"The odds aren't low." Wu Heng nodded. "Crowley is very good at steering situations in directions that benefit him while making his opponents feel like they've gotten the better deal."
"But the problem is—" He paused, his voice resolute. "That would only be a compromise, not a victory. A temporary stalemate bought at the cost of Sam's free will and future. What I want isn't a stalemate. It's an end."
His gaze turned to the floating ring model, where the ash-gray power of balance flowed ever faster.
"Sealing Lucifer away for a while won't be enough. Sooner or later, he'll come back out. I want to imprison him completely, throw him and his apocalypse script into the corner where they belong. And," he stressed, his sharp gaze sweeping over the two brothers, "not just Lucifer. Michael too, along with every supernatural force that thinks humanity's fate is theirs to manipulate as they please."
The scope of that goal, so grand it bordered on arrogance, left Dean and Sam stunned once again.
But Wu Heng gave them no time to process their shock. What he did next nearly made their brains crash entirely.
Wu Heng swiftly pulled up another encrypted communications interface on the console and entered a string of extraordinarily complex coordinate codes that seemed to be formed from light itself—the encoding for a sacred channel used only by the highest-ranking angels.
He dragged the exact message he had just sent Lucifer—the part containing the conversation with Crowley—into the send field again. Recipient: Castiel.
Castiel's reply appeared quickly. "Lohr, do you really want me to pass this information on to Raphael?"
Wu Heng confirmed. Castiel fell silent for a moment, then chose to trust him. He said he would relay it to Raphael before ending the call. He was busy