"The Sky Opens Up, Things Doth Die" by Shadow Master

email: ryley[underscore]breen

(BtVS/Utawarerumono/Rurouni Kenshin/Outlaw Star/Dog Days/Omamori Himari/Others)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no money from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write these stories because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my work. Therefore I would appreciate it if no legal action were taken against me. I can assure you that whatever you get will not cover even a fifth of your legal fees or in any way compensate you for the time lost due to the legal proceedings.

Timeline info: Things will start out in the BtVS universe during the Season 2 episode "Becoming Part 2". In the Utawarerumono universe it will happen during the final episode of the first anime series.

Note 1: As with many of my stories I will do what I can to remain true to canon facts but not to the point where they will interfere with the story I wish to tell. This is a Fan Fiction story after all so to me that means I have some leeway in terms of how I use the source material. As long as the changes I make are feasible and people can connect dot A to dot B to dot C without too much trouble it's all good.

Note 2: I am willing to accept suggestions from you the readers but understand two things. First I will have final say on what is incorporated into the story. If your idea doesn't get used that doesn't necessarily mean it's a bad idea but rather that my own personal muse just didn't like it enough for it to be used. Secondly any suggestions must mesh with what I've written thus far. I write for fun and I am not getting paid for a single word. Any suggestion that's going to require that I go back and rewrite an entire scene or even an entire chapter to make everything fit together satisfactorily will very likely be discarded without more than a light review. It would have take an idea that would have my muse jumping up and down on the bed like me on a sugar rush with an excited grin on her face for me to be willing to rewrite things to that degree.

Now with all that said and done let's get going to the good stuff…

The Sky Opens Up, Things Doth Die

Universe 05191998

This is going to come back and bite me in the ass, I just KNOW IT! he thought as he continued to make his way to the Crawford Street mansion as quickly as he could.

Willow, his bestest bud and basically his sister, had ordered him to find Buffy and tell her to stall Angelus so that the newbie Wicca could make another attempt at the soul curse. He'd tried to talk her out of it but she'd hit him with the 'Resolve Face', so he'd been powerless to stand up to her, leading him to where he was right now. Fortunately for him the 'Resolve Face' lost its effect on him the longer he was away from her so now he was firmly in the 'this is a terrible idea' camp. Oh, he knew that if he opened his mouth again to either Buffy or Willow they'd pull the 'you are just jealous of Angel' card but that was just them going with a more comfortable reason instead of the truth.

The truth of the matter was that, so long as Angel was a vampire, so long as there was a risk of the new soul curse breaking, there was never going to be a solid relationship for him and Buffy. Lack of immortality, limited interactivity, and her Slayer instincts screaming at her to kill Angel pretty much eliminated the chance for a healthy relationship. The whole 'Romeo and Juliet' fantasy that Buffy clung to would only blind her to the truth for so long before she'd be thirty something and Angel would still look to be in his mid-twenties. Then, of course, there was the fact that, unless she wanted to restrict their activities to something indoors or at night, there'd be a ton of things that they wouldn't be able to do together. Finally you had to consider the likelihood that Buffy's inner Slayerness would only get stronger in time, including the natural inclination to dust vamps.

It was a recipe for disaster and, as far as he could tell, only he and Giles could see it but the latter was too concerned to preserving his relationship of trust with his Slayer to confront her.

As a result he had a choice to make: pass on the message as conveyed or give Buffy the message necessary in order to save the world.

One life, metaphorically speaking, against the billions that were at stake the world over? There was no choice.

If Buffy held back in order to stall for time, she would die because he knew with absolute certainty that Angelus would not hold back against her. He'd come at her with everything he had, with the intent to kill, and even a fool knew that when you had person holding back fighting, someone who wasn't the latter was sure to win. As good as Buffy was at fighting, if she pulled her punches against Angelus with the buzz of potentially getting Angel back in her head, she would lose.

For the day to be won and billions of lives to be saved, Angelus needed to be destroyed.

Mind made up he continued along the way to Crawford Street, cutting through back alleys and backyards in order to shave off time in order to successfully intercept Buffy. It was only when he cleared a section of trees that he spotted Buffy striding purposefully on the main road towards the mansion that Angelus' crew were holed up in that he knew he'd made it. Picking up the pace, he pushed his way through the bushes by the side of the main road, jumping out in front of her, startling her into taking a step back.

"Xander!" Buffy exclaimed as she recognized who he was.

"Cavalry's here," he said, holding up the rock he'd grabbed a bit back as an improvised weapon. "Cavalry's a frightened guy with a rock, but its here."

He'd wanted something from the official armory back at the library or his own personal stock at home, but there just hadn't been enough time for that. Still, when Buffy held up a wooden stake, he didn't hesitate to trade up.

"That's better," he said, shifting the wood in his palm until it felt right.

"You're not here to fight," Buffy said as she resumed walking towards the mansion that was their destination. "You get Giles out and you run like hell, understand? I can't protect you. I'll be too busy killing."

"Now that's a new look for you," he said, falling into stride behind her, looking at the weapon in her hand.

"It's a present for Angel," she said, finally sounding like she had the resolve to do what needed to be done.

That made it all the more important for him to give her the right message rather than the one Willow had asked him to give the Slayer.

"Willow said to kick his ass."

Without anything further needing to be said they walked towards the fight that would either save the world or end it. Tuning out the noise of everyday thoughts, he did his best to get his head in the game even with the broken arm halving his ability to either defend or attack. He knew Buffy said that he was only there to get Giles out but he didn't believe that he'd be able to do so without encountering a single vamp. Most vamp lairs they cleaned out had at least four vamps in them but, when there was a Master running the show, that number could go anywhere from triple or quadruple that number. Sure, when Buffy started to kick ass and take names he expected that every minion in the building would swarm her but he'd still likely get the attention of a few stragglers.

He just hoped that he could handle them.

"We're going in by the back door. Give me three minutes to clear out any vamps around the door then follow," she ordered as they began to swing around to the rear of the mansion. "Find Giles and get him out as quickly as you can. Got it?"

"Got it," he replied not opposed to the idea at all.

He knew he wasn't in any shape to fight by her side and that only left running for it.

Once they reached the backyard he kept to the edge, hiding behind a tree, but Buffy just kept on walking even though there were two vamps guarding the back door. They spotted her almost instantly but before they could even speak she was right in their faces with the sword, cutting off their heads like grain before the scythe. Before the dust even finished settling to the ground she was through the back door and inside the building but all he could hear were the sounds of combat. He counted away the seconds of the three minute delay that Buffy told him to take and, when it ended, he moved forward swiftly yet cautiously. He pressed his back to the wall to the right of the door, inching closer to the doorframe until he could see inside. Seeing no vamps he quickly switched over to the left side of the door in order to make sure everything was clear. Once he was sure that he wasn't in any immediate danger he zipped inside, keeping every sense he had full throttle while looking for any sign of Giles' presence.

Probably in one of the bedrooms, he thought as he moved out of the kitchen into the interior hallway. Angelus doesn't strike me as the type to want an audience when he's having fun.

While some might think the vamp was just a private person, he figured that the truth of the matter was that Angelus didn't want any witnesses in case he failed to pry the info from Giles. He didn't know the Watcher well enough to know if the guy could hold up under torture but he'd like to think the Brit could last a good long while before folding. He REALLY hoped that G-man was in good enough condition to at least stand up because he knew for a fact that he wouldn't be able to carry the man out.

Creeping inch by inch he made sure to check his corners, just like the whispers of the soldier inside him said to. There were a few close calls with some straggling vampires but fortunately they'd been so dead set on getting to where even now Buffy was raising hell they didn't even notice him until it was too late. He did get a few extra bumps for his efforts but nothing like what he'd have gotten if the fang faces had been ready for him and worked together. Before long he was on the second floor and checking each room he came to for any sign of breathing because he knew no walking corpse would need to.

His heart was pounding worse than anything he'd felt watching a horror movie or in any of the past slayage he'd been a part of with Buffy. Still, the adrenaline did help deaden the pain from his broken arm and boosted his situational awareness past what he'd have been capable of normally. Bit by bit he searched until finally he pushed aside a curtain acting as a makeshift door to find Giles tied to a chair, looking like he'd been through utter hell. Blood was everywhere as were the wounds they had come from, with only a half-assed bandage job done to keep the Watcher alive. He could tell with a glance that the man needed immediate medical care that only the hospital could provide.

"Giles!" he exclaimed, rushing to the man's side.

G-man was slow to respond but the fact that the old guy was even conscious was still a big sign of the Brit's inner strength and resiliency.

"Giles!" he said again, trying to get the man to focus on him.

"Xander?" G-Man asked weakly but thankfully above a whisper.

"Can you walk?" he asked as he began to untie the restraints as swiftly as he could.

"You're not real," Giles muttered, sounding certain of that fact.

"Sure, I'm real," he said with an encouraging smile as he went for the last restraint.

"It's a trick. They get inside my head, make me see things I want," Giles explained, indicating that a vamp had done a mind whammy on him.

Fortunately he knew how to dispel that possibility.

"Then why would they make you see me?" he asked.

"You're right. Let's go," Giles said after visibly taken a moment to consider the statement.

With a groan he managed to get the older man standing and, with one arm thrown over his shoulder, he began to make his way back the way he'd come, hoping that once they were out into the streets they could flag down a car. G-Man might've proven he was made of stern stuff by lasting this long, but dragging him all the way to the hospital on foot would waste strength the Watcher likely didn't have. Once out in the hallway part of his mind hoped that none of the vamps would pick up on the mobile scent of blood or else he'd have to see just how fast he could drag Giles clear of the mansion.

And to think I have the easy job! he thought when he considered the trouble Buffy was probably having.

Even with a firm resolve and a head full of steam, he didn't for a second think that dusting Angelus was going to be an easy job. No vampire nasty enough to earn such a big chapter in the Watcher diaries would be a pushover, nor would any average vamp obey orders from another unless they were head and shoulders stronger. Still, if anyone could beat the odds and come out on top, it was Buffy.

She was his hero after all.

Universe 040309252006

Being of Darkness' POV

"No! We are the embodiment of tragedies!" he declared as he blocked his other self's overhead blow before kicking him away end over end.

He was not surprised when his light side, that many of the tribes called the White God, managed to regain his footing. They were, after all, two halves of the same whole and, while the circumstances of their separation might not have been precise, it did result in an almost equal division of their unified strength. No, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the power they possessed now was all that remained of that rough division of their combined strength. Untold years sealed away beneath the surface of the planet Earth had weakened them considerably so that, when they finally emerged, they were more fit to be called demigods rather than gods. Still, a part of him was glad that they had been reduced so much in power, for if they'd emerged from the seal still in full possession of their halves of their joined power, the planet would have been rendered lifeless.

Indeed, it looked as though his other half had not fully recovered from the wounds of their last confrontation decades ago, for what else could explain his refusal to control the development of their people.

"Indeed! We are the embodiment of tragedies!" the White God yelled as he leapt through the air, intending to strike.

"We are the embodiment of humility!" he said in counter to his other's statement.

"We are the-!" the White God said before their fists met, resulting in a devastating wave of energy and air displacement.

This was but a brief pause in their struggle and, once it was over, they resumed trading blows, with neither being able to retain the advantage before the other snatched it back. It angered him that his other was still this obstinate and so, interlocking his fingers with those of the White God, he tore the fool's right arm off, leaving not but a bloody stump behind.

"What's wrong, my other self?" he asked with mock concern in his voice. "Our powers should not be this weak!"

This caused the White God to roar in anger before finally tapping into his powers of matter conversion to create a substitute arm. With it his other self reached across the gap, grasped him by the face and then threw him into a nearby hill. While somewhat jarring, this did no actual damage, allowing him to rise to his feet soon after.

"This is what I would expect from-!" he said with satisfaction before being interrupted.

"I cannot suppress it!" the White God declared before charging.

He knew what it was because he felt it as well.

The overwhelming urge to destroy a copy that looks like you but possesses ideals and beliefs completely contrary to your own. It was an instinct that every living thing possessed, though only those that were sentient could truly comprehend it.

"Yes, this impulse… how could we ever suppress it?" he asked rhetorically as he charged forward to meet his foe head on. "At this current time and place, in front of you I exist, as well as yourself. Because we are the same being, it only increases!"

Again and again he struck the White God, taking full advantage of the fact that maintaining a matter construct required focus, so repeated blows to the head would dispel it. It did not take his other long to realize this as well and back off but the distance would do him little good.

"And we guided the people with our hatred for each other!" the White God said, fighting with words rather than violence. "But what lies at the end?!"

"Peace and rest," he replied without hesitation.

"Peace and rest!?" the White God asked incredulously.

"When my followers manage to attain my level of power, they are freed from an infinite amount of isolation!" he replied with full conviction as he charged, kicking his other self to the ground. "That is their wish!"

"Just for such a thing…" the White God said, rising once more.

The words pricked a bit of anger from him, causing him to leap up and land on his other self's chest to pin him to the ground.

"Can you still not remember?!" he yelled, irritated at the ignorance of the White God.

He remembered.

Indeed, not a day that went by that he did not remember the events leading up to their division. Back then they had been one being, a being called 'Iceman' by the hated humans, and they were enjoying the wonderful free life they'd been given with Mikoto and their child. It wasn't much compared to what the people enjoyed now, just a rough enclosure made of leaves and branches, but it had been home enough for them. It had been months since they'd been freed from captivity by the one his wife considered her father and every day had brought new joy to their lives. Using what knowledge and skills they possessed they had made a life for themselves, bringing them both happiness they had never before known.

'Iceman' had honestly believed that it would go on forever.

What a fool they had been.

Humans so foul they dared to play at being gods would never let their 'specimens' remain free and so it was one day that they came. With the snap of a twig he'd heard them and, when they'd stood to identify what had caused the noise, they'd spotted them immediately. Clad in protective suits that would allow them to brave the planet's environment, and armed with weapons the filthy humans had advanced, and when they'd tried to tell Mikoto to run they were struck with a drugged dart. Even as the drug took effect they could see their wife being restrained and separated from their child despite the former's pleas.

When they'd awoken they'd found themselves naked, bound in restraints, in a lab much like the one that they'd escaped from months prior. They were greeted by one of the foul humans that impersonated a deity there but not anyone that they'd seen before. Naturally they'd tried to break free but surprisingly enough the restraints proved strong enough despite the strength they'd exhibited in the past. The human had bragged about how his kind had managed to create a replica of the mask they wore and how invigorating it felt once he placed it on his face. Physical capabilities and immunity to contagions were boosted beyond what humans had been able to achieve in previous attempts. The fool believed that, with further refinement and enhancement, it wouldn't be long before humanity would be able to leave their sealed environments and return to the surface.

Like they'd cared about ridiculous things like that!

All they'd cared about was the location and condition of their loved ones!

The human scientist had not understood at first but, when he had, he'd dared to call her a 'sample' and how wonderful it was that she'd actually given birth. They'd been furious because they'd been able to tell just by the tone what the human thought of Mikoto and their child. This was only confirmed moments later when the human said that their beloved wife and child had both been dissected, each of their body parts put into containers for future examination. They'd been numb to emotion as their mind processed what they'd been told and presented with a life without the ones that had meant the world to them. It'd been so incomprehensible that, on their own, it would've taken hours to come out of it on their own, but the foolish human male then spoke words that made it happen all at once.

'There's nothing to fret over. If those are the type you like, we can make ten, twenty or as many more as you like.'

Then the human had dared to start laughing. Laughing at the lives he'd ended. Laughing at the idea that Mikoto's life was a precious thing that could never in a million years be duplicated! LAUGHING AT THEIR SORROW AND PAIN!

Fury exploded into existence within them that rose to new heights with every passing second and gave no sign that it had any true limit. They'd asked the human, not really caring for an answer, if he really wanted a strong body that badly. It had been then that they'd truly tapped into the power they possessed for the first time, causing the restraints to crumble into nothingness even as it wrapped around them like a fog. Drawing forth more and more power, their body had changed to accommodate the energy, then, when they were satisfied, they reached out to every human on the planet to 'grant their wish'. One after the other they'd changed the humans from the bipedal forms they'd once been to formless blobs of slime with little more than instinct to guide them. Perhaps a few of them might retain fragments of their former lives in what passed for their new form's minds but never would they come close to what they'd once been.

That had been when the first sign of division had occurred for, while his pseudo self had reveled in the glorious revenge he'd taken against the humans, his partially formed other self had been horrified. The young White God had at first attempted to fight for control but when that had failed, his other self had reached out to Mutsumi, one of the other experiments created by the filthy humans, begging her to stop them or, if that was impossible, to destroy them. Thus, with an almost telepathic command to one of the orbital weapons the humans had in orbit, an energy blast many times stronger than any nuclear explosion fell from the sky to destroy the facility they'd been in.

It hadn't done any good.

Even a power great enough to remake the region in a single blow was not a threat to them when they were of one body.

In light of this failure Mutsumi chose to split the two of them into separate beings, then seal them deep within the land in an other dimensional jail. This was done most likely because, in their unified form, even the sealing method created by the humans would not have worked. The sealing method, however, did not last forever and the two of them periodically broke free to return to the world, coming into conflict with one another over and over again, with the loser being sealed away.

"It was all to guide our people towards a new light," he said as he countered the White God's attack.

"And that is bringing pain and sadness upon the people!" the White God yelled back even as he recovered from the blow he'd just received.

His other self tried to fight back but he no longer felt like debating their positions or indulging in further combat. Thus with a single move he impaled the White God upon his forearm spike, lifting him into the air to say a few final words.

"I shall guide the people!" he declared, full of intent.

"No! We are an unneeded being!" the White God declared, using his one remaining hand to grasp the forearm that he was impaled upon. "People will live by their own will!"

It was then that he felt it, the essence and flesh of the White God, beginning to merge with him like water flowing through his veins.

"What? You wish to become one with me again?!" he asked, unable to believe his other self would choose to do such a thing.

He knew not what his other self was doing but he did know that it would almost certainly interfere with his plans for the future, so he fought against the merger with every ounce of power he possessed. Sadly he did not possess the reserves of power that he'd once had when they had been the Iceman, so his willpower barely slowed the spread of his other's infection. In no time at all he was paralyzed and was unable to prevent the White God from delivering the masterstroke, separating his head from his body. With no mind to control the power it heeded the command of the White God more swiftly, dissolving into energy before circling his other self like a whirlwind. In no time at all they were once more one being but, unlike before, now it was he who was trapped inside with no control over what the physical body did.

This was INTOLERABLE!

He would not allow his other self to put an end to all the work he'd accomplished and all he still had yet to accomplish! With an almost bestial fury and determination he clawed at the force that kept him suppressed, determined to, if not force a separation between the two of them once more, then at least to gain control of their unified body. It was like trying to swim back to the surface of a lake filled with sand. For every inch of progress he managed more sand was moved in to keep him down, but he did not give up. It was his duty as the god of the tribes of the planet Earth to lead them to greatness through struggle and strife! He would not allow them to slip back into primitive existences or worse, follow the same path that their human creators had tread countless centuries ago!

When he heard that the White God intended to have the two citizens of Onkamiyamukai seal the both of them away, he fought all the harder. If they succeeded it could very well be millennia before he managed to escape once more and by then all his hard work would be rotten, forcing him to start from scratch. Desperation crept into his actions as he struggled to break free before the sealing method finished its work, but soon was forced to realize that so long as his other self suppressed him, it was pointless. He just needed ONE unrestrained moment, one opportunity when the White God's will was not keeping him contained, and then he realized how he could make it so. It was as he looked at the gathered allies of his other self that a thought occurred to him and, as he examined it, a plan formed.

It was risky and it could very well kill him, but if it succeeded like he hoped it would, this moment of weakness could lead to his greatest triumph ever.

Thus did he begin to gather what power was still his and, with a bit more fanfare than substance, he threw himself towards the open sky in order to make a ghostly visage of his head appear to the subordinates of his other self. As he'd predicted they all charged forth, their weapons intent on cutting flesh, thinking that it would prove enough to daze him, allowing the sealing method to finish its work.

Fools.

For all the advancements they'd made since being simple lab creations, they failed to understand that, in causing him pain, they also caused the White God pain. The only difference was that he'd been ready for it so, while his other self lost his focus to the pain, his mind was still quite clear. Knowing that he would have but seconds before his opportunity vanished, he seized control of all the power they possessed to the very last drop before reaching out through time and space for what he sought. Thanks to the tear in reality that the sealing method created, he was able to peer deep into the ether between dimensions in order to find what he sought.

Where… where is it?! Where is the hole that I seek!? he thought as he looked for what he needed even as his window of opportunity continued to shrink at an alarming rate.

It was just when he thought his gambit had been for nothing that he detected a small hole and he could sense from it humans. He knew not if they were anything like the monsters that had taken Mikoto from him but it mattered not since it indicated an Earth like his own on the other side.

That would do for his purposes.

Establishing a link with a suitable being on the other side, he threw his all into his plan, leaving his other self scrambling to regain his former position of dominance.

Too late!

Universe 05191998

Buffy's POV

"Now that's everything, huh? No weapons... No friends... No hope," Angelus said causally even as he pointed his sword in her direction. "Take all that away and what's left?"

What was left?

The sword that was supposed to shut down Acathla when used in combination with Angelus' blood had been knocked from her grasp and rested outside of her reach. She would not be able to get it back before the vampire that had once been her soul mate struck her down. She knew now all too well just how skilled he was with a blade and knew that, if he got serious, it wouldn't take him even two seconds to impale her or slit her throat open. She had given it her best, done her best to kill the part of her that still wanted to find a way to bring Angel back, but that had not been enough. Was it really worth struggling over more? Would it not be easier to accept defeat, let him kill her, before the Earth was swallowed into hell?

At this question her life went through her mind, the good times as well as the bad, showing her the sort of life she'd led up until now. Her childhood, her years at Hemery High School before transferring to Sunnydale High School, her determined efforts to retain a normal life amidst her Calling as the Slayer and the friends she'd made who had helped keep a smile on her face. All in all it was a life that had been better than anything she could have predicted when she'd first tried to predict her future. But when she contemplated the idea that it was about to come to an end, she found her heart singing in rejection of that outcome. There were so many more things that she wanted to do! So many things she wanted to experience! Not just her but everyone she knew without a doubt had dreams they wanted to make real more than anything else! How could she even think of giving up!?

So, as she sensed Angelus' sword tip towards her face, she snapped her eyes open even as she brought both hands up to catch the sharp piece of metal between them, stopping it in its tracks.

"Me," she replied to his earlier question before she shoved the blade back, hitting Angelus in the head with the hilt, causing him to stumble backwards.

Hopping to her feet she lashed out with a kick to his chest, causing him to stumble back even more. Now having enough room she reached down and picked up her sword before twirling it around to get a feel for it once more before thrusting it at him. He parried the strike but this only led to an exchange several blows, with each of them blocking the other. Spinning around she swung her sword down at him from above. Angelus held up his own sword to block but the amount of power she put behind caused him to fall to one knee. In an effort to break through his guard she raised her sword again, bringing it down, only for the vampire's guard to withstand it once more. Spinning around in the opposite direction she went with another tactic in the form of a roundhouse kick to his side, causing him to collapse to the ground.

Kicking him viciously, she sent him flying in through the door back into the mansion before hitting the floor and rolling to a stop. Before he could get all the way back to his feet she leapt in and swung her sword at him but somehow the vampire managed to parry her blow before regaining his footing. Blows were exchanged but the power of her resolve was pushing Angelus to his limits, resulting in him missing a block, getting his hand sliced as punishment. Vampires might not die from wounds that would kill a human but they still felt pain just like a human and therefore reacted like one when their skin was parted. Reflexively he dropped his sword to clutch at the wound and she took the opportunity to deliver a high kick that knocked him on his back before Acathla. As he rose to get back to his feet, looking to be just weak enough for her to deliver the final blow, she brought her sword up ready to impale him on it, thus ending the threat to Earth once and for all.

But then something happened she did not see coming causing her to stay her blow.

He suddenly gasped loudly and groaned in pain even as he looked her right in the eye. With no comprehension she watched his eyes glow bright red for an instant before going back to his normal dark ones. He looked up at her but, without saying a word, collapsed to the floor crying like someone who'd just lost everything. Staring down at him, she still held her sword raised behind her just in case this turned out to be some sort of trick. Angel raised himself back up, his eyes heavy with tears, and looked into her eyes with confusion in them.

"Buffy?" Angelus sobbed as he looked at her. "What's going on?"

He didn't sound like he had before, no cruel malice or mocking sadism, but she could not let this be her sole piece of evidence that circumstances had changed.

"Where are we? I-I don't remember," Angelus said with honesty coming through loud and clear.

He truly didn't know where he was despite how long the vampire had been living in it.

That could only mean…

"Angel?" she gasped softly even as the realization causes her to lower her sword to her side.

"You're hurt," he said after noticing the gash she'd gotten earlier and reaching out for it with a tender hand.

When he grasped her arm and stepped closer, she waited briefly for the inevitable 'gotcha' that Angelus would do at this point but it never came.

"Oh, Buffy…" he said as he suddenly hugged her tightly. "…God. I…I feel like I haven't seen you in months."

Closing her eyes, she let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding even as all doubt left her. A miracle had happened and somehow Angel had been returned to her. All the weight she'd been holding on her shoulders vanished as elation replaced it.

"Oh, my God, everything's so muddled. I..." he said even as he gripped her tighter as if not wanting to lose the one thing he did know. "Oh Buffy…"

She could hold it back no further and hugged him back with all her heart even as she closed her eyes to drown herself in feeling she had not experienced in months. It was only when she noticed a change in the air that she opened her eyes but what she saw made her wish that she'd kept them shut. Behind Angel the stone form of Acathla had changed, its mouth had opened, and a fiery portal was coming into being, growing in size with every spin.

She was too late.

She'd hoped, oh GOD how she'd hoped, that with Angel's return they'd be able to finish off Acathla together before returning to the others victorious. Now, though, she knew her happy ending was not to be and instead she would be forced to experience the most heartbreaking of tragedies in order to save the lives of everyone on Earth. Her strength was failing her thanks to the emotional pain she was experiencing and so she would one last time set it aside to do her duty as the Slayer.

After this… after this she was done.

Letting go of him, she stepped back, his mind and body too much of a mess to keep her in his embrace.

"What's happening?" he asked, confusion returning to his voice.

"Shh… don't worry about it," she said even as she reached out to tenderly brush her fingers over his lips and across his cheek.

With one hand she let her hand rest on his cheek before pulling him into a final kiss that they both enjoyed to the fullest. She maintained the act of love for as long as she dared before she broke it off to look him in the eye.

"I love you," she whispered, unable to say it louder for fear her resolve would crumble.

"I love you," he said in return, making her heart reverberate with the pain that was threatening to explode forth.

"Close your eyes," she said, knowing that he wouldn't hesitate to do as she asked.

From his point of view she was his one true love that he had fought alongside and cherished with all his metaphorical heart.

What reason did he have not to trust her?

As soon as he closed his eyes she brought back the sword in her hand, fully intent on impaling Angel through the stomach, thus meeting the requirements for shutting down the portal. However before she could make the most painful move of her life something happened that she had never seen before and thus did not know how to react to. While she had been expecting things to start getting sucked in but never did she ever think that something would come out of Acathla's vortex.

As a result she was completely overcome when the black energy came out with all the speed of an oncoming bus.

There was no time to evade. There was no time to even swing her sword in a futile attempt to fight the energy that actually caused the Slayer essence, something that she always felt within her, to recede in fear.

As whiteness enveloped her vision and feeling began to leave her body, all she could think of was of how her luck had finally run out.

Realm of the Gods aka Realm of the Powers That Be

Hephestus' POV

"THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING!" Strife exclaimed even as every realm connected to the mortal one was in complete upheaval.

"Get a grip, Strife!" Ares growled even as he worked with the others to break out every last trick at their disposal to halt the progress of the dark energy that was sweeping over the planet Earth.

To say that they'd been blindsided by this would be like saying Aphrodite wrote the book on love. While they'd been a little pissed that Angel hadn't been around to stop the awakening of Acathla like they'd originally planned, Slayer Summers had been seen as a suitable substitute. With a little prodding from Whistler everything had been set in motion and, up until a minute ago, they'd all been watching what they'd thought would be the closing seconds of this year's apocalypse.

When the alarms had gone off, indicating the presence of an unknown energy type, they'd been surprised. Each of them had been around for millennia and the governing body called the Powers That Be had been around even longer. As a result they'd identified, analyzed and recorded countless forms of energy making the likelihood of them encountering something the system couldn't put a name to was unlikely to say the least. At once they'd scrambled to their stations, intent on getting ahold of the situation before it got out of hand, but by the time they had most of the United States of America had already been covered in the unique energy. Seeing the speed at which it was spreading, he'd known immediately that now wasn't the time to be waiting until they got a full read on the phenomena. Immediately he'd activated the protections that'd been placed on Earth to counter an invasion from hell in the form of ward barriers and magical fields meant to disperse cohesive energy fields.

Unlike the usual ones that were created by mortal beings and the few demon hybrids on Earth, these were both created as well as sustained by a lake of power provided by the Almighty. It would take a pureblood demon at full strength to stand against them but none of the sensors set up to notify them of such a being on Earth were producing warning pop-ups. Indeed, as everything popped into place, they could see the energy be affected by them and thought that it'd be only a matter of a minute or two before it was completely halted. Then they could get to work on eliminating it altogether before plugging up Acathla's vortex themselves. Normally it'd have been a violation of eternal law to directly solve the problem but, considering the situation, they'd been confident that both sides of the war would allow it.

Whether the world was saved or lost, neither Heaven nor Hell would permit outside interference.

When the wards had shattered and the magical fields underwent incredible drain, all of them had felt something akin to what humans usually felt when beholding something unheard of.

That had led him and the others to where they were right now: trying to scrape together a plan B.

"How long until the field completely encompasses the planet?" he asked even as he prepared to deploy some of his reserve weapons.

"Two minutes. Maybe three if Zeus' lightning barrier can slow it down," Apollo replied as he frantically worked at his station.

I wouldn't bet on that, he thought since if the foreign energy followed its usual pattern it'd slow down and THEN absorb Zeus' magic to the last drop.

Tapping the command to deploy his weapons, he looked at the map displaying the area where they'd land to see if he'd made the right choice or the wrong one. The weapons were designed to open time portals about the size of your average baseball stadium and pull everything within half a mile into it. It was extreme and some mortals might get caught up in it but, considering what the unknown energy had done thus far, he very much doubted that many were still alive to begin with. One by one icons indicating the successful activation of the weapons appeared on the map and for a moment his plan of 'send the dangerous energy anywhere but here' looked to have been the right one.

Right until they puttered out due to sudden instability issue.

"Well, that didn't go as planned!" he growled as he tried to come up with another idea.

"So what else is new!?" Apollo asked in frustration as he slammed his hands on his workstation. "It's like this energy is alive with how it's adapting!"

"Is that even possible?!" asked Athena as she looked through their extensive database for a solution.

"You tell us! You're the goddess of war and wisdom!" Discord bitched as she tried to fight chaos with chaos.

"Only by being connected to every single piece of it could someone control their magic like this!" Athena fired back even as she discarded one section of the database and began looking through another. "But it'd be impossible for one being to control all of this shit!"

No kidding!

While the rest of them had been talking the energy had finished covering North America and was moving across the Atlantic Ocean as well as across the Gulf of Mexico.

They were running out of time.

"NOT good," he said even as he looked through the inventory list of his weapon storehouses.

"And it just got worse," came a voice from the entrance to the room.

Turning his head, he watched one of his half-siblings enter with a look that never boded well when the God in question had it on his face.

"What do you mean, Janus?" he asked, hoping it wouldn't be as bad as his imagination thought it was.

"Points of contact for the pantheons native to North America have just gone dark. Portal points, communications alters and even methods of monitoring chosen mortals are failing to register Hephestus," Janus replied, sounding grim. "I've contacted the pantheons to see what luck they've had in reestablishing the points of contact. They've had none."

This was an unheard of crisis!

Many of those points of contact had been in place since the worship of those specific deities first made contact with mortals. As with most places of power the longer they existed, the more strength they gained until it took something of mammoth proportions to break them, usually a powerful ritual conducted by several experienced magic practitioners. To find out that their connection to the deities had been destroyed beyond the point of being reestablished…

"At the rate the energy is expanding across the planet, we'll lose all contact with it in less than two minutes," he said as his mind conjured images of what Earth would be like with no further divine intervention.

The only thing that didn't make him openly freak out was the fact that the other side, Lucifer and his bunch, were likely experiencing the same problems.

"It might be worse than you think," Janus said as he moved over to the main control console. "I have a suspicion I need to confirm."

Watching the god of beginnings and endings work, he watched as an image of the planet appeared and while at first it only showed the alien energy sweeping over the planet that was soon swept aside to focus on just the planet. Curious, he stepped closer to his fellow deity to see what concerned Janus so much. It was only when the probability filter was added to the scan of the planet that he got his first clue as to what concerned the Roman deity was so worried about. Normally the probability filter was used on a specific regions or people to let them plan their strategies with maximum efficiency. To his knowledge it'd never been done on the planet as a whole due to the sheer number of life forms and variables involved. However Janus looked to be avoiding the life forms entirely and focusing entirely on the planet. Normally this would barely get a blip from the probability filter because, while the planet was ever-changing, it happened in a predictable manner with few true surprises.

Now, though, the filter was giving off spikes more at home on a seismograph recording of an earthquake measuring a nine on the Richter scale.

"It's even worse than I thought," Janus said as he slumped at the console. "This is the end."

"What do you mean?" he asked, not liking what he was hearing one bit.

"Since the unknown energy phenomena first showed itself I've been getting steadily stronger. When I investigated to find out which of my domains was responsible it turned out to be transitions," Janus replied as he turned around a despondent look on both his faces. "However the tools on Roman Olympus were incapable of providing me with answers so I came here. I suspected it might be bad but I never thought it would be this bad. The planet is preparing to leave this reality."

"WHAT!?" he and everyone else in the room exclaimed at the top of their divine lungs.

"I didn't want to believe it myself but the signs are all there. The loss of contact with the mortals via mystical means, the probability filter giving off such violent readings and… the information I gleaned from the mind of Slayer Summers." Janus explained with some reluctance.

Understandable since Slayer Summers and her allies were not exactly the favored mortals of their august body. Buffy Summers had never been what they'd considered an ideal Slayer but such was often the case when they were forced to Call a girl who had not been raised by the Watcher's Council. Contrary to what some might think, the selection of a Slayer from the long list of potentials was far from random and was in fact a grueling process of review before the choice was made. At the time of the previous Slayer's death they'd narrowed down the possibilities to two: Buffy Summers and a girl named Kennedy. The latter was younger than Summers by several years and had a somewhat spoiled personality thanks to her rich parents, while the former was from an upper middle class family who'd proven she could be serious when the situation required it. In the end they'd chosen Summers but the girl's refusal to accept her Calling fully was a periodic source of frustration for all of them. Still, they had taken some solace from the fact that she wouldn't be around long. Slayers, regardless of how talented they were, never lived very long once they were Called.

Precisely as they'd designed the system along with the original founders of the group that over time evolved into what was now the Watcher's Council.

It had been known from the moment it had been proposed that taking a fragment of an Old One's essence and bind it to the soul of a human host that there was a danger. The Old Ones were demons of incredible power and it had taken almost everything the forces of light possessed to rid the world of them. While the fragment would bestow upon the girl who wielded it the ability to fight what hellish half-breeds remained and prevent the return of the evil exiled to other dimensions, there was also a risk.

The risk was that, given enough time, the fragment might grow strong enough to swallow the host whole, turning she who was once a savior into a monster.

In the early years that the Slayer existed they took the time to measure precisely how long it was before the girl ceased to care about human beings and devoted herself to simply enjoying murder. It was determined that their late teens was when the taint began to manifest itself and so they made certain that each Called girl would not reach the dangerous age. They did this via three methods that for centuries had proven quite effective.

First they severed all contact the girl had with humanity, save the Watchers, in order to eliminate her reason to live. Human beings needed bonds such as love, friendship and kinship in order to maintain a grip on hope when all else failed. Without them their soul slowly died until it welcomed death in order to be released from the misery that drowned them in life.

Second they ensured that only the bare minimum support was provided to the Called Slayer in the form of books and a single Watcher to guide her even as they monitored her for signs of the taint gaining dominance. Of course during the times in which the world threatened to end all support was provided in order to ensure that she prevailed. For the rest of the time she was sent after demons of increasing deadliness in the hopes that one of them would succeed in killing her. Should she manage to somehow survive to the age of eighteen, they had one final means of ensuring that the fragment did not consume the host.

The Cruciamentum.

In the time leading up to her eighteenth birthday the Slayer would be placed under hypnosis before receiving injections comprised of adrenal suppressants and muscle relaxants. Eventually she would lose all of her Slayer powers and be made to face an opponent of the Council's choosing with only her wits to defend her. Only the leading members of the Council knew the true purpose of the test, with the rest being told a convenient cover story. They were told that it was a test meant to provide the Slayer with a way to prove that she was more than just her physical prowess and that her mind was sharp enough to defeat the demons. They were told that if a Slayer passed the test, she could never again have her methods or her choices questioned.

The truth was that the Cruciamentum was a method execution.

Every demon the Council chose to pit against the Slayer was specifically chosen so that no amount of cunning or strategy would allow them to survive.

Should one actually manage survive the test, the Council wet works team would kill her before the drugs in her system successfully left her system enough to regain her former strength.

Most of them were looking forward to the day when they would no longer need to worry about the headaches she caused.

However he knew that Janus secretly liked the chaos the girl created, along with her friends, so he supposed it was only natural that the deity would think to look for information through her.

"The energy that seeks to envelope the Earth came from the portal of Acathla. Before it overwhelmed her, Slayer Summers sensed overwhelming evil from it, evil that I have only ever sensed once before… in an Old One," Janus explained, moving past the looks the others were giving the Roman. "Not just any Old One but one that could've challenged Illyria, God-King of the Primordium at the height of her power."

"Ridiculous! Even she could not make an entire planet leave its designated place in reality!" Ares yelled incredulously even though there was a hint of fear in his voice.

"Not safely and not alone, but if such a being were to tap into the magic of other sources, merge with them, it could be done. I sense that the being behind this is doing this out of desperation as well as ambition," Janus said, ignoring the war god's words. "It does not care that it could do itself harm by taking this action. All that matters to it is that it wins."

"If you are right, my old friend, then there is nothing we can do," he said, trusting the perceptions and theory of his friend. "All the means we have available to us will only feed this being and hasten the departure of Earth. The End Times have arrived in a manner none of has foresaw."

"No. There is one more thing that we can do," Janus said with a gentle shake of his head. "One final act we can perform as guardians of the light and agents of the Almighty's will. We can sow the seeds for this being's defeat."

"How?" he asked, a faint light of hope dimming the darkness of despair within him.

"We can empower them…" Janus replied with a wave of his hand causing five points of light to appear then expand causing all to look away, "…and ensure that wherever the Earth goes it will still have protectors. That light will still oppose darkness."

When the light of summoning faded all looked to see who had been brought before them and when he saw their faces he instantly knew their names.

Buffy Summers.

Willow Rosenberg.

Alexander 'Xander' Harris.

Rupert 'Ripper' Giles.

Cordelia Chase.

Together they formed what could be considered the core of the group that the teenagers had christened 'The Scoobies' and were the last people the gathering of deities would have chosen to place their hopes in.

"THEM! You must be joking!" Ares exclaimed in clear opposition. "Those loose cannons will not end the chaos; they will only add more fuel to the fire! Especially HIM!"

Who was HIM? Xander Harris, of course.

The teenager whom no one respected and all believed would amount to no more than what his father had turned himself into. A teenager who, instead of conforming and abiding by the words of prophecy, succeeded in breaking it, resulting in the twinning of the Slayer line. He was cursed by those who guided the Earth's future through prophecy, whose plans spanned centuries of time, and only the Almighty's untouchable rules concerning free will kept him safe from reprisals.

"It is because of their ability defy destiny and sow chaos that they are the ones best suited to oppose this being. Great power begets great ambition and for those who care not for any but themselves, their plans become dark indeed," Janus stated, never once losing his cool. "However plans imply order, structure, and what better weapon is there to counter it then the chaos these five will bring. We need only provide them with what they lack to confront this being and the rest will take care of itself. What say you all?"

Time was growing short.

The time of Earth's departure rapidly approaching and a choice needed to be made before then.

In the end carefully debated and ascertained answers would take too long.

That left only instinct.

Walking over to his station, he quickly began typing commands accessing his personal armory containing weapons he had acquired throughout the centuries. With a final command his selections appeared next to the one he thought would be a suitable match.

For Slayer Summers a special guandao from China still possessing a bit of preserved frost on it since like most collectors he insisted on preserving his possessions in ideal condition.

For Willow Rosenberg he provided two weapons, a spear given from mother to son to vanquish an evil mythological lord, and a bow promised to grant victory by a teacher to his student, in order to keep enemies from reaching her less than warrior-like form.

For Rupert Giles he bestowed a Chinese jian double-edged straight sword that had once belonged to one who passed ten trials before receiving a truly rare reward. Then, on a whim, he added a metal rod golden in color and measuring roughly six feet long but fortunately the rumor of it weighing eight tons was just an outsider's appraisