After Alex and Dean returned to the Bunker, the new day arrived surprisingly quickly. Despite the fact that their small but strange family had gained new members in the form of Wednesday and Enid, no drastic changes occurred in the Bunker itself.
Until late at night, Alex and Dean told Sam and Castiel about their time at Nevermore. After learning more about the academy, Sam simply nodded in understanding — now it was clear to him why such a place existed.
When the conversation turned to the monster they had been hunting, Sam became genuinely interested in Hydes and asked for the materials. Alex handed him a whole stack of documents without asking any questions.
Enid, just as Alex had expected, quickly found common ground with Alice. Their hyperactive personalities instantly brought the girls together — they could chatter about literally anything without stopping for a single minute.
Wednesday, on the other hand, felt a bit detached and didn't quite understand how to behave in such an environment. However, Lucina fairly quickly found common ground with her, casually mentioning that with the help of their family phone one could access police archives, federal agencies, and even the Bureau of Control.
Wednesday's gloomy and peculiar personality didn't put anyone off — there were very few "normal" people in this family to begin with.
The appearance of GIR, MIMI, and Stitch, however, caused a real explosion of delight in Enid. Her eyes literally lit up with happiness and affection, and she couldn't resist the urge to squeeze and hug all three of them. To their credit, all three were more than happy with the attention.
The overly talkative robot Claptrap, on the contrary, managed to annoy the girls in just a few hours. In the end, he was quietly and without any fuss sent through a portal to Orario — let him get on everyone's nerves there.
When asked where he had gone, Lucina said with a perfectly calm expression that he had been "sent home."
GIR, MIMI, and Stitch almost immediately accepted Enid. First she called them the cutest creatures in the world, and then hugged them tightly — that was more than enough for the trio to decide that they now had a new mom.
Wednesday, on the contrary, made them wary. She looked at them as if she were estimating exactly how she would dissect them. And considering her personality, this wasn't just a feeling.
Fortunately, Wednesday's attention quickly shifted to the extensive collection of books and artifacts gathered by the Men of Letters order. That was how the day of returning home came to an end.
The next morning, Alex woke up with a pleasant feeling of weight on his chest.
Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw was Alice's mischievous gaze as she lay on his chest, silently studying his face.
Smiling, Alex wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Alice smiled contentedly in response and wrapped her arms around his neck. After lying there a little longer, Alex decided it was time to get up and make breakfast.
He carefully woke Lucina and Samantha, after which he went to wash up together with the girls. Wednesday and Enid had chosen separate rooms and were not yet sleeping together with the others.
After washing up, Alex went to wake Wednesday and Enid. Wednesday was first. Entering the room she had chosen, Alex wasn't surprised at all — in just one evening, she had already managed to give the place a dark and austere look.
Quietly approaching the bed, he saw Wednesday sleeping in a "vampiric" pose, her arms crossed over her chest. Alex leaned down and gently kissed her on the lips. Wednesday's eyes flew open immediately.
Seeing Alex, she looked at him with her usual, attentive gaze. Alex told her it was time to get up and have breakfast, receiving only a short nod in response. Not wanting to disturb her while she washed up, Alex went to wake Enid. Overnight, Enid's room had transformed into something pink, fluffy, and chaotic.
Approaching the bed, Alex saw Enid hugging the sleeping GIR, MIMI, and Stitch, mumbling something unintelligible in her sleep. The moment he said the word "breakfast," the trio immediately sprang into action and rushed to the kitchen, leaving a stunned and sleepy Enid behind.
"Carry me…" she mumbled, reaching her arms out to Alex.
"Are you sure you're a werewolf and not a cat?" Alex smirked, lifting her into his arms.
"I'm a wolf…" Enid murmured sleepily, closing her eyes.
Alex just smiled and carried her to the bathroom, helping her fully wake up.
Gradually, Enid began to come to herself. The night before, she had chatted with Alice until late, talking about everything under the sun, including Alice's impressive collection of paintings.
When Wednesday learned that Alice had painted the very artwork given to her for her birthday, she also showed interest—especially in the darker pieces.
Helping Enid wash up, Alex could feel her finally waking up. Within minutes, she was happily skipping down the Bunker corridor, holding his hand.
On the way, they ran into Dean, wrapped in a robe and clearly suffering from a harsh hangover. Seeing Alex and Enid, he just nodded and mumbled something, then shuffled toward the kitchen for his life-saving coffee, muttering something about youth.
In the kitchen, Sam was already waiting for them, sitting at the table with a tablet and sipping coffee.
Enid immediately jumped to Alice, and the girls quickly resumed their lively chatter. Alex, meanwhile, got busy preparing breakfast.
Dean plopped down at the table, leaning on his hands and desperately fighting sleep until a cup of hot coffee was placed in front of him. At the smell, he immediately opened his eyes.
"So…" he mumbled, taking a sip. "What's the plan for today?"
"Chat with your ex…" Alex replied calmly, not turning around and continuing to make breakfast.
At Alex's words, Sam nearly choked on his coffee, barely managing to suppress a laugh.
Dean's eye twitched just as he took a sip.
Lucina, Samantha, and Alice quietly laughed, throwing teasing glances at Dean—it was no secret to any of them who Alex was talking about.
Wednesday calmly sipped her coffee and looked intently at Dean, trying to remember which "ex" he meant.
Enid, however, was the most shocked of the group. She stared at Dean with genuine astonishment—he seemed like a cool, rugged guy in her mind… and didn't fit the image of someone with an ex like that.
"You have an ex…?" Enid asked, stunned, not taking her eyes off him.
"Do you want me to hit you?" Dean asked grimly, shifting his gaze to Alex.
"You wake up properly first, then we'll talk. To get to the Cage, we need to get to Hell. And to get to Hell, we need… who?" Alex said, turning his head and pointing at Dean with a spatula.
"We need Crowley," Sam replied calmly, nodding. "He should know exactly where the Cage is."
"Can't you just use your Death tricks and teleport us straight to the Cage? Talk to Lucifer—and that's it," Dean said, squinting.
"I could. But I won't," Alex replied, placing plates of breakfast in front of the girls. "Lucifer is part of my plan. And exactly what the plan is… I'm not saying yet."
"Spill it, Sherlock. What are you scheming now?" Dean said, already knowing Alex well enough.
"Not now. After we deal with the Cage, I'll explain everything. Trust me, this plan will buy us some time while we deal with the other fragments of Amara's power," Alex said, sitting between Lucina and Wednesday.
"Are you sure your secret plan will work?" Sam asked.
"Ninety percent sure. Judging by what you've told me about Lucifer…" Alex chuckled and smirked. "Everything will go exactly as I planned."
He let out a quiet laugh—distinctly, almost villainously. Everyone looked at him.
Lucina merely sighed and lightly rubbed her forehead, already used to the fact that her husband sometimes behaved like a second-rate villain with grand, overblown plans.
Wednesday, on the other hand, was intrigued. The idea of how Alex intended to deceive Lucifer himself clearly caught her interest—even if this Lucifer was only a fake, and the real one happened to be Alex's brother.
Dean nodded silently. During the time he had spent with Alex in Jericho, he had come to understand just how meticulous and dangerously calculated Alex could be in matters like this. All Sam could do was agree. Now all that remained was to wait until evening to meet Crowley.
Time passed surprisingly quickly.
Alex spent the day with the girls. Dean relaxed in the rec room, staring at the TV. Sam once again buried himself in research, trying to find anything useful against Amara.
Gradually, evening arrived.
Alex and the girls were sitting in the Bunker's main hall.
Alex was reading the latest news on his phone while absentmindedly stroking Lucina's legs, which she had shamelessly placed across his lap as she continued reading a book written by Wednesday.
Wednesday herself was settled with a book from the Bunker's library.
Alice, Lucina, and Samantha were animatedly discussing a new manicure.
"Hey, Sammy… and you too, lover boy," Dean said as he walked into the library. "Get ready. Time to pay Uncle Crowley a visit."
"Wednesday, want to take a look at the King of Hell?" Alex asked, turning to her.
"I see no point in wasting time on someone who sold his soul for a dubious extra couple of centimeters in his pants," Wednesday replied dryly, not lifting her eyes from the book. "I'd rather gather information for my next book."
