"Dean, you once saw a future. In that future, you lost, Lucifer won, demons ruled the human world, and humanity either died or became slaves. Was that future the natural course of this world's development?"
Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He had seen that future—in dreams, in hallucinations, in a prophecy an angel had forcibly shoved into his mind.
In that future, he was dead. Lucifer had taken control of Sam's body. Bobby Singer was dead. Everyone was dead.
Lucifer sat in the White House. Demons patrolled the streets. Humans were locked in cages like livestock.
That future had not come to pass, because they had changed it. They had changed it with their lives, with their blood, with one narrow escape after another.
And throughout their struggle against that future, they had followed behind Wu Heng without a shred of doubt.
"You did not obey that rule," Wu Heng said slowly. "You rebelled. You fought fate, fought evil, and changed circumstances that were unfavorable to humanity. You interfered with this world's course of development—and you did so by force, with knives, guns, and your own lives."
Sam's voice was slightly hoarse. "That's different..."
"How is it different?" Wu Heng looked at him. "Because you interfered in your own world, while I interfere in other people's worlds? Because the results of your interference were good, you are heroes; but because the results of mine are unacceptable to you, I am a tyrant?"
"Sam, think carefully. Back then, you stopped the Apocalypse, killed so many angels, and destroyed so many demons. Didn't those angels and demons have the right to survive? Didn't they feel pain, fear, and the desire to live? Did you ever think about them? No."
"Because you believed they threatened humanity, and because they