After the call from Dean, in which a clear cry for help was heard, Alex only had time to briefly kiss Enid — and then he took off immediately. Dean didn’t have time to explain the details, only shouting that the situation was turning out far worse than expected. That was enough: Alex bolted, trying to figure out what could have happened that serious for Dean to call him.

When Alex burst into the forest, suspicions immediately sprang to mind: Marilyn Thornhill had clearly orchestrated something far more dangerous than just sending Hyde after Dean. At the same time, he wasn’t the only one running through the forest — Wednesday was here too. In her vision, she saw Eugene get injured, and then he and Dean surrounded by shadows. All she could think now was that it had happened because of her. After all, she was supposed to go with him into the forest to monitor the monster’s lair.

Wednesday raced between the trees, desperately shouting Eugene’s name, but the forest was too dark and quiet: apart from her own breathing and heartbeat, she heard nothing. Stopping for just a second, she tried to spot the light of the signal flare she had seen in the vision. But suddenly, a sharp noise came from behind. Wednesday spun around — and saw something rushing toward her at incredible speed.

She didn’t even have time to frown — when Alex appeared right in front of her.

He knew where Dean and Eugene were, and Wednesday happened to be directly in his path. Gritting his teeth irritably, Alex accelerated even more. He scooped Wednesday up in his arms without slowing down and kept running.

“Hold on tight,” he called, not stopping for a second.

Wednesday wrapped her arms around his neck tighter than she had intended — and noticed that he was exhaling thick white steam. She had seen this before in Bright Falls when Alex fought the Taken at the sheriff’s station. Turning her head back, she noticed something else — fiery trails followed each of his steps.

Alex didn’t look at her — right now, there was only one priority: reaching Dean and Eugene.

But the forest wasn’t about to let them go. A dark figure emerged from behind a tree, entirely shrouded in black mist. It was one of the Taken, who shouldn’t have been in this forest.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t slow down — on the contrary, he accelerated. Wednesday also saw the figure, and her gaze hardened. A Taken shouldn’t be here. Not in this place.

A few steps away from the creature, Alex abruptly shifted his weight forward and kicked it in the chest. The strike was infused with the power of the Sun’s Breath — the Taken’s body ignited instantly, it let out a piercing screech, and disintegrated into mist.

Wednesday just watched — she didn’t speak a word, but a picture of what was happening formed in her mind.

And she didn’t like it.

The appearance of the Taken explained a lot… but not everything.

Moments later, Alex saw a dim red light ahead — the signal flare. What bothered him, however, was the dozens of Taken swirling around. Now it was clear why Dean had been shouting for help. He could handle a dozen… but Eugene was injured and right next to him.

Alex stopped, staying in the shadows, and paused for a moment.

“Why are there so many of them?” Wednesday asked quietly. “The Taken were part of Alan Wake’s story… what are they doing here?”

“You think Bright Falls was the only place where the Dark Entity existed?” Alex replied just as quietly, not taking his eyes off the enemies.

Wednesday thought for a moment — then slowly nodded.

Alex held her tighter, drew a breath into his lungs, exhaled a thick cloud of white steam — and lunged forward. The Taken noticed the movement instantly and turned toward him.The first one didn’t even manage to take a step — Alex struck it in the chest so hard that it flew back, crashed into the others, and knocked them down. The opening created was narrow, but enough.

Alex shot through it without slowing down, and at the end of the path he pushed off the back of a Taken that was trying to stand up. The jump carried him straight to Dean, who was fending off the shadows with a signal flare.

“Dean, damn it!” Alex shouted, setting Wednesday down. “What the hell is going on here?! You were just supposed to watch the cave! Where did so many Taken come from?!”

“How should I know?!” Dean snarled through clenched teeth.

“We were watching the cave,” Eugene rasped, holding his leg. “Then a figure in black appeared… instead of a face — fog. And then a black vortex opened at the cave entrance. They came out of it…”He swallowed.”A lot of them.”

Alex and Wednesday looked at Eugene at the same time, and she immediately rushed to him to examine the wound. Seeing his injured leg, she instantly launched into scolding him — for being irresponsible, for going into the forest alone, and for not listening to her warnings.

While Wednesday fussed over Eugene, Alex scanned the surroundings and noticed more details. Besides the dozens of Taken surrounding them in the darkness, one detail especially caught his eye — their clothing. The Taken wore outfits clearly belonging to different eras: from the early years of Jericho’s existence to modern times.

Alex stepped forward a couple of steps, staying within the boundary of the flare’s light, to inspect them more closely.

“Dude, this is not a sightseeing tour,” Dean muttered, lighting another signal flare. “We’re surrounded, Eugene’s hurt, and you’re staring at these freaks like you’re in a museum.”

“Look closer at their clothes. What do you see?” Alex said calmly, pointing toward the Taken at the edge of the light.

“Now is really not the time to compare who wore what and when…” Dean began irritably.

“They’re dressed in clothing from different time periods,” Wednesday said quietly, catching Alex’s idea.

“And what does that mean?” Dean raised a brow.

“It means all these Taken are echoes of the past. People who disappeared or died here over many centuries. And if you haven’t noticed, there are more of them every minute. Which means that dark vortex at the monster’s lair is a portal. It’s producing them endlessly. And if we don’t close it… things will get a lot worse,” Alex said, nodding toward the darkness.

“So the plan is simple but insane: kill everything, close the portal, and don’t die. The usual?” Dean asked, instantly catching on.

“Pretty much. How many flares do you have left?” Alex asked, removing the sheath with his katana.

“Two. And don’t tell me that’s supposed to help us somehow,” Dean grumbled, pulling two remaining flares out of his pocket.

“Give them to Wednesday. If the light goes out — they’ll swarm us. And she’ll lead Eugene out of the forest in the meantime,” Alex said.

Dean shifted his gaze to Wednesday and, without asking any unnecessary questions, handed her the flares. If no one needed protection, it would be easier for them to reach the portal. Wednesday didn’t object. In moments like this, she mentally became cold and precise, like a machine: everyone had to do what they were supposed to.

Receiving the flares, she helped Eugene to his feet. Alex gave her an approving smile and a thumbs-up — everything would be fine. Then he opened his case and drew the katana in its black sheath.

Dean gripped the Blade of Cain tighter, waiting for the signal.

“Dean, remember what I told you when you were watching my training in the bunker?” Alex asked calmly.

“Something about proper breathing? What’s that supposed to mean?” Dean muttered, turning his head slightly.

“Almost. Right now you’re using the blessing instinctively. But you need to learn to use Amara’s power consciously,” Alex said.

“I have no idea how! There wasn’t a ‘for dummies’ guide with this power,” Dean replied irritably.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath…” Alex began.

Dean exhaled but obeyed. He closed his eyes and slowly inhaled. Wednesday watched them, listening carefully to their words — about the blessing, about a power she had never heard of before.

“Now focus only on the beat of your heart. Push all thoughts aside. The only thing that matters is the target that must be destroyed as efficiently as possible… Clear your mind. Let the flow pass through you — through every cell, filling and strengthening it,” Alex spoke in a soft, confident voice, guiding Dean along a narrow, dangerous path.

Dean followed Alex’s instructions, and soon he heard nothing but the dull, measured thump of his own heart and the distant echo of Alex’s voice. Then he felt something alien spreading through his body — cold and hot at the same time, wrapping him from his heels to the top of his head.

Alex watched closely as Dean gradually entered the flow and began consciously using Amara’s power. Thin streams of black mist rose from his body — thicker than the Taken’s smoke, but less frightening. The Blade of Cain, bone-colored, began darkening rapidly along with Dean’s hand gripping it. Alex monitored every change, ready to intervene if anything went wrong. But seeing Dean handle it confidently, he nodded — everything was fine.

Dean opened his eyes and looked at his hands in surprise, feeling a new surge of strength.

“So that’s what you meant… It’s completely different from when I was a demon. I could actually get used to this,” Dean said, spinning the blade lightly in his palm.

“Don’t get too used to it. Your body isn’t adapted to this power yet. You’ll understand what I mean in the end. It wouldn’t be fair if only the special effects surrounded you,” Alex smirked, revealing the katana.

He drew the blade sharply from its sheath, and it immediately ignited in flames. The fire spread over Alex’s body, engulfing him from head to toe, even licking his hair with orange tongues of flame. Wednesday watched with cold, focused interest, while Eugene slowly opened his mouth, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Black smoke rose from Dean’s body, while Alex appeared as if he were living fire.

Alex glanced over his shoulder and nodded to Wednesday — she responded with a short nod, understanding what he meant.

Alex and Dean exchanged a look — then charged into battle at the same time.

Because Dean was using Amara’s blessing consciously for the first time, he overdid it slightly: he literally charged into the front ranks of the Taken, crushing them like bowling pins. Quickly regaining his composure, he drove the blade into the chest of the nearest Taken and immediately jumped back.

Alex decided to clear a path for Wednesday.

“Breath of the Sun: Solar Halo — Dragon Dance,” he murmured, exhaling flames.

His movements became circular, fast, and fluid; a fiery dragon arced behind him, engulfing enemies in tongues of fire. Within seconds, the path was clear, and Wednesday, supporting Eugene, dashed toward Nevermore, holding the flare high above her head.

Alex watched her go and turned to Dean — just in time to see another Taken flying past him, crashing into a tree with a sickening crunch. Amara’s power was adjusting to Dean more rapidly, but Alex noticed he was overdoing it — wielding the power as if he had opened the flow to its maximum.

Exhaling and gripping his katana, Alex delivered a quick thrust, piercing two Taken at once. Then he joined Dean, and they began fighting side by side.

Alex moved gracefully, almost dancing, following the Sun Breathing technique. Dean, on the other hand, struck like a beast — crude, furious, hacking through enemies, drenched in their dark blood.

When the last Taken fell, they didn’t speak and charged toward the monster’s lair — the place where the dark whirlpool was birthing new creatures.

But they hadn’t gone far — a log infused with Darkness whistled toward them. Alex leaped onto the flying log and cleaved it in half with a downward strike. Landing, he surged forward again, and Dean caught up.

The closer they got to the monster’s nest, the more Taken appeared. After cutting down another group, Alex noticed Dean’s breathing had become ragged and heavy.

“Hey, you holding up?” Alex asked, glancing at Dean, who was leaning on one knee, trying to catch his breath.

“Feels like someone’s trying to shove me into a blender… Not exactly pleasant,” Dean rasped, spitting out blood.

Alex looked at him and immediately saw that his body was literally breaking down under the strain. Amara’s power was exhausting him far more than anticipated. Yes, Dean was meant to be the perfect vessel for Michael in this universe, but Amara’s power was far more dangerous than some fake archangel’s might. Alex knew they had to accelerate. Dean wouldn’t last much longer — he was about to lose consciousness.

They surged forward again. Less than a hundred meters remained to the monster’s lair, but a new wave of Taken blocked their path. By this point, Dean could barely stand, breathing heavily, Amara’s blessing tearing him from within.

Alex feverishly calculated options — how to act convincingly as a desperate man without revealing his true power. After dispatching another group of Taken, they finally saw the cave entrance — the one sealed by the dark whirlpool. New Taken continued emerging, and the flow didn’t pause for a single second.

With every passing moment, Dean felt worse. He had gone deathly pale, covered in blood — both his own and others’. Alex, meanwhile, deliberately played the role of the exhausted fighter, just in case Chuck… or Marilyn, who was essentially the cause of everything, was watching.

Remembering her “brilliant” idea to create the Dark Whirlpool, Alex clenched his teeth in irritation. The urge to throw Marilyn into a black hole was almost physical.

“Damn, how many of them are there…” Dean rasped, wiping the blood dripping from his chin.

“Dean, can you still hold on? Or are you at your limit?” Alex asked, gripping the hilt of his katana tighter.

“Hard to say…” Dean muttered, feeling his body tearing itself apart.

“All right… there’s only one last option. Hope this works,” Alex said, pulling a small object from his haori sleeve.

“What are you planning to use?” Dean exhaled, blood still dripping from his lips.

“The Alan Wake Clicker. It carries a light of hope against the darkness. See you in the hospital, buddy. Right now, it’s going to tear us through the meat grinder for sure,” Alex said, raising the Clicker.

“Don’t forget to get me a burger… and I’m done for now…” Dean muttered before losing consciousness, completely drained by Amara’s power.

Alex caught him under the arm, holding him so he wouldn’t collapse to the ground. Then he slowly lifted the Clicker and smiled broadly at the Taken surrounding him from all sides.

“Skadoosh!” he whispered and pressed the button.

In that instant, a wave of light erupted around him. A blinding flash spread in all directions, incinerating all the Taken and destroying the Dark Whirlpool itself. For a moment, the entire black forest was lit with dazzling brilliance. Everything happened in seconds — and the Clicker worked exactly as Alex had planned.

Now there was only one thing left: to play the part of a severely wounded man, so as not to arouse suspicion. He needed to convince Marilyn Thornhill that, even if her plan had failed, at least she had succeeded in taking Alex and Dean out of the game.

Already thinking about how to perform this convincingly, Alex heard footsteps behind him. He turned — and saw Amara. She now appeared as a fully grown woman — the last time Alex had seen her, she was still a teenager. But it made sense: she had reached her full physical maturity.

Amara now looked at him with an empty, almost reproachful gaze, as if he had done something incredibly foolish.

“What?” Alex asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You could have handled it yourself. Why did you have to push Dean to this state?” Amara said calmly, stepping closer and looking at the unconscious Dean.

“He needs to get used to your power. When his body starts regenerating, he’ll adapt faster. He has to go through this process,” Alex replied, carefully leaning Dean against a tree.

“I see… I hope he’s going to be okay. We’ve only just started really communicating. He… even started opening up to me,” Amara said quietly, lowering herself next to Dean and running her fingers along his cheek.

“Now I understand why he didn’t drink himself to sleep all last week. Seems like Dean’s starting to understand you,” Alex said, nodding and lighting a cigarette. “How’s the role of the angry sister going?”

“So far, so good. Turns out it’s not that hard. Make a little noise in the church where Chuck holds power. Kill a few angels… you know,” Amara said calmly.

“The important thing is you’re not touching the innocents. No need to add more souls to Chuck’s cage,” Alex said, exhaling smoke.

“The people I killed were infected,” Amara replied just as calmly, continuing to stroke Dean’s cheek.

Alex understood what Amara meant. She was referring to people infected with Chuck’s power — his “marks,” through which he could watch and influence them. Amara pretended to try to lure out her brother, who had betrayed her, while eliminating the infected to deprive him of control.

While Amara watched Dean, Alex found the perfect way to convincingly play the wounded man. He cast an illusion spell on himself: his right arm appeared charred, his bones broken, his clothing torn and singed, and his face was covered in burns and abrasions. Within seconds, he looked as if he had survived a massive explosion.

Amara turned to Alex, raising an eyebrow as she scrutinized him — clearly curious about why he had disfigured himself in such a way. Alex quickly explained his plan: his condition needed to make the villain relax and believe that everything had gone according to plan. Hearing this, Amara gave an intrigued chuckle, deciding that perhaps in the future she might use a similar trick if a regular strategy failed and she really needed to lure out Chuck.

Before leaving, Amara touched Dean’s face one last time, said goodbye, and dissolved into clouds of black mist.

Alex approached Dean, carefully lifting him with his only “intact” arm and leaning on his katana as he slowly moved forward. He walked calmly, but slowed when he spotted flashlight beams and heard human voices in the distance. At the same moment, Alex theatrically spat blood, letting it trickle down his lips, portraying someone barely able to stay on their feet.

Shuffling toward the light, he supported the exhausted Dean with one hand while leaning on his katana with the other. As the flashlights got closer, Alex saw Sheriff Donovan, Larrisa Wims, Marilyn Thornhill — whose face instantly twisted in horror at the sight of the surviving Alex and Dean — and a group of police officers. Among them was Wednesday, confidently leading the people forward.

When the light fell on Alex and Dean, everyone around gasped.

Almost reaching them, Alex allowed himself to “lose strength” and began to fall. Sheriff Donovan immediately rushed forward, catching both of them before they hit the ground.

“Call an ambulance! We have two critically injured!” the sheriff shouted, giving orders.

Panic ensued. People frantically tried to reach medical services, while Dean and Alex were seated on the ground, supported to prevent them from collapsing. Sheriff Donovan carefully examined their bodies for additional injuries. Alex’s charred arm and Dean’s condition shocked everyone — no one could understand what could have happened in the forest.

Wednesday looked at Alex, and for the first time genuine concern flashed in her cold eyes. Larrisa Wims was also in despair: too much had happened in one hour, and everything threatened the reputations of Nevermore and Jericho. Two federal agents had been injured on their territory — and in the line of duty.

“Agent! Stay conscious! What happened here?!” Sheriff Donovan yelled, trying to prevent Alex from “passing out.”

“Some bastard planted a bomb… in the cave…” Alex muttered before “losing consciousness.”

“Where the hell is the ambulance?!” the sheriff roared.

After these last words, Alex fully played the part of being unconscious, “expelling” the last of his strength. He felt cold fingers on his face and realized it was Wednesday, but he had to play the role to the very end.

After some time, he heard hurried footsteps and Donovan’s anxious voice, and then felt himself being lifted onto a stretcher and quickly carried away. Alex forced himself not to fall asleep—he still had to hypnotize the doctors so that they would “remember” performing surgery and trying to save him.

Wednesday wanted to ride in the ambulance with him and Dean, but she wasn’t allowed. Larrisa Wims realized that Alex had lied about the bomb, but she was only glad—it made her task easier. They could blame everything on a gas leak, which would also help conceal the truth about the monster in the forest.

Soon, Alex was wheeled into the operating room on a gurney. As soon as the doors closed, he suddenly opened his eyes, nearly giving the doctors a heart attack. He snapped his fingers—their gazes went blank. Then he applied a cast to his arm and a bandage over his eye himself.

After that, he calmly closed his eyes and genuinely fell asleep—the hypnosis would take effect shortly, and the doctors would sincerely believe they had done everything possible. Now Alex could allow himself at least a moment of rest.

Meanwhile, Wednesday sat near the operating room. With a cold, expressionless face, she simply waited for the surgery to be over. Eugene had also been brought to the hospital, but his injury wasn’t serious—just a simple leg wound. After stitching, he was kept under observation, though he already felt much better.

Wednesday remained motionless, showing no emotion, completely unaware that everything unfolding was a carefully staged performance by Alex. Alex’s wives, watching the broadcast, collectively shook their heads at his next act—once again, he outperformed everyone like a true professional.

Meanwhile, Larrisa Wims was fielding calls from the mayor and other important figures. News of the situation in the forest with Alex and Dean had spread quickly, especially given the police convoy headed to Nevermore and two ambulances. By early morning, Alex and Dean were finally taken out of the operating rooms and moved to their wards.

Wednesday followed and sat by Alex’s bed, studying his bandaged face and casted arm. Larrisa Wims stood behind her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder in support.

“Come on, Wednesday. He needs to rest. He’ll be fine,” she said in a calm, confident voice.

Wednesday nodded slightly, but her mind wouldn’t let go. She clearly remembered how Alex had completed a mission in Bright Falls—almost the same situation—but then he hadn’t been injured at all. What had gone wrong this time?

Casting one last glance at Alex before leaving, she noticed a small object fall from his hand. As Wims exited the room, Wednesday quickly bent down, picked up the fallen item, and tucked it into her pocket.

Back in Nevermore, she went straight to her room, where she was immediately met by a worried Enid. Enid paced back and forth, her face full of concern. She had seen the state in which Alex had been loaded into the ambulance, and she was nearly overcome by a panic attack. And she wasn’t the only one—many Nevermore students had run out to see the commotion caused by the police and ambulances.

“How is he?” Enid asked, almost running up to Wednesday.

“Like someone who survived an explosion,” Wednesday replied calmly as she entered the room.

Enid became even more flustered at Wednesday’s calm demeanor and started bombarding her with questions, but Wednesday remained silent, unwilling to say more than necessary. Instead, she took from her pocket the item Alex had dropped and saw the Clicker. She recognized it immediately—she had just recently watched the recording of Alex’s mission.

She remembered Alex’s words that this Clicker carried the light of hope from Alan Wake.

Enid stepped closer and looked at the device as well.

“This… is what I think it is?” she asked cautiously.

“Yes. It’s Alan Wake’s Clicker. Looks like Alex used it. That’s why the forest was lit up so brightly,” Wednesday said, turning the device in her hands.

“So… because of this thing, Alex ended up in that state…” Enid murmured quietly.

“Seems like it…” Wednesday muttered and carefully put the Clicker into her backpack to return it to Alex later.

Enid didn’t ask any more questions, but her face clearly showed that inside she was torn apart with worry. Wednesday outwardly remained cold and calm as usual, but she, too, was concerned for Alex’s condition, just skillfully hiding it.

Meanwhile, Alex slept peacefully, unaware of the chaos that had erupted in Jericho and Nevermore. Everyone who had the chance was already talking about what had happened in the forest—the bright flash from the Clicker had been taken as an explosion. Larrisa Wims immediately moved to cover the situation, blaming it on a “natural gas explosion.” Sheriff Donovan, of course, didn’t believe it, but to avoid panic, he went along with that version and sent people to inspect the cave, which was now just a pile of rocks.

And the one responsible for all this commotion was happily having sweet dreams.

Alex didn’t know how long he had slept, but he woke to voices in the ward. Opening his eyes, he saw Enid and Wednesday talking with Eugene. He had been placed in the same ward as Dean and Eugene for observation. When Alex moved, all three turned to him simultaneously. Tears instantly welled up in Enid’s eyes; Wednesday, while keeping her calm expression, clearly showed relief in her gaze. Eugene also exhaled loudly—he felt ashamed that Dean had ended up in danger because of his stubbornness.

“Yo, what’s with your faces? Like you just saw zombies,” Alex rasped, lifting his uncasted hand.

Instead of replying, Enid rushed to him and hugged him tightly. No one knew when he would wake fully—the doctors just shrugged. Wednesday stepped closer, stopped at the foot of the bed, and silently watched Alex from above while Enid continued holding him.

Alex tried to sit up—still playing the role of the “heavily wounded”—and Enid immediately helped him. Settling comfortably, he kept smiling.

“How do you feel?” Enid asked, supporting him by the shoulders.

“Like I’ve been run through a meat grinder and then put back together. And what do the doctors say?” Alex replied in a carefree tone.

“Multiple burns on your arm and part of your face. Fractures in the hand, forearm, shoulder, and scapula. Plus a concussion from the head impact,” Wednesday recited calmly, as if reading a professional diagnosis.

“Well, not too bad then. I thought it’d be worse,” Alex muttered in the same tone.

“Is this because of that thing?” Wednesday asked, taking the Clicker out of her jacket pocket.

“Where did you get that?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“It fell from your hand when you were unconscious,” she replied just as calmly, placing the Clicker on his lap.

“Why did you get hurt so badly because of this thing? Isn’t it supposed to drive back the darkness?” Enid asked, still holding Alex by the shoulders so he could sit properly.

Alex realized that he would now have to come up with a plausible lie to avoid arousing Wednesday’s suspicion. Enid would believe him without question, but with Wednesday, it was much more complicated. Keeping a calm demeanor, he began to explain that although the Clicker contained Alan Wake’s light of hope, it was essentially a portable bomb disguised as an ordinary device—which was why his hand had been so badly injured. He didn’t go into too much detail, considering that the hospital walls were far from soundproof. But it was enough for Wednesday to piece together the general picture.

After sitting for a while, Alex decided to step outside for a smoke. With Enid’s help, he got up from the bed. He cast a quick glance at Dean, still unconscious but steadily recovering. Dean had passed out because his body was regenerating thanks to the Amara power hidden within him.

Once outside, Alex pulled out a cigarette but quickly realized that his right hand was in a cast—and even if it weren’t, using it would still be inconvenient. As he struggled to light the cigarette with one hand, Wednesday silently took the lighter from him, struck it once, and brought the flame to the cigarette. Enid went off to buy coffee at Alex’s request.

Alex and Wednesday stood near the hospital.

“What happened after we left?” Wednesday asked calmly, watching him.

“We started making our way toward the monster’s cave. There were way too many Taken,” Alex replied, exhaling smoke. “That’s why we had to use the Clicker. How’s the situation in town?”

“As usual. They covered it up quickly. Now everyone’s convinced that there was a natural gas explosion in the forest and that the three of you got caught in it. As always—sweep it under the rug,” Wednesday said, frowning slightly.

“Let it stay that way. No one needs to know the truth. I don’t want Jericho to become a second Bright Falls,” Alex said quietly, flicking the ash. “And the worst part is—someone’s controlling this power. And the monster too. The situation couldn’t be worse. But I think that person will lie low for a while to avoid getting caught.”

“Agreed. Two federal agents from the secret Bureau were hurt in the city. If this figure in black isn’t a complete idiot, he’ll stay in the shadows until things settle down,” Wednesday said, thinking the same thing.

“And you stay out of it for now. Act like you’re continuing your investigation. While Dean and I recover,” Alex said quietly.

“I already know what to do without you,” Wednesday replied calmly. “I still haven’t gotten close to the truth. Why is the monster collecting body parts? Why am I standing opposite Joseph Cracklstone in the drawing? Why have the Taken appeared in Jericho? Too many questions need answers.”

She looked Alex straight in the eyes, and he simply smiled and nodded. The determination in her gaze was unwavering. But Alex was certain: Marilyn Thornhill would no longer risk repeating her trick. She wasn’t foolish enough to summon echoes of people from the past, possessed by Darkness, again.

After a while, Enid returned, carrying coffee. After drinking together with the girls, Alex decided to go back to the room. Wednesday and Enid needed to return to Nevermore. Enid really didn’t want to leave, but before going, she hugged Alex tightly and quickly kissed him on the cheek, then hurried after Wednesday.

Watching them leave, Alex yawned quietly and went back into the room.

“Wednesday and Enid already left?” Eugene asked, noticing him.

“Yes, they had to get back to Nevermore. How about you, Eugene? Not too scared?” Alex asked, sitting on the bed.

“The Buzzers fear nothing. That’s the hive rule,” Eugene replied confidently.

Alex smiled.

“Glad to hear it, Buzz. Since we’re roommates… want to watch a movie?”

Eugene eagerly nodded—he was more than happy to watch a movie. Alex left the room and returned a few seconds later with a laptop, casually saying,

“Got it from the nurse.”

Although in reality, he had just taken it from his inventory.

Alex sat on Eugene’s bed, placed the laptop on the stand, and started the movie. They watched quietly until a nurse came in for a routine check to see how they were doing. After her, a doctor appeared, asked a few questions about Alex’s condition, quickly examined him, and left.

Once the door closed, Eugene looked at Alex again, unsure how to phrase his thoughts.

“Dean… he’s going to be okay, right?” he asked quietly, feeling guilty for thinking Dean had been hurt because of him.

“Don’t worry, Buzz. Dean’s been through far tougher situations and always came out fine. He just needs some sleep—and he’ll be okay,” Alex said with a smile, trying to eat the hospital food that made him want to throw the plate out the window.

Eugene looked at Dean once more and exhaled in relief. Seeing his worry, Alex wanted to pat the boy on the shoulder to reassure him, but once again remembered his right hand was in a cast. He clicked his tongue irritably, already regretting having to pretend to be injured—from the cast to the bandage on his “wounded” eye.

Closer to night, Eugene fell asleep in the middle of the movie, and Alex quietly returned to his own bed. He took out his phone to check the news and reply to messages from his wives, who were once again laughing at his acting. They all wrote in unison that he was ridiculously overacting, and that someone with such “injuries” definitely couldn’t be walking so normally after only half a day.

Alex just rolled his eyes. He didn’t argue.

To be continued…

(While I was writing this chapter, my head started hurting so badly I thought I’d go crazy. I had to take a strong painkiller to stop the pain. So, this is the reason Alex and Dean will be staying in Jericho. And the beginning of the Shield Hero’s rise—oh, that’s not the right title, but the beginning of Dean Winchester’s rise. Dean will become more and more accustomed to his powers, and he won’t have to endure beatings from every mutt that attacks him. As for Alex, he’ll enjoy the care of Enid and maybe Wednesday.)

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

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep