Disclaimer – While I truly wish it were otherwise, I do not own the rights to any of the fandoms included in this story, including Kantai Collection and Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They belong to people far more creative than I am, and I hope they don't mind me playing in their sandbox.
I'm adjusting the BtVS timeline to a more modern date to line up better with Kantai. This is YAHF, yet one with a twist, I hope. Comments, compliments, insults, feedback, snide remarks, attempted witticisms, all are welcome.
Prologue
Location – Unknowable
Time – Irrelevant
The room, if it could be described as something as mundane as a mere room, was chillingly cold, dark, and endless. The only light came from a nearly infinite number of varicolored pinpricks that seemed to float within in ever-changing patterns. Glowing wispy clouds drifted about seemingly at random, coalescing and dissipating in patterns and rhythms undiscernible to mortal eye. There were no floors, walls, or ceilings yet the sense that this was, in fact, a room of some sort still prevailed to the limited senses of mortality. If one were to examine the dots of light, they would find them comprised of countless trillions of smaller pricks of light that were stars and galaxies, at the scale of the room even super groups of galaxies were infinitesimally small. This was eternity, or at least a true representation thereof. And it was the playground and battlefield of the true greater gods.
There was a single figure within the room at the moment, seemingly gazing at a single one of the tiny pinpricks of light. The figure was indistinct, with no fixed form. It shifted, flowed, morphed, coalesced and faded. No mortal eye could truly comprehend the form, but there was a sense of change, of impermanence, of chaos. The most perceptive might say there were two faces, back to back, one male and one female.
It was the face of a true deity, albeit a relatively weak one in the grand scheme of the cosmos. Janus, God of Change and Doorways. And he was not happy. Change was being rejected, Doorways were being sealed. Both faces scowled. A tiny pulse, imperceptible to mortal senses, and he paused, seemingly waiting.
A faint distortion flickered, for a span of time immeasurable by mortal instruments. And another, and a third. And then the faces slowly smiled, a cold, cruel, almost gloating sort of smile. An indistinct hand reached out, cupping the pale dot in an almost gentle, loving caress. An infinitesimally small tendril of power grew, shifted, morphed… and then engulfed the tiniest fraction of that tiny dot. A strangely harmonic voice could then be heard.
Oddly enough he was handicapped by his own immense power. More than the tiniest, faintest, mildest bit of it injected directly into the mortal realm would reduce it to primordial chaos. True gods generally dealt with truly cosmic concerns and forces while leaving the millennia to millennia affairs of the various realities to lesser beings. But he could safely apply that tiny fragment of power through his mortal worshippers, and slightly more by tapping into naturally occurring wellsprings of mystical power.
"… Just a little twist… a little shout…"
This was going to be good.
Location – Sol System
Time – Unknown
A cluster of beings hovered above a pale blue marble of a planet, gazing with cold, calculating eyes. Most mortals who knew of their existence mistakenly considered them forces of 'light' or 'good', but in truth they were forces of total and unrelenting Order, Order under their heel, and order under their control. They were the ultimate fascists in many ways, disguising their nature beneath the façade of opposing darkness and evil. The truth was that the forces of evil, numerous as they were, were predictable and easily accounted for in their plans. It was humans who had to be forced into obedience for they were infuriatingly prone to chaos and change. And it was the actions of humans which brought them to this point.
"Our plans have been disrupted." Came one voice.
"Destiny has been denied." Came another.
"Our Balance has been threatened." Came a third.
"Arrogance." Came yet a fourth.
"They must learn their place." Came an ephemeral murmur from the fifth.
"They advance too quickly, soon they shall not need us." The first voice intoned.
"Unacceptable." Agreed the second.
"Our tool refused to accept her destiny." The fourth voice said.
"The Line has been split." Came the third.
"Balance must be maintained." Murmured the fifth.
Then all five voices seemed to join into one chorus. "Humanity must be put back in its place. Destiny has been denied, a new destiny begins. So we have spoken, so we intend, so it shall be."
With a flash of light a bowler-hatted man in an ill-fitting and horridly out of fashion suit shimmered into existence before the five figures.
The Balance Demon known as Whistler was unsurprised; he had expected this summons ever since that annoying brat had broken the prophecy and revived the even more irritating blond Slayer. He knelt before his masters, before the Powers that Be.
"Know now Our will. The demons bound in the depths of the Abyss shall be released. You shall command them. You shall return humanity to proper subjugation to the will of Destiny. Crush them, without mercy, until the surviving remnant knows its proper place. The Balance must be preserved, at all costs." Came the echoing chorus as the Powers spoke as one.
Whistler said nothing, merely rose and bowed deeply before vanishing once more.
This was going to be bad. But not, perhaps, as bad as the Powers intended.
Neither the Powers nor the agent would ever realize that they had been observed, for the true gods were as far above the Powers that Be as they were above mortals. And they had plans already in motion.
Location – Abyssal Trench
Time – Six Months Ago
Whistler floated in the Stygian depths, unharmed by the crushing pressure and uncaring of the lack of light. Balance Demons were tougher than that, he more than most due to his direct connection to the Powers That Be.
He was also a creature of actual Balance and neutrality rather than pure order, unlike his masters, and as he floated there he considered and planned how to carry out their will within his own nature. He would raise the Abyssal demons as his masters demanded, that was a given, but his own nature would require that there be a counter. Not necessarily one that could defeat the plan, for what would be the point? But one that would have a fighting chance. Balance required it.
Unleashing the Abyssal demons always required placing them into the metaphysical forms of monstrous creatures of the sea. By forcing the formless creatures into these templates the Powers could both control them and send them back into the Abyss when the need for them had passed.
In the past, this had taken the form of massive sea serpents, or massive squid or octopi. But humans today did not fear such creatures. Modern humans would just shrug and send out their industrial trawlers and fishing vessels and comment on whether or not the monsters tasted good with Chianti. Therefore a more modern twist was called for, and in that same twist could be found the balance that Whistler required by his own nature.
He spoke, in a tongue unfathomable to humans, his voice echoing oddly in the darkness of the deep. Before him shadow forms began to gather, growing more and more solid as the inhuman chant continued. Then Whistler expanded his senses as the growing, swirling concentration of eldritch energy slowly opened a multitude of portals deep within the sea. This had to be done just right. Balance would not be satisfied if there was too small of a metaphysical immune response, but Whistler had served the Powers for so long that he could not conceive of defining balance as a true correlation of force. Thus he had to ensure that there would never be enough to rob his masters of their desired victory and so he carefully expended the last dregs of the arcane power to seal one particular gateway with bars of hellish iron so that none could pass.
It was oddly appropriate, or so he thought, that the homeland of the two mortals who most irritated him and his masters would be rendered crippled and unable to respond to the threat he was unleashing. The most powerful nation of mortals on Earth, rendered helpless and supine before this threat. The irony tickled the Balance Demon's fancy and he never once considered that his actions could possibly have wider repercussions. After all, he was even blinder to the machinations of the greater deities than his masters were.
His rolling, guttural chant finally finished with a snarled command, and Whistler sat himself on a basalt throne carved from the living bedrock of the Abyssal Trench as the now fully corporeal forms of the Abyssal demons began to rise towards the surface. Bestial, twisted, insane… yet shadowed by forms of the past that they fit oh so imperfectly. And completely subservient to his will.
In ancient days these demons were called Leviathan, and were thought to be the instruments of the gods' wrath. In truth, they had ever been the tool of the Powers, used whenever they could get away with it to try and smash humanity into compliance with their will. The true gods had punished the Powers once before, the last time the leviathans had been unleashed, but the Powers were convinced that the gods were no longer paying attention. After all, they hadn't stopped any other of the Powers' schemes since then.
Let the games begin.
Location – Earth
Time – 5 months, 3 weeks ago to 1 week ago
"This is a CNN Breaking News Alert. No definite cause for the destruction of hundreds of ships over the past week has yet been confirmed. Sources at the Pentagon have confirmed, however, that the same unknown forces which have sunk so many civilian vessels are also responsible for the complete loss of the USS Washington, USS Carl Vinson, and USS Stennis battle groups. We are now sadly able to report that contact has been lost with the USS Roosevelt and her battle group as of 10 AM Eastern Time this morning. There is a briefing scheduled at the Pentagon this evening, and President Obama will reportedly be addressing the nation tonight. Back to you, Wolf."
"Fox News Alert, Boston Harbor is burning at this hour following a bombardment by the enigmatic threat known as the 'Abyssals'. Early reports are that evacuation procedures were mostly successful due to the nearly three hour warning from P-3 patrol planes over the Atlantic. No word on casualties however property damage is estimated in the hundreds of millions of dollars at this time. This is only the latest in a series of bombardments from the Abyssals of port cities around the world.."
On the screen was a live shot from a news helicopter showing the entirety of the waterfront ablaze, the burning hulk of USS Constitution barely visible through the flames.
"… not sure, Rachel. Initial reports are that these… can muss you? kanmuso, thank you. Initial reports are that they have repelled attacks in Tokyo Bay and around the Japanese island of Kyushu. There is speculation that the Japanese might have found a counter for the Abyssal threat."
"Thank you, Katy. Producers are telling me… OK, on the screen now are the first images from a news conference from Yokosuka, Japan, introducing these kanmuso, which I'm told translates to 'ship girl'…? "
"The latest summoning attempt has, unfortunately, failed. Attempts will continue, but we regret to report that all attempts to summon kanmusu of our own have failed for unknown reasons." The spokesman looked down at his notes, flipping the page while the reporters stirred at the unwelcome news. "Efforts to reactivate coastal defense batteries are continuing and production has started on replacement cannon for them, we hope to have the first battery online in several days."
Location – Norfolk Naval Shipyard Summoning Pool
Time – 5 days ago
A bubble, maybe two. It would take a high definition camera to be sure, but there definitely was a bubble. Which meant this latest summoning attempt was yet another failure in a long depressing string of failures. Every other nation, using this precise ritualistic technique, had managed to summon ship girls. Every single one. And the imagery was always roughly the same, the chanting ends, the summoning pool erupts in a massive explosion of bubbles, and then in the middle of the pool stands a ship girl. Yet all they had ever been able to do is get a bubble or two, no explosion of bubbles, not even a small froth of bubbles, just a lonely bubble that pops and vanishes leaving nothing behind. It was extremely frustrating.
Location – Sunnydale High Library
Time – 4 days ago
With class in session the library was quiet, peaceful, and serene. Just like Giles liked it. His books were safe for now from the grubby hands of inconsiderate colonials and he could take the time to get in some reading. A far too brief respite in a usually quite chaotic day. School was still in session, despite the massive disruption of trade and commerce, in an attempt to keep things as 'normal' as possible.
Then the doors banged open.
"Ripper!" came a quite unwelcome voice from his past, causing Giles to stand up almost violently and leave his office.
Before he could say anything, though, the thoroughly unwelcome intruder in his sanctum sanctorum continued "I need your help, old boy."
Ethan looked like his normal insouciant self, at least to Giles' eye. "What are you doing here, Ethan." He ground out from between clenched teeth. His former, very former, friend was decidedly not wanted here but Giles was willing to at least listen to him.
Then Ethan did something Giles never expected. His shoulders slumped and he took a deep breath. "Saving the bloody world, Ripper, saving the bloody world and giving the sods behind this bloody mess a black eye in the process." He squared up, took another breath, and then looked Giles in the eye. "Janus came to me a few nights ago while I was planning a quite wonderful little prank and gave me some quite specific instructions. And I realized, Ethan old chap, you can't do this all on your own. So here I am. You want to help stop the Leviathans or not?"
"Dear Lord, Leviathans?" Giles stressed the plural, frowning as he turned to reenter his office. "I was under the impression that there was only ever one, likely the same creature as Litanu from Canaanite texts."
"The same, only there were far more than one. The entire story about God destroying the female of the species in order to prevent them from taking over is a load of old tosh that probably made the old Hebrews feel better about things. The same demons showed up as the Kraken in Greek myth and in several other forms globally. Nearly every giant sea monster of legend can be linked to the species." Ethan replied, following Giles into the office and sliding into one of the chairs, looking exhausted.
Giles frowned as he sat himself, busying himself for a moment with drawing out an ancient yellowed tome and opening it. "So why are you asking me for my help?" He said, frowning as he turned to the appropriate page and started making notes on a notepad.
Ethan chuckled, leaning back. "I need two things from you. That you make sure your charge participates in that officious toad's little program for Halloween, and you make sure that that Xander chap is here in the library with us to help us with a little ritual." His grin became positively malicious. "M'lud, I have a cunning plan." He continued, completely deadpan.
Giles, of course, rather predictably groaned and glared at his former friend for the horrid Blackadder pun. And Ethan, utter scalawag that he was, only laughed.
"Out with it." Giles replied in a tightly controlled voice as he resisted the urge to start cleaning his glasses in exasperation.
"It's…" Ethan started, only to be interrupted by the library doors banging open.
Buffy, closely followed by Willow and Xander, stormed in, all three looking thunderous. Giles simply leaned back slightly, and smirked a bit as he looked at Ethan.
"GILES!" Buffy shouted, slamming her bag down on the large central table in the library and stopping at the office door. "Please tell me I can slay Snyder… wait who is this?" the blond slayer narrowed her eyes and glared at Ethan, strangers talking with her Watcher while he had *those* books out was rarely a good sign and usually meant yet another apocalypse was in the works, not that there wasn't one underway that she couldn't fight already.
"You must be Ripper's Slayer." Ethan said, rising to his feet and making a quite florid bow. "Ethan Rayne, at your service." He even made to take the slayers hand for a continental kiss while waggling his eyebrows outrageously, primarily because he knew it would thoroughly annoy Giles.
Sure enough, out came the cloth and those lenses were being polished. "He is assisting me in the matter of those abominations attacking the shores." Giles said a bit stuffily, even as Buffy blinked and let Ethan buss her hand. "And don't call me Ripper."
"Wow, G-man, another member of the Tweed Brigade from Old Blighty?" Xander snarked with a smirk that didn't quite reach his eyes as he looked over the newcomer.
Ethan laughed before Giles could object. "Oh, Ripper and I go way back, to when he wore leather jackets and jeans rather than tweed and chased birds rather than books." He replied, holding out a hand to the teen. "So you are the one who impressed Janus." His grin was a trifle malicious as he completely ignored the fulminating glares from Giles and shook Xander's hand. "Breaking a prophecy and giving the Powers behind it collective bleeding ulcers." He reached out and clapped the startled teen's shoulder with his other hand as he moved out into the main area of the library.
"And now they've responded. The Leviathans have always been their ultimate tools, their weapons to cow upstart mortals into submission to their vision of absolute order. The Gods demonstrated their displeasure with the Powers the last time they unleashed the Leviathans. With divine help, humanity was victorious and drove them back into the depths." He paused for a moment as he turned to face the group and repeated himself. "We humans beat them once, now we'll have to do it again in Tantrum 2, Electric Boogaloo."
Buffy glanced over at Willow and Xander, then folded her arms and tilted her head a bit. "So how do we take down these Levi's Tans?" she asked, tapping one foot lightly. The fact that there was an apocalypse going on that she could do absolutely nothing about wore on here badly.
Ethan chuckled. "I've already put things in motion. I believe you were complaining about a certain troll-like individual when you came in?" His smirk was now positively blinding.
"I was planning on vegging out for the night! Giles told me the undead stayed inside and I wanted a break." Buffy was now positively pouting. "And that absolute troll decided we all had to participate in this ridiculous Trick-or-Treat event! Not like there is any candy to be had to begin with!"
"Precisely." Ethan said, still smirking. "You two ladies…" he gestured to the previously quiet Willow and Buffy. "Pick out whatever costume strikes your fancy tomorrow." He then turned slightly "Xander, you'll be helping me with that, I've got permission to recruit a few students. Then on Saturday you'll be assisting Ripper and I with a ritual. Those young ladies with the desire and willingness to fight will find themselves drawn to certain costumes, and the ritual will… enable them to join the battle."
He then paused, looking down for a moment, then shrugged and straightened up, his expression abruptly becoming quite serious. Which alarmed Giles to no end… Ethan… Serious? "Unlike those order-obsessed parasites of the Powers That Be, Janus believes in free will. Will you, Buffy Anne Summers, of your own free will take up the burden of battle against Leviathan?"
Buffy narrowed her eyes and appeared to be about to blurt something out, before she stopped as she took a moment to think before nodding to herself, straightening up, and looking Ethan straight in the eye. "I was Chosen, now I Choose. I will."
Nothing appeared to happen, but Ethan nodded as if something profound had as he turned to the redhead. "Will you, Willow Danielle Rosenberg, of your own free will take up the burden of battle against Leviathan?"
Willow didn't even need to hesitate, she was Buffy's best friend and would follow her anywhere. "I will." She replied, if in a less resolute tone than the Slayer, still firmly enough.
In the distance a bell rang, audible to everybody in the library at a level beyond sound. And in a realm beyond time, beyond space, a two-faced deity of change and transitions smiled, with both of his faces. "Done. And Done."
Location – Abandoned Warehouse in Sunnydale
Time – 3 Days Ago
Spike had walked in on many an unusual scene in his decades as a Vampire, almost all caused by Drusilla. But this was definitely in the top ten. The eccentric, to put it mildly, seeress was dancing around with a pair of… garment bags? And skipping, do not forget the skipping, and singing a wordless song to herself. In between one twirl and the next she threw one of the bags at Spike, who caught it reflexively.
"Oh Spike! Miss Edith says we must skip and play and celebrate Samhain!" she trilled, skipping over to him and attempting to grab his hands. "Or it will be ashes, ashes, we all fall down!" she giggled, twirling away. "Do you love me Spike?"
Spike, well-used to her ways, smiled a bit. "From eyeballs to entrails, Dru, you know that." He said, entering the room fully and cocking an eyebrow at the bag.
"So you'll play dress up with me and we'll skip and dance and not fall down when the naughty stars get a spanking. Miss Edith says the stars have been very naughty stars and Miss Edith doesn't want us start blowing in the wind." She beamed at him, and Spike sighed.
It was ridiculous, but he'd done many even more ridiculous things for his Sire, and he knew her madness and oracular visions well enough to take messages from 'Miss Edith' more seriously than most would think. After all, those messages had saved both of them many times over.