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Chapter 4: Epilogue

1 January 2141

Today is the eightieth anniversary of my sister's death. Buffy Anne Andrews, née Summers died on 1 January 2061 at the age of seventy-nine, surrounded by the Slayers she helped create, her husband James and her children and grandchildren.

I was there too, looking somewhat out of place. Buffy had aged as a mortal should, but even though I had changed my appearance over the years, I looked as young as Buffy did when she first met me.

Even though we had fallen out over the years, she was still grateful I was there. There were things she found hard to forgive, such as the Slayer massacre of 2040 when twenty died. I was nearby, but the rule of neutrality forbade me to interfere. My sister did not speak to me for two years.

Mr Giles died in 2035. Although he had pledged his soul to the now-dead Eyghon, I managed to plead his case to the immortals who judge the dead souls. Giles was granted exemption and resides in Heaven. During the last few years of his life, he lived with Buffy and her family. She looked after him as he had her, and it smoothed down many of her rough edges.

Both Willow and Xander died within days of each other. In truth I think they never wanted it any other way. Both had married and moved back to America, living in San Francisco and Chicago respectively. Xander's construction empire became international, and he eventually left behind the supernatural day-to-day fighting. We met up a lot.

Willow's wife was a Slayer and she ran the San Francisco hub. Although they decided not to have children, they were devoted godparents to each of Xander's three.

Faith lived for the slaying life and never settled down. She was one of the ones killed in 2040. Officially she'd retired and shouldn't have been fighting, but it was only supposed to be a training exercise with no demons. She left behind a daughter, who inherited her mother's Slayer blood. Hope Lehane, at thirty-four years old, avenged her mother by obliterating the tribe of demons who participated in the massacre. Hope's granddaughter still keeps in touch. She's called Faith.

And I?

I went to university, and worked in a variety of jobs translating texts. No one really questioned my age or lack of it; anti-aging treatments advanced a lot in this period so I was fine. I promised myself I would at least stay in this dimension until the people I knew were dead, then I would move on.

After Buffy's death I stayed here. James knew my true nature; his sister was a slayer and had introduced him to Buffy. When he died I buried him next to Buffy and visited Angel, Spike and Illyria for a while. Illyria had always treated me with respect; my true nature had never been hidden from her. She understood being in one vessel too; except she'd consumed the resident soul inside hers.

The four of us ran through the worlds for fifty years. I explored dimensions through the eyes of vampires, and Illyria and I bonded over their excitement.

I had many partners over the years. I reasoned that once I left for the immortal plane, it was unlikely I would return for some time, if ever. I wished to take while I could. I lived with the last one for thirty years after leaving Angel and his group; I changed my appearance to mimic his aging so he would never know my true status.

And now he is dead. It is time for me to leave this existence now and join the others. The Slayer line continues, Glorificus is dead and I have served my purpose.

Today is a new dawn.

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Okay, this is the actual end now. Thank you for reading. Please review.