When Alex fully submerged into the crimson waters of Cauldron Lake, he was engulfed by a familiar yet still unsettling sensation — as if he were diving underwater, even though the water around him was no longer there.

In the moment the whirlpool began pulling him in, Alex caught himself wondering — how would the Red City change once it absorbed the Dark Place? Would it grow larger, stronger? Or simply gain new “residents” in the form of the Taken, now under Zhang Ya’s command?

After all, she hadn’t just conquered the Dark Place — she had wrested control away from the Dark Presence itself, leaving it with only a tiny scrap — one final Fold. And she had done it deliberately. Zhang Ya had left a small island of darkness so that the Dark Presence wouldn’t vanish completely.

When the feeling of descent disappeared, Alex blinked — and found himself in a long, endless red corridor. Beneath his feet stretched a luxurious crimson carpet that ran far into the distance. The walls were decorated with red wallpaper adorned with elegant patterns, illuminated by the soft glow of lamps. On either side stood rows of identical red doors stretching beyond the horizon.

Alex wasn’t surprised. Everything looked exactly as he expected — the Dark Place had now taken shape and order, becoming the Red City. He glanced back; behind him stretched the same endless corridor.

“Where am I now?” he muttered. “In the middle? As usual.”

He scratched the back of his head and sighed. Zhang Ya had created all this splendor, but she hadn’t bothered to leave any signs for her husband. And she knew perfectly well that he could get lost even in a straight hallway.

After a moment’s thought, Alex smirked and decided to follow his “mad logic”: if the path ahead is long — go back.

But the moment he took a step, a strand of long black hair slid from the shadows behind him. It wrapped softly yet insistently around his head, turning it back — toward the direction he had been looking before.

“Alright, alright, I get it, darling,” said Alex, feeling his neck crack ominously. “No need to try twisting my head off. You could’ve at least put up some arrows — it’s your domain now, after all.”

Zhang Ya’s hair stirred irritably, wrapping around his face as if expressing displeasure. Despite that, Alex calmly started walking forward, in the direction she indicated.

As he passed by the red doors, he occasionally heard muffled voices, whispers, and faint echoes of other people’s stories. Curiosity gnawed at him, but whenever he slowed down or reached for a handle, Zhang Ya’s hair began pushing or even dragging him forward by the shoulders.

Like the other women in Alex’s family, Zhang Ya understood perfectly well that if her husband took an interest in something — anything — he could completely forget why he came there in the first place. That’s why she wasn’t going to let him waste time peeking behind random doors.

But, as one purple potato once said, reality is often disappointing.

Soon, the quiet corridor was filled with a loud yell. Alex, now turned into a ten-year-old boy, was clinging desperately to a door handle, shouting:

“Let me go, Zhang Ya! I’ll just take a quick look! Come on! Alan Wake, Scratch, and that old hag aren’t going anywhere!”

Zhang Ya still didn’t listen to a word he said, continuing to drag him away by his legs. And even though, in the form of a ten-year-old, he looked adorably cute and she wanted to hug him, she wasn’t about to let him open any red doors.

Having lived in Alex’s shadow 25/8, Zhang Ya knew him just as well as Brunhilde did — maybe even better. She knew that if he opened one door, there would be another, and another. And it would go on until he either opened them all or came up with yet another insane plan.

The girls watching the broadcast were laughing so hard they fell off their seats, while others cheered Zhang Ya on, telling her not to let Alex open the doors.

If Alex had known at that moment that all the women in his family had collectively turned against him and didn’t believe a single word he said, he probably would’ve felt an offense of cosmic proportions.

But Alex didn’t know that. At that moment, his desire to open the Red Door he was clinging to only grew stronger — the more he was forbidden, the more he wanted it. Seeing that simple methods weren’t working, Zhang Ya’s hair began to stir, coming alive and crawling over Alex’s body, wrapping around him and forming a cocoon of hair.

Her black strands coiled tighter and tighter, weaving around him until the little boy was completely encased in a cocoon of dark threads.

“Hey! That’s not fair!” he protested in a childish voice, though he didn’t resist — he didn’t want to hurt his beloved.

At last, Zhang Ya lifted the cocoon containing Alex, gently set it down on the floor, and released him. The hair slid smoothly back into her shadow.

Alex stood beside her, frowning as he glared at the door he had been so desperate to open. His eyes burned with curiosity and stubbornness.

Zhang Ya sighed and took his small hand, as if afraid he might bolt off again.

“Alright,” Alex said, sulking. “You win. This time.”

Zhang Ya only gave a faint smile, and her hair brushed softly over his shoulder — a gentle reminder of who was in charge here.

She looked at Alex calmly — her crimson eyes reflecting mild indifference, as if she didn’t take his words seriously.

Alex was still in the form of a ten-year-old boy. His small hand, held in Zhang Ya’s, looked fragile but clung stubbornly to her fingers as she led him through the long, crimson-painted corridor. He walked beside her, seemingly calm, almost obedient.

But Zhang Ya knew her husband far too well. She kept glancing at him from time to time, making sure he wasn’t planning another attempt to slip away and open one of the many doors lining the hallway.

If the circumstances were different, she might have let him. But as a responsible and, admittedly, rather traditional wife, Zhang Ya believed her husband should finish his work before indulging in any of his “little adventures.”

Meanwhile, Alex was quietly scheming, giving nothing away. In the body of a ten-year-old, he looked impossibly cute and harmless — which only made it easier for him to hide his true intentions. He walked calmly… until, all of a sudden, he slipped out of her hand.

With a wide grin, he dashed to the nearest door, grabbed the handle, and turned back to shout cheerfully:

“Ha-ha-ha! I win this time, darling! Let’s see what’s hiding behind this door!”

Zhang Ya didn’t have time to react before Alex swung the Red Door open.

Behind it was, at first glance, an ordinary Japanese-style bathroom. Everything looked calm — except for the strange green creature standing by the tub.

It was short and stocky, with muscular arms and legs. Its skin was smooth and bluish-green, mottled with darker spots like a frog’s. On top of its head was a shallow depression filled with water. Its face resembled a human’s, but where its nose and mouth should have been was a beak. From its yellow, reptilian eyes with vertical pupils shone an unsettling gleam. On its back glimmered a hard turtle-like shell.

Alex immediately understood who stood before him.

“Kappa…” he muttered, raising an eyebrow.

The creature didn’t react, continuing to keep its hand in the water. But when Zhang Ya stepped closer, the Kappa flinched, hastily pulled his arm out — and from the tub burst a man, gasping desperately for air. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror.

Alex blinked, staring at the bizarre scene.

“Uh… I don’t know what you’re doing here, buddy,” he said calmly, “but keep up the good work. I’ll call you Kappa Pete. Good luck!”

He gave the creature a thumbs-up — and at once, the Kappa’s eyes blazed with fanatical light. He took it as a divine blessing. To him, the King and Queen had approved his act. And before the unfortunate man could even catch his breath, Kappa Pete zealously pushed him back under the water.

Alex exhaled heavily.

“Great,” he muttered. “I think I just created another fanatic.”

But when Alex noticed who exactly Kappa Pete was drowning, his expression darkened. It was one of the “Hyperion” employees from the orbital station Helios. Alex had been certain all of them died during the massacre — when Zhang Ya unleashed the beings from the Red City. But apparently, some of them had simply been dragged in here.

As he pondered where the line between the living and the “saved” truly lay, childish laughter and soft applause echoed nearby. Alex turned his head and saw two little girls, about five or six years old. They looked like porcelain dolls — delicate faces, large eyes sparkling with mischief, and innocent smiles.

One had white hair and wore a black kimono, the other had black hair and wore white.

Alex instantly understood who they were.

Zashiki-warashi — household spirits that bring fortune to the homes they inhabit. Adorable… but sometimes very curious.

The girls smiled and waved at Alex.

He couldn’t help but smile back. Returning to his adult form, he gently patted their heads. The zashiki-warashi squinted happily, clearly enjoying the attention.

“You two are adorable,” he said with a warm smile.

From his inner pocket, Alex pulled out two small packs of candy and handed one to each girl. Their eyes lit up instantly — like real children who had just been given sweets. They thanked him cheerfully and immediately began eating.

Alex chuckled softly, shaking his head.

“Alright, little rascals. We’ve got work to do.”

He waved goodbye, closed the Red Door, and, taking Zhang Ya’s hand, continued down the long corridor.

But the moment they left, the door creaked open just a bit. Two curious little heads peeked out, exchanged mischievous glances, and giggled as they quietly slipped out, shutting the door behind them.

A few steps later, Alex heard soft, almost inaudible footsteps behind him. He turned slightly and saw the two zashiki-warashi frozen in place, as if hoping that by not moving, they’d be invisible.

“Alright, you two,” Alex said with a smile, beckoning them forward. “Since you’ve decided to follow us, stop hiding.”

The girls’ faces immediately brightened with joy. They giggled and ran toward Alex on their tiny legs, stopping right at his feet.

Unable to resist smiling, Alex bent down and easily lifted both of them, setting them on his shoulders. The zashiki-warashi laughed gleefully, settling comfortably and placing their small hands on his head to keep their balance.

He knew the nature of these spirits — they weren’t malicious beings, merely curious children who sought attention and play.

“Well then,” Alex said with a gentle smile, taking Zhang Ya’s hand once more, “let’s keep moving.”

He walked forward through the endless crimson corridor, now accompanied by two new little companions who chatted and giggled with each other while riding on his shoulders.

“Do you have names?” Alex asked as he continued walking without turning around.

Both zashiki-warashi shook their heads in unison.

Alex nodded knowingly. He understood that not all yōkai possessed names. Sometimes a name was born naturally — through legends and stories people told about them. Other times, it was given by someone who could see not just a spirit, but a true person within.

These two, it seemed, were quite young — nameless still.

Alex stroked his chin thoughtfully, and noticing this, both zashiki-warashi immediately mimicked the gesture, not understanding why but doing it anyway.

“How about I give you names, then?” Alex asked with a soft smile, amused by their synchrony.

The girls eagerly nodded, their eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Let’s start with you,” Alex said, pointing to the one on his right — the black-haired girl. “You look a little older. Your name will be Ichiko.”

Then he turned to the white-haired one.

“And you’ll be Niko.”

For a moment, both zashiki-warashi froze — and then their faces lit up with pure delight. They began to hum a cheerful tune, spinning around and clapping their hands as if celebrating their own birth.

Alex simply smiled, watching their joy. Even Zhang Ya’s face softened with a faint, warm smile.

Meanwhile, the girls watching the live feed tried to guess who those children were, since Alex hadn’t given a single hint. Fortunately, among them were a few who had once lived in Japan — and they immediately recognized the nature of these little spirits.

Saya immediately began typing in the family chat, explaining that Ichiko and Niko were Zashiki-warashi — benevolent spirits that bring good fortune to the household they live in.

While the chat buzzed with discussion, Alex, Zhang Ya, and their new companions reached the end of the red corridor. Throughout the walk, Alex occasionally handed Ichiko and Niko candies — feeding them like a loving father.

The girls didn’t mind. On the contrary — each new sweet made their smiles even brighter.

At the corridor’s end stood a single door — black, with dark mist swirling around it.

“So, you sealed the last Fold?” Alex asked, turning to Zhang Ya.

She gave a faint nod.

He understood: if Zhang Ya absorbed the final fragment of the Dark Place, both the Darkness itself and Alan Wake — the writer — would vanish along with Scratch, who now shared one body with Alan Wake, the character from his own book.

Alex exhaled quietly, shrugged, and grabbed the cold handle of the black door.

With a light push, he swung it open — and before them appeared a grim vision of New York City.

It was the same city Alan Wake had run through over and over again, trying to escape from Scratch and reach the hotel.

Alex stepped forward, finding himself before a broken fountain. The air was heavy and damp, the sky gray and ashen. Not a sound. No Taken, no Scratch, not even a whisper of the Darkness.

“Empty…” he muttered, lighting a cigarette.

He took a few steps forward, his heel tapping softly against the wet asphalt, eyes thoughtful, when suddenly he heard a faint melody in the distance.

A voice — familiar, painfully so. Alex frowned, then, realizing, smacked himself lightly on the forehead.

“Ah, right… how could I forget about him?” he said with a crooked grin. “Well, if no one finds out… nothing bad will happen, right?”

Zhang Ya looked at Alex with an expressionless gaze, pretending not to understand what he was talking about. Ichiko and Niko, tilting their heads curiously, clearly didn’t get it either.

Alex, however, seemed genuinely regretful. Over the past two days in Bright Falls, he had completely forgotten about Sheriff Breaker — the man Mr. Door had once sent into the Dark Place.

Sighing to himself, Alex followed the sound of the melody echoing through the desolate New York square.

Reaching the far end, he descended a short flight of steps and glanced around. Not far away, Sheriff Breaker sat slumped on a bench, head hanging low. Nearby, an old streetlamp flickered dimly, casting only a frail light. The sheriff looked like a man who had long since given up — resigned to being trapped here forever.

Alex walked closer and stopped right in front of him. Breaker didn’t even notice at first — he just kept staring at the ground, quietly humming that same tune.

“Yo, Sheriff Breaker. Looks like you’ve been stuck here a while,” Alex said with a faint smile, sitting down beside him.

Hearing that familiar voice, Breaker slowly turned his head — and froze. Of course he recognized Alex. That face was impossible to forget, especially those eyes shimmering with every color of the rainbow. The sheriff barely paid any attention to the two little girls sitting on Alex’s shoulders, each holding a bag of candy, or to the woman standing nearby with long, flowing black hair. For the first time in ages, he was simply glad — a living person stood before him.

“Agent Voldigoad… is that really you? Forgive me, it’s just… it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s an illusion here. I’ve lost count of how many ‘Agent Caseys’ and ‘Alan Wakes’ I’ve met in this place,” the sheriff said with a weary, skeptical tone.

“Who else would it be?” Alex replied, lighting another cigarette. “Looks like Mr. Door really screwed you over — dumped you in here and never pulled you out. Rough deal, huh?”

“You’re probably right,” Breaker nodded. “I was sent here… or rather, taken from the morgue. I tried to figure out why I was brought here, what all of this even is. But I’ve lost track of time. It feels like… forever.”

Alex listened in silence. He felt genuine sympathy for the man. In this place, time flowed strangely — it erased even the sense of its passing. One could spend an hour here… or an eternity, and never notice the difference. It was a miracle Breaker still retained his sanity, though his eyes made it clear — he had long accepted his fate.

But Alex had no intention of leaving him here. Soon, the Dark Place would be consumed by the Red City, and letting Breaker turn into one of its inhabitants would be far too cruel an end.

“You know, Tim, the exit was always nearby. You just didn’t see it,” Alex said, placing a hand on the sheriff’s shoulder. “The door’s been open all this time — you were just too focused on chasing Mr. Door to notice.”

“What are you talking about, Agent Voldigoad?” Breaker asked, lifting his gaze. “I’ve gone through hundreds of doors. Every single one led me right back here.”

“Up until now — yes,” Alex replied calmly, pointing ahead. “But look there. That’s the one. The door leading to the real world.”

Tim Breaker frowned and followed the direction of Alex’s finger. His eyes fell upon the Red Door standing in the middle of the deserted street. A simple, wooden door — yet its vivid crimson color was almost blinding, and its very presence in this lifeless New York looked surreal.

Tim stared at it, unable to look away. With each passing second, he felt the door calling to him. A strange stirring grew inside his chest — an inner voice whispering that this was it. The way out. The true one.

Drawn by that call, Breaker rose from the bench and slowly walked toward the door. His fingers touched the cold handle — and in that instant, an icy wave swept through his body, as if the door itself was testing his resolve. He was about to turn it when he suddenly froze and looked back.

Alex was still sitting on the bench, calmly smoking a cigarette. A warm, almost fatherly smile played across his face. The two little girls still sat on his shoulders, munching on their sweets, while Zhang Ya stood behind him, her long hair swaying softly in the misty air.

“Won’t you come with me, Agent Voldigoad?” Tim asked, stepping aside. “You said this was the exit.”

“No, Sheriff Breaker,” Alex shook his head. “That door is only for you. Once you walk through it, your nightmare will end. You’ll wake up on the shore of Cauldron Lake… and everything tied to this place will fade from your memory.”

Alex’s words made Tim frown. His gaze grew wary, almost suspicious.

“Who are you really, Agent Voldigoad?” he asked after a brief pause.

Alex smirked and exhaled a thin trail of smoke.

“They call me many things, Sheriff. But to keep it simple — I’m an Enforcer. Your job is to protect Bright Falls. Mine is to protect people from places like this.”

Tim nodded slowly. He didn’t ask anything else. He simply turned the handle and stepped into the darkness beyond. The door closed with a deep thud — then began to fade, like a mirage, until it vanished completely.

Alex took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Only then did it hit him — he’d forgotten to ask where to go next.

Suddenly, applause echoed nearby. Alex, Zhang Ya, Ichiko, and Niko all turned their heads at once.

A short distance away stood a man in a dark blue suit. His face was framed by neat black-rimmed glasses, and his smile looked friendly — yet carried an unfathomable depth. He was clapping slowly, approvingly.

Alex squinted and smiled back. Recognition was instant — standing before him was Mr. Warlin Door.

“Mr. Door,” Alex said, rising from the bench, “care to tell me where I should go next?”

“You already know the answer,” Mr. Door replied softly, his smile never fading. “You said it yourself — the door is always near. And the path… is always beneath your feet.”

Alex raised an eyebrow, glanced down, and saw a brochure lying beneath his boot. On its cover was an image of the Parliament Tower, located in the main square. He smirked and picked it up.

“I hope we’ll meet again, Enforcer. I still owe you — for helping my daughter,” said Mr. Door, taking a step back.

Behind him, a new door appeared silently — black as pure darkness itself.

“Until next time, Mr. Door. And… try to cross dimensions more carefully. You do know who lives between them,” Alex replied, watching as Mr. Door stepped through the door.

A faint smile touched Warlin Door’s lips. He paused for a moment, as if pondering Alex’s words, then gave a soft laugh and nodded approvingly. Without another word, he stepped into the dark doorway behind him — which closed gently and dissolved into the air, as though it had never existed.

Alex watched him go, then calmly exhaled and decided to finish his cigarette before moving on. He wasn’t in a hurry — even if Zhang Ya could absorb the final Fold at any moment, time was still on his side. The Dark Presence and Scratch could wait.

He sat on an old bench bathed in the gray light of the desolate New York. The air was still and cold, disturbed only by a faint breeze that stirred the ash on his cigarette. Ichiko and Niko, sitting on his lap, were completely absorbed in their sweets, seemingly untouched by the surrounding gloom. Zhang Ya sat quietly beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

The world around them felt drained, lifeless — as if reality itself had grown tired of existing. Not the most romantic place to spend time with his wife, but Alex smiled anyway, feeling an odd sense of calm.

When he finished smoking, he flicked away the ash, tossed the cigarette butt aside, and exhaled deeply.

“Well, since everyone’s gone, it’s our turn. Let’s finish this and go home,” said Alex, lifting Ichiko and Niko into his arms. “Not a bad adventure, though.”

Zhang Ya rose with him and took his arm, while the two Zashiki-warashi deftly climbed onto his shoulders again. Alex returned to the central square, where, on the far side, he spotted a simple door with a flickering light above it. Without hesitation, he headed for it and opened it.

Behind the door stretched a staircase leading downward. Every step echoed off the walls, as if the darkness itself was watching. At the bottom awaited another door — and beyond it, a subway station.

The dim light of the lamps and the faint glow of the train cars created an illusion of life, yet the silence was absolute. The only way forward was toward the Exit sign flickering in the distance. Alex passed through the slightly open emergency doors and followed the glowing sign.

As they ascended the stairs, the air grew thicker, heavier. When they finally reached the surface, a faint hum of wind greeted them.

Ichiko and Niko gasped in amazement — directly across the square loomed a massive building. Its top disappeared into the swirling black mist.

“First time seeing something like that?” Alex asked, lifting the brochure and comparing the image on it to the real thing.

On the cover, Parliament Tower looked majestic and radiant. In reality, it was dark, oppressive — as if torn straight from a nightmare.

“Well, close enough…” Alex muttered, squinting. “Just missing a bit of light in the windows. If you close one eye — perfect. Like a hotel ad: luxury suites in the photo, but in reality, they stick you in the basement.”

Zhang Ya gave him a blank look, no longer surprised by his ability to turn even grim moments into jokes. Alex, unfazed, rolled up the brochure and tossed it aside.

He was about to cross the square toward the tower’s entrance when the air before him began to shimmer. Hundreds of dark silhouettes materialized out of nowhere — translucent, ethereal, whispering fragmented words, like echoes of forgotten memories.

Zhang Ya was ready to annihilate them, but Alex stopped her with a calm gesture and activated his magic sight. As he focused, his expression softened into a knowing smile.

These shadows were not enemies. They were echoes of the many Alan Wakes — those who failed to escape from Scratch and the Dark Presence. Each shadow was a character trapped in an endless loop of despair.

Alex raised his hand, about to snap his fingers and cleanse them of darkness, when suddenly, an old payphone nearby began to ring.

He squinted, stubbed out his cigarette, and let out a quiet chuckle.

“Of course…” Alex muttered.

Turning toward the shadows, he smirked.

“Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

Alex walked over to the ringing phone, but before he could pick up the receiver, Nico’s tiny hands reached out, carefully lifting it from the hook and holding it up to his ear. The gesture looked so serious and adorable that Alex couldn’t help but smile. Her small face showed deep concentration — as if the fate of the world depended on this call.

“Hello?” Alex said, answering the phone.

“This… isn’t right…” came a trembling female voice from the speaker.

“Let me guess. Alice Wake,” Alex said calmly. “You expected Saga Anderson to answer, just like it was written in the book Return. But there’s been a slight deviation — Saga didn’t follow the path Alan set for her. Too much has changed.”

“Who are you?..” Alice whispered, her voice filled with confusion and disbelief.

“That’s not important, Mrs. Wake,” Alex replied, gently rocking on his heels, a faint smile on his lips. “What matters is that I’m going to save your husband. He’s been trapped here far too long. And no, I’m not going to kill him to free him. I want both of you to live long and happily.”

“You… you’re not lying?” Alice asked softly.

“Yep. Straight truth,” he said with a light chuckle. “But right now, I’ve got something else to take care of — like giving Scratch a proper lesson before I pull your husband out. He’ll call you soon. Your number… I’m sure the FBC has it. After all, they were the ones you used to fake your death. So just wait for the call.”

“How much do you know?..” her voice trembled. Even without seeing her face, Alex could easily imagine Alice frowning in shock at his words.

“Enough,” he said shortly. “See you soon.”

Nico gently placed the receiver back on the hook, ending the call.

After finishing the conversation with Alice Wake — and unintentionally promising to return her husband — Alex walked back to the main square. As before, hundreds of transparent, wavering shadows blocked his path. He was about to cleanse them when Ichiko and Nico suddenly jumped off his shoulders and landed beside him.

Both Zashiki-Warashi turned toward him and held out their favorite snacks — as if inviting him to join a ritual. Alex smiled softly, accepting them, curious to see what they would do next.

The girls started bustling about, rummaging through the sleeves of their kimonos, and pulled out some strange objects. Ichiko took out a miniature altar and incense sticks, while Nico produced an elegant folding fan.

Now Alex was watching them with full seriousness.

Ichiko blew softly on the incense sticks — they immediately began to smoke with thin white wisps — and she placed them in the altar. Meanwhile, Nico began to move gracefully, waving her fan. Each motion directed the smoke toward the shadows, and wherever the smoke touched, the darkness dissolved, evaporating into light.

Even Alex was impressed by what he saw, not to mention those watching the livestream. The girls on the other side of the screen froze in astonishment, until Saya quickly typed an explanation in the family chat:

“Zashiki-Warashi are household spirits. They protect homes from evil. Those shadows are manifestations of evil — that’s why they’re disappearing.”

A vibration came from Alex’s pocket. He took out his phone, read the message, and nodded in understanding.

“So that’s how it is…” he murmured with a smile. “Didn’t know that.”

At that moment, Ichiko and Nico finished their purification ritual and carefully tucked their belongings back into the sleeves of their kimonos. Alex couldn’t resist praising them — the girls had done a perfect job. He patted their heads and lifted them up again. Sitting happily on his shoulders, Ichiko and Nico swung their legs and hummed a cheerful tune. The path was clear — they could move on.

Crossing the square, Alex, Zhang Ya, Ichiko, and Nico found themselves standing before the entrance to Parliament Tower. A thick, dark fog swirled around the doors, blocking the way. Alex yawned lazily and snapped his fingers — the fog dissipated instantly. Behind the doors, the silhouette of Scratch emerged.

Alex set the girls down and handed them over to Zhang Ya.”Not tired of this yet, Scratch?” he muttered, taking a drag from his cigarette. “We’ve met three times already. What makes you think you’ll get lucky this time?”

“The ending is inevitable. Everything will return to the way it was,” Scratch’s voice echoed from beyond the doors of Parliament Tower.

“Yeah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Alex smirked. “The spiral is almost broken. The only thing holding it together is a tiny scrap of a Fold. You survived only because I needed you. But now it’s time to end this thriller.”

Alex stepped forward and struck the door. With a thunderous crash, the facade of Parliament Tower cracked — part of the entrance and lobby collapsed. Scratch was thrown backward, slamming into the elevator doors. Even now, Alex had to hold back his strength so he wouldn’t accidentally destroy everything around him.

Scratch recovered quickly and lifted his gaze — only to see Alex already standing over him. Before he could react, Alex’s boot smashed into his jaw. His head snapped back, and a second flurry of blows slammed him against the steel doors. The elevator doors gave way and fell into the shaft, leaving Scratch hanging upside down as Alex’s foot pressed against his chest.

“I don’t know what your motives are, Scratch, and I don’t care why you became the Dark Presence’s lapdog,” Alex said, pressing harder with his boot. “But you and the Dark Presence overlooked one thing — there’s someone who won’t let two pretenders ruin his masterpiece. You were just part of the scenery. Now you’re going back where you belong — into Alan Wake’s body. For you, this story ends here. I suggest you don’t resist. Otherwise, I’ll erase your very identity — and believe me, that’s easy for me to do.”

Scratch only growled, straining to break free. Alex shook his head and snapped his fingers — black chains flared to life, wrapping around Scratch’s body and sealing his mouth shut. Grabbing him by the collar, Alex dragged him toward the elevator. Zhang Ya approached, still holding Ichiko and Nico. The girls jumped down and curiously poked at the glowing chains binding their defeated foe.

When the elevator doors opened, Alex hauled Scratch inside. Zhang Ya, Ichiko, and Nico followed. Inside, there was only one button — leading to the very top, where the real Alan Wake was imprisoned by the Dark Presence that whispered new words into his ear.

Alex took a deep breath and pressed the button.

To be continued…

(Yes, yes, I understand, I promised you salvation in this chapter. But as I already said, the voices in my head are preventing me from doing what I wanted to do. Oh well. It’s not my fault.)

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

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep