinding light, the magic circle, and the overwhelming sense of unreality. It all felt like something beyond human comprehension.

Hearing her words, Tor and Odin exchanged glances — and then burst out laughing like two old men who’d just heard the best news of their lives.

“Ah, I told you,” Tor said between laughs. “That guy’s no ordinary man. Even my eye can’t see him!”

“What do you mean, ‘can’t see’?” Saga asked warily. “You’re saying he’s hidden from you?”

“Ah, my sweet granddaughter,” said Tor, gently patting her hand. “This world is full of secrets — good and bad. But your companion isn’t just part of one of them. He is one himself. Any secret can be unraveled if you find the right key… but that man — he’s different. Unless he chooses to reveal himself, you’ll never truly understand him.”

“Don’t drag her into this world,” came a familiar voice from behind the door. “Unlike you old men, she still has something to lose.”

Saga, Tor, and Odin turned their heads toward the voice — Alex was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. In one hand, he held a bottle with no label, and on his face was that same tired yet faintly mocking smirk.

Hearing his words, Tor and Odin exchanged a heavy glance and sighed. They knew Alex was right. In their burst of joy, they had almost pulled their granddaughter into a world they themselves had long tried to escape. For the two of them, it was already too late to change anything — but Saga still had a chance. A chance for a normal life, even if she was still an FBI agent.

Alex walked into the infirmary, set the bottle down on the table, and pulled a chair closer to the beds where Tor and Odin lay.

“Saga,” he began in a calm, even voice, “I’ll tell you the same thing I’d tell anyone else. Once things in Bright Falls settle down — you’re going home. Back to your family. To a normal life. A house, a job, ordinary days. If you keep diving into this mess, you’ll endanger not just yourself, but everyone you care about.”

Saga wanted to argue, but Tor gently raised his hand, silencing her.

“He’s right, sweetheart,” the old man said, letting out a weary sigh. “We were so happy to see you again that we forgot… Even if you’re an Anderson, you’re a mother first. Your mom, Freya — may Odin bless her soul — was just like you when she was young. Stubborn, brave, hungry for secrets. But when you were born… she changed. She realized this world wasn’t for her. She wanted to protect you.”

Tor’s voice trembled.

“We were angry when she took you away. But later, we understood — she just wanted you to have a normal life. Away from all this darkness.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“Then why didn’t she tell me?” Saga asked, frowning. “Why didn’t she say I had grandfathers?”

Tor gave a bitter chuckle.

“You were part of our crazy family long before this nightmare began. I was a terrible father, Saga. Your mother didn’t deserve that. I said awful things to her, and I still regret it. And your father… he added his own share of chaos.” Tor fell silent for a moment, then squeezed her hand. “I know Freya’s gone. But I still want to ask for forgiveness, even if it’s too late. Forgive me, if you can. I was a horrible father — and an even worse grandfather. I’m so sorry I never saw my daughter one last time. I wish I could take back what I said. But the past can’t be changed… all I can do is ask for forgiveness.”

Saga silently squeezed his hand, feeling warm tears stream down her cheeks. She could see it — Tor was truly remorseful. All those years, he had carried a crushing burden of guilt, and now, at last, he allowed himself to let it go.

“I know,” Saga said softly. “Mom already forgave you. I saw it in her eyes… that last day. She wanted to see you.”

Tor closed his eyes and exhaled heavily.

“Thank you, sweetheart… I needed to hear that.” He wiped his tears with a trembling hand and tried to smile.

Alex stood a little apart, watching them. He didn’t interfere — he just sighed and looked away. He understood what Tor had gone through. Years of self-hatred, regret… and finally — forgiveness. Simple, but real.

The conversation smoothly shifted into memories.

Saga listened as Thor and Odin spoke about the youth of Freya Anderson — what she was like, how she constantly got into trouble, and how she once nearly burned down a barn while trying to “summon inspiration.” There was warmth in their stories, and for the first time in a long while, Saga felt truly at home.

