21 - No Slaying In the Library

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EMERGENCY NEWSFLASH: All citizens remain in your homes, do not venture outside under any circumstances. We are experiencing a class twelve dimensional rupture and the planet Earth is being invaded by extra-dimensional entities of unknown origin. All necessary steps toward repelling this invasion are already underway. Please remain calm and wait for further information. I repeat, stay in your homes and await further information.

Download from Global News Network Omninet, December 5, 2057

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At the latest count neither the number of ethereal nor physical dimensions was stable. They were constantly changing, new dimensions being born even as old ones withered and died, leaves of a lotus flower falling off and to the ground while new leaves grew to take their place. There was no such thing as a fixed trail through these dimensions, no route that would take you the shortest way through all of them.

8,916,100,448,256 dimensions, twelve to the twelfth power, and Kendra was getting a bit tired. Over 4,000 Slayer had split up into small teams to scurry through worlds that were coming closer and closer together, guided only by the spell the witch Willow had given them. It provided, at best, a sense of direction, a feeling of coming closer or moving further away from their intended goal.

The old game of hot and cold, Kendra thought with a wry smile. She had never played it in life.

Along with her three companions, Diana, Nicky, and a Slayer from 18th century America called Jamie, Kendra had moved through worlds and dimensions she had never even dreamed of, much less imagined herself to visit one of these days.

They moved through a dimension that seemed to be an infinite plain of green grass, traversed by small groups of men and women on horseback, who waved to them as they flew by. They crossed through a world that was covered only with water, saw an entire civilization that flourished in its watery depths.

Their spirits were heavy as they visited a dead world circling a black star, where mass graves of dead warriors covered every square meter of the charred ground. The Slayers traversed an iron labyrinth that had a monster at its center, who advised them to move through an iron door nearby. It brought them to a city trapped inside eternal mist, where shadows conversed with each other on how best to escape from here.

Through it all they could feel the rumble of shattering barriers, dimensions moving closer and closer together, and they knew that they didn't have much time left.

Crossing dimensions once more they found themselves in a simple street, snaking along between endless rows of simple stone buildings, none of them more than two stories tall. They started walking, feeling that they were finally getting closer to their goal. In front of them they could see the street making impossible turns, upside, looping into the sky, curving through seemingly solid buildings which had no more substance than the shimmering air. They felt cold.

Walking around a corner into a side street they met a young girl who was looking for her dog. She was strange, her appearance constantly changing, her shadow bearing no relation to the body she wore. A small nightmare was walking by her side and bowed to them, honored to meet the famed Slayers of legend. The girl asked them whether they knew where her dog was and they were sad that they could not help her.

The next block held a little shop that sold needful things and the Slayers were asked by the shop owner whether they would play a small practical joke on the church chaplain on the other side of the street in exchange for a map that would show them their way to a place called the Library. The Slayers did not trust the evil looking face of the owner and declined, walking on instead.

It turned night when they rounded the next corner and strange stars burned overhead, making it clear that they had crossed dimensions once again without noticing. Three moons sped across the sky, fast enough that their movement could be seen by the unaided eye, or were they moving so slow? Several shadows skimmed past them and they paid them no attention.

Kendra got a glimpse of a strange figure, all blades and chromium steel, gutting a man where he stood, and they ran around the next corner.

They spent what appeared to be a week walking through the streets of a city that supposedly called itself Atlantis on a world called Gaia. They spoke to some of the people there and asked them whether they knew where to find the Book of Borders, but the people didn't see them. They were ghosts here again, it seemed, and could do nothing but move on.

Passing through a door set into a free floating statue of an ancient god, they arrived on another street, flanked by high-tech towers reaching up until they disappeared in a sky filled with bright suns from horizon to horizon. They spent some time talking to an artificial man who told them of his own lost journey through dimensions and how he wanted to find a starship called Prometheus. They parted, each wishing the other luck and a good journey.

While walking across the surface of what seemed to be the moon of Earth, the blue planet hanging in the sky like the eye of god, they stopped briefly to stroke a cat that walked across their path. It purred in response and pointed them toward another side street, indicating that this might be the right way for them. Then the cat vanished, its eyes and grin taking a moment longer to fade from view then the rest of it.

They found themselves in another plain city of stone and dusty side streets, the spell that helped them track their goal humming strong in their minds. The Book of Borders had to be near, so they walked up to a man standing at a corner and asked him for the way. By now they were certain that they were far beyond any kind of dimension ever catalogued by humans, alive or dead.

The man took out a street map and studied it. Kendra could make no sense of the twisting streets and warped highways she saw on what she thought was paper. Then the man pointed down the street they had just come from, even though it looked different now. The Slayers thanked the man who looked almost exactly like a man they had met in Atlantis several weeks earlier, only centuries older. The other did not seem to recognize them.

Walking down the street led them to a door made from cold iron, runes carved into them that seemed to be familiar to Kendra. Didn't they look a bit like the ones on the cover of the Necronomicon Nocturnum?

They opened the door and entered the Library.

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The Librarian became aware that he had visitors. It wasn't that unusual an occurrence, though only a handful of entities even knew of this place's existence, much less how to get here. The Librarian had recently developed a string of paranoia, seeing as one of his books had been stolen only a short while ago. Short being relative to the spans of time the Librarian used to think in.

The visitors had barely entered the Library through one of its more distant and seldom-used entrances when the Librarian began to study them. He was certain they had never been here before. His memory wasn't perfect, unless it came to his books, but he thought that he would have remembered these creatures had he ever seen them before.

It took him but a moment to recognize their nature. Formerly physical beings, now passed beyond the pale into a state of pure quantum energy. Souls, yes, that was what the mortals called this state of being. These were not ordinary mortals, though, as he realized a moment later. They had been touched, all four of them, by one of the higher powers.

The Librarian knew all the books inside his library from start to finish, so it took him but another few seconds (time being very relative in this place) to remember a book that described mortals such as these in intimate detail.

Slayers. His visitors were Slayers.

With but a thought he stood before them, causing them to start back. They were new to the realms he traveled in, that much was apparent, and it was only due to the magic surrounding them that they had been able to find this place at all. The Librarian looked at them, curious to find out what they wanted, as prescience was not one of his abilities.

He waited a while longer until he realized they were trying to speak to him. Spoken words, he thought with the barest hint of a smile. How long had it been since anyone had used the spoken word in his presence? He didn't know. Searching for the long-neglected sense that would respond to this form of communication the Librarian finally concentrated on his hearing.

"... the Book of Borders. Do you know where we can find it?"

The Book of Borders? Could this be a coincidence, he wondered. A book from the same collection as the one that had been stolen from him recently? Yet he was certain that these four spirits were not responsible for the theft. They knew much too little about their own state of being and the possibilities it offered to have accomplished that. Still, there might be a connection.

The Librarian was rather certain that, as he had almost forgotten how to receive information through the spoken word, he would be horribly inadequate in trying to convey information in that way. So he drew one of his more useful books from the folds of his robe and opened it for the Slayers to look at.

The empty pages quickly filled with words, asking them what they wanted with the Book of Borders. He considered asking them about his stolen book, but resolved to first find out a bit more about their intentions first.

"We need it to repair the Ethereal Treshold." The spirit that seemed to be the leader of this small group told him, again in spoken words. "The Necronomicon Nocturnum told us that the Book of Borders would help us."

He had been right, there was a connection. Now that he knew it was easy for him to see that at least one of the four had clearly been close to his lost book. Its aura permeated her own.

The pages again filled with words. Where is the Necronomicon Nocturnum? It was stolen from here.

The spirits conversed among themselves for a moment, speaking too quick for the Librarian to follow. Maybe he should practice the spoken word more often. It might come in handy should he ever find himself in a situation such as this again.

"We did not steal the Necronomicon." The lead spirit informed him after a minute. "We will gladly return it to you, but first we need the Book of Borders to undo the damage the Necronomicon has wrought in our world."

A logical demand, the Librarian had to admit. Someone had apparently delivered his stolen book into the hands of these children, or ones like them, and it had led to chaos. Well, what else could one expect when giving power such as the book represented into the hands of these primitive beings? The question was whether he should really consider giving them access to yet more dangerous knowledge in order to repair the damage already done.

Deciding there was but one way to find out, he drew another book from his robe even as the pages of the one still floating in front of him spelled out another message for the spirits.

Write in this book, then we will see.

A pen appeared in the hand of the lead spirit, who called herself Kendra. She seemed confused for a moment, not knowing what he wanted her to write, but that didn't matter much. As soon as the second book was before her, its empty pages looking up at her, her hand moved of its own accord and began to write.

The Book of Written Truth quickly unveiled her intentions to the Librarian. Spoken words were full of lies, he remembered reading somewhere, but a book such as this could hold nothing but the truth. Lies would not hold on its pages. So the little spirit could do nothing but write the truth and nothing but the truth.

The Librarian was satisfied with what he read.

Without discernible movement they were in front of a large bookshelf, the same one where the absence of one book caused almost physical discomfort for the Librarian. Eleven books in that collection altogether, all of them very old and dangerous. He drew one of the remaining ten from its resting place, checking the cover to make sure that it was the right one. It was a superfluous move, he would never reach for a wrong book, but in this case he found that making sure was the safer way to handle things.

The Book of Borders, as full of ancient magic as the Necronomicon Nocturnum. The four little spirits eagerly awaited his handing the book to them, but at the last moment he thought better. No reason to tempt fate more than necessary.

Carefully he opened the book and found the pages he sought. Yes, these should do. Without any movement on his part three pages separated from the book, torn out by invisible hands without leaving any kind of ragged edge or damage. The Librarian would later be able to fit the pages back into the book and no one would ever be able to tell that they had been absent.

He handed the pages to the four little spirits, all the while the Book of Borders returned to its resting place. The smaller book still hovering in front of him displayed one final message for his visitors.

"Bring back the pages and the Necronomicon as soon as you can." After a moment another word appeared. "Please."

22 - Afterlife, the Universe, and Everything

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EMERGENCY NEWSFLASH: A multi-national military task force has moved into position to repel the extra-dimensional invasion currently taking place over the Balkans. Information is sketchy, but apparently this force also includes a division comprised entirely of Vampires, led by the famed Angelus.

Hostilities are to commence at any time now. All citizens stay in your homes until the crisis has passed. We will keep you up to date on new developments as they occur.
 

Download from Global News Network Omninet, December 6, 2057

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"How close are we?"

"Close enough to smell them. If they smell."

Angel and Spike stood on a hilltop near the gathering zone and looked at the end of the world happening right in front of them. Demons and angels locked in a deadly embrace of power and destruction, the air around them burning, the fabric of space screaming as they tore through it with fire and damnation.

None of it touched the Earth. Yet.

"I don't think we have been here since that day." Angel said, never taking his eyes off the battle. "Never even ventured close."

Their forces were assembling less than a mile away from the overlapping, the point where the dimensions were falling into one another. Sensors showed the convergence zone to cover an area of over one hundred square kilometers, growing larger by the minute. And moving closer to coming in synch with their own dimension as well.

The abandoned monastery where they had found the Necronomicon Nocturnum all these years ago was a few kilometers off to their left.

"This is a really bad time to return to your brood routine, Peaches." Spike told him. "You might want to save that for after we kick their shiny haloed asses back to the pearly gates."

Angel smiled at his childe, but inside he doubted they could. Looking behind him for a moment he watched the assembling army, forces from just about every military of the world, plus some that weren't. In over 300 years of existence he had never seen a military force so large assembled in so short a time. Even as he watched more vehicles and soldiers were pouring in through the shimmering portals of half a dozen Stepping Disks.

Seeing what was in front of them, he doubted it would make any difference.

"Even if we do that," he said, "it won't solve the problem. The pearly gates are coming here, Will. As is just about every other dimension we ever heard of. And a lot we haven't."

The gaping rend into nothingness hung over their heads like an omen of doom, reminding them that the apocalypse taking place right in front of them might yet prove to be the lesser threat.

"We got a few thousand Slayers scouring every dimension imaginable for that other book, remember?"

"And we haven't heard a peep from them since they went on their journey. Our time is running out."

Angel checked the remote unit he carried on his wrist, hooked directly into the orbital sensor grid that was watching the battle in front of them with keen digital eyes.

"We can't afford to wait until their dimensions are in synch with ours. The forces they unleash against each other would reduce the Earth to cinders in a matter of hours. We have to take the battle to them."

It was a desperate gamble they played. The longer they waited, the greater the chance that the Slayers might yet return with the Book of Borders. But they couldn't wait forever.

"Willow's people estimate another hour at best until synchronicity is achieved." Angel checked the readings. "Meaning we have to get moving now."

Spike took a flask from the back of his pants and drained it in a single gulp.

"Here we go, we band o'buggered." He mumbled as he followed Angel down the hill. "Once more into the breach, to kick ass and take names."

At the foot of the hill a small group of people was waiting for them, positioned around a small field table. Buffy and Faith stood close together, checking each other's combat gear for the hundredth time or so. Giles and Wesley, who looked more real than ever before with the Threshold as thin as it was, stood close to them, silently conferring about something. Luke, who would lead their entire compliment of Vampires, including the Tarakans, stood next to them.

General John Reddeck had been put into overall command of the assembled military forces, but only after receiving orders from President Chase himself that he was to follow the orders of the black-clad Vampire coming down the hill right now. Reddeck wasn't particularly fond of taking orders from civilians, alive or undead, but had quickly come to realize that this Angel O'Conner, sometime Marshall for the PID, knew a whole lot more about what was going on here than he did. So he grudgingly accepted the chain of command as it was.

"We're going to move out." Angel said without preamble. "The dimensions are almost in synch, we can't afford to wait any longer. General, your troops are ready?"

"As can be. We will be moving in with as much initial firepower as we can. As we don't know what weapons in our arsenal can hurt these creatures," if any, he didn't say, "we will try and hit them with everything right at the get go."

"Good." Angel nodded. "Our only real chance of winning this battle is to take out their power sources. The Repository," he pointed to the gleaming steel city that hovered in the air above them, "and Hells' Tower of the Damned." The black monstrosity was visible even behind the hills.

"I understand your troops will move in and try to accomplish just that." Reddeck asked for confirmation.

"Yes, General. We need your people to provide as much covering fire as you can muster, so that we can sneak close to those siege engines without having to fight our way through those two armies. With some luck we will be able to ..."

Angel's voice trailed off as his eyes focused on something behind them. Buffy was the first to turn around, alarmed by what she felt across her bond with Angel. The others followed suite, wondering what could possibly ...

An angel stood before them. An angel that looked like he had been through a war. The battle armor he wore was scorched and broken in a dozen places, the skin beneath it raw and bleeding. His formerly handsome face was smeared with sooth and the brilliant white wings folded on his back were stained with blood. So much blood.

Buffy had been to Heaven, had faced the seven Archangels. She recognized him.

"Raphael!" She whispered.

He carried a sword in one hand, a sword that, just like his wings, was stained with the blood of his enemies. Probably some of his own as well. Even as they watched the sword fell from his hand, clattering to the ground.

"This is your fault!" The Archangel whispered, pain evident in each of the four words.

Angel took a step toward him, aware that the sudden appearance of Raphael had attracted the attention of quite a few soldiers, who were pointing their guns at him. No one was shooting yet, though.

"Raphael, we ..." He began.

"I am the Angel of Healing!" Raphael thundered at him, causing the watching soldiers to start. "I was created to ease suffering! To preserve life! But now ... now ..."

He dropped to his knees, weeping glowing tears from his eyes.

"This is all your fault!" He repeated.

Angel gestured to the soldiers to lower their weapons, Buffy and him slowly moving toward the Archangel.

"Raphael!" Angel began anew. "We are trying our best to undo the damage we did. We ..."

Raphael's face shot up from his hands, a condensing smile on his face.

"Oh, you clueless idiots. You think this is happening because of your precious Restoration spell? Yes, of course. You gave us the excuse. The excuse to begin a war that was inevitable from the day you created us."

"We ... we created you?" Buffy asked, confused.

Raphael exploded into laughter, but there was no humor in it.

"You don't even know, do you?" He sobbed between laughs. "You caused all this and you don't even know. Do you think we wanted to be like this? Do you think we asked for it?"

In a lightning fast movement he grabbed Buffy by the shoulders and pulled her in close, bringing them eye to eye. Angel was about go between them, but something made him hesitate. There was so much pain on Raphael's face and he was certain it didn't hail from his many wounds.

"Look into my eyes, human!" The Archangel thundered at Buffy. "Look into my eyes and tell me what you see!"

Buffy was caught in a grip that could crush mountains, but it didn't even register with her right now. She stared into Raphael's eyes, as she had done once before during her visit to Heaven. Now, like then, she saw past the gleam of power and light the angels carried in their eyes. Behind that ...

"Nothing!" She whispered. "I look into your eyes and there is nothing."

Raphael let her go and crumbled to the ground, weeping.

"Why couldn't you just stay content with what you had?" He whispered. "Why couldn't you just go beyond the pale and just be content with nothingness? No, you had to start expecting things. You wanted there to be things on the other side of the Threshold, you wanted glorious worlds on the other side of death, worlds filled with angels and demons, gods and monsters."

Looking up at them, he laughed again. "I hope you are happy with our Armageddon, humans. Is it like you always imagined it? Do we perform to your satisfaction?"

Everyone who had heard his words was frozen, unable to believe what he had told them. Buffy's thoughts were going in circles. Was it possible? That terrible world she had seen during her trip to Heaven, these empty creatures who wanted nothing but war and destruction ... was it possible that they had created them? Had mankind's hunger for a life after death created them?

"We never wanted this." Raphael whispered, all strength gone from his huge frame. "But what choice did we have? How could an angel pass on the opportunity to destroy Hell? How could we not gather as much power as we could in order to do that? How could we not bring about the end of the world if that was what you wanted from us?"

Angel listened and had to think of all the different religions he knew. The Norse Ragnarok, the Revelation of John, the Greek Gods battling the Titans, just about every religion on Earth spoke of a final battle that would bring about the end. Did mankind want it that way? Had they somehow managed to create a self-fulfilling prophecy only through their belief?

No! He would not accept that!

"Raphael!" He knelt down beside the Archangel. "I am sorry if we somehow caused this suffering you have to go through, but right now we have to concentrate on preventing it. I don't care if humanity somehow has brought this down on themselves, but we are going to stop it from happening."

Raphael just laughed. "And how will you do that, human? The final battle has already begun. It can not be stopped. None of us can stop, we don't have the will to make a choice. You never gave us that."

"But you made the choice to come here." Buffy told him. "If everything you said is true you should still be out there, doing your best to slaughter demons, instead of coming here. Why are you here, Raphael?"

The angel looked confused for a moment. "I ... I am the Angel of Healing. You created me ... created me that way. I have to ... to try and ..."

"We are going to stop this, Raphael!" Angel told him forcefully. "And if you can help us we might even have a chance."

"A chance?"

"We are going to destroy the Repository and the Tower of the Damned."

For a long moment Raphael just stared at him, then he exploded into laughter again.

"You are funny, human. I wish you had given us some of your sense of humor along the way."

"I am not joking. We are going to destroy those siege engines, which will rob both Heaven and Hell of their power to continue this war, correct?"

Taken in by the determination on Angel's face Raphael grew serious again.

"Yes, yes it will but ..."

"Can you help us do it?"

The two men, one an angel in truth, the other just in name, looked at each other for long minutes. Raphael, this empty creature, saw a being that was so much more than he could ever hope to be. Filled with dreams, with hope, despite all the self doubt and guilt he also carried with him. It made the emptiness inside himself even more painful that it had always been.

Angel looked at Raphael and imagined that he saw the barest glint of ... something ... inside that emptiness.

"I ... I will help you." Raphael said.

"Good!" Angel offered him his hand and pulled him back to his feet. "With your help we might just have a good chance to ..."

He was cut off when the air around them started to shimmer. Soldiers raised their weapons again, Vampires slipped into demon faces, Raphael reached for his dropped sword.

Without warning more than 4,000 ghostly shapes snapped into existence all around them, spirits in the form of young girls, filling every empty place in the gathering zone, scaring more than a few soldiers half to death.

Kendra materialized right in front of Buffy and Angel, smiling.

"You ordered a book?" She said.

Angel took the three pages she offered him, confused for a moment, but only until they touched his skin. The symbols of the paper moved and shifted as he looked at them, showing him the knowledge they contained.

Buffy gasped as the power spilled through their bond. "Angel?" She asked.

A smile spread on Angel's face as he looked up at his friends and allies.

"We might just win this one yet."

23 - To Storm the Pearly Gates

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ENGAGEMENT ORDERS:

Mission Objective: Special units comprised of Angelus' Vampires and the spirits that have manifested just now are going after the two siege engines that supply power to the extra-dimensionals.

To aid in that mission all mechanized troops are to lay down heavy covering fire on the warring parties as soon as they have gone through the Stepping Disks. Clear a path toward the main objectives. Retreat is not an option. No prisoners.

Orders issued by General John Reddeck, December 6, 2057, 13:45

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The Angel of Death was in her element. All around her the battle she had prepared for all her existence was raging and Gabriel practiced her trade. She had lost count of the demons that had fallen into ashes under her searing touch, did not know from how many different creatures the blood on her flaming blade hailed, and she did not care in the least. This was the final battle and if the universe collapsed into smoldering ashes after it, so be it.

If angels were capable of having fun then Gabriel was having a blast.

Legions upon legions of demonic warriors swarmed towards the armies of Heaven and were met with white fire. Gabriel wore a greater demon's severed head around her neck as a trophy, even as her sword sheared through the attackers like a scythe at harvest.

She was quite surprised when the battle lines were suddenly bathed in the fires of exploding missiles.

"Who dares?" Gabriel thundered, looking for whatever demonic attack was coming toward them from their flank.

Half a dozen golden disks burned brightly in the sky. Gabriel needed but a moment to realize that they were portals, allowing access to this convergence of collapsing dimensions from elsewhere. She had taken note that the Ethereal Threshold had ruptured, but only in passing, giving but the slightest thought to the fact that their battle would incinerate the world of mortals the moment the dimensions were in synch, which would happen any moment now.

Never in a million years would she have expected that world to fight back.

Armored vehicles of all shapes and sizes spilled through the dimensional openings, finding track on the scorched ground of Hell, and opened fire. Missiles streaked toward the warring armies, carrying warheads ranging from light ordnance to tactical nukes. Fighter jets and bombers followed, unleashing their own version of fire and brimstone. Thousands of armored soldiers streamed through in the wake of the armor, advancing in orderly formations that were foreign to both the armies of Heaven and Hell, and started shooting. Their ranks were bolstered by several thousand spirits, each of them touched by the higher powers and eager for action.

Nearly a full minute passed before either angel or demon were able to overcome their shock at this new development.

The weapons of humanity, harnessing both the power of technology and magic, tore into the warring armies with a vengeance. Lesser angels and demons vaporized as explosions bloomed like miniature suns. Hailstorms of bullets, enchanted and regular, tore them to pieces where they stood. Bloodstained feathers rained to the ground like so much snow. That first minute of combat the united armies of Earth inflicted fatalities that would have made the most hardened of generals weep.

Then the shock passed.

Gabriel was among the first to counter this new and completely unexpected threat. She was the Angel of Death and humans had learned to fear her long before the written word could tell of her deeds. She had turned human cities to salt, had rained fire down upon Soddom and Ghommora. Never in a million years would she have believed them capable of lifting a finger against the Heavenly Host, but that didn't mean she would let them get away with it.

With but a gesture her power struck at the advancing human army and a hundred soldiers died where they stood, their hearts bursting in their chests. The demons retaliated as well. Hellfire flared, melting battle steel into slag, sending burning soldiers running like human torches. For a brief moment demons and angels completely forgot each other, united against this new threat, but that didn't last long.

Armageddon turned into an three-way battle, even as Gabriel realized that someone or something was moving toward the Repository of Souls.

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500 Slayers, only two of them alive, moved toward the steel city of Heaven. Several hundred Vampires were by their side, natural enemies putting their enmities to rest in the face of Armageddon. They were lead by the Archangel Raphael, and descended upon the pearly gates like a plague of locusts.

Uriel, who guarded the Pearly Gates even now, was taken completely by surprise. He had only seen his brother, had kept his eyes on the battle taking place below, never even considered the material creatures a threat until they opened fire on him.

His giant frame was torn to pieces in a hail of enchanted bullets, blown apart by grenades that unleashed spells of fire. The Slayers, no less real in this place than any of their physical allies, assaulted the gates even before Uriel fell to his knees, tearing away at it with weapons that were as corporeal as Heaven itself, yet hailed only from their imagination.

Raphael spared but a sad glance at his fallen brother. He hadn't wanted any of this, but there was no way back now. The Pearly Gates broke under the onslaught of hundreds of spirits that didn't put one ounce of belief into Christianity and the few angels that had remained behind to guard the Repository were treated to a sight such as even they had never seen.

An army of humans and spirits that surged toward them through the shattered gates.

Buffy stood at the center of the carnage, flanked by Raphael, Faith, and Kendra. The Repository loomed before them, their objective already in sight, and she drowned herself in what she had dubbed Slayer-mode. Instincts took over, the world around her reduced to allies and enemies, the latter but targets for her to pick off one by one. Angels fell by her side in droves, struck down by her anger, and they moved forward.

"Press the attack!" She heard Luke yell at his troops. "We are almost through!"

There was a defensive line of angels in front of them and hundreds of Slayers crashed into them, breaking them apart in a second. Angelic flesh parted beneath their weapons every bit as easily as human flesh would, angels screamed as they died. More than one Slayer paid for this attack as flaming swords cleaved their ethereal forms in two, sending them screaming into whatever place might await dying souls.

Buffy didn't care, not now. Later she would weep for her lost sisters, but not right now.

"We have almost reached the Repository," Raphael said at her side, "I never thought it was possible to do this, but ..."

His words cut off as something exploded from his chest. Buffy started back, radiant blood spattering her all over. Raphael convulsed as the sword imbedded in his body was savagely twisted, a scream tearing from his lips.

"TRAITOR!" Gabriel thundered, tearing her sword free from her brother's flesh. "Leading our enemies right into the heart of Heaven. Not even Lucifer dared such as this."

Raphael fell to his knees, his wings withering away to nothing. His eyes, not quite empty anymore, swiveled towards Buffy, expressing worlds of sorrow and pain. Then he fell over and moved no more.

"You will all die!" Gabriel thundered. She was dressed in black battle armor, her raven wings spread, her entire form stained with the blood of a thousand slain enemies. The horned head she wore around her neck bounced from her chest plate, while her empty eyes blazed with fury.

"Take her!" Luke screamed, dozens of Vampires opening fire.

The bullets evaporated before they could even reach her. Gabriel struck out with her flaming sword and a hundred Vampires fell into ashes were they stood. Slayers attacked her, but were brushed away like gnats. With a gesture Gabriel caused the Repository itself to strike out, a flaring light sucking the souls of Buffy's sister into the black glass tower as they screamed helplessly.

Buffy saw their attack falling apart right before her eyes and wanted to do something, anything. She began to move, to attack.

Gabriel didn't leave her the chance. Her sword was like a living thing, moving faster than thought, and Buffy didn't even have time to scream as its steel length buried itself in her heart.

The world seemed to come to a stop, Buffy staring directly into the empty orbs of her opposite. Gabriel was nothing but death and destruction personified. Raphael had been created to heal, which had given him just enough sense of empathy with humanity to go past his own limitations. Gabriel had no such thing. She was Death and had come to claim Buffy.

"Thus is the fate of enemies of Heaven!" Gabriel ripped the sword free of her body in a shower of crimson. Buffy fell to the floor, all strength gone, her ears filled with the stillness of her heart as her life's blood ran away from her. The bond was wide open and she could hear Angel scream as her pain hit him.

She tried to shield him somehow, tried to close the bond before it could drag him down into the grave along with her. She couldn't allow Angel to die as well. He was leading the attack on Hell at this moment, the universe depended on him to succeed.

But the bond couldn't be closed. None of what was happening all around them mattered anymore. She was dying and he would die with her. They had failed.

Buffy was on the floor, watching her blood as it ran away across the black marble of Heaven's street, when she felt a hand touch her.

"It mustn't end this way!" Raphael's voice whispered in her ear. "We never wanted this. You have to stop it!"

She wanted to tell him that she couldn't do anything anymore, that she was already as good as dead, but once again things moved too fast for her as Raphael's hand squeezed hers.

Without warning a searing pain shot through Buffy's veins, white-hot metal filling up her body from head to toe. She surged up to her knees, convulsing, as her limbs trembled and her flesh knitted back together in the space of a heartbeat. A heartbeat that returned to her, filling her body with its sweet music.

"I heal!" She heard Raphael whisper past the thundering in her ears. "It's what I was created to do. All I ever wanted to do."

Even as he said it, though, Buffy knew that he was doing more than that. She had never felt so strong, so very much alive before. Power filled her every cell, a power as white and searing as the sun itself. New agony ripped through her back as she felt her skin part; something tore free from her flesh and unfolded with a murmur like beautiful music.

Raphael's sword had fallen to the floor beside him, his body now cold and lifeless. Buffy bent down to pick up the weapon, which flared to life in her hands.

"All enemies of Heaven die!" Gabriel screamed as she tore into the remains of the attackers, Vampires and Slayers helpless before her. Faith was desperately trying to restore some order to the attack, tried to think of something that would help them overcome this force of nature they were facing.

She didn't have to.

"I wouldn't count on that!" The voice made Gabriel freeze. The enemies that surrounded her where now staring past her, looking wide-eyed at something closing in from behind.

Gabriel turned around and stared as well.

"I don't know about you," Buffy said, flaming sword in hand, ebony wings spreading from her back, "but I'm feeling pretty damn powerful."

Go to Part 24