The two of them turned at the same time.
A figure was walking out of the lake.
Water dripped from his clothes, his steps steady despite everything. In the faint light, his face became clear.
Lucien.
For a moment, both Jamie and the detective just stared.
"...You're alive?" Jamie finally said, almost unable to believe it.
Then relief hit him all at once.
"You're actually alive!"
He stepped forward quickly, unable to hide his excitement.
Lucien wiped the water from his face and let out a small breath.
"Of course," he said. "You think I'd die that easily?"
Jamie laughed, though his eyes were still a little red.
For him, this wasn't just someone he had hired anymore. After everything that had happened, Lucien felt more like someone who had gone through life and death with him.
The detective stepped closer as well.
"What about Mary Shaw?" he asked. "And the dolls?"
Lucien glanced back at the burning theater in the distance.
"Gone," he said simply. "All of them."
The flames were still rising into the sky, lighting up the night. The place that had held the town's nightmare for decades was finally collapsing in on itself.
The detective let out a long breath.
That was it.
It was really over.
At least, that's what he thought.
Jamie noticed something first.
"You don't look good," he said.
Lucien's face was pale, his movements a little slower than usual.
"Let's get you somewhere to rest. You need to change—"
"I'm fine," Lucien cut him off.
It wasn't injury.
Just exhaustion.
Using that wind ability twice had drained almost everything he had. His body felt empty, like he had pushed past his limit and only just managed to stay standing.
Still, that wasn't what bothered him.
Something felt wrong.
He looked back at the fire again.
All the puppets had been destroyed.
Every last one.
Even the "perfect" doll had been smashed earlier.
By all logic—
That should have been the end.
But it didn't feel like it.
Lucien frowned slightly.
Something was missing.
He went over everything again in his mind.
The graves had been emptied.
The puppets had been gathered.
The theater had been burned.
Mary Shaw should have had nowhere left to hide.
So why—
Why did it feel incomplete?
Then something clicked.
Her body.
Lucien's eyes narrowed slightly.
The story he had heard earlier came back to him.
Mary Shaw's corpse had been turned into a doll… and buried.
But when they checked the cemetery—
That grave hadn't been disturbed.
At least, not obviously.
"Get in the car," Lucien said suddenly.
Both of them looked at him.
"Where?" the detective asked.
"Walker's funeral home."
His tone had changed.
Sharp.
Certain.
They didn't question him.
After everything that had happened, neither of them had the confidence to doubt him anymore.
The car started moving again.
Lucien leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.
His breathing slowed.
He needed to recover, even a little.
If he was right, then this wasn't over yet.
And if it wasn't over—
Then the next part would be more dangerous than everything before.
The ride was quiet.
At one point, Jamie glanced back and froze slightly.
Steam was rising from Lucien's clothes.
Not a lot.
Just faint.
But enough to see.
Within minutes, the water on his body had completely dried.
The detective noticed it too, but neither of them said anything.
They had already seen enough tonight.
The car finally stopped in front of the funeral home.
Lucien opened his eyes.
Some color had returned to his face, though he was still far from fully recovered.
They stepped out.
The night was quiet again.
Too quiet.
After a moment, the door opened.
Old Walker stood there, looking surprised.
"Lucien? You're back already?"
His expression quickly changed when he saw the others.
"What happened?"
"We'll talk inside," Lucien said.
Walker didn't hesitate. He stepped aside and let them in.
As they walked through the yard, Jamie quickly explained what had happened.
The fire.
The theater.
Mary Shaw.
By the time he finished, Walker looked completely stunned.
"You… ended it?" he asked quietly.
Lucien didn't answer.
Not directly.
Instead, he looked around.
Then asked,
"Where's Marian?"
Walker blinked.
"In the house," he said. "She's been much better lately. Ever since all this started ending… she's almost back to normal."
That made Lucien stop for a second.
"Better?" he repeated.
"Yes," Walker said. "She's calmer now. Doesn't talk to herself anymore. Doesn't go near the crows either."
That wasn't reassuring.
Not at all.
They entered the house.
A moment later, they saw her.
Marian.
She looked… normal.
Sitting quietly, a faint smile on her face. Nothing like the strange, unstable woman they had seen before.
When she noticed them, she stood up slowly.
"Lucien," she said warmly. "What brings you here so late?"
Her voice was calm.
Natural.
Perfectly normal.
Too normal.
Lucien looked at her for a few seconds.
Then—
He smiled.
A cold, knowing smile.
In the next instant, he stepped forward and grabbed her by the throat.
The movement was so fast that no one reacted in time.
"You've been hiding well," he said quietly.
His grip tightened.
"But not enough."
His eyes locked onto hers.
Sharp.
Certain.
"You're not human."