Older Ash immediately shifted his stance when young Ash warned that something was wrong, subtly turning the enchanted chainsaw toward Ruby while keeping the Book of the Dead close. Young Ash, however, was no longer looking at her. He turned toward the right side of the cabin, where an overwhelming demonic presence had suddenly appeared behind the wall near the door. "That aura is way too strong to hide," he called coldly. "Come out."
Nothing answered, and the dark corner beside the doorway remained perfectly still. Young Ash waited only another second before striding across the room and driving one fist straight through the rotten wooden wall. His hand closed around something on the other side, and with one hard pull he ripped an elderly man through the broken boards and threw him onto the cabin floor.
Older Ash stared.
The newcomer looked exactly like him.
Same face.
Same hair.
Same clothes.
Even the same irritated expression.
The duplicate immediately pointed toward older Ash and shouted, "I'm the real Ash! That thing holding the Book of the Dead is a demon!"
Ruby's expression changed from alarm to weary recognition, and she slowly covered part of her face as though this was merely another old nightmare returning to inconvenience her. Older Ash clutched the Book of the Dead tighter and yelled, "Bullshit! I'm Ash Williams. What the hell are you supposed to be?" The duplicate shouted right back, "He's the fake one! I'm the real Ash!"
Young Ash looked between them.
Then he looked down at the duplicate's right side.
"Terrible impersonation."
The others followed his gaze.
The duplicate had a right hand.
Technically.
It was also one of the most disgusting hands young Ash had ever seen, covered in greenish rotting flesh, open sores, pustules, and crawling maggots. The smell reached them a moment later, making the deception considerably harder to maintain.
Older Ash stared at the hand with offended envy. "Come on. Why does the fake version get a hand?"
Young Ash tightened his grip around the duplicate's throat. "Because not having one is how everybody knows you're authentic."
"That's not comforting."
The duplicate stopped pretending once it became obvious the disguise had failed. "I am Ash," it insisted, its voice dropping into something more distorted. "What difference does it make whether a hand grows from Ash or Ash grows from a hand? We are the same."
Older Ash went still.
Then slowly looked toward the rotting palm.
"No."
The duplicate grinned.
Older Ash pointed at it. "You came from my severed hand?"
"Now you're catching up."
Young Ash glanced toward him. "Your old right hand really traveled a long way to reunite with you."
"Shut up."
The fake Ash's grin widened because it had inherited far more than its creator's appearance. "I have his memories too. Every embarrassing ache, every bad decision, every miserable morning after—"
Older Ash's expression immediately changed.
The duplicate continued, "Bad knees, sore back, fake dental work, shoulder pain, questionable stamina—"
"Stop."
"And that other little problem—"
"STOP!"
Older Ash pointed toward young Ash. "Kill it. Right now."
Young Ash's expression had become increasingly strange during the list, but he was perfectly willing to oblige. Hellfire erupted from his palm and wrapped around the fake Ash before the creature could plead for more than a second. The infernal flames devoured flesh and spirit together, reducing the duplicate to blackened ash that scattered across the cabin floor.
The strengthening reward was almost insultingly small.
Then the extracted ability appeared.
Young Ash stared blankly.
His right-hand flexibility had dramatically increased.
That was it.
He slowly looked toward older Ash.
"Getting old really makes everything depressing."
Older Ash's face darkened. "We are never discussing what that thing said."
"Absolutely."
"Ever."
"Of course."
Young Ash smiled faintly.
Older Ash immediately knew he was lying.
"Let's finish the ritual."
That was clearly less humiliating than continuing the conversation. Older Ash picked up the Kandarian Dagger while Ruby stepped forward again, apparently relieved that the strange interruption had not exposed anything more important. "Once you start cutting," she warned, "you cannot stop halfway through, no matter what the book says or what it shows you."
Older Ash examined the grotesque dagger and nodded. "Got it. Once the surgery starts, we finish the operation."
He placed the Book of the Dead onto the table.
Then raised the dagger.
"Time to find out if you scream as loudly as I did when I lost my hand."
The Kandarian Dagger pierced the edge of the book's flesh-bound cover.
Fresh blood immediately seeped from the cut.
The distorted human face molded into the cover snapped awake and began screaming.
"Ash!"
Older Ash ignored it.
"Stop!"
He held the book firmly with his mechanical hand and drew the dagger slowly along the edge of the human-skin face. The supernatural flesh resisted like living tissue, twitching beneath the blade while blood spread across the cover and dripped onto the table.
"We don't have to be enemies!" the book cried. "I can help you!"
Older Ash kept cutting.
"No, Ash! Stop!"
The screaming became increasingly desperate as the dagger completed the final section. Older Ash hooked his mechanical fingers under the severed face and tore the entire piece away from the Book of the Dead before throwing it onto the floor.
The screaming stopped instantly.
Sticky blood covered the exposed surface beneath the missing face, making it look less like an ancient book and more like flesh freshly peeled from a living body. Ruby's eyes brightened with obvious excitement, but young Ash was already moving.
Hellfire burst from his hand.
The severed human-skin cover was engulfed before it could react.
It convulsed violently on the floor.
Black bubbles formed along the edges as Demonic Power corroded the supernatural flesh, while Hellfire poured into every opening created by the corrosion. Burning and erosion worked together until the skin curled inward, cracked into brittle charcoal, and finally collapsed into ash.
Ruby watched young Ash far more closely after that.
She had already seen enough to know something about him did not make sense.
When they first met, he carried the strangely attractive supernatural presence of a succubus. During combat, he produced Hellfire associated with infernal beings. Now his black energy had demonstrated powerful corrosive properties as well.
Those abilities did not belong together.
Not naturally.
Ruby's eyes narrowed.
Had he made contracts with multiple demons?
Was he borrowing their powers?
Or was something much stranger happening?
Older Ash barely cared anymore because he had already seen young Ash gain new tricks after killing supernatural creatures several times. The teenager had never used Hellfire before killing the Flame Demon, so older Ash had formed his own rough theory: whatever paranormal ability young Ash possessed allowed him to take something from the monsters he killed.
He did not understand the details.
He also did not particularly care, as long as young Ash kept aiming those abilities at the demons instead of him.
Older Ash looked toward Ruby. "Face is off. What next?"
Ruby recovered immediately.
"Give me the book."
Older Ash began extending it toward her.
Young Ash's hand shot out and stopped him.
"Why?"
Ruby frowned. "Why what?"
"You said we're destroying the Book of the Dead." Young Ash looked directly at her. "Why does destroying it require transferring ownership to you?"
Ruby froze for only a fraction of a second.
That was enough.
She quickly answered, "Because I have to become its owner before I can complete the final destruction ritual while its defenses are weakened."
Young Ash said nothing.
His fingers brushed the notebook hidden inside his coat.
Professor Knowby's notes contained no such step in the destruction ritual.
They did contain that exact step somewhere else.
The ritual for transferring ownership.
Young Ash slowly turned toward older Ash.
Older Ash met his eyes.
Neither needed to speak.
Older Ash tightened his grip on the enchanted shotgun.
Young Ash's Demonic Power surged.
Ruby realized too late that the two men had reached the same conclusion.
The shotgun roared.
Hellfire exploded through the cabin at the same moment.
"Damn it!"
Ruby tried to move, but older Ash's enchanted buckshot struck first. Demonic Power–soaked pellets tore into her chest and blasted open a deep wound before she could properly defend herself.
Young Ash's Hellfire hit immediately afterward.
Infernal flames swallowed Ruby from head to toe.
She crashed backward into the cabin wall hard enough to shake the entire structure, while Demonic Power spread through the shotgun wound and began eating into her body from within. Blood evaporated almost as quickly as it appeared, and flesh blackened beneath the combined corrosion and supernatural fire.
Ruby tried to scream.
Her throat stopped functioning first.
The flames consumed skin, muscle, and exposed tissue until her body became a charred humanoid silhouette pressed against the wall. Black smoke curled from the empty sockets of her burned face while the smell of scorched flesh filled the cabin.
Older Ash kept the shotgun aimed at her.
Young Ash held Hellfire ready in one palm.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then older Ash looked toward him.
"So... what now?"