Sam came over and checked his pulse. "Weak, but stable. He needs treatment. We have to take him back to the guild."
Before he could finish speaking.
Castiel's body suddenly convulsed.
Violent full-body spasms began.
His eyes snapped open. His pupils had turned completely pale yellow, with no whites remaining—only a murky expanse of yellow.
The patterns beneath his skin surfaced again. This time, they were not black, but bright yellow, like red-hot wires embedded under his flesh.
"No..." Dean tried to hold him down, but Castiel's strength was astonishing. He easily broke free.
Castiel rose to his feet, his movements stiff, like a marionette.
He lowered his head to look at his hands, spreading his fingers and then clenching them, repeating the motion several times as if testing his control over this body.
Then he raised his head and looked at Dean and Sam.
There was no expression on his face.
No, it was not that he had no expression. It was a complete inhumanity, as though he were wearing a perfect but hollow mask.
"Castiel?" Sam asked tentatively.
"Castiel..." the being spoke. The voice came from Castiel's vocal cords, but its tone was flat and devoid of emotion. "That name... can still be used for now."
It—there was no other way to refer to it now—rolled its neck, and its cervical vertebrae cracked sharply.
"Thank you." The corners of its mouth pulled into a stiff curve, imitating a smile. "Thank you for helping me clear away those... impurities. Those weak, chaotic soul fragments. They only interfered with the signal."
It took a step forward.
A pale-yellow, ice-like hard crust formed on the ground beneath its feet, like alkali soil.
"Now, this shell is clean." It raised a hand, palm up, and a mass of dark-yellow energy immediately began