The Federal Bureau of Control was founded closer to the 1950s. At that time, the Bureau was not yet a large organization and was considered a relatively young federal agency. However, even then, it already had three anomalous objects under observation, containment, and research.
For a certain period, the Bureau's headquarters were located in Washington. It was officially registered as a federal agency and therefore operated under the jurisdiction of the U.S. government. The first Director of the FBC was Theodore Ash, a man who firmly believed in the existence of the esoteric and the parautilitarian. His son held the position of head of the research department, while Broderick Northmoor was one of the leading field agents at the time.
Director Ash devoted all of the Bureau's resources to the search for parautilitarian locations and objects. Over the years of his leadership, numerous anomalies were discovered—buildings and items that concealed separate dimensions within them. By tragic coincidence, random passersby often ended up inside these places, without even realizing that they had crossed the boundary of reality.
Under Ash's leadership, the Bureau's worldview was more ritualistic than scientific. The parautilitarian world was perceived as something sacred and mysterious, requiring rites and symbols rather than formulas and theories.
One day, the Bureau recorded an Altered World Event in the tunnels of the New York subway. It was then that the entrance to the Oldest House was accidentally discovered. At that moment, due to its nature, the skyscraper became "visible" to the Bureau.
After several years of investigation, the FBC decided to make the Oldest House its official headquarters. To control the constant changes in the building's structure, the Bureau began performing special rituals and establishing so-called Control Points—zones of relative stability suitable for research, containment, and bureaucratic work.
From the moment the new headquarters was established, the Federal Bureau of Control began to grow rapidly. The number of altered items and Objects of Power increased; they were studied and locked away under reliable protection so that they would never again harm the outside world.
However, the Oldest House was not the only mystery. In addition to the building itself, which existed in a separate dimension beyond time and space, the Bureau encountered entities known as the Board. The first Director to come into contact with them was already the second head of the FBC—Broderick Northmoor. Theodore Ash died under mysterious circumstances just one week before Bureau agents discovered the passage to the Oldest House in the subway tunnels.
By making contact with the Board, Broderick Northmoor gained more than just a headquarters in another dimension. Over all the subsequent years, the true nature of these beings was never definitively determined. All that scientists studying the Astral Plane—where the black pyramid controlled by the Board was located—could conclude was one thing: they were a group of invisible, godlike parautilitarian entities that existed within the Astral Plane but did not rule it entirely.
Contact with the Board granted Northmoor the ability to use the powers of altered objects and Objects of Power. Many theories existed within the Bureau regarding the motives of these entities. At first, it seemed that they were interdimensional benefactors of humanity, guiding the FBC in its fight against parautilitarian threats.
However, over time, Northmoor began to realize that one should not fully trust beings whose nature cannot be comprehended. Their true goals remained unknown.
Unfortunately, Northmoor never managed to uncover the truth. Despite being one of the most powerful parautilitarians in the Bureau's history, he ultimately lost control over his abilities. He was sealed inside the Northmoor Sarcophagus, turning him into the primary power source of the Oldest House.
When Northmoor could no longer perform the duties of Director, the Bureau faced an unexpected problem. The new Director was not chosen by the FBC itself—the appointment was made by the Board. All candidates put forward for the position failed to pass the initiation ritual and were eliminated.
It went on like this until the appearance of Zachariah Trench. He managed to pass the ritual and became the new Director of the Federal Bureau of Control. Trench held the position for many years, until a catastrophe occurred within the walls of the Oldest House.
Creatures from another dimension, known as the Hiss, invaded the building. Under their influence, Zachariah Trench took his own life.
The Hiss is an entity without a physical form, whose presence is accompanied by an intrusive sound resembling the leak of poisonous gas. The reason for their intrusion into reality was a large-scale collapse caused by Dean and Sam, who had freed Amara. This rift opened the way for a malevolent resonance whose only desire was to consume and spread, like a parasite.
The Hiss were stopped by Jesse Faden. She possessed a strong connection to a positive resonance known as Polaris. Thus, Jesse became the new Director of the Bureau — not by her own will. She came to the Oldest House with only one goal: to find her brother.
Under the leadership of the new Director, the Federal Bureau of Control began to slowly recover from the influence of the Hiss, returning to its usual work. This was especially true for the Research Department, whose workload increased many times over — after the invasion of the Hiss and the emergence of the Darkness into the world, the nature and methods of containment of which no one still fully understood.
But at the moment, the scientists in the Research Department were not studying anomalies or developing new theories. All of their attention was focused on how their Director was fighting — and one of the new agents as well.
Rumors had already spread throughout the Bureau that Director Faden had personally hired new field agents. When their names surfaced, opinions within the FBC instantly split. Two of them were the Winchester brothers, whom many considered the main reason the world repeatedly found itself on the brink of destruction. The third agent was Alex.
When it became known that Director Faden had accepted a young man, almost a teenager, into service as a field agent, nearly everyone voiced their doubts. Even the accounts of agents who had worked with Alex and personally witnessed him in action failed to convince the skeptics — they all continued to point to his age.
That was until the very moment when Ahti, the mysterious janitor, chatting with one of the agents, casually referred to Alex as the King.
No one even noticed when Alex began assisting field teams, the Research Department, and analysts, passing along information, blueprints, and guidance. And now that very group of scientists, whose workload had noticeably increased because of him, was watching Alex fight Jesse Faden in one of the specially equipped test chambers — the same ones usually used to conduct experiments on particularly dangerous altered objects.
The scientists recorded every moment of the fight in order to later analyze it frame by frame. They were especially interested in Alex's abilities, which he was demonstrating right now. Comments and hypotheses never ceased for a second — how he had obtained such power, what its source was, and why, in terms of level, he was practically on par with the Director herself.
Nearby stood Dean, Wednesday, and Enid. All three once again wondered how an ordinary visit to the Oldest House for an oral report had somehow ended with a duel between Alex and Jesse.
They watched as Alex, wreathed in light flames, ran along the wall, dodging massive chunks of concrete that Jesse hurled at him with telekinesis. Dean had previously thought Alex was joking when he talked about Jesse's strength. But now, seeing how effortlessly she dodged and immediately shifted into a counterattack, Dean was forced to reconsider his opinion.
Dodging yet another flying piece of the wall, Alex leapt over the debris, pushed off, and began running along the ceiling.
Jesse closely followed his every movement, combining her abilities. She sharply yanked her hand back and, using telekinesis, tore another fragment from the wall, while continuing to fire her service weapon in automatic mode.
The piece of wall began to deform right in midair, compressing and stretching until it turned into a stone spear.
Jesse continued firing, waiting for the right moment. And when he appeared, she hurled the spear at Alex with such force that the shockwave rippled through the room. She was sure: if Alex really was Death, it wouldn't kill him, but it should shake him up good.
Running along the ceiling and dodging the shots, Alex heard a sharp clap of air. His eyes narrowed as he saw the stone spear flying at him at monstrous speed.
Smirking, Alex jumped straight toward it. The spear passed mere millimeters from him. In the next moment, he had already landed on the floor — right in front of Jesse, clenching his fist.
Jesse reacted at the last moment, pulling stone fragments toward her and raising them as a shield. But when Alex swung for the strike… he vanished. Jesse's eyes narrowed. And in the same instant, she felt a sharp burn in the area just below her back, accompanied by a loud pop.
For a moment, caught off guard, Jesse lost concentration, and her powers dissipated. Behind the stone shield, the observers couldn't see exactly what had happened. They only noticed a stunned Jesse — and Alex standing behind her.
"I win. Hooray," said Alex, giving a thumbs-up.
"Are you sure you didn't mix anything up?" Jesse asked, slowly turning toward him.
"Seems not. Or would you prefer I pat you… instead of slapping?" Alex asked innocently.
"I'll 'pat' you myself," Jesse said, stepping forward, clearly intending to strike Alex in the groin.
Alex deftly dodged and, unable to hold back, burst into laughter, sprinting away.
Gritting her teeth in anger, Jesse activated one of her abilities and lunged after him. Her surge was so powerful that the surrounding debris instantly turned to dust, and the already heavily damaged test chamber began crumbling even more.
The observers behind the protective glass didn't immediately grasp what had happened — or why Jesse had suddenly erupted in such fury. She looked like she could kill with a single glance. The scientists, however, were more interested in the scale of destruction left after the sparring match between Alex and the Director.
Alex continued laughing, evading Jesse, who was literally chasing him on his heels. Several times she was just a step away from grabbing him, but Alex always managed to twist away at the last moment.
In the end, the chase ended with nothing.
After a while, everyone moved to the Research Department cafeteria — to have some coffee and catch their breath, leaving the scientists to sort through and analyze the fresh data. As Alex left the test chamber in the company of a still-annoyed Jesse, the staff watched him with the same intensity as if he were a new research subject. Alex calmly ignored it.
Sitting in the cafeteria and sipping coffee, he held his phone in his hands, half-listening to Enid enthusiastically praising Jesse's abilities. Jesse responded with a faint smile.
Dean, sitting next to Alex and devouring a sandwich, glanced at his phone screen — it had switched back to work mode.
"Dude, you're working again? Ever heard of the word 'rest'?" Dean asked, lightly nudging Alex in the side with his elbow.
"As long as we're in the Oldest House, I need to wrap up a few things," Alex replied, reaching out his hand. "When we get back to the Bunker, there will be even more work. I have to get it all done."
Jesse looked up at him and raised an eyebrow questioningly. Wednesday tore her eyes away from her book and also looked at Alex. Even Enid was flustered, not understanding why he was reaching into empty space.
The answer came quickly.
A staff member in a short-sleeved white shirt with an "Intern" badge around his neck ran toward them, holding a capsule to his chest. Reaching Alex, he quickly placed it into his hand. Alex nodded in thanks, and the intern immediately dashed off to carry out the next task.
Alex opened the capsule and pulled out the documents. As he scanned the lines, he tapped his finger on the table and gradually frowned more and more.
The reports contained all the data he had requested: observations from three cities, one of which was Silent Hill.
Reading, Alex struggled to ignore the feeling of a piercing gaze emanating from The Board. He knew perfectly well: if he made contact with them, those ethereal bastards would immediately heap even more work on him. Alex didn't need that.
He had no intention of becoming the FBC Director anytime soon or taking on an extra burden that they probably couldn't pay him for… unless he were given the entire Oldest House to rule.
"So, what's in there?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I sent three operational teams to monitor changes in Silent Hill, Shepherds Glen, and Ashfield," Alex said, dropping the documents onto the table. "And apparently, someone's getting paid for nothing. Is it really that hard to follow a simple order?"
"You do realize that I'm technically the Director, right?" Jesse remarked calmly.
"Want to handle it yourself? I don't mind," Alex shrugged, nudging the folder toward her. "Then I'll just pretend to work. Stop being a consultant, stop helping the Research Department and the Investigation Department… and remain an off-duty field agent."
"No, thanks," Jesse said with a smirk, pushing the documents back. "I've got enough on my plate already. So what exactly did you have the agents do in these cities?"
"To have this bunch of idiots gather all possible information," Alex replied, flipping through the report pages. "I need to know the exact moment a trigger activates in these places and sets off a chain of events."
"What trigger?" Enid asked, tilting her head slightly.
"A trigger is what sets the gears of fate in motion," Alex said, nodding toward Dean. "For example, Dean and Sam. They were destined to start the Apocalypse."
Jesse, Wednesday, and Enid all looked at Dean. His face immediately darkened.
Even now, after all this time, the realization that he was the one who had broken the first seal and set the Apocalypse in motion continued to eat away at him from the inside. Yes, they had stopped the end of the world — but the cost had been too high. Lost friends, ruined fates… and Sam.
Sam, trapped in the same cell as Lucifer.
What his brother had gone through had left a deep mark. Sometimes Sam couldn't tell reality from illusion, genuinely believing he was still in the Cage and that everything happening around him was just another way for Lucifer to break him completely. Watching this, Dean felt helpless and guilty.
"Alex, let's not dig into that," he said, looking at Alex without anger, but also without any emotion.
"Sorry," Alex replied calmly. "I'm just giving an example."
He tapped his finger lightly on the table.
"The same goes for Wednesday. Her arrival at Nevermore set off a chain of events that still led her to the inner courtyard of the academy — face to face with Joseph Crakstone."
Alex shifted his gaze to Jesse.
"And you were a trigger too. You happened to be at the Bureau the exact moment The Hiss invasion began. It's all—gears of fate. What's meant to happen will happen. The question is whether we can rewrite the ending. Like Dean and Sam did."