"Wednesday!.." Enid gasped, instantly turning red.
Wednesday merely cast Enid an empty, cold look, making it clear that she had said exactly what she meant and had no intention of choosing her words differently.
Dean immediately burst out laughing, clutching his stomach and clearly imagining Crowley's face if he ever heard that. Sam only smiled faintly as he got up from the table.
Lucina, Alice, and Samantha chuckled as well—remarks like the one Wednesday had just made had long since stopped being anything new to them.
Alex simply smirked. He carefully removed Lucina's legs from his lap, stretched slightly, and stood up. Throwing on a light black jacket, he headed for the exit.
Laughing, Alex, Dean, and Sam got into Dean's black Impala. As he slid behind the wheel, Dean was still laughing.
"He'd lose his mind."
"Naturally," Sam replied, turning to him. "Wouldn't you?"
"Well… fair point," Dean admitted with a nod.
"Oh, right, guys," Alex added lazily from the back seat. "You don't mind if I pick up a couple of useful toys for us on the way, do you?"
Dean and Sam turned their heads toward Alex at the same time. He was calmly looking at his phone screen.
The reason for his comment was a message from one of the reapers—the very one Alex had earlier asked to do a small "job." The reaper had found something that could be quite useful in the near future.
"What kind of toys?" Sam asked, watching Alex closely as Dean pulled out of the garage. "Dangerous ones?"
"Very," Alex smirked, slipping the phone into his pocket. "But extremely useful. I won't be long. In and out."
"Then hurry it up, Mr. Death," Dean snorted. "We still need to scare Crowley properly."
"No problem. I'll just kill someone, grab our new toys, and that's it," Alex said cheerfully, waving a hand. "See you there."
Dean just nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. Sam nodded as well, though he was curious about who exactly Alex was planning to kill and what kind of "toys" he meant.
In the next moment, Alex vanished from the Impala. He appeared somewhere else.
The remote area resembled a small forest. Before him stood a simple, cozy house with a white fence—a place clearly chosen by those who didn't want to be disturbed. A little further off was a small barn, from which the sounds of domestic animals drifted.
Alex lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke slowly, staring at the house. The light was on inside the first floor, and soft, calm music could be heard from within.
"Sir," a respectful female voice sounded behind him. "As you suspected… the Knight of Hell, Ramiel, is still alive."
A female reaper appeared behind Alex. She wore a sharp, tailored suit that neatly accentuated her figure, and her light, wavy hair fell onto her shoulders. Her simple brown eyes looked calm and attentive, without fear—only undisguised respect.
She stopped a few steps behind him. Alex, without turning, exhaled the cigarette smoke and continued watching the house where the Knight of Hell—Ramiel—lived.
He remembered well the "gifts" Crowley had once given him. The first was the Colt, created by Samuel Colt—not just a weapon capable of killing supernatural beings, but also a key to the gates of Hell.
The second was Michael's spear. Crowley had presented them, hoping to curry favor with Ramiel while simultaneously offering him the throne of the King of Hell. Two priceless gifts—in exchange for his favor.
But Ramiel had refused.
He had offered Crowley the chance to become the King of Hell himself, with only one condition: that no one would disturb him ever again.
After the deal was struck, Crowley spread the rumor that Ramiel was dead. That's how he took the throne, leaving one of the Knights of Hell in the shadows.
"Thank you, Lila," Alex said calmly, not turning his head. "You've been a great help. I hope finding Ramiel wasn't too difficult."
"No, boss. It wasn't hard at all," Lila replied respectfully.
"Glad to hear it. Then go ahead. I'll handle the rest myself," Alex said with a smile, slightly turning his head.
Lila nodded and disappeared, as if she had never been there. Alex took a long drag of his cigarette and moved forward. Stopping at the white gate, he thoughtfully stroked his chin, assessing the house.
Besides Ramiel, there were two other Knights of Hell to deal with sooner or later. Asmodeus—hiding, gaining strength while keeping Gabriel in check. He wants Lucifer's place but is still too weak.
Dagon—patiently waiting for his moment, still loyal to Lucifer. And Ramiel—the one who has chosen neither side. Everything depended on how the conversation went. If Ramiel handed over the Colt and spear without any trouble, he might survive the night.
"I wasn't expecting visitors at this hour," a calm male voice came from the porch. "Especially not like you."
Alex lowered his gaze. Standing on the porch was Ramiel.
A middle-aged man with an athletic build. His medium-length black hair was slightly swept back, and his beard was partially gray. A dark jacket, jeans, boots—he looked as if he had just returned from fishing.
He looked like an ordinary man. Calm. Unremarkable. More like a collector who valued silence and solitude than an ancient Knight of Hell.
Ramiel carefully examined Alex from head to toe. It wasn't hard to guess who stood before him. The reaper who had recently appeared near the house and the Ring of Death on the finger of the young-looking man spoke for themselves.
"I come when I'm needed," Alex replied calmly, bringing the cigarette to his lips. "No one ever expects me as a guest."
"True," Ramiel nodded, folding his arms across his chest. "And why has the new Death come to see me? I don't believe my time has come."
"I decide when and whose time comes," Alex said indifferently. "Yours is in a year."
He paused.
"Or right now. If you don't voluntarily give up two things that don't belong to you."
"I don't recall having anything that could interest Death," Ramiel replied evenly.
"The Colt and the spear," Alex said. "You hand them over—and you die when your time comes, in a year."
He pointed to the ground at his feet.
"Keep being stubborn, and I'll take them myself. I know where you keep them. In the basement. Where you store your entire collection."
"And if I refuse?" Ramiel asked without emotion. "You think I haven't heard all that nonsense about balance, life, and death? You can only frighten foolish mortals and small fry."
Alex looked at him with an empty, cold gaze.
"I'm afraid you're mistaken."
He slowly snapped his fingers.
"Since the negotiations have failed, I'll take everything I need myself. I hope you enjoy the emptiness you're about to end up in."
The instant Alex snapped his fingers, a black spear burst out of Ramiel's shadow and pierced straight through his chest.
Struck, Ramiel collapsed to his knees. His face froze in stunned disbelief, his eyes filled with shock and disbelief as they locked onto Alex.
Meanwhile, Alex calmly opened the gate and stepped onto the property. He unhurriedly climbed the steps to the porch and looked at Ramiel with a blank, detached gaze, as the Knight of Hell still couldn't believe he was about to die.
"I'm afraid you were a little wrong in your words. I am the new Death, and I have far more authority than the old man ever did. I can kill anyone, anytime—even God. I just don't do it, because it's… not fun. Dagon and Asmodeus are next. And perhaps, if you had truly lived in isolation, Ramiel, I wouldn't have touched you. But you shouldn't have abducted people. You really shouldn't have," Alex said, looking away.
He calmly walked past Ramiel, who was slowly crumbling into ash.
With great effort, Ramiel turned his head and looked at Alex as he entered the house. Until the very last moment, he couldn't believe he had died so simply.
When the front door slammed shut, Ramiel's body finally turned to dust, which the wind immediately carried away.
Inside, Alex glanced around briefly and headed to the kitchen. He turned on all the burners, including the oven, then moved on.
Stepping into the living room, Alex pulled a canister of gasoline from his inventory and, quietly whistling a tune, began pouring it all over the first floor.
Climbing to the second floor, he left a box of dynamite in the middle of the hallway and lightly dusted his hands.
"Looks like everything's ready for the fireworks. Now it's time to grab the new toys. That means… the basement," Alex said, clasping his hands behind his head as he headed down.
Back on the first floor, he approached the basement door, opened it, and flicked the switch—the room was bathed in dim light.
Descending the steps, Alex saw Ramiel's extensive collection: paintings, artifacts, rare weapons, and items that belonged more in a museum than a private home.
Reaching the bottom, Alex felt his phone vibrate slightly. Messages were already appearing in the family chat from the girls—each one saying what she wanted to take for herself.
Before he could even reply, a portal opened in front of him, and yellow worker robots stepped out. Without a word, they immediately began packing everything and carrying it through the portal.
Alex stood with a stunned expression, phone in hand, watching a dozen robots methodically remove paintings, weapons, and other valuables.
A few minutes later, nothing remained of Ramiel's collection—only bare walls. And if Alex hadn't acted in time, the loaders would have already ripped the safe he needed straight out of the wall.
Once Ramiel's collection officially became the Voldigoad family's, Alex's phone vibrated again. Opening the chat, he saw long rows of heart emojis from the various girls. Sighing, he just smirked and slipped the phone into his pocket.
He turned his gaze to the single safe left in the basement and approached it. The safe was large, massive—a typical weapons storage unit covered in protective runes.
To Alex, it was still just a safe. Grasping the handle, he gave it a slight tug—and the door was ripped off entirely.
The first thing that caught his eye was a neat spear with a silver tip. Barely visible runes ran along the shaft—it was Michael's Spear from this universe.
Alex picked it up, and his first thought was to break it. He quickly suppressed the urge, ran his finger along the shaft, and the runes immediately glowed with a soft blue light.
Examining them, Alex realized the spear was far more interesting than it appeared at first glance—especially the combination of Enochian runes.
Any unholy creature pierced by this weapon died instantly. And those embodying holiness suffered a slow, agonizing death.
"As much as I want to break you… it's not time yet. Maybe later I'll give you to my brother. As a greeting. And now—the tastiest part. The Colt," Alex said, tossing the spear onto his shoulder and turning his gaze to the black metal box inside the safe.
Leaning Michael's Spear against the wall, Alex pulled the black metal box from the safe. Opening it, he saw the Colt carefully wrapped in cloth—a legendary revolver capable of killing any unholy creature, except for three beings in this universe.
At the sight of the weapon, Alex almost drooled. He was already imagining how he could modify the Colt to make it capable of killing literally everything—including dark gods. Wiping his lips with effort and letting out a quiet smirk, he carefully lifted the revolver into his hands.
This Colt was one of those artifacts Alex had dreamed of from the very beginning of his journey. Every detail—from the runes and engravings to the tiniest bolts—was crafted by Samuel Colt himself. Not a single factory-made part, not a single random line. Everything was the product of patience, stubbornness, and the genius of a mortal.
Even Hephaestus, watching the broadcast and seeing the weapon in her husband's hands, could not hide her amazement. As the goddess of the forge, she understood perfectly how much effort, time, and soul had been poured into this creation. Once again, she was reminded: mortals are capable of creating truly unique things—if they have enough willpower.
Meanwhile, Alex caressed the Colt as if it were a new lover. With careful, almost tender movements, he began loading cartridges into the cylinder. Each click brought him aesthetic satisfaction. Spinning the cylinder, he enjoyed the sound like music.
Once the revolver was loaded, Alex deftly spun the cylinder, raised the Colt, and aimed forward.
"My beauty…" he whispered with quiet satisfaction. "If I'd known how you were, I would have stolen you on the very first day I came to this world. Far away from that evil uncle."
At that moment, Alex thought he heard a collective sigh of women in his head. He frowned, looked around, and shrugged, deciding it had just been his imagination.
In reality, almost all of them had sighed. The girls from Alex's family, watching the scene, couldn't remain indifferent. Even Nyan-Nyan, who had been monitoring the lives of Alex and their daughter nonstop, quietly sighed. Lady Death, observing from her side, couldn't help herself either.
The only one who didn't care at all was Yogh. At that moment, she was calmly sitting in Erina and Alice Nakiri's restaurant, methodically devouring the sweets, forcing Erina, Alice, and Hisako to work nonstop.
Scratching his ear, Alex shrugged again and headed for the stairs, leaving the basement. Casting a glance over Ramiel's house, he paused for a moment, wondering if he had forgotten anything. But a quick inspection confirmed: everything he needed was already with him.
Taking a cigarette from his pocket, Alex lit it. After one drag, he carefully placed the cigarette on the nightstand and lazily stepped out of the house. In one hand he held the Colt, in the other Michael's Spear.
About ten meters away, Alex plunged the spear into the ground and took out his phone, waiting for the fireworks to start.
Moments later, a deafening explosion roared. A column of flames shot into the sky, and Ramiel's house, along with the barn, was blown to pieces.
"Alright… Knight of Hell killed, robbed, house blown up. Looks like that's everything," Alex noted calmly, pocketing his phone after recording the moment of the explosion. "Now let's see how Din and Sam's conversation with Crowley went."
The next moment, Alex vanished, leaving the burning ruins to smolder without any spectators.
He appeared in another place—and immediately saw Dean, Sam, and Crowley. Not long before, the Winchesters had finally met the King of Hell. Crowley clearly didn't feel like seeing them, but he had shown up nonetheless.
As soon as he appeared, Sam began explaining what they wanted and why it was important. Crowley listened with an utterly blank expression, as if he had finally decided that Sam had lost his mind. Everything he said sounded absurd—even by Crowley's standards.
"So God just shoved all this into your head?" he drawled with obvious skepticism. "Or maybe you made it all up? No… you don't have that kind of imagination, Moose."
"We're just trying to figure out," Dean interjected. "Is this even possible?"
"The Cage is a Pandora's box. One you really shouldn't touch," Crowley replied dryly. "So if you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave."
"I think… we're going to have a little chat," a male voice sounded behind him.
Then the revolver's hammer clicked.
The dry click froze Crowley's hand in midair—just as he was about to teleport.
Sam and Dean, who had been watching the demon the whole time, simultaneously shifted their gaze behind him. There stood Alex, calm and confident, holding the painfully familiar Colt in his hands.
Dean's eyebrows shot up. Sam squinted in disbelief.
Crowley frowned and slowly turned his head. His eyes landed directly on the barrel of the revolver. One glance was enough to recognize the weapon… and where it was supposed to be.
He shifted his gaze slightly—and noticed Michael's Spear in Alex's other hand.
The realization hit instantly.
"Dean, Sammy…" Alex said with a slight smile, keeping the barrel raised. "Looks like your little chat didn't go too well while I was gone."
"You're just in time," Dean smirked, crossing his arms. "I see you brought a gift. Where'd you find him?"
"Oh, you know…" Alex shrugged. "Took out a Knight of Hell, carried off his entire collection, and blew up his house. Can't leave toys like that in the hands of an idiot. Don't you think so, Crowley?"
Alex's broad smile looked far too calm for someone aiming a Colt.
"Dean," Crowley said dryly, not lowering his gaze from the barrel. "Tell your new little friend to stop pointing that at me. It… irritates me."
"I thought you were planning to leave," Dean replied with a satisfied grin. "Well then, go ahead."
Crowley glanced at Dean. He was smirking. Sam also barely smiled.
The demon shifted his gaze back to Alex. The Colt in one hand, Michael's Spear in the other. The picture became painfully clear. Ramiel hadn't appeared, not because he didn't want to kill the guy who raided his house—he simply couldn't appear, because he was dead.
In Crowley's mind, an escape plan was already taking shape at a frantic pace—but Alex, as if reading his thoughts, slowly lowered the Colt. Crowley let out a relieved breath… and immediately tried to teleport.
Nothing happened.
He looked up. Alex winked at him. And one didn't have to be an idiot to figure out who was to blame.
"Dean, Moose," Crowley said irritably, turning to the Winchesters. "Where on earth did you dig up this lad? This is our first meeting, and he's already pointing one of the most unpleasant weapons in the universe at me."
"That's Alex," Dean said cheerfully. "Sort of our little brother. Oh, and… don't try any of your old tricks. He's also the new Death."
"And I'm Saint Peter," Crowley snorted with blatant sarcasm.
Dean and Sam merely smirked. Alex walked around Crowley and took his place beside the Winchesters. Deliberately slowly, he lit a cigarette, giving the demon plenty of time to notice the Ring of Death on his finger.
Crowley froze. Now everything fell into place. The Colt. The spear. Ramiel's death. And most importantly—the new Death had once again ended up on the Winchesters' side. Crowley clicked his tongue. He was in deep shit.
"Crowley," Dean broke the silence, "you know as well as I do that the Darkness will sooner or later show everyone where the crawfish spend the winter."
"You had a chance to end her," Sam added. "But you decided to suck up to her instead. And you blew it."
"Not very successfully, either," Alex chimed in, brushing away a nonexistent tear. "You feed her, take care of her, love her… and she still runs off. Ah, how fast children grow up."
Crowley narrowed his eyes and looked straight at Dean.
"And yet… she took the greatest liking to you, Dean," he said reproachfully. "But you never managed to tame your beauty. Otherwise, why would she protect you?"
He tilted his head.
"So who is she to you, then?"
Dean grimaced slightly at Crowley's question.
Even he didn't fully understand what exactly bound him to Amara. Yes, there had been a strange date—dinner by candlelight, a bottle of wine, a silence far too calm for the end of the world. But Dean still couldn't explain why Amara was so attached to him.
Sam looked at his brother and hesitated for a moment. He didn't know the whole truth about what was going on between Dean and Amara. All he knew was that Amara sometimes appeared to Dean in his dreams. That was it.
Meanwhile, Alex lazily leaned against Michael's spear stuck in the ground and calmly smoked his cigarette, as if watching an amusing performance from the sidelines.
"You really want to know who she is?" Dean finally said, looking at Crowley. "Amara is God's sister. Will that answer do?"
Crowley blinked.
"His sister?.. He has family?" He clicked his tongue in annoyance. "I had such a trump card in my hand… and I let it slip."
"More like you were lucky, Uncle Crowley, that Amara ran off," Alex drawled in a cheerful tone, eyeing the demon with undisguised delight. "Otherwise the ending would've been simple and… digestive."
He smirked.
"You took in the poor, destitute little sister of God himself, dreaming of raising her. And in the end, you helped her grow up… by becoming her food. Along with all the demons you kept feeding her."
Crowley opened his mouth to snap back, but Alex merely raised an eyebrow—calmly, almost friendly. Try me.
Crowley immediately shut his mouth. No matter how arrogant he was, the demon knew perfectly well who he could play word games with and who he couldn't. Otherwise, he would never have become King of Hell, having subjugated not just the throne, but all the demons who had once wanted to rise against him.
Sam, watching this, just shook his head slightly. Crowley had been silenced for the second time today.
"Alright," Dean said, breaking the pause. "Let's focus on something more important. Sam, purely theoretically… could he meet Lucifer?"
He gestured toward his brother.
"In the cage," Sam added, nodding.
"No. Just… not in there," Dean cut in immediately. "And don't even think about it. I'm not agreeing. Alex either."
"So, there won't be a meeting," Sam said calmly. "Dean, understand— we can't let him out of the cage. We've already got enough problems. Do we really need to add another version of the apocalypse?"
"Alright, girls, enough," Crowley interjected, stopping their argument, which he had seen dozens of times before. "You'll have plenty of time to scratch each other's faces later."
He smirked.
"So why do you need me? If you've got Death as a friend, let him deliver you to the cage with Lucifer. You can even tie a bow on yourself—for effect."
"Because I'm lazy," Alex replied lazily. "Why do something myself when there's someone who can do it for me? Crowley, it's time for you to earn some team points."
Crowley looked at Alex, and immediately a whirlwind of thoughts erupted in his mind.
As always, the first idea was to turn the situation to his advantage. But the main thing he realized—Alex was no different from the Winchesters. Only far more dangerous.
A plan began to form instantly.
Dean and Sam fell silent, watching Crowley sink into thought.
"What?" Dean asked impatiently.
"Got an idea," Crowley finally said. "When everything's ready, I'll call. But now… I have to go. With your permission."
He looked at Alex. Alex simply smiled and nodded, letting him go. The next moment, Crowley teleported and vanished.
Alex, Dean, and Sam got into the Impala and headed to the Bunker. On the way, Alex told them how he had found the Colt and the spear. When he mentioned that the spear belonged to Michael, Dean and Sam were just as surprised as they were about the return of the Colt itself.
Alex went into detail about how he tracked down Ramiel and how everything ended, including the video of the Hell Knight's house exploding in a pillar of fire. Dean smirked. Sam just shook his head, taking in all the madness.
To be continued…
(The plan to make Sam stronger will gradually unfold over time. I was planning on introducing Hell, the cage, and that idiot Lucifer in this chapter. But then I remembered the weapon, which would be useful. And um, how could Alex have missed that weapon? So, we'll stick to the usual plan. Yeah.)
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