Earthquakes erupted without warning, tearing apart highways; sudden downpours triggered floods; and multiple "violent group incidents," reported only in vague terms, involved exceptionally brutal methods.
It was as if disasters had suddenly begun piling up.
"Damn it!" Dean viciously switched off the television and slammed the remote onto the table. "They're everywhere. We can't stop them at all!"
Sam curled up on the other bed, his face pale as he silently stared at the ceiling.
The demonic power within him stirred restlessly under the stimulation of the apocalypse's aura, though fortunately, the medicine Wu Heng had given him suppressed it as well.
Yet more terrifying than this bloodline's cravings was his mental exhaustion and confusion.
Just as his consciousness blurred and he gradually sank into sleep, the scene around him changed.
The shabby motel room was gone. He stood in a boundless field filled with blooming pale flowers.
The sky was the color of dusk, and there was no warmth anywhere.
A figure stood with his back to Sam, dressed in simple casual clothes and sporting short blond hair.
The figure turned around, revealing the face of middle-aged Nick.
But those eyes contained endless darkness, wisdom, and a profound sorrow that seemed born of being misunderstood by the entire world.
"Sam." Lucifer's voice was gentle and magnetic, like a kind, understanding elder calling out to him. "At last, we can meet face-to-face in our true forms."
Under Sam's wary gaze, Lucifer began to tell his story.
He spoke of how, in pursuing free will and truth, he had been banished from Heaven by that "tyrannical" Father God, forced to endure eternal loneliness and infamy.
He claimed that he did not seek to destroy humanity, this "crude creation." He merely wanted to correct the "mistake" God had made in creating mankind