Prologue
The light of Los Angeles was slowly fading, as night settle in. Five years had passed since the LA branch of Wolf Ram and Hart had been completely shut down. A battle of epic proportions had taken place, a battle that soon faded in the background. The official story was that a brief but violent gang war had devastated the city, when in truth; it had been horrors without name. Things which belonged only in the most horrible nightmares and things even worst.
Eventually, they had been gathered up, and sent back from the various dimensions from which they came, but the cost had been terrible. The side of good had lost many good warriors in those three weeks of hell, whereas, the forces of evil, even though having more loses, had a lot more minions than the Powers That Be. Amongst the fallen, were two champions. Angel and Spike had perished, saving many lives in the process. Their fate was being decided, still, after five years.
The Neutral Ground.
The Neutral Ground was a place where no one had anything to fear, from anyone. It had been created before the beginning of time, and would outlast it. Here, the Powers That Be and The First Evil could meet, without fearing any kind of treachery from their eternal enemies. There were laid the cold bodies of the two champions, seemingly asleep. The First Evil was exulting triumph, and of course, since it had struck a mighty blow at its foes.
"Why?" it said in a disincarnated voice. "Why would I allow one of them, and one is all I would ever consider, to come back amongst the living? He who I would choose, would only be, once more, a thorn in my side, a thorn I couldn't dislodge."
One of the being representing the Powers That Be came forward.
"We have consulted, and agreed. Let them come back, as champions, and we will allow you to do the same," a gentle, saddened voice answered.
"Any two?" the Original Evil asked, shocked.
"Any two," was the confirmation.
"So be it. Bring back your two champions; bring them back with their reward even. And I shall bring back my two most faithful minions.
Earth, UK, England, London.
He woke frightened, as if something had almost consumed him, as if he had escaped a faith worst than death. He looked around, before realizing that he was fully clothed. Blinking in the sudden light, as if he hadn't seen it in a long time, he moved to the window, and saw the night sky. Slowly, memories came back, a horrible battle, taking down the head of the army, knowing fully well that once the enemy died, he would explode in a ball of fire, taking the man with him. He had died once, to save the world and for the woman he loved, and he would do it again, for the same reasons. Prior to that, a few days maybe, a black man, badly injured, trying to go back to the fighting was put in an artificial sleep by the most powerful witch who ever lived. Beside her, a blue-haired woman, her face painted with sorrow she couldn't understand, seeing as she had never been mortal before. And before that, he remembered, standing in a cave, burning, his hand in hers. She told him she loved him. And finally he remembered who he was. His name was Spike.
Earth, USA, California, LA.
Gasping for breath, the brown hair man wondered what had happened. Why had he been so sure he didn't need to breathe? Slowly the puzzle pieces came together. It was because, not so long ago, he had been a vampire. Once feared on two continents, he had gotten himself ensouled, and had been cursed never to know true happiness, lest he lost the one thing which made him Angel. He remembered also a few minutes before his death, fighting against The Immortal, one of the leaders of the invading forces of evil. At the head of his demonic army, he was sure of himself, as anyone who couldn't be killed would be.
For a while, they stared at each other, and than, the fighting began. Angel had realized what his nemesis' weak point was the last time they had met, and he had asked Willow for a spell that would enable him to defeat him. Both turned humans, and the vampire shot the Immortal twice in the head, killing him instantly. However, the demonic army tore him apart in a matter of seconds afterwards, seeing as he no longer was a vampire. But he had known that before unleashing the spell, and he died with a smile on his lips, knowing that with Spike's help, they had pushed back the first wave of demons.
According to the prophecy, there would be more to come, but for the moment, Earth was protected for another millennium, ignorant of what was slowly being set in motions as he expired. It was going to happen much faster, the reason why The Powers That Be had decided to accept The First Evil's plan.