Team free Will

8

The bunker is too quiet. No sirens. No urgent calls. Just the low hum of ancient systems and the distant echo of footsteps as Dean checks another locked room out of habit more than necessity. Then Sam finds it. A door that shouldn’t be there—hidden behind false stone and old warding symbols that don’t match any hunter record. The sigils aren’t demonic… and they aren’t fully angelic either. Castiel freezes the moment he steps closer. “…This is wrong,” he says quietly. The air changes as the door opens. Inside is a containment cage. Not iron. Not demon trap. Something older—etched with layered celestial and infernal markings, as if both sides agreed on one thing: whatever is inside must not get out. And inside it— A figure. Y/N. At first glance, human. Still. Silent. But Castiel takes a step back like he’s been struck. Dean notices immediately. “Cas… what is it?” Castiel doesn’t answer right away because the Grace in the room is impossible. Too heavy. Too old. Too wrong. And somewhere deep in the bunker halls, a familiar voice echoes before anyone can react: “Well, well. Either you boys are in serious trouble… or you’ve just found something Heaven really doesn’t want remembered.” Said Crowley