Bab 15: Shadows of the Apocalypse
"What's the use of fighting?" Charlie Bradbury mumbled to herself as she tightened the laces of her worn-out boots. Her eyes scanned the horizon, searching for any sign of movement amidst the desolate landscape. The last vestiges of a world once thriving with life had turned into a wasteland of dust and ruin.
Bobby Singer leaned against the crumbling brick wall of what was once a bustling supermarket. His shotgun rested on his shoulder, the weight of it a grim reminder of the world they now inhabited. "We fight to survive, kid," he said, noticing Charlie's furrowed brow. "And maybe, just maybe, to find a way to fix this mess." His voice was gruff but held a hint of hope that was rare these days.
The silence between them was interrupted by the distant rumble of an engine. Both of them tensed, listening as the sound grew louder. It had been weeks since they'd heard anything other than the cries of the damned and the occasional angelic patrol. Bobby raised his hand, signaling for Charlie to stay put, and moved cautiously towards the source of the noise.
As the dust settled, a battered pick-up truck emerged from the haze. It looked like it had seen better days, but it was a sight for sore eyes in this desolate place. Bobby squinted, trying to make out the figures in the cabin. They were human, that much was clear. The driver spotted Bobby and slammed on the brakes, the truck skidding to a halt. A young woman with a bandana over her nose and mouth jumped out, holding a baseball bat like it was her last lifeline.
"You're not one of those winged freaks, are you?" she demanded, her eyes darting to the shotgun.
Bobbys hand remained steady on the weapon. "Nah, darlin'. Just two stragglers like yourself."
The woman visibly relaxed, but her grip on the bat didn't loosen. "Callie. I'm with the KC survivors."
"Bobbys eyebrows shot up. "KC? You guys are still holding out?"
Callie nodded. "Barely. But we've got information you might need."
Curiosity piqued, Bobby lowered his gun. "What kind of information?"
Callie glanced around nervously. "Not here. It's not safe. Get in the truck."
Without a moment's hesitation, Bobby and Charlie climbed into the back. The driver, a grizzled man with a weather-beaten face, hit the gas and they sped off into the dust. The engine's roar was a stark contrast to the deafening silence they'd grown accustomed to.
Callie sat in the passenger seat, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "You're not going to believe this," she began, her voice trembling. "But we've seen him."
Bobbys eyes narrowed. "Seen who?"
Callie took a deep breath. "Lucifer. He's alive. And he's here."
Bobbys grip on the shotgun tightened. "That's impossible," he said, his voice a mix of skepticism and dread. "Michael killed him years ago."
Callie turned to face him, her eyes wide with urgency. "I know what we're up against. I've seen those wings, heard the whispers of his name. Trust me, Bobby, it's him. And he's got someone with him. Some girl, and it looks like she's been fighting him tooth and nail."
Bobbys skepticism morphed into concern as he pictured the fallen angel. "What's this girl's story?"
Callie shrugged, her grip on the bat loosening slightly. "We don't know much. She's human, or at least she looks it. And she's got a mean left hook. Every time we've caught a glimpse of them, she's been fighting like a wildcat. Like she's got a personal vendetta against him."
Bobbys eyes narrowed further. "And you're sure it's Lucifer?"
Callie nodded, her voice shaky. "The way he moves, the power... it's all him. And the girl, she's got a fire in her eyes, like she's not just fighting to survive, but to take him down."
Bobbys mind raced with questions as the truck bounced over the uneven road. Who was this girl? Why was she with the Devil? And more importantly, why was she fighting him? The thought of someone standing up to the embodiment of evil in this godforsaken world was both terrifying and exhilarating.
Their journey was cut short by a sudden squeal of brakes and the jolting of the truck. Bobby and Charlie were thrown forward as the vehicle came to an abrupt stop. The driver swore, jumping out of his seat to inspect the front end. "What the hell was that?" he bellowed.
Callie was the first to spot the figure in the dust, staggering to his feet. "Oh my God, it's a person!" she exclaimed.
