Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from the WB shows Angel & Buffy

Note: This story was written as a role play so each chapter is a different character's experience.

Chapter One- The Champions

Angel paused in his running as he lent back and rested against the cold wet concrete of a nearby wall. The rain still poured and the howls of the battle they had left behind roared over it, allowing little time for the vampire to rest. ''Next time I say we can win an apocalyptic battle, tell me I'm foolish and possibly punch some sense into me'' he said sarcastically to the blue demon god that stood silent. Fred's delicate form standing almost statuesque, the haunting blue eyes piercing into the night sky unperturbed by the raindrops falling in her face. They couldn't win this, even with her on their side….they'd fall and if she didn't give up she'd simply follow. He hated that he had gotten his friends into this and the words Hamilton had said rang true in his ears…..he had failed them.

Illyria remained stone like in all aspects of her human form apart from the mist shrouding her eyes. It was grief. Since arriving in this strange reality she had found it impossible to understand why humans would cherish their ability to feel. It was a curse, a curse she was desperate to rid herself of . "Entering the battle was, pointless, though it is unlikely we would have been capable of avoiding it. These minions would have feared the mere mention of my name once, now Illyria means nothing. If they will not remember my name they will remember my face as I unleash my wrath and tear every limb from their feeble excuse for a physic" she said with pure vengeance in her voice. Retrieving her weapon she began to walk without fear back into the chaos, but she was alone. The age old demon turned and looked for Angel at her side, but the champion was on his knees, his head buried in his hands, exhausted. "Do you not wish to fight alongside me?" She asked.

Angel allowed an eccentric laugh to escape his lips as he heard Illyria speak, the question of his participation in the battle and fighting along side her striking him as the funniest. He had started this all, put the wheel in motion and if he simply gave up, what would it say?. He wasn't afraid of dying and the purpose of entering in the first place wasn't to walk out at all… it was to prove a point. Slowly sliding to his feet, he wobbled unstably looking as though he'd had a few too many rounds in the bar instead of in the ring. As his hands curled around the handle of his weapon, he gripped tight, his knuckles turning an even paler shade of white as the presence of strength was still behind his movements. ''Lets finish this…although I don't think we're necessarily going to have to go to them'' he stated as she moved to go down the ally way. The howls grew louder as did the clanking of armor and weaponry. '' Looks as though they missed us'' his tone dripping with sarcasm and surprisingly what seemed to be excitement.

A terrible roar consisting of all the fear and pain and hate that had ever plagued the earth polluted the air like blood in water and the pair stood, facing evil in the eye and surging with all of the conviction their bodies could posses. Illyria looked to the blackness, then to her companion. She could not face this world alone, and though it seemed her existence in this dimension had been short, she was content that it had purpose and that she would not stand alone against the fires of hell. The first minion hurtled forward and was mutilated in what seemed like seconds as the veracious warrior pierced flesh and bone with the strength and speed of death itself. The world turned to silence. All apart from the pain filled cries of her victims were now irrelevant as she cut through swarm after swarm of demons not worthy of her skill and power. Each kill filled her human heart with the euphoria of victory as she fought to save a world she had once loathed and time groveled at her feet. Illyria severed the head of a large creature resembling a leather skinned ape and stopped to savor the crimson fountain seeping from her trophy when a cry distinctly different filled the darkness. Illyria tore and slashed her way to the source but she was too late, the hero had fallen to the ground and the black knight pierced the vampire's heart. Grief took its hold on Illyria once again and the goddess lay weak on the bloodstained pavement, barely finding herself capable of holding onto breath as the rain stained her eyes and her own humanity betrayed her. The black mass turned its eyes to the woman in her weakest moment. The knight lifted his sword and Illyria grasped her chest as she watched the blade glint in the darkness, finally the grief would end.

All of a sudden time seemed to stop in its tracks. The blade was suspended in mid air as if the storm had held the puppets blow with invisible string. Illyria felt a strange presence passing over her and all of a sudden everything was clear. It was them. They'd sent her here. They'd put her through this humiliation. These demons were not worthy of her vengeance. Her purpose was to end greater powers, and now was her opportunity. She bled through the mass in an instant and searched through the soaking streets of LA until she had identified the power she'd sensed on the battle field. Her quest had led her to a small, lowly bar.

Doyle coughed and wheezed as he stood up, not from the wounds that he knew this body had but from the smell of the dead carcasses in front of him. He cringed looking upon the bits of fallen demon, the entrails clearly visible where they looked as though they had been gotten violently caught off guard. Trying his best not to breathe, he aimed to move towards the exit but paused as he realized he was grasping something in his hand. As his gaze smoothly traveled down, he became dumbstruck at the sight of a stained machete. He did this?...no, not him, the person before him. He wasn't capable of this sort of destruction and if he remembered rightly, folded like paper in any sort of fight. ''This is just unsettling….'' He said to himself, frowning as his voice sounded oddly American for a deceased Irishman. Raising a foot he stepped over the mess on the floor, taking care to dodge what he only imagined was something's foot. Moving towards the mirror that hung over the dingy looking sink in the corner, The reflection there was not what he wanted to see at all, the shock of it just about causing him to stumble backwards onto the floor. Luckily his weight was caught by the overturned table, his hands grasping the rim. ''This isn't right….not him. Someone's seriously gotta be takin' the piss here'' he mumbled to himself momentarily, though becoming startled as he heard footsteps crack the broken glass beneath them.

Illyria stepped into the bar, noticing the carnage some thing else had left behind. The red carpet thinned as she progressed through the smoke filled room, ignoring the revolting stench of beer, cigarettes and corpses, these small details were not important. Reaching the open doorway to the back room, Illyria seemed confused by the tattered figure lying before her. Why would a powerful entity choose such a pathetic, fragile vessel? The human seemed to be mumbling to himself incoherently and stumbling quite violently. She reached over to him, attempting to sit him down in one of the few remaining chairs. "You are not the power I seek. You are severely wounded, I suggest you find medical assistance immediately" she stated, before turning and attempting to leave in search of the true source she'd sensed, but her concentration was shattered by the complaints of the man in the chair.

''Hey!..princess where you goin?'' Doyle protested as she had just sat him down and told him he was in dire need of medical care. He knew that!, He could feel the wounds the body had, and the cold metal off the bullets sitting in the holes they had created. ''As much as I appreciate your assessment, I'm not going to do a very good job of getting that much needed attention on me own'' truth be told, he could heal the wounds with what power he had left, and whatever hospital he went to would be most likely dumbfounded by the fact he'd survived a shot to the heart. Slowly beckoning himself off the chair, he gritted his teeth through the pulling and pain of the torn flesh. Each movement seeming too real for his liking, especially since he'd spent the last 4 years without any body to speak of. ''This power your looking for, it wouldn't happen to be a power that be would it now?'' he asked as he knew very well what she was. She was an old one, one of the first and now deceased demons only now she was very much alive, and by the looks of it, hollowed the body she was in from the inside out. Studying her he was wary to reveal more as he knew she was very capable of tearing an arm off, if she wasn't ready to play nice. ''Didn't know old ones, were interested in findin' 'em….unless a conversation wasn't what you were looking for''

Illyria's ice blue eyes scanned the curious human's body in great detail. She was now confident that this was no average human. The demon had witnessed the fragile creatures fall after much less fatal wounds. It was because of this weakness she still struggled to understand how such a fragile race could have come to rule the earth. The only doubt remaining in Illyria's mind was, what was this creature? I "You are not human" she stated "If you belonged to that futile race those bullet wounds would have brought your existence to an end in minutes. What are you? How do you know of my race? It would be wise to answer truthfully as I do no suffer creatures that serve as a waste my time! "

''Now that's kinda rude'' Doyle stated sarcastically as she deemed him as 'not human' in the icy tone the demon seemed to carry. As a fact he was very much human this time around, unless Lyndsey was hiding something all those years. ''And slightly unfair, how come I 'ave te go first?...'' was added as he took a cautious step forwards. He'd been able to do nothing but watch as he was stuck up 'there' and it was a shame to see the member of AI lost to this thing. Still he knew more than she did, the part she would have to play in future prophecies and whether he liked it or not she was their only hope in some aspects of the future, her, an 'old one'.

Was this creature completely incompetent? Illyria could not bare this disrespect for much longer.

"It is odd that you do not understand the situation. You are injured and in no position to interrogate me. It was not a request that you do not waste my time. I command that you answer me. If you are familiar with my race you will also be aware of the many ways I am capable of bringing your existence to a long, bloody, painful end, and I will not hesitate to make my abilities clear if you continue to attempt to agitate me." Illyria said with disgust before gripping the humans hair and almost pulling it from its roots as she stared directly into the man's eyes with piercing confidence, "I have seen the hell dimensions and delighted in the pain of creatures far more valiant than yourself. I have commanded armies of demons so tortured and merciless their cruelty is beyond the realms of your imagination. Do not attempt to persist in the pursuit of pointless banter. Who are you?! "

He knew old ones were often good with words, but he couldn't remember them being quite so long winded. Instead of just killing him she seemed to be describing all the pretty mutilation she was capable off and what would do it. ''I've already died a long painful death darlin'…infact I had the demon burned right out of me which you can imagine hurt a fair bit.'' He stated just for the hell of it before she grabbed him harshly by the hair, ''Oww!'' escaping in an annoyed tone. ''what's this? the fifth grade?!'' he howled as she just about pulled it out, reminding him of the vicious little schoolgirls he'd gone to school with, even then he'd fold like paper. A sad re-occurring event. As it continued to seem she was being more than serious, the former half demon rolled his eyes despite the pain. ''Alright, woman, I'll tell…don't get ya leather cozzy in a twist''. Glancing up to her soulless eyes he sighed before opening his lips, only to get a soccor punch right in his face. ''What was that for?'' he asked as he'd obviously hit a nerve…women!. ''As long as you've simmered down enough to stop hitin' me I'll tell you….My names Doyle, and If Cordellia ever winged about me to your bodies former owner you'd know who I am. I died about 4 years back saving Angel and her..for which I was granted the privilege of powerhood…only I wanted to get more involved with things down here than the others liked and in a sense 'ave had my wings clipped… so yeah I'm the power your looking for.. and though I hate to admit it, a rather pathetic one'

Illyria had grown tired of punishing the pathetic creature lying in a large fleshy mound on the floor before her. She allowed him to clamber to his feet, and delighted in the man's constant stumbling and tripping as he attempted to steady himself. This was a curious being. If she was capable of fear, Illyria might have feared she'd been fighting on the wrong side, if this was supposed to be an example of the apparent protectors of humanity, 'the powers that be'. At this point Illyria's only concern was for the battle field however. "The enemy ceased their attack on your arrival and were frozen. It is inevitable that they will become reanimated. They will track me here" she informed the being.

''And what do you want me to do?..drop dead faster for you so I'm not an embarrassment to your other opponents..no thanks, I'll think I'll pass'' Doyle said as he finally caught his balance, the pain of having a fully human body not quite what he expected. He didn't know what he could do to make the swarm of angry demons any less angry, or the situation any lighter, he didn't have that kind of power anymore. ''If you were looking for a wish from the wizard of Oz I'm sorry darlin, but the yellow brick roads closed for business…..couldn't do anything even if I wanted to'' he added with a now very painful shrug. It occurred to him his plan hadn't gone accordingly, and must have really pissed off his ''colleagues' for them to be punishing him like they were. As he went to open his mouth again he paused, as he heard more footsteps. ''Friends of yours?'' he asked with a raised brow.

Spike stumbled into the bar as he tried to escape the grasp of the demons outside. The battle had once again started and raged louder than before. He struggled to shut the door with demons pushing to get inside. "well don't just bloody stand there help me I can't fight this whole damn army of cretins myself So help would be greatly appreciated right now" He said with a slight hint of sarcasm, despite the desperate situation they were all in. He strained to keep the door shut with demons pulling at his leather trench coat. It seemed Spike had already had his fair share of injuries although they had already began to heal. Blood on his head was trickling down onto his cheek and his hands were bloodied and dirty.

"I am surrounded by incompetence" Illyria stated clearly, unaffected by the unbelieving stairs being directed at her from each side of the door. Her companions fought to secure the only barrier separating them from the mindless hoards that continued to pursue them and the woman pushed against the thin wooden frame with every ounce of strength she possessed. As the hoards began to pulsate with even more determination and cries of bloodthirsty frustration filled the smoke filled bar, it seemed as if the walls themselves might collapse against any more strain. As she oversaw the crumbling concrete and felt the earthquake become stronger and stronger at every passing moment, Illyria became certain that the only option remaining was to fight. Though it seemed their chances of survival were close to naught, this option seemed more appealing to the goddess than holing themselves in like vermin. "These attempts are futile. We must fight!" Illyria's voice resonated over the ever increasing roar, "We will fight valiantly and mercilessly even to our last breaths". Spike and Doyle turned their heads simultaneously and as they looked upon Illyria's god like radiance and stillness the blood in their veins began filling with courage once again. The three warriors leaped back from the door, their weapons held high against the gathering storm, ready to face the mask of fear itself, but something had changed. The roar seemed to be becoming more distant as every second passed, until finally the trio were blinded by a barrage of piercing white light, and there was silence. Illyria woke up to find herself and her companions lying outstretched on a cold marble floor belonging to a large cavernous hall.