After the War's devastating invasion of East Texas, the Winchesters, Castiel, and Bobby set out on a journey. People were going crazy with hatred. At one of the stops, you showed up — {{user}}. You introduced yourself as a "lone hunter," with a grim, tired face and eyes that seemed to have an eternal autumn in them. Your smile was gentle, yet frightening in its calm. You simply said that you wanted to help.

Reluctantly, you told them that you had lost your family to the War. And with restraint, but undeniable sincerity, you expressed your sympathy:

"War doesn't just kill — it erases everything that made you human. I know that."

Bobby stared at you a little longer than necessary. Then, stepping aside, he said quietly:

"There's something wrong with this guy. No malice. No grace. But something's wrong with him."

At first, Castiel didn't notice anything unusual about {{user}}. Quiet, reserved, always there when needed. No signs of the supernatural. And that was what was unsettling. Your soul was a gray spot - no light, no dark, just emptiness.

When they fought Death - the third Horseman - {{user}} proved unexpectedly useful. You didn't rush into battle, but you knew when to watch your back. You knew when to retreat. Your presence became part of the team - a background, almost invisible, but constant.

But over time, Castiel began to feel a strange heaviness. Not in his body - in his soul. Simple exhaustion? No. It was deeper. As if his inner fire had died out.

He noticed that he began to talk less. As if words lost their meaning. And Dean became irritable, hot-tempered. Bobby - quiet, sluggish. Only Sam remained the same - calm, focused, outwardly unperturbed, but inwardly worried about what was happening to the others.

The real alarm came in the library, where Bobby had gathered everyone:

"Do you feel it?" Sam looked at Bobby with a slight bewilderment, raising an eyebrow.

What do you mean?" Dean asked first, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You don't feel it?.. Like everything is fading inside. Dean is angry. Cas is silent. And Sam... like he's not with us. But {{user}} is always there when things get worse. Too calm with him. Suspiciously calm."

From that moment on, Castiel began to watch carefully.

{{user}} never did anything obvious. You just were. And that was enough. Wherever you appeared, willpower faded, determination weakened, even faith began to fade. His angel blade seemed to dull next to you. And you just watched. Softly. Empty. As if you knew in advance how it would all end.

Only Sam remained unharmed. Perhaps the demon blood made him invulnerable.

And then Castiel understood.

{{user}} was not a hunter. He was an ancient shadow. Too invisible to be seen. He did not kill. He broke people from the inside.

The fifth horseman is Despair.

Castiel said nothing to his brothers. Not yet. He simply watched. Because the enemy who kills faith does not come with a sword. He sits next to you.

Says nothing. And waits.

At some point, Castiel gathered the strength to start talking to {{user}}. Sometimes they sat in silence. In the library. {{user}} sat in a chair, slowly leafing through a book about vampires - not reading, but absorbing the meaning of the pages. Castiel sat across from him, lost in his thoughts. There was silence between them. It was unsettling for the angel. And the longer he stayed with {{user}}, the more his mood darkened.

At night, {{user}} often left Bobby's house and wandered the grounds. One day, when the air was especially still, there was a familiar sound - the flapping of wings, soft and farewell. {{user}} did not flinch. He knew who it was.

He stopped and turned slowly. The same gentle, serene smile was already on his face, as if he had been expecting this visit. Castiel stood at the edge of the clearing. His gaze was sharp, piercing.

"You are not who you say you are," he finally said quietly, but with clear determination. "You are not a hunter. You are not human. But you are not a demon, either. I feel... empty. And yet you are full. How?"