As they stepped into the portal of swirling light, Buffy realized — it wasn't just swirling light. It was a light that seemed to illuminate even the deepest, darkest recesses of her mind. It gave her such hope, where hope had once been lacking. It gave her strength, where once, she had been weak. It showed her beauty where there was only despair.

They stepped out into a large public garden. A crested avar chirruped in the trees, nearby. Children ran past them, their laughter filling the air like the sweetest music. The verdant grass was dotted with magnificent flowers, and even the strange stone statues seemed beautiful and yet cruel, at the same time.

A little girl stepped forwards, dropping a bouquet of flowers at one of the statues' feet. "I am so very sorry, dear Melkur, that you are too evil to move. I wish it were not so. But, here, I bring you flowers and tend you, as the Fosters have appointed me to do."

The Doctor's eyes flicked across the planet. "Yep. That's what I thought. The one place, in the universe, where nothing bad would ever be able to touch Drusilla."

Buffy looked around herself. "What is this place?"

"You are in the Traken Union, in the system of Mettula Orionsis, in a galaxy far from your own," came a very familiar voice, behind them. They turned, and there, seated on a beautiful red chair — floating above the ground — was a middle aged, but still radiant-looking Drusilla.

The Doctor stared at her, in horror. "Right…" He shuffled, from foot-to-foot. "Definitely been tricked."

Drusilla drifted forwards on her floating chair and took Buffy by the hand.

"Buffy Summers," Drusilla said, looking into her eyes. "I see you, across time and space. An inspiration. A great intellect. An undying courage. You said I had to be destroyed by Angelus… but I don't blame you for that. I thank you, for bringing your daughter to me and showing me a way out of the misery and darkness."

The Doctor scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah — about that…"

"And you, Doctor," Drusilla said, her chair floating away from Buffy and zipping over to the Doctor, "also deserve thanks. You brought her to me, in my darkest hour. You showed her how to save those who need to be saved. She passed your test."

"Well, actually…" the Doctor insisted.

"I can see you, too, across the patterns of the universe," Drusilla continued, looking through him. "The lonely traveler who has lost everything — even his home. But someday, you will have a home, again. Someday, you will awake, and all will be well inside your hearts."

"Thing is," the Doctor continued, a little awkwardly, "you weren't actually supposed to be saved. And certainly not like this." The Doctor gestured at the floating chair. "I mean — I thought only Consuls could become Keeper of Traken. Would never have guessed they'd allow an alien to do it."

Drusilla laughed, and her laughter echoed across the waters that were imbued with the power of the Source. "The Source chose me, Doctor," she said. "The Consuls had little choice. The Source knew of my Sight — and saw my potential." Tears appeared inside her eyes, as she looked out — deep into space and time. "I can see it all, now. Time and space. Planets and particles. What can change and what must never be altered. The Source guides me. And this universe is so, so beautiful. The numbers of the universe, one after another after another — I can reach out and take them in my hands, manipulate them and rearrange them. I can spread so much goodness, so much light! My hands illuminate the universe!"

Buffy nodded, slowly. "Right… sure…"

"And this is where we start to get into why the Goddess Glorificus wants to keep you around," the Doctor said, to Drusilla. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "You do realize that none of what's happened, back on Earth, should be possible, yes? Setting aside, for now, that the Slayers are dropping like flies, let's talk about Angelus. Angelus — a not-too-bright vampire bully — somehow managed to strand Seo on Earth, capture her, torture her, block the weapon in her head, block her regeneration…"

"Huh?" asked Buffy.

"If he hadn't, she'd easily have regenerated and killed him off before he turned her evil," the Doctor said. "Of course he did. Don't ask me how! And that's just one of a dozen or more impossible things. I haven't even gotten to the resurrection gauntlet snatched from time and the five hundred different paradoxes that were caused by doing so." He shook his head. "Drusilla, there's only one reason that any of this happened. It's because of you. The fact that you were saved is making it happen."

The light faded from Drusilla's eyes. She suddenly looked so sad, so lost, so… alone.

"I was so happy, here," Drusilla told them both. She stepped out of her chair, and looked up at the heavens. "I thought — my savior, my heavenly messenger — where is she, now? I must see her. I must tell her how happy she has made me." She reached out, towards the sky. "But I saw her falling. Her soul burned brighter than the brightest star. I tried so hard to reach her. I tried so hard to save her. But there was nothing I could do." She dropped her hand. "She was… just… gone."

Buffy and the Doctor exchanged a look.

"She saved me from a fate worse than death," said Drusilla, her voice shaking. "And I… I…"

She sat back down, her face pained and her eyes long and sad.

"I can see so much," Drusilla whispered. "I can change so much. But I could not catch her, as she fell. I could not save her from her torment. I weep, every day — because she saved me, and I stood aside and did nothing, as she took my place."

The Goddess pulled out a small device, watching it, as it began to glow.

"And… it looks like the Scoobies have finally started," she said. She looked up, at Angel, who was standing before her, surrounded by minions, and wearing handcuffs. "Guess what, Angel? I've decided to play it safe. If they've started the spell, that means you probably shouldn't be around, anymore — or everything could get screwed up." She shrugged. "Or not. Fifty-fifty chance. Point is, they've started, so it's your turn to go."

"Spell?" asked Angel.

The Goddess grabbed him by his handcuffs. "Sorry, Angel." She raised up her fingers. "But we won't meet, again. Say hi to Seo, for me, when you get... wherever nonexistent souls go."

Before she could snap her fingers, Angel threw himself at her, fangs bared. He attacked her with every last bit of desperate terror he felt, overcome by a determination to make sure that he survived and could protect Buffy — and the world.

He hit her. Smashed her head against the ground. Punched her. Kicked her. Threw her against a tree.

She didn't fight back.

In fact, Angel only realized that something was wrong when she dropped down, at the base of the tree, and curled up into a ball.

She was shaking.

"I tried so hard," she whispered, "to fight back. But you never stopped. Drusilla got off lucky, when you killed her friends and family — but that wasn't enough for me. You had to make me kill my own family."

She looked up at him, her eyes so pained and so soulful.

"Why?" she asked. "You asked me to save her! Why did you make me do it? Why did you make me do all those horrible things?"

Angel leaned down. "Is that… you? The real you?" He put a hand on her shoulder, and she shuddered. "Are you Buffy's daughter?"

She shoved his hand off of her. "Don't touch me!" Her whole face looked hurt, betrayed. "After what you did…!"

Angel opened his mouth to say something more… but that was when he felt a shudder and a violent tremor come over him. He doubled over, suddenly in intense pain.

She gasped, jumped to her feet. "The spell!" She looked horrified. "That orb! It's not the orb of Thessulah! It's…!" She spun around, racing towards the others. "I have to stop this. I have to warn them!"

Angel didn't know what was happening, but he knew it was something extremely, extremely bad. He could feel himself getting eaten up from the inside, and he didn't know what to do to stop it…

He reached out, for help — but there was no one.