Willow studied herself in the mirror, which had many flecks of dirt smudging it. She absently scrubbed at a few blemishes, before concentrating hard on her reflection. According to Tara, if she cleared her mind of all clutter and stopped her brain churning at its usual cogwheel-rate, she would be able to witness her aura, or the electromagnetic presence surrounding her. The trouble was, thinking about mind clearing was a little counterproductive. Her brain took fiendish delight in conjuring up random images, messing up every attempt.

The cold bowl of the sink numbed her hands when she gripped onto it, bringing her to the dim realisation that she was possibly trying too hard. She tried to iron out the wrinkled frown from her forehead. Tara said that it was easier to spot someone's aura in a mirror with extended practice. You didn't even need to be a witch to see it. Any old fool could pick out an aura with some sort of observation.

Yeah, right. So why couldn't she see it?

"Willow? I sort of need the bathroom now. Can you unlock the door? I know you're staring at the mirror again."

"Just a minute, Tare." Willow gave up all hope of ever actually viewing her aura and mentally unlocked the latch. The door swung open, revealing Tara bending for the now out of reach handle. The blonde Wiccan sighed, but smiled as well.

"You're getting real good at magic, baby."

Willow beamed. "I know, right? I couldn't have done that three months ago. It feels really great. Like, I just think hard enough, and - poof!"

"At this rate, you'll probably be better than me." Tara patted Willow on the shoulder. "I can sense your magic is very powerful."

"It's only because you've been helping me, that I can even do this stuff," Willow replied, modest. She left the bathroom, flopping onto her college single bed. Tara's bed was nearer the wardrobe, but hers had the desk lamp; perfect for a bit of night time reading, studying, or cramming. With the patrols recently, she barely got the time to keep up with her college coursework. The walks were tougher and required more magic for safety. Willow and Tara both could cast some offensive spells, although it involved mainly just knocking opponents around a few feet or so. Their best asset involved shielding. At the right moment, they could cast it so an enemy bounced off it in an amusing way when they attacked. Tara's defensive spell originally acted as a sort of weak lucky charm, but Willow added her own innovations by combining spells - coming up with a newer and stay more alive version.

The only disadvantage - it drained a lot of energy. So it was usually more tactically sound to spring it up just before a hit.

Willow waited patiently for Tara to come out, legs criss-crossed in the air. She found an annoying strand of hair and chewed, nibbling right through it. Of course, this meant the piece of hair was now stuck on her tongue. She was just attempting to pluck it off, unsuccessfully, when the bed compressed beside her. Tara placed an arm over Willow and hovered.

"What are you doing? Silly." She poked Willow on the nose. After the initial squeal, Willow stuck out her tongue, replying:

"Can you see any hair on my tongue?"

"Um…" Tara leaned into Willow's back. "I don't see it?"

"Maybe you need to take a closer look…?"

"Maybe I will." Tara kissed Willow on the ear, on the tip of her eyelashes, underneath her nose, finishing with her top lip and between her eyebrows. "What's going on in there? You look so intense." She stroked the back of Willow's head.

"You, mostly," Willow giggled like a schoolgirl. Turning, she delivered a quick peck at the corner of Tara's mouth, before finding the offending strand of hair on her tongue for real and spittingit out.

The blonde Wiccan snickered. "Gross. You're like a cat coughing up a furball."

"Meow." Willow rolled, and Tara fell into place by her side, messing up the bedcovers.

"So… you're thinking about me?" Tara walked her fingers over Willow's forehead.

"Maybe a little." Willow moved in for a second, more sensual kiss. Tara gently nudged Willow onto her back and moved above, pressing their bodies together in an intimate embrace. Their mouths continued to build up rhythm. Their hearts raced.

Tara broke contact, breathing deeply as she bumped foreheads with Willow.

"Not bad," she managed between shaky gasps. "P-pretty convincing demonstration."

Willow pouted, wriggling underneath like a fish. "Just pretty convincing?"

"I'd say… a silver. Silver medal. The shiny kind."

"Huh. Can I, um, get a gold for Tongue Gymnastics, then?"

Tara laughed, peppering Willow's cheek. Willow in turn pretended to fend off the barrage, trying to move out of reach of the kisses when it was pretty obvious she only had a few inches to move either way.

Tara stopped the assault and raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "I'll think about it. You did qualify through the preliminary rounds, after all…" Her fingers started inching.

Willow bit back a moan when Tara's hand crept under the hem of her top, reaching up to her bra-line and teasing the itchy skin there. It tickled. Outrageously. Willow squealed and shoved Tara over, igniting the tickle war.

By the time they both finished their attempted torture on each other, Tara's voice was weak with mirth as she tried in vain to slap away extra tickle attempts. They flumped in each other's arms, occasionally shaking in a fresh bout of random giggles. It took quite some time for them to calm down.

When they did, Tara absently raised one hand up as though reaching for the ceiling. She moved her arm in a slow, languid motion. Willow watched as Tara pointed out each small crack on the plastered surface - including the spider in the far corner, curled up into a tiny ball.

"What do you see?" Willow asked, envious. She knew Tara saw the world through vibrant auras, sensing people's moods as glimmerings of colour. Tara waved her arm from side to side.

"Soft gold, like a dim light. The room is white and grey. The spider is green."

"Green?" Willow squinted at the spider, as if willing herself to see the same thing.

Nope. All she saw was a rather ugly, and creepy looking creature in the corner.

"Cold green," Tara nodded confirmation.

"And me?"

"Blue and pink. Calm blue, like the sky. Pink with love, and a tinge of gold on the outer edges."

Willow smiled. "That sounds nice."

"You were red, earlier. Discontented." Tara frowned worry, letting her elbow rest on the bedcover.

"I just -" Willow sighed, "I just wish I could see the world like you do. It sounds like a dream."

"Sometimes." Tara traced patterns on Willow's arm. "But I see… bad things, sometimes. Feel them. When someone is particularly emotional, I sort of soak it up. Like a sponge."

"Oh?"

"Being near Faith - now Buffy - they can be terrifying, sometimes. It's because they're Slayers, Willow," she added at Willow's inquiring eyebrow.

"We know they are," Willow huffed. "They're still people before Slayers, though. They just have a little more… zing."

"That - t-that's not true, I think," Tara murmured. "Slayers aren't quite fully human. There's something inside them that makes it that way. A darkness in their auras…"

"Tare, you're scaring me, now."

"Sorry." Tara gave Willow a quick hug. "I didn't mean to. I'll stop…"

A loud wail interrupted the flow of conversation between them. Both girls jerked their heads towards the open window. Nervously, Willow moved and peered out to the University campus.

"Goddess!" She withdrew from the window, ashen-faced. "Goddess…"

"W-what?" Tara looked as well, hands digging into the windowsill. Willow backed away further and bent down to her backpack.

A cry of alarm slipped out of Tara. "Tell everyone. Get Faith and Buffy."

Willow nodded, rummaging through the contents for a cell phone. "Already on it!"

She fished it out and clutched it between two trembling hands, joining Tara. Originally the school compound below them had a few groups of students sitting on benches, or the freshly mown grass. None of them, above and below, were prepared for the shambling shadowy creatures rising out of the ground.

Two minotaurs and three vampires strolled amongst the startled and terrified students, happy to watch the spectacle as the black, shapeless monsters grasped onto their prey. The effect of contact with one of the creatures was not a happy one. Willow only needed to see one human crumble into dust, as though made out of porous rock, before she needed to resist the urge to be sick. With screams ringing outside, she held the phone to her ear, hands shaking as she waited for the call to connect.

"W-what are those, Tare? I've never seen t-those?"

"Me, neither." Tara chewed on her finger, pale faced. Both of them jumped when another scream echoed - this time from the corridor outside their dormitory.

Their eyes met. Automatically they reached out for each other.

"It'll b-be alright," Tara whispered. "We'll be a-alright."

Prague - Czech Republic - Europe.

The National Lyceum, vault of knowledge, was virtually denuded of all documents and books. Okay, so there were lots of shelves, just very empty ones. Angel had been expecting rows upon rows of books clogging the air with their ancient smell, maybe some scrolls neatly tucked in glass cases or piled up in pretty little piles. There was, however, an Almanac depicted on the far south wall, displaying a crude astronomical calendar of the sun and moon cycles around the earth.

Wesley didn't appear very impressed by the massively barren room. "I thought you said the Lyceum rivalled the Vatican in the knowledge department. Is this actually the main chamber, or some sort of false room?"

"This is the main chamber, Englishman. Do you really think we would be stupid enough to have powerful, dangerous tomes on display? You underestimate the security we employ." Vllk strolled amongst the empty shelves, craning his neck to the rows as though searching for something.

Faith fidgeted. "Don't see no security."

Vllk flashed her a thin smile. "We have two golems."

"Golems?" Now Wesley perked up in interest. "Really?"

"Mm. Relics of a bygone magical age. They patrol the premises. They are not the main security though. The real security is… ha!" His hand scrabbled along the bottom of the western shelf - and pulled out a scroll. Everyone blinked at Vllk in astonishment as he unravelled it.

"Well now," Wesley commented. He eyed the scroll speculatively.

"It's like he just pulled it out of thin air," Faith remarked.

Angel patted Faith's shoulder. "He probably did."

"Don't be foolish," Vllk said. He didn't bother adding an explanation to alleviate their confusion.

Wesley glanced at the deceptively empty shelves. "Are those shelves full of…?"

"Invisible documents, yes." Vllk pulled out his borrowed copies of the Prague Ascension Prophecy, and took everything to the nearby mahogany table, which had a small desk lantern on the side.

"Oh."

"Neat." Faith moved to one of the shelves and ran her hand over the surface. Her expression of interest fast faded into bewildered annoyance. "Hey! I don't feel anything."

"That's because they're in another plane of existence." Vllk raised an amused eyebrow. "I told you. We are hardly going to leave dangerous artefacts out on display. We have been safeguarding them for many years." He cocked his head to the side, addressing Wesley. "You were interested in the golems?" When Wesley nodded, Vllk indicated the two new arrivals just coming in from the eastern entrance. "Over there. The left pale brown one is Witiezslav, the right black one is Jan Hus."

Angel whistled at the sight of the two clay golems. Holy hell. Both were an impressive nine foot tall. They were shaped in a vaguely humanoid way, with their faces carved to lifelike perfection. Their bodies however, were lumpy and barrel-like. White symbols glowed on their chest cavities. Both golems approached the group. Faith teetered on the balls of her feet, nervous. Vllk ignored them. Wesley suddenly looked as though he was regretting his earlier intrigue.

The one known as Witiezslav spoke - in Czech. Vllk responded, sounding slightly irritated, giving a few flippant gestures with his hand. He still seemed engrossed in his study of the prophecies.

"What's going on?" Faith muttered to Angel.

"Don't look at me. It's all Dutch. Well…"

Jan Hus spoke then, a whirring sound emitting from it.

"The fuck?' Faith jumped, startled.

Vllk briefly looked up from his scrolls. "Jan Hus is adjusting their default language so you three can understand."

"Designated language, English." Jan Hus inclined its huge frame towards the group in a polite gesture. "Greetings." Its dark blue eyes were oddly piercing.

Wesley appeared taken back. "Oh, um. Greetings?"

The golem nodded, before facing Vllk. "I regret to inform you, master Vllk, that there has been a disturbance."

The old man growled, rubbing his temple vigorously. "This better be important."

"The safeguards around the Pit has been compromised. Neither Witiezslav or I can investigate fully, without risk of corruption to our data systems."

Now this got Vllk's attention, but still left Angel, Faith and Wesley hopelessly confused.

"Elaborate." The old man rested his fingers on the parts of the prophecies he'd skimmed up to.

Jan Hus and Witiezslav opened their mouths in response. Where their tongues should have been, instead rested small, Cyrillic scrolls - the binding enchantments used to animate their bodies. Resting on top of each scroll was a tiny artefact. Each golem took the artefact out of their mouths, and crowded around the table where Vllk worked to hand them over. Vllk detached himself from the documents and picked each artefact delicately out of the golem's boulder-like hands. He bundled them up, face compressing in trepidation and alarm. Witiezslav stepped backwards, turning its huge frame to face the Westerners. Jan Hus remained stationary.

"Impossible," Vllk spluttered. He glanced back down to the prophecies. His eyes blurred across the words.

Faith tapped her foot in irritation, attempting a staring match with Witiezslav. Angel glanced at the crusty old Czech with unease, identifying that his paling face was probably a good indication that they were in for some bad news. Very bad.

"What are those things?" Wesley didn't want to go anywhere near the golems, so instead attempted to crane his neck to see the artefacts nestled in Vllk's hand better.

Vllk ignored him for a moment, then looked up from the prophecies, pushing them away. He licked his lips. "I was right. I knew something was odd. Peculiar. Your version of the Prague Ascension Prophecy has been tampered with." He stood up, briefly leaning on the desk for support. "The date is wrong. You haven't got a few weeks to prevent the apocalypse." Vllk beckoned them all over. Cautiously, everyone shuffled closer, casting wary glances at the immobile golems. Angel didn't enjoy the sensation of snakes wriggling in his stomach very much.

"You have had… until about four hours ago to prevent the apocalypse."

Silence.

"What do you mean, four hours ago?" Wesley's voice tinged with panic.

"I mean," Vllk snapped, "That the apocalypse is already under way. The Darkwalkers have ascended." He scrunched up the prophecy scrolls in a fit of agitation. "Why didn't you people come sooner about this? Why didn't the Lyceum Guardians realise sooner? Why didn't anyone realise…" Angel involuntarily moved forwards to try and stop the old man from having a heart attack, but Vllk flinched violently away. Angel let his hands fall to his sides. Obviously the old man didn't trust vampires. And clearly not the one once known as Angelus.

"We didn't know. The Powers That Be… they were a little cryptic when they gave us the advice on the prophecy," Wesley said, chastened. "We spent weeks trying to bring Buffy into this world, because they insisted we'd lose without her. Then we spent a little more translating the language. We didn't know," he reiterated.

"At least with this… Buffy, that was one thing you did right," Vllk scowled. He flicked a glance to Faith. "And you claim that this Slayer is an accident. Yes?"

Faith narrowed her eyes.

"Not mentioned in the prophecy, or by the Powers." He regarded her in interest. "Fascinating, to be sure… perhaps we will have a use for you."

"Oh, will you."

Angel winced at Faith's tone.

"As it is, we are in a bit of trouble." Vllk brandished the artefacts in his palm. They glowed dull white.

"You don't say," Angel said.

Wesley harrumphed. "Are you ever actually going to explain what they are?"

"Yes. They're keys. Keys to a very dangerous area in Prague, which we refer to as the Pit. It is the same ones imprisoning the Darkwalkers mentioned in your Prophecy. The same ones now currently free, as according to this document."

Angel digested the news glumly. "Is that so?"

Vllk nodded. "The golems would only ever release the keys into this reality if there is a breach that they cannot risk investigating themselves, due to the destruction of the enchantment binding them together. I think that speaks for itself."

"I don't see the world falling down or anything," Faith observed.

Vllk gave her a withering stare. "Trust me, it is. The process of the Black Plague will spread out from each of the Hellmouths slowly - thanks to your council planting gate spells over each one in their ignorance. You have condemned the world." He directed the next stare at Wesley.

Faith tilted her head, processing the information. "So… what the hell we gonna do, then?"

Vllk shrugged. "Run."

Sunnydale - Faith and Voirrey's house.

Faith reached underneath her bed for the boots she remembered flinging away some weeks back. They were slightly worn, yet held their shape despite the various forces of evil they'd been forced to mash up over the months. Another happy discovery was the cellphone she forgot she'd even lost.

Buffy and Voirrey waited downstairs, maintaining some strange thread of conversation that got Faith escaping as soon as she could. They would all head over to Giles' place later and start the patrol from there.

Faith thought about the blonde Slayer. She no idea what the hell was going on between her and Buffy, personally. Did they hate each other? Tolerate each other as work buddies? Were they actual friends? And then there was the incident in the basement the day before. She scrubbed vigorously at her hair.

Because damn. There was some serious sparkage there. Okay, so there was deliberate provoking on Faith's part and some beating up as well, but still.

Someone's not been getting some… the Inner Slayer snickered.

You. Shut up, Faith snapped back.

She rammed on the boots and poked at her cellphone, only to find the battery completely drained. She sought out the charger, plugged into the wall beside her bed, and hooked the phone up. After the little beep and the battery icon flashed on her screen, she turned the cellphone on properly to check her backlog of messages or calls.

No messages. Four missed calls. Two answer phone messages. The older voicemail was at least two weeks old. Faith just never bothered checking it up. The message came from Voirrey, making sure she was okay on some random patrol night. The second was from someone she hadn't heard from in a long time; dated yesterday.

She leaned against the bed and put it to her ear.

Faith. There isn't long left for me, so I'll make this quick-ish. And it's strange because I know exactly when you'll get this message - a day later when you find your stupid cellphone under your bed because of your incompetence with putting things in a place so you can find them. But anyway, listen up.

I'm about to die. Which sucks. No way out of it for me, although I got this nice, splitting headache of a vision warning me that my number's up in a few minutes. I'm supposed to warn you that Sunnydale University will be under attack from some really nasty goons as you're listening, right now - and Willow and Tara are in danger. They'll try to call, but they won't be able to connect.

Faith barely blinked or inhaled as she continued to listen. Cordelia…

If you and Buffy go to the University to try and save Willow and Tara, both of you will die. Unless you do what I say. Cordelia paused. A few sharp gasps of breath came through the receiver, as though she was on the verge of hysteria. When she spoke again, her voice cracked. Christ. Waiting to die has never sucked so much. I'm going to miss you, you stupid slut.

Faith felt the base of her eyelids moisten. Miss you, too.

So as compensation, I refuse to let you die on me as well. I know you'll be all up for heroics because your two best friends are in danger - so here's a Get Out of Jail Free card, complete with long term end game plans. I guarantee the baddies won't be expecting this…

Faith sat rigid, her attention riveted to the message of her dead friend. When it finished, she didn't lower the cellphone from her ear for quite some time. Placing it at last into her jacket pocket, her eyes darted towards the bedroom window.

Goodbye.