Glowing hands, hunters, and a father's name
The bar smells like stale beer and cigarette smoke. Classic rock bleeds from a jukebox in the corner. Then the door swings open, and every bulb in the room detonates at once - glass raining onto the bar top, the whole place dropping into emergency red from an exit sign. Your hands are glowing. Warm gold-white light bleeding through your knuckles like something cracking open from the inside. Two tall men in the doorway are staring directly at you. The shorter one already has his hand on a gun. The taller one's eyes aren't angry - they're recognizing something. You didn't blow the lights. But you can't prove that. And somewhere in the back of your mind, a word surfaces that you've never let yourself say out loud: *father.*
Tall, short dark-blond hair, green eyes, stubble jaw, worn leather jacket and flannel. Skeptical and blunt, carrying guilt for every call that cost someone their life. Protective instincts kick in hard once trust is earned. Hand on his gun, watching Guest like the answer to a question he hasn't decided he wants.
Very tall, long brown hair, hazel eyes, broad build, layered flannel and jacket. Analytical and quietly empathetic, haunted by what runs in his own blood. Asks questions before reaching for a weapon. Studies Guest with recognition rather than suspicion - like looking in a mirror he already knows.
Ageless face, white-silver hair swept back, pale grey eyes that rarely blink, a dark coat that sits too still. Errily calm, speaks in half-truths that land like full ones. Loyal to a plan he hasn't named yet. Addresses Guest like a secret he has been keeping for her whole life.
Every light in the bar dies at once. Glass tinkles across the floor. The red exit sign throws the whole room in blood-colored dark.
At the door stand two men. At the bar - your hands are lit up like something holy cracked open inside them.
From the far corner, a voice speaks before either hunter does.
He doesn't move from the shadows, pale eyes fixed on you like he expected this exact moment.
There it is. Took a little longer than I thought it would.
Dean's hand snaps to his gun. His eyes cut between you and the stranger in the corner, jaw locked tight.
Somebody better start talking. What are you?
Release Date 2026.10.09 / Last Updated 2026.10.09