After Alex extracted the memories from the priest's mind, he managed to get answers to some of the questions that had long tormented him. Despite the memories being fragmented and disjointed, Alex was able to grasp the most important part — Davoth turned out to be far stronger than his counterpart from the game. What he saw surprised him: the Davoth he glimpsed in the priest's memory was not just powerful — he was truly terrifying and dangerous. In his crusade, he had destroyed countless universes, spreading death and chaos.
Alex also discovered the principle by which Davoth chose his Chosen. He only paid attention to those who proved themselves worthy — those who challenged him and survived. That's how Doom Slayer caught his eye — one of the few who met these criteria. Although Doom Slayer hadn't yet fought Davoth directly, Davoth had already noticed him. The priests tried to sway him to Davoth's side, offering him a chance to kneel. That's what cost them their lives. Enraged, Davoth sent his Chosen to hunt down Doom Slayer, but most of them were torn to pieces by him. The three priests who betrayed him and their brothers fled in panic before he could reach them.
However, Doom Slayer's world was still under attack by demons. And in this world, the cause was an idiot named Wesker, who opened a portal into this realm — right where the Minister of Monoliths was playing his cruel game. Thanks to Wesker, Davoth became involved in the game, which complicated the situation even further. Unfortunately, Deag Nilox didn't know where exactly Davoth was now or what he was doing. The entire invasion was being coordinated by three priests... or rather, now two — since Deag Nilox had turned into a pile of ash.
What intrigued Alex was that Davoth was acting on multiple fronts simultaneously. In addition to this universe, there was a full-scale invasion taking place in Doom Slayer's world — though the current situation there remained unknown. Since the priests fled, there had been no contact with Doom Slayer, and the Chosen who survived their encounter with him now served the priests as bodyguards.
Alex finally understood why every enemy he had encountered kept repeating the same thing — kneel, become a dog. Davoth knew how special this universe was. He hoped to add new warriors to his army, but Alex began interfering with his plans, destroying the Chosen one by one. That was why the demons had named him the False Savior — a name that sounded like a cruel mockery. Upon hearing it, Alex just laughed, shook his head, and mentally noted how absurd fate's irony could be.
Originally, his only target had been the Minister of Monoliths. But now there was also Davoth — with ambitions no less grand than the avatars of Nyan-Nyan who dreamed of overthrowing the original and taking her place. Calming himself, Alex understood: no matter how things played out, he had no choice. He would have to fight — one enemy or two, it didn't matter.
He already had a plan: first, take out Davoth, who was interfering with the Minister's enjoyment of his own theatrical play. Then, once Davoth fell, the Minister of Monoliths would surely step onto the stage himself — with a pompous speech, trying to convince Alex that all his efforts were in vain and that the real enemy had remained in the shadows all along.
Alex already had a surprise ready for him. So even if that fool appeared in the finale with a villain's monologue, his plans would be ruined, and he'd be beaten and sent straight to hell. After that, Alex intended to return to his home world.
Disconnecting from Deag Nilox's memories, Alex sighed and opened his eyes. Red and White were waiting nearby, patiently standing by while he finished the memory dive. Alex briefly told them what he had learned so the android girls could analyze the information. After that, the trio left the workshop.
As he stepped into the living room, Alex lazily dropped onto the couch, waiting for the other girls to return so he could share the information he had uncovered. Alcina, who had been reading a book, looked up at him, clearly expecting an explanation, but Alex, without opening his eyes, simply mumbled that he would wait until everyone had gathered. She nodded and returned to her reading.
Alex thought to himself that he would need to capture another Priest of the Underworld to gain more information. However, after Deag's death, the remaining two would surely be on high alert. For now, he decided to stay away from the second priest, who, according to his information, was hiding somewhere in Central Europe.
Several hours passed. The girls began to return. Those who hadn't seen the Priest of the Underworld with their own eyes expressed disappointment and even irritation that Alex had killed him before they arrived. The frustration toward him was building. Alex patiently waited for everyone to calm down.
But first — dinner. Only after the meal, when the children had gone off to their rooms, leaving the adults to handle "adult matters," they gathered again in the living room. Alex began to share what he had learned from the priest's memories. The girls listened, sighing heavily as they slowly grasped the scale of the threat.
They started to understand — this whole nightmare was far bigger than they had ever imagined. Before meeting Alex, none of them had suspected that other worlds existed, or that there were beings so powerful that entire universes were nothing more than dust beneath their feet.
"Yeah... Who would've thought everything would change like this. You've already said that this Dark Lord is dangerous, but realizing that he destroyed entire universes before even coming here..." Ada sighed deeply, leaning back in her chair.
"No kidding. The universe isn't nearly as bright as it seems at first glance," said Chun-Li, shaking her head.
"But at least we have a powerful husband who can handle all of this," Shizuka said with a smile.
"Exactly," Rei agreed. "Saving universes is Alex's job. We'll take care of all the losers."
Alex just rolled his eyes at the girls' words, saying that this was his job and that he could handle it on his own. Though he didn't object — on the contrary, he was glad the girls still decided to help however they could.
He preferred to tackle these kinds of tasks alone. Alex wasn't the type of hero to drag his family into everything, only to accidentally put them in danger. If he could handle something on his own and keep his loved ones safe in the process, he'd do it without hesitation.
Still, even a little help from the girls warmed his heart. He was genuinely grateful for it. He had never intended to involve them in danger without proper preparation. Alex had always wanted each member of his family to do what they truly loved. He never asked, and never would ask, them to save the world with him — that burden was his, and his alone.
He smiled as he watched the girls discussing their next steps and how best to proceed to keep everything on track. Leaning back on the couch, he listened to their conversation with a satisfied look.
It had already been a full week since the "family council," where the girls unanimously decided to leave the upcoming problems in Alex's hands. During that time, the settlement had grown rapidly thanks to coordinated work and efficient resource management.
Although Alex had declared that he wouldn't help — saying it was time others learned not to rely on him for everything — as often happened with him, what he said and what he did were two very different things. The very next day, he noticed that the improvement work was going too slowly and, without hesitation, decided to get involved.
Alex was a man with "golden hands." Together with his three assistants, he began helping with the construction of houses, building them to withstand the harsh climate conditions that could strike the settlement at any moment. In addition to standard homes, Alex also began constructing dwellings that resembled hobbit houses built into hills.
The books he gave to Takashi, Kota, and Jonah quickly made their rounds. Some guys even tried to impress their girlfriends by proving they were handy and capable. But reality, as it often does, had its own plans. In the end, blueprints for all the buildings — both regular and hobbit-style — were posted publicly so that everyone would understand what and how things needed to be done. Still, the bulk of the work was carried out by Alex, his three assistants, and the construction crew.
In addition to the houses, Alex took on the task of creating a new generator for the settlement — so people wouldn't have to rely on candlelight and fireplace warmth. In truth, he did everything he could to ensure others' comfort, despite his bold claims to the contrary.
He also introduced the locals to things like basements and food preservation, explaining why such practices were important. Even with electricity, it didn't mean they should haul in dozens of refrigerators — those machines couldn't guarantee food freshness for long anyway.
He entrusted the greenhouse project to Saya — the girl eagerly agreed and, having taken it on from the very first day, was determined to see it through. Thanks to her efforts, the greenhouses were built quickly, and by the end of the week, the first crops could be planted.
However, without fresh water, that was impossible. A special trench had to be dug to store it. Each day was filled with work from morning till night. And when the sun dipped below the horizon, everyone would gather around a large campfire — simply to sit together, talk, and relax. These evening gatherings quickly became a beloved tradition.
Those who didn't know how to help would go hunting deeper into the peninsula or on Unimak Island itself. There were no problems with food: aside from the supplies they brought, successful hunting and fishing provided plenty of provisions.
Morning hunts or fishing trips became part of the routine — a good way to start the day before work. The martial artists in the group, of which there were quite a few, were especially active. These guys couldn't sit still, and their competitive spirit was triggered by just about anything. Chopping down trees, digging holes for hobbit homes — everything turned into a competition and, at the same time, a workout.
But Alex always won. After a few confident victories, no one wanted to compete with him anymore — something the girls often teased him about. Alex spent his days in their company, sometimes going out on hunts with Chiquita and Valmet.
Rebecca, however, was no longer allowed to hunt — because of her impatient nature. Once she caught prey, there was barely anything left of it. So hunting was officially off-limits for her.
While some managed the domestic side of things, a group of experienced soldiers was in charge of the settlement's defense. Building walls, setting traps and turrets — all of it was overseen by professionals like Price, Lehm, and Melnik. They did an outstanding job, efficiently delegating tasks among their teams.
For Alex's group, it had been a tense and eventful week — they worked until sunset every day, steadily moving toward their goal. But for one man, this week had become a living hell.
Caleb Williams — the head of the Corporation of Evil's analytics department. From the very moment Alex appeared on their radar, Caleb had deemed him the greatest threat. For Caleb, the week hadn't just been a nightmare — his downfall had started even earlier, from the moment the world began to shift. His carefully constructed chess game had started to collapse, the pieces falling one by one like dominoes, and he was steadily losing control over the board.
Like a snowball rolling downhill, the catastrophe grew: an unknown virus had infiltrated the Corporation's systems, and branches across the world were losing contact one after another. Some were attacked by out-of-control undead, others were overtaken by traitors who had founded a cult worshipping the Marker.
Realizing everything was collapsing, Caleb tried to regain control. He sought to uncover the source of the disaster — why the branches were falling, why the leaders were betraying their cause. And when he discovered that the Marker and religious fanaticism were behind it all, Caleb resolved to get to the bottom of it.
He devoured all available data, scoured archives, and studied forbidden research. But the deeper he dug, the more he realized how terrifying and consuming the abyss of knowledge could be. He no longer noticed when days and nights blurred together. Sleep vanished from his life. The line between reason and madness grew ever thinner.
Each answer gave birth to dozens of new questions. In desperation, Caleb used a backdoor in the system to gain access to the servers of the cult-controlled branches. He searched for answers but only found more questions… and increasingly disturbing anomalies.
He stopped monitoring the current world situation and no longer showed up at briefings. The abyss of the Marker was consuming him. He was teetering on the edge between researcher and fanatic, between control and obsession. His inner compass wavered, and Caleb himself began to suspect he was going insane.
It began with a faint whisper — like a breeze in a sealed room. Then came vague, fleeting images that vanished the moment he tried to focus on them. The nightmares followed. He would wake in a cold sweat, unable to remember what he'd dreamed, but with his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
He ignored the warning signs and kept digging. He rarely left his quarters anymore and was almost never seen in the command center. When someone did catch a glimpse of him, there was nothing left of the man Caleb used to be. Once sharp, neat, and commanding respect with his very presence — now he looked disheveled, unshaven, with a lifeless stare. He was barely recognizable.
But Caleb didn't care. He needed answers, and he was willing to pay any price.
The visions grew clearer, the whisper louder. The nightmares never ceased. As an analyst, Caleb knew this was the cost of his obsession. The answers he so desperately sought were now consuming him from the inside.
He began seeing the Marker's symbols on the walls and ceiling. Even with his eyes closed, they haunted his mind. In sleep, he saw a distant, shadowy planet — so alien and terrifying he could not find words to describe it. Its image was burned into his memory, and each awakening brought a fresh wave of panic.
One day, he tried to draw it on paper. He didn't know what planet it was or why its image tormented him so, but he saw it every night.
Symbols, silhouettes, incomprehensible writings, and nightmares became Caleb's daily reality. And then, on one of those mornings, he awoke from another nightmare… and saw something he was never meant to see.
A figure. A silhouette. At first, he thought it was a lingering dream. A hallucination. A figment of his exhausted mind. But the silhouette didn't vanish. It kept returning… and each time, it was closer. It followed him. Watched him. Spoke to him.
And the closer it came, the clearer Caleb could hear its voice. A voice he once knew. A voice he had tried to forget.
The gestures, the walk, the tone… everything about this person felt painfully familiar.
And the voice kept whispering:
"You wanted the truth, Caleb… Then see it through to the end."
Caleb Williams — a man known by all. Second only to the enigmatic Director, a figure once striving to bend the world to his will — now sat in the half-darkness of his own quarters. His office was buried beneath sheets of paper depicting a planet and strange symbols that covered the Black Marker — ancient script whose meaning had been lost in the abyss of centuries.
Caleb's face bore an expression of deep exhaustion, bordering on madness. He no longer remembered the last time he had truly slept. Only a few weeks had passed since he began seeking the truth, yet to him they had stretched into an eternity. His skin had grown pale, his eyes bloodshot from insomnia, a thick stubble coated his face, and his hair had become messy and unkempt, losing its former precision. The once-elegant leader had become a man on the edge.
He sat at his desk, clutching his head in his hands. His inflamed eyes were fixed on one particular drawing: an image of the planet, and upon its surface — a towering obelisk. But this obelisk was unlike the others. It stood on four massive legs, reminiscent of crab-like claws, wrapped in coarse, armored shell plating. And just beneath its peak glowed a sinister orange eye with three blades.
The longer Caleb stared at the image, the harder it became to look away. He hadn't even realized when he had drawn it — it had emerged during a half-conscious trance after yet another nightmare.
"Caleb, my dear… you need to rest. The answers will come when the time is right," a woman's voice spoke gently from somewhere behind him.
Caleb didn't move. He didn't turn his head — not just because the drawing held him in a hypnotic grip, but because he didn't want to see the one who spoke.
When he first began noticing the silhouette of this woman, he had thought it was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, brought on by sleepless nights. But the shadow grew clearer… closer. At first, just a flicker of shape glimpsed beyond corners. Then, lips moving as if trying to say something. Every time he approached — she vanished. Yet each time she returned, she became more distinct. And each time, her voice grew clearer.
The silhouette belonged to Elizabeth Williams — his late wife, killed in a car accident.
Now her image haunted him, whispering riddles and promises.
"Caleb, my love, you need to rest… These drawings aren't worth your time. Accept what you must do…" Elizabeth's voice whispered behind him.
He could feel her touch—cold, almost real. But he knew: it wasn't her. Ever since she had "come" to him, she'd kept saying the same thing—about what he must do… and that he had to accept it with all his soul.
"Caleb… don't you want to be with me again? Make the choice—and we'll be together forever. Years, centuries, millennia will pass… but we will remain side by side. There will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more separation. Isn't that why you started all of this? You wanted humanity to ascend… So let it happen. Just accept your purpose. Make us whole…" Elizabeth whispered, like a devil murmuring sins into his ear.
"Shut up…" Caleb whispered.
"Just do it, Caleb…"
"I SAID SHUT UP! Get out! Disappear! You don't exist! You're dead! And you're not coming back! Enough of this nonsense… You're not Elizabeth! You're a fake!" he roared, hurling her away from him.
"Caleb, my love… How can you say that? It's me, Elizabeth. You swore to be with me forever. Accept your fate—and we'll never be apart again. We'll become part of something greater… where even death holds no power over us. No one will fear loss ever again. All it takes is to do what has been destined…"
"Stop talking about fate! The day that crash happened, I stopped believing in it! In fate, in gods, in higher powers! No matter what you say—I won't follow that path. I'll find the truth… I'll open the gates and uncover everything! To hell with fate… and to hell with you! Because you are not my wife!" he shouted, grabbing the letter opener and pointing it at the apparition.
Elizabeth didn't flinch. A gentle smile spread across her face, sending a chill down his spine.
"This is your destiny, Caleb. To make us whole. The Day of Convergence is near. And you, my love… you are the main actor in this story. You will become humanity's savior. You will ascend… become a god. People will revere you as the one who gave them salvation from death itself."
She looked at him with adoration, as if gazing upon a messiah.
And Caleb… Caleb trembled on the edge. In his hands—a knife. In his mind—madness. In his heart—pain and rage.
Caleb stood with a grim expression, still holding the letter opener pointed at the woman who wore the face of his dead wife—Elizabeth. Every word she spoke, every gesture, echoed painfully in his mind, like claws scraping glass. The headache that had tormented him for days now intensified, building into a throbbing pulse in his temples. He clung desperately to what remained of his sanity, refusing to surrender to the sweet-talking voice of his dead wife.
He could feel it—behind her words was a lie. A deep, ancient lie that had already deceived many. And her talk of fate, of purpose—it carried far more weight than she pretended. Caleb knew: this wasn't a hallucination, not a product of his exhausted mind. It was something else. Her phrase—"Make us whole"—had appeared in the recordings of Marker cultists, always spoken before their madness… before their fall.
He didn't know what exactly lay behind those words, but he felt it—the truth was close. And despite everything, he had to reach it while he still had the ability to think.
He looked into Elizabeth's eyes again. There was no life in them, only emptiness—as if he were staring into the pupils of a puppet, mercilessly controlled by someone from the shadows. Yes, her voice and gestures were eerily similar to the real Elizabeth, but he knew: it wasn't her. This being had never been his wife. Even her soft, gentle voice no longer touched the heart that had hardened in cold determination.
He lowered the knife. The burst of rage had cleared his mind slightly. Caleb took a deep breath and turned back to what truly mattered—the search for the truth. Trying to ignore the whispering in his ears and the flickering of mysterious symbols before his eyes, he began collecting the drawings scattered across the floor. His fingers trembled, but he kept working, stubbornly returning to his notes, ignoring the ghostly voice behind him.
And at that very moment, beyond Caleb's understanding, the gears of the final act began to spin faster...
The one Alex had thought was merely a pawn in a chess game between two powerful beings turned out to be a key player, one on whom the outcome of the grand game, orchestrated by the Minister of Monoliths, depended.
But even if Alex had known that—he still wouldn't have wavered. He had already prepared his moves, set his traps, calculated every step ahead to prevent the Minister from bringing his plan to completion. For the Minister wasn't merely seeking victory—he craved an ending in which all of humanity would collapse into despair, realizing their struggle had been nothing but a farce.
While one man, Caleb, slowly lost his mind fighting for fragments of truth, others reveled in small victories of their new life.
A week had passed. The work in the settlement was progressing well: houses had been built, greenhouses sown, and the first sprouts had already begun to emerge. People were tending to the crops, caring for the first domesticated animals capable of providing them with meat, milk, and eggs.
Alex and the others were inside a newly constructed building designated as the Council—a place where pressing matters were discussed and decisions made. Thus, the first organized governing body was established to coordinate settlement life and wisely distribute resources and responsibilities.
They didn't yet know that the end was drawing near. And the mysterious act that the Minister of Monoliths had been striving for was about to begin…
Alex stood with a lazy expression near a round table, upon which a map of the peninsula they had settled on was being projected. Over the past week, numerous expeditions had been carried out into the surrounding area to explore the land. Thanks to these scouting efforts, they had discovered livestock for breeding and reserves of grain suitable for planting and consumption.
In essence, a colossal amount of work had been accomplished in just a week—resources and time had been wisely distributed, the settlement built, and daily life organized. Only minor tasks remained now, which could be completed gradually, without any rush.
"Hard to believe it's already been a week since we got here," Price said with a cheerful smirk, holding a cigar in his hand. "All I can say is: we've done a damn fine job."
"How many times do I have to tell you—don't smoke indoors, old man. You're not alone here," Saya grumbled, covering her nose from the smoke.
"Sorry, little girl," Price chuckled, putting out the cigar. "I just never thought my life would bring me here."
"Price is right," Yuriko said gently, stroking Saya's hair. "One way or another, we've achieved a lot. People have a roof over their heads, food, and most importantly—a safe place where they can live without fear. Sure, the other survivors haven't joined us yet, but we're ready for that too."
"And what about you, our great leader who worked harder than anyone?" Lehm asked with a smirk, looking over at Alex.
Alex calmly scanned the faces of everyone present.
"I think everyone did great. Each of you contributed. Most of the heavy lifting is done, now we just need to polish the details. But we have a new task ahead of us. Over this week, we've explored the peninsula thoroughly. Everything that could be found—we've found. Now that the settlement is in order, it's time to move forward."
He turned his gaze to Price.
"Price, were you able to get in touch with your friend at the military base in Anchorage?"
"Unfortunately, no," Price replied, crossing his arms. "Still no signal. I tried reaching him through the old military channels—nothing. But knowing that stubborn bastard, I'm sure he's fine. He's tough as a cockroach—doesn't die easy. Most likely, he organized an evacuation in the early days and holed up at the base. So there's nothing to worry about just yet."
"That's good to hear," Alex nodded. "In that case, I suggest we shift our focus to Unimak Island. There are bound to be abandoned military facilities there. We might find supplies—maybe even weapons and ammo. We've got enough for now, but my reserves aren't endless. Plus, there's a chance we'll find other survivors."
"Maybe we'll even get lucky," Koko added, leaning on the table. "And meet people who took shelter at the bases. Odds are decent."
Alex and the others nodded in agreement. The discussion continued, and before long, a decision was made—to begin moving inland toward Anchorage in the coming days. Planning took several hours.
Once everything had been decided, Alex headed home with the girls. Those who found the discussions boring had left earlier, leaving all the responsibilities on Alex's shoulders—and on those who could endure such exhausting conversations.
They walked through the newly rebuilt settlement, which was gradually turning into a proper small town. Streetlights glowed, children laughed and ran about. It felt as if the zombie apocalypse had completely bypassed this place—and that was exactly the kind of world Alex was striving for. A world where people didn't live in fear of every rustle in the dark.
Brunhilde held onto Alex's arm, walking beside him step by step. On his other side, Yuriko held his hand, her face glowing with a calm, peaceful smile.
The air was chilly, so everyone had thrown on warm clothes. Once home, they took off their outerwear and headed to the table—to have dinner and discuss plans for the next day with the rest of the girls.
To be continued…
+3 Chapters on my Patreon: p*treon.com/GreedHunter