The driver's eyes widened. "Could be a trap," he warned, his hand reaching for the door handle.
Bobbys instincts screamed the same, but something in Callie's voice compelled him to trust her. He hopped out of the truck, Charlie on his heels, and they both took off towards the figure, their boots kicking up clouds of dust with each step.
As they approached, Bobby's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be. But the closer they got, the more the man looked like... him. "Bobby, " he heard the man groan, and it was his own voice. The world around him blurred, and suddenly, there were two Bobby Singers standing in the wasteland.
The man on the ground, looked up at him with a mix of confusion and pain. "What the...?"
Bobbys mind raced, trying to make sense of the impossible. "I'm... I'm Bobby," he stuttered, pointing to himself, then to the other man. "And you're..."
The man on the ground, also named Bobby, managed a weak grin. "Guess we've got ourselves a situation," he said, wincing as he sat up. His eyes searched Bobby's face, looking for any sign of deceit or malice. "You're not one of those angel copycats, are you?"
Bobbys brain was a tornado of confusion, but he recognized the genuine fear in the man's eyes. "No, I'm the real deal," he assured, offering a hand to help him up. "And this is Charlie."
Suddenly, the air crackled with a surge of power that sent chills down their spines. The landscape around them blurred and shifted, and when it settled, they were no longer alone. Sam, Dean, Jack, and Castiel emerged from the dust, their weapons drawn and their expressions a blend of shock and relief.
"Two Bobbys?" Sam questioned, his eyes flicking between the two identical figures before him.
Dean, who had rushed to help the injured Bobby to his feet, stepped back, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Guys, what's going on?"
Jack, his eyes wide with astonishment, stared at the two Bobby Singers. "I-I don't understand," he stammered, his hand hovering over the angel blade at his side.
Castiel's gaze was equally bewildered. "This is... unexpected," he said slowly, his mind racing through various scenarios, trying to make sense of the situation.
The injured Bobby looked from one face to the next, his eyes lingering on the weapons pointed at him. "Look, I don't know what game you're playing," he began, his voice strained, "but I'm just trying to get by in this mess of a world."
Apocalypse Bobby's grip on his gun didn't waver. "Where'd you come from?" he demanded, his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
The original Bobby held up his hands, the shotgun now hanging at his side. "Long story, but we're on your side. We're from another Dimension," he said, hoping the words would bring some clarity to the chaos.
The two groups of hunters stared at each other across the dusty divide, the tension palpable. The air was thick with the scent of fear and disbelief. The injured Bobby, who had introduced himself as Bobby from another dimension, watched as the other Bobby's finger hovered over the trigger of his shotgun. The other Bobby, known as Apocalypse Bobby, studied him with a mix of skepticism and curiosity.
"Our Charlie would be freaked out," Dean said, breaking the silence, his gaze flicking to Charlie, who was standing wide-eyed beside him.
Charlie looked from one Bobby to the other, her mind racing. The thought of an alternate version of Bobby, of any of them, was almost too much to handle. She took a step back, trying to process the impossibility before her. "You mean, like... a doppelgänger?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the whistling wind.
"Sort of," the injured Bobby said with a nod. "But with a lot more baggage."
Callie stepped forward, her baseball bat still at the ready. "Okay, let's get this straight," she said, her voice firm. "Who are you? And what do you want?"
Sam took a step forward, his hand resting on the hilt of his knife. "We're the Winchesters," he said, his eyes never leaving Apocalypse Bobby.
Dean nodded, his hand still hovering over his holster. "Sam's right. We're the ones who should be asking the questions."
"Winchester," Apocalypse Bobby repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and anger. "That's impossible. He died in 1973."
The injured Bobby's eyes widened, his grip on the baseball bat tightening. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, his voice rising.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look of alarm, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place. "Wait," Sam said, holding up a hand. "John Winchester? Our dad?"
The Apocalypse Bobby nodded, his eyes never leaving injured Bobby's face. "Yeah. And if you're telling the truth, then you know that means we've got a serious problem on our hands."
Callie looked around at the group, her eyes narrowing. "What problem?" she asked, her grip on the baseball bat not loosening.
"The kind that doesn't come with a warning label," Apocalypse Bobby said grimly. "If this is true, then we've got two sets of us, and that's never good news."
Castiel, who had been observing the exchange with his usual stoic demeanor, finally spoke up. "We are indeed from another dimension," he confirmed, his eyes flicking to the sky as if searching for answers in the dust-choked heavens. "But our presence here is not by choice. We are looking for Lucifer and a Girl named Sydney."
Callie's eyes widened in recognition. "Sydney?" she echoed. "The girl who's been fighting him? That's her name."
Dean frowned, his eyes still on the injured Bobby. "Fighting him? What do you mean fighting him?" he asked, his voice low and intense.
Callie stepped closer, her bat still ready for action. "We've seen them together, but she's not with him willingly. She's got some serious beef with him. And she's holding her own."
The driver, an older man named Larry, nodded in agreement. "Saw her punch him more times than I can count," he said, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and horror. "It's like nothing I've ever seen before."
The two Bobby's exchanged a look filled with unspoken understanding and a hint of concern. The situation was spiraling out of control, and they had to get to the bottom of it.
"Lucifer in our world is dead," Larry spoke up, his voice firm and unyielding. "Michael took him out a long time ago."
The injured Bobby, took a deep breath and met Larry's gaze. "Look, I know what you're saying, but the Lucifer we're dealing with, he's alive and kicking," he said, his voice filled with a weariness.
Jack stepped forward, his eyes blazing with determination. "We need to find her," he said, his voice urgent.
"Slow down, kid," Apocalypse Bobby said, his eyes on the horizon. "If she's fighting the devil, she's got more guts than I've seen in a long time. But we've got to be smart about this."
Callie nodded, her eyes reflecting the urgency in the air. "The last time we saw them was when they were heading towards Michael's old stomping grounds," she said, her voice tight with tension. "But that was days ago."
Jack's expression grew pained. "What if she's hurt?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sam stepped closer, placing a firm hand on Jack's shoulder. "If Lucifer wanted to hurt her, he already would have," Sam said, his voice filled with the quiet confidence that came from years of battling the supernatural. "Whatever's going on, she's still fighting. That means she's got a plan, or at least a reason to keep going."
Larry, the grizzled man who had driven the truck, cleared his throat. "Look, we've got a camp back in KC. We can get you guys sorted out, maybe patch up our Bobby here," he said, nodding towards the injured Bobby. "And we can figure out our next move."
The two Bobby's shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them. The injured Bobby took a step back, his eyes never leaving the group. "Thanks, Larry, but we've got to find Sydney," he said, his voice firm. "We can't risk leading any trouble to you guys."
"You're not going anywhere without backup," Callie said, her voice leaving no room for argument. "Not in this world."
Apocalypse Bobby nodded in agreement. "We've got your six, as long as you fill us in on what's happening with this dimension-hopping nonsense," he said, his eyes still locked on the injured Bobby.
"Deal," the injured Bobby said with a firm nod, wincing as he adjusted his position. "But first, let's get out of the open. Too much can go wrong out here."
The group of survivors and hunters piled into the truck, the air thick with unspoken questions and fear. As they drove through the desolate wasteland, the scenery passed by in a blur, each twisted tree and crumbling building a stark reminder of the world's fate. Charlie couldn't help but cast sidelong glances at the other Bobby, her mind reeling from the revelation of a parallel world.
The KC survivors' camp was a stark contrast to the desolate landscape, a bustling hub of activity with makeshift tents and barricades made from salvaged materials. The sight of it brought a glimmer of hope to their weary eyes. They were greeted with suspicion by the guards, who only lowered their weapons when Callie vouched for them.
Inside, they were led to a medical tent, where a doctor quickly assessed Bobby's injuries. He was a man of few words, his expression grim as he worked. Charlie hovered anxiously, her mind racing with thoughts of their mission and the mysterious girl named Sydney.
While Bobby was being tended to, the others gathered around a makeshift map spread out on a folding table. Callie spoke rapidly, filling them in on the latest sightings and rumors. The camp buzzed with whispers of angels and demons, and the tension was palpable. Sam and Dean exchanged glances, their minds racing with the implications of what this could mean for their own world.
"So, this Sydney," Charlie said, her eyes on the map. "What's her deal?"
Jack swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to the ground before meeting hers. "She's... important. To me."
"Okay, okay," Charlie said, holding up her hands. "But how'd she end up with the devil?"
Jack took a deep breath, his eyes reflecting the painful memories. "A man, a powerful one, opened a rift between dimensions," he began, his voice shaking slightly. "Lucifer fell through, and he... he took Sydney with him."
The room went silent as the gravity of the situation sank in. The doctor looked up from his work, his eyes filled with a mix of disbelief and horror. "Lucifer? Here?"
The injured Bobby nodded, his voice strained as the doctor bandaged his wounds. "Yeah, and we need to get her back."
Meanwhile, across the blighted landscape, Lucifer and Sydney stumbled upon an unexpected figure standing tall amidst the ruins: Apocalypse Michael. The archangel looked every bit the monster they had heard tales of, his wings a tornado of shadow and his eyes burning with a rage that could incinerate worlds.
"Love what you've done with the place," Lucifer quipped, his sarcasm a clear mask for his unease.
"Love what you've done with the place," Lucifer quipped, his sarcasm a clear mask for his unease.
Sydney, bruised and exhausted, braced herself next to him, her eyes never leaving Michael. Despite her condition, she had a fiery determination in her gaze that belied the fear she must be feeling.
"Who are you?" Michael's voice boomed like thunder across the wasteland, his eyes burning with an intensity that made the very air seem to tremble.
Lucifer's smile was cold and mocking. "Don't you remember your own brother, Michael?" he taunted, his eyes gleaming with malevolence.
Sydney's heart raced as she took in the terrifying sight of Michael. She'd heard the whispers of his reign of terror, the countless lives he'd claimed in the name of the apocalypse.
"Lucifer," Michael growled, his voice a thunderous echo across the barren wasteland. "I killed you once before. What sorcery is this?"
The fallen angel chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with a mischief that made Sydney's skin crawl. "You wish," he replied, his wings unfurling with a dramatic flourish. "This is the charm of being the Devil. You can't keep a good angel down."
Sydney took a step back, her eyes darting around for an escape route. The air was thick with the promise of a fight, the very ground seeming to tremble with the anticipation of a cosmic battle. "We need to go," she hissed to Lucifer, her voice low and urgent.
Lucifer's smile never wavered, his eyes still on Michael. "And leave without saying hello to dear old brother?" he said, his tone mocking. "How rude."
Sydney's eyes narrowed, the anger in her voice unmistakable. "You don't need to be here for this," she told him, her hand hovering near the angel blade she kept hidden under her jacket.
Lucifer's smirk grew wider, his eyes sparkling with a malicious delight that sent a chill down her spine. "Oh, but I do," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "This is the part where I remind everyone who's really in charge."
Sydney felt a flicker of hope. If Michael was here, then maybe there was a chance they could put an end to this nightmare. But as she took a step forward, Lucifer's hand shot out, his grip like iron around her wrist. "Don't get any ideas," he hissed, his eyes never leaving Michael.
The archangel took a step closer, his wings unfurling even further, casting a terrifying shadow over the two of them. "You dare to show your face here?" he bellowed, his eyes blazing with divine wrath.
Lucifer's smirk remained in place, his grip on Sydney's wrist tightening. "You're looking good, Mikey," he said, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Missed me?"
Michael's gaze never left his brother's, the fury in his eyes growing with each passing moment. "You are not welcome here," he declared, his voice a thunderous roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.
Lucifer's grin grew wider, a clear challenge. "And yet, here I am," he said, his eyes glancing at Sydney for a brief second. "With a little... leverage."
Sydney's heart hammered in her chest as she realized the gravity of the situation. If Michael saw her as a threat, as a tool of the enemy, she might not make it out of this encounter alive. But she knew she couldn't let fear control her. Not now.
Her eyes locked onto the angel blade hidden beneath her jacket. It was her only hope of escape, her only chance to end this before it began. With a deep breath, she yanked her hand free from Lucifer's grip and lunged forward, the blade glinting in the dim light.
But Michael was too fast. His hand shot out, catching her wrist in mid-air with a vice-like grip. "What treachery is this?" he thundered, his eyes alight with the fire of his fury.
Sydney's heart skipped a beat as she stared into the eyes of a being that had once brought about the end of the world. "Let me go!" she snarled, her voice filled with a fierce determination that belied her human form.
Michael's grip tightened, his gaze piercing through her. "What is your purpose here?" he demanded, his voice echoing through the desolate wasteland.
Sydney's eyes flashed with anger and defiance. "I'm here to stop him," she said, jerking her head towards Lucifer, who watched the exchange with amusement.
Michael's grip tightened further, and she felt her bones grind together. "Why should I trust you?" he asked, his voice rumbling through the wasteland.
"Because if I was with him," she replied, gritting her teeth, "you'd already be dead."
Lucifer's amusement vanished, his eyes narrowing. "Careful, dear," he murmured, his voice a venomous whisper. "You wouldn't want to ruin our little surprise."
Surprise? The word hung in the air, thick with malice. Sydney's mind raced, trying to piece together what he could mean. But before she could speak, Michael's gaze softened slightly, and he released her wrist. "You claim to be an enemy of the one who brought about the apocalypse," he said, his voice still a thunderous rumble. "Prove it."
With a nod, Sydney slammed the angel blade into the ground between them, the metal quivering with power. "I've fought beside humans, against his demons," she said, her voice steady. "I've seen what he's done, the lives he's destroyed."
Michael's gaze flickered to the blade and then back to her face, searching for the truth in her eyes. "Why should I believe you?" he demanded, his voice still a tempest of doubt and anger.
Sydney took a deep breath, her eyes never leaving Michael's. "Because he killed my parents," she said, her voice raw with pain. "In front of me. He destroyed everything I ever knew. And he tried to kill me just to get to his Son."
The archangel's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes shifted, a flicker of understanding passing through the rage. "Your kind," he said, his voice softer now, "have suffered greatly at his hand."
Lucifer stepped forward, his own smile vanishing. "Oh, come now, Michael," he said, his tone mocking. "You don't really believe her, do you? She's just a pawn, a mere mortal with delusions of grandeur."
Michael's gaze never left Sydney's face, his eyes searching hers. "Is this true?" he asked her, his voice still a thunderous rumble.
Sydney nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Every word," she whispered.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, the only sound the distant howl of the wind through the desolate landscape. Then, with a suddenness that took them both by surprise, Michael's hand shot out, grabbing the angel blade from the ground. The air crackled with energy as he held it up, the blade blazing with the light of a thousand suns.
"You dare bring such a weapon before me?" he thundered, his eyes ablaze.
Sydney's heart hammered in her chest as she watched Michael's hand tighten around the hilt of the angel blade. It was the weapon of angels, a tool of divine justice, and in her hands, it had been a symbol of hope. Now, it was a declaration of war.
"It's not for you," she said quickly, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her insides. "It's for him." She nodded at Lucifer, whose eyes had narrowed to slits.
Michael's gaze flicked to the blade and back to her, his expression unreadable. "And what makes you think you can wield this against the one who once wielded it himself?"
Sydney's chin lifted. "Because I've seen his true face," she said, her voice resonating with the weight of her conviction. "And I've seen the price of his lies. I'll do whatever it takes to stop him."
Lucifer's smile twisted into a snarl. "You think you can win, don't you?" he spat. "But you're just a human. A mere plaything."
With a flick of his wrist, Michael sent a bolt of divine energy hurtling towards them. The air around them crackled and sizzled as the light enveloped them, and in an instant, they found themselves in a stark, cold cell that looked like it had been carved from the very fabric of the wasteland. The walls were made of a material that seemed to absorb sound and light, leaving them in a disorienting silence and darkness.
Sydney stumbled back, her hands shooting out to brace herself against the unforgiving surface. The chains that bound her wrists were made of the same gleaming material as the angel blade, burning cold against her skin. "What have you done?" she hissed at Lucifer, her eyes flashing with accusation.
He shrugged, his smile never fading. "It's all part of the plan," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a sinister excitement.
Sydney's eyes narrowed, the chains around her wrists biting deeper as she struggled against them. "What plan?" she demanded, her voice echoing off the cold, unyielding walls.
Lucifer stepped closer, his eyes alight with a malevolent glee. "Why, the best part," he said, his smile widening. "The part where I show everyone what I'm truly capable of."
Sydney felt a cold shiver run down her spine as she took in her surroundings. The cell was sealed tight, not a crack or crevice to be found. It was clear that this was a prison designed to contain beings of immense power, not mere mortals. "What are you talking about?" she demanded, her voice echoing off the walls.
Lucifer leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek despite the frigid air. "Oh, you'll see," he whispered, his eyes gleaming with a dark promise. "I've been playing nice for too long. But now, with Michael here... well, let's just say the gloves are coming off."
Sydney's thoughts raced as she stared into the abyss of his pupils. "What do you mean?" she breathed, her heart hammering in her chest.
Lucifer's smile grew colder, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light. "Your precious Jack," he said, his voice a velvet purr. "My dear son. How is he?"
Sydney's heart skipped a beat. She had to keep her cool, not give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd hit a nerve. "You tell me," she shot back, her voice tight with anger. "You're the one who's been playing puppet master."
Lucifer chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "The great Nephilim hero. So eager to save the world. So blind to the truth."
Sydney's anger grew with every syllable. "You're the one who's blind," she spat. "Jack is nothing like you. He has a heart, a soul. He's not a monster like you."
Lucifer's smile grew, his eyes glinting with a malicious light. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong," he murmured. "Jack is exactly like me. He just hasn't realized it yet."
Sydney's fury grew, but she kept her voice level. "You're wrong," she said firmly. "Jack is a good man. He's nothing like you."
Lucifer's smile never faltered. "Is that what you believe?" he said, his tone mocking. "How quaint. But tell me, what makes you so certain?"
Sydney's eyes flashed with a sudden anger. "Because I know him," she said, her voice firm. "Because I've seen what he's done, what he's capable of."
Lucifer's smile grew wider. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice a mocking purr. "The love of a mortal. How quaint."
Sydney felt the rage bubbling up inside her, her eyes never leaving his. "Jack loves movies," she said through gritted teeth. "Fantasy movies, with heroes who save the world and crush the villains."
Lucifer's smile grew even colder. "How sweet," he said, his voice a knife's edge. "But tell me, what makes you think he's so different from me?"
Sydney took a deep breath, her eyes burning with determination. "Because he's thoughtful," she began, her voice steady. "And emotional. He feels things deeply, unlike you, who just uses emotions as a weapon."
Lucifer's smile remained, but she could see the flicker of annoyance in his eyes. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice silky smooth. "How utterly charming."
Sydney's anger didn't waver. "It's not what I think," she said, her voice cold and hard. "It's what I know."
"Jack would rather kill you," she spat out, her eyes never leaving his, "then hug you."
Lucifer's smile faded, his eyes narrowing to slits. "So he takes after you, then," he murmured, his voice dripping with spite.
"He doesn't even look like you," Sydney shot back, her eyes flashing. "and he has none of your coldness, none of your evil. He's kind, and brave, and everything you're not."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, his smile twisting into a snarl. "How dare you," he hissed, the very air around him crackling with power. With a flick of his wrist, a piece of a tree that had been lying on the floor of the cell shot through the air like a bullet. It slammed into the far wall with a deafening crack, shattering into splinters that rained down around them.
Load failed, please RETRY
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone