The Angel's Knight #33 - The War to End All Wars

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110 miles north of Los Angeles, October 16, 2017

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Xander:

Okay, so we are standing in this huge underground cavern that looks like a set from those old Lord of the Rings movies. Right in the middle of it there is this giant Torch thing, apparently the source of all supernatural creatures and beasties in the whole wide world. That's the prize. Whoever gets his hands on it decides the future of the world. Or something like that.

When we went down here we were worried that we wouldn't have room to fight effectively, but we needn't have worried. The cavern is the size of several football fields and there are plenty of rock formations and pillars to give us cover if we need it.

Looking at the entrance we came in through I guess we'll need all the cover we can get.

The bad guys come pouring in, demons of all shapes and sizes. Vampires, a lot of them. Zombies. Ms. French's little baby Mantises, all grown up and mean. Things I never saw before and certainly never needed to see, thank you. There are hundreds of them and they are all coming at us.

There were about 400 of us when we initially invaded the remains of Sunnydale. Half of those were Initiative soldiers, well trained and equipped with the best toys Uncle Sam's money can buy. The other half was our boys, the demon hunters trained under the roof of the Angel Foundation. What we lack in precision marching skills we make up in enthusiasm. Most of these guys joined the good fight because they lost someone to the monsters.

Well, there are plenty of monsters to go around today. At first glance I'd say we're outnumbered about three or four to one, but the demons are still pouring in, so the odds can only get worse. I wonder why I'm so calm.

Maybe it's what that Celeste kid said. We live in two worlds, the mundane and the supernatural. Right now, standing at the foot of this Torch, we are about as far from the mundane world as one can possibly be. Reality has no place here; we are in the middle of a myth. A new story in the making? Or simply acting out a classic tale of good against evil? I don't know. All I know is the bad guys are coming at us and, being the good guys, we have to stop them. It's really as easy as that.

Riley barks some commands and the troops fall into formation. Angel and our other heavy hitters form up as well. Something strange is going on with that Diana kid, she looks different somehow, but there is no time to think about it for too long.

Anya. I wish I could be with you and the kids right now, honey. I love you, you know that? I hope I said it often enough. I hope you know that you made me happier than I ever thought I could be, that you made me a better man. Take care of the little guys for me, will you? And please remember I'll always love you.

Then the battle begins.

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Faith:

This is the part about being the Slayer I never had any trouble with whatsoever. I see this army of demons coming at us and I'm not afraid. Quite the opposite, actually. The Slayer, that thing inside me that gives me strength, is positively giddy with excitement at having so many targets so close at hand. This is what I was made for. Protecting the Torch, keeping the world from sliding down into supernatural oblivion.

I think I'm laughing out loud as I meet the first wave of vampires head-on. Angel is beside me, all stoic and intense as ever. And Diana? Something has changed about her and I'm not just talking about her hair, which is almost completely blond now. Her face is different, her body, almost as if...

God, this has got to be the ultimate joke.

For a brief moment I'm almost frozen as a multitude of old feelings begins to well up. This, if nothing else, tells me that this is the real thing. When that thing upstairs appeared, that monster masquerading as Buffy, some part of me knew from the start that it wasn't real and kept all the old emotions bottled up.

Not this time. Regret, so much regret, and words I never had the chance to say. Anger and jealousy. I'm the Slayer now, have been for sixteen years, longer than anyone else in recorded history. What right does she have coming back at the final battle, trying to steal my thunder? Happiness. The best few months of my old life were spent fighting side by side with her. Confusion. How is this possible? Why now?

A moment later reality, or whatever passes for it around here, reasserts itself. We're in the middle of a battle and I can't afford to space out now. And really, considering this could be the big battle to end all battles, what better partner to have at my side?

For a brief moment our eyes lock and I know that she knows. Unless she played us all (and somehow I don't think so) she must have figured it out sometime these last few minutes. Maybe this really is what it looks like. A genuine miracle dropped into our palms at the very last second. And for once it's not working against us.

B and I share a smile before we head right into battle again.

Time flies and I don't know whether we've been fighting for minutes or days. I really don't give a damn. I know we're taking casualties. This isn't the movies where the good guys fight off hordes of bad guys without ever taking a scratch. Right in front of me an Initiative soldier is gutted and I can't do anything but avenge him, taking out the demon that is still busy licking his blood off its claws. Even the myths aren't as squeaky clean as Disney makes them out to be.

It takes seeing Gunn struck down not five feet away from me to finally break the high of fighting and ishatter into a thousand little pieces.

"Gunn," I hear myself screaming, shoving everyone out of the way that stands between his collapsing form and me. I manage to catch him just before he hits the ground, but it only takes a second to see that I'm too late. Half his fucking chest is missing and his lifeblood is pouring onto my lap.

"Don't do this to me, you jerk," I whisper to him, feeling my eyes sting with tears. It wasn't supposed to go down this way. We had this cycle going between us. Being together for a year or two, then hating each other's guts for about the same time. On and off, on and off. He wasn't supposed to die on me like this.

If this were the movies he'd be saying some sort of final words right now, one last confession of love or whatever it is he felt for me, but these aren't the movies. He was dead before he even fell into my arms, his eyes staring up at me with nothing behind them.

I clench my fist, his blood squishing forth from between my fingers. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

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Willow / Catherine:

"Goddess, did you see that? Faith just ... she's like a wild animal."

"We all fight to protect what is dear to us, Willow. And when we fail to do that the only thing left is revenge."

"No, that isn't true. We're here to save the world. Anything else ..."

"Oh, so you're not secretly hoping that helping in this battle is going to sway Tara and the others when it comes to you? Don't forget, dear, our thoughts are pretty much one and the same here."

"You think Amy will forgive you because you just incinerated a few demons with those lightning bolts of yours?"

"I can but hope. At least I'm not a hypocrite pretending this is all for the greater good of mankind. I don't give a shit about mankind. The only one of importance to me is my daughter and I'll incinerate every single living being in this cave if that's what it takes to keep her safe."

"Well ... I hope you are not to averse to keeping the others safe as well. We could use a lightning bolt over there."

"Focus! We need to do this in tandem."

"There, that's better! I think our combined magic is actually getting stronger the longer we stay here."

"The Torch is the source of all magic, Willow. It goes to reason that ... there's more of them! Concentrate! We need to keep them away."

"No problem! With this much juice running through us we can ... Goddess! Buffy? BUFFY?"

"Willow, you're losing your focus!"

"But that's ... don't you see? That's Buffy. That Diana kid, the new Slayer. It's Buffy!"

"Willow, stay focused, damn it! We saw this happening, remember? It's one of the images you picked up from the Torch and fired right into that poor girl's brain. We knew Buffy would be here for the final battle. Stay focused on the fighting!"

"But ... this is what I ... do you think maybe I ... we ... did we somehow ..."

"This is not the time for you to go back to your great 'raiser-of-the-dead- friend' routine, Willow! We are in the middle of a battle and the others ... Amy! Oh God, Amy! AMY!"

"What ... oh no! No! Catherine, I didn't ... I'm ..."

"GET OUT OF MY MIND!"

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Giles:

I have just enough time to see the bodies of Willow and Mrs. Madison both erupt in white flames before I'm blinded, the world around me reduced to black and white spots. Hairs all over my body are standing up straight as power crackles through the room, magical forces unleashed.

By the time I regain my vision almost half the enemy force seems to have burst into flames, demons screeching in pain as their flesh is eaten away by a fire that can't be extinguished. I can feel it resonating in the air. Hatred! Pure undeterred hatred and rage. A moment later I can see Amy's dead form lying on the ground, a dying vampire's teeth still buried in her jugular, and I know where it came from.

Willow and Mrs. Madison both crumble to the ground, their own flesh scorched and eaten away by the unleashed power. I wish I had time to check whether they might still be alive, but the odds of that are slim and we need to use the advantage they have given us. The sudden shock of losing half their number in a matter of seconds spreads through the demon army like wildfire and they hesitate, stumbling around in confusion.

Riley is still alive and rallying the troops for a final push forward. Faith is like a dervish, moving freely through the ranks of our enemies and leaving dead bodies and settling dust in her wake. Angel fights like a man possessed, all the rage he has built up manifesting itself in a grim determination his opponents are helpless against. And Diana ...

Diana is Buffy.

On some level I knew it, I think, but seeing her here, now, is still a shock. And I know, somehow I know, that this isn't a trick this time. Not like that shape-shifting demon from earlier, not a creature much like myself, not another dirty trick by Wolfram & Hart.

She is alive. Dear God, she is alive.

Just a few minutes ago I found my resolve. Whatever I started out as, whatever force brought me into this world and shaped my being, I have chosen who I am going to be. Rupert Giles. Watcher. Protector. Guide. Father of a family that has nothing to do with blood and everything to do with love and friendship. A family that is whole once more. Buffy is here.

I throw myself into the battle with renewed vigor and I know, just know, that we are going to win this. Not because we are righteous, not because this is a fairy tale where the good guys always win, but for the simple reason that my family is here, all of them.

And we save the world. It's really that simple.

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Angel:

I have no idea how long the fight lasts and I don't care. I see friends and comrades fall and my heart weeps, but I don't allow it to slow me down. With the fires of the Torch burning behind me I know that this battle is too important to allow anything to stop it. We must win this or our world is lost forever. There are no second chances; no rituals or spells that can undo what will be done if we fail. We have one shot to make this right and we'll use it.

The battle finally ends, not with a bang, but with a whimper. The final demon dies as I impale him on my sword and when I look around there are no further targets to be found. The ground is littered with bodies and the bodies are covered in settling vampire dust. To my right the carcass of a Mantis is still twitching, but everything else is still. The flames of the Torch cast an eerie light over the field of slaughter we have created.

Faith is still standing, a blade in each hand, her entire form covered in blood, both human and demon. A wild look is on her face, but I can see the sobs threatening to break free from her throat. She stands closest to the Torch, her back to it, daring any of the dead demons to get back up and give it another go.

Celeste is still alive. I don't think any of the demons ever came close to her and the reason for that lies beside her. Darla looks beautiful, the few drops of blood clinging to her skin like rose petals. I can't see the wound that killed her from here, but I can smell it. Even through all this blood and chaos I can smell it, the essence that so closely mirrors that of my Sire running away and taking her life with it.

She hasn't crumbled into dust.

"Goodbye, mommy," Celeste whispers, a tear in her eye. "I promise things will be better soon."

I take my eyes away from the child, my child, something I haven't begun to come to terms with. Everything happened so fast. So incredibly fast. It's barely been two days since the final survivor of this war we fought here walked into the lobby of the Hyperion for the first time.

Diana. Who isn't Diana. She is Buffy. Denial shatters as my eyes come upon her and for a moment I think I can feel my heart beat.

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Buffy:

I know who I am. I know why I was sent back here. All my life, my first life, they had me fighting in a war that was not my own, fighting for purposes not my own. For the sake of the world, or so they told me, and in part they were correct. They just never told me what world they were talking about.

They sent me back because they wanted an ace up their sleeve. I wasn't dead, but I believed I was and they used that belief for their own gain. Ripped me out of my self-made heaven and sent me tumbling back into the world, my mind fragmented and torn because too much knowledge would have made me a danger to them in turn.

I stare at the battlefield, stare at the blood that covers my body like armor. I am alive again, reborn from a fountain of blood, and it's at the same time oddly fitting and too disgusting for words. This, all this, is just a game to them, I know that now. Two bullies in the playground, trying to decide who gets to be the boss around these parts. Two puppet masters making their toys fight in mock combat. The stakes, to us, are as high as can be. To them this is no more than two boys playing a video game over a signed baseball card.

Angel looks at me, recognizes me, and my heart constricts. They used him, too. Used him to build them an army. Used my love for him to lure me out of my heaven. They used us all, so many lives lost for their game, and now it's almost over.

Almost. But not quite.

In one of the few spots not covered with bodies, blood, and gore the air shimmers and a shape appears. I've seen it only twice before and that was decades ago. A short man, overweight, dressed in outdated clothes and a funny hat. The slightest smile on his lips.

"Whistler," Angel growls. I know he has figured it out, too.

"Angel," Whistler smiles. "Great job, really! You did it! You won the fight. Now all you have to do is claim the prize." He gestures toward the Torch.

Faith stands in front of the Torch and I realize something else. She is the Slayer, has been the Slayer ever since Kendra died. Me, I'm something else now. I ceased being the Slayer the day the Master killed me, I only refused to see it. With the fires of the Torch burning inside me, that great power that could be anything I wanted it to be, I managed to replenish everything I had lost. Two Slayers, but only one of them the genuine article.

"It won't happen, fat guy," she snarls at the burly demon. Only he's not a demon at all, really. He is something much greater. "Protecting the Torch is my gig and no one is going to lay a hand on it."

I manage a proud smile.

"This is unnecessary, people," Whistler continues, an edge of worry in his voice. "You won! The war is over. You only need to make it official."

He is looking at Angel, at Faith, at me. Interestingly enough his eyes slide right past Celeste without so much as a flicker. Does he even see her? I don't think so. And ... there is somebody else here. Somebody who seems to get more real with every moment. Dawn? Yes, she is here, too, though I can't quite see her yet. But that's okay. I can feel her.

"The war isn't over," I tell Whistler, stepping forward to stand beside Angel. There are so many things I'd like to do right now, so many things I'd like to say to him. Only there isn't time. There's never time.

Angel looks at me and I can see right into his soul. He has seen a vision of the two of us fighting each other. Here. Now. For the fate of the world.

And now he knows why it must happen that way.

TO BE CONTINUED