"Something Strange This Way Comes…"

By Shadow Master

(BtVS/Doctor Strange/DC Universe Animated Original Movie Universe)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing that at any point in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy my work. Therefore I would appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me because I can promise you that I am nowhere near rich enough for it to be worth it for you in the end.

Note: Timeline wise I'm forced to use the ever available Halloween episode because I can think of no other way to get the desired variables into place. For the DC Universe Animated Original Movie Universe this would happen somewhere between 'Justice League: War' and 'Justice League Dark'. Naturally some of the technologies shown in the DC films will conflict with the level of tech shown in 'Buffy The Vampire Slayer' so just presume that this is an AU BtVS universe where such technologies shown in the DC movies was invented sooner.

Note: 2: After watching all of the DC Universe Animated Original Movies I've seen that there is barely any timeline continuity if you watch all of them in the order they were released. For one thing in 'Justice League: War' you get the feeling that the heroes are just starting out and haven't yet earned the trust of the people. However if you leap over to the Batman movies of this universe you see Nightwing, Damian Wayne and others who should be years in the future. Therefore while I will be doing my best to stick with how things went in the movies I will be making changes in order to clean up timeline/continuity errors. That means that Dick Grayson at best will still be Robin when/if he makes an appearance, the Teen Titans will likely feature a lineup from the old 80's comics (Robin, Wonder Girl/Donna Troy, Aqualad Garth, Beast Boy, Kid Flash Wally West, etc) and other similar changes.

Note 3: I got the urge to do this after buying and watching the newest DC cartoon movie 'Justice League Dark'. I like it and wondered what'd happen if I brought a sorcerer from Marvel Comics into that world.

Shall we find out?

Something Strange This Way Comes…

Two Days to Halloween

Xander's POV

"So what're you going to dress up as?" Willow asked as they left the school grounds at the end of the day.

"I don't know. I'll think of something," he replied even as they reached the sidewalk.

The truth of the matter was that he had nothing at home that could be used to make a costume without making it painfully obvious that he was barely above the poverty line in terms of funds. His parents, if you could call them that, didn't give him anything resembling an allowance, which meant all he could do was search the couch, skim some change off of the booze runs he was sent on and what he could get from the local bottle depot. Most of the time that was just enough to feed his Twinkie habit but, if he saved long enough, he could get some new clothes from the local thrift store that weren't too outdated. Most of what he'd saved over the last five years was meant to go towards the road trip he planned on taking after graduation.

He wasn't about to tap into his savings just because he'd gotten press ganged into Snyder's Halloween chaperoning job.

Still, that left him with looking for cheap odds and ends that he could slap together into a feasible costume that'd look at least somewhat cool. He knew that there was an army surplus store that handed out old army fatigues for just a little more than the price of a bottle of soda. He figured that if he could get a toy gun from a store selling Halloween costumes that'd make for a decent soldier costume. Still, even as he thought so, a pang of wanting echoed within him, a wanting to be something more impressive, but it was nothing new. Ever since Tony had lost his third job in twice as many months he'd been forced to be content with whatever scraps of happiness he could get and push on through when luck didn't turn his way.

If karma really was something real then it was looking like he'd have one helluva retirement.

"See you later, Xander," Willow said as she turned in the direction of her house and walked away.

As he walked down the sidewalk to the place where he slept but did not call home, he spotted something that caught his attention. Off in the part of the parking lot where the faculty members parked he saw Giles signing for something and a delivery guy unloading some boxes from a delivery van. The boxes were a mix of cardboard and metal ones but all of them looked rather heavy. G-Man might not be ENTIRELY over the hill when it came to fighting demons but he was no spring chicken either. Deciding that this was as good an excuse as any for him to stay away from the house, he changed course.

"Yes, that should do it," Giles said, handing the clipboard with the paper on it back to the delivery guy.

"Thanks. Have a nice day," the delivery guy said before heading for the driver's side of the van.

"Need any help, G-Man?" he asked, walking up to the Brit. "Looks like you got a ton of stuff to carry in."

"Yes. The latest consignment of resources from the Council for what their seers believe might be coming to the Hellmouth next," Giles replied as he reached down for a cardboard box. "Books, talismans, scrolls and ingredients. I'll likely be spending the next week cataloguing everything as well as finding places to hide them so that Principal Snyder cannot locate them."

"I'll help you get the stuff in." he said, picking up one of the heavier looking metal boxes. "Don't want you to throw your back out."

"I am hardly that old, Xander, but I thank you for the help nonetheless," Giles said with his usual dry tone.

With both of their arms full they went back into the school and deposited their loads on the library table before going back for the rest. It took a little over ten minutes to get everything in and at once Giles went to work unpacking the various items, starting with the metal box. Inside were some books, some smaller metal boxes with odd looking locks on them… and some kind of amulet that had a design that looked like it'd been decided by committee. Somewhat oval shaped with small metal square plates linked together for hanging around a neck instead of a gold, brass or silver chain, it definitely won an award for originality.

"What's this, Giles?" he asked, holding up the item for the Watcher to see.

"What…oh…it's a talisman for granting the user access to the Sight," Giles replied, glancing in the item's direction.

"The what now?" he asked, not sure if he'd heard the man correctly.

"The Sight. It's a mystical ability that allows a person to perceive supernatural energy ranging from demonic to magical the same way you perceive light or smoke," Giles replied even as he set some books on the table. "It is useful in perceiving forces invisible to the naked eye as well as deducing their nature. They were created by a powerful Tibetan mystic over six hundred years ago."

"They?" he asked, catching the importance of the word.

"Yes. The mystic only created three, one for himself while the other two went to his apprentices, and to this day no one has been able to replicate his work," Giles replied, taking a closer look at the cover of a book. "It has been giving the Council's R&D division frothing fits trying, though. Rumor has it that there's a wager between the lot of them that the one who can pull it off gets an expensive bottle of black label liquor from each of them."

"How many people are in the division?" he asked out of curiosity.

"Thirty-seven last I checked," Giles replied, sounding a little amused. "Whoever wins is going to get himself bloody plastered. Or dead from alcohol poisoning."

He chuckled even as he looked the talisman over from all angles.

Then he had an epiphany.

"Hey Giles? Is this thing dangerous?" he asked, looking at the wise man.

"Only if the user is exposed to a surge of energy while using it. It would basically be the equivalent of wearing night vision goggles only for someone to turn on a flashlight in your face," Giles replied, not sounding worried.

"So someone couldn't, say… drop it and set off a magical explosion or something?" he asked, trying to make sure he wasn't setting himself up for something bad.

"Oh, no, no, the user must be a qualified mystic in order to even activate it," Giles replied, waving his hand dismissively. "Without the right activation chant as well as an arcane spark to get the ball rolling, it is little more than a paperweight."

"Then… could I… borrow it?" he asked, hoping that his idea would be allowed to come to life.

"Whatever for?" Giles asked, stopping his work for the moment.

"For Halloween. You might've heard how Snyder 'volunteered' some people to chaperone some kids around for two hours. Well, he got me, Willow and Buffy," he replied, laying out the important facts. "Thing is I don't have a lot of money to spend on a costume so I gotta grab what I can afford and come up with a costume."

"And you require the talisman because…?" Giles asked, apparently looking for more elaboration before giving consent.

"I thought I could use it for a kick ass magician outfit," he replied, revealing his idea to the man. "I figure with this around my neck, a cape and a few other things and I'll have a costume."

"I suppose it will be alright," Giles said after a moment's thought. "Pick it up before you go chaperoning and return it as soon as you're back. It might not be dangerous but it will be my head if you lose it."

"Don't worry. Won't leave my neck the entire night," he promised, making a mental note in stone to keep an eye on the talisman thoroughly.

"Then I wish you the best of luck in putting together your costume," Giles said before returning to his work.

He stayed to help for another hour before heading home and luckily his parents were already unconscious from their overindulgence in alcohol. What a waste. The things he'd seen since finding out the supernatural was fact rather than fiction were more than enough to drive most people to drink, but not him. He'd just kept soldiering on. If he could face off against demons, vampires and the forces of darkness without going anywhere near so much as a can of beer, they should be able to endure the usual human troubles without buying out most of the liquor at the local store. With a sneer of contempt he went up to his room and locked the door behind him. It'd give him a few seconds of lead time if Tony came calling so he could get out the window and around the corner before Tony could lay eyes on him.

Okay. So I've got a magical looking amulet that's actually magical and I'm pretty sure I can find something that can pass for a cape, he thought as he sat on his bed. What else do magicians wear?

Thinking up all the magicians he knew of, the ones that came to mind first were David Copperfield and Siegfried & Roy. One of the things they often wore on stage were big, poofy shirts, like the kind you'd see swashbuckler's would wear in old pirate movies. They looked a little gay to him but he'd just make sure that they were as minimally poofy as he could find and maybe a darker color so it wouldn't be as noticeable. Some simple black pants would be good enough, along with some dress shoes. Put them all together with the rest and in his mind it looked to be quite a good costume not to mention enough for the job that lay ahead of him.

He just hoped that this turned out to be one of his better ideas and not one of his bad ones.

Ethan's Costume Shop

Halloween Night

Xander's POV

Okay, so I got the shirt, the pants and the shoes, he thought as he looked about the store. But nothing I tried to use as a cape looked right. Tying a bed sheet around my neck would just make me look like a kid.

He needed something more professional looking and hopefully he'd find it here.

Trying his best to ignore Buffy as she cooed over some fluffy and frilly dress that looked to be more than a century out of date, he let his eyes drift in search of the perfect cape. There were plenty of Dracula capes as well as some superhero capes but he'd die before he wore the former and the latter had symbols on them. Casually walking down the aisle, he tried to find something that said 'magic' but also wasn't so flashy that it could be mistaken for circus material. Worst of all was the fact that the capes weren't all in one section but rather mixed in with the different genre of costumes, so he couldn't just quickly go through them all. Time passed but, when he looked at his watch, he saw that they had a little over an hour before herr Snyder had said to be at the school.

"Something troubling you, lad?" a voice asked, startling him out of his thoughts and causing him to jump out of fright.

"YIPES! Don't DO that!" he said, turning around to see a dark haired man old enough to be his uncle. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry. Old habits die hard," the man said with a rehearsed smile. "Now, is there something I can help you with?"

"Not unless you have more capes stored out back," he replied, calming down a bit. "I've got most of what I need for a magician costume but none of the capes I've seen look right."

"Yes, well, I see it as a sign of the times that magicians and sorcerers are no longer 'cool' enough to be the costume of choice on Halloween," the man said, showing his disapproval. "Not with superheroes and other mass media drivel."

"So you got anything else out back?" he asked, hoping that he wouldn't have to make do with something else.

"Hmmmm… perhaps. There was one box extra that came with the costumes that I didn't put out," the man said, scratching his chin somewhat. "I'd only planned on putting the contents on the shelf if I started to run dry out here. Give me a moment and I'll see if I can find anything."

Nodding, he watched as the man walked to the curtained off room to the rear of the main store area before letting his attention flutter from place to place, seeking distraction. Motion of approach caught his eye and he turned to watch Buffy and Willow walking up to him, costumes in their arms.

"You find anything, Xander?" Buffy asked, holding the dress in her arms.

"Maybe. One of the guys that works here is going to check out back," he replied, trying to sound more optimistic than he really was. "I see you guys found costumes."

"Yep! A time honored classic!" Willow declared proudly, holding up a packaged ghost costume.

Looks like another strike out, he thought with a sigh, remembering Halloweens past. Guess Buffy being around hasn't been enough for her to try something better.

"Not as classic but definitely the costume for me," Buffy said, holding up the fluffy dressed she'd been admiring earlier. "Angel's gonna love it!"

Figured.

While he'd been entertaining the possibility that the Slayer would choose a costume based on her own personal likes and imagination, it looked like Deadboy had won again. It pissed the hell out of him that she preferred a corpse, A VAMPIRE, as her boyfriend instead of a living human teenage male. Oh, her little naughty dance at the beginning of the school year had pretty much run a metaphorical dagger through the heart of his own romantic feelings for her but he still cared for her as a friend. Didn't she see that a relationship with Angel was doomed to failure? He'd outlive her by centuries so long as he had a steady supply of blood while she'd grow old and die so long as something didn't kill her first. He couldn't give her children, couldn't go out in the sun AND could be host to god knew how many diseases that thrived in dead human bodies. But all she and Willow saw was how 'romantic' the whole star-crossed lovers thing was, along with how well they fought together.

Never mind the fact that Angel had been willing to sit on his ass and let Buffy die just because of some prophecy!

With a mental sigh he let his anger go, knowing that any attempt by him to make the two girls wake up to the realities of the relationship would only get him called 'jealous' by both of them.

"Well, I'm gonna keep what I'm dressing up as until later," he said, deciding to keep the truth a secret. "You'll see at the school when we pick up our brat packs."

"Sounds like fun," Buffy said before turning her head. "Looks like he found something."

Turning, he watched as the man he'd been talking too came out carrying a wardrobe bag like the one Tony's formal suit was gathering dust in.

"Well, it took some doing but I managed to find something I think you'll like," the man said as he partially unzipped the bag. "What do you think?"

Stepping into his friends' line of sight so that they wouldn't get a peek, he pulled aside the opening in the bag. Inside there was indeed a cape and it was a dark crimson color but it also had a golden clasp in front to keep it on the wearer, with a gold with black embroidery pattern along the edges. All in all, the cape didn't look all that flashy and, if he was right, it would only drop from his shoulders to just above his ankles once he put it on. There was just one thing he wasn't sure about.

"What do you think? Is the flaring at the top too much?" he asked the guy since he was pretty sure the man had seen it before bringing it out.

"Well, given your desired costume I think a little flamboyancy is required," the man replied, sounding oddly honest. "Besides which, it'd look too much like a bed sheet if you took it off."

Point.

"How much for it then?" he asked, hoping it wasn't more than he had on him at the moment.

"I'll tell you what, young man," the guy said as he zipped the wardrobe bag back up. "In the spirit of the evening to come and the wonderful costume your blonde friend chose, I'm willing to give it to you for HALF of whatever you have on you."

A part of him flared in warning at such a generous offer but sadly that part was quickly gagged, tied up and shoved into the nearest mental closet by the rest of him. It was a good cape and, with the money he'd have left, he'd be able to buy an extra bag of Halloween treats after the brats were dealt with, so it was too nice a deal to pass up.

"Deal!" he said fishing the money out of his pocket before counting out half and turning it over to the man.

"Then here is the last piece of your costume, young man," the store employee said, passing him the wardrobe bag. "I hope it makes your costume everything you hoped it would be."

"See you guys at school!" he said as he began to make his way towards the entrance. "I gotta get the rest of the stuff!"

"Sure! See you there!" Buffy yelled at him as he turned away from his two friends.

A few seconds later he was outside and moving at a little below a jog to get back to his house so he could grab it and then get to the school. Sure, he'd originally planned on spinning by Buffy's place so that they could all walk to their forced chaperoning together but he still had to pick up the talisman thing from Giles at the library. Considering the time that was left before Snyder's deadline, he didn't have the time to go home, go to the school, go to Buffy's and then come back to the school. Better to sprint home, grab the rest of his costume and then sprint to the school, where he could get dressed in G-Man's office. Doing it that way he'd stand the best chance of being able to make it to the student lounge in time for Snyder's deadline.

Then again, knowing the troll, he'd probably pull some hidden fine print out of his ass even if they made the four o'clock deadline just to prove how much of a bastard he could be.

Sunnydale High School

Student Lounge, Buffy's POV

"Where is he?" Willow asked, looking one way and then the other for her best friend.

"He'll be here," she said, keeping an eye out for Snyder in case she had to take a stab at the whole 'I just saw him a minute ago' excuse.

Not that it'd fly with Snyder but she still owed it to her best friend to try.

It'd taken a little while but she finally understood and felt a little guilty for what she'd done to him during lunch. At the time it'd seemed like the most natural thing, a friend was in trouble so she helped, but now she realized that by not letting him handle it himself she made him look weak in front of everyone else. If there was one thing that she remembered about Hemery it was that the weak made juicy targets for the powerful cliques in the high school, mostly because they were easily intimidated, manipulated and terrorized without fear of consequences. As the most popular and arguably the most powerful students in the school, the faculty knew they'd get in more trouble for causing trouble for the VIPs of the student body than the nobodies. As long as the various cliques didn't do anything to bring the cops in, they were pretty much given free reign to manage their own affairs.

She thought it wasn't as bad in Sunnydale High School, what with it not being LA, but apparently even if it wasn't it was still bad enough to hurt Xander.

Right then and there she'd made a promise not to interfere if the scene repeated itself in the future and to think of a way to make it up to him later. She wasn't do anything crazy like go out on a date with him or dress up in some spandex outfit next Halloween, but she would offer to pay for a few boxes of Twinkies and maybe have her mom make him a batch of her famous brownies. She figured that'd be enough to get him to not only forgive her but also get her back into his good books.

"There he is!" Willow exclaimed, causing her to look.

When she picked Xander out of the crowd she wasn't sure what to make of his costume. A red and gold cape, a dark blue poet shirt, black pants and some kind of gold medallion that probably went out of style in the middle ages. Altogether it was definitely an original costume but it also made it hard to figure out just what her only guy friend was pretending to be.

"Made it! And with a whole two minutes to spare!" Xander said, looking both triumphant and relieved.

"Looks like neither of us are going to get our heads put on the chopping block tonight," she said, grinning at her friend's emotive declaration. "Nice costume but… what is it exactly? I can't figure out who or what you're trying to be."

"I'm a magician, though I haven't quite decided if I'm a stage magician or more like Merlin," he replied, letting the cape flare out a bit. "Probably the latter since it'd be cooler to be like Arthur's right hand man."

With that bit of information she gave his costume a second look and had to admit that he did look like a lot of the old style magicians you'd see in Hollywood movies. No stars or crescent moons woven into the cape, or anywhere else for that matter, but that was probably a good thing since such decorations would probably only get him picked on more.

"Alright, you reprobates, listen up! You will approach the table one at a time and I will assign you your group of children," Snyder said loud enough so that everyone could hear him. "You will not speak with them in any way aside from telling them to follow you and to get moving! I don't want any of your slacker tendencies to rub off on them."

No. Instead you want them to think everyone older than them doesn't care or will be mean to them for no reason, she thought, snarking in her head since saying anything out loud would only make things harder.

Like kids being led to the hangman's noose they all went up one by one to get their group of kids and, once assigned, the forced chaperoner led the group out of the school to the waiting streets outside. It was a few minutes before she got her chance but when she saw the adorable group of five that she'd be leading she bent over to welcome them, only to hear a harsh cough from Snyder.

"No talking," Snyder reminded her with a stern 'do not defy me' look on his face.

Keeping the sour look on her face to a minimum, she gestured for the kids to follow her before heading for the exit, wanting to get as far from Snyder as she could. Once the kids got caught up with trick or treating she could grumble to herself and vent her displeasure at the principal since, as the Slayer, she wasn't permitted to kill him like she SO wanted to.

Heading in the direction of the main residential area of Sunnydale, she watched the kids, both her own as well as those whose parents were escorting them about, running about in their quest for candy. She remembered when she was that young and all Halloween meant for her was a chance to dress up in something pretty and get a lot of candy without her parents holding her back. By the end of the night she'd usually have managed to fill three pillow cases worth of candy while consuming a fair bit of it before going off to bed.

Those were simpler times.

Back then she believed her parents when they told her that monsters didn't exist.

She believed that the meanest thing a person could do to her was ruin her prettiest dress.

Now? Now she couldn't help but look about as she escorted the kids, keeping an eye on all the alleyways while keeping her eyes peeled for anything Hellmouthy. She knew that Giles had said that demons took the night off but she couldn't help but wonder if tonight might be the one exception. Spike was out there, after all, and he didn't strike her as the type to adhere to traditions of any sort unless they were fun somehow. Indeed, according to the word on the street, Spike had killed The Anointed One not long after arriving in Sunnydale and had successfully taken control of the vamps, killing any who didn't follow orders. A vampire like that would be just the type to throw out the 'stay indoors' policy most demons had when it came to Halloween.

She'd been tempted at home to try and slide a few vamp killing tools into hiding places throughout her outfit but had thrust the idea aside. This was the one night a year when she could forget about being the Slayer, forget about her VERY limited lifespan, and just be an ordinary girl looking to impress her boyfriend.

And if any demon or vamp tried to ruin that, she'd have them begging for mercy before the end!

Just you wait and see!

Minutes ticked by and things proceeded the way they usually did and had in countless other realities. Indeed, for the august body known as The Powers That Be had used their divine given powers of precognition to peer into future and examine all possible futures. All the ones determined to be more than thirty-five percent likely showed a minor period of chaos aboard the Hellmouth but no effects lasting for more than a month or two. More important than that, all the key players that they'd need for the next couple of years made it through the chaos without any harm coming to them, either physically or mentally.

So imagine their surprise when, upon activation of the spell, they felt a sizeable tremor echo throughout the higher planes of existence that had not been present in any of their peeks at the future.

Immediately they worked to trace the quake back to its source and, when they finished, they had to do the higher being equivalent of an exasperated sigh and rolling their eyes.

HE was responsible.

Alexander LaVelle Harris.

The young man had been a mere footnote, a youth who thought that all it took to fight demons was willpower, but when he thwarted their prophecy concerning Slayer Summers he became something more. Since then they'd kept a close watch on the mortal even as they strove to adjust their future plans to accommodate the still living Buffy Anne Summers. To their eyes he was just another mortal, brave but no more remarkable than any other human, but this only annoyed them as they failed to come up with a valid explanation for how he'd been able to defy prophecy.

Now it looked as though the young man might wind up becoming an even larger stone to be tossed into the pond of the mortal realm.

"What is happening to him?" the head of the European division asked even as something akin to a holographic projection appeared before them.

"According to these readings he is being transformed," the being in charge of North America replied even as an effort was made to gain more details. "It looks as though someone has invoked Janus' All Hallows Eve spell and whomever Harris chose to dress up as is decidedly more powerful than expected."

"Impossible!" the being in charge of the Asian branch declared dismissively. "That spell might give the wearer the mind of costume but the powers are a mere shadow of what the genuine article is depicted as possessing. It can't explain what we're seeing here."

"True. Then let us look deeper," the North American Leader said as the image before they took on a different appearance.

It still showed Alexander Harris but this time it showed the mortal purely in terms of the various forms of energy both within and surrounding him. It was then that they saw the truth and it surprised them in a way that they never thought they could be surprised. The power they were seeing wasn't coming from Janus but rather from within the young man himself. Based on what he could see, the spell was merely providing a blueprint, an arcane network of pathways, for the power coming off of the teenager. However they'd seen such blueprints in the past and they had always belonged to the most powerful of sorcerers or sorceresses.

"But he isn't of one of the empowered bloodlines," the Asian C.O. said, having trouble believing what was being shown. "We've been monitoring those since the beginning. We would have known if he was."

The empowered bloodlines were those that had consistently produced humans capable of great magic or, at the very least, had the potential to produce such a human. Whether they were homo sapien or homo magi, all who could potentially affect their plans or aid in bringing those same plans to fruition they were monitored. The strongest among them were utilized to handle threats that were just under that which would require divine intervention in order to resolve.

As a result of this monitoring, they knew without a doubt that Alexander Harris was not a member of the empowered bloodlines.

Yet…

"This may be a larger issue than we'd anticipated," the Euro-Leader said as the image projected before them split into two. "Two of the items he wears are changing and becoming more mystically powerful by the second. Then there is this."

Highlighting the desired image, the remaining two witnessed a location right at the edge of the Hellmouth's influence but it wasn't the location that was interesting but rather something else. Bit by bit something seemed to be coming into being but it was only when that something was half done that they recognized it as a large three story building.

"The House of Mystery? Or The House of Secrets?" the Asian Leader asked, finding a remarkable similarity between what they were seeing and how the named structures often manifested.

"Not likely. The former still recognizes that fool John Constantine as its caretaker and the latter is still tied to Abel," the North American Leader replied as the last bits of the house came into being. "However the similarities are rather striking."

"I don't like this," the European Head said, taking all the variables into account. "A troublemaker showing signs of high level magic, two objects gaining arcane potency usually reserved for items handed down to the heads of mystical families and now a house coming into existence from nothing. There is no way that this is all happening by chance. Someone planned this."

"Letting your paranoia get the better of you?" the North American leader asked rhetorically. "We know Wilkins isn't behind this because he would never tolerate such a rival. There is no one else in Sunnuydale that could be behind it for the same reason. As for someone from outside of Sunnydale… not impossible, but anyone investing in such an enterprise would not have hired Ethan Rayne for the task. The man loves his chaos far too much to adhere to any plan, no matter how 'motivated' he might've been by his employer."

"Whatever the cause, whoever might or might not be behind this, there is one fact that is undisputable: this will drastically affect our plans," the European Head stated with no room for discussion. "Even if he retains no knowledge after tonight, the mere existence of his arcane power will change things. The Watcher will almost certainly try to instruct him and that's assuming no other practitioner deduces enough to seek out Harris themselves. Even if the teenager manages to stay under the radar, the existence of a third House will not go unnoticed, especially if it contains anything of value."

"What do you propose?" the North American leader asked, sounding willing to let things go a bit further.

"Elimination of all anomalies under the emergency exception protocols," E.H. replied, resolve in every word. "The mortals need not be aware of it. It can be passed off as an unfortunate side effect of chaos magic. Such things do happen, after all."

For a time impossible to define nothing was said as the other two considered the course of action both on its merits and on its possible flaws. The emergency exception protocols were a safety measure against surprises that threatened the entire tapestry of the mortal realm but were only to be used when the standing orders of the Almighty stood in the way of saving it. In all the time of existence since it had been created, the protocols had only been utilized a handful of times and only as much as was needed in order to resolve the crisis. To invoke it now, to resolve the growing problem of Alexander Harris, was no easy thing to do and could not be made hastily.

"No," the Asian head said, breaking the silence.

"No," the North American head declared. "While the situation does warrant action, I do not believe it requires such severe action."

"You cannot be serious. We all know the damage that a single user of magic with this sort of power can cause," E.H. said, confused at how the other two could deny the necessity of emergency action. "The others are kept in check by the traditions, the dogma and the environments they were raised in. Harris only became aware of the supernatural a year and a half ago. If he is allowed to live with this amount of power unfettered, there's no telling the chaos he could create that would disrupt our plans."

"Indeed. If he is left to his own devices that is the likely outcome," N.A. said, conceding that point at least.

"But what if we didn't leave him to his own devices?" the Asian leader asked, sounding to be of a similar train of thought. "What if instead we send him a teacher? What if he is taught the ways of sorcery from the beginning? He could prove to be quite the asset."

"And this teacher would carefully plant ideas into his head that would bring him around to our way of thinking?" E.H. asked rhetorically as understanding began to take hold. "An intriguing idea to be sure but what about the likes of Richard Wilkins or Wolfram & Hart? They will sense his growing might and, if he fails to be swayed by their respective 'offers', they will almost certainly try to eliminate him."

"The latter can be kept in bay with a bit of pressure put on them and the former can be resolved as well," the Asian Leader said, not sounding concerned. "It is quite likely that whomever Harris is being transformed into will be skilled in the use of magic and the artifacts he wears. If pointed in the right direction, say city hall, the problem a year and a half into our future will be resolved for us."

"Assuming that whomever he turns into is skilled enough to defeat Wilkins," E.H. said, pointing out a wrinkle in the idea. "The warlock has managed to come to within a year of accomplishing what few have and without any mortal based practitioner being the wiser."

"Then let us see how the dice rolls," N.A. said, taking on a contemplative tone. "Allow the transformation to finish, nudge him towards Wilkins and then allow the fight to ensue. If he's the asset we wish him to be, he will succeed and our plans for him can proceed in earnest. If not… then he will be eliminated as you originally desired and we can see about getting the new House a suitable caretaker. Assuming it doesn't choose one of its own."

"Very well. Let's hope that we do not all come to regret this," N.H. said, nodding in agreement and giving his consent to the plan.

Streets of Sunnydale

"By Hoggoth! What has happened?" he asked as the chaos within his mind faded away to the ordered structure he'd mastered early in his training.

The last thing he remembered he was teleporting away from his secret meeting with Stark, Richards and the others regarding the Superhuman Registration Act. He'd been disgusted with the concept and warned that it would lead to heroes fighting each other to the death for what they believed to be right. After telling the two main supporters never to call on him again, he'd cast the teleportation spell only to wind up… wherever he was.

Almost immediately he sensed the overwhelming evil surrounding him, soaked into both the air and the ground, and almost instinctively raised his mental protections. While not as overwhelming as some of the more infernal dimensions he'd visited during the course of his career as Sorcerer Supreme, it was still potent enough to warrant serious caution.

Once he was sure that he would not be influenced either by the place or the beings inhabited it, he set to work attempting to see if more than just his location had changed. With how chaotic his mind had been moments ago, there was no way of knowing just how much time had passed. Anything could've been done to him and it would be careless to take any sort of action without first making sure that he was himself.

"By the Light of the All-Seeing Eye of Agamotto! Reveal to me that which is but should not be!" he intoned, framing the talisman with his fingers.

With the sound of moving metal, the arcane metal that made up the eye retracted unleashing the light within and revealing a human-like eye. However, as he knew all too well, the amulet was in fact crafted by one of the Vishantis and therefore was not crafted with human beings in mind. Regardless, it possessed great power and with it he examined himself for any signs of tampering whether it was physical, mental or spiritual. What he found surprised him because not only was he not in his own body but the Eye revealed that another soul was cohabitating his current vessel, though suppressed by what appeared to be the same magic that had brought him to this place. Was this a forced summoning? It would have taken someone of skill and power to take him so unawares.

What worried him though was the fact that the Eye was having little if any effect on the magic that was keeping him in a body that definitely wasn't his. Normally using it dispersed an enemy's spell upon contact, with only the most powerful ones requiring prolonged exposure to defeat. However, based on what he could see, while there was a reaction it was more akin to a flame being excited by a gentle breeze.

Odd, he thought as he released the energy for the spell allowing the eye to close. Perhaps in investigating this town I will learn why I was brought here and who may send me back.

"Xander… how… how did you do that?" a voice asked from behind him, causing him to turn around.

Standing a few feet away was a red haired girl dressed like some of the call girls he occasionally saw on the streets of New York. However, unlike those women, this teenage girl clearly was not used to wearing clothes she had on, indicating she'd only chosen to wear them recently. Regardless, he didn't know her and it would likely be best to correct any misunderstandings so that he could focus on matter of his being brought there.

"While I may be inhabiting Xander's body at the moment, young lady, I am not him," he replied, being polite yet honest. "My name is Stephen Strange."

"On, no! Not you, too!" the girl groaned, clearly not pleased by the turn of events.

"This has happened to others?" he asked, perceiving a potential source of information.

"Yeah. For some reason everyone's turning into their costumes," the girl replied, sounding unsettled by some of the things she saw. "Kids I was chaperoning had monster masks on them then all of a sudden they were monsters."

"A spell that makes people into that which they wish they were. A personification of 'be careful what you wish for'," he said as he considered the variables for such a spell.

Considering his current predicament and what the girl had said, it was likely that the costumes the people wore were the method by which the power was channeled. However, when he tried to determine what the purpose to such a spell could be, he fell short. Turning children into monsters would hardly prove useful unless they were of a breed that were deadly even in their early years, but most costumes were not specific when it came to monsters. Different colored skin, fangs and horns were the most common attributes, but having seen some examples in New York he knew that no costume manufacturer knew a thing about true demons and monsters. Add to that the fact that most children who went trick or treating dressed either as superheroes or ordinary people and any goal with ill intent would be thwarted.

A miscalculation, perhaps?

"AAAHHH!" came a scream of fright bringing him out of his thoughts.

"That's Buffy! We have to help her!" the girl said, sounding distinctly worried.

"Lead the way," he said as he ran after the girl, hoping that they would arrive in time to prevent injury or loss of life.

It didn't take them long to find 'Buffy' but when they did he had to wonder if she was in any real danger save from herself. Dressed in clothes at least two centuries old, the brunette girl hid behind a tree as the sole calmly running car sped by.

"A demon! A demon!" Buffy cried out, clearly frightened out of her mind.

"Buffy, are you alright?" the girl asked, not picking up on her friend's behavior. "Things have gotten really crazy here! People are turning into their costumes! What should we do?"

Unfortunately the fear looked to be too much for the brunette since she fainted less than two seconds later as her mind likely was unable to cope with her new situation.

"She couldn't have dressed up as Xena?" the girl asked with some exasperation.

"I take it she's not normally like this?" he asked just to be certain of his deductive reasoning.

"No. She's the Slayer," the girl replied, shaking her head. "She's part of this ancient bloodline of demon killers."

"Then perhaps one of her kin might be able to help us?" he suggested, thinking that such a skilled warrior could prove very helpful indeed.

"Not going to happen. There's only ever one Slayer at a time. When one dies, the next gets Called to replace her," the girl replied, revealing what she knew.

A possible spell of reincarnation? Or perhaps merely a mystical force that seeks out a new host? he thought, his mind unable to keep from proposing possible explanations. Still, no matter how impressive the girl might be, it does little good if she does not remember who she is.

Hearing growls that didn't belong to any animal he knew of, he did not think it would be wise for the three of them to remain on the streets. While normally he would have little trouble defending such a small group from all but the most serious threats, these were not normal circumstances. So long as he was inhabiting another's body, he could not risk exposing it unnecessary danger, especially since he didn't know the full extent of the power he had to work with. Even if this were a case of his astral form being in another's body, he would still be relying on the innate magic of his host body.

It was an unknown variable and not one he would like to test given present circumstances.

"We should get off the streets until we are better able to determine a course of action," he suggested even as he kept his eyes trained on the direction the growls were coming from.

"Buffy's place is this way! Follow me!" the girl said as she turned to run.

Scooping up Buffy in his arms, he followed the redhead but almost lost his stride when he watched her pass right through a parked car as though she were naught but a ghost. Phasing through matter was not an unfamiliar feat for him to either perform or witness but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what sort of costume the girl could've worn to gain such the ability.

It was a few minutes later that they arrived at a quaint two story home and, walking up the step, he watched the girl who was his guide phase right through the door before coming back out.

"Oops! I forgot you can't get through without the key," the girl said before casting her gaze to a flower pot close to the door. "Missus Summers' spare key should be under that pot."

For a moment he considered putting 'Buffy' down and getting they key but then he decided that would take too much time, so he decided to test his host body's magic capacity by performing simple levitation. Depending on how much effort he had to exert he would gain a better understanding of what his temporary limits would be and then act accordingly. Following the steps as he'd been taught by the Ancient One so long ago, he was pleased to find out that it only took a little more effort than he recalled in order to raise the flower pot off the ground. Then, with a little deft manipulation, he picked up the key revealed to be beneath before setting the pot back on the deck, before calling the key to his open hand.

While by no means a sign that he could safely perform some of his more advanced spells, it did mean that he could make further attempts with spells only somewhat stronger than levitation.

With the turn of the key and then the turn of the doorknob he entered the house to find much what he'd come to expect from visiting the houses of other middle class family homes; pictures of family and of friends in a variety of different settings forever preserving a happy moment for future reminiscing. He could see quite a few examples to support the fact that "Buffy' did not normally act like someone who was afraid of their own shadow. Indeed, she looked like many of the teenage girls he'd seen walking down the street outside the Sanctum Sanctorum. Still, a drastic alteration of memory and personality was not too worrisome, especially since he figured it was only temporary.

Then he passed by a mirror and got a good look at his reflection.

By the Vishanti! How can this be?

As soon as he'd learned that he was not in his own body but rather the body of someone who'd dressed up to look like him, he'd been prepared to look in a reflective surface and see an unfamiliar face. However the face he now beheld was not as different from the one he'd seen in the mirror all his life as he'd been expecting. Indeed he could spot several facial features that he'd been told as a child was common to the Strange bloodline, making him wonder who precisely he was possessing.

"Is something wrong?" the girl asked, having noticed his sudden stop.

"If I might ask, young lady… just what is the name of the person whose body I inhabit?" he asked, hoping that with that piece of information he could come up with an explanation.

"His name's Xander Harris. He's my best friend," the girl replied innocently, not seeing the harm of it.

"Xander… I presume that name is short for Alexander?" he asked in order to gain a better understanding of the name.

A nod confirmed it.

Alexander Harris.

It was not a name he knew but then he was not an avid researcher of the Strange family tree, so it was possible that he was in fact inhabiting the body of a distant relation.

An odd coincidence if coincidence it truly was.

Laying Buffy on the nearby couch, he spotted a picture of the three of them standing on a nearby table. Alexander Harris, Buffy and the girl who'd guided them to this place of sanctuary. They appeared to be good friends and, if Buffy was truly some sort of chosen warrior, then Alexander and the girl had to be VERY good friends. Most people, when confronted with the darker aspects of the world, could not handle it and retreated back to what they considered 'normal' since with it came comprehension and control. To not turn away but rather aid in the combatting evil spoke of much bravery and friendship.

"AAAHHH!" came a scream from outside the house.

"That's Cordelia! We have to help her!" the girl said, rushing to the window to look outside.

Given that the redhead was intangible and Buffy was unconscious, that left only him to go to 'Cordelia's' rescue. Briskly walking towards the door, he opened it and beheld an odd sight if ever there was one. Running down the street as swiftly as she could was a brunette woman in a spotted skintight bodysuit and pursuing her was something that sort of reminded him of the Alpha Flight member Sasquatch. However the feral behavior and the lack of humanity it exhibited had him thinking that, if someone had dressed up as the hero, they'd gotten the something wrong.

Raising both his hands, he grasped the hairy giant magically with his left hand while his right gently lifted the fleeing girl off the ground. One he sent flying into some bushes while the other he brought to the door of the house as swiftly as he could without adding to her fear.

"Don't worry. You're safe now," he said as he gestured for her to enter the house.

"Yeah, thanks to you! Imagine my surprise, dweeb!" the girl snapped as she strode into the house.

Reminds me of some of the more entitled young ladies I encountered at hospital fundraising events, he thought dryly as he followed her in and closed the door behind him. Beautiful to be certain but with personalities that could peel paint.

"Okay, your name is Cordelia, you're not a cat, you're in high school, and we're your friends. Well, sort of," the girl said, no doubt under the assumption that like him the cat-girl didn't remember who she truly was.

"That's nice, Willow. And you went mental when?" Cordelia asked with the same attitude as before.

"You know us?" Willow asked, surprised at this fact.

"Yeah. Lucky me. What's with the name game?" Cordelia asked, sounding irritated and impatient.

"A lot's going on," Willow said as she tried to figure out her next move.

"No kidding. I was just attacked by Jo-Jo the Dog-Faced Boy. Look at my costume!" Cordelia replied, pointing at a particularly large tear. "Do you really think that Partytown's gonna give me my deposit back? Not on the likely."

"Okay. You guys stay here while I get some help. If something tries to get in, just fight it off," Willow said as she began to walk towards a wall.

"You are expecting trouble?" he asked, wanting to know what else besides the odd transformed trick or treater could threaten them.

"This is Sunnydale. It's on top of a Hellmouth," Willow replied as she got closer to the wall. "Always expect trouble."

With that the girl passed through the wall, vanishing from sight, leaving just him, Cordelia and the still unconscious Buffy in the room.

"Who died and made her the boss?" Cordelia asked, sounding affronted that someone would order her around.

"Hopefully no one. For the time being, though, I believe we should follow her instructions," he replied, facing the young woman. "With her present intangibility she is impossible to harm and seems to have a better grasp of the situation than either of us."

"Figures you'd side with her," Cordelia said dismissively. "She's probably the only reason you haven't repeated the first grade ten times."

This was not going to be one of his more pleasant adventures.

A Higher Plane

"This is not good enough," E.H. said as they viewed events proceeding much as they had in their various precognitive visions.

"I agree. The costume's personality is being too cautious with his power," the Asian leader said with dissatisfaction. "We will never see his true potential unless he gets serious."

"Don't worry. A moment is upon us that will give us the opening we require," N.A. Leader said, not sounding as worried as the other two.

Taking a closer look at the images being displayed, the two malcontents quickly realized what was about to happen. In the less worrisome paths the future took, the exposure of their champion Angel's vampiric nature frightens the noblewoman Slayer Summers had dressed up as into fleeing her house. In most cases this would lead the trio of Harris, Angel and Chase to leave in search of her before the chaos of the night caused her to be harmed or even killed. However, with a slight nudge from the three of them, the three could be convinced to split up in the interests of covering more ground, though it was likely that the Chase girl would refuse to be parted from the best source of protection. They could nudge things to make sure she'd choose Angel, giving the possessed Alexander Harris the opening needed to truly test his mettle.

"Indeed it would indeed be an opportune moment," the Asian leader said, considering the possibility. "The question would be how to lure him into the desired confrontation."

"An illusion. He will be searching for Slayer Summers with his eyes," E.H. said, producing a realistic hologram of the defiant Chosen One. "We place a hologram like this in just the right spot and then lead him on a merry chase to city hall. Once he's close enough Wilkins will sense his magic and be compelled to make his presence known. From there all it will take will be the mayor's lack of soul and dark magic to provoke a reaction."

"An interesting course of action and with a little care we might even arrange for William the Bloody to put in an appearance," the Asian Leader said, adding support to the plan.

"Hey! No reason to go that far!" N.A. leader said in opposition to the last part. "Wilkins' desire for Ascension is a dire threat that needs to be countered but William the Bloody is not. He likes things as they are. Besides which, if Slayer Summers continues to defy her Calling he will be a useful method of eliminating her so that a more compliant Slayer can be brought into the war."

"Point," the Asian Leader said, conceding that involving Spike would be a tad greedy.

"With the plan made let us wait for the opportunity to arrive so that we may enact it," the Asian Leader said with a tone of finality.

The Skies Above Sunnydale, Stephen Strange's POV

I hope Angel and Cordelia are okay, he thought as he flew over the town with his functional cloak of levitation.

He had been wary of splitting up but could not fault the concept of covering more ground.

Still he found it disturbing that some ancient spell caster would perform a curse so horrendous that it would tear a soul from heaven only to bond it with a vampire's body. While he had no love for the hellish creatures, if a soul was good enough that it had earned its place in the divine hereafter it was a crime and a sin to rip it away from its final rest. He'd been strongly tempted to simply slay the vampire right there, if only to free the human soul within from its damned living death. Only due to the numerous unknowns he found himself surrounded with did he stay his hand but, once Buffy was found and the spell that brought him there was canceled, he would be back.

Where are you, Buffy? he thought as he continued to fly over the chaotic town of Sunnydale.

Seeing such chaos and danger, the only thing that kept him from getting distracted was the fact that a large amount of those who had been changed by the spell that'd brought him here had dressed as heroes. None he recognized but all of them were working hard to protect those unable to protect themselves, making his required intervention minimal. Nevertheless he knew from experience that, unless they had a divine element to them, all heroes were capable of feeling the effects of exhaustion. If the chaos was not brought to an end quickly enough, fatigue would breed mistakes and in the hero game mistakes cost lives.

A flicker of rapid movement caught his eye and he focused that it was Buffy running for her life, though from what he could tell with no destination in mind. The revelation of Angel's true nature must've been truly frightening to her seventeenth century mentality but all she was doing was ensuring that she would be caught by surprise. Descending towards her, he found his direct line of sight blocked as she turned into an alleyway, so he picked up his pace in order to catch up to her so that he could calm her down. Entering the alley, he only laid eyes on her again in time to see her turn another corner, implying superhuman speed and lending credence to her supernatural title. More to the point, with the narrowness of the alleyway, he was forced to slow down in order to make the turns successfully, making the distance between him and Buffy grow faster than he'd like.

I need to get ahead of her, he thought as he rose back into the sky to allow more freedom of movement and consistent speed.

Using the last point of visual contact as a clue he soon reacquired her and immediately flew as swiftly as he could to overtake her so he could put an end to the chase. However this quickly proved futile since, while he was capable of reaching twenty-five miles per hour with the Cloak of Levitation, Buffy proved capable of capable of running much faster. Nevertheless he would maintain pursuit and hope that she found someplace she felt safe so he could convince her it was safer to remain with the group then being alone.

It was a few minutes later that he watched her go up the steps to what looked to be the town's city hall but then something happened that he hadn't anticipated.

She vanished in a twinkling of light very reminiscent of some teleportation spells that he knew but that made little sense. Aside from the superhuman speed, he had not witnessed any magic potential, so it was unlikely that she had performed the spell. That meant that something or someone in the city hall was responsible but it did not necessarily imply malicious intent. Nevertheless he needed to get Buffy back or at least ensure that she would be safe in city hall so that he could begin looking for the source of the costume tied spell. Landing in front of the doors, he reached out but, before his hand could make contact, dark magic leapt up to block him and threaten him with a sizeable arcane shock.

"Warded and by magic Mordo would likely employ," he said as he began to look for clues as to the nature of the spell. "That does not bode well for Buffy."

"Well, that's a bit hurtful. I assure you that city hall is completely safe should any citizen of Sunnydale choose to pay a visit," a voice said behind him, causing him to spin around. "Of course that's only during official business hours and with an appointment. It's only polite, after all.

Standing a dozen feet from the bottom of the steps was a man clad in an unremarkable suit, looking to be in his late forties to early fifties with a smile that instantly bred mistrust. He'd seen smiles like that on some of the more cunning and amoral beings during his career as Sorcerer Supreme, with none of them putting him at ease. It usually meant that either the being was supremely confident of their position or were more than a little unstable.

"Then am I to presume that you didn't just teleport a young woman into the building when she approached it?" he asked, deciding to judge the man's threat level by how he answered.

"Gosh no! To my knowledge Miss Summers is currently in the warehouse district, so whoever or whatever you saw was likely an illusion meant to lure you here," the man replied, sounding both amused and surprised. "I have to admit I'm a bit surprised that you didn't notice but then, since you are merely Mister Harris dressed up as a sorcerer, you don't have the experience to know better."

"Then I shall take my leave since there is nothing here I desire," he said, deciding that his efforts would be better put to use elsewhere.

However, before he could rise a few feet off of the ground, a small bolt of energy shot past his head, causing him to stop immediately.

"Leaving so soon? I was enjoying quite the relaxing evening at home when my wards notified me of your approach, forcing me to rush right over," the man said, some residual energy crackling around his finger. "I'm afraid I'm going to need a measure of compensation for your rude interruption."

"What would you propose?" he asked, hoping it was something simple.

"If you were to turn over to me your amulet and cape I would be willing to let this interruption fade into memory. My wards indicate they possess a great deal of power but defy classification," the man said, his creepy smile never leaving his face.

"I'm afraid that the Cloak of Levitation and the Eye of Agamotto are two items that are not available for use as compensation," he said, preparing for a possible attempt to take the item from him by force.

"I'm afraid I must insist," the man said as energy began crackling around his hands.

Lashing out with his telekinesis, he hoped to put a quick end to the fight by throwing the obvious warlock into something solid enough to knock him out. However, when he tried to gain a grip on the man, the telekinetic energy lost all solidity, making getting ahold of anything impossible. The man only smiled more sinisterly at this, proving that he was aware of what'd been attempted and what he'd consciously countered.

I guess it was too much to expect that I could end things so swiftly, he thought as he brought his hands up into the correct position. Forgive me, Alexander, but I fear the time has come for me to take a chance.

"If telekinesis does not work against you then perhaps this will," he said before drawing on what magic lay within. "I summon the Crimson Bands of Cyttorak to bind you and your magic!"

With crimson energy circular bands energy popped into existence around the warlock before contracting and pinning the man's arms and legs together. While the spell would not last long past his departure, it would hopefully enable him to regroup with the others and then terminate the spell that brought him here. Once that happened he imagined that the components of the costume Alexander wore would return to being powerless props, eliminating the city hall employee's need to acquire them. However, when the man began to chant in a guttural dialect he did not recognize, he was shocked to see the bands begin to crack little by little. Drawing on more power he tried to repair the damage but he was not swift enough and they shattered, releasing his opponent.

"An interesting spell and quite impressive. I'm surprised that Janus is pouring so much of his power into this little chaos spell," the man said as he made a show of straightening his suit. "Still, it means that this might just be fun after all. Let's see how you handle THIS!"

With that the man executed a quick chant before slapping his right hand to the stone walkway but this was only the prelude as multiple tendrils were formed from the stone. All at once they surged towards him and he took to the air to evade them on the off chance that their reach was proportional to the amount of mass they had to work with. Sadly either the stone walkway went further underground than it appeared to or the tendrils were drawing their mass from someplace else. They followed him through the air but a glance at his foe made it clear that he was directing the tendrils rather than them acting on their own initiative.

That was their weakness.

"The Flames of the Faltine will split your attention!" he fired as arcane circles manifested in front of his hands before crimson flames flew towards the warlock.

The warlock quickly ceased his manipulation of the tendrils in order to erect an arcane barrier but that is what he'd desired in the first place. True, he could simply keep up the bombardment of flames until the warlock could keep his barrier up no more but, without knowing Alexander's limits, that was a dangerous gambit. He needed to end the fight swiftly before his limited reserves became known to the warlock and so went with his next move.

"If the Flames of the Faltine are too hot for you, perhaps this will be more to your taste!" he declared, ending his barrage and changing the configuration of his fingers. "Let me cool you down with The Icy Tendrils of Ikthalon!"

Just as he'd predicted the dome that protected the warlock only extended from the ground up and so to circumvent this he ensured that the blue circle of the Faltine manifested just beneath his feet. Tentacles of living ice broke through the thin layer of stone that hid their origin point before wrapping around his foe from head to toe, generating ice to encapsulate the man. In a matter of seconds the ice was thick enough that no normal human would be able to break it using physical strength. He personally hoped that with the warlock immobilized from head to toe he would be unable to chant or use hand gestures to cast a spell to shatter the solidified water.

When an infernal light began to escape from the warlock's eyes, he stretched out with his mystic senses and what he felt had him rushing to add another layer of ice to the existing frigid.

It was too late; the warlock yelled and he let loose a wave of infernal energy that shattered his icy prison sending fragments everywhere.

It was in the seconds immediately afterwards that he saw distortions in the man's face and unmistakably inhuman eyes in his sockets. It didn't last for more than a few seconds but it did make one thing clear to him. Any magic that resulted in physically distorting the human form was potent indeed and often came with a terrible cost to the user. The fact that the anomalies were only temporary before the completely human appearance reasserted itself implied that either the warlock had a glamor present to keep the cost of his power hidden or he had some control over the infernal energy.

Control that slipped a little whenever the warlock was forced to strongly exert himself as he just did to break free of his icy prison

"Well now! I have to say that this is proving to be far more entertaining than I'd originally anticipated. It's been so long since I've been forced to get serious," the warlock said with his pleasant veneer only partially intact. "Unfortunately for you I have home field advantage!"

With that the warlock began chanting once more but it did not end as swiftly as it had the first time as he began to see growing spots of distortion on the walkway, on the grass, the fountain and even city hall itself. The purpose of these distortions became clear when appendages emerged from the distortions only to grasp the ground beyond the edges. Thenm with all the speed of a recent awakener, the limbs pulled the bodies they were attached to out of the distortions to reveal monsters of great horror and, he suspected, power. So unnatural were they that he could not make any comparisons between what he saw and any animal known to mankind. All he could say for certain was that all of them had the necessary teeth and claws to rend flesh with horrifying lethality.

"You see, over the years there have been many who have come to my town and tried to cause trouble. Now, most of them I simply kill and dispose of the bodies… those that don't rapidly decay on their own that at least," the warlock said as the four creatures emerged from the distortions. "However there are a few who proved to be a challenge for me, much like you have, and so I saw the wisdom of 'recruiting' them into my employ. Most of the time they're sealed away, held in stasis where they cannot discern the passage of time and only released under very special circumstances. In truth I had intended to keep them sealed away until next year when I would drain them of any valuable energy they possessed before proceeding to my lifetime objective. Now… now I guess letting them have one last bit of fun before taking them for all that they're worth would be the least courtesy I could do them."

When the four creatures finally left the distortions they all turned their gazes towards him.

And then they moved.

The first one lashed out, limbs possessing numerous articulation points, allowing it to instantly change course to follow him as he tried to evade it. No matter which direction he went the multiple points of articulation allowing the clawed hand to follow him without losing momentum. When a human tried to reach out to grab something but missed they often drew back their hand in order to try again but with this creature that wasn't necessary.

The second one made its abilities known when it vanished and suddenly he felt a presence behind him.

Instincts honed by numerous encounters with dangerous beings, he whirled around bring both hands up.

"The Seven Rings of Raggadorr denies your attack!" he declared, blossoming into existence blue rings that surrounded him from head to toe.

A heavy fist that bespoke of much power slammed into the rings and, while it did not shatter the protective rings that surrounded him, he was not completely unaffected. The energy from the blow had to go somewhere and it did by propelling him through the air like a baseball. Despite what some might think it wasn't that he couldn't have maintained his position but rather he chose not to. The amount of energy, the amount of focus that would've been required, would have fatigued him briefly and, without knowing his current body's limits, forcing immobility might've cost him dearly. Instead, once he bounced once off the side of city hall, reducing his momentum by quite a bit, he used the Cloak of Levitation to steady himself.

Only to have a multitude of tentacles wrap around the Seven Rings from multiple angles and begin to put increasing amounts of pressure on them.

It was astounding how much power the tentacles possessed and he knew without a doubt that, if he let the Seven Rings drop, he would be crushed soon after. Putting more energy into the protective spell he began to think of an energy efficient way of freeing himself from the third monster.

Finding none he went with the quickest option.

"The Demons of Denak will free me from your grasp!" he declared as he shifted the weight of the Seven Rings to his left hand while using the right to cast the new spell.

In the space of seconds the monster holding him was shredding to pieces by an unseen force, leaving a tableau more at home in a horror movie surrounding him. For a moment he thought that he had managed to gain some breathing room but then he was reminded that there had been four monsters released from the distortions, not three. Looking about he was only able to lay eyes on the fourth monster before it released a torrent of black flame at him, instinctively causing him to focus on maintaining the Seven Rings. It seemed to work at first but, when his eyes spied bits of the Rings being chipped away by the new attack, he was shocked that such a thing was possible. The spell drew upon the power of a god to perform its effects and only the most powerful or most skilled of sorcerers should've been able to damage it.

"Interesting ability Babel has, isn't it? I certainly thought so when he tried to usurp my dominance over the Hellmouth twenty years ago," the warlock said, sounding quite pleased. "His flames have the special ability to break down any magical spell they come into contact with, including yours, it seems. Still, I wouldn't be too hard on yourself since your blue rings are proving to be harder than most to destroy."

Knowing he needed time to regroup, he called upon his magic to render himself intangible before dropping into the ground below just as the Seven Rings spell was destroyed. Flying untouchable through the dirt, he tried to discern how he could finish this quicker because he was almost certain he was approaching the arcane limits of his host body's power. By his deductions Alexander was not a trained wizard, though what he'd experienced since finding himself in Sunnydale did indicate that he did have the potential to be one. A trained sorcerer would've taken precautions against possessions and likely would've sensed something of the costume he chose the moment he laid eyes on it. While he knew of several bloodlines where the members were born with a sizeable lake of arcane energy within them, it was still small compared to those who had trained for many a year. As such it was only a matter of time before he ran out of energy and was placed at this warlock's mercy.

He needed to take the problem out at the source.

Rising back up off the ground he said, "I call upon The Vapors of Valtorr to hide me from your sight!"

With speed that could not be considered natural a dense fog faded into existence, soon making it impossible to see anything with normal organic eyes. Fortunately for him he had other methods by which he could find his foe but first he had one more thing to do if he was to claim victory.

"May The Images of Ikthalon confuse my enemies," he muttered even as he made sure to scatter duplicate images of himself about the immediate area.

While normally he did like to declare the spell he was using a bit louder, it was not strictly speaking necessary so long as he channeled the needed magic into the spell.

His distractions completed, he sent a light wave of telekinesis out that should easily be mistaken as a light breeze but would also tell him where the Warlock currently stood. Gaining that information, he used the Cloak of Levitation to circle around behind the man even as the monster Babel's flames began to eat away at the fog as well as a few of his mystic duplicates. Fortunately the blasts were focused and being fired in random directions, proving that his opponents didn't know where he was at the moment.

"You continue to impress but it's only a matter of time before Babel finds you or breaks down enough of your spell to destroy it entirely," the warlock said, confirming his position audibly.

Not wanting to risk giving away his position by landing on the ground, he brought both hands up to frame his amulet before playing his trump card.

"You are too late as I invoke the Seven Suns of Cinnibus!" he declared before an energy blast leapt from the Eye of Agamotto, striking the Warlock from behind.

With the blast being as hot as seven suns, the warlock didn't last even a second before he was reduced to so much ash but, when a wave of weakness overcame him, he cancelled the spell.

It would appear that THIS is the limit of Alexander's power, he thought as he cancelled the remaining spells so they no longer drained the young man. Admirable, considering the level of power I was using.

Still, he had to be ready in case the death of their master only wound up making the remaining three monsters even MORE dangerous.

As the fog cleared and his duplicates winked out of existence, he beheld the three monsters and, if he was to compare their movements to a human, it looked as though they were waking up from something.

"What…where…?" the one with the multiple articulated limbs asked as it looked around.

"Sunnydale! Yes, I was here to kill that upstart Wilkins!" the one of surprising speed and power. "Where is he!?"

"Dead, unless he is craftier than I thought," he replied, causing the attention of the three to focus on him.

"You killed Wilkins?! Ridiculous! No whelp could slay that warlock where I failed," Babel said, sounding insulted that someone would even claim such a thing.

"Then explain why you three are now free of his control. Do you really think he would've released you of his own free will after enslaving you in the first place?" he asked, hoping that, by cementing his title as the killer of this Wilkins Warlock, it'd make the three less eager to attack.

"He has a point," Multi-Elbow said, sounding to be the more discerning of the two. "Wilkins is a greedy bastard and he'd have to know we'd come after him again if we ever got free."

"You have saved us some trouble, human, and freed us from our forced servitude," the Strong and the Swift said, sounding only mildly irritated. "As such you have earned a boon from each of us as reward. What is it you wish?"

Typical.

Not more than five minutes free from their enslavement and already they're trying to ensnare me in an infernal trap of theirs, he thought keeping his incredulousness off his face. Best keep it simple. "The only boon I require of you three would be for all of you to leave this town peacefully and never return, even under the direst of circumstances," he replied, not wanting to chance the three getting playful and terrorizing the people of Sunnydale.

"Are you certain?" Babel asked, sounding like he'd prefer the boon to be reconsidered. "While we are not as powerful as some of the demon lords, we could give you much. Power, wealth or perhaps even telling you where you could find a means to enhance your considerable magical might."

"I am certain. There are innocents here that I wish to protect but I am not so bold so as to place such a bother on the shoulders of you three," he said, remaining polite yet firm in his decision. "Simply leaving this town be and causing it no trouble will be enough to settle the debt between us. Besides, I am sure you are eager to find out what has transpired since you were captured by Wilkins and would not delay you further."

"Very well, mortal. We three shall leave the Hellmouth never to return," Babel said, sounding disappointed that they'd been unable to ensnare their prey. "I pray you do not come to regret wasting our generosity."

With that the fire breather teleported away in a puff of flame and the others followed suit in their own unique manner until he was the only one to remain standing in front of city hall.

You have great potential, Alexander Harris. I wish that there was some way I could aid you in reaching it but I have duties of my own that I am obliged to attend to. He willed the Cloak of Levitation to once more take him to the sky. I must find the source of the spell that brought me here. With luck I will be able to break it before Buffy comes to harm. If she is truly of a special bloodline of warriors, she should be able to protect herself once the spell is broken.

He prayed that it would not be otherwise.