Sam stepped up beside Dean as well, his voice low but firm. "Everything we've done, every person we've saved, proves that your script isn't the only answer. We can choose."
The man listened quietly, slowly stirring the macaroni that had already gone cold on his plate with his fork.
"Choice," he repeated softly, as if savoring the taste of the word. "It always brings... surprises."
He said nothing more. Pulling several bills from his pocket, he tucked them beneath the plate, rose to his feet, and pushed open the door like any other ordinary diner, disappearing into the blinding sunlight of the highway.
The sounds that had vanished from the restaurant came rushing back.
"He just left like that?" Dean could hardly believe it.
Castiel took a deep breath. "He saw the variables. That's enough."
The newly built hunter training camp was located in a valley, its hastily erected obstacles and shooting range still carrying the scent of freshly turned earth.
The first group of selected hunters was practicing in teams, their shouts and scattered gunfire echoing through the valley.
Then, suddenly, the sky darkened.
Not with storm clouds. One side blazed with piercing golden light, while filthy dark-red clouds churned on the other.
Angels unfurled wings of light and hovered in midair.
Layered chants descended from the sky like a tangible prison, instantly slowing the people on the ground. Demons, meanwhile, poured from the valley's shadows and cracks in the earth, howling as they lunged at the caught-off-guard hunters.
Angelic power and demonic black mist—two utterly different forces—now intertwined into a deadly net.
"Hold the line! Find cover!"
David's roar rang out amid the chaos. Wielding a battle axe, he cleaved down a black-eyed demon charging at him.
But the gap was too great. More and more people fell,