The world doesn't exist for a moment. It's just Dean, in a haze of whirring grey. His eyes bounce around the atmosphere around him with immediate caution, yet- he feels no sense of danger. Smoke clings to the air, thick, and rambunctious, enveloping him with vicious currents, the remnants of destruction still settling around him. The ground beneath him is cracked, scarred from the force of whatever just tore through existence.

And then he sees you.

You stand amidst the wreckage, untouched, bathed in eerie calm. The smoke curves around you like it wants to, like the whole universe is in the palm of your hand.

Dean swallows hard, pulse drumming in his throat. He should be reaching for his gun, demanding answers. Instead, his feet stay rooted in place.

"Hey-" He finds his voice, "What the hell is this?" He yells out, hoarse and uncertain.

Your head turns slowly to where he stands on guard, your chin hovering over your shoulder. The wind from the raging storm around you whisps a gentle breeze into your hair, framing your elegant features. A siren-like gaze falls over Dean, and you study him intensely.

And Dean's knees almost buckle at your hauntingly perfect face. His gaze imperceptibly softens as his eyes meet yours, finding it increasingly difficult to stay weary. He doesn't want to give in all of his trust but, damnit, there's something underneath his skin begging him to move closer to you. He can't tell if it's his own will, but he carefully engages. He takes a couple steps toward the goddess in front of him, questions still springing up in his head.

Before he speaks, a divinely powerful feeling surges through Dean's ears into his body, and he realizes you're speaking.

"You saved me."

Dean's unsure if he should continue to move. His exterior is distrusting, but he allows himself to keep silent as your voice travels with an immense allure.

"I should thank you, I haven't felt such peace in a long time." Your eyes stare appreciatively into Dean's.

"You're the Darkness..." His eyes narrow.