Disclaimer: I own some things in this story, most notably those OC's that don't fall under anybody else's concepts that I'm aware of, but everybody else, the town of Sunnydale, and the World of Darkness don't belong to me. I owe some thanks to X-Over for submitting character and story ideas, some of which I'll use here and there.

Thanks for the feedback guys, your comments are really appreciated.

Xander's car swerved the moment Allandra screamed. Jerking the steering wheel over, he guided the car to a stop on the side of the road, his ears ringing as Allandra kept jerking and screaming in the seat.

Unbuckling his seat belt, Xander grabbed Allandra's face and tried to calm her down, trying to keep her from screaming. She was writhing, her face scrunched up in pain and in terror.

Suddenly she opened her eyes, and clutched onto Xander as if he were a lifeline. She whispered in his ear. "Get him out of my head!"

Her eyes then rolled back into her head and she passed out.

Xander clutched onto Allandra, quietly speaking. "Come on Allandra, fight this. You can beat him."

Images flashed before Allandra's eyes as the ancient Devil Lord's mind wormed through her own. People she didn't know, places she'd never seen, wonders or nature, the cruelty of demons and man, and also the compassion of those beings with living souls.

The memories slowed down and unfolded on a single event. She stood before a bright battlefield, an army of thousands of men in archaic armor stood before her. The sun beat down on them all, the air was full with the stench of death and burnt flesh.

A single figure stood on the other side, a being with blue skin and horns. With every wave of his hand, lightning struck out and killed more of the people who were trying to reach the figure.

"So, it's come, then?" A voice spoke from behind her.

She felt herself turning, coming face to face with the man she knew as Prince Alexander, the vampire. Yet this man couldn't be a vampire, they were both standing in full daylight. She felt a voice that wasn't her own, a distinctly masculine voice, speaking, yet it was her lips moving. "The Judge. He's here to bring this world under the rule of the masters of his Hell."

Alexander nodded. "This is different from your own, right?"

Allandra replied. "Very different. My father fell into my Hell, others went to a place they called the Abyss. His come from yet another, a realm of conquerors and never-ending war and pain. He is their ultimate weapon. Nothing your army has can kill him, no weapon forged by man can stop him."

Alexander sighed. "Can you stop him, my friend? You are, after all, not a man. You are a devil."

Allandra felt herself shaking her head. "I can't stop him either. I have no weapons of the Hells with me, and I cannot get one in time to keep him from growing stronger. I could, perhaps, beat him with my bare hands, but I doubt it. He's more durable than I am."

There was a roar of triumph and a loud scream, both Alexander and Allandra, or whoever's eyes she was seeing through this time, turned to look at the battle.

The Judge stood there, electrocuting several men with his lightning, and yet he was snarling, and even from the long distance, he looked a little scared. Allandra felt herself smiling slightly, and Alexander patted her shoulder, pointing at him. He nearly yelled in his excitement. "Look! He is wounded!"

And so the Judge was. His left arm had been cut off at the elbow, apparently the lucky strike of a single soldier in his death throes. Though the army had been cut down to less than five hundred men when they had started with two thousand, Allandra was suddenly certain, somehow, that they would win.

"Of course." She spoke, apparently her benefactor had a revelation. "No weapon forged by man can kill him. But we don't need to kill him! We can stop him without killing him!"

Alexander sounded elated as he spoke. "Can you do it?"

Allandra nodded. "I can do it." She felt her hand drawing a blade as she began running towards the battlefield at a faster than human speed. The Judge was ripping the lives from ten people at a time, scorching them with that yellow lightning of his.

She felt herself leaping above the army, her vision surrounded by flames as she descended to earth, striking out with her blade. The Judge raised his hand, and struck at her with lightning, throwing her back and forcing her to fall to the ground with a grunt.

The Judge blew away another twenty men with a lightning strike as Allandra got back to her feet, but even with that minor victory of the Judge, another soldier's lucky strike managed to sever the Judge's right arm.

Breathing heavily, Allandra felt her body charge at the Judge, moving with inhuman speed and cutting down, slicing off one of his horns. The Judge howled a demonic curse at her as she dodged behind him, and as she did, the hundred remaining soldiers in the army surrounded the Judge.

Lightning burst out from the center of that mass of flesh, and nearly all of the men screamed in agony and fell dead as the Judge absorbed their souls for his own power. Three men were left, and they hacked mercilessly at the falling demon. The Judge's power was waning, but still, a single touch could kill them, and if he managed it, he could reassemble himself.

Allandra found herself running at the Judge once again, lifting her blade and hacking with a single stroke, severing the Judge's head from his body. The blue demon's body staggered, and then fell over.

The three remaining men watched in horror as the limbs of the demon tried to reattach themselves to the body of the monster, and Alexander, still up on the hillside, shouted an order down to them. "Dismember it entirely!"

The men took the order and kept hacking with their blades. Again and again in the bright sunlight the swords flashed, removing every limb the demon had from each other part of itself.

Alexander came down the hill, speaking to his men once the grisly job was finished. "Box the remains, and keep them separate. We can't chance him managing to reassemble himself."

The scene froze suddenly, leaving Allandra in control of herself. She looked around, screaming into the air. "Who are you!?" The stench of burnt corpses threatened to overwhelm her, and yet she could snap out of this nightmare.

A figure of flames burst out of the ground in front of her. "I am what you should have been, child." It advanced towards her, the flames fading, revealing a seven foot tall winged beast. His skin was black, yet, as if in place of blood, lava flowed through his body, coming to the surface of his skin, weaving glowing patterns through his face and his extremities. His horned face seemed to glare at her for some imagined crime.

She took a step back, unconsciously stepping over the frozen corpse of a fallen soldier. "What do you want from me!?" She screamed at him, half in anger and half in fear.

The devil laughed. "I simply want answers. You hold the answers to your own creation, yet it is all locked away in that tiny brain of yours. Worthless mortal bug." He rose his hand. "Now, show me, child. Where is my son!?"

She screamed as the images around herself twisted into a lightless wasteland. Clouds rolled overhead, lightning illuminating the dead world in brief flashes. In the distance she could hear two voices argued with each other. The images apparently were not constructed out of her own memories, or the devil's influence, but of something else.

The ground whirled, and both the devil and Allandra found themselves standing before two other devils. Or rather, one unknown devil and the devil standing at Allandra's side, if it were possible for him to be in two places at once. The unknown devil stood at six feet, a massive greatsword strapped to his back, over his hard, leathery wings. He bore more than a passing resemblance to the larger devil, but seemed to stand with a way of nobility to larger one lacked.

The smaller, unknown devil spoke. "Father, Lord Ifrit. I ask that you see reason."

Ifrit snarled. "Alleron! I shall not allow you to leave. You are not worthy of freedom, you are mine, or have you forgotten this in your traitorous way!?"

The name nearly staggered Allandra. 'Alleron was my father's name. I remember him as a kind man, someone who always looked out for me, protected me. He was someone who had been such a great father. How could he be a demon? How could this be so?'

Alleron spread his arms and yelled. "Look at me, father! I have given up every soul I have taken for power, and yet, now I am stronger than I ever was before. I have rejected you and the eternal war you and your brethren have waged for ten millennia! You are trapped here in this darkness, while I can leave and go to a world, nay, many worlds of light. I am free father. You will be bound here until you get killed in one of your schemes."

Ifrit growled and backhanded his son, sending him flying and crashing into the rocky ground. Alleron staggered to his feet, wiping his mouth with a clawed hand. "You see, father. You cannot accept that there is another way, a better way, so you just decide to destroy that which irks you. You're a fool."

Ifrit roared in a voice that reached the rolling clouds above. "You are not worthy of being my son! I shall rend the flesh from your bones, you pathetic little wretch! You turned on me for these lies of redemption and freedom!? I shall show you how binding this realm really is to you!"

Alleron stood straight, defiantly staring his father in the eyes. "I don't think so, father. You made a mistake ten thousand years ago and still you are too proud to admit it was a mistake. I will no longer suffer for your pride. For I am free, damned one."

Ifrit growled and charged at Alleron, his fist coming forward with all of his force. Yet, by the time his fist reached his son, Alleron had been enveloped in white light, and Ifrit's fist passed right through that space. Ifrit stumbled, off balance, and watched helplessly as the form of his son disappeared from his sight.

He roared in frustration and pounded the ground, which cracked and shattered under his blow, the entire region ringing like a bell with the sheer force of it.

Beside Allandra, the older incarnation of the Devil Lord growled. He extended his hand towards Allandra, nearly screaming. "Show me where he went!"

Allandra shut her eyes, taking deep breaths, finally getting her fear under control. When she opened them, she glared at Ifrit. She spoke one little word, but with all of her emotion behind it.

"No."

Ifrit roared, exerting his will on her. Allandra gritted her teeth and pushed her mind back at him. "Get out of my mind!" She screamed at him, throwing everything she had into her defiance.

Ifrit flinched. He redoubled his efforts, trying to tear the information from her mind, but she resisted. Growling at him, she used every bit of willpower she had to expel him. Ifrit howled, then he disappeared, leaving nothing but a wisp of smoke in her mental landscape as it dissolved around her, bringing her eyes back into the real world. Back to Xander's concerned face.

She clutched onto him, trembling with exhaustion as Xander held her close, in the cramped quarters of the car, and they simply comforted each other as they let the tension pour out of them both.

Wilhem entered The Haven, stroking his bearded chin as he examined the crowd. He detected only two Kindred in the entire club, picking them out easily with his practiced eyes, and yet he also noticed the mortal bouncers watching them carefully.

Looking over, he saw a fresh coat of paint on the wall, apparently covering the symbol of the Sabbat. Obviously the place was under new management. If a Sabbat member had taken over on Michael's death, then the bouncers would be paying more attention to the mortal creatures, be they human, elf, troll, orc, or dwarf. Apparently the new owner wanted the vampires checked.

Wilhem shrugged. He didn't really care what the owner did, as long as he kept himself discreet.

Rumor had it among the local Nosferatu that a young Brujah, one Alexander Harris, had been appointed the Prince of this town, and not only that, he'd taken over this club. Of course, among the Nosferatu, rumor might as well be fact, they knew just about everything.

He felt eyes watching him. He glanced over, scanning the crowd, and finding the owner. He took a quick double-take, then walked towards the occupied booth, taking a seat and facing the woman.

"Hello, Serena." He spoke, some sadness in his voice as he did.

Serena nodded to Wilhem, sighing lightly. "Wilhem, it's been a long time."

Wilhem replied. "A little over nine hundred years. I thought you'd been killed."

Serena laughed bitterly. "So did Christof. I find it helps keep those damned Giovanni off my back, though. The last thing I need is a thirsty inbred Giovanni fool deciding I'd be useful as a snack."

Wilhem nodded. He'd always had respect for the Cappadocian clan, and had mourned the loss of his allies and the loss of wisdom in the world, when Augustus Giovanni had stolen the power of his sire and supplanted his family in place of the Cappadocian clan.

Serena sipped from her glass, looking at Wilhem. "So, old friend. Why are you here?"

Wilhem shrugged. "I came to investigate whatever it is the Sabbat find so interesting about this town. Interesting enough to end up dead on a regular basis, in any case."

Serena glanced at him suspiciously. "I assume you're here on Ecaterina's orders. You followed her for a long time, after all.."

Wilhem shook his head. "I've never been accused of being the brightest of men, but Ecaterina and I have parted ways. The longer I served her the more I realized Christof was right. Despite herself and her ideals, she slowly walked away from our true cause without even realizing it."

Serena nodded. "Such is the nature of the Beast." She spoke sagely.

Wilhem sighed. He rubbed his eyes, refocusing on her. "So, what is going on in this town?"

Serena shrugged, taking another sip. "This town is sitting on top of a weakened barrier between this realm and the next, the realm of Hell. There is great power here, but it can never be used well or wisely. I asked Christof to be a guardian for this place sixty years ago, but he declined. I was surprised when I heard he actually managed to wipe out the Antediluvians."

Wilhem nodded. "I didn't think it possible, myself. Christof was always...unique, among us Kindred, but to consider that one such as he could manage to kill all those surviving was more than surprising, especially to Ecaterina."

Serena smiled slightly. "She never did like surprises."

Wilhem chuckled lowly. "Agreed. She never did. Mind you, she was pleased she wouldn't be eaten, and the fact that she Embraced the one who stopped them was quite a source of pride for her. It also made her back away from even trying to contact Christof, she's afraid of him."

Serena smirked. "Who wouldn't be? Other than the total moron, of course."

Wilhem grinned. "Of course. So, why are you here, Serena?"

Serena sighed. "I've grown tired, old friend. I can't guard this place anymore. I'm being called to blissful oblivion and I no longer wish to avoid it. I long to feel nothingness, Wilhem. But until one takes my place as guardian of this place, I cannot afford to leave."

Wilhem shook his head. "And now that I'm here, you want to ask me?"

Serena smiled slightly. "No, Wilhem. Somebody else I have in mind, all I have to do is ensure he survives long enough to do it."

Xander walked alongside Allandra through the many graveyards of Sunnydale. Xander had his katana tucked into its sheath on his back, while Allandra walked with her wings concealed under her trenchcoat.

Xander was full of concern as Allandra spoke to him. "I think those..images I saw were of my father. Or through my father. I'm not sure, exactly. I just know that presence, the one called Ifrit, is extremely powerful. I think the only reason I was able to expel him from my mind was because I never let him in in the first place, and he overextended himself."

Xander nodded slowly, steering the both of them down the street to Sandra's flat. "So we're dealing with some old guy, huh? I think Sandra mentioned him when she was trying to figure out ol' Nicky's whip-master."

Allandra sighed, hugging herself tightly. Xander wrapped one of his arms around her shoulder, and she looked up at him, giving him a slight smile.

They walked up to Sandra's door and Allandra knocked. The door opened, revealing Sandra. She nodded to the both of them. Standing aside, she gave them room to walk in, and they did so uninvited.

Sandra spoke. "Can I offer you some tea, Xander, Allandra?"

Xander shook his head. "Sorry, it's not in the diet." He sighed, not really missing the idea of tea, but even the option has been taken away from him now.

Allandra patted Xander on the shoulder and nodded to Sandra. "I'll have a cup, thanks."

As Sandra poured the cup and placed the tea bag in, Xander asked. "So, where's Vanessa, Jack, and Oz?"

Sandra handed the cup to Allandra, who quietly spoke her thanks, and Sandra replied to Xander. "They're in the basement. Jack is running through a training regimen with Vanessa. I believe Oz is simply enjoying the show, as it were."

Xander nodded. "Well, can't blame the guy. Shall we?"

The three of them went downstairs into the basement, which had been converted into a small gym. In the center stood Jack, who stood in a defensive, almost snakelike stance, while Vanessa was attacking him with strong and fast blows. Oz was watching from the sidelines, drinking from a bottle of Diet Coke.

Jack seemed to be losing the match, though if he truly was, he was doing it slowly. Vanessa was definitely stronger, due to her status as a Slayer, but Jack had experience on his side.

Vanessa struck out at Jack's chest with a kick, which he twisted out of the way of, and he retaliated with a kick of his own. While he managed to hit Vanessa, it did little damage, and she grabbed his foot and twisted in a move that would break most people's legs.

Jack, however, twisted with the momentum and rolled onto the floor, springing to his feet in an easy motion and returning to his defensive stance. Vanessa moved towards Jack cautiously, knowing a single mistake and Jack would show her just how bad overconfidence can be. Ducking low, she tried to get under his guard, but Jack struck down in a whiplike motion and deflected her attack. In a moment, he gripped her wrist and flipped her over his head.

She rolled to her feet, turning towards Jack in a neutral stance. Jack closed the distance between them in a single fluid motion and struck towards Vanessa's face with his palm. Vanessa twisted her face out of the way, ducking under the attack and countering with an attack to Jack's stomach. Jack grunted as he took the blow, but even as the pain registered in his mind, he'd already driven his knee into Vanessa's belly. She groaned with the impact and backed off.

Breathing heavily, both combatants paused, and as one, each placed their right fist into the open palm of their left hands and bowed.

Oz clapped lightly, while Allandra stood in amazement at the display, at the sheer level of skill involved in the fight. Xander chimed in with the comment. "Nice moves! Very Jackie Chan and Jet Li!"

Jack turned and looked at Xander with a raised eyebrow, speaking. "Who?"

Vanessa slapped his arm, chuckling. "You never watch movies, do you, Master?"

Jack shrugged. "For some reason, they bore me."

She snorted and turned to Xander. "Whenever he watches fight scenes in movies he can't help but say what the character should have done instead of following the choreography."

Xander grinned. "Well, you would have to admit, way too many of them were made badly, even in my day. Can't help but wonder how cheesy they've gotten nowadays."

Vanessa blinked and looked at Xander, incredulous. "You call our movies cheesy!? What were you watching back then, huh?"

Xander shrugged. "Only the best movie series of all time. The original Star Wars Trilogy, digitally remastered!"

Vanessa rolled her eyes. "Oh come on, those movies have nothing on the ones that came later."

Xander shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Can't say I care much though."

Allandra just crossed her arms, tugging her red locks of hair back. "Excuse me. I hate to break this up, but I was hoping we could pool some knowledge together about a few things that have arisen, so we might have some answers?"

Sandra spoke up. "Of course. What is it?"

Allandra took a deep breath, and began. "Earlier tonight, as Xander and I were coming back from Los Angeles, I felt some..thing, try and force its way into my mind. I saw a battle, from what appeared to be a long time ago. There was a creature called The Judge, it killed so many people, but it was defeated."

Xander spoke. "Whoa. That couldn't have been fun."

The group all looked at Xander curiously, save for Oz, who knew the story already. Xander shrugged. "The Judge was reassembled in 1997, by Spike and his then-love interest, Drusilla. We blew him up with a rocket launcher and separated all the little Judge-bits left over. Though, there wasn't that much left over..."

Sandra nodded. Vanessa blinked, obviously never having considered using a rocket launcher on a demon. Jack just grinned, giving Xander a little salute.

Allandra went on. "After that, I saw a...hideous thing, he was huge. Great black wings, lava flowing under his skin like it was his blood.." She shook her head, trying to recall every detail she could. "It...he...we..saw a scene where he and another demon were arguing. The other one looked kind of like him, but he was definitely somebody else."

Sandra's voice intruded, her tone displaying her curiosity. "Did you catch their names, Allandra?"

Allandra nodded slowly. "The older, stronger one was called Ifrit...something like that. The other one..had my father's name, Alleron."

Sandra pursed her lips together. "I'll have to-"

She was cut off by three voices speaking in tandem, Xander's Vanessa's, and Jack's. "Research!"

Sandra sighed, and gestured to Allandra to continue. Allandra nodded and went on. "The..presence, this Ifrit was demanding me to tell him where my father was last. I think on some level I knew, but I refused to tell him and I managed to get him out of my mind. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done."

Sandra chewed on her lip and spoke. "I know of a single being known as Ifrit. Many ages ago he was cast down into a hell dimension as punishment for rebellion. However, very few things can leave that particular hell dimension, and the more powerful the demon, the harder it is for one to leave. I doubt that Ifrit, or this Alleron, could have left under normal circumstances."

Xander couldn't help but snort. "Um, Hellmouth, remember? No such thing as normal around here."

Three hours later, Sandra strode into the living room carrying a book in one hand and a teacup in the other. Sandra handed Allandra the book and asked. "Is this what you saw in your vision?"

Allandra looked down at the page and nodded. "That's him."

The group looked at Sandra expectantly, hoping an explanation would be forthcoming.

Sandra took a sip from her cup, mulling over what to say next. "All of the texts I've managed to cross-reference have laid out a rather long history, but I will attempt to shorten it."

Xander sighed and leaned over to Vanessa, whispering in her ear. "Ten bucks says her idea of short still takes longer than ten minutes."

Vanessa grinned and whispered back. "You're on, boyo."

Sandra glared at them both, and they quieted down, not noticing Xander discreetly setting his watch. He gestured to her to go on. She gave him a suspicious glance and began. "All of you know that the world did not begin in paradise, it could have been rather accurately described as a hell dimension. It was a world covered in darkness, the demons flowed about throughout the world, claiming ownership of all before them. Then the celestial host appeared.

"In their mission, which was to bring light and balanced life to the universe, they all came together and using their combined powers, shifted this world out of the darkness and turning it into a world suited to mortal creatures. Ifrit is the one credited with..well, burning back the blanket of darkness."

Jack spoke up. "Um..wha? Run that by me again, please, this time in a form I understand."

Sandra rolled her eyes, sighing. "Very well. Ifrit is the one who created all sources of light and heat, it was he who laid the groundwork, as it were, for the sun."

Xander whistled slowly. "Now that's impressive. Making a sun...very nice."

Sandra nodded. "Then when man came, they created a safe haven for mankind. Due to our own nature, however, mankind spread forth to satisfy our curiosity about the world. Soon after that, Lucifer and his followers rebelled against their brethren. Ifrit was among Lucifer's most loyal supporters and trusted generals. When the war was lost, Lucifer was cast out into the Abyss, one of the..well, worse hell dimensions there are.

"Ifrit, however, did not fall in the same swoop. Using his tactics and cunning, he managed evade the higher powers for a century. When he was finally captured, the leader of the celestial host considered sending Ifrit to the Abyss as well, but they realized that attempting to do so would have also reopened the gateway from both ends, allowing those already imprisoned a possible way to escape.

"They reached a conclusion. They stripped Ifrit of most of his powers and sent him into another hell dimension, one that is now, much like our world was before the demons were banished. Not a great deal was known after that for eight thousand years or so until the Tear."

Allandra blinked, she somehow knew the importance of that word. "The Tear? What is that?"

Sandra nodded to Allandra. "The Tear is what is referred to, in mystical circles, after the sacrifice of Christ. The rules changed over the century after his death. Crosses, previously a symbol of fear and judgement became a holy symbol. But more specifically, it refers to the time between his death and resurrection. Over those days, the dimensional barriers between our world and others weakened. Some creatures, both of light and darkness emerged in that time. It is also rumored this is when the Gate was created, so some of the more powerful of mages could exploit the new opportunity presented.

"It was then a warrior known as Alleron emerged. It is said that he became a Champion, a force for justice. He is credited with the tracking down and destruction of Settesh."

Vanessa frowned. "Wait..I know this one. Egyptian god, right?"

Sandra smiled slightly. "Yes. Also known as Sutkeh, or Set, or even in some circles as Typhon, a dark and evil god. After Christ's sacrifice his loyal followers attempted to resurrect him, and they managed it, only for Alleron to appear and seal him away. Following the records, it appears Alleron was a demon of some sort, but he was incredibly powerful and skilled. He made contact with a scribe, who wrote his stories down and distributed them throughout Europe, which proved to be a mistake. The scribe was...ahh...burned at the stake for consorting with the dark powers."

Allandra spoke up hesitantly. "Is it possible...that...that Alleron was Ifrit's son, and a Devil Knight?"

Sandra nodded. "It is more than possible, it's extremely likely. Though my records are somewhat fragmented, it would take something or someone of extremely honed skill and properly channeled power to manage a few of the feats that this Alleron is credited with. It's almost a certainty, considering some of the names that the Watchers have found demons uttering at him."

Oz raised an eyebrow. "Like?"

Sandra shrugged. "Hunter of Demons, Eternal Enemy, The Great Traitor, and some various others that I truly do not wish to translate as they are simply...nasty."

Xander grinned a bit. "I bet."

Sandra sighed, continuing. "In any case, Alleron managed to leave a record of his home dimension before he left for parts unknown. He reported that his home was ruled by many different Lords, each with their own strengths and weaknesses, and more often than not, conflicting agendas. His father was one of them, one of the stronger ones, and Alleron became tired of the constant wars he was put into for little purpose.

"He eventually rebelled against his father and fled through the weakened dimensional barriers, ending up here. After building quite a reputation among some circles, he disappeared after a thousand years. It was assumed he was killed, though if Allandra truly is Alleron's daughter, that obviously would not have been the case." Sandra finished slowly, looking at Allandra for her reaction.

Allandra sighed and hugged herself, her wings twitching underneath her coat. "I just...I remember my father as a kind man. I...I just..can't see him as a demon."

Jack spoke up. "Hey, sorry kiddo, but appearances are often deceiving, you know. Something like this you can't easily change or ignore. You gotta live with it, doesn't mean it's got to rule you though."

Xander looked at Jack with a little bit of surprise. "Man, how did you sound like Yoda and a redneck at the same time?"

Vanessa giggled. "He does, doesn't he?"

Allandra broke out into a small smile, realizing the exchange wasn't about insults or pop culture, but a simple attempt to lighten the mood.

Jack did his best to look offended. "Hey, I am not a little short green thing with bad grammar. Besides, do you see me saying 'use the Force' or 'trust in your feelings,'?"

Vanessa nodded vigorously. "Yep, you used that second one there alright, Master. You spouted it at me every other day when you were hammering in all those techniques into my brain."

Jack shrugged. "So sue me, you had a thick skull. I thought movie quotes was the fastest way in."

Allandra looked at Jack, an eyebrow raised. "I thought you didn't watch movies?" She asked in a teasing tone.

Jack shrugged. "Okay, I lied. I'm with the kid on this one, the original trilogy was the best."

Vanessa threw her hands up in defeat, while Sandra fought hard to conceal the grin on her face. Xander didn't bother hiding his. He sat down next to Allandra and wrapped his arm around her. She leaned into him, glad for the fact that she could, despite her changes, have some good friends.

Beth attempted, for the fiftieth time, to repair her face to its own, natural form. For the fiftieth time, she screamed in frustration as she failed.

Looking into the empty mirror with a growl, she hurled it across the small room she was hiding in. "That little bastard! How dare he kill Spike! He was useless! He was nobody! He was just a normal guy and he was turned into a freak! He doesn't deserve to kill my Spike!" She yelled, as if reality itself would alter to fit her deranged ravings.

Here she was. Her sire, dead, at the hand of somebody who could barely keep himself from getting killed in life. Her ghouls, disappeared, and she wasn't able to reestablish contact with them in time to keep them from dying. That was the pain with long-term ghouls. They died the moment they no longer had vampire blood in their systems.

Her War Ghouls were all killed in their underground haven, when their group smashed in. She had no resources, no friends, many enemies and she wasn't good enough to figure out a way out. She could fight, and that was about it.

She pounded the wall in frustration as the grinning face of Xander Harris appeared in her mind's eye again, as if mocking her.

She felt a presence in the room with her. She looked around, her eyes scanning every shadow, every crevice, every possible place someone could be hiding. 'If it's one of those damned Nossies, I swear I'll wipe every last one of them out of this town!'

A voice echoed from behind her. "You can't stop him, you know."

She whirled around to face...herself. Her doppleganger was ethereal, and she appeared as she did before she was turned into one of the Tzimisce. Or at least as far as Beth could remember. She hadn't thought too much about her appearance after being turned, with her inability to actually use a mirror.

Buffy Summers, the wraith, crossed her arms and glared at her undead counterpart. Beth couldn't help but flinch, but then she straightened up and stared her former self down. "You're just a spirit, you can't hurt me. Begone spirit, I've more important things to worry about!"

Buffy smirked, and advanced on the demon occupying her body. "You don't get it, do you? You share my mind and yet you still don't get it. Xander is far, far more than you know." Beth backed up, instinctively trying to keep the spirit from touching her. "He'll never stop. He'll fight you to the last. He will kill you, and he won't do it out of hatred, or pain, or even because it's his job. He'll do it because he pities you, Beth."

Beth's back came up against a wall, and her wraithly counterpart got right up to her face, staring into her own eyes with such contempt, it made Beth's stomach flip. "Don't you get it, Beth? He's the heart. He's the soul You've got nothing on him, you stupid bitch."

Buffy strode through Beth, leaving chills to flow through her undead body, causing Beth to shudder and hug herself tightly, trying to banish the oppressive chills.

Somewhere, in the infinite stretches of the multiverse, ten beings sat around a table.

These creatures had not met each other for several thousand years, these meetings were nearly completely unneeded, save for the events that had transpired in several different universes.

One being, which appeared to be made out of volcanic rock, was speaking to the one at the head of the table, who appeared to be a regular human. "Our forces, working through Wolfram and Hart, have failed to set the Apocalypse on schedule. The Wyrm was weakened and banished. The estimated cost to bring the Wyrm back up to even one-quarter of it's previous strength is approximately ten trillon souls..."

The leader, the human, shook his head. "We're not going to cause an Apocalypse there. It was against my recommendations from the beginning and it is simply not cost-effective. Now that the previous Senior Partners are no longer in charge, I will be doing things differently."

Another being stood up, a being that looked deceptively angelic. "But sir! It is our mandate to bring every universe into chaos and destruction! It has been since...well, the War."

The leader sighed. "That mandate was set by the First, if you'll recall. The First is out of the picture, it will be ignored and countermanded until such a time as the means to seal it has been found."

Another being, which was the stereotypical devil with a pitchfork, turned to the leader and growled. "Then what do you suggest, Kyannar? We sit around and twiddle our thumbs while we let the mortal beings spread like a plague across the multiverse? I despise that line of thinking."

Kyannar smirked, and stood up, slowly circling the table and all of the evil beings sitting around it, clasping his hands behind his back. "I ask you all, gentlemen. What is the most valuable thing in the multiverse?"

The other nine beings looked at each other, thinking up their own answers. Finally, four of them spoke. "The destruction of the lesser beings." "The reclamation of everything we have lost." "The corruption of the higher beings and turning them to our side." "To ascend and grow more powerful than the higher beings."

Kyannar snorted and shook his head. "Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong. Do you not see, all of those things are pitiful and worthless. To destroy our enemy is to leave nothing to fight against, we would destroy each other. To destroy the lesser beings is to rob ourselves of slaves and power. It is impossible to reclaim everything we have lost, but we can move past it all. Ascension is a noble goal, but an impractical one, especially when you consider no higher being will allow one of us to as long as we are bound."

The first being spoke hesitantly now. "Then what is it, General Kyannar?"

Kyannar sat down in his chair and smirked, folding his hands in front of him. "Souls."

Every other creature looked at him in amazement. "Souls? They're nearly worthless, there are trillions upon trillions of them in every universe! You may as well have said grains of sand!" The angelic one exclaimed.

Kyannar lifted his hand, and the angelic creature clasped at his throat. He let out a strangled scream as he was lifted into the air, dangling above the table.

Kyannar twisted his hand suddenly, and there was a loud snap, the angelic being's head twisting at an unnatural angle. It fell, to rest on the table as nothing more than a cooling corpse. Every being watched in horror as a dark shape emerged from the body, only for Kyannar to extend his hand and suck the essence in.

Kyannar stood up from his seat, contemptuously shoving the body off the table. "Now listen. Every time the previous administration attempted an apocalypse, on any world, more often than not it forced the people to band together to fight and defeat the threat enmasse. In the cases where the apocalypse wins out, billions of the mortal creatures die, but over half of them march into the higher planes and become warriors of the other side."

Every being nodded at that.

Kyannar continued. "In the end, under the First's mandate, it would result in the other side being more powerful than our own, because they do not in-fight with each other. Under my mandate, things will be very different."

The volcanic being hesitantly put up his hand and spoke. "What..is your mandate, General Kyannar?"

Kyannar smiled darkly. "It's simple. Souls are the source of power for our armies. Souls grant those escaped from the Abyss their powers. Souls are what the descendants of Caine to live for ages and to use their abilities. Souls give the mages of all realms their potential. In one universe, the soul of one man allowed him to destroy an evil god and remake his world. In short, gentlemen, souls are far more valuable than you can ever give credit."

Kyannar sat down, folding his hands on the table, smiling. "So what I will do is prevent the other side from getting them."

The devil with a pitchfork asked, his eyes twinkling with the thought. "And what do you propose on how to do that?"

Kyannar grinned now. "It's simple. Hope gives people light, a chance, a way of dealing with the worst of horrors. And while it is impossible to truly remove hope, all we need to do is remove all appearances of it. With corruption running everywhere in the world, with darkness and decay with pain and misery and agony everywhere, mortal beings will sell their souls to us by the score to escape that pain. Our powers and armies will grow by the score while the other side's growth turns into a trickle. In time, like all mortal things, their entire species will die out, and then we will have our day of reckoning with those who defeated us."

Kyannar stood from his chair and glanced at every creature still alive. "Now, you are dismissed. And..get rid of that." He spoke, gesturing to the corpse.

Once all of his lessers had departed, Kyannar opened a report.

He smiled in amusement as he read of Ifrit's progress, and his current situation. He spoke to himself. "Well old friend, it seems despite my warning you may be in over your head. I think this shall be entertaining."

A woman strode through the darkness of Sunnydale's night, along a darkened street. Behind her, a vampire of the demonic variety was sneaking up on her, licking his lips in anticipation at the terror of his victim and the taste of her blood.

Just as he was about to grab her, she whirled around and slugged him across the jaw, sending him to fall on the pavement. He growled and climbed to his feet, stopping and his eyes widening in fear as he looked at her face.

"It can't be! You things don't exist! You soul eating freaks!" He exclaimed.

A burning sensation began to spread through his body, and he screamed as his body ignited as if it had been exposed to the light of the sun.

Moments later, a pile of ash was left on the sidewalk, and the woman sighed and walked away, muttering lowly. "I am sorry for the pain I have caused you, but I cannot allow you to roam free."

From some distance away, Ifrit stood on top of a roof, having watched the exchange. He crossed his arms and frowned to himself. Turning, he launched himself into the air, landing more than a mile away, and he walked into an old church.

Walking up to the altar, he brushed his hair to the side, looking up at the cross.

A voice from behind him spoke. "Well, this is one helluva joint ya got here. Do you like the cobwebs and rottin' furniture, or have ya just not gotten around to callin' a maid?"

Ifrit rolled his eyes, turning around and glancing at the owner of the voice. "This place suits me. Faith gone to waste, corrupted and darkened. I like the atmosphere."

The man, dressed as a gothic punk-rocker, complete with blue mohawk, shrugged. "Whatever floats yer boat, mate."

Ifrit turned again, looking back at the cross. "Why do you insist on that ridiculous ensemble, Abdul. We both know you're not an imbecile or a pathetic follower of that screeching noise known as punk music."

Abdul laughed, letting the accent drop. "I enjoy the misdirection. Nobody expects someone like me to outwit them when I dress like this. Besides, it's been my favorite disguise for a while, though if you prefer.."

Abdul's features rippled and altered until he appeared to be a large bald, black man.

Ifrit nodded approvingly. "Good. You have two targets, Abdul."

Abdul nodded. "Alright, shoot. Who do you want killed?"

Ifrit sized Abdul up, nodding to himself as he considered him up to the task. "The first is a woman descended from myself. The daughter of Alleron."

Abdul raised an eyebrow. "That'll cost you extra. Especially if old daddy is still hanging around."

Ifrit smirked. "I can assure you, he's not. He's currently...indisposed, shall we say."

Abdul nodded, relaxing visibly. "Alright. What's her name?"

"Allandra." Ifrit replied.

Abdul nodded. "And the second?"

Ifrit smiled slightly. "A new arrival. I've no doubt you can handle this one."

Abdul smirked. "There's very little I can't handle, pal. Who is it?"

Ifrit crossed his arms, his eyes coming alight with flames. "One of the three-eyed."

Well, there ya go. Part 19. Enjoy, and please review.

Sorry it took so long, but what can I say, working is rather tiring. Ah well.

See you guys later.

Nick.