Scully suddenly jerked awake. Looking about her for the alien spirit, she realized she was alone in her room. Brushing her hair from her eyes she told herself it must have all been a dream. Then she felt the tears still wet upon her cheeks. But how could this be true? Her eyes sought the clock on her bedside table and the glowing numbers indicated that it was 10:11 pm. So she had either imagined the entire incident or she had slept through the whole day and into the next night. That was hardly likely and yet here she was. Glancing back at the clock she noted the time...10:12 pm. Well, there was one way to find out. Patiently watching and willing the numbers to change, Scully was rewarded when the 2 became a 3 and the predicted hour arrived. And....nothing. She must have been dreaming. A vivid dream but a dream nonetheless.
A noise from the far side of the room caught her attention and she whirled as the presence of a frightening alien filled her bedroom doorway. She recognized this alien from her own experience. Clearly, this was the alien spirit from the present which Mulder's ghost had foretold. Shrinking back from the clawed hand that reached out toward her, Scully addressed the alien. "What do you want from me? If it is to show me more visions then we might as well be about it since this night will be best done." The movie alien beckoned to Scully, "You must take my hand and we will then be transported." Reaching out to grasp the long, green-fingered hand of the spirit, Scully continued her journey.
Following the now familiar shift and whirl of cool misty haze, Scully found that she and the alien had settled in a dark alley behind an abandoned warehouse. The particular warehouse was not familiar but the setting was. How many times had she and Mulder tracked a mutant or alien to an abandoned warehouse and found themselves on some final battlefield. But Scully no longer believed in aliens and monsters. She had rationalized everything that she had once seen and experienced down to a compact thought that she could easily dismiss with a wave of her hand. It was how she got through the days, then months, then years since her partner had disappeared. If Mulder had lost his faith and belief, then maybe she had never been wrong all the times she told him there weren't aliens and that everything could be explained once you had all the facts at hand. Science and logic were her close companions in the days following Mulder's passing. Scully's thoughts were interrupted by a roaring sound as the ground trembled beneath her feet. Rounding the corner of the building and bearing down on her and the spirit was a giant, green, mutant monster of some sort. Probably something that Mulder could have found a reference on or maybe he would have already had an old case file he could have produced. But that didn't matter to Scully. Not now. She didn't believe in this monster, live or Memorex. Raising her hand in a dismissive gesture, Scully blocked both the idea and her view of the monster in one motion. And with that, the spirit touched Scully's shoulder and they were transported from the alley.
A cool breeze seemed to wash over her as they passed through space, finally settling outside a dreary building on a darkened New York City street. "This way," said the alien as he lead her into the building to a smoke-filled office. Inside, a small group of men sat and discussed their chances of retaking power. "Our numbers have been drastically reduced but there is still a chance to undermine the aliens and possibly capture more power for ourselves." The men seemed worn and nearly defeated and yet the power hungry gleam of greed was in their eyes. Scully heard a weasely man address a distinguished gentleman, who was obviously their leader, in an obsequious manner. Strughold. "Of course," Scully said aloud, "this is what remains of the Syndicate. And clearly they are trying to rebuild and regain their power. But this is no longer my concern." The alien watched Scully's recognition and refusal of responsibility in silence. He tapped her shoulder and offered his hand to her once more. In a whirl of mist and cold air, they left the hazy NY office.
As the mists surrounded her, Scully hoped this was the last vision she would have to see for the night. Between this and the recent visit from Mulder's ghost, too many memories of her past partnership had been resurrected. She was beginning to feel that there was too much work that had been left undone. Too many battles that they had not fought. But how was she supposed to have continued on her own? Mulder's passion was part of what had driven her as far as she had gone in the X-Files division. When his belief and passion had cooled, she had fought it at first, feeling that they should continue with the work. Then when his very life had been extinguished, she had eventually given in and given up. Who was this alien being to make her remember? What right had any of these spirits to question her choices and her life? Turning to confront the alien spirit with these questions, Scully realized the being was gone. In fact, she was back in her bedroom, clutching the blankets on her bed rather than an alien hand.
So the spirit was gone, if it had ever been there. Scully tried to pretend she believed in this possibility but, with the past two nights, her ability to delude herself was becoming difficult. But she did seem to be alone once more in her bedroom. Which meant, if Mulder's ghost had all his predictions fulfilled, she had one more spirit to entertain before she could rest. As she turned her head, she could see the glowing numbers on her clock - 10:13. At that moment, Scully realized she was not alone in the room. She could feel the presence of another but could not yet see the spirit. Waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room, Scully sat in silence, hearing only the sound of her own breathing.
Then she saw the third spirit. It was a small, childlike alien. "Are you the third spirit whose coming was foretold?" Silence surrounded the fading sound of Scully's words. "Will you not speak to me," asked Scully. But the spirit said nothing, raising only its small hand in a gesture that invited Scully to follow. Gathering her resolve to be finished with this spirit and the entire business, Scully got up from her bed and reached a hand out to touch the arm of the silent alien. As she felt the texture of the sleeve's material, complete and absolute darkness fell.