While Saga and Alex were busy searching for clues — where to find the Clicker and how to end the nightly nightmare created by the writer Alan Wake — everything in Bright Falls remained relatively calm. But it was only the calm before the storm. The story hadn't yet reached its critical point, and it was only a matter of time before the town was once again swallowed by darkness.
Meanwhile, Alan Wake himself, along with Casey and Emmet, were at the Elderwood Palace Motel, waiting for Saga and Alex to return. Casey and Emmet stayed alert — before leaving, Alex had warned them that members of the Cult of the Tree might come after Alan, believing that his death would put an end to the nightmare looming over Bright Falls.
The three of them were in the conference room, which Saga and Casey had turned into a temporary base of operations. Emmet stood by the window, leaning his shoulder against the wooden frame, watching the street. Thanks to his vampiric nature, he could sense even the slightest movement around — he heard footsteps, breathing, even the heartbeat of those unseen.
Casey sat at the table across from Alan, his fingers interlocked. His questions, as usual, revolved around the books written by Wake, where detective Alex Casey served as a literary reflection of himself.
"Every time I introduce myself, people don't think of me — they think of you and your books," Casey said in his raspy, calm voice, looking directly into the writer's eyes. "I've read them, you know. Feels like someone was spying on my life and decided to write a series of novels based on it. And tell me, Alan Wake — how am I supposed to react to that? Be happy? Or flattered that my life became your inspiration?"
"For example, you could ask for money," Emmet said lazily without taking his eyes off the window, arms crossed over his chest.
Casey turned his gaze toward him. His face showed no emotion, no irritation — just an empty, evaluating look. Emmet, on the other hand, looked completely serious: in his opinion, if Casey had become the prototype for a character, then why not demand royalties? The books were already written, nothing could be changed — so it was easier to accept it and get something out of it.
Casey shook his head and looked back at Alan, who remained silent, as if he didn't know what to say.He hadn't expected that his novels could affect someone's life so profoundly… or that the real FBI agent Alex Casey would turn out to be an exact copy of his fictional counterpart.
The silence was broken only by the quiet hum of the air conditioner. Seeing that the writer stubbornly refused to speak, Casey sighed heavily, got up from the table, and went to the coffee machine. While he poured the coffee, the room was filled with a tense stillness, mixed with the smell of roasted beans and exhaustion. When he returned, Casey set one cup down in front of Alan.
"Thanks," Alan said quietly, rubbing his temples as if trying to ease the headache that kept returning.
"Don't mention it," Casey replied, taking a sip. "Since you don't want to talk about the books, let's get to business. How sure are you that your legendary Clicker can actually end all of this?"
"It should work," Alan said slowly, staring into his cup. "Last time, I managed to seal the Dark Presence. The main thing is to keep the Clicker out of Scratch's hands. If that happens… there'll be no turning back."
"And what then?" Emmet asked, raising an eyebrow with interest. "You said he could rewrite your book. But how can a simple trinket give him that kind of power?"
"I… don't know how to explain it properly," Alan said, shaking his head as anxiety grew inside him.
"Then explain however you can," Casey said, leaning back in his chair. "According to Agent Voldigoad — the one who pulled you out — you and Scratch faced each other in the Dark Place. Before leaving, he said Scratch would still find a way out because it was written that way. Do you remember anything? We need to know when exactly your double will break free."
As soon as Casey finished his question, Alan was hit by another wave of pain.He grabbed his head, barely managing to catch the edge of the table to keep from falling. Emmet immediately rushed over to help him sit back down, holding him so he wouldn't collapse to the floor.
Alan sat clutching his temples, feeling as if the throbbing pain was splitting his skull apart. At that moment, memories began to flood back one after another, as if someone had torn down a dam in his mind. He remembered the final moments in the Dark Place — the distorted streets of New York, the hum of neon signs, the frantic running through empty alleys, and how Scratch pursued him relentlessly, always drawing closer.
Alan remembered rushing toward the hotel — the only safe place left. Just as Scratch was about to catch him, someone suddenly grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. That someone was Alex.
As the memories grew clearer, Alan began recounting everything he saw to Emmet and Casey: how Alex had opened passages to other Folds, saving them from Scratch; how they ended up in the apartment where Alan once lived with his wife; and how Scratch appeared again.
When Wake reached that part of the story, Casey, who had been taking notes, suddenly stopped. His hand trembled, and his gaze turned wary. Emmet, on the other hand, smirked as he listened.
Alan told them how Alex fought Scratch — and eventually threw him out the window.
When the writer finished, Casey slowly put down his pen and looked at Alan with a calm but skeptical stare. Emmet was already struggling not to laugh, regretting that he hadn't seen it himself.
"So, according to you, Agent Voldigoad basically smeared your evil twin across the wall," Casey said coldly. "The same twin who serves the Dark Presence and can control the darkness itself. And Agent Voldigoad just beat him up and tossed him out a window? Did I get that right? Or are your memories still a mess?"
"That's right," Alan nodded, finally feeling the pain begin to fade.
"Hahaha! I'm not even surprised he did that," Emmet burst out laughing, unable to hold it in anymore.
"What do you mean, you're not surprised? Is that normal for your partner?" Casey asked, turning toward him.
"How should I put it..." Emmet said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Alex's motto is simple — if a fight starts, hit first. The guy's got a freakish talent for combat. Once, he used an ordinary brick to take on an armed gang. And guess what? He took them all down. With just that damn brick."
"You've got to be joking. He's human. How could he take on an armed gang with a brick?" Casey frowned, clearly doubting his words.
"I wouldn't call him human," Emmet replied calmly. "He's a damn monster. Usually, he's kind, carefree, even gives good advice sometimes. But when he snaps... I wouldn't want to be on the other side. When I was young, I was nearly killed by a bear. But even then, I wasn't as terrified as the day I saw Alex in action."
He shook his head, pausing for a moment as if recalling that memory.
Casey frowned deeper. Emmet's words only raised more suspicion. He didn't understand who exactly Alex and Emmet worked for — or what kind of organization they belonged to. They acted like people who knew exactly what they were doing, as if they had already dealt with things far beyond human comprehension.
And no matter how hard Casey tried to accept what he heard, it was difficult to believe that the easygoing guy Alex appeared to be could actually be a monster.
He was about to ask another question when Alan suddenly screamed again.
A new wave of pain hit him so hard that he fell from his chair to the floor. Grabbing his head with both hands, Alan writhed in agony, groaning and repeating the same words over and over: He's coming.
"Wake! Damn it, wake up! Who's coming?! Who are you talking about?!" Casey shouted, trying to snap him out of it.
"Scratch... he's coming... he's close... I can feel him... he's coming for me... he wants me..." Alan rasped before losing consciousness.
Casey and Emmet exchanged glances.
For the first time, Casey felt genuine fear. He had no idea how to fight something like Scratch — a herald of the Dark Presence itself. Emmet understood it too. His vampiric strength wouldn't help here. This wasn't a man or a monster. It was darkness itself.
Before they could discuss anything, screams and gunfire erupted outside. Through the quiet of the evening came a distorted, furious voice.
"We need to run," Emmet said sharply, throwing Alan's body over his shoulder. "There's nothing we can do against Scratch. Grab whatever you can use — flashlights, flares, everything!"
"Where are we going? You think we can escape?" Casey asked, getting up from the floor and hurriedly stuffing things into his bag.
"I don't know," Emmet replied shortly, moving to the window. "But I'm not sticking around to deal with whatever's happening out there. From the sound of it, the Tree Cult members have clashed with Scratch. I don't want to sound like a heartless bastard... but we need to get out. Now."
Casey, as an FBI agent, was torn — help people or save himself, knowing they stood no chance against Scratch anyway. But the screams and gunfire outside were fading fast, meaning their time was almost up.
Casey quickly packed whatever could come in handy. Emmet threw the window open, slung Alan more securely over his shoulder, and jumped out. Casey followed, glancing back only for a split second. At that very moment, Scratch entered the conference room — drenched in blood from head to toe, surrounded by a thick, swirling black fog.
Without hesitation, Casey lit a flare and hurled it toward Scratch, hoping it would at least slow him down. Thankfully, it did — if only briefly. Scratch staggered, just for a moment. Casey turned and sprinted after Emmet, who had already disappeared into the depths of the forest.
Emmet ran with astonishing speed, not letting Casey fall behind, silently cursing Alex for not leaving behind anything useful to stop Scratch. Thus began the chase: Emmet carrying Alan on his shoulder, and Casey running beside him, while Scratch pursued them — sending a horde of Taken after them, the mutilated, reanimated members of the Tree Cult.
Meanwhile, Alex and Saga were still inside the Fold. Alex had no idea that his insane plan — to seal all the doors between the Folds except one — had allowed Scratch to escape prematurely. Now Scratch was already on a rampage, hunting Alan Wake.
Alex and Saga were preoccupied with their own battle: fighting off a pack of Taken wolves that had lunged at them all at once. Illuminated by the red glow of a flare, they took down the attackers one by one. After a long firefight, Saga was breathing heavily as she reloaded her pistol, while Alex holstered Ebony and Ivory and crouched beside one of the dead wolves. He was curious whether their bodies had changed from the inside after being consumed by Darkness.
"Not to distract you," Saga said, straightening up and glancing at Alex, "but I've got a question."
"Yeah? What is it, Saga?" he replied calmly, turning to her.
"Could it be that this huge pack of Taken wolves attacked us because of what you did to the Dark Place?" she asked, raising the burning flare.
"Theoretically... yes. The doors connecting the Folds are closed and yet... not quite," Alex said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.
"And what's that supposed to mean? You said you sealed all the doors except one — the one at the bottom of Cauldron Lake. Or am I wrong?" Saga asked, staring at him intently.
"No, you're not wrong. It's just... every door has a crack. And it seems the wolves managed to slip through those cracks. I think that answer will have to do," Alex said, rising to his feet.
Saga nodded, accepting the explanation.
They moved forward along the only path available — there were no others. Saga carried the flare in her hand, lighting the way through the distorted, nightmarish forest. From time to time, the warped voices of Mulligan and Thornton echoed from the trees, but Alex and Saga ignored them. They had to reach the end of the Fold and retrieve the Clicker that Thornton and Mulligan had taken.
Soon, from somewhere in the distance, they heard a child's voice crying for help. Saga tensed instantly — she recognized her daughter's voice. Her hand trembled, and her maternal instinct took over. She wanted to run toward the sound, but Alex stopped her just in time, reminding her where they were. Logan couldn't be here.
Saga took a deep breath and clenched her teeth, repeating in her mind like a mantra: "Don't believe what you hear. Don't believe what you see."
With every passing minute, Logan's cries grew more desperate, stirring pity and doubt within Saga. The Dark Presence went further — it began to use Logan's very image to finally break her will. And it almost succeeded, if not for Alex, who once again stopped Saga from making the reckless decision to rush into the forest to save a daughter who wasn't really there.
"Mom! Why didn't you save me when I was drowning? Why did you leave me, Mom?!" the voice cried from all directions.
"Shut up!" Saga snapped. "You're not my daughter! My daughter is at home... with my husband!"
"Ahhh! Mom, help me! They've got me!" the child's voice screamed, filled with even greater despair.
At that moment, along with Logan's cry, came the distorted laughter of Mulligan and Thornton. They mocked Saga cruelly, reminding her that she hadn't saved her daughter — that they would take her away again.
That was the final straw. Saga's emotions overpowered her reason. She clenched her fists, threw the burning flare aside, and, without thinking, dashed toward her daughter's voice.
Alex rolled his eyes in irritation and hurried after her. Saga ran tirelessly, driven by the voice, ignoring every warning bell ringing in her mind telling her — it's not Logan. But a mother's heart doesn't listen to logic.
When the voice sounded close, Saga saw a horrifying sight before her: Mulligan and Thornton, their faces twisted with grotesque grins, were throwing Logan into a well. For a moment, her heart stopped, her mind drowned in despair.
The Darkness, sensing her weakness, began to close in from all sides. But Alex reacted just in time — he lit a flare right at Saga's feet, and the light pushed back the black shroud. Thornton and Mulligan smirked wickedly before dissolving into the thick darkness.
"She'll be ours anyway... She'll become one of us," they said in unison, their voices sounding like distorted radio static, before vanishing completely into the void.
Alex only rolled his eyes at the cliché lines of these second-rate villains and turned his gaze to Saga. She was still standing there, staring at the well with a hollow, broken look. Alex sighed heavily, stepped closer, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder, casting a spell of mental calm.
As the magic took effect, Saga's breathing slowed. Her thoughts began to clear. Even though she knew what she saw wasn't real, the vision of Logan being thrown into the well tore at her heart. That was exactly what the Dark Presence wanted.
Gradually, as her mind returned to her, Saga wiped the tears from her cheeks and rose from the cold ground.
"Thank you... I just..." she whispered, guilt heavy in her voice for nearly losing control.
"No need to apologize," Alex said calmly. "I understand how you feel. Even if that wasn't your daughter — a mother's heart can't stand by and watch a child being thrown into the abyss. But if you'd given in... the Darkness would have consumed you completely. That would've been game over."
He looked her straight in the eyes, his voice firm.
"Those creatures know how to break human hearts. If they have to, they'll show you Logan's death again and again... until your mind shatters. But remember this: where there's darkness, there's always light to drive it away. That light is called hope."
Alex smiled.
"Hope always lives in the hearts of the living. And as long as it does — nothing is ever truly over. No matter how dark the day gets, there's always a chance to see a brighter tomorrow. Now... let me show you that light."
"What do you mean?" Saga asked, lifting her gaze to him.
"Watch closely. And don't blink," Alex replied with a wide grin. "You only get to see this kind of thing once in a lifetime."
He raised his hands to chest level. His palms were parallel — one facing up, the other down. A faint, soft light began to gather between them. A satisfied smile appeared on Alex's face.
A small orb of light grew brighter and brighter, but it didn't blind — on the contrary, it radiated warmth and calm. Saga watched, mesmerized, as the glow intensified. The ground under their feet trembled, cracks spidered across the earth, and thin beams of light burst out from them.
"Wanna play dirty?" Alex said, a hint of challenge in his voice. "Fine. I'll play by your rules too."
He threw his head back and shouted:
"Let light of hope descend into this world of darkness and despair. Let the Fairy Law be fulfilled!"
He clapped his hands.
The sky flared. A huge golden magic circle, inscribed with ancient runes, opened above them, and in its center shone the symbol of the Fairy. Light poured over everything, driving away the darkness.
Saga looked up and froze. What was happening felt so unreal that she thought she might be under the Dark Presence's influence again.
Then, along with the circle's appearance, a powerful explosion of light rang out. All the darkness dispersed, and the Fold itself began to collapse. The Dark Presence shrieked — a piercing, almost inhuman scream of pain — the light searing its domain.
All the Taken, including Thornton and Mulligan, turned to ash, unable to withstand the power of the light.
Meanwhile, the girls from Alex's family watching the stream hurriedly put on sunglasses — the light was so bright it dazzled even through screens.
Saga covered her face with her hands, feeling a warm stream of light wash over her body, pushing the remnants of darkness out of her heart. When the glow faded, she lowered her hand and looked around.
Now she was sitting by the well — the very one through which she and Alex had entered the Fold. The Clicker lay in her hand, the thing for which all this had started.
Saga was in such a state of shock she couldn't comprehend what had happened. Chaos reigned in her head; thoughts tangled, refusing to obey logic. Everything she had just seen seemed absurd, beyond normal reality.
She could accept the existence of the Dark Presence — an entity capable of turning fictional stories into reality. She could accept much of what had happened in Bright Falls these past two days. But what she had just witnessed didn't fit into her mind.
Sitting on the wet ground, Saga stared blankly at the Clicker in her palm. The image of the huge golden magic circle and the blinding light ripping out of the depths of darkness still burned behind her eyes.
A lighter clicked. Saga turned her head and saw Alex — standing calmly, drawing on a cigarette, with that same carefree expression as if he'd just returned from a walk. Dusk was falling in the real world — the day was ending, even though only about an hour had passed inside the Fold.
Hearing movement beside her, Alex looked at Saga and gave a slight smile.
"Who… who are you? And what was that just now?" she asked, her voice trembling with confusion.
"Does it matter who I am, Saga?" Alex answered calmly. "What you saw was the light of hope. A light that burns even in the darkest night. Even when it seems that all is lost."
"Looks like you're not going to tell me who you really are," Saga said quietly, rising and brushing the dirt off her clothes.
"There's no need. I am who I am, and no one else," Alex said with a faint smile. "We've got the Clicker, so it's time to head back. I've got a bad feeling… like we missed something. And I don't like that at all."
"You think that while we were finding the Clicker, Scratch might have reached Alan?" Saga asked warily, catching his hint.
"He should have," Alex said, frowning. "Wake wrote it himself. When I meet the real Alan Wake — I'll give him a piece of my mind."
"Add me in too," Saga said, nodding with irritation. "I still can't get over the fact that he turned me into a character in his book."
Alex smirked and nodded approvingly.
They left the "World of Coffee" park and looked around — the fog that had once thickly blanketed the area had completely vanished. The presence of the Dark Entity was gone, at least within Watery.
Moving quickly, they followed the paved road toward the bridge that had previously been destroyed and submerged.
"Looks like they've already fixed it," Saga noted.
"Perfect," Alex replied. "I don't want to go through the forest again. Even if the Taken disappeared after the Fold was destroyed, it would still take forever."
Saga nodded in agreement, and together they crossed the bridge.
Upon reaching Watery, they looked around carefully — the town seemed calm, the residents going about their business as if nothing had happened. Everything felt too... normal.
Alex and Saga approached the Impala and got inside. Alex started the engine and pulled out his phone. On the screen was a message from Alice: "Emmet was attacked. Scratch is already in Bright Falls."
Alex's expression darkened immediately. He shoved the phone into his pocket, slammed his foot on the gas, and jerked the wheel sharply. The car roared and shot forward at full speed.
He could only hope that Emmet was still alive.
Saga understood why Alex was in such a hurry. A growing anxiety for Casey gnawed at her chest as well.
The Impala sped along the wet road, headlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating the slick asphalt and road signs ahead. Alex didn't slow down even on sharp turns.
When they reached Bright Falls, the town looked unnervingly quiet. Saga and Alex exchanged a tense look, and Alex steered the car straight toward the Elderwood Palace Motel.
But as they turned toward it, they suddenly braked hard.
In front of the entrance lay a pile of bodies — members of the Tree cult.
The scene was horrific: the corpses were torn apart, and some were impaled on deer antlers, as if some unknown force had turned the forest animals into executioners.
Alex and Saga stepped out of the car. Saga crouched beside one of the less-mutilated bodies and checked for a pulse — nothing. They were all dead.
Alex looked around, noticing discrepancies — blood trails, scattered footprints, gaps where bodies should have been.
"Saga..." he said, pointing to the ground. "The number of corpses doesn't match. Here, here, and here — there should be bodies. They're gone. That means they became Taken."
"We need to get inside," Saga said, drawing her pistol. "We have to find out what happened to Casey and Emmet… and whether they managed to pull Wake out."
Alex nodded and followed her into the motel.
The sight inside was no less horrifying than outside. Blood and viscera were everywhere, body parts scattered around. Even the ceiling was splattered with red, and someone's intestines were wrapped around the antlers of a stuffed deer by the entrance. Saga froze for a moment — even after years of service, she had never seen anything like this.
Step by step, they moved through the hall, careful not to step on the blood-soaked remains. The air was heavy, thick with the stench of iron and decay.
Alex stopped beside Phil's body — the same guy he'd met on his first visit to town. Folding his hands silently, he offered a brief prayer for the man's soul, then continued after Saga.
The conference room was just as chaotic — overturned furniture, blood-spattered walls, and bodies strewn about haphazardly.
"Where could they have gone..." Saga muttered anxiously, glancing around.
"Judging by the tracks, there's only one exit — through the window," Alex said, crouching to examine the floor. "These marks… the darkness is literally seeping out of them. Scratch was here. And he left through that window."
Saga ran up to the open window. Outside, footprints mixed with blood and mud were visible, leading toward the forest.
Without hesitation, she climbed out the window. Alex followed close behind.
They sprinted after the bloody trail, which led deeper into the woods. Soon, the footprints vanished — but up ahead, strange sounds echoed through the darkness. It sounded like a struggle, or something heavy crashing to the ground.
Exchanging a glance, Alex and Saga quickened their pace.
They ran a little further and came upon another cluster of bodies — this time Taken. Their bodies were mangled, as if burned away by light. That meant one thing — they were going in the right direction.
The closer they got, the louder the noise became.
At last, a clearing appeared between the trees. Emmet lay unconscious near a tree, and a little further on — Casey and Alan. Standing over Wake's body was a man in a raincoat and a deer mask, holding a knife.
Without wasting a second, Saga raised her pistol and fired. The bullet struck the knife, knocking it from his hand. The mask fell to the ground, revealing a face — it was Ilmo Koskela.
"Ilmo?! What the hell are you doing?!" Saga shouted, training her weapon on him.
"Saga! You don't understand!" Ilmo yelled, struggling to rise. "That thing possessed Wake! We have to kill him before it's too late!"
"Damn, Ilmo..." Alex said irritably as he stepped forward. "I told you clearly: don't get involved. Just stay away. And what happened? Chaos and a pile of corpses. Is your brother Jaakko still alive at least?"
Ilmo opened his mouth but didn't get a chance to answer — suddenly bright floodlights lit up the whole clearing.
Alex looked up — a helicopter circled above them. The searchlights blinded them; Saga and Ilmo shielded their eyes with their hands. Alex frowned, clenching his lips in annoyance.
Armed men began to emerge from the trees. Assault rifles, body armor, black uniforms.
"Fantastic," Alex muttered through his teeth. "More idiots."
The agents closed in, weapons raised. Two of them ran to Wake and started laying him onto a stretcher.
A woman in a dark suit and a jacket bearing the Federal Bureau of Control emblem stepped out from the treeline.
"I am Agent Kiran Esteves, Federal Bureau of Control," she said in a confident, cold tone. "From this moment we are taking control of the situation."
"Nope," Alex replied calmly, drawing Ivory from his holster. "And why do you assume you are in charge now?"
"Do you even understand what you're getting into?" Kiran raised an eyebrow, masking nothing of her composure. "This is beyond ordinary agents. How do you call yourselves..."
"Alexander Voldigoad," Alex said evenly, looking her straight in the eyes. "Organization — Men of Letters. And listen, Kiran, if you bureaucratic freeloader types had done anything instead of sitting on your hands, the Bright Falls problem could have been solved thirteen years ago. Looks like your director wastes money on you."
He stepped forward and leveled the pistol at her head.
"Now — move your dogs away from Alan Wake," Alex said coldly. "Or this conversation ends very quickly."
Kiran's expression shifted when she heard the name Men of Letters. Her face went serious instantly — she knew of that ancient organization and couldn't fathom why one of its representatives had suddenly appeared here in Bright Falls. Officially, all Men of Letters members in America had vanished decades ago.
As Alex raised the gun and pointed it at her, the FBC agents reflexively leveled their weapons at him. Tension hung in the air. Kiran and Alex stared at each other silently — it was clear without words that this was not someone you could reason with through ordinary negotiations.
She understood: if he truly was a member of the Men of Letters, the situation was far more dangerous than it seemed. These two organizations never got along. Even if they hadn't crossed paths in America, conflicts between them had flared in Europe, and especially in England.
The roar of the helicopter and the chaos around finally brought Emmet back to his senses. His gaze quickly focused on the scene — agents, drawn guns, tense faces. Without hesitation, he grabbed one of the FBC agents by the neck and pulled him close, using him as a hostage.
Kiran immediately noticed and realized the situation had reached a breaking point. And to make matters worse, there was still a man from the Men of Letters pointing a gun at her head.
Saga stood nearby, confused and unsure what to do or even what was happening anymore.
"I think… we can cooperate. Just ask your partner to release my agent," Kiran said, trying to keep her tone calm despite the tension boiling inside.
"Emmet, you okay?!" Alex shouted, not taking his eyes off Kiran.
"I'll live," Emmet rasped. "That bastard cracked a couple of my ribs, but I'll live. What's the plan?"
Alex narrowed his eyes, quickly analyzing the situation. Handing Alan Wake over to the FBC meant only one thing — more bodies. Scratch had already possessed him, and no one knew when he would seize full control. But Alex also knew he had to play smart. Showing weakness or defiance now would ruin everything.
He decided to compromise. If cooperation with the FBC went smoothly, it might give him a chance to reach Jesse Faden — the Bureau's current Director.
After weighing the pros and cons, Alex clicked his tongue and slowly lowered his weapon, holstering Ivory. Emmet, taking the cue, released his hostage. The FBC agent stumbled back, coughing and clutching his throat as if he'd just been squeezed by a bear instead of a man.
"Alright..." Alex muttered irritably. "I hate working with clumsy idiots who ruin everything, but work is work. We've got a common goal — to deal with whatever's happening in Bright Falls."
"I'll count on your cooperation, Agent Voldigoad," Kiran replied coolly. Then she turned her gaze to Saga. "As for you, Agent Anderson — the FBI is no longer handling this case. It's been transferred to us."
She handed Saga a folder with a document.
"This is nonsense," Saga muttered, flipping through the pages.
"If you say so, Agent Anderson," Kiran said calmly. "We're transferring the evidence and documents from your station to ours — the sheriff's office. Do you have anything related to the case in your possession?"
Kiran's tone was even and professional — but her eyes still held a wary glint.
Saga frowned deeper at her words and threw a questioning look at Alex, silently asking what they should do. Alex caught her reaction but merely shrugged, pulling a pack of cigarettes and his phone from his coat pocket, making a show of having nothing else on him.
Saga understood the unspoken message. She realized Alex would never let the Clicker fall into the Bureau's hands — especially now, when they were taking Wake, possessed by Scratch. If that artifact ended up with Scratch, it would be catastrophic.
"No, nothing. Everything you could take, you already did," Saga said calmly, meeting Kiran's gaze.
"Good. Then your work here is done," Kiran said, taking a step back. "Agent Voldigoad, once you're finished here, I expect you at the sheriff's office. We need to talk."
"Before you go, take my partner and Agent Casey with you. Casey needs treatment, and my partner will go along… just in case," Alex said evenly.
"Understood. We'll take care of him, don't worry," Kiran nodded and gestured for her agents to prepare for transport.
Alex glanced at Emmet and gave a slight nod. Emmet understood immediately — Alex wanted him to go with the FBC agents and keep him informed about whatever was happening at the sheriff's office.
Helping carry the unconscious Casey, Emmet followed the agents and disappeared into the trees. Alex and Saga were left alone in the middle of the quiet, fog-covered forest.
When the last sounds of footsteps faded, Alex lit a cigarette, slowly exhaling smoke through his teeth. Irritation was written across his face — he had counted on the FBC arriving in Bright Falls tomorrow, but they had shown up a day early, shattering all his plans.
Saga stood beside him, still frowning and lost in thought. Her mind was a storm — what should they do next? Where should they go? And most importantly — how do they stop what's already begun?
To be continued...
(Anyway, I've been thinking about it and I've decided I need a beer. As for the plot, I've been thinking about it. Since no one's saying anything, I think everyone's happy with it. So, have a nice day or evening, or whatever you're having at the moment, reading this chapter. The main thing is that you spend your day with a smile on your face.)
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