After Alex had laid out the plan for the next day in detail, Dean agreed without hesitation. The chance to finally corner the main culprit and catch the monster that had slipped away from them more than once suited him just fine.

Wednesday also had no objections to the part of the plan where she was assigned the role of bait.

Only Enid looked slightly tense. However, remembering who Alex really was and what he was capable of, she let out a relieved breath and nodded, making it clear that she fully supported the plan.

Uncle Fester, of course, could not resist commenting in his usual manner. Once again, he showered Alex with praise and remarked that he would fit perfectly into the Addams family.

When Fester spoke, Dean finally paid attention to him—and froze. Standing in front of him was an extremely pale, bald man wrapped in a heavy black cloak.

Dean slowly shifted his gaze to Alex, silently asking the question: “Who the hell is that?”

After Wednesday introduced Fester as a member of her family, Dean simply nodded, finally convinced that his own family was far from the strangest.

With that, the strange introduction came to an end. It was time to go talk to Larissa Weems. Uncle Fester decided to stay behind, just in case, to keep an eye on Thing, while Dean headed back to the hotel.

Leaving the beekeeping club behind, Alex, Wednesday, and Enid made their way to Larissa Weems’s office. Alex already knew how the conversation would go and who would be present.

Before entering, he took out a notebook and quickly wrote a few lines in it. This did not escape Wednesday’s notice. After everything she had learned, she understood that his seemingly insignificant actions deserved especially close attention.

Alex tore out the page, knocked on the door, and entered together with Wednesday and Enid. In the office, besides Larissa Weems, was Marilyn Thornhill. She was also Laurel Gates.

Alex began to explain everything that had happened after they returned to the dormitory and the state in which they had found the girls’ room.

Enid immediately added colorful details, not forgetting to mention the fate of her plush toys and Wednesday’s belongings. With every passing second, Larissa Weems’s face grew darker.

At the end of the story, she sharply slapped her palms on the desk and stood up.

“This no longer looks like another stupid prank,” she said, pacing around the office. “Who would even think of doing something like this?”

All this time, Alex watched Marilyn out of the corner of his eye. She stood slightly aside, displaying surprise and fear, as if everything that was happening had come as a complete shock to her.

“The person who trashed our room stole Nathaniel Faulkner’s diary,” Wednesday said calmly, looking at Larissa Weems.

Enid immediately nodded, confirming her words.

“The diary that is supposed to be kept in the library safe,” Larissa Weems reminded them coldly.

Alex intervened, pulling a folded sheet of paper from his pocket.

“Miss Weems, you don’t need to worry about the diary. I made a complete copy of it and can restore it if necessary.”

Larissa Weems was about to respond, but her gaze caught on the sheet of paper that Alex was holding in a way that looked completely casual.

Written on it were the words: “Play along.”

She raised her eyes to Alex. He subtly flipped the paper over.

On the other side it read: “We found the culprit.”

Larissa Weems’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, but she immediately pulled herself together, once again putting on the mask of a strict principal genuinely concerned for her students.

“I don’t even know whether to thank you, agent,” she said irritably, “or to be angry that you’re copying the records of one of Nevermore’s founders.”

“My apologies,” Alex replied calmly, slipping the paper back into his pocket. “And since I’m here, I believe it’s necessary to discuss Wednesday’s situation. If you don’t mind, it would be better to continue this conversation without outsiders. It involves the Bureau.”

Larissa Weems turned to Marilyn.

“Miss Thornhill, you may leave us. I’ll handle the rest myself.”

Marilyn didn’t say a word—she only nodded and left the office. Alex, together with Wednesday and Enid, stepped closer to the desk. He took out his notebook again and began writing. Larissa Weems sat down at the desk, waiting patiently.

Wednesday crossed her arms over her chest, watching what Alex was writing. When she read the first words, her gaze instantly darted toward the door behind which Marilyn had disappeared. Even Enid’s face showed genuine shock. Alex finished writing and looked up.

