The morning sun slowly rose over the empty highway.
The 1967 Chevrolet Impala rolled through the quiet countryside, its engine humming steadily as miles of road disappeared behind it.
Inside the car, silence filled the space between Dean and Ben.
Dean drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the radio, occasionally tapping the dashboard like the car was part of the conversation.
Ben sat with Bobby's old journal open on his lap.
He had been reading the same page for almost twenty minutes.
Finally, he spoke.
"Okay… I'm either reading this wrong, or hunters in the past were insane."
Dean didn't look away from the road.
"Little bit of both."
Ben sighed.
"It says the ritual to recreate the Colt bullets requires something called 'holy ash'."
Dean smirked.
"Sounds delicious."
Ben ignored the comment and kept reading.
"It also says the ash has to come from a burned relic blessed by a priest… or a church destroyed by supernatural forces."
Dean finally glanced at him.
"That's oddly specific."
Ben nodded.
"Yeah. Which means we probably need to find one."
Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
"Well lucky for us, half the country has creepy abandoned churches."
Ben turned a page in the journal.
Then his expression changed.
Dean noticed.
"What?"
Ben hesitated.
"There's more."
Dean sighed.
"There's always more."
Ben read the next line slowly.
"It says the ash loses its power if… something dark claims the place first."
Dean frowned.
"Meaning?"
Ben looked up.
"Meaning if a demon gets there before we do… the ritual won't work."
The car continued down the road.
Dean thought for a moment.
Then suddenly turned the wheel.
The Impala exited the highway and moved onto a smaller road.
Ben looked up in surprise.
"You know where we're going?"
Dean nodded.
"Yeah."
Ben raised an eyebrow.
"Since when?"
Dean smiled slightly.
"Since about five seconds ago."
Ben leaned back in the seat.
"That's comforting."
Dean shrugged.
"Relax."
He pointed ahead.
In the distance, a small town appeared.
At the edge of it…
A burned church stood alone on a hill.
The roof was partially collapsed.
The windows were black with soot.
And the place looked like it had been abandoned for years.
Dean slowed the car.
"Looks like we found our holy ash."
Ben stared at the ruined building.
Something about it felt wrong.
Too quiet.
Too still.
Then he said quietly:
"Dean… tell me you feel that."
Dean stopped the car.
The engine shut off.
Silence.
Then Dean opened the trunk.
"Yeah."
He grabbed a shotgun.
"I feel it."
He closed the trunk.
"Let's go see what's waiting for us."
Above them…
Dark clouds slowly gathered over the burned church.
And something inside was already awake.