The bunker shook with a deafening roar.
The stone floor split apart beneath Dean's feet as enormous celestial chains rose from the darkness below.
Each link was as large as a man's torso.
Ancient symbols, older than any language, glowed across the black metal.
Six chains.
Only six.
One hung broken, its shattered end disappearing into the abyss.
Dean stared at them in silence.
"...This is the First Gate?"
Malach nodded slowly.
His voice was heavy with regret.
"Yes."
Ben looked over the edge of the widening chasm.
He couldn't see the bottom.
Only darkness.
Endless darkness.
"...I suddenly miss ghosts."
Dean almost smiled.
"You say that every week."
The Covenant Blade pulsed with blue light.
The symbols carved into its blade began to glow brighter as Dean approached the edge.
Asterion watched him carefully.
"The Blade recognizes the Gate."
Dean looked down at the sword.
"Or the Gate recognizes me."
Asterion didn't answer.
The possibility had clearly crossed his mind.
The ancient chains rattled violently.
A deep rumble echoed from beneath them.
Not a roar.
Not an explosion.
A heartbeat.
Slow.
Powerful.
Alive.
Ben felt it through the soles of his boots.
"...Please tell me that's the bunker settling."
Malach closed his eyes.
"No."
Another heartbeat.
The lights flickered.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
Every book in the archive trembled on its shelves.
Then—
The voice returned.
Not through speakers.
Not through the air.
Inside their minds.
"Keeper..."
Dean instinctively gripped the Covenant Blade.
"I'm getting tired of everyone calling me that."
The voice ignored him.
"You carry the key..."
Asterion immediately drew his celestial sword.
Its white flames illuminated the chamber.
"Do not answer."
Dean frowned.
"I wasn't planning to."
The voice laughed.
A low, ancient sound that seemed to come from the Gate itself.
"You already have."
Suddenly—
The Covenant Blade slipped from Dean's hand.
It hovered in the air on its own.
Blue energy surrounded the blade as it slowly floated toward the center of the chamber.
Ben's eyes widened.
"Dean!"
Dean reached for it—
But an invisible force threw him backward.
He slammed into a stone pillar.
The Blade stopped directly above the First Gate.
The six remaining chains began to glow.
One after another.
The entire bunker vibrated.
Malach stepped forward.
"It's trying to judge him."
Dean looked up.
"Judge me for what?"
Asterion answered quietly.
"To see if you are worthy."
The blue light suddenly exploded.
Dean disappeared.
Everything went white.
When he opened his eyes...
He wasn't in the bunker anymore.
He stood alone on an empty highway.
Night.
The moon hung low above endless fields.
A familiar sound reached his ears.
An engine.
Dean slowly turned around.
His heart stopped.
Parked behind him...
Was another 1967 Chevrolet Impala.
Perfect.
Untouched.
The driver's door slowly opened by itself.
Someone stepped out.
Dean couldn't breathe.
A man in a worn leather jacket.
Short brown hair.
Green eyes.
A confident smirk.
Dean Winchester.
Not his uncle as a memory.
Not a ghost.
A vision.
The legendary hunter leaned casually against the Impala.
He looked at the young Dean for a long moment.
Then smiled.
"Took you long enough, kid."
The younger Dean stood frozen.
He had heard stories his entire life.
But nothing had prepared him for this moment.
His voice barely came out.
"...Uncle Dean?"
The older hunter chuckled.
"Good."
He folded his arms.
"At least Sam taught you some manners."
A warm silence settled over the empty road.
Finally, the younger Dean asked the question he had carried his whole life.
"...Were the stories true?"
The older Dean looked at the Impala.
Then at the endless road stretching into the darkness.
A smile touched his face.
"Most of them."
He looked back at his nephew.
"...The embarrassing ones?"
A beat.
Then he grinned.
"Especially those."
The younger Dean couldn't help but laugh.
For the first time in years...
The weight on his shoulders felt lighter.
Then the older Dean's smile faded.
He looked toward the horizon.
Something was coming.
His voice became serious.
"Listen carefully."
He stepped closer.
"This isn't Heaven."
The younger Dean frowned.
"Then where are we?"
The older Dean glanced at the empty road.
"Between choices."
He placed a hand on his nephew's shoulder.
"The Gate doesn't test your strength."
A pause.
"It tests your heart."
Before Dean could ask another question...
The distant sound of chains echoed across the highway.
The older Dean looked toward the darkness.
His expression hardened.
"...Looks like your test just started."
The road ahead slowly disappeared into a thick black fog.
And from within that fog...
A pair of burning blue eyes opened.