After the visit to Hell, the drive back to the Bunker passed in tense silence. All because of the truth that had come to light: the visions sent to Sam had not come from God at all, but from Lucifer himself, deliberately luring him to the Cage. As soon as they got into the Impala, Alex briefly and without unnecessary emotion explained what Lucifer had been trying to achieve and what kind of plan he had been plotting, and those words alone were enough to give Dean and Sam plenty to think about.

Sam felt a storm of conflicting emotions inside him: the hope for victory he had been clinging to so desperately turned out to be a banal lie—just another manipulation by Lucifer, who had decided to play on his faith. Alex and Dean tried to encourage him, reminding him that there was still a chance and that they could find something to help them fight Amara, but all Sam could manage was a silent nod.

This time, he remembered Dean’s words especially clearly—that God didn’t give a damn about this world if He hadn’t bothered to crawl out of His hole when Amara was released, and that the entire burden had once again fallen on their shoulders.

No matter how much Sam wanted to believe in help from above, his faith slowly faded along with the realization of a simple truth: they could only rely on themselves and search for a chance at victory on their own, even if that chance was vanishingly small.

Dean, unlike Sam, wasn’t particularly crushed by the news of the deception. From the very beginning, he hadn’t harbored any illusions about the visions or the idea that God was sending them, and at the same time, learning that Lucifer was behind it all brought him a strange, almost imperceptible sense of relief.

After returning to the Bunker, Alex, Dean, and Sam got out of the Impala, after which Alex led them to the library, just as he had promised, to finally put all the cards on the table and explain his plans. Once inside, he pulled three glasses and a bottle of whiskey out of his inventory, and all three sat down at the table. Alex silently poured the drinks, and for several seconds they drank in silence.

Dean took the first sip, glanced briefly at the glass, and nodded approvingly, appreciating the taste, while Sam almost immediately drained his, trying to drown out the emotions overflowing inside him. When the glasses were empty, Alex poured the whiskey again.

“So,” Dean broke the silence, taking another sip. “Out with it. What’s your brilliant plan? You said yourself you’d explain everything after visiting Lucifer’s Cage. We’re listening.”

“Originally, I planned to quietly release Lucifer…” Alex began, calmly taking a sip of whiskey.

“What?! Why?!” Sam shouted sharply, slamming his palm down on the table.

“For starters, listen before you start yelling,” Alex replied evenly, lightly tapping his fingers against the tabletop. “It’s possible Lucifer really does know how to defeat Amara, or at least weaken her. But that’s not enough. Like I said before, we need to buy time.”

“And how exactly were you planning to buy time using the biggest bastard in the entire universe?” Dean asked with a frown, watching Alex closely.

“Let’s just say that with a couple of manipulations, I managed to peek at something. Lucifer was one of those who took part in imprisoning Amara in the Cage,” Alex answered with a faint, almost lazy smile.

“Even so, letting a wild card like that loose is a pretty questionable idea,” Sam shook his head.

“Maybe,” Alex shrugged. “But I already did it.”

“When the hell did you manage that?!” Dean sharply set his glass down on the table and stared at him.

“I damaged the Cage using Lucifer’s face,” Alex said calmly, pouring himself more whiskey. “And now that he’s free, where do you think he’ll go?”

“He’ll reclaim his throne in Hell to gather supporters,” came a cold, even voice. “And most likely, he’ll want to kill the witch capable of controlling his Cage. And, while he’s at it, dethrone Crowley.”

Alex, Dean, and Sam all turned their heads at once. In the doorway of the library stood Wednesday, holding a book and watching them with her usual calm.

Alex, Dean, and Sam simultaneously turned toward Wednesday, who, as if nothing had happened, appeared in the library and calmly set the book back in its place. She was wearing her usual black dress, and Thing was perched on her shoulder, cheerfully waving at Alex, Dean, and Sam.

Alex couldn’t help but smile—Wednesday had understood his plan, even though he had only hinted at it. Dean and Sam exchanged a glance, then looked at Alex, and he gave a short nod, confirming that Wednesday had understood everything correctly. Both frowned, but nodded again, signaling that they were ready to hear the rest of a plan that had sounded crazy from the very beginning.

“Exactly, my dear Wednesday,” Alex said, lazily running a finger along the rim of his glass. “So, what do you think he’ll want to do next?”

“Not hard to guess,” said Lucina, entering the library with a mug of coffee in her hands. “He’ll try to bring Heaven under his control. If you believe what Castiel said, there are critically few angels left there. And Lucifer showing up with promises to defeat Amara will leave them no choice—they’ll either believe him or join him.”

“And what’s the result?” Dean frowned even more. “That bastard will bring everything he can under his control. How exactly is that supposed to help us buy time?”

“Looks like the phrase ‘has strength, no brains’ describes you perfectly, Dean,” Wednesday said coldly, giving him a blank stare.

“Don’t look at me like that, pale girl,” Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t go to school for future Sherlocks like the three of you.”

“Seems like I’m starting to understand where you’re going with this,” Sam said slowly, as if suddenly putting all the pieces together. “If that’s the case, it really could give us time.”

“Oh, we have another Sherlock here,” Dean smirked, taking a sip of whiskey. “Come on, Sammy, enlighten the class. Because all I got so far is: Lucifer’s going to pull everyone under him again.”

“It’s pretty simple, Dean,” Sam said, more confidently now. “Amara hates God and wants to lure Him out. When Lucifer shows up on the scene, she’ll almost certainly focus on him. Instead of killing him immediately, she’ll try to use him as bait—torturing ‘her beloved son’ to force God to show up. And while Amara is occupied with Lucifer, we’ll have time to destroy the Shards of Darkness.”

Sam drained his glass in one gulp, as if putting a period at the end of his words.

“If she doesn’t kill him immediately, of course,” Dean added grimly, clenching his fist. “But if she doesn’t… yeah, that could give us some time.”

“Oh, you’re all here,” came a cheerful voice, and Alice ran into the library with a light smile. “Dean, keep your phone handy. Crowley will call you soon—right after he escapes from Lucifer’s grasp.”

“Your visions again?” Dean muttered wearily. “For heaven’s sake, I’m already so tangled up in all this that my head is splitting. I’ve had enough of your brilliant plans. I’m going to rest.”

He grabbed the bottle and glass, but Alex immediately stopped him.

“Put the bottle back. This whiskey is damn hard to get.”

“How about ‘no’?” Dean smirked. “I think I’ve earned a little expensive drink. You said yourself you’re rich, so buy yourself more.”

With a wave of his hand, he walked out, carrying the bottle and glass with him.

Sam only gave a faint smile, rose from his seat, and left as well—he clearly needed some time alone to sort out his thoughts. Alex remained in the library with Wednesday, Lucina, and Alice, who kept him company.

He pulled another bottle of whiskey from his inventory, along with extra glasses for Lucina and Alice. He could buy this whiskey without any problem, but it would require another trip to Night City. Wednesday stayed nearby, silently reading her book while the others drank.

After a while, Samantha and Enid arrived in the library. Alex offered for them to join, but Enid immediately declined—she preferred sweet drinks and didn’t like alcohol. Samantha, however, didn’t object. Alex sat surrounded by the girls, throwing out silly jokes: Lucina looked at him like he was an idiot, Enid and Alice laughed, and the atmosphere grew warmer and livelier. Even the noise didn’t bother Wednesday—now, all of them were her family.

Alex quietly smirked, lost in his own thoughts about what he had already done and where it could all lead.

“You know, Lucina…” he said thoughtfully, taking a sip of whiskey.

“What?” she asked, resting her cheek on her fist and staring pensively at the liquid in her glass.

“Sometimes it feels like life in Orario or Night City was much simpler,” Alex exhaled heavily. “You kill—get paid. No thinking required, just do it. But I know that neither you, nor Becca, nor Gloria, nor Kiwi would ever want to go back there. And I don’t want to either. It’s just… things were simpler there.”

The girls shifted their gaze to Alex, who was staring thoughtfully ahead. What stood out most was the expression in his eyes—they carried fatigue. Alex knew very well that he, too, got tired. Even though he tried his best to enjoy every moment in each new world, the weight of his work gradually pressed down on him more and more.

He took on far too much, literally shouldering the entire burden himself. Even when he started working with the Bureau of Control, instead of refusing, he consciously chose to help them to reduce potential casualties among the field operatives. Alex knew he needed to stop taking everything on himself, but he simply couldn’t.

All his justifications that he was paid for it were nothing more than convenient excuses. Yet he knew for certain: he wasn’t going to stop. He would always strive for a happy ending, even in stories where, in essence, he shouldn’t even exist.

“Where did those thoughts come from?” Lucina asked softly, placing her hand on his. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to visit so many places? What happened now?”

“I don’t know… Maybe I’m just tired,” Alex replied thoughtfully, raising his eyes to the ceiling. “Different worlds, different people, different encounters, different stories—joyful ones and tragic ones. It’s interesting to watch. Probably, if someone knew exactly how I do my work, they’d call me a hypocrite. Tell that to a normal person, and they’d immediately label me a bastard. After all, with this kind of power, I could save everyone and let no one die. But instead, I sacrifice the few to secure a good ending for the many.”

“I don’t see a problem with that,” Wednesday said coldly, closing her book and giving Alex an attentive look. “Sacrificing the few to save the many is standard practice. And instead of sulking, you should remember that after your intervention, worlds actually get better. Or do you want me to remind you how you’ve changed them? So stop whining and use that brain of yours—at least the wooden one you’ve got.”

“Exactly!” Enid chimed in immediately, trying to encourage him. “I couldn’t do anything like that. You have to think, decide who to save… no, no, that’s definitely not for me. But you—you’re amazing.”

“Alex,” Lucina said with a gentle smile, stroking his cheek, “have you seen what Night City has turned into since we left?”

“No, haven’t had the time,” Alex shook his head. “I only know that Gloria often talks to Hanako, and Valeri visits regularly—sometimes for new parts for weapons, sometimes for the bike.”

“Hanako did a great job stabilizing the city,” Lucina continued calmly. “Now Night City isn’t a city of death. Mornings no longer start with news about how many people died overnight. So stop sulking and get back to your crazy behavior. Or else I’ll kick your ass.”

“That’s what Becca usually said when we lived in Night City,” Alex smirked. “And Kiwi just kicked me.”

“Kiwi’s not here, but I can kick you,” Alice said cheerfully with a wide grin. “Wanna try?”

“I think I’ll pass,” Alex squinted. “If you kick me first, the others will join in. And don’t forget—I know kung fu.”

“I know kung fu too,” Alice replied, squinting back. “And my kung fu is stronger than yours.”

Alex smirked, silently letting her try. Alice grinned mischievously and, using her vampire speed, was behind him in an instant, wrapping her arms around his neck. Alex just laughed, vanished, and immediately appeared behind her, starting to tickle.

Alice laughed loudly, wriggling in his arms. Enid jumped over the table, trying to help her friend, but ended up in his grip as well, and within moments was laughing just as uncontrollably. Wednesday watched this and only sighed heavily, considering their attempts to deal with Alex downright foolish.

Lucina quietly smiled, noticing how he was gradually returning to his usual self. She knew her husband far too well and understood that the source of his dark thoughts had been the encounter with Lucifer from this universe—a pathetic creation of Chuck, made almost as a mockery of Alex’s father.

And in itself, it was remarkable that Alex hadn’t snapped and destroyed Hell, like he did when he saw Adam die at the hands of Zeus and threatened all the gods with genocide in Valhalla.

After finishing tickling Alice and Enid, Alex shifted his gaze to the others. His eyes met Lucina’s, and she smiled warmly, rising from her seat and approaching him. She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the lips, making Alex forget everything for a brief moment. Then she calmly stepped back and suddenly darted off, skillfully leaping over the table and steps, disappearing around the corner.

“Traitor!!!” Alice shouted indignantly, seeing Lucina run away.

In response, only Lucina’s laughter echoed, gradually fading further and further.

Alex blinked in surprise and turned his gaze to Wednesday. She rose from her chair with a cold expression, snapping her book shut. Approaching Alex, she silently kissed him on the lips, and then, still holding the book in her hands, simply walked away.

Alex, Enid, and Alice watched in complete shock as Wednesday calmly left the library.

Alex turned to Samantha. She merely smiled quietly—and in the next moment, dissolved into a swirl of butterflies, leaving behind only a whiskey glass, the lipstick mark clearly visible on its rim.

Alex thoughtfully stroked his chin and looked at Alice and Enid. They immediately understood: they had been abandoned too. Exchanging a glance, both thought the same thing at once—and in the very next second, they sprang into action, deciding to escape.

Alex stood for a few more seconds, thoughtfully stroking his chin and wondering why everyone had run off so quickly. After all, he had only wanted to tickle them.

Nevertheless, a smile remained on his face. As always, his family helped him shake off the fatigue, which immediately became secondary. Chuckling, Alex headed after the girls, hands resting behind his head.

As he left the library, Castiel appeared from around the corner. He watched Alex go thoughtfully, holding his gaze for a moment longer before turning and walking in the opposite direction.

The next morning, Alex and the girls were awakened by an insistent knocking on the door.

Alex opened his eyes and carefully slipped out of Lucina’s embrace, as she was pressed against him with her whole body. The other girls woke up as well, sleepily rubbing their eyes and trying to understand what was going on.

Alex got out of bed and opened the door. A visibly distressed Sam was standing on the threshold. His appearance spoke for itself — he was in a state of complete confusion and shock. Alex raised an eyebrow, noticing his condition.

“What happened, Sam?” he asked, yawning slightly. “Did you really have to pound on my door like that at this hour?”

“Dean is gone!” Sam blurted out. “I went to wake him up, and he’s not there. The Impala is still here, all his things too. He’s nowhere to be found.”

Alex frowned slightly and nodded. He quickly changed clothes, briefly explained to the girls what had happened and that Dean was missing. They nodded silently and began getting dressed. A few minutes later, Alex and Sam were already heading to the main hall, where the supernatural activity map, personally configured by Alex, was located.

Activating the system, Alex began to “search” for Dean—or at least pretended to. In reality, he already knew where Dean was. Within a few moments, a marker appeared on the holographic map of the country—Dean was literally on the opposite end of the nation. Sam frowned upon seeing this.

“What the hell is he doing so far away?” he muttered. “How did he even get there?”

“No idea,” Alex replied, stroking his chin. “Could be Amara’s doing. Why, though—that’s unclear. And how long he’s been there is unknown too.”

Sam only nodded grimly, leaning on the table.

Alex continued to ponder. Why had Amara teleported Dean across half the country? The only explanation that came to mind was another “meeting” between Dean and Amara. Otherwise, she could have simply appeared to him in a dream, as she had done before.

While Alex was lost in thought, Sam didn’t take his grim eyes off the holographic map, fixed on the marker showing his brother’s location. Suddenly, the bunker’s alarm blared, and red warning lights immediately flashed. The girls ran into the main hall and stared at the map.

At the same moment, colossal changes began to appear on the holographic projection. At the location where Dean—and presumably Amara—was, a red circle began expanding, marked as a release of heavenly energy.

The circle grew until it reached a radius of five kilometers, then stabilized. Castiel, who had arrived last, squinted at the map and immediately understood what was happening.

“Cass, what’s going on?” Sam snapped, turning sharply to him. “What’s this release of heavenly energy?”

“Heaven deployed a weapon,” Castiel replied quietly, eyes still glued to the map. “To destroy the Darkness.”

“But Dean’s there…” Sam started, then fell silent.

At that very moment, a portal opened, and Dean was hurled out, landing with a heavy thud on his back. He looked as if he had been shoved into a microwave and forgotten to be taken out. Barely appearing, Dean rolled over and immediately vomited all over the floor. He was in a truly miserable state: steam rose from his body, his muscles twitched, and his stomach continued violently expelling its contents.

Sam instinctively rushed to him. Wednesday frowned slightly, observing the steam rising from Dean’s body. Enid and Alice covered their mouths with their hands, unable to watch. Alex merely frowned, first looking at Dean, then at the holographic map, clicking his tongue in irritation.

The heavenly army had outdone itself once again—everything within a five-kilometer radius had been wiped off the face of the earth, including a small town of just over a hundred people. Alex knew exactly what had happened and what weapon the angels had used, but this knowledge only deepened his irritation.

“Don’t touch him,” Castiel said sharply, grabbing Sam’s hand. “Or you’ll be affected too. Dean is suffering the consequences of the strike. The angels released energy of colossal power, contaminating the entire area.”

“Can he be helped?” Alice asked cautiously, keeping her distance.

“No,” Castiel replied calmly. “Dean was at the epicenter of the blast. But he managed to survive… or perhaps the Darkness helped him. I do not know. The consequences should pass on their own, since nothing irreversible has occurred—yet.”

“And what could have happened to him?” Lucina asked, looking at Dean, who was still trying to recover.

“From a previous similar strike, Lot’s wife turned into a pillar of salt,” Castiel said impassively, approaching Dean to help him up.

“Just what we needed… Alright, Kass, take Dean to a room, and we’ll go check the strike site. I’ll call the Bureau to secure the area so no one wanders in,” Alex said, pulling out his phone.

“I’ll come with you,” Dean rasped. “Give me five… no, ten minutes—and I’ll be good as new. Just need to brush my teeth—I just returned yesterday’s dinner. We need to check if Amara is alive or if she was actually killed.”

“No, Dean,” Castiel shook his head, holding him back. “You cannot go there. Alex and I will go ourselves. Neither death nor angel is in danger there.”

“Alright… probably for the best,” Dean exhaled wearily, struggling to swallow the rising nausea. “Not every day you get hit by an angelic cannon.”

“Sleep is the best medicine for recovery. I saw it on TV,” Castiel said seriously, nodding.

“And, guys… if those feathered ones succeeded, and Amara is dead… return her body…” Dean added in an even weaker voice.

“Go rest. We’ll check everything,” Alex nodded.

Dean just nodded wearily and, leaning on Castiel, made his way toward the exit, with Sam immediately following to monitor his condition. Alex watched them go, knowing he could have fully restored Dean, but he noticed the power Amara had imbued in him was already strengthening his body again, initiating another process of enhancement. It wasn’t healing—it was adaptation—and interfering now would only do more harm than good.

Deciding to leave things as they were, Alex pulled out his phone and dialed Jesse. As soon as the call connected, a shout came from the other end—an alarm had gone off in the Oldest House, and Jesse genuinely had no idea what was happening.

Alex explained briefly and matter-of-factly what the angels had done and what it had caused. After listening, Jesse clicked her tongue in irritation and promised to dispatch operatives to cordon off the entire affected area. Finishing the call, Alex pocketed his phone and rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“Seems the angels don’t care about the casualties,” Wednesday said without much emotion.

“Nothing surprising there,” Lucina shook her head. “For them, only the result matters. Which, as always, isn’t achieved.”

“So Amara wasn’t hurt?” Alice asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“She just got a little tickled. And her makeup got slightly ruined,” Alex replied, stroking his chin. “I think she decided to play my old trick.”

“What trick?” Enid asked, looking at him.

“Pretending to be wounded,” Lucina said calmly, giving Alex a brief glance.

Alex smiled and gave Lucina a thumbs-up. It was the same tactic he had once taught Amara—a way to appear weakened while slowly restoring her strength without revealing it to anyone.

A few minutes later, Castiel returned and gave a brief nod, signaling he was ready. Alex returned the smile, and in the next moment, both of them vanished.

Moments later, Alex and Castiel were several kilometers from the explosion’s epicenter. Alex looked around, lit a cigarette, and lifted his gaze to the sky. Everywhere he looked, the world appeared gray, faded, and dead, as if stripped of all color. The air was thick with a sharp, intrusive smell of salt that couldn’t be ignored. The sensation weighed heavier than the silence itself.

Soon, Alex’s eyes fell on a deer, completely turned to salt. Frozen mid-leap, it still looked almost alive, making the sight even more chilling. An absurd, almost outrageous thought flashed through Alex’s mind—could such salt be used in food, or was that pure madness?

“Everything’s so gray… is this because of the heavenly cannon?” Alex asked, flicking ash and surveying the area.

“Yes,” Castiel nodded. “Heaven has used this weapon only a few times. And each time, the consequences were the same.”

“And how long will this land remain contaminated?” Alex asked, pointing at the salt deer with his cigarette. “Just looking at it, very strange thoughts start creeping in.”

“For several decades, this land will be uninhabitable,” Castiel said calmly, scanning the surroundings. “Anyone who dares to enter will turn into a pillar of salt.”

“Creepy as hell,” Alex muttered, exhaling smoke. “Alright, so where do we go? Most of Death’s forces stayed in the Library of Life, under my clone’s supervision.”

“The epicenter is that way. Follow me,” Castiel said, moving forward.

Alex just shrugged and followed him. Soon they reached a small town located not far from the epicenter. Despite it being broad daylight, a gloomy half-light hung over everything, as if the light itself was afraid to linger here for long. Entering the town, they immediately saw people turned into salt—some staring up at the sky, others covering their faces with their hands, as if trying to shield themselves from a blinding light in their final moment.

Alex let out a heavy sigh. It reminded him of the aftermath of a nuclear explosion—when people vanished so quickly that only shadows remained on walls and sidewalks. Castiel, however, kept moving forward, neither stopping nor averting his gaze. He knew, just as Alex did, that there was no one left to save here.

As they passed another building, they heard the sound of something falling. Both instantly tensed and exchanged glances. No human or animal could have survived in a place like this. Alex drew the “Blue Rose” from behind his back, while Castiel gripped an angel blade in his hand. Carefully approaching, they spotted a small grocery store and were already preparing to go inside.

“Wait, wait! I’m not an enemy! Please, don’t kill me!” a woman’s voice called out from within.

The next second, a young woman stepped out of the store. She had long, curly light-brown hair and thick-framed glasses. She looked like an ordinary office worker who had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Taking careful steps forward, she made it clear by her every movement that she posed no threat and wanted only one thing—to survive. Alex and Castiel immediately understood: she was an angel.

“Who are you?” Castiel asked, not lowering his blade.

“I—I… My name is Ambriel. I keep statistics on births and deaths in Heaven. I’m an angel,” she said, trying to speak calmly, though her voice betrayed her with a tremor.

“Your name is known to me…” Castiel said, lowering his weapon.

“And you must be Castiel,” Ambriel said a bit more confidently. “I’ve heard of you. And you…” she looked at Alex and visibly paled. “You must be… the new Death… Please, don’t kill me.”

“And what is an office worker from Heaven doing in a place like this?” Alex asked, holstering the revolver behind his back. “Aren’t you supposed to be filing reports right now, like usual?”

“For the same reason as you, I suppose,” Ambriel replied, growing more nervous by the second. “Death is supposed to be here, right? I didn’t mean to… Angels don’t often encounter Death. Usually, reapers deal with her… with their superiors.”

“Heaven wants to know whether the Darkness was destroyed?” Castiel asked, watching her closely.

“More or less,” Ambriel nodded.

“And they sent you?” Alex shook his head. “I almost feel sorry for you, Ambriel. Not the nicest role—to be cannon fodder. Want some candy?”

He pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and held it out to her. Ambriel took it cautiously, as if afraid it might be a trap.

“You’re not going to kill me, are you?” she asked quietly.

“Do they really think in Heaven that I kill angels?” Castiel asked, turning to her.

“They say far worse things about you up there,” Ambriel answered carefully. “Maybe… we could join forces? Then no one would have to kill anyone.”

Castiel looked at Alex, and Ambriel did the same, doing her best not to betray her nervousness. After all, she was in the presence of Death itself, so she remained as cautious and respectfully formal as possible. Alex, however, just shrugged—his only concern was to check on Amara and make sure she was okay after the blast from Heaven’s cannon.

Seeing this gesture, Castiel glanced at Ambriel and gave a brief nod. Ambriel exhaled in relief, pressing a hand to her chest as the tension slowly eased. If Alex had refused, her only option would have been to return to Heaven—a situation that would have ended badly for her. Castiel and Alex moved forward toward the epicenter of the explosion, with Ambriel following cautiously, trying not to fall behind but also not to get too close, keeping herself alert.

After a few minutes of walking through the forest, Ambriel tried to start a conversation with Castiel, who calmly answered her questions without any hint of irritation. Alex, meanwhile, observed Ambriel from the corner of his eye and was surprised to find he felt none of the usual disgust that angels often provoked in him.

He quickly understood why—Ambriel held no high rank in the heavenly hierarchy and was, in essence, the weak cannon fodder sent to check whether the Darkness had been destroyed. Soon, they reached the epicenter of the explosion, and everything within a hundred-meter radius had been completely scorched. Seeing this, Alex finally understood why Dean had looked like he had been pulled out of a microwave.

“I didn’t think the aftermath of Heaven’s weapon would be this severe,” Ambriel said, staring at the charred earth.

“And the fact that everything within several kilometers was turned into salt is… a minor detail to you?” Alex remarked, squatting down and touching the edge of the crater with his fingers.

“Well… I’m more of an office worker than a fighter,” Ambriel replied, embarrassed. “Where do we go next? I’ve already checked that part of the forest, nothing unusual there…”

“You don’t say,” Castiel said, looking at her as if she were an especially naive creature. “Do you even realize it’s broad daylight?”

“And…?” Ambriel asked, tilting her head.

“Aren’t you bothered by how dark it is around us?” Alex interjected, rising from his squat. “Or did you decide we’ve suddenly ended up on the other side of the world where it’s night?”

“That… is actually a very good question,” Ambriel nodded thoughtfully.

Alex stifled a sigh, and as he passed Ambriel, he casually patted her on the head, as if trying to console a bewildered child. Castiel just shook his head and followed him.

Ambriel stood there for a few more seconds, confused and unsure what she had said wrong, then, realizing they weren’t waiting for her, hurried to catch up.

Looking around, Alex suggested they split up and immediately turned in the direction where he clearly sensed Amara’s presence. Castiel could only nod and watch him thoughtfully.

Alex calmly walked through the forest, hands in his pockets, until a few minutes later he stepped into a small clearing—this was exactly where the familiar sense of her power emanated from. On the ground lay Amara.

Seeing her condition, Alex smirked: she clearly hadn’t sustained any serious injuries and had only minor scratches. Unable to resist, he pulled out his phone and took a quick photo before slipping it back into his pocket. He stepped closer and squatted down, resting his cheeks in his hands.

“How long are you planning to pretend you’re dead—or completely exhausted?” Alex asked with a playful tone. “I get wanting to show you’ve been hurt… but no need to overdo it.”

Amara, who had been feigning injury all this time, heard that painfully familiar voice and slowly opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was Alex’s smiling face. He was crouched right in front of her, watching her intently.

Out of habit, during conversations with Alex, Amara rolled her eyes and slowly started to rise. She hadn’t expected the angels to have a weapon capable of harming her. And if it weren’t for the crystal Alex had given her—to allow her to restore her strength without consuming souls—the damage would have been much worse.

It also helped that she had given Dean Cain’s blade in advance. It absorbed the power of Darkness—the very energy Amara had been using to gradually regain her former strength.

Alex held out his hand to help her up. Amara calmly stood and lightly brushed the dust and dirt from her black dress.

“How’s Dean?” she asked, straightening her clothes.

“He’s fine. Your power makes him stronger. He’ll recover soon,” Alex replied, pulling out a cigarette.

“Glad to hear that. I didn’t want him to get hurt. I managed to send him back at the last moment. I didn’t expect Heaven to have a weapon like that,” Amara said, exhaling with relief.

“Well, at least you got to test your acting skills,” Alex smirked. “Though you could use a few lessons. You’re terrible at playing a corpse—or a wounded person.”

“Shut up,” Amara snapped, shooting him a deadly glare. “Not that you’re the one everyone wants to kill or lock back in a cage.”

“Hey, where did you even learn to talk like that?” Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Did Dean teach you those words? I might have to bop him on the head with a stick.”

Amara gave him a blank look that clearly said: she’d do it herself later.

Alex just laughed.

Shaking her head, Amara began absorbing the Darkness she had spread around herself while pretending to be injured. Immediately, thick black mist began to converge at her feet. The surrounding area gradually brightened until the sun finally appeared.

Castiel, nearby with Ambriel, noticed the change. Seeing the direction in which the black mist was gathering, he immediately took off running, leaving Ambriel utterly bewildered.

To be continued…

(Well, I think further on there’ll be an opportunity to get to Silent Hill, and from there to Derry. So, we’ll move on. At least I’ll try to do that and all that. I wanted to say something else, but I forgot about it; maybe I’ll remember it later, or maybe not. So, what’s next is plot and more plot, then everyday life and all that. Basically, the usual.)

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep