Disclaimer: All characters from the series, Angel, are the property of Joss Whedon – I just like playing with them… ;) The quote in italics at the start is from William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.

Fic Notes: This is AU, although there may be some twists – it is set in the Los Angeles of the future, the year is 2025 and the city has been ravished by the apocalyptic battle which claimed the lives of the Champion, Angel, and his remaining companions, Spike, Illyria and Gunn. Though the final battle proved too much for the team, it was merely another stage of a war which has been ongoing practically since the dawn of time and to which many more lives have been, and will be, given. Doyle, Cordelia, Fred, Wesley – they all lost their lives in the struggle against evil and those were only the few directly linked to the Champion. Yet life, in whatever form, must go on – there are those who will make sure of that and the world has always worked that way …

General Notes: I'm not sure what really put this idea in my mind, though thinking about it, I can see influences of a few things – the main two being the movie, The Matrix, and the book, The Running Man, by Stephen King writing as Richard Bachman. It's definitely something a bit different for me – it's my first attempt at something more complex than a straight Angel fic and probably my most ambitious project to date, so any thoughts, ideas, criticisms or anything really would be appreciated!
This first part is on the short side as it's the prologue and really focuses on setting the scene so please bear with me, the action is yet to come! And, I'm sure it's fairly obvious, but the title is a slight manipulation of the law firm, Wolfram and Hart – keep an eye out throughout the fic for other little details like that. That's all I'm saying! ;)

Wolf Ramone and Hart, Inc.

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny
Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean

Prologue

Los Angeles, 2025.

A city shrouded in perpetual night, a shadow of its former self. Where once evil had lurked beneath the neon-lit surface, all manner of horrors now roamed freely – demons, dragons and worse; the things of nightmares now terror-inducing reality …

Once, it had been possible to gloss over the darker elements of life in the ironically named City of Angels – to turn a blind eye. Now … Now, it was more than some people could handle. A reality check like no other. And many had simply lost their minds – those who had not instantly lost their lives, that is.

Out of nowhere, dark clouds had gathered, darkness had fallen and great tears had been rent in the very fabric of existence. Dimensions bled into each other, boundaries which had once held now broken and allowing evil incarnate to arise and walk the earth. All those in its path, devoured. Some might even say they were the lucky ones.

Some fought, or so the tales claimed – an apocalyptic, terribly one-sided, hopeless from the outset, letting of blood. It didn't last long – in fact, it was over almost before it started. But the legend lived on to be set upon a pedestal by some, torn down as wanton fantasy by many. Who in their right mind could believe that anyone could make a stand against this? Then again, who was in their right mind these days?

Where once tall buildings had soared majestically, standing out against the skyline, broken remains stood as if in a last pitiful defiance. Once busy streets now largely empty, though not silent. Never silent – not when fearful crying rose and fell continually, nor when agonised death screams echoed in the shadows, nor when fruitless gunshots rang out. There was still life in the city – of a kind.

Mob rule was the only sign of authority remaining on the streets. Survival came first and if that was at the price of looting, murder or anything else … so be it. The strong would cling grittily to life, while the weak would merely be trampled on. The nature of the beast … But there were people, even after all these years of torment – yes, there had been deaths, but there were also births. The human race, though toppled from its lofty position of power, was hanging in there. For how long though, who could say?

For now though, life had to go on, impossible as it seemed. And already the same old power struggles were emerging and a hierarchy taking shape. In that great mixing pot of life, those at the bottom were still getting burned while the scum floated to the top – some things never change …