Charmed: Elizabeth Turner

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Born with a sense of otherness, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Turner navigates her dual nature as a half-demon alongside her brother Cole, training rigorously to harness her powers while yearning for a life beyond servitude to the dark forces shaping their destiny.

2. Chapter 2: The Dark Age

Chapter 2: The Dark Age

November 13, 1997 – Friday

Sunnydale High

Philip Henry quickened his pace as he passed the sign that read Sunnydale High, its letters stark against the twilight. The shadows were growing longer, and the urgency in his chest pressed him forward. There had been no-one at the address he'd been given, an empty house staring back at him with vacant windows. This school was his next port of call, a last desperate hope. He had to see him, to warn him, to get help…

"Can I help you?" a gravelly voice broke his thoughts. The school custodian was nearby, emptying bins with a practiced indifference.

Philip turned to him, clutching at this small lifeline. "Rupert Giles. I need to see him."

The custodian's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Mr. Giles…he's our librarian. Next building along, first door on the left."

Without a word of thanks, Philip immediately headed off in the direction indicated, his feet moving faster than his racing heart. "You're welcome!" the custodian called after him sarcastically, but Philip had no time for politeness. He had heard stories about Giles, about what he was now. Maybe he could help him. They were all in danger now.

The school building loomed ahead, its bricks bathed in the dim glow of the setting sun. Just as he neared the entrance, Philip froze, a chilling sense of foreboding prickling at the back of his neck. He turned around, his breath catching in his throat. A woman stood in the shadows, her silhouette dark and menacing. "Oh god," he murmured. It had come for him.

She stepped out of the shadows, and his worst fears were realized. Her skin was decaying, hanging off in grotesque patches, yet she moved with a sinister grace. Her eyes glowed with a malevolent light, the power of the thing that possessed her shining through. Worse still, he knew her, as he had known he would. "Deirdre?"

Deirdre's lips twisted into a malicious smile. "Philip."

Panic surged through him, and he ran for the door, finding it locked. He hammered on it frantically, the metal cold and unyielding beneath his fists. "Help! Help! Somebody, please!" His voice echoed through the empty halls, a desperate cry swallowed by the silence. It suddenly occurred to him that Giles might not even be there. "God, no! Help!" His pleas grew more frantic, knowing every precious second was slipping away as Deirdre advanced, her dead eyes fixed on him with a predatory intensity.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In fact, Giles was in the library, but there was a good reason why he hadn't heard Philip's frantic banging. He was in the middle of an intense training session with Buffy. The library, usually a sanctuary of quiet and contemplation, was filled with the thumping rhythm of Buffy's aerobics routine. She was currently jumping on and off a box with a tireless energy that left Giles both impressed and exasperated.

The stereo blasted a pounding beat that reverberated off the walls, turning the library into an impromptu gymnasium. "Must we have this noise during your calisthenics?" Giles complained, his voice strained as he shouted above the din.

"It's not noise," Buffy corrected between jumps, her breath coming in quick, steady bursts, "It's music."

"I know music," Giles snapped, adjusting his glasses with an irritated gesture, "Music has notes. This is noise."

"I'm aerobising! I must have a beat!" Buffy insisted, her movements a blur of precision and strength.

Giles sighed, realizing the futility of arguing with her. "Wonderful. You work on your muscle tone while my brain dribbles out of my ears."

Buffy also wanted the music for another reason. The relentless beat, the physical exertion, it all served as a distraction from the gnawing thoughts that plagued her. She couldn't stop thinking about the dark secret she harbored—the secret that if Giles, Willow, and Xander ever found out, would change everything. That she was not just a Slayer. She was half-Slayer, half-demon, a contradiction that threatened to tear her world apart. The music was her shield, drowning out the fear and uncertainty that lurked in the corners of her mind.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Help me, somebody, please!" Philip shouted, his voice rising in desperation as he pounded on the door. The echoes of his pleas seemed to mock him, bouncing back from the silent walls.

Deirdre moved with terrifying swiftness, her decaying hands closing around his arm with a grip like iron. She yanked him away from the door effortlessly, her strength far superior to any human's. Her touch was icy, a stark contrast to the panic-fueled heat that coursed through Philip's veins.

With a cruel smile twisting her rotten features, Deirdre's other hand shot out, wrapping around Philip's throat. She began throttling him, her fingers digging into his flesh with merciless precision. Philip's eyes widened in shock and terror, his hands clawing at hers in a futile attempt to break free. He could feel his airways closing, every breath a painful struggle.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

At that moment, right when Philip's desperate cries had faded into an eerie silence, Buffy finished her session and turned off the music. The sudden absence of the pounding beat left the library in a tranquil hush. Giles breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away as the oppressive noise finally ceased.

"Very good," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a weary smile. "And the rest is silence."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Deirdre's malicious smile lingered as she dropped Philip's lifeless body to the floor with a sickening thud. His eyes, wide open in a final, silent scream, stared blankly at the ceiling. Deirdre stood over him for a moment, her grotesque features twisted with a strange satisfaction. Then, as if some unseen force had suddenly released her, she collapsed beside him, her body crumpling like a puppet with its strings cut.

Her decaying flesh began to bubble and melt, the noxious stench of decay intensifying as her form dissolved into a viscous, green goo. The transformation was swift, the once-human shape losing all structure and definition until nothing but a pulsating puddle of slime remained.

The green goo shimmered and shifted, almost alive with a malevolent energy. It spread outwards, inching across the floor with an unsettling purpose, until it reached Philip's motionless body. The ooze began to swirl around him, enveloping his limbs and torso in a sinister embrace. It moved with an eerie intelligence, seeping into his mouth and nostrils, merging with his very being.

Buffy considered her answer carefully, her eyes drifting as she painted the scene in her mind. "I'm on a beach," she began, her voice taking on a dreamy quality, "but not an American beach. One of those island beaches where the water's way too blue. I'm lying on my towel and it's just before sunset and Gavin Rossdale is massaging my feet."

"Oh, that's good," Willow gushed, her eyes wide with appreciation. She took a deep breath, ready to share her own fantasy. "I'm in Florence, Italy. I've rented a scooter which is parked outside and I'm in a little restaurant eating ziti. And there are no other tables so they have to sit this guy with me and it's John Cusack."

"Very impressive," Buffy complimented, a smile spreading across her face. "You have such an eye for detail."

Willow nodded enthusiastically. "'Cos with the ziti," she said, a sparkle in her eye.

"What are you two doing?" Xander asked, appearing suddenly as he joined them in the schoolyard, his curiosity piqued.

"Just playing a quick game of Anywhere but Here," Buffy told him, her tone light and playful.

"Ah." Xander nodded approvingly, understanding immediately. "Amy Yip at the water slide park."

Willow laughed, shaking her head. "You never come up with anything new," she noted, clearly amused by his predictability.

"I'm just not fickle like you two, okay?" Xander defended himself with a grin. "I'm constant with my affections. Amy Yip. At the water slide park."

Willow glanced across the yard to where Giles was deep in conversation with a student, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Do you think Giles ever played Anywhere but Here when he was at school?"

"Giles lived for school," Xander replied with a knowing smirk. "He's still bitter that there were only twelve grades."

Buffy nodded in agreement; her expression amused. "He probably sat in math thinking, 'There should be more math. This could be mathier.'"

"C'mon, you don't think he ever got restless as a kid?" Willow persisted; her curiosity not easily swayed.

"Are you kidding?" Buffy retorted, a mischievous glint in her eye. "His diapers were tweed."

As if on cue, Giles finished his conversation and began to walk toward them. "Hi, Giles!" Buffy called out, waving cheerfully.

"Hmm?" Giles looked up, slightly disoriented before realizing who had called to him. He approached them, a small smile playing on his lips. "There you are."

Buffy's eyes twinkled with teasing familiarity as she looked at his outfit. "Is that tweed?" she asked knowingly.

"What? Oh. Yes." Giles replied, glancing down at his jacket. For a moment, Buffy noticed a fleeting look of confusion in his eyes, a sign that something more was troubling him. It wasn't just the usual bewilderment at their banter; it was as if his mind was preoccupied with a heavier burden. But then he straightened, pushing whatever it was to the back of his mind.

For a fleeting second, Buffy felt a surge of panic as she wondered if Giles had somehow discovered her secret. Her heart raced, and she held her breath, waiting for any hint that he knew she was half-demon. When he didn't say anything about her secret, she breathed a small sigh of relief, the tension easing from her shoulders.

"Now, look, tonight is very important…" Giles said, his voice taking on a serious tone.

Buffy sighed theatrically, rolling her eyes in good-natured exasperation. "Now that's a surprise." She led the way into the school, her tone light but curious. "So, what's on tap tonight that's so important? Uprising? Prophesized ritual? Preordained deathfest?"

"Ah, the old standards," Xander mused, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm.

Giles gave a tight smile, acknowledging the humor but too focused to linger on it. "A medical transport is delivering the monthly supply of blood to the hospital," he explained.

Buffy immediately understood the implication, her expression turning serious. "Meals on wheels for vampires."

"Hopefully not. I'll meet you at the hospital at eight sharp. I'll bring the weapons," Giles said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"I'll bring the party mix," Buffy quipped, a smile tugging at her lips as she stopped by her locker.

Giles seemed to consider a response, his expression thoughtful, before he decided against it. "Just don't be late."

"Have I ever let you down?" Buffy retorted with a playful grin, her confidence unwavering.

Giles stared hard at her, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Do you want me to answer that or should I just glare?"

Before Buffy could retort, their conversation was interrupted by a cheery voice. "Morning, England!" Jenny Calendar approached them with a warm smile. As the school's computer teacher, Jenny was well-versed in technology, but less known was her knowledge of the supernatural as a techno-pagan. Her awareness of the demons and vampires that lurked in Sunnydale had made her a valuable ally on more than one occasion—and had even led to her intermittently dating Giles.

"Good morning, Miss... er, Jenny," Giles greeted her politely, though a flicker of something passed between them, unnoticed by most.

"Feel the passion," Willow muttered under her breath, earning a mild look from Jenny.

"Willow," Jenny said with a gentle admonishment.

Willow coughed, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Just coughing, not talking."

Jenny shifted her attention to Willow, her demeanor turning businesslike. "You still on for tomorrow?" she asked, referring to their plans.

"What's happening tomorrow?" Xander asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and mock horror.

"I'm reviewing computer basics for a couple of students who have fallen behind," Jenny explained with a patient smile, adjusting her glasses. "Willow's helping me out for extra credit."

Xander chuckled, shaking his head in sympathy. "Those poor schlubs, having to come in to school on Saturday."

Jenny's expression turned stony at his jest. "9am okay for you, Xander?" she asked pointedly, making it clear that punctuality was non-negotiable.

Buffy couldn't suppress a grin at Xander's expense. "I think you've got a bit of schlub on your shoe," she teased, nudging him lightly.

"Cordelia's meeting us there," Jenny added, attempting to lighten the mood.

Xander rolled his eyes dramatically. "Ooh, gang, did you hear that? A bonus day of school plus Cordelia. Throw in a bit of rectal surgery and it's my best day ever!" His sarcasm was thick, but his friends knew it was all in good humor.

Jenny glanced over at Giles, catching his eye. "Walk me to class?" she asked, her voice softening.

Giles nodded in agreement, falling into step beside her as they headed down the corridor.

"Aww, look at them," Buffy remarked, her voice tinged with warmth as she watched Giles and Jenny walk away, their figures silhouetted against the morning sunlight filtering through the trees.

"A twosome of cuteness," Xander agreed, his tone teasing yet fond, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Can't you just imagine them getting together?" Willow gushed, her eyes sparkling with a hint of matchmaking enthusiasm.

For a moment, the image of Giles and Jenny as a couple danced in their minds—his tweed jackets complementing her bright smiles, their shared knowledge and dedication intertwining into something more. Then they did try to think about something else—anything else.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Giles was in a relatively good mood as he arrived at the library, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows and casting a warm glow over the rows of dusty books. But his good mood evaporated instantly when he found three unexpected visitors waiting for him there—a smartly-dressed woman and two uniformed police officers.

"Rupert Giles?" the woman inquired, her voice firm and authoritative.

Giles eyed her cautiously, a ripple of apprehension tightening his jaw. "Yes?"

The woman flashed a police badge, catching the light briefly. "Detective Winslow. You're going to have to come with me."

Giles's brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "Why?"

"There was a homicide on the campus last night," Detective Winslow explained, her tone matter-of-fact. "The victim had no identification, but he was carrying a slip of paper with your name and address on him." She held up an evidence bag, the slip of paper inside clearly marked with Giles's information.

Giles stepped forward, his expression grave as he examined the evidence. "My name?" His mind raced, trying to piece together any connection to the unfortunate victim.

At that moment, Cordelia burst through the library doors with her usual flair, her frustration evident in her voice. "Well, evil just compounds evil, doesn't it?" she complained loudly, her eyes narrowing in irritation. "First I have an extra computer tutorial on Saturday. Now I have to read some computer book. There are books about computers? Aren't computers supposed to replace books?"

Giles sighed inwardly. Since Cordelia had become privy to the truth about vampires and Buffy's role as the Slayer, she had occasionally proven surprisingly helpful. Today, however, was not shaping up to be one of those days. "I'm a bit busy at the moment," he muttered, hoping to dissuade her from whatever impending request was brewing.

Cordelia, undeterred by Giles's preoccupied demeanor, noticed the police officers and her expression brightened momentarily. "Oh, great! You can help me out with my ticket. It's totally bogus. It was a one-way street; I was only going one way…"

Detective Winslow's stony expression deepened, her patience clearly wearing thin. "I'm with Homicide. I don't do parking tickets," she retorted, her tone clipped and professional.

Giles had less patience now, his earlier calm shattered by the unexpected intrusion. "Cordelia!" he snapped, his voice sharper than usual.

Cordelia turned to face him, clearly annoyed. "What? Why does everyone always yell my name? I'm not deaf! And I can take a hint!" She paused, her confusion evident. "What's the hint?"

"That you should come back later," Giles retorted testily, his frustration palpable.

"Yeah, when you've visited decaf land," Cordelia shot back, her tone biting as she pivoted on her heel and exited the library in the same dramatic fashion she had entered.

Giles sighed heavily as he watched her go, rubbing his temples briefly to ward off the headache that threatened to form. He turned back to Detective Winslow and the police officers, his demeanor now more composed but his mind racing with apprehension. "Where do you want me to go?" he asked, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of resignation.

Sunnydale Police Department

Where they wanted him to go was, perhaps inevitably, the morgue. Giles followed Detective Winslow through the sterile corridors until they reached a cold room lined with metal drawers. They stood on either side of one of the slots as the attendant pulled the tray out with a clinical efficiency.

"You have your breakfast?" the attendant asked casually, his tone devoid of any hint of morbidity.

"Er, no," Giles answered distractedly, his focus entirely on the tray before him rather than engaging in morgue humor.

"That's probably just as well," the attendant remarked as he pulled back the sheets to reveal Philip's body.

Giles felt a pang of sorrow and surprise at the sight of Philip lying there, lifeless and still. "Do you know him?" Detective Winslow asked, her voice gentle yet probing.

"Yes," Giles confirmed quietly, his eyes lingering on Philip's face, trying to reconcile the reality before him with the memories of their past friendship. "I mean, I did. His name's Philip Henry. He was a friend in London. I haven't seen him in over twenty years."

Detective Winslow studied Giles's expression carefully, assessing his reaction. "Can you think of any reason why he might've wanted to contact you?" she inquired, her voice steady.

"No," Giles replied honestly, his mind racing with questions and regrets. But then his gaze drifted down to the tattoo on Philip's arm, the distinctive Mark of Eyghon etched into his skin. Memories flooded back—of a dark chapter in their youth, of occult rituals and dangerous pursuits they had once shared.

"Do you know what this is?" Winslow pressed; her tone measured.

Giles met her gaze, his expression troubled. "No. No, I don't," he admitted quietly, the weight of uncertainty settling heavily on his shoulders. The Mark of Eyghon was a haunting reminder of a past they had tried to bury—a past that now threatened to resurface with deadly consequences.

Sunnydale General Hospital

Buffy stood concealed in the shadows outside the hospital, her senses on high alert despite her casual demeanor. "Don't be late," she muttered under her breath, irritation seeping into her tone. "Sheesh."

Her gaze sharpened as she spotted the medical transport approaching, relief washing over her briefly. If anything went wrong now, she knew she'd have to handle it alone. But then, two men in scrubs exited the hospital building, catching her attention.

The delivery driver greeted them cheerily as he lifted the box of blood bags out of the back of the transport. "Hey, fellas," he called out with a casual wave.

Buffy began to relax, a small smile tugging at her lips. "All's well that ends with cute ER doctors, I always say." But then a troubling thought crossed her mind. "Since when do doctors take deliveries?"

The delivery man seemed unfazed by the question, driving off without another word, leaving the box with the two supposed doctors. Just as Buffy pondered this oddity, a car in the hospital parking lot ignited its headlights and rolled toward the doctors' location. The driver, a vampire like the doctors themselves, emerged from the vehicle.

With a predatory grace, one of the vampire doctors reached for a blood bag and tore it open with his teeth. "Hey!" the driver snapped; his tone sharp with reproach. "No sampling the product."

The vampire doctor shot him a defiant look but relented, replacing the bag reluctantly. It was clear they were not just doctors—they were part of a scheme to pilfer the hospital's blood supply for their own kind.

Sensing the urgency of the situation, Buffy knew it was time to act. Without hesitation, she shed her human form, her figure rippling and transforming into Nyxara, her demonic alter ego. Her stature grew slightly taller, her once fair skin now a deep shade of red adorned with intricate tribal markings that seemed to pulse with ancient power.

"Hello, boys," Nyxara's voice echoed with a chilling edge as she stepped boldly into the pool of light that spilled from the hospital's entrance. The vampires, momentarily frozen by the sight of the formidable upper-level demon, quickly regained their predatory instincts.

Without hesitation, Nyxara charged at the three vampires. Her movements were a blur of speed and precision as she delivered swift kicks that sent each of them crashing to the ground. But her efforts were met with resilient adversaries; by the time she incapacitated the first vampire, he was already scrambling to his feet. With a snarl of frustration, he lunged forward, intent on overpowering her, but froze in his tracks when he saw an ominous energy ball forming in Nyxara's hand.

Just as the confrontation seemed poised to escalate further, a fourth figure burst onto the scene with a determined rush. Nyxara pivoted to face the newcomer, expecting yet another adversary. To her surprise and relief, it was Angel.

"Angel!" Nyxara exclaimed, momentarily dropping her guard at the sight of him.

Angel skidded to a stop, his eyes widening in astonishment as he took in Nyxara's demonic form. "Buffy?" he uttered, his voice a mixture of disbelief and concern.

"Yes," Nyxara affirmed, her gaze steady as she met his gaze.

"Buffy, look out!" Angel's warning came just in time as he swiftly dove past her, intercepting the vampire driver who had attempted to sneak away in the chaos.

Seizing the opportunity, Nyxara unleashed her energy ball with precision, striking one of the vampire doctors and sending him crashing to the ground in a cloud of dust. She wasted no time, swiftly dispatching the remaining adversaries with a series of decisive blows.

The driver, realizing he was outnumbered and outmatched, made a desperate retreat. Pushing Angel aside, he scrambled back into his car and sped off into the night. Angel made a futile attempt to give chase, his footsteps echoing briefly before he halted, watching the car disappear into the distance.

Even a vampire's speed couldn't compete with a speeding vehicle. With a frustrated sigh, Angel turned back to Nyxara, his expression reflecting a mix of relief and lingering concern. "Can you do that shimmering thing?" he asked Nyxara, his voice low with concern.

"Now that he's on the road, it would reveal what I am. The Source might be able to find me then," Nyxara replied, her form rippling and shifting back into Buffy's familiar figure. She glanced at Angel, her brow furrowing with curiosity. "How did you know about this?" Buffy asked, her tone laced with intrigue.

Angel shrugged nonchalantly. "It's delivery day, everyone knows," he remarked casually, though the underlying tension in his voice betrayed the seriousness of the situation. He paused beside the abandoned box of blood bags; his gaze thoughtful. "They only ruined one."

Buffy couldn't help but feel a twinge of suspicion, despite her trust in Angel's commitment to his soul. "Do you think you could make sure the hospital gets the rest?" she asked cautiously, her concern palpable.

Angel met her gaze, hurt flickering briefly across his features before he nodded solemnly. "Of course," he replied quietly, his commitment evident.

"Thanks. I need to check on Giles, he was supposed to meet me here," Buffy said, her thoughts already racing ahead to her next concern.

"Maybe he's just running late," Angel suggested gently, trying to offer reassurance.

"Giles?" Buffy queried, a hint of amusement touching her voice. "He considers tardiness the eighth deadly sin."

Angel nodded in understanding. "You're right. Go. And Buffy, even in your demonic form, you still look beautiful," he added softly, a genuine warmth in his eyes.

"Really?" Buffy's surprise was evident, her expression softening with a mixture of affection and gratitude toward Angel.

"Yes, really," Angel affirmed quietly, his gaze steady as he lifted the box of blood bags with a reassuring gesture.

Buffy shifted uncomfortably, her eyes momentarily dropping to her feet before she met Angel's understanding gaze. "Angel," she began tentatively, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "I've been worried that Giles, Willow, and Xander will find out that I'm not fully human, that I'm part-demon."

Angel set the box down gently, his expression serious yet compassionate. He knew all too well the weight of secrets and the fear of rejection that accompanied them. "Buffy," he said softly, stepping closer to her, "they care about you. They've been through so much with you. They'll understand."

Buffy nodded slowly; her doubts momentarily assuaged by Angel's reassurance. "I hope so," she murmured, her voice wavering slightly. "It's just... I don't want things to change between us."

"They won't," Angel assured her, his voice steady and reassuring. "We'll figure it out together, like we always do."

Buffy managed a small smile, grateful for his unwavering support. "Thanks, Angel," she said sincerely, her eyes reflecting both gratitude and relief. "I needed to hear that."

Angel reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Anytime," he murmured, his thumb tracing a comforting line along her cheek.

Giles Apartment

Buffy approached Giles' apartment with a knot of apprehension twisting in her stomach, unsure of what she might find. When he opened the door, her concern deepened at the sight of him—disheveled, with a weary expression that belied more than just fatigue. She caught a faint whiff of alcohol on his breath, a detail that only added to her unease.

"Giles," Buffy greeted him cautiously, her voice tinged with worry. "It's late. Are you all right?"

Giles blinked at her; his confusion evident. "Buffy... Yes, I'm fine, fine," he replied quickly, his words slightly slurred. "Look, I'm rather busy at the moment, so I'll see you on Monday at school." He moved to close the door, but Buffy's hand shot out to stop him.

"Giles, did you forget?" Buffy pressed, her concern deepening as she saw his lack of recognition. When he still didn't react, she continued urgently, "Hospital, vampires, handy carry-out packets of blood?"

Recognition sparked in Giles' eyes suddenly, surprising Buffy with its clarity. "Oh!" he exclaimed, his expression shifting to a mix of realization and apology. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

"No, Giles. Physically, I'm fine," Buffy assured him, her tone turning slightly frustrated. "But emotionally, I'm a little bruised. What's going on with you?"

Attempting to regain control of the situation, Giles straightened his posture and attempted to sound composed. "Nothing's wrong, Buffy. I'm just in the middle of something extremely important," he stated firmly, though his eyes darted nervously. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to say goodnight now."

Before Buffy could respond, Giles shut the door abruptly, leaving her standing there in stunned disbelief. She stared at the closed door for a moment, trying to process what had just transpired.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Once Buffy had left, Giles returned to the task at hand, his mind fraught with urgency. He dialed the next number on his list, his fingers tapping anxiously on the phone as he waited for a response. When a tired voice answered on the other end, Giles spoke quickly, his tone urgent yet polite.

"I'm sorry to disturb you; I know it's five in the morning over there," Giles began, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. "I'm trying to reach Deirdre Page. My name's Rupert Giles, she knows me. It's very important."

He listened intently, his expression turning grave as he absorbed the news. "I'm terribly sorry, I had no idea. When did she pass away?" The confirmation hit him hard, his worst fears realized in an instant. "That recently? Yes, we were friends when we were young. My condolences."

Replacing the receiver with a heavy sigh, Giles stared at the list before him. Three names now had lines drawn through them: Thomas Sutcliffe, Philip Henry, and Deirdre Page. Only two names remained: Ethan Rayne and Rupert Giles himself.

Running a hand through his hair, Giles rolled up his sleeve, his eyes fixing on the Mark of Eyghon tattooed on his forearm. "So. You're back," he murmured grimly, the weight of past choices and their consequences pressing heavily upon him.

Streets of Sunnydale

As Buffy walked home, her mind consumed with worry over Giles, her reverie was abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of her younger brother, Cole, shimmering into view beside her. She stopped in her tracks, her surprise evident as she turned to face him.

"Cole," Buffy greeted him cautiously, studying his expression for any sign of why he had appeared. "Did the Source or the Triad send you? Or are you just here to visit?"

Cole's features tightened with concern as he met Buffy's gaze. "I wish I was here to visit," he replied somberly, his voice tinged with urgency. "The Triad sent me to warn you. There is a possessor demon by the name of Eyghon on its way to Sunnydale."

Buffy's heart sank at the mention of Eyghon. She knew all too well the danger that such a demon posed, its ability to possess and corrupt those it encountered. "Eyghon," she murmured, her mind racing with memories of past encounters and the havoc the demon had wreaked. "How much time do we have?"

Cole shook his head gravely, his expression etched with concern. "Not much time. The Triad believes Eyghon is already en route. It's targeting a specific set of magic users," he explained urgently, his voice low but intense. "The Triad suspects it's seeking revenge on them. Normally, the Triad wouldn't intervene for mortal concerns, but they fear what Eyghon's rebirth could mean if it takes a human host instead of possessing the dead. They don't want it to gain that kind of power."

Buffy listened attentively, her mind racing to grasp the implications. Eyghon was a formidable adversary, known for its ability to possess and corrupt. The idea of it becoming even stronger, merging with a living human, sent a chill down her spine. Who knew the havoc it could unleash if it achieved its goal?

"So, the Triad sent you to warn me because they see Eyghon as a threat even to them," Buffy summarized, her voice tight with determination.

November 14, 1997 – Saturday

Sunnydale Police Department

The next morning found the morgue attendant diligently conducting his routine rounds. Normally, his duties were uneventful, and initially, this morning seemed no different. Yet, as he approached the drawer marked for Philip Henry, a sense of unease crept over him. The drawer should have held the body of the deceased man, but to his astonishment, it was empty.

Confusion etched across his face, the attendant turned, only to be startled by a sudden movement behind him. Before he could react, a sheet was thrown over his head, enveloping him in darkness and surprise. If he could have seen his assailant, he would have been utterly bewildered—it was Philip Henry himself, the very person whose absence he was discovering.

Philip wasted no time. With practiced efficiency, he bundled the morgue attendant into the now vacant drawer, closing and locking it securely. The attendant's muffled protests were stifled by the sheet over his head as Philip made his escape from the morgue, his movements unsteady and desperate.

Sunnydale High

"This is all wrong," Cordelia complained, trailing behind Willow, Xander, and Jenny as they walked down the otherwise deserted hallway. "School on a Saturday. It really throws off my internal clock."

"Yeah, when are we going to use computers for real life anyway?" Xander chimed in, clearly sharing her sentiment.

Jenny Calendar, ever the patient teacher, offered a playful smirk. "Hmm, let's see—home, school, work, games."

Xander was not so easily swayed. "You know, computers are on the way out. I think paper's going to make a big comeback."

"And the abacus," Willow added sarcastically, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"Yeah, you don't see enough abaci," Xander agreed, with a grin.

As they entered the classroom, they took their usual seats, the familiar setting of computers and desks both comforting and frustrating. Jenny moved to the front of the room, ready to start the session. "Right," she began, her authoritative tone indicating the beginning of a lesson, "the first thing I want you to do is—"

She stopped abruptly, her gaze fixed on the door as another, unexpected, arrival made her entrance. "Buffy!"

Buffy's sudden appearance caught everyone off guard. Xander, who had been absently staring at his computer screen, snapped his head up in confusion. "Huh? Did I fall asleep already?"

"Aww, you missed your friends!" Willow decided, her tone light but her eyes searching Buffy's face for clues.

Xander liked that idea as well. "Hey, Buffy, come and sit next to me. You can demilitarize the zone between me and Cordelia."

"Yeah and delouse you at the same time," Cordelia bit back, crossing her arms with a huff.

But Buffy hadn't looked at any of them. Instead, her attention was focused solely on Jenny. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a second."

Jenny sensed her concern and instantly shared it. "Something wrong?"

"Is there some crisis that requires instant action?" Xander enquired hopefully, his eyes lighting up with the possibility of adventure. "Very far from here?"

Again, it was only Jenny that Buffy responded to. "It's Giles."

The weight of those two words hung in the air, and Jenny's expression immediately shifted to one of worry. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know," Buffy admitted, her voice heavy with unease. "He didn't show up last night, and when I went to his apartment, he was acting very… anti-Giles. He wouldn't let me in, and he looked really bad. I think he might've been…" Buffy paused, as though she couldn't quite believe it herself. "I think he was drinking."

Jenny's shock was palpable. "He was home alone drinking?"

"But tea, right?" Willow checked; her brow furrowed with worry.

Sometimes Willow's refusal to grasp the point could be wearing. "It wasn't tea, Willow," Buffy told her as gently as possible.

"Yep, yep, I knew this would happen," Xander said triumphantly, seizing the moment to spin a tale. "No one can be wound as straight and narrow as Giles without a dark side erupting. My Uncle Rory was the stodgiest taxidermist you've ever met by day. By night, it was booze, whores, and fur flying. Were there whores?"

Buffy was in even less of a mood for Xander's humor than for Willow's innocence. "He was alone," she said firmly, cutting off his speculations.

Again, Xander refused to drop it. "Give it time," he insisted, leaning back with a knowing look.

Buffy gave up and looked around the group, seeking some semblance of understanding or support. "So, none of you guys have noticed anything different lately?" she asked, her eyes scanning their faces.

"No," Willow insisted, shaking her head.

"Not really," Jenny echoed, her tone matching the unease in Buffy's eyes.

"You haven't seen anything weird?" Buffy persisted, a note of desperation creeping into her voice.

"Nope," Xander answered, his usual nonchalance suddenly grating.

"No, he seemed perfectly normal yesterday when I saw him talking to the police," Cordelia chimed in, her casual tone clashing with the tension in the room.

Everyone stared at her, jaws dropping in unison. "And you wait until now to tell us this because…?" Buffy asked, barely restraining her exasperation.

"I didn't think it was important," Cordelia protested, flipping her hair with an air of innocence.

"We understand," Xander sighed dramatically, "It wasn't about you."

Buffy shot him a warning look before turning back to Cordelia. "What were they talking to him about?" Jenny asked, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Oh, don't tell me, I know this." Cordelia thought hard, her face scrunching up in concentration. "Something about a homicide."

"That does it," Buffy decided, her voice firm with resolve. "I'm going to call him." She couldn't shake the feeling that Giles might be one of the magic users that Cole had said Eyghon was likely targeting.

Buffy swiftly exited Jenny's classroom, her movements purposeful and her mind focused. As she crossed the hall, the familiar school environment seemed to blur around her, her thoughts solely on Giles and the looming threat of Eyghon. She pushed open the heavy doors of the library and stepped inside, the quiet, book-lined room providing a brief moment of calm.

With a quick glance to ensure she was alone, Buffy moved to the center of the library. Her eyes closed briefly, concentrating on the sensation of her demonic powers stirring within her. In a moment, her form shimmered and shifted, her human appearance dissolving into a cascade of light. When the light faded, she was gone.

Underworld

Buffy shimmered into the Underworld, the eerie, dimly lit realm filled with shadows and the distant echoes of ancient power. She quickly located Cole in his personal space, a secluded area he often retreated to for solitude and reflection.

"Cole," she said, her voice breaking the silence as she approached her younger brother.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing here?" Cole asked, his eyes scanning the area anxiously to ensure no one had seen her shimmer in.

"Eyghon, I think I know who it's after. Because of the Slayer half of me, I have what is called a Watcher, a mortal who is supposed to guide and train the Slayer. Giles and I were supposed to ensure a blood shipment arrived at the hospital safe and sound last night. But Giles never showed. When I went to his apartment, he was acting weird, and I think he had been drinking."

Cole's expression turned serious; his concern evident. "Drinking? What else did you notice?"

Buffy took a deep breath, her worry evident in her eyes. "He looked disheveled, like he hadn't slept. He was evasive, wouldn't let me in, and kept insisting he was fine. But it was clear something was wrong. Then Cordelia mentioned seeing him talking to the police about a homicide on campus. I think it might be connected to Eyghon."

Cole's eyes widened slightly. "A homicide? And you think it's Eyghon's doing?"

Buffy nodded, her expression grave. "I think Eyghon is targeting Giles."

Cole rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his mind racing. "The Triad did mention Eyghon was seeking revenge. If it's true, then your Watcher is in serious danger."

"I need to find out more about what's happening," Buffy said determinedly. "I need to help him. I can't just sit by and do nothing. I have to save Giles."

Cole nodded, understanding her determination and sharing her urgency. "Then let me help you. We'll find a way to protect your Watcher and stop Eyghon. You're not alone in this, Elizabeth."

Buffy felt a surge of gratitude towards her brother, her eyes softening. "Thank you, Cole. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Cole's expression turned serious, protective. "Go back to where you were, Elizabeth. We don't want you raising any mortal suspicion if they should go looking for you. I will go to your Watcher's home and see if I can find any clues or help him directly."

Buffy nodded, her resolve unwavering. "Be careful, Cole. Eyghon is incredibly dangerous."

Cole gave her a reassuring smile. "I will. Now go, before anyone notices you're gone."

Buffy shimmered out, returning to the library where she had left her friends, while Cole prepared himself for whatever he might find at Giles's home.

Giles Apartment

As Cole approached the door, he steeled himself for whatever awaited inside, knowing that the battle against Eyghon had only just begun. He knocked and heard the sound of rustling inside. Moments later, the door creaked open, revealing a weary and disheveled Giles.

"Yes?" Giles said, his voice tinged with curiosity and suspicion.

"You don't know me, but my name is Cole Turner. I am an assistant district attorney in San Francisco," Cole said, smoothly delivering the cover story he used for the Charmed Ones. "I am Eliz… Buffy's brother. Her biological brother. She was 'adopted' but we keep in contact. Anyway, I got a call from her about you. She's worried about you."

"You can tell her that I can take care of this myself," Giles said, his tone firm despite the weariness in his eyes.

Cole stepped forward, pushing Giles gently but firmly back into the apartment. He then closed the door behind him, ensuring their privacy. "Mr. Giles," he said as his form began to ripple and shift, the human facade melting away to reveal the towering, formidable figure of Belthazor. His skin turned a deep, intimidating red, and intricate tribal markings appeared on his face, his eyes burning with an otherworldly intensity.

Giles stumbled back, his eyes widening in shock as he beheld the upper-level demon standing before him. "You're a demon," he managed to say, his voice a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Yes," Belthazor replied, his voice a deep, resonant growl. "As is Nyxara."

"Nyxara?" Giles repeated, confusion and disbelief evident in his tone.

"Buffy," Belthazor clarified, his expression softening slightly at the mention of his sister. "She's half-Slayer, half-demon. She got her Slayer half from our father and her demon half from our mother."

Giles looked at Belthazor in stunned silence, trying to process the revelation. "Buffy… half-demon?" he finally whispered; the words almost too difficult to believe.

Belthazor nodded, his gaze intense. "Yes. She's been keeping it hidden, even from you, for her own protection. If the Source found out that my older sister now straddled the fence between good and evil, he would have her eliminated. The Source sees any potential threat as something to be eradicated without mercy."

Giles's eyes widened, understanding dawning on his face. "But… Buffy? Why keep this from us? From me?"

Belthazor's expression softened as he explained further, his voice low and serious. "I cast a spell on Joyce Summers so that she would believe my sister is her daughter. It was the only way to protect her. The Source must never know. This secret safeguards her life, and by extension, all of you who fight alongside her. You must tell no one about this, Mr. Giles."

Giles felt the weight of the revelation settle heavily on his shoulders. The idea of Buffy, the strong, brave Slayer he had come to care for deeply, carrying such a burden alone was almost unbearable. He ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts racing.

"I understand," he said finally, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "But this means… all this time, she's been living with this duality, this secret. It must have been incredibly difficult for her."

Belthazor nodded, his eyes reflecting a mixture of pain and admiration for his sister. "It has been. She's had to navigate the complexities of both worlds, maintaining her humanity while harnessing her demonic powers. It's a delicate balance, and she's done it with remarkable strength."

Giles leaned back, absorbing the full extent of what Belthazor had told him. "I'll do everything I can to protect her. She's not just my Slayer; she's family."

Belthazor's expression softened even more as he regarded Giles with a mixture of seriousness and gratitude. "Thank you, Giles. Buffy needs allies she can trust, people who can understand the weight she carries. Knowing you're on her side means a lot."

Giles nodded in acknowledgment, his mind still reeling from the revelations but his determination unwavering. "Of course, Belthazor. Buffy's safety and well-being are paramount to me."

Belthazor's gaze sharpened as he leaned in slightly, the gravity of the situation pressing upon them. "Now, Giles. I need to know your connection to Eyghon."

Giles sighed heavily, the weight of his past bearing down on him like a suffocating cloak. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he gathered his thoughts. "Eyghon… he's a part of my past, a dark chapter I had hoped was long closed. I was studying history at Oxford and, of course, dabbling in the occult by night. I hated it all—the mundane grind of school, the suffocating pressure of my supposed destiny. So, I dropped out. I left for London and fell in with the worst crowd that would have me. We practiced magic, small-time stuff at first, for pleasure or gain. But then Ethan and I stumbled upon something bigger."

"Eyghon," Belthazor interjected as his form shifted back into Cole.

"Yes," Giles continued, his voice tinged with regret and bitterness. "We devised a ritual where one of us would enter a deep sleep while the others summoned Eyghon. It was… an extraordinary experience, a rush unlike anything else. God, we were fools."

"You couldn't control it," Cole remarked, his expression somber.

Giles nodded; his gaze distant with painful memories. "One of us, Randall, he lost control. Eyghon seized him completely. We tried to exorcise the demon from Randall, but it was too late. The ritual killed him. We killed him. We thought we were rid of Eyghon after that tragedy. But now, it seems he's returned, seeking vengeance. One by one, he'll pick us off."

"How many are left from your group?" Cole asked quietly.

Giles hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I think it's just me and Ethan now. Deidre and Philip… they're dead." He lifted his sleeve to reveal the sinister tattoo on his arm, the Mark of Eyghon, a stark reminder of the demon's lingering presence. "Eyghon can track us with this."

Cole's brow furrowed with concern as he absorbed Giles's confession. "We need to find a way to protect you. Eyghon won't stop until he's taken his revenge on all of you."

Giles, puzzled by Cole's concern, couldn't help but ask, "Why are you wanting to protect me? I mean, you are a demon."

"Firstly," Cole began, his voice tinged with urgency, "the Triad doesn't want Eyghon to be reborn from a human host. It would mean untold chaos and destruction. Secondly, it's because of Elizabeth. She cares deeply for you. She's torn between two worlds, trying to balance her human side with her demon side. You're one of the few mortals she trusts completely. And if you're in danger, she'll move mountains to protect you."

Giles glanced down at the Mark of Eyghon on his arm, a stark reminder of the looming threat. "Thank you, Cole. I didn't expect this… help, especially from a demon."

Sunnydale High

Buffy shimmered back into the library; her senses heightened by an instinctive alertness that often-accompanied danger. A flicker of movement on the upper level caught her eye—a shadow moving where it shouldn't be.

Moving swiftly and silently, Buffy ascended the stairs, her Slayer instincts guiding her steps. She maneuvered through the maze of bookshelves, her gaze darting between the rows, scanning for any sign of intruders. A fleeting glimpse confirmed her suspicions: Ethan Rayne, lurking just beyond a bookcase.

Before Buffy could react, Ethan shoved the heavy bookcase towards her. With a dancer's grace, she evaded the toppling obstacle, rolling to her feet in one fluid motion. Agile and swift, she closed the distance between them in seconds, seizing Ethan's arm and twisting it sharply behind his back.

Ethan winced but maintained a composed facade as Buffy forced him to turn and face her. Recognition dawned on her, mingled with the lingering resentment from their last encounter. "I know you! You run that costume shop."

"I'm pleased you remember me," Ethan replied, his voice tinged with amusement despite the predicament.

"You sold me that Halloween dress," Buffy continued, her grip tightening on his arm. "And I would have nearly been killed with my friends if not for my brother's mission because of you."

Ethan's expression remained unrepentant. "But you looked great," he quipped, earning himself a punch from Buffy's free hand. He sighed dramatically. "I take it we're even?"

"I'll let you know when we're even," Buffy retorted, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What are you doing here?"

"Snooping about," Ethan repeated with a sly grin, trying to wriggle out of Buffy's grasp. His gaze flicked nervously around the library, as if assessing escape routes.

Buffy's skepticism deepened at Ethan's nonchalant demeanor. She released his arm but kept a wary eye on him, considering her options. "Honesty. Nice touch."

Ethan chuckled, a wry smile playing on his lips. " It's one of my virtues," he quipped, his tone casual yet tinged with underlying tension. "Not really. "

Buffy's patience wore thin. "I've got a great idea: Why don't I just call the police and have you arrested for breaking and entering, then I can get back to my fun Saturday?"

"Ah, the police," Ethan mused, folding his arms. "Well, they'll have a lot of questions and they'll really need Rupert to answer them all."

Buffy's eyebrow arched in surprise. "You know Giles?"

Ethan's smile widened knowingly. "Oh, we go back. Way back. You don't happen to know where he is, would you?"

Giles Apartment

Giles' weary mind struggled to shake off the remnants of his unsettling dream. Ritualistic scenes and haunting tattoos faded as reality intruded with the persistent ringing of his phone. Blinking groggily, he reached out and answered it with a hoarse, "Hello."

"Giles, it's me," Buffy's voice came through the line, clear and urgent.

"Buffy," Giles replied, his gaze flicking over to where Cole stood by the window, observing the street below. "Your brother is here."

"Good," Buffy replied, her relief evident in her tone that Cole was with him.

Giles hesitated, his brow furrowing as he processed his question. "Why didn't you tell me you were half-human, half-demon?"

Buffy's sigh carried the weight of time spent guarding her secret, a burden she bore for the safety of those she cared about most. "To protect you and Willow and Xander, Giles," she explained, her voice tinged with regret. "No one besides me and Cole was supposed to know that I was hiding among mortals."

"I understand," Giles finally said, his voice softened with empathy, the timbre of his words carrying the weight of years spent in battles both physical and emotional. "You've carried this burden alone for so long." He cast a fleeting glance over at Cole, who stood by the window, his silhouette etched against the backdrop of the city lights, his vigilance a silent sentinel against the encroaching darkness. "And Cole has been a part of this secret as well."

A swell of gratitude rose with Buffy for Giles's understanding, mingled with a tinge of relief at finally sharing the weight of her truth. "He's my brother. Not the brotherhood kind, but my actual brother," she confessed softly. "My real name is Elizabeth Anne Turner. I was born in 1880, not 1980."

"I know," Giles affirmed gently, his eyes reflecting both concern and a depth of understanding that comes from years of delving into the arcane and the unknown. "Cole told me."

"We can talk about this later. I have Ethan Rayne here with me," Buffy said urgently.

"He's there with you now?" Giles's voice sharpened with immediate concern. "Buffy, listen to me. You're in danger as long as you're with Ethan. I need you to put down the phone and get out of the library as soon as possible."

Unfortunately, Buffy had never been one to obey orders blindly, her resolve firm even in the face of imminent danger. "Put Cole on the phone, because I am not going anywhere."

Then, the unmistakable sound of breaking glass shattered the tense silence. "Buffy?" Giles's voice rang out, edged with worry, but she had already put the phone down. Frustration creased his brow as he fumbled to replace the receiver in its cradle, his movements hurried and agitated. Turning to Cole, he spoke urgently, his words laden with the weight of an impending threat. "Buffy is in danger. I believe Eyghon is at the school. He's after Ethan, and he'll go through your sister to get to him."

Sunnydale High School

The noise had come from the library office: the unmistakable sound of someone breaking in through the window, the sharp crack of glass echoing through the silent building. Buffy vaulted over the library counter with the agility of a seasoned warrior, her senses heightened and muscles coiled for action. Ethan, slower and more cautious, took the longer route around, his eyes darting nervously. The commotion drew Xander, Cordelia, Willow, and Jenny, who rushed in, their expressions a mix of curiosity and alarm.

Philip came staggering out of the office, his movements erratic and eyes wild with a primal intensity. Buffy immediately blocked his path, her stance defensive and unwavering, but his gaze was fixed beyond her. "Ethan!" he snarled, his voice a guttural growl of hatred and desperation.

That was all it took to send Ethan sprinting for the door, panic propelling him forward. "Don't let him get away!" Buffy commanded, her voice sharp and authoritative. Xander lunged and managed to grab hold of Ethan, but Ethan, driven by fear and adrenaline, twisted and wriggled free. As he bolted past Cordelia, she reacted with uncharacteristic quickness, delivering a swift kick to his groin. Ethan crumpled to the floor, a whimpering heap, pain overwhelming his senses.

Philip, undeterred by the chaos, swung wild punches at Buffy. She dodged with practiced ease, her movements fluid and precise. As she backed towards the library cage, a plan formed in her mind. Philip, consumed by rage, charged at her with reckless abandon. At the last moment, Buffy leapt aside, her agility saving her from his onslaught. Philip's momentum carried him through the open cage door, and with a swift, decisive motion, Buffy slammed it shut and locked it, trapping him inside.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Once Ethan was vaguely sensible again, he was seated in a chair with Buffy standing close by, her eyes never leaving him. Philip prowled restlessly inside the confines of the cage, his movements erratic and unsettling. Willow, standing a safe distance away, scrutinized him with a mix of fascination and horror. "I'm not getting close enough to check for a pulse, but he looks dead," she observed, her voice tinged with disbelief.

"Except for the walking and attacking Buffy part," Xander interjected, his tone sardonic yet edged with concern.

"Oh no, he's dead," Ethan confirmed, a grim resignation in his voice. He glanced apologetically towards the cage. "Sorry, Philip. I really am."

At that moment, Giles, followed closely by Cole, came rushing into the room, their faces etched with worry. "Is everyone all right?" Giles asked, his voice urgent, eyes scanning the scene for any signs of injury.

"Super! I kicked a guy," Cordelia supplied, a mix of pride and incredulity in her voice.

"We're okay," Jenny assured him, her calm demeanor helping to steady the group's nerves.

"Dead guy here interrupted our tutorial," Xander explained, gesturing towards Philip, who was now glaring from inside the cage. He leaned in closer, a wry smile on his face. "I've been meaning to thank you for that, by the way."

Philip responded with a furious clatter against the cage, snarling in a manner that was both feral and human. Xander quickly backed off, hands raised in mock surrender, his bravado slipping momentarily in the face of Philip's unnerving behavior.

Giles stared at the animated corpse of his old friend in horror, his face paling as the reality sank in. "It can't be," he whispered, his voice trembling with disbelief and sorrow.

"Oh yes, it can," Ethan replied with a smirk, his tone dripping with insidious delight. "Hello, Ripper."

Giles's eyes flared with fury as he turned to face Ethan. "I told you to leave town," he spat, his voice laced with barely controlled rage.

"You did, and I didn't," Ethan said nonchalantly. "Shop lease is paid till the end of the month."

"Why did he call him Ripper?" Cordelia wondered aloud, her curiosity piqued. She then turned her attention to Cole, scrutinizing him with an inquisitive gaze. "And who is he?"

"He's my younger brother, Cordelia," Buffy hissed, her patience wearing thin with the cheerleader's incessant questions.

Cole's concern for his sister was evident as he stepped closer to her, his eyes scanning her for any sign of injury. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with worry.

Despite the tension, Buffy couldn't help but tease him. "Despite the fact I'm the one that should be overprotective since I'm five years older than you," she said, a playful glint in her eye. "You still worry about your big sister."

Cole gave a small, relieved smile, though his concern didn't fully dissipate. "Always will, Elizabeth. Always will."

Giles grabbed Ethan by the hair and dragged him to his feet, his grip unyielding. "You should have left when I told you," he growled, his voice a dangerous mix of anger and desperation.

"Giles!" Buffy protested, her voice sharp with concern, but Giles was in no mood to be chastised or deterred.

"You are putting these people in danger," Giles continued, his eyes blazing with intensity. "People I care about."

Ethan managed to pull free from Giles' grip, straightening his disheveled clothes with a sneer. "If you care so much about them, why didn't you leave town? You've been having the dreams. I know. I have. We both know what's coming."

"What dreams?" Buffy demanded, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Giles and Ethan, the urgency in her voice cutting through the tension.

"Giles told me that their connection to Eyghon extended into their subconsciousness. They even dream of Eyghon," Cole explained to his sister, his voice steady but filled with an underlying worry.

At that moment, Philip burst out of the cage with a feral roar. The cage door swung open violently, hitting Jenny squarely and sending her flying across the room. "Jenny!" Giles shouted, his heart lurching as he rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he checked for injuries.

Buffy reacted instantly; her instincts honed from countless battles. She delivered a powerful kick to Philip, sending him sprawling. But there was no lengthy fight this time. Philip began convulsing, his body seizing uncontrollably before collapsing to the ground. Just like Deirdre earlier, his form started to break down, melting into a viscous, foul-smelling goo.

"That's something you don't see every day," Willow commented, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and revulsion as she stared at the puddle of goo that had once been Philip.

"I'm going to be in therapy until I'm thirty," Cordelia complained, crossing her arms and huffing in exasperation.

Buffy suddenly realized the space next to her was empty. "Where's Ethan? Where did he go?" she asked urgently, her eyes scanning the room for any sign of the slippery magician.

Everyone had been so focused on the aftermath of the battle that they didn't notice the goo spreading until it touched Jenny's hand. She convulsed once, a sharp, involuntary jerk, then her eyes fluttered open. "Are you all right, Jenny?" Giles asked gently, his voice soft with concern.

"Ow!" Jenny moaned, clutching her head as if trying to hold it together.

"Careful. Can you stand?" Giles asked, his hands hovering protectively around her.

"I think so," Jenny said, her voice shaky but determined.

"This is what happens when you have school on Saturday," Cordelia sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.

Giles helped Jenny to her feet, his grip firm yet tender. "Lean on me," he insisted, his voice filled with a reassuring calm. "It'll be all right."

"Promise?" Jenny asked, her voice small and vulnerable, a stark contrast to her usual composed demeanor.

"I promise," Giles said, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

"I believe you," Jenny murmured as she buried her head in his chest, seeking solace in his embrace. Unseen by anyone, least of all Giles, her eyes briefly glowed with a strange, unsettling light before returning to normal.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Jenny leaned on the table at the center of the library, holding a washcloth to her head. Her face was pale, and the faint lines of pain etched around her eyes indicated just how much the encounter had taken out of her. "How's your head?" Giles asked, his voice full of concern as he watched her closely.

"Throbbing," Jenny replied, wincing slightly as she pressed the cool cloth against her temple. The discomfort was evident in her voice, each word coming out more strained than the last.

Buffy moved closer to Giles, her expression a blend of worry and determination. She knew they couldn't afford any more surprises tonight. "How is she?" she asked softly, her eyes never leaving Jenny.

Giles sighed, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "She's in pain but stable," he said, his voice a mix of relief and frustration. "We need to get her somewhere safe. Away from this... chaos."

"Take her back to your apartment," Cole suggested, his voice steady despite the underlying tension in the room. "Before you do, though, do you think Eyghon is dead?"

"I don't know," Giles admitted, a frown creasing his forehead. The uncertainty gnawed at him, but he knew they had to move quickly. "Could you?"

"Of course," Cole said without hesitation. His calm demeanor belied the urgency of the situation as he moved to support Jenny. She leaned on him, grateful for the assistance.

As they made their way to the door, Buffy watched them, her eyes filled with concern and unspoken questions. She trusted Cole, but the suddenness of the situation left her uneasy. She gave Giles a reassuring nod, a silent promise to handle things on this end.

Giles and Cole guided Jenny out of the library, moving quickly but carefully. Once they were out of sight of Willow, Xander, and Cordelia, Cole glanced around to ensure they were truly alone. He then took hold of Giles and Jenny firmly, his grip gentle but resolute.

With a subtle shimmer, the three of them vanished from the corridor, the air around them rippling momentarily before returning to stillness.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"We have work to do. Willow, I want you to find out anything and everything you can about Eyghon. We need to know if I just killed it or not," Buffy instructed, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

"I can try the net, but given its history with Giles, it sounds like a Giles and his books kind of deal," Willow replied, her fingers already itching to start her research.

"So, we hit the books," Buffy affirmed, following Willow as they headed for the bookshelves that lined the library walls. The room was a fortress of knowledge, and they would need every bit of it. "Xander, how do you feel about rifling through Giles' personal files?" she asked, a small smirk tugging at her lips despite the seriousness of the situation.

"I feel pretty good about it. Does that make me a sociopath?" Xander quipped, a grin spreading across his face as he rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

Buffy turned her attention to the shelves, pulling down dusty tomes and stacking them on the table. Cordelia moved next to her, a look of impatience and confusion on her face. "What?" Buffy asked, arching an eyebrow at the cheerleader's unusual proximity.

"What about me? I care about Giles," Cordelia said, her voice a mix of defensiveness and genuine concern.

"Work with Xander," Buffy replied, her focus already shifting back to the task at hand.

"Well, when I say 'care,' I mean—" Cordelia began, her typical self-importance creeping into her tone.

"Cordelia," Buffy interrupted, her voice firm but not unkind. They didn't have time for her usual dithering.

"Okay, okay," Cordelia conceded, rolling her eyes but moving towards Xander with a resigned sigh.

Giles Apartment

Giles looked around, momentarily disoriented by the sudden shift in location. The familiar surroundings of his apartment began to settle his nerves. He quickly regained his bearings and guided Jenny to the couch, helping her to sit down gently. "Rest here," he said softly, his voice filled with concern and tenderness. "You're safe now."

Jenny looked up at Cole, her eyes wide with confusion and curiosity. "What are you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"He's an upper-level demon," Giles responded, a note of resignation in his voice. "And Buffy's brother."

"I better get back to the school," Cole said, his tone matter-of-fact yet edged with urgency. "I want to make sure Eyghon is truly gone before I report back to the Triad." With that, he shimmered out, leaving Giles and Jenny in the sudden, heavy silence of the apartment.

Giles moved to the kitchen, shame and exhaustion weighing him down like lead weights on his ankles. While he was thankful for Cole's timely arrival and the revelation that his Slayer was half-human, half-demon, he still hated that he'd been unable to fix the deal with Eyghon on his own. The guilt of his youthful indiscretions resurfaced, magnified by the recent dangers to his friends and the near loss of Jenny.

Grabbing two glasses and filling them with ice, he moved back to the couch where Jenny was cradling her head, her pain evident. A new bottle of scotch was already waiting for them on the table. He didn't have the energy to reflect on his alcohol consumption on top of everything else; he just needed something to steady his nerves.

He handed Jenny the drink, watching as she sipped it and then winced. "It's strong," she said, her voice strained but appreciative. She took another sip, the warmth of the alcohol beginning to ease her pain. "It's helping."

"You need it, after…" Giles struggled to find the right words, his voice faltering with the weight of his guilt, "after what you've been through."

Jenny nodded silently, her beautiful dark eyes locking onto his, filled with understanding and an unspoken bond that had only grown stronger through their shared ordeal.

"Jenny, I'm so sorry," Giles said, his voice thick with emotion. "I never meant for you to get involved in any of this."

Jenny shrugged, a small, resigned smile playing on her lips. "So I got involved. That's what happens when two people… get involved." Her words were simple, but they carried a depth of meaning that struck Giles to his core.

Had it been her who leaned in closer, or Giles? The space between them seemed to shrink, and he found himself staring at her lips, desperately wanting something to focus on besides the nightmare his weekend had turned into. Her presence was a beacon of warmth in the cold storm of his mind. Miserably, he pulled himself away, the self-recrimination clear in his eyes.

"I'll have to get you home soon," Giles sighed, his gaze dropping to his lap. "It's not—I'm not a safe person to be around right now."

Jenny looked at him, her expression soft yet searching, as if trying to find the right words to reach him. "Nothing's safe in this world, Rupert. Don't you know that by now?" she asked gently, her voice carrying a wisdom that both comforted and challenged him.

Willow plowed through an unbelievable stack of Giles' books spread across the long table, her fingers flipping through the pages with determined speed. She suddenly hit one of the books rather hard, a triumphant look on her face. "Ah! Aha! It's not Egyptian, it's Etruscan, mistaken for Egyptian by the design pattern, but any fool can see it pre-dates their iconology…" she said excitedly just as Cole walked into the library, the door creaking softly behind him.

Willow quickly showed Buffy a drawing of the Mark of Eyghon. "Look at this: The Mark of Eyghon, worn by his initiates," she said before reading the page aloud. "'Eyghon, also called the Sleepwalker, can only exist in this reality by possessing an unconscious host. Temporary possession imbues the host with a euphoric feeling of power.'"

Cole, stopping beside his sister, peered over Willow's shoulder at the ancient text. "What about not temporary?" he asked, his tone serious and concerned.

Willow glanced up at him, her eyes wide with the gravity of what she was about to say. "Unless the proper rituals are observed, the possession is permanent, and Eyghon will be born from within the host," she said, her voice filled with the weight of the revelation.

Buffy and Cole exchanged worried looks, the implications of Willow's discovery hanging heavily in the air.

"I'm guessing, 'Eew,'" Cordelia said, breaking the tense silence with her trademark bluntness, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Hey, listen. 'Once called, Eyghon can also take possession of the dead, but its demonic energy soon disintegrates the host, and it must jump to the nearest dead or unconscious person to continue living,'" Willow read aloud, her voice tinged with worry.

Buffy's eyes widened with realization. "Wait a minute. The dead guy. He's all puddly now."

"So, the demon is gone. There was no one dead to jump into. I mean, we're all not dead, right?" Cordelia asked, a hint of nervous hope in her voice.

"No one dead…" Buffy muttered, her mind racing. She glanced at her brother, the wheels in her head turning rapidly.

"But someone unconscious," Cole said, picking up on his sister's thoughts instantly.

Buffy's eyes flashed with urgency. "I have to check on Giles and Jenny," she said, already moving toward the door. She cast a quick look back at the others. "Stay here and keep looking through the books. We need every bit of information we can get."

Without waiting for a response, Buffy hurried from the library. Once she was out of sight of Willow, Xander, and Cordelia, she shimmered out.

Giles' Apartment

"Maybe I should make us some tea," Giles suggested, his voice tinged with the need for a familiar ritual to anchor him amidst the chaos.

"Suit yourself," Jenny remarked, her eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement as she pulled her scotch back up to her lips with a smile. The warmth of the alcohol seemed to bring some color back to her cheeks.

Giles pushed himself off the couch, the weight of the recent events still pressing heavily on his shoulders. He forced himself into the kitchen, seeking solace in the simple, methodical process of making tea. He filled the kettle with water and turned on the stove, listening to the hum as it began to heat. When the water started to boil, he added a teabag, watching as the water darkened and the familiar aroma filled the air. Grabbing a teacup each for himself and Jenny, he felt a small semblance of normalcy returning.

He was reaching for the sugar when he heard a distinct clatter on the other side of the bar window. His hand froze mid-reach, and his heart skipped a beat. "What was that?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of unease as he emerged from the kitchen, teacups in hand.

"What was what?" Jenny replied, raising her eyebrows in genuine confusion. She was standing now, a sign that her strength was returning, which gave Giles a small measure of relief.

"I thought I heard something," Giles said, his eyes scanning the room, searching for any signs of intrusion or danger.

Jenny shrugged nonchalantly. "I didn't." She accepted the cup of tea from Giles with a grateful smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice warm and appreciative. She took a sip, the steam curling up around her face, adding a serene moment to the otherwise turbulent evening.

"Drink it, then I'll take you home," Giles promised, his voice gentle yet firm.

Jenny looked up at him, a playful twinkle in her eyes. "You could take me home…" she began, her tone suggestive as she set her tea on the desk. "Or you could take advantage of me in my weakened state."

Something stirred deep in Giles' gut, an urge to ignore everything else and give in to what she was suggesting. The temptation was strong, the need for closeness and comfort after the nightmarish events tugging at him. Jenny moved forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and digging her fingernails into the small of his back, sending a shiver through him.

His breath hitched, the closeness of her body, the warmth of her touch, all making it incredibly difficult to think straight. But he forced himself to back out of her embrace, his heart pounding in his chest. "Jenny, I'm really very attracted to you—" Giles began, his voice strained with the effort of restraint.

"Good," Jenny replied, a smirk playing on her lips, her eyes dark with desire.

Giles raised his hand between them, a barrier against the growing intensity. "But this isn't the right time," he said, his voice firm despite the conflict raging inside him.

"Oh, there's never been a better time," Jenny purred, grabbing his hand and forcing it down, then pushing him into his desk chair. Her flowery scent enveloped him as she straddled his lap, grinding into the growing presence in his trousers. His groan was cut off by Jenny capturing his mouth, forcing her tongue inside. He felt himself tugging at her sweater, but a wave of shame brought him back to the reality of everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. He broke away from her kiss, pulling her hands off of his chest and holding her away from him.

"No," Giles urged, his voice thick with regret, "it's not right. I'd be taking advantage."

Jenny backed off, a rather unsettling smile taking over her soft features. "God, you just don't change, do you?" she sneered, her tone dripping with contempt.

Giles looked at her, finding it difficult to breathe normally. "What?"

"It's not right, it wouldn't be proper," Jenny continued mockingly. "People might get hurt."

Giles backed away, his heart hammering in his chest. Jenny grabbed his wrists, pushing him back into the chair and holding him in place with an unnatural strength. He looked up at her, confused and afraid, his mind racing to make sense of what was happening.

"You're like a woman, Ripper," Jenny mocked, the nickname confirming his worst fears. This wasn't Jenny. Eyghon had possessed her. "You cry at every funeral," she said. "You never had the strength for me. You don't deserve me."

"No," Giles pleaded, knowing deep down it would accomplish nothing but unable to do anything else. Jenny, or rather Eyghon now fully in control, was on his lap again, her form twisting into something horrifyingly unnatural.

"But guess what? You've got me," it said in Jenny's soft voice, now twisted into something harsh and menacing, "under your skin!"

Lips crushed against his mouth painfully. Giles broke away, distraught to see Jenny's forehead suddenly glistening with rotting pockmarks, signs that Eyghon was breaking through. It would have to transfer to a new host soon, or its power would tear Jenny apart from within. Panic surged through him as he struggled to find a way to save her.

Eyghon grabbed Giles' head with unnatural strength and slammed him into the desk, the impact causing his ears to ring and pain to burst through his skull. Before he could fully recover, he was flung forcefully against the wall, his breath knocked out of him. He almost missed Buffy shimmering into view, standing between him and Jenny/Eyghon with a protective stance.

Buffy stood there, unwavering. "Back off," she commanded the demon, her voice filled with determination and steel.

"Three down, two to go," Jenny/Eyghon chuckled horribly, the voice now a chilling blend of Jenny's and the malevolent entity's. "Be seeing you." With a final taunting laugh, it backed away and then dove through a nearby window, shards of glass scattering.

Giles winced, both from the sight of the shattered window and the fear of what it had done to Jenny's fragile human form. He struggled to his feet, shaken and disoriented, his mind racing with worry for Jenny.

Buffy knelt down beside him, concern etched on her face. "Are you all right?"

"Jenny," Giles whispered, his voice filled with anguish and regret. "Oh, god."

"Giles, do you know how to stop this thing?" Buffy persisted, shaking his shoulder gently to bring him back to the urgency of the moment.

"As I told your brother, I don't," Giles replied, his voice heavy with guilt and frustration. He felt a crushing weight of responsibility, knowing that his past mistakes had led them all into this nightmare, and unsure if they could find a way to save Jenny before it was too late.

Giles turned to face Buffy, his expression fraught with guilt and regret. "I'm sorry…" he whispered, tears threatening to fill his eyes.

"Don't be sorry, be Giles!" Buffy said firmly, her voice tinged with determination. "Come on, we fight demons. They show up, they scare us, I beat them up, and they leave. This isn't any different."

Giles closed his eyes briefly, the weight of his confession pressing heavily on him. "It is different."

"Because you don't know how to stop it?" Buffy asked, her tone softer now, trying to understand the depth of his turmoil.

"Because I created it!" Giles blurted out, his voice filled with anguish, causing Buffy to startle back in surprise. "I take it your brother didn't tell you what I told him?"

"COLE BENJAMIN TURNER!" Buffy's voice rang out, a mix of anger and frustration. Throughout their lives, she and Cole had developed a unique way of calling each other without the need for magic or rituals.

Suddenly, Cole shimmered into the room, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What?" he asked his older sister, sensing the tension in the air.

"Why didn't you tell me what Giles told you?" Buffy demanded; her glare fixed on her younger brother.

Cole hesitated, looking from Buffy to Giles, then back again. "I didn't think it was relevant," he admitted reluctantly. "Giles told me about Eyghon, about his past. How he, Ethan and their friends summoned it in their youth."

Buffy's eyes widened in realization, the pieces falling into place. "You summoned it?" she asked Giles, her voice barely above a whisper, a mixture of disbelief and dismay coloring her tone.

Giles nodded; his gaze heavy with shame. "Yes. in our reckless youth, we summoned Eyghon for power. We thought we could control it, but…" He trailed off, unable to continue as the weight of his past mistakes settled heavily upon him.

Cole stepped forward; his expression troubled. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I intended to tell you, but I didn't get the chance," he apologized, regret evident in his voice.

"It's not your fault," Buffy said gently, her eyes softening as she looked at her brother. "But we need to focus on stopping Eyghon now." She turned to Giles; her expression resolute. "And since Eyghon said 'three down, two to go,' I'm assuming it's now targeting Ethan after failing to take you."

"That would be a safe assumption," Cole agreed, his voice grave with concern.

"Then to protect Giles, I need to protect Ethan," Buffy declared, her tone decisive as she glanced back at her brother. Without another word, she shimmered out of the room, her determination propelling her into action.

Cole turned to Giles, a sense of urgency in his eyes. "Come on, we're going back to the library to see if Buffy's friends have found a way to kill it," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos unfolding around them.

Giles nodded, grateful for Cole's swift action. Despite his own guilt and fear for Jenny, he knew they needed to focus on stopping Eyghon before it could claim any more victims.

Ethan's Costume Shop

Buffy shimmered into the costume shop, the air heavy with shadows and the eerie stillness of abandoned mannequins. Each one seemed to watch her with lifeless eyes, adding to the unsettling atmosphere.

"Ethan…" Buffy called out cautiously as she moved through the dimly lit space. Her footsteps echoed faintly on the polished floor, blending with the silence that enveloped the room. A faint noise made her spin around, her senses alert. Had something moved? Or was it just her imagination playing tricks in the darkness?

"I'm not here to hurt you... I'm sorry to say," Buffy continued, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "It's coming for you. We've got to stop it."

Ethan's voice, tinged with his trademark sarcasm, came from behind her. "And you came to protect me. I'm touched."

Buffy turned sharply, facing him with determination etched on her features. "Don't worry, it's nothing personal. To protect Giles, I have to protect you."

Ethan regarded her with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. "How does Ripper inspire such goodness?"

"Because he's Giles," Buffy replied simply, her gaze unwavering.

"And I'm not. Still, lucky me," Ethan remarked dryly, a hint of resignation in his tone.

"Lucky you," Buffy said with a faint smile, acknowledging the complexity of their situation while reaffirming her commitment to keeping Ethan safe from the looming threat of Eyghon.

"Well, we can't run. Eyghon will find us," Ethan said, a note of resignation in his voice as he gestured towards his tattoo. "This mark might as well be a homing beacon."

"That's all right. I'm not big on running anyway," Buffy replied, her tone determined despite the gravity of their situation.

"Aren't we manly," Ethan quipped, a touch of sarcasm lacing his words.

"One of us is," Buffy retorted with a wry smile. "You're gonna hide till it's over."

"Excellent plan," Ethan replied dryly, though his eyes betrayed his unease.

"Is there a way in through the back?" Buffy asked, already plotting their next move.

"There's a door, but it's locked. I think it's solid," Ethan informed her, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"Well, we can set you up back there. Come on," Buffy said, motioning for Ethan to follow as she headed towards the rear of the shop.

"Oh, no…" Ethan muttered under his breath, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face as he gestured for Buffy to lead the way. Reluctantly, he picked up a nearby board, holding it with trembling hands. As Buffy moved ahead, trusting him to follow, he hesitated for a brief moment before swinging the board with sudden, brutal force.

The blow struck Buffy on the head with a sickening crack. She collapsed to the ground, unconscious. Ethan stood over her, staring down at her prone form with conflicted emotions clouding his features.

"…ladies first," Ethan muttered bitterly, his voice betraying a mixture of fear and self-preservation.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Ethan's whistle cut through the air, an eerie contrast to the grim task he set about with disturbing calmness. Buffy lay bound on the long, narrow table, her limbs secured tightly. Her ankles were bound together, restricting any hope of escape, while her arms were wrapped around the table's edges, wrists tightly bound beneath it.

With deliberate movements, Ethan gently pulled Buffy's hair away, exposing the vulnerable back of her neck. His hands, steady despite the gravity of his actions, retrieved the tools of his dark craft. Ink and needle in hand, he began etching Eyghon's mark onto Buffy's skin, each stroke embedding a symbol of malevolent power into her flesh.

The rhythmic buzz of the tattoo needle filled the silent room, punctuated only by Ethan's occasional soft hum. His expression betrayed a mix of determination and regret, a man caught between his own survival and the betrayal of someone he had fought alongside. Yet, with every precise line drawn, he sealed Buffy's fate deeper into the clutches of Eyghon, a dark ritual unfolding under the guise of necessity.

Sunnydale High School

Willow remained immersed in her stack of books, flipping pages with determined focus while occasionally sipping her tea. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she absorbed the ancient knowledge that might hold the key to defeating Eyghon.

"We have to figure out how to kill this thing. And we have to do it fast," Willow's voice broke the silence, her urgency evident.

"Hot lava," Xander piped up with a hint of enthusiasm.

"That's for a heretic," Giles corrected him patiently.

"Oh, yeah. Okay, bury a potato. No, that's for warts," Xander muttered, flipping through his book with a mix of frustration and bemusement. "Who writes these things?"

"Duhh. I've got the solution, right here," Cordelia declared confidently, jabbing a finger at a passage in her book. "To kill a demon, cut its head off."

Cole exchanged a skeptical glance with Giles, knowing that Eyghon's formidable nature extended far beyond simple decapitation. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing in on them, the urgency to find a real solution palpable.

"Great work, Cordy," Xander added sarcastically, his agreement echoing Cole's silent skepticism.

"You could have done it," Cordelia quipped, glancing sideways at Xander, who shrugged half-heartedly.

"Not really," he admitted, his tone laced with reluctant agreement.

"Yeah, we'll just find Ms. Calendar and then we'll decapitate her. She can be the first headless computer teacher, think anyone'll notice?" Xander retorted, his attempt at humor falling flat in the tense atmosphere.

"You know what you need, Xander — besides a year's supply of acne cream — a brain," Cordelia shot back, her voice edged with impatience.

"He has more smarts than you do," Cole interjected coolly, stepping into the fray. "Not only does defeating an upper-level demon take more than simply chopping its head off, but think about the implications of what you suggest. People would question why your teacher is dead. In time, they would come to realize the truth that the world is far more complex and dangerous than their limited worldview allows."

"We've done the research, we've got to think how to use it," Willow asserted, pulling everyone's focus back to the urgent task at hand.

"Okay, what if we find another dead body for the demon to jump into?" Xander proposed, hopeful for a quick solution.

"Yeah, at the cemetery," Cordelia chimed in, her enthusiasm waning as Cole's skepticism set in.

"That won't kill the demon; it'll just give it a change of scenery," Cole interjected pragmatically.

Xander and Cordelia deflated with disappointment. "Oh! Oh! Oh! I've got it!" Willow suddenly exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with a new idea.

"What?" Cole prompted, intrigued by Willow's sudden excitement.

"Angel," Willow declared confidently.

"Elizabeth's boyfriend?" Cole clarified; a touch puzzled by the connection.

Willow looked at Cole with a furrowed brow, momentarily confused by the use of Elizabeth realizing that it was Buffy's full name. "Angel's dead, since he's a vampire. If Eyghon's life is thrown into jeopardy, it would jump into the next viable host. Then his demon and Eyghon would fight for control of Angel's body," Willow explained, connecting the dots quickly.

"Is the vampire the only viable host for such a tactic?" Cole queried, his brow furrowing slightly as he considered alternatives to using the vampire.

"I see where Cole is going," Giles interjected, looking over at Cole thoughtfully. "Could Eyghon jump into another host?"

"Well, the texts say it can only jump into a dead or unconscious person," Willow replied, flipping through the pages of a thick tome. "But I guess it's possible. After all, we've all seen how books don't always reveal the full extent of a demon's powers."

Ethan's Costume Shop

"Wakey, wakey. You're missing all the fun," Ethan quipped, standing back to admire his handiwork on Buffy's neck where the Mark of Eyghon now sat.

Buffy craned her neck towards him, her vision blurry as she tried to focus. "What fun?"

"Your initiation," Ethan replied with a twisted smile.

"You know what?" Buffy grunted, straining against the ropes that bound her. "I'm not really interested in joining your club."

"Too late. I already voted you in," Ethan retorted casually. "You know, I hope you're not taking this personally, Buffy. I actually kind of like you."

Buffy shot him a fierce glare; her cheek pressed painfully against the table.

"It's just that I like myself a lot more," Ethan continued, his grin widening. "If you think of it karmically, this is really big for your soul, you know? Taking my place with the demon. Giving, so that others may live."

"I'm going to kill you," Buffy declared, a false brightness in her voice. "Think that'll blow the whole karma thing?"

Ethan reached for the green glass bottle on the tray. Buffy flinched, her eyes widening as she began to struggle more fervently against her bonds. "Relax, I'm finished with you," he assured her with a twisted smile. "This is for me..."

He rolled up his shirtsleeve and uncorked the bottle of acid, his face tightening with grim determination as he braced for the excruciating pain. Pouring the acid onto his tattoo, he gritted his teeth against the searing sensation as the skin bubbled and melted away. There was a pang of deeper emotion as he realized he was ridding himself of the last physical evidence of his connection to Giles. He didn't have a choice.

Once the offending mark was obliterated along with the flesh it had marked, Ethan hastily reached for bandages, wrapping his arm tightly. Blood seeped through the first layer, but he knew it would suffice until he could find safety.

Turning back to Buffy lying bound on the table, he hesitated. "I hate to mutilate and run, but—"

A sudden chill ran down his spine as an eerie light flooded through the window in the door. The door began to tremble and vibrate, then swung open as if compelled by unseen forces. Ethan stumbled backward in shock as a small figure emerged from the glowing portal.

It was Jenny, or rather Eyghon wearing Jenny's form, her once-human features contorted and stretched, her skin starting to decay and ooze. "It is your time," she growled, her voice echoing with a chilling resonance.

Ethan stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest as Eyghon approached him methodically. The demon, wearing Jenny's deteriorating form, gazed up at him with unsettling intensity. A bead of sweat trickled down Ethan's temple as he tried to maintain his composure. He held his breath as Eyghon sniffed the air, every instinct urging him not to flinch. In a sudden motion, the demon jerked its head toward Buffy.

Before Ethan could react, he was hurtled violently into a nearby glass display case, crashing to the ground in a disheveled heap. Stunned, he watched as Buffy shimmered out of her bonds just in time, narrowly escaping Eyghon's grasp. The demon landed heavily on the table instead. Ethan scrambled to his feet, his gaze darting between the unfolding battle and the shimmering figure of Buffy.

Buffy's form rippled and transformed, her skin adorned with red tribal markings as she grew taller, assuming the imposing figure of Nyxara. Ethan's shock was palpable as he witnessed the transformation, unsure of what to make of this new entity before him.

Eyghon gripped the table and shoved it forcefully into Nyxara's midsection. The impact drove Nyxara against the wall with alarming force, her expression strained from the pressure. Reacting swiftly, Nyxara released an energy ball that struck Eyghon, knocking the demon back momentarily.

Seizing the opportunity while Eyghon was momentarily distracted, Ethan cautiously began to rise, intending to slip away unnoticed. His movements halted abruptly as a commanding voice boomed from the doorway.

Cole led the reinforcements—Angel, Giles, Willow, Xander, and Cordelia—into the darkened shop. "Nyxara," Cole called out urgently. "You need to put Eyghon's life in jeopardy. It must be compelled to flee, seeking a new host."

Nyxara met her brother's gaze briefly, understanding his directive. With determination, she lunged at Jenny/Eyghon, grappling with the possessed form and dragging it forcefully toward a crate at the back of the room. Nyxara slammed Eyghon into the crate with brutal force, causing Jenny to stir within her mental confinement.

"I hope you're right about this, Willow," Giles murmured anxiously, his concern etched deeply into his features as he watched the intense struggle unfold.

Nyxara shook Jenny's frail body, the remnants of Eyghon's possession draining the color from her face. Jenny/Eyghon staggered, and Giles felt as though he too was collapsing, only the support of the vampire next to him keeping him upright. As Nyxara slammed against the back wall in convulsions, the scene intensified into a desperate struggle.

Giles noticed a glimmer of relief as Jenny's battered face began to regain its familiar features, unconscious but unmistakably herself now that Eyghon had transferred into Nyxara. Willow's arms released him, and Giles lunged toward Jenny's crumpled form on the floor. He grasped her shoulders tightly, shaking them with tear-filled desperation, pleading silently for her to wake, to be safe.

Around them, the others watched in tense silence as Nyxara's physical form flickered and shifted. She morphed from her demonic manifestation to Buffy's recognizable form, then contorted into the grotesque visage of Eyghon. The transitions were rapid, each shift accompanied by a visceral struggle playing out internally.

Finally, Eyghon let out a piercing scream, its torment echoing through the room as it dissolved into nothingness. Nyxara collapsed to the ground, her body reverting to Buffy's as the shock of the transformation rippled through Willow, Xander, and Cordelia. They had not known Buffy harbored such a dual nature—a revelation that left them stunned and speechless.

Cole and Angel hurried over to where Buffy lay, their concern palpable as they checked on her well-being. Meanwhile, seizing the moment, Ethan quietly slipped away, taking advantage of the chaos to evade notice and make his escape.

"Jenny?" Giles called softly, his voice trembling as he noticed a faint flutter of motion behind her eyelids.

"Rupert," came Jenny's weak but unmistakable voice.

Giles let out a cry of relief, wrapping her in a careful but firm embrace. He shifted back slightly to give her some air, his hands lingering on her shoulders. "It's okay. I've got you," he whispered, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

Cole and Angel helped Buffy to her feet, their movements synchronized in their urgency. "You knew that if the demon was in danger, it would jump into the nearest viable host," Buffy said, piecing together the events with a weary but determined expression.

"That's right," Angel confirmed, his gaze steady and reassuring.

"Your friend Willow thought it would be a dead person. But I knew that demons don't always reveal the extent of their powers," Cole explained, his tone both matter-of-fact and slightly protective. "So, I surmised you or I would work too. But just to be on the safe side, I brought your boyfriend just in case."

"So, I put it in danger," Buffy said, understanding dawning on her face.

"And it jumped," Cole confirmed. "Into you. But seeing how you and I are both part demon, well, I knew that…"

"Your demon half could prevail," Angel interjected. "Your demon half was just waiting for a good fight."

"Uh, I think that Ethan guy disappeared," Xander said, glancing at Giles. He, Willow, and Cordelia avoided making eye contact with Buffy, still reeling from the shock of witnessing her transformation.

"Darn. I really wanted to hit him till he bled," Buffy said with a sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly. She knew she had a long conversation ahead of her with her friends, an explanation they deserved but one she wasn't entirely ready to give.

Underworld

Cole shimmered into the Underworld, he appeared in the precise cavern where the Triad held their clandestine meetings, the air thick with the oppressive weight of dark magic and power. The chamber was vast, its rocky walls adorned with ancient symbols and glowing runes that pulsed with a sinister light. Stalactites hung from the ceiling like the fangs of some great beast, and the very air seemed to hum with malevolence.

The Triad, three imposing figures cloaked in darkness, turned their attention to Cole. Their eyes glowed with an eerie, malevolent intensity, and their presence exuded an overwhelming sense of dread. The air around them seemed to chill, and the shadows deepened as they regarded their visitor.

"Eyghon has been destroyed," Cole announced, his voice echoing off the cavern walls like a solemn proclamation. "Nyxara destroyed it herself."

The Triad exchanged glances; their expressions inscrutable behind their hoods. The one in the center, their leader, took a step forward, his voice a low, rumbling growl that seemed to vibrate through the stone. "Nyxara, you say? Your sister? The half-Slayer, half-demon child?"

Cole involuntarily stepped back, his eyes widening with a mix of surprise and concern. "You know she's part Slayer?" he said, his voice holding a tone of deep concern for his older sister.

The leader of the Triad nodded slowly, his gaze never wavering. "We know much about your sister, Belthazor," he said, his voice carrying a weight of ancient knowledge and power. "Her lineage, her potential… and her threat."

Cole's mind raced. The Triad's awareness of Buffy's dual nature meant they saw her not just as a formidable opponent, but as a key piece in their dark machinations. He had always known that the Source or the Triad or even both would see her as a threat. That had been why he had hid her with a mortal family to begin with. The memory of that decision, made out of a desperate need to protect his sister, now weighed heavily on him. He had hoped to shield her from this world, but it seemed the darkness had a way of finding her regardless.

"Her dual nature makes her a wildcard," the leader continued, his eyes narrowing as he studied Cole. "She possesses the strength and resilience of a Slayer, combined with the raw power of a demon. Such a combination is rare and… unpredictable."

Cole swallowed hard, the implications of their words settling heavily on his shoulders. "She's my sister," he said, his voice steadying. "And while she may be powerful, she's also fiercely loyal and determined to protect those she cares about."

The Triad's leader tilted his head slightly, a gesture that could have been either contemplation or dismissal. "Loyalty and determination are commendable," he said slowly. "But they can also be exploited. Keep a close watch on her, Cole. Nyxara's path is intertwined with our own, and the time may come when you will need to choose where your true loyalties lie."

Cole nodded, understanding the unspoken command. "I will," he said, knowing where his loyalties lay. It was not with the Source or the Triad; it was with his sister. "I'll keep you informed."

"See that you do," the leader replied, his voice echoing with finality. "For her sake... and for yours."

As Cole shimmered out of the oppressive chamber, his thoughts remained in turmoil. He reappeared in a darkened alley, the cool night air a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the Underworld. He took a deep breath, the weight of the Triad's expectations pressing down on him. He knew the path ahead was fraught with danger, not just for him, but for Buffy as well.

He walked through the shadows, his mind replaying the Triad's words. The idea that Buffy's loyalty and determination could be exploited gnawed at him. He knew they would stop at nothing to use her for their own ends. He had to be vigilant, to ensure she remained safe.

November 15, 1997 – Sunday

Sunnydale High School

In the library, Buffy looked at Willow and Xander with trepidation, the weight of her confession heavy on her shoulders. She briefly glanced at Giles and Angel, who flanked her, their supportive presence giving her the strength to continue.

"My real name is Elizabeth Anne Turner," she began, her voice steady despite the fear in her eyes. "I am half-human, half-demon. I was born on January 20, 1880, not 1980 like you guys believe. I am a hundred and sixteen years old. When I was called as the Slayer over a year ago, my brother, fearing what the Source of All Evil or the Triad would do, hid me with Joyce Summers. He cast a spell on Joyce to make her believe I was her daughter."

The room fell into a stunned silence. Willow's eyes widened, her mind racing to process the revelation. Xander's jaw dropped, his usually quick wit rendered speechless. Cordelia blinked rapidly, as if trying to wake from a dream. The shock in their faces was palpable, and Buffy felt a pang of guilt for the deception, even though she knew it had been necessary.

Willow was the first to find her voice. "You've been hiding this from us all this time?" Her tone was a mix of hurt and confusion.

Buffy nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor. "I didn't want to, but it was for your safety as well as mine. The world I come from is dangerous, and knowing the truth would have put you all at risk."

Xander finally managed to speak. "So, let me get this straight. You're like, a super-old, half-demon Slayer?"

Buffy couldn't help but smile faintly at his summary. "Yeah, that's about the gist of it."

Giles stepped forward, his expression a mixture of pride and concern. "Buffy, or rather Elizabeth, has always been dedicated to her duty as the Slayer. Her unique heritage gives her abilities and insights that are beyond any other Slayer we've known."

Angel added, "She's faced challenges that would have broken most people, and she's come through stronger every time."

Buffy looked at her friends, her expression pleading. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to trust me. We're in this together, and I need your support now more than ever."

Willow took a deep breath, her eyes softening with understanding. "Of course we trust you, Buffy. This doesn't change who you are to us. We're your friends, and we're here for you, no matter what."

Xander nodded vigorously. "Yeah, what she said. We've faced vampires, demons, and apocalypses together. What's one more secret?"

A wave of relief washed over Buffy. She had feared their rejection, but their unwavering support reinforced her resolve. "Thank you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I couldn't ask for better friends."