Alex sat quietly aside, not interfering. Evening had quietly settled over the town. Through the window, he saw the sun finally disappear beyond the horizon. Pulling out his phone, Alex connected to the fairy drone monitoring Emmet. The screen showed a calm scene: the sheriff’s office building — no signs of danger.

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned his attention to the conversation again.

When Thor finished talking about Freya, Saga carefully asked,

“Who was my father?”

This time, both old men fell silent. Thor and Odin exchanged glances but said nothing — they only shook their heads.

“He disappeared,” Odin said quietly. “On the day a great storm struck the town. No one ever saw him again after that.”

Saga frowned, but Thor simply looked away.

Alex, sitting to the side, observed their reactions. He could tell from their faces — they were lying. They knew who Saga’s father was, knew what had happened to him, but hid the truth to protect her.

He didn’t say a word. But deep down, Alex already knew the truth. Saga’s father was Mr. Door — the man who could open gateways to any universe at will.

Meanwhile, Saga couldn’t help but wonder about the identity of her father, who had vanished without a trace. Part of her longed for the truth, but another part sensed the subtle hints from her two grandfathers — they clearly weren’t ready to share that secret. Their silence wasn’t accidental.

With a sigh, Saga decided to postpone the topic for another time. Soon, the conversation turned to Alex — more precisely, to how he managed to close all doors except one. Alex tried to explain it in simple words, but judging by the expressions on Thor’s and Odin’s faces, it was clear they didn’t understand a single thing.

Their faces practically said: “What the hell is this guy even talking about?”

Alex let out a heavy sigh, preparing to explain everything again, but just then his phone emitted a short beep. He took it out and read a message from Lucina: “The sheriff’s office is under attack by the Taken.”

“Looks like it’s time to go, Saga. The sheriff’s office is under attack by the Taken,” Alex said, standing up from his chair.

Saga immediately rose to her feet and quickly said goodbye to Thor and Odin. There was a flicker of worry in her eyes — she was anxious about her partner, Casey.

Before leaving, Alex set the bottle of alcohol he had brought in front of the two old men and nodded to them.

“Take care of our granddaughter, King,” Odin said, looking at him with a faint smile.

“Heh. Don’t worry, old man. She won’t repeat her original fate. By morning, this will all be over,” Alex replied, waving his hand and stepping out of the retirement home — not even surprised that the old man knew.

They ran outside and sprinted back the same route toward Bright Falls. The forest was drowned in darkness, and only the lights on Saga’s belt carved thin lines through the night.

Alex ran ahead, glancing back now and then to make sure Saga wasn’t falling behind. She noticed and tried to keep up. But the darkness distorted the forest — it felt as though the trail stretched endlessly into nowhere.

Suddenly, a Taken jumped out from behind a tree, an axe in hand.

“Watch out, ahead!” Saga shouted.

Alex instantly turned his head and saw the attacker. Without slowing down, he rammed into the Taken, intercepted the swinging axe, and swept the creature’s legs out from under it. The enemy fell, losing its weapon.

With a single motion, Alex picked up the axe and drove the blade straight into the Taken’s head.

“Don’t stop. If more show up — ignore them. If they block the path, I’ll handle it,” he said, wiping the blade on the ground before breaking into a run again.

Saga silently nodded, drawing her pistol and flashlight.

The darkness thickened — heavy and alien. Alex realized then: the Dark Presence was behind all of this. The forest twisted and stretched around them, looping endlessly like a dream.

A shadow flickered from behind a tree ahead — another Taken. It lingered in the darkness, waiting. As Alex approached, the creature hurled its axe at neck level. Alex ducked low, sliding across the ground beneath the swing, then twisted sharply and kicked the Taken in the head with full force. There was a crack of bone, and the body slumped sideways.

Alex grabbed the fallen axe — but then a gunshot rang out. A bullet whizzed past his shoulder.

He spun around and saw another Taken collapsing behind him, a perfect shot straight between the eyes. Saga stood further back, pistol raised, smoke curling from the barrel.