"So, Mr. Death," Dean said in a steady tone, "who are the triggers for these three cities?"
"I asked those idiots to watch three people," Alex replied wearily, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Harry Mason and his daughter Cheryl. Henry Townsend. And Alex Shepherd."
He lifted his gaze.
"If any of them ends up in the right place, a chain of events will start with two possible endings."
"I'll send additional teams," Jesse said seriously. "If you're saying this as Death, then we should avoid it if possible."
Alex shook his head.
"It's impossible to avoid. Harry and Cheryl will end up in Silent Hill anyway — the town calls to Cheryl. Henry will inevitably be in apartment 302 at South Ashfield Heights and become part of Walter Sullivan's ritual. Alex Shepherd will return to Shepherds Glen regardless."
He sighed.
"As Death — my hands are tied. But as an agent… I can steer events toward the least tragic outcome."
"My head already hurts from what you're saying," Dean grumbled. "All I get is: the shit's going to hit the fan anyway, and our job is to make it hit as little as possible."
"You're basically right," Alex nodded. "INTERN!"
His voice echoed through the cafeteria, and everyone immediately turned. A moment later, the intern was running across the room — looking as if his life depended on his speed. Reaching Alex, he tried to straighten up and hide his heavy breathing, doing his best to look dignified.
Alex quickly scribbled the names and brief instructions on a napkin and handed it to the intern. He just glanced at the list — and immediately dashed off again.
Watching this, Alex smirked.
Jesse looked at him thoughtfully, increasingly understanding why Alex acted as if he were in charge here. The reason was simple: he was far too used to giving orders, directing others, and taking responsibility. In places like this, it came naturally — like second nature.
"It's nice to have useful minions carrying everything you need," Alex said with a slight smile.
"True," Wednesday nodded calmly. "A helpful minion significantly reduces the amount of dirty work."
"Poor guy," Dean shook his head. "If you worked here full-time, you'd run him to death."
"No need to pity him," Wednesday replied unflinchingly. "He chose this job himself. If he doesn't prove his competence, he'll remain a boy running errands."
"Wednesday, that's not fair either…" Enid said cautiously.
"'Intern' is just a veiled title for the same position," Wednesday explained calmly, turning to meet her gaze. "I'm just calling things by their proper names."
"You two are clearly on the same wavelength," Jesse noted, shifting her gaze from Wednesday to Alex.
"Yeah," Dean smirked. "Those two are the kind of bosses who'll squeeze everything out of their subordinates, even if they die of exhaustion."
"If a subordinate doesn't need sleep, that means he can work more," Alex said philosophically, giving a thumbs-up.
"Why am I even explaining this…" Dean muttered, shaking his head wearily.
Alex just laughed in response.
Ten minutes later, the intern returned, barely managing to hold a whole stack of folders. Alex gave a brief nod and gestured him off. Watching Alex literally wave off the intern, Dean just shook his head tiredly.
Alex opened the first folder and quickly flipped through the pages. It was the personal dossier of Harry Mason and his daughter Cheryl. He had requested the materials only to cross-check them with what he already knew about the family. Once he confirmed everything matched, Alex set the folder aside and picked up the next one.
Folder after folder — Alex read carefully, occasionally nodding, satisfied with the level of detail in the information.
Jesse grabbed one of the folders Alex had set aside and, flipping through the pages, came across materials about the Order that had appeared in Silent Hill. What she read quickly made it clear why Alex was so intent on preventing their plans — they already had enough problems on their hands.
Wednesday took the folder containing the dossier of the serial killer Walter Sullivan — something she had read about back in her childhood.
"Alright, that's enough for today. Time to head home," Alex said, carefully stacking the documents. "Everything I needed to do at the Bureau is done. Now it's time to get back to other problems."
"Leaving already?" Jesse raised an eyebrow.
"Looks like it. If something new comes up, I'll let you know. For now, we're clear," Alex replied, shaking his head.
"Then see you later, idiot," Jesse smirked.
"Oh, screw off, redhead," Alex rolled his eyes.
"Either you two kiss already, or we're leaving," Dean interjected. "Enough melodrama."
Alex just gave him a blank look.
The next second, Jesse used telekinesis to flick a crumpled paper ball at Dean, Wednesday kicked him in the leg, and Enid looked at him with undisguised disappointment.
Taking fire on all fronts, Dean grumbled irritably, got up from the table, and headed for the exit first.
Chuckling, Alex said goodbye to Jesse once more and, taking Enid and Wednesday by the hands, followed Dean, who was already heading up the stairs. Catching up to him, the whole group moved toward the elevator.
After reaching the main hall, they stepped outside. Once outdoors, Alex cast a final glance at the Oldest House, knowing that sooner or later he would return here anyway.
Crossing the street, they got into the Impala. Dean immediately started the engine, and the car smoothly pulled away. Their next stop was the Bunker.
"Did we finish everything? I didn't forget anything, did I?" Alex muttered, leaning back in his seat.
"No, man. You got everything done. Including flirting with Jesse," Dean said, turning on the music.
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Alex snorted. "So now we need to deal with Sam's visions. Alice wrote that they've been happening more often. And they're all connected to the Cage."
He stuck his hand out the window, letting the wind brush against his palm.
At those words, Dean frowned again. He still considered Sam's visions complete nonsense. No matter how you looked at it, Dean was convinced that God simply didn't give a damn about this world, since after Amara's release He hadn't done a single thing.
Dean didn't feel personal hatred toward Amara, but he understood perfectly well that the problem had to be dealt with. No one knew when she would finally lose control and destroy everything around her. Even though she no longer devoured souls, people were still dying — especially priests. And Dean knew that, because he kept an eye on the news. Alex's phone helped a lot with that, by the way.
Enid and Wednesday looked at Dean. He frowned again at the mention of the Cage — and both of them knew who was inside it.
"Alex, I hope you don't think that bastard in the Cage can actually help us," Dean said. "You're Death. You should know something."
"I wish I could say no," Alex replied, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "But unfortunately, that idiot might be useful. Lucifer could have information on how to defeat Amara. Or at least how to contain her."
"Don't you know that for sure?" Dean asked, turning his head toward Alex.
"Dean, the fact that I'm Death doesn't make me omniscient. Lucifer was the first bearer of the seal from Amara's Cage. He has to know a way. Which means we'll have to pay him a visit," Alex said, propping his cheek on his fist.
"I still think this plan sucks," Dean grumbled.
"We don't have much of a choice. As Death, my hands are partly tied. But that doesn't mean we can't beat the living crap out of him if he doesn't feel like talking," Alex smiled slightly. "And don't forget — you've got plenty of power now. So the conversation might turn out… very pleasant."
"Now that's how you should've started," Dean bared his teeth in a grin. "I wanted to punch him last time, too. And this time, I won't miss the chance."
"You'll get your chance. For now — speed up," Alex said, sticking his hand out the window again. "I'm not going to spend a whole day rattling around in a car on the way to Lebanon. So… a few little tricks of Death. Hold on tight."
Before anyone had time to understand what was happening, Alex slapped his palm against the roof of the Impala.
In the very next instant, the car vanished from the road — only to reappear in a completely different place.
The sudden teleportation made Dean jerk the steering wheel, and the Impala nearly flew off the highway. He quickly corrected the car, cursed angrily, and then noticed familiar landmarks.
"Damn…" he muttered. "We're a couple of kilometers from the Bunker."
Enid immediately covered her mouth with her hand — the sudden shift made her nauseous.
Wednesday, on the other hand, gripped the handhold tightly. She quickly figured out what had happened and simply waited it out in silence.
"Dude, give some warning next time," Dean said irritably. "I almost wrecked my baby."
"But now we're almost home," Alex replied cheerfully.
Dean just snorted, deciding not to continue the argument. To be honest, he didn't really want to spend an entire day rattling along the road to Kansas either.
Pulling up to the Bunker, he immediately turned into the underground parking area.
Wednesday and Enid stepped out of the Impala and looked around. They found themselves in a spacious garage, where old vintage cars stood in neat rows — well cared for, like museum exhibits.
"Ah, home sweet home…" Dean drawled, heading inside. "Now I can grab a beer."
Alex only shook his head and gestured for Wednesday and Enid to follow him.
As they walked through the corridors, the girls carefully took in their surroundings. This place would now be their home. Alex explained on the go what was where and what each area was used for.
Entering the main hall — the Bunker's spacious work area — Alex saw Lucina, Alice, and Samantha.
The moment Alice noticed him, she practically bolted. In the blink of an eye, she was at his side, jumped up, grabbed him by the collar, and kissed him on the lips. They hadn't seen each other for almost a month, and she had clearly missed him.
Pulling back, Alice immediately hugged Enid. Enid froze for a moment, then broke into a wide smile and hugged her back, already feeling that a friendship would quickly form between them.
Lucina approached more calmly. Rising onto her toes, she gave Alex a quick kiss on the lips, then looked at Wednesday and gave her a slight nod.
Wednesday returned the nod just as reservedly.
Samantha came last. She wrapped Alex in a tight hug and kissed him on the lips as well.
Alex quickly introduced everyone and immediately began searching the room for Sam. Alice noticed and instantly pointed out where he was.
Nodding, Alex asked the girls to give Wednesday and Enid a short tour of the Bunker and, at the same time, introduce them to everyone else.
Leaving the main hall, Alex headed for the kitchen. As he got closer, he could already hear yet another argument between the brothers.
"Dean, can you repeat what you just said?" Sam asked, staring at his brother, who was casually opening a bottle of beer.
"I'm saying we've got new additions," Dean replied calmly, taking a sip. "Garth's niece and a girl with the ability to see visions by touching people and objects. What exactly did you miss?"
"Why the hell did you bring them here?!" Sam snapped. "Our job is dangerous enough as it is, and you dragged two teenagers into this!"
"I wouldn't say they can't take care of themselves," Dean shrugged. "I've seen Enid turn a monster's head into a bloody mess with her bare hands. And Wednesday… well, how should I put it…"
"Unusual and ruthless," Alex's voice came from the kitchen doorway.
"Yeah, exactly," Dean nodded. "Those two can handle themselves. And they'd probably give you a head start too, Sam."
Sam looked at both of them with suspicion. The two of them had vanished for almost a month, only calling from time to time, and now they were back—bringing two girls with them. With a smug grin, Dean started explaining exactly what connected Alex, Wednesday, and Enid.
Sam looked at Alex as if the world's biggest idiot were standing right in front of him. Ignoring the look, Alex walked over to the fridge, took out two bottles of beer, and set one down in front of Sam. Then he sat at the table, popped the bottle open with his hand, took a sip, and lazily stretched out his legs.
"And that's not all the news," Dean said with a grin, nodding toward Alex. "Don't you notice anything, Sam?"
"And what exactly am I supposed to notice?" Sam asked gloomily, looking at Alex.
"Our little guy became Death," Dean said with a smirk.
Sam was already about to argue when he noticed the ring of Death on Alex's finger. His eyes immediately widened. Sam slowly shifted his gaze to Dean. Dean silently nodded.
After that, Sam looked back at Alex. Without changing his expression, Alex summoned Death's scythe into his hand—just for a moment—and immediately dismissed it, taking another sip of beer as if nothing unusual had happened.
It felt like something short-circuited in Sam's head. He stared at what was happening, trying to comprehend what he had just seen and how it was even possible. Noticing his confusion, Dean smirked and patted his brother on the shoulder. He understood that state perfectly—he'd gone through the exact same thing himself.
Calmly, without unnecessary emotion, Alex once again retold his half-true story about how he got the ring and became Death. Sam listened carefully, nodding from time to time.
"So that means… you know how we can defeat Amara?" he finally asked.
"Don't even ask," Dean immediately cut in with an empty expression. "All you'll hear is nonsense about balance, destiny, and other philosophical crap. I've been listening to it for days. There's no straight answer."
"Pretty much, Samuel," Alex confirmed with a shrug. "Don't expect any hints from me. I don't know a damn thing myself. All this ring gave me was a ton of work and a headache."
He took another sip of beer and added:
"But if one of you two happens to kick the bucket a bit ahead of schedule—then yeah, I can help with that."
"Oh, how noble of you, Lord Death," Dean said with exaggerated pomp and set another bottle of beer in front of Alex. "Allow me to offer you a drink."
"Yeah, thanks," Alex nodded, opening the second bottle. "Alright. Now let's get to what really matters. What's going on with your visions, Sam?"
"I already told you," Sam sighed heavily. "As soon as I start calling out to God, the visions begin. When I asked how we're supposed to deal with the Darkness, they became clearer."
He fell silent for a moment.
"I saw myself in a cage…"
"Locked in a cage with a monster," Dean cut him off sharply. "In the same cage with the biggest bastard. Need me to remind you what he did to you?"
"I remember perfectly well, Dean," Sam replied firmly. "But Lucifer was the lesser evil… until we released something even more dangerous into the world."
He slammed his palm on the table.
"Listen to me. In the vision, Lucifer touched me—and I felt peace. A kind of peace I've never felt before. I couldn't have made it up myself."
"Sam, do you want me to bring a doll so you can show us where Lucifer touched you?" Alex said with disgust.
"Dude…" Dean grimaced. "That even sounds wrong."
"You're both joking at the wrong time," Sam said coldly, clenching his fists. "We have far more serious problems."
"Alright, fine," Dean sighed, setting his bottle aside. "Then tell me—what made you think these visions are from God? What makes you so sure it's Him?"
"Amara appears to you in your dreams," Sam answered. "And to me… I saw a burning bush."
He exhaled wearily.
Alex was silent for a few seconds, then calmly said,
"Sam, listen. Your situation and Dean's situation are different. Dean and Amara are still connected."
He leaned forward slightly.
"And I don't want to end this conversation on a bad note, but Dean and I need rest. Jericho was a nightmare—we can't even explain everything in one evening. We were blown up, chased a Darkness-possessed monster, dealt with a woman driven by revenge and that same Darkness… and found out too many unpleasant things."
Alex interlaced his fingers.
"Let's just rest tonight. Tomorrow, we'll return to your visions. If necessary, we can go to the Cage and have a chat with Lucifer. Agreed?"
Sam looked at Dean. Dean nodded and began recounting what they had faced in Jericho. Within the first few minutes, Sam realized that the two of them really had been working themselves to the limit.
He sighed heavily and nodded, deciding to postpone the conversation about the visions until tomorrow. Then he became genuinely curious about what Alex and Dean had gone through. They told everything—including the hospital.
They had agreed beforehand not to mention that Dean could use Amara's blessing.
While the conversation continued, the girls returned to the kitchen. Seeing Alex, Dean, and Sam with beer, they only asked for Wednesday's and Enid's suitcases.
Without question, Alex pulled them from his inventory. Sam, noticing the new members of their unusual little family—especially the living hand—slowly looked at Dean and Alex.
The look clearly asked the silent question: What the hell?
Dean just smirked and shrugged, making it clear that no one knew why the Thing was alive or how it moved at all. When he reminded Sam that Enid was Garth's niece, Sam was even more surprised than by the living hand.
After a while, Castiel joined them. He listened with interest to the story of Alex and Dean's adventures, while also delivering items from the Bunker that Alex needed.
Of course, Dean didn't forget to tell them about the Eldest House and what it looked like inside.
Alex, Dean, Sam, and Castiel sat late into the night, just talking, sipping beer, and snacking. Alex was glad to be back. In this house. And he didn't hide the smile on his face at all.
To be continued…
(I tried to show as much as possible without dragging it out too long. So, what's next? Visits to Hell, meeting Crowley, and all that jazz. I think after all that, we'll move on to Silent Hill, then from there to Derry, and then to Britain. I'm still thinking about what happens in between. But I'll come up with something to break up the plot with some simple, everyday stuff. Oh well.)
(By the time you read this, some of you will already be in 2026. But it will still be 7 p.m. for me, cooking for the holiday table. As a child, I believed that New Year's was a time of miracles. And even at this age, I still want to believe it, but every time life hits me with a stick called reality. But even so, I want every day of yours to be filled with miracles. After all, my story has united us, people from different places, cities, and even countries. What is that if not a miracle? And so, in the coming New Year, my dear readers, I want your lives to be filled with even a small part of a miracle. Even if it's a minor miracle, it will be there for you. We've spent another year together, and I look forward to spending another. May your loved ones be healthy this coming year, and may your wishes come true. You've all been by my side all this time, and so I wish you a happy New Year with those you love. Happy New Year, my dear and beloved readers, with best wishes from your best friend and most beloved author, Greed.)
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