“Miss Weems, the thing is, the Bureau wants to hire Wednesday as an employee.”

Alex turned the notebook toward Larissa Weems. Only a few words were written on the page:

“Marilyn Thornhill is Laurel Gates.”

After reading it, Larissa Weems frowned and looked at Alex, waiting for confirmation.

Alex nodded silently and immediately wrote a continuation, explaining that the conversation could not be interrupted because they were being listened to. Larissa Weems’s face grew even more tense.

“Mr. Voldigoad,” she said in an even tone, “I of course understand that your Bureau of Control prefers to work with individuals who possess special abilities. But Miss Addams is still a student of Nevermore. Without parental consent, I cannot simply expel Wednesday.”

“My parents have already given their consent,” Wednesday said calmly, playing her part flawlessly in this performance.

Larissa Weems shifted her gaze from Wednesday back to Alex.

He did not stop for a second, continuing to write in the notebook as if the conversation were proceeding in the most ordinary way. He laid out in detail the plan to lure Marilyn out and isolate her, pointing out that a full evacuation of the students would be required so that no one would be harmed.

Larissa Weems’s tone of voice remained unchanged. Over the years, she had grown accustomed to playing different roles—her ability allowed her to be anyone, and outward composure was part of that mask.

Alex even described how he had managed to identify the culprit and why Marilyn specifically needed Wednesday. Larissa Weems read the notes with outward calm, though inwardly she realized a terrifying fact: right under her nose for twenty-five years had been a person who dreamed with all her heart of destroying Nevermore Academy and taking revenge for her family.

When Alex finished, Larissa Weems could only nod. Her foremost duty was the protection of the students—at any cost.

After finishing the conversation, Alex slipped the notebook back into his pocket and, smiling faintly, rose from his seat. After saying goodbye to Larissa Weems, he left the principal’s office together with Wednesday and Enid.

As soon as they stepped outside, Alex glanced in a certain direction. He noticed barely visible traces of dark mist, but pretended not to have seen anything and led the girls back to the dormitory.

Returning to the room and seeing the devastation, Enid let out a distressed sigh. Her entire collection of plush toys had turned into a chaotic mix of stuffing and torn pieces.

Wednesday, on the other hand, without changing her expression, calmly began gathering her belongings, carefully packing them into a small bag.

“Wednesday, why are you packing your things?” Enid asked, watching her.

“I’m going to spend the night at the hotel,” Wednesday replied without turning around. “And I’d advise you to do the same if you don’t want to end up as a hostage.”

Enid blinked in surprise and looked at Alex.

He nodded reassuringly, showing that he would accept any choice she made, but it would be much easier for him to protect her if she stayed close. He had no intention of allowing even the thought of Enid ending up in someone else’s hands.

Realizing that otherwise she could end up alone and become easy prey for someone who despises outcasts, Enid didn’t hesitate. She grabbed her backpack and hurriedly packed everything she would need for the night, including her skincare products.

In the end, she ended up with two bags—as if she were preparing not for one night, but for at least a week. Wednesday, on the other hand, only had a small backpack with the essentials and was carrying her typewriter.

Once Alex was sure the girls were ready, he approached them and placed his hands on their shoulders.

The next second, the space warped, and they found themselves in a hotel room.

Dean, sitting on the couch cleaning his pistol, flinched at their sudden appearance.

“Damn it,” he muttered irritably, “I told you not to just show up like that. I’ve already got enough of Castiel popping up behind me.”

“Alright, next time I’ll call,” Alex said, rolling his eyes. “Crybaby.”

“Go to hell,” Dean snapped, flipping him the middle finger. “And why the hell did you bring them here?”

Alex returned the gesture and, without wasting time on a back-and-forth, went to make tea for Wednesday and Enid. Wednesday was carefully organizing her things on the table, while Enid sat on the bed Alex usually slept on, tucking her legs under herself.

Alex quickly brewed the tea and prepared a light snack—not only for the girls but also for Dean, who certainly wouldn’t say no to food at this hour.

“So there won’t be any of this hostage nonsense,” Alex said casually, placing a cup of black tea next to Wednesday. “By the way, the villain turned out to be Marilyn Thornhill.”

“That redheaded teacher with the permanent smile?” Dean asked thoughtfully.

“Yeah, that’s her. Though, honestly, she was the most suspicious person in all of Nevermore,” Alex replied, handing Enid a cup of fruit tea.

“If you look at it from that angle,” Wednesday said calmly, taking a sip of her tea, “smart villains always know how to hide in plain sight. Many serial killers in real life appeared ordinary, but in reality, they were clever psychopaths, hiding in the shadows for years and adding to their victim lists.”

“Thanks for the enlightenment, pale girl,” Dean snorted, looking at Alex. “Hey, you got anything decent to eat? Besides sandwiches.”

“If you want dinner, I can cook,” Alex replied, finishing a message on his phone.

“Perfect. Work your magic,” Dean smirked.

Alex just shook his head and looked at Wednesday and Enid with a silent question. Enid immediately nodded enthusiastically, fully supporting the idea of a late-night snack. Wednesday gave a brief nod and returned to her tasks.

A few minutes later, the room filled with the sound of the typewriter, prompting Dean to turn up the TV volume. Alex got to cooking, while Enid followed him around, helping and occasionally sneaking bites from the table.

They cooked to music, lightly swaying in time. At one point, wolf ears sprouted on Enid’s head, but she didn’t even notice—her body had only changed a few hours ago, and she hadn’t yet learned to control such transformations.

After a while, Alex’s phone beeped. Taking it in hand, he saw a message: “The operatives will arrive on time.” Alex nodded briefly to himself and returned to cooking.

Finishing up, he set the plates on the table. Everyone sat down to eat. Alex turned on a movie on his laptop and, without much expression, ate while watching the screen alongside Enid. Wednesday was reading a book from Alex’s collection, and Dean ate while occasionally glancing at the same movie.

“Um… shouldn’t we go over the plan for tomorrow again?” Enid asked cautiously, looking around at everyone.

“We’ve already gone over everything,” Dean replied, shoving another bite into his mouth.

“And what if something goes wrong?” Enid looked nervously at Alex.

“If you don’t mess up, everything will go as planned,” Wednesday said calmly, looking up from her book.

“Enid, don’t worry,” Alex said gently, running his hand through her hair. “The plan is simple. We pretend that Wednesday is leaving. Then I swap you around: Wednesday with you and Dean. You catch the monster, and I break Marilyn’s legs with Wednesday. That’s it.”

“Do I really have to fight the monster?” Enid asked quietly, her eyes almost tearful as she looked at Alex. “It’s… well… a monster.”

Alex just smiled encouragingly and nodded toward Dean—he was the one who was supposed to do the main work. All that was required from Enid was to help.

Enid whimpered quietly and tried to psych herself up, stubbornly repeating to herself that she was a werewolf and had to manage.

Dean, however, wasn’t particularly thrilled about this kind of “help.” After all, Enid was just a teenager. When he voiced this, Enid immediately frowned, clenched her fists, and promised that tomorrow she would do everything perfectly and wouldn’t mess up.

Dean looked at her without much expectation. Even Wednesday gave Enid a glance full of undisguised doubt. Only Alex continued to encourage her, assuring her she could handle it and that it was time to show how strong she really was.

After finishing dinner, Alex returned to work. Dean started cleaning his weapons—it always helped him relax. Wednesday returned to her typewriter, continuing her novel. Enid lay down on the bed and started watching funny videos to calm herself.

When it was time for bed, Alex didn’t lie down—he stayed at his laptop, continuing to work. Dean fell asleep almost immediately. Enid—practically instantly.

Wednesday, reading her book by the lamp, looked up at Alex, focused on typing something on his keyboard. Watching him, she couldn’t help but think about what was happening between them. The thought that she was the bride of the Demon King struck her as unexpectedly… thrilling.

Alex felt her gaze, lifted his head, and smiled slightly. And so they continued to sit side by side: Wednesday moved closer to him and read quietly, while Alex filled out documents.

In the morning, to avoid disturbing Dean and Enid, Alex suggested going for a walk and getting some coffee. Wednesday didn’t object. Leaving the hotel, they strolled slowly through the city. Wednesday held Alex’s arm, walking calmly beside him.

Alex, as usual, scrolled through the news on his phone—another set of reports about missing people. He showed an article to Wednesday. She just raised an eyebrow and didn’t comment on what she read.

Arriving at the “Fluger” café, they went inside.

Alex immediately noticed Tyler sweeping the floor. Their eyes met, and for a moment Tyler’s expression faltered, but he quickly masked it with his usual smile. Setting the broom aside, he went behind the counter to serve customers.

Alex subtly touched Wednesday’s hand and barely tapped his finger, giving her a signal to play along.

Wednesday glanced at him and nodded without asking questions. After placing the order, Alex turned to Wednesday, who maintained a calm expression.

“So, how is it—getting an invitation from the Control Bureau?” he asked, playing along with the scene while Tyler prepared the coffee.

“Fine. Any place is better than Nevermore. As long as it’s interesting,” Wednesday replied evenly.

“The Bureau is quite interesting. Agents will arrive tonight to escort you. Dean and I are also leaving Jericho—most likely, our criminal has already fled after killing the mayor and setting the house on fire,” Alex said, putting his phone away.

Wednesday nodded.

Meanwhile, Tyler, overhearing the conversation, flinched slightly. His hand shook, spilling a little coffee. He quickly wiped the counter, trying not to reveal his mistake.

Alex noticed but acted as if nothing had happened.

When the coffee was ready, Wednesday reached for the cup of quadruple espresso. Her hand accidentally brushed Tyler’s.

At that very moment, a vision washed over her.

She didn’t lose consciousness—her eyes just glazed over for a moment. But for Wednesday, that moment stretched into eternity.

She saw Tyler in Hyde’s form. She saw exactly how he had killed people—including Rowan.

Then—how Marilyn had exploited his trust. How she deceived him, showing that his mother had been an outcast and attended Nevermore. How that woman had been Hyde.

Wednesday saw how Marilyn awakened Hyde within Tyler. Saw his first transformation. His first victim.

She even saw the moment Marilyn fed Tyler, in Hyde’s form, a black crystal the size of a fingernail. After that, Darkness settled within him—but only when he took Hyde’s form.

When the vision ended, Wednesday, as if nothing had happened, took her coffee. Then she firmly grabbed Alex’s hand, and they left the café together.

Pulling him a bit away, she stopped.

“It’s him. Hyde. I saw how Laurel Gates fed him the black crystal and gave him orders. Including the order to get close to me so I wouldn’t leave Nevermore,” Wednesday said, looking at Alex.

“Well… that was expected,” Alex replied calmly, taking a sip of his coffee.

“You suspected already?” Wednesday narrowed her eyes.

“You could say that. I stumbled upon Françoise Galpin’s dossier. She was admitted to a psychiatric hospital, where she relapsed. Then she was transferred to the Oldest House. An incident happened there—many staff members died. Françoise also died. Or rather… she had to be eliminated,” Alex said, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

Wednesday grew interested in the incident at the Oldest House and the Oldest House itself.

Seeing no reason to hide anything, Alex began to explain. About who—or rather what—invaded the Oldest House. About how it all ended. About the change in the Director and the consequences The Hiss’ appearance had for the entire Control Bureau.

By the time the story came to an end, they had just returned to the hotel. Enid was already sitting at the table in front of a small mirror, carefully applying her makeup. Dean, meanwhile—as a representative of men nearing forty—looked as though he was physically incapable of functioning properly without coffee.

Noticing Alex and Wednesday, Enid smiled and waved, not interrupting her eyeliner. Alex placed a cup in front of her and gently kissed the top of her head, careful not to ruin her makeup.

“You can skip kissing me. Just give me my coffee,” Dean said, looking at Alex with a hollow, exhausted stare.

“Ugh, Dean. Just… ugh. And besides, where have you ever seen Death bringing someone coffee? Coffee should be brought to me,” Alex said—and still set the cup down in front of Dean.

“Right here. Right in front of me,” Dean drawled, taking his first sip. “Coffee brought to me by Death himself… Ah, what a wonderful taste. A deadly delivery.”

Alex’s eye twitched. He slowly reached toward his inventory, clearly intending to pull out something heavy and persuasive. Enid watched the exchange with obvious interest, sipping her drink. Wednesday pretended nothing was happening and calmly sat down at the table.

Feeling a bit too confident, Dean continued to joke. Alex’s patience snapped. He whipped an iron collapsible baton out of his inventory and swung.

Dean reacted instantly—the Cain Blade flared to life in his hand, blocking the strike. Alex narrowed his eyes and threw a second blow, but Dean dodged and sprang to his feet.

They froze, facing each other. Alex gripped the baton. Dean held the Cain Blade, meeting his gaze with open challenge. Alex cracked his neck, preparing to continue. Dean mirrored the motion, slowly clenching his fingers.

“Stop arguing like children. We found Hyde,” Wednesday said calmly.

Both of them froze.

“So who’s our ‘house monster’?” Dean asked, sheathing the blade.

“The sheriff’s son,” Alex replied evenly, returning the baton to his inventory.

“The sheriff’s son… a monster?” Enid repeated in shock, nearly spilling her drink.

Alex nodded and looked at Wednesday, letting her continue.

Wednesday calmly recounted everything she had seen in her visions—from how Laurel Gates wormed her way into Tyler’s trust to the moment he transformed into Hyde.

After hearing this, Dean turned to Alex. Alex only let out a heavy sigh and filled in the rest, explaining what had happened in Sheriff Donovan’s family. The story was grim. Enid visibly grew sadder.

Dean merely shook his head—stories like this were all too familiar to him. Now that the monster’s identity was known, all that remained was to wait for the Control Bureau agents and stage the final act, drawing Hyde away from his handler.

Time steadily approached the appointed hour. Evening fell. A knock sounded at the door. Alex rose from his chair, walked over, and opened it. Kiran Estevez stood on the threshold.

“Well, look who it is… my old friend Kiran. Didn’t expect the Bureau to send you,” Alex said with a faint smile.

“I don’t recall when we ever became friends, agent,” Kiran replied calmly, appraising him.

“That hurts. I already thought we’d become best buddies,” Alex sighed. “Oh well. Come in. I’ll brief you and introduce you to the others.”

He stepped aside, letting Kiran inside. Kiran cast Alex a brief, appraising glance.

He had already become a legend within the Bureau of Control. Not only because he had been personally recruited by the Director, but also thanks to the assistance he provided to field agents—and the fact that, because of him, the Research Department suddenly had a lot more work.

Calmly entering the room, Kiran looked over everyone present. First Enid, who was doing her best to look composed and not betray her nerves. Then Wednesday, who met her with a cold, attentive gaze. And finally Dean. Another infamous legend of the Bureau of Control.

“I suppose I’ll start with introductions,” Alex said, gesturing to those present. “This is Wednesday Addams. She’s a key part of our plan. This is Enid Sinclair, a werewolf—she’ll be assisting in capturing Hyde. And finally…”

“Dean Winchester,” Kiran cut in calmly. “The man who has nearly destroyed the world several times. We know. Been there.”

“I told you, Dean—you’re a celebrity. In the tragic sense,” Alex shrugged.

“So, what’s the plan?” Kiran asked, taking a seat.

“And where are the other operatives?” Alex asked before beginning.

“Waiting outside. I’ll brief them later. Now—the plan,” Kiran replied with a slight nod.

Alex began to explain. What to do. When and where. Who played which role. Kiran listened carefully, nodding from time to time and frowning slightly—especially at the moments where teenagers were involved in the operation. Then she looked at Alex again… and once more remembered that he, too, was a teenager.

She habitually ignored that fact. There was not the slightest hint of youth in his behavior. When the plan was finished, Kiran nodded.

“We brought equipment for transporting Hyde. He will be taken to the Oldest House for containment.”

Alex added further clarification about what Hyde actually was, leaving Kiran with no remaining questions. When she heard that it concerned Françoise’s son—the very same woman who had once been held in the Oldest House—Kiran simply gave a short nod, betraying no emotion. When the explanations ended, she nodded again.

“Plan accepted. Ready to proceed.”

Alex nodded in return and, together with Wednesday, went outside—making sure it was clearly visible.

He greeted the operatives who had arrived with Kiran and reminded them to be cautious and prepared for any turn of events.

Out of the corner of his eye, Alex noticed surveillance from the shadows.

He tightened his grip on Wednesday’s hand, and together they boarded the armored truck.

Kiran followed, slammed the heavy iron doors shut, and gave a short knock on the wall, signaling to move out.

As the vehicle started moving, Alex calmly pulled out his phone and began counting down the time.

“Agent, are you absolutely sure this plan will work?” Kiran asked in an even tone.

“You can just call me Alex. And yes—the plan will work,” he replied, slipping the phone back into his pocket. “We were being watched when we got in. As soon as the truck gets far enough away, Hyde will attack. And now it’s time to switch the actors.”

He looked at her and smirked.

“And good luck, Kiran. Try not to die by accident. The current situation still isn’t as bad as Bright Falls.”

“Good luck to you too, Alex,” she replied with a slight nod. “The second team will handle the academy’s evacuation.”

Alex nodded and looked at Wednesday. She returned the nod—no words needed, making it clear she was ready. Alex placed a hand on her shoulder. And he vanished right before Kiran’s eyes.

The next moment, he was already back at the hotel, where Enid and Dean were waiting. Dean looked calm and focused. Enid, on the other hand, was visibly nervous, afraid of doing something wrong.

Alex smiled and gently ran a hand through her hair, casting a calming spell. Enid’s thoughts cleared. She took a deep breath, pulled herself together, smiled, and hugged Alex in gratitude.

“So, ready?” he asked, looking at them. “From here on, you’re on your own.”

“Move it,” Dean nodded. “I hope you deal with that teacher before we deal with the kid.”

Alex only smirked and placed his hands on Enid’s and Dean’s shoulders—and the next second, they were inside the Bureau of Control’s armored truck. With a casual wave, Alex vanished, leaving Dean and Enid to handle Hyde.

Returning to the hotel room, Alex looked at Wednesday and held out his hand. Without hesitation, she took it—and they disappeared.

Alex and Wednesday reappeared near Nevermore, roughly a hundred meters from the Bureau of Control’s armored vehicles, beside which operatives were already stationed.

Holding Wednesday’s hand, Alex moved forward, carefully examining the checkpoint set up along the access road. The moment they approached, weapons were immediately trained on them.

However, Alex didn’t need to show any identification—he was recognized at once.

He noted that there were no fewer than thirty Bureau of Control personnel on site. That, however, was expected: Alex had submitted a detailed report in advance and requested reinforcements to ensure the operation proceeded without incident.

“Who’s in charge here?” he asked as he approached the checkpoint.

“I am, sir. Nicholas Wood. Nice to meet you,” the man replied, extending his hand.

“Likewise,” Alex nodded, shaking it. “The evacuation of Nevermore’s students will begin shortly. Your task is to ensure their safety. We don’t know what else someone who’s essentially carrying an atomic bomb in their pocket might do.”

“Sir, the perimeter suppressors are fully installed,” one of the operatives reported, stepping closer.

“Excellent work, Nelson,” Nicholas said, turning to the group. “Reminder: our primary objective is the safety of the children. Stay alert.”

The operatives nodded in unison, confirming their readiness.

Alex quickly laid out the plan of action and separately went over possible contingencies in case something went wrong. Once the briefing was complete, he led Wednesday back toward the academy.

Before reaching Nevermore, Alex cast a “Do Not Notice Me” spell on them, allowing them to pass onto the grounds without interference.

He needed to reach Larissa Weems’s office while remaining unseen—the key was not to spook Marilyn too early.

Moving through the academy corridors like shadows, Alex and Wednesday reached the principal’s office. Alex dispelled the spell and pushed the door open.

Inside were Bianca, Xavier, and other members of the Belladonna Club. Judging by the tension on their faces, it was clear that Larissa Weems had already filled them in.

“Judging by your expressions, you’ve been briefed,” Alex said, spreading his hands slightly. “That simplifies things.”

“Are you absolutely sure that Teacher Thornhill is the culprit?” Bianca asked, fixing him with a hard stare.

“Yes,” Wednesday answered calmly, speaking before Alex could. “We’ve also identified the monster she controls. All you need to do is evacuate the students and faculty while we distract Marilyn.”

Alex nodded, confirming her words.

The members of the Belladonna Club exchanged glances and looked toward Larissa Weems. She had been sitting in silence the entire time, her hands folded in front of her face. What she disliked most was the fact that a person who wanted to destroy Nevermore had been hiding inside the academy for twenty‑five years—right under their noses.

Catching the students’ looks, Larissa nodded, confirming the plan of action.

Realizing the importance of the task, Bianca removed the amulet that suppressed her siren powers, so she wouldn’t accidentally influence others with her voice. Alex explained that after the evacuation, Bureau of Control operatives would be waiting to escort everyone into the city and ensure their safety.

After a brief discussion, the members of the Belladonna Club left the office and began the evacuation—quietly and without drawing attention, supported by Bianca’s abilities.

Alex and Wednesday were also ready to move out—to the conservatory, where Marilyn currently was. Their task was to buy enough time.

Alex hadn’t fully decided yet whether to allow Marilyn to resurrect her ancestor… or simply stop her earlier. After some thought, he concluded that letting it happen was the better option.

He placed a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder, sharing his thoughts with her.

Wednesday looked at him, narrowed her eyes slightly, and nodded.

“Miss Weems, you should personally oversee the evacuation,” Alex said calmly. “Without her chained monster, Marilyn isn’t that dangerous.”

“Just don’t destroy the academy, Agent,” Larissa sighed as she rose from behind her desk. “Even the restoration would cost far too much.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll cover the expenses,” Alex shrugged.

Larissa Weems looked at Alex and merely shook her head, putting on her coat to leave.

But Alex saw far more than ordinary people. At that moment, he was Death—and so he could clearly see the instant when a life was meant to end. Larissa Weems was destined to die in the conservatory at Marilyn’s hands. And that was exactly what Alex intended to prevent.

Whatever the case, Larissa Weems was a good headmistress. Flawed, sharp‑tempered, and stubborn—but good. She didn’t deserve such a death.

Alex took Wednesday by the hand, and they headed toward the conservatory at a calm, unhurried pace. From the outside, it almost looked like an ordinary walk… as if they were going on a date rather than heading toward a woman consumed by vengeance and darkness.

As they approached the conservatory, Alex took a cigarette from his pocket. With a familiar, practiced motion, Wednesday pulled out a black lighter and brought the flame closer. Alex smiled. Together, they stepped inside.

Silence reigned in the conservatory. Marilyn was busy with something, standing with her back to the entrance, completely unaware that all her plans were about to collapse.

To get her attention, Wednesday glanced at a table nearby and, extending a finger, lightly nudged a glass vial. It fell to the floor and shattered at once with a loud crash.

“Wednesday… Agent…” Marilyn said, hiding something behind her back. “I thought you had both already left the city.”

“That would have been the case,” Wednesday replied calmly, “if someone hadn’t decided to use me for a ritual. And how could I miss the chance to take revenge on someone who thinks they can steal my things?”

She casually knocked another empty vial onto the floor.

“Wednesday, I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Marilyn said, feigning sincere confusion. “I know your room was trashed, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Don’t play dumb, Laurel.”

Alex’s voice sounded lazy and cold as he exhaled cigarette smoke.

“That’s right. Laurel Gates. I know your name. Just look at your hands.”

Marilyn suddenly raised her hand—and saw inscriptions on her skin. They vanished almost immediately, as if they had never been there. She looked at Alex, who regarded her with a playful, almost mocking interest.

Marilyn’s face twisted. She gripped the syringe behind her back tighter, waiting for the right moment to strike. Wednesday, meanwhile, remained completely calm, keeping her eyes locked on Marilyn.

“Alright, you caught me,” Marilyn finally said, dropping the mask of the kind teacher. “Now what? Send me to prison? Good luck. In twenty-four hours, I’ll be free.”

“And what gives you such confidence?” Alex asked, lazily scratching behind his ear. “The power that doesn’t belong to you? Or the organization that stands behind you? Which of these gave you so much courage?”

“You have no idea the influence this organization has,” Marilyn hissed, tightening her grip on the syringe. “Even your Bureau won’t be able to touch them.”

“Yeah‑yeah…” Alex sighed. “I serve the King of Hell, I’m an angel of heaven, I’m the Reaper, blah‑blah‑blah. Same song everywhere.”

He took a drag of his cigarette.

“But the result is always the same. Everyone dies. You didn’t really think you’d walk out of here alive, did you? All I’d need to do is write a report: ‘During apprehension, the suspect attempted to escape.’ And I, by sheer coincidence, killed her. Bureaucracy in its purest form.”

He looked her straight in the eyes.

“Now give up the Darkness. Wednesday will work with you a little to get some answers. Maybe you’ll even get lucky… and not die.”

“You won’t,” Wednesday added calmly.

“Then you won’t,” Alex shrugged. “So let’s hurry. Don’t waste my time.”

He began to move closer slowly.

Marilyn’s grip on the syringe became frantic. When Alex was just a step away, her eyes turned cold.

“Go to hell!” she screamed, swinging.

Alex intercepted her hand. A playful smile spread across his face.

He squeezed her palm—and the syringe shattered with a crunch, shards piercing the skin. Belladonna venom instantly entered her bloodstream through the wounds. In the next movement, Alex grabbed Marilyn by the collar and sharply tilted her head back.

The forehead strike was quick and precise. A distinct crack of a broken nose echoed. Marilyn recoiled, covering her face with her hands, feeling the blinding pain. And at that very moment, she started laughing.

The laughter was insane. A black fog enveloped her face, and her body seemed to be consumed by a dark cloak. Alex already knew how it would end. He stepped back, shielding Wednesday. Thick, dense darkness erupted from Marilyn’s hand and forcefully threw them both aside.

Alex’s plan was simple: let Marilyn knock them out—so she could perform the resurrection ritual.

Wednesday agreed. She wanted Marilyn to see her hopes crumble right before her eyes.

As they were thrown back, Alex and Wednesday pretended to lose consciousness, allowing Marilyn to drag them elsewhere.

To be continued…

(Well, as I said, the conclusion of this mini-arc will take one or two chapters. Then there’ll be a bit of the Oldest House, and then the main events of Supernatural. I need to start empowering Sam, after all, and I already know how that’ll go. Okay, I have all the other similar plans that I’m still debating whether to implement or not. Hmmm…)

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