“Don’t thank me,” she said calmly, keeping the gun aimed past Alex’s shoulder.

Alex smirked, hefted the axe, and sprinted forward.

Saga didn’t waste a second — she dashed after him, keeping pace as best she could. With each step, the forest grew thicker, the air heavier. The Taken were appearing more and more frequently, as if the Dark Presence itself was determined to stop them at any cost.

Alex understood it all too well — he had interfered with the story’s flow so much that he was now disrupting the Dark Presence’s own plans. His influence on the narrative had warped Saga’s destiny, erasing the path she had originally been meant to follow.

Another group of Taken emerged ahead. Without slowing down, Alex spun on the run and hurled the axe he had taken earlier. It spun through the air and buried itself in the central Taken’s head. The creature dropped wordlessly to the ground.

Saga stopped just long enough to lift her flashlight and shine it on the left one. The beam tore away the veil of Darkness, and she fired three quick shots — one to the head, two to the chest.

Alex was already in front of the last Taken. Grabbing it by the throat, he lifted it with ease and slammed it into the ground. Then he yanked the axe from the previous enemy’s skull and brought it down hard, splitting the fallen creature’s head open.

“How many groups was that already?” Saga asked, stepping closer.

“No idea. Maybe the fifth. These bastards keep popping up like rats from under the floorboards. What worries me more is this — they’re not letting us out,” Alex replied, pulling the axe free again. “We took this same path to the retirement home and got there quickly. Now we’re running — and it feels like we’re going in circles.”

“You think the Dark Presence is keeping us here?” Saga frowned. “Maybe we’re caught in a Fold? Or reality has merged so much with the book that it’s gained more control?”

“Hmm… possible,” Alex murmured thoughtfully. “When I chased that old woman, Cynthia, the Dark Presence said the final act had begun. That means the book has almost completely merged with this place.”

He touched his chin and activated his magical sight.

The world around him immediately distorted. The forest seemed to tremble — spatial lines bent, and the air itself warped. Looking up, Alex saw a massive distortion above Bright Falls, stretching over the town and the lake. The source was obvious — Scratch, who had taken over Alan Wake’s body.

Alex tapped his chin, thinking about how to reach the town. Time was running short. He believed Emmet and Casey could handle themselves, but standing idle wasn’t an option.

“Can’t you use that same trick you pulled in Watery?” Saga asked, breaking his train of thought.

“It’s not that simple,” Alex replied, then suddenly his eyes lit up. “But I think I know what to do. Run after me and don’t fall behind. Looks like we took the wrong path.”

He turned sharply, and without asking questions, Saga followed him. This wasn’t the time for discussion.

They ran back along the same route they’d taken before. Soon they reached an old wooden bridge. Just as Alex suspected — it was simple: they had been trapped in a loop.

Beyond the bridge stood an old cabin. Alex turned immediately, taking a narrow trail along the lakeshore, and Saga followed close behind without hesitation.

This time, the path was clear — not a single Taken in sight. Everything went smoothly… until they reached Billy’s Boatyard.

The new Taken emerged from between the boats — this time dressed like boatmen. Alex charged forward while Saga covered him with fire. A few quick strikes, a couple of shots — and silence fell.

They reached a tall wooden fence. Alex kicked the gate down with force, and in that instant everything around them changed.

A familiar motel spread out before them — the Elderwood Palace.

“Something’s wrong…” Saga murmured, looking around. “There are no people, and it’s too quiet. There should be chaos here. And heaps of bodies.”

“The story has almost become reality,” Alex answered calmly. “Those who didn’t resist have already been drawn into the book. Look — even the cultists’ corpses have vanished. It’s as if everything returned to normal.”

“You mean these people… have already become part of the story for good?” Saga asked, pointing at passersby moving about impassively.

“Yes. Watch their movements. See how they repeat the same thing?” Alex pointed to a woman sweeping a path. “There are no leaves, and she still sweeps. Like a puppet stuck in someone else’s script.”

Saga did as Alex said and looked more closely at the woman he indicated.

As he said, her motions were monotonous and mechanical — the woman swept invisible leaves with the same movement, without the slightest deviation, like a puppet robbed of its own will.

Saga frowned. The thought that if they failed today nothing could be changed pierced her heart. Alex had said the final act of the story had begun — and that could only mean one thing: the end was near.

They moved toward the sheriff’s office, trying to walk calmly so as not to attract attention.

Alex activated his magical sight — and immediately saw thin black threads stretching from the townspeople, controlling their bodies. Each of those people was just a shell, an empty vessel through which the Darkness made reality play by its rules.

Saga walked beside him, glancing warily around. Her hand kept drifting toward her holster — she didn’t know how those people might behave if they detected intruders.

They reached the police station relatively quietly, if you didn’t count the lifeless stares watching them from windows and shadows.

Alex clicked his tongue when he saw the building plunged in darkness. Not a single light. He knew Emmet was alive — he wore the amulet Alex had given him earlier.

They exchanged short looks and approached the entrance. Saga grabbed the handle, pulled — and the door opened with a drawn-out creak.

“Is anyone alive?” she called loudly, shining her flashlight inside.

“I’m here… in the closet,” came a woman’s voice from deep within the room.

They moved toward the sound. A long bloody trail stretched across the floor and led to the left. Alex elbowed Saga and nodded at the stains.

Saga immediately understood — Agent Kiran Esteves was wounded.

Alex approached the door and knocked.

“It’s not locked in here,” came a weak voice from behind the door.

He cautiously opened the closet and found Kiran sitting on the floor, clutching a bloodied leg.

Saga quickly knelt beside her and pulled out a first-aid kit.

“Agent Anderson,” Kiran exhaled, trying to keep her composure. “I did ask you clearly not to interfere in this matter.”

Alex scoffed and squatted across from her, folding his arms.

“Judging by your condition, Kiran, Agent Anderson did a far better job than you and your clueless team. She closed two Folds and cut down a bunch of Taken, and you — as always — managed to screw things up. How helpless you lot are,” he said, not hiding his irritation.

“Agent Voldigoad, you’re crossing a line,” Kiran spat through clenched teeth while Saga carefully bandaged her wound.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Alex replied calmly, propping his cheek on his hand. “If you’d come a day later, I’d have finished it all. With you or without you. You only added bodies in this town. Isn’t the Bureau supposed to deal with anomalies? So why do you mess it up every time?”

Kiran pressed her lips together, holding herself back.

“Now is not the time for lectures,” she said tiredly. “One of my people… he was taken by the shadow. He’s somewhere here. We need to find him.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Alex said, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. “How many FBC agents are still alive? And where are Emmet and Casey?”

“When the Shadows attacked us, Kallen and Casey went to turn on the power. How many survived… I don’t know,” Kiran answered bitterly.

Alex exhaled smoke and muttered softly, “Ah… again I have to wipe your asses.”

He stood, slung the axe over his shoulder, and looked at Saga.

“Watch over her. I’ll find the others and turn the lights back on.”

“Be careful,” Saga nodded.

“Take the keys,” Kiran said, handing him a ring. “After the power went out the doors locked.”

Alex caught the keys, took off his coat, and hung it on the hook by the door. Then, without wasting time, he closed the storage room behind him, leaving Saga and Kiran inside. Stretching slightly, he slung the axe over his shoulder and set off in search of the Taken FBC agent.

He found him rather quickly — the man stood over a colleague’s body, gripping a rusty metal pipe in his hands. Alex lowered the axe and quietly knocked his knuckles against the wooden doorframe to draw attention. The Taken slowly turned — and the next moment, his head was already flying off to the side. The body collapsed to the floor, and the head rolled, stopping right at Alex’s feet.

He flicked the blood off the axe’s blade and headed down to the basement — where the morgue was located. Alex could feel it: Emmet, Casey, and a few other survivors were down there. Descending the stairs, he immediately noticed the signs of a massacre — FBC agents and police officers were lying everywhere. Some had gunshot wounds; others looked like they had been torn apart.

Alex grimaced. Those who had been shot were probably already Taken. The rest… just didn’t make it in time.

He lowered the axe and tapped the wall, and a dull echo stretched through the basement corridor. Within seconds, footsteps came from all directions — from the dark doorways, one by one, the Taken began to emerge, staggering and clutching whatever they could find: pipes, knives, pieces of broken furniture.

Alex pulled out a cigarette, flicked the lighter, and took a short drag.

“Well then… let’s do this,” he smirked, tossing the cigarette butt aside.

He lunged forward, and the first Taken was cleaved in two. Alex didn’t stop — he moved like a whirlwind, cutting down everything in his path. The axe struck with deadly precision, each blow sending sprays of blood and scraps of fabric flying. Among the Taken were former agents, police officers, rangers, and even fanatics from the Tree cult.

By the time Alex reached the end of the corridor, a heap of mutilated bodies lay behind him. His once-white shirt was now soaked in blood.

He shook the blood off the blade and looked at the door at the far end — faint light seeped through it, and muffled voices could be heard from the other side.

Alex knocked on the door with the axe.”Open up, Emmet. Don’t make me yell, ‘Here’s Johnny.'”

A familiar laugh came from the other side. Emmet opened the door, and the light from the lamp hanging in the center of the room hit Alex’s face. As expected, besides Emmet and Casey, there were a few other surviving FBC agents, all wounded to varying degrees.

Emmet looked Alex up and down and snorted.”You look like an axe murderer right now. If I didn’t know who you were, I’d have pissed myself. Judging by the mess behind you, you handled it all. Nice work.”

“I have a question,” Alex said dryly. “Why didn’t you handle it yourself?”

“Well, you know… things happened too fast,” Emmet shrugged. “We didn’t even manage to turn the lights on before the Taken jumped us. So we got trapped here. See, Casey? I told you he’d manage.”

“Yeah,” Casey exhaled, holding his bandaged arm. “Now I get why you spoke so highly of him. It’s kinda creepy, honestly.”

“And what exactly did you say about me?” Alex narrowed his eyes.

“Nothing much… just little things,” Emmet said with an innocent smile.

“Whatever. Give me the fuse — I’ll go turn on the power, and then we can head upstairs.”

“Here, take it. We’re counting on you. Good luck,” said Emmet, placing the fuse in Alex’s palm and immediately slamming the door shut.

Alex blinked, his eye twitching slightly.

“Yeah. Perfect,” he muttered under his breath.

Shaking his head, he mentally promised to settle things with Emmet later and went off to look for the electrical panel. He found it quickly — replaced the blown fuse and flipped the switch. The light flickered and came on, bringing the building back to life.

When Alex returned, the surviving agents were already helping each other up. Emmet was supporting Casey, who was limping.

As they climbed the stairs, Emmet explained that at some point the lights had simply gone out, and then one of the agents suddenly became Taken and started a slaughter. The dead turned into the same monsters, and everything became a real nightmare. Emmet, Casey and the remnants of the group managed to barricade themselves in a room — and they were saved only by the weak light of a lamp Casey had found in the storage room.

Alex, Emmet and Casey went upstairs. As the light came on, the Taken began to slowly dissipate, as if dissolving into the air, leaving no trace. The only reminder of the massacre was the bodies of FBC agents and police officers who had no chance to become Taken.

Entering the main hall, the three saw Saga talking with Kiran Estevez. The remaining survivors were bandaging wounds and whispering to each other, trying not to look at the pile of empty casings and the blood on the walls.

The toll was horrific — out of more than twenty FBC agents and ten police officers, only three agents and their leader, Kiran Estevez, survived. Not a single police officer lived until the lights were turned back on. Alex only sighed heavily and shook his head. He knew death was a common companion on missions like this. Especially when what you face are not people.

“Will the FBC send reinforcements?” Saga asked as Alex, Emmet and Casey came closer.

“We were the reinforcement,” Kiran replied, wearily running a hand over her face. “Well, and the ‘Lake House’ team, but they have their own assignment. So… that’s everyone left.”

“Yeah, not exactly a crowd,” Alex said calmly, sitting on the edge of a table opposite Kiran. “For some reason I expected the FBC to be at least a little more competent.”

“I see you don’t spare words, Agent Voldigoad. What were you doing while all this happened?” Kiran asked coldly, trying to preserve the remains of her authority.

“For starters, I closed all the Folds. Then I stopped the old woman who the Dark Entity had possessed. After that I started working out a plan to tear the Spiral apart and seal Cauldron Lake for good. Oh, by the way,” Alex smirked, “that Alan Wake you have locked up in the next room — he’s not the real one. The real Wake is right at the bottom of the Whirlpool.”

Kiran opened her mouth but quickly shut it. Every word from Alex felt like a slap. She didn’t feel like the mission leader — she felt like a schoolgirl being taught basic arithmetic.

Alex watched her reaction, happily swinging his leg. A plan was already forming in his head, but he understood the risk was enormous. To reach the real Wake, he’d have to throw open all the Whirlpool doors at once. But if he did, the Dark Entity would instantly spill legions of the Taken onto the shores of Cauldron Lake. And then holding them back would become nearly impossible.

“All right, Kiran,” he finally said, sighing. “I won’t tease you anymore. But I have a question: can you recall the ‘Lake House’ team? Or is that beyond your authority?”

“Unfortunately, no. They have orders to stop the Taken that escaped from the lake. They operate independently,” she shook her head.

“Alex, why do you need people?” Emmet asked, crossing his arms.

“Because for my insane plan, four people are clearly not enough,” Alex said, drumming his fingers on the table.

“And what plan is that, Agent Voldigoad?” Kiran frowned.

“I closed all the doors except one — the one that leads to the lake bottom. I want to open them all at once and go down for Wake. If I pull him out — it’s over. The cycle will be broken,” Alex said, lighting a cigarette.

“But why do you need help?” Casey asked, leaning on the table.

“Because, if the doors are opened simultaneously,” Kiran replied calmly, cutting Alex off, “a wave of the Taken will pour ashore. He wants to go down, but while he’s down there, someone has to hold them here. Am I right, Agent Voldigoad?”

Alex nodded.

“Exactly.”

“Can’t you call support from your organization?” Saga asked, tilting her head slightly.

Alex raised an eyebrow. The idea wasn’t bad, but he wasn’t sure how many people were available right now. He pulled out his phone and quickly opened the family chat — in other words, he texted Brunhilde, Koko, Yuriko, and Saya, who were currently coordinating the guild’s operations.

The reply came almost instantly: Brunhilde reported that there was one free group. Alex was about to agree… until he saw who exactly it was.

He exhaled heavily and closed his eyes, as if trying to come to terms with reality.

The available team turned out to be a group of former Cosa Nostra mafia members whom GIR, MIMI, and Stitch had, after long “re-education” sessions and lectures about the Light of the Emperor, turned into fanatical yet extremely reliable warriors — the Black Templars.

Alex had nothing against them personally. It was just that their zeal sometimes went far beyond the bounds of common sense. The reports he had read about their “missions” occasionally made his eye twitch. But right now, people like them were exactly what he needed — fearless fanatics.

He quickly typed a message telling them to deploy and promised to meet them near the sheriff’s station.

Emmet, Saga, Casey, and Kiran watched as Alex’s expression shifted from focused to resigned, and they exchanged glances, hesitant to ask what exactly he had found out.

“Judging by your face… it’s not that simple, is it?” Emmet asked cautiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Alex muttered, taking out a new cigarette and exhaling smoke. “It’s only just beginning.”

To be continued…

(Oh yeah. This is the 500th chapter. Yes, yes, I know, we made it this far. And since you’re still reading this, know that I love you and appreciate your support. You truly warm my heart by reading my fanfic. I’m so happy. And I hope you’ll continue to stay with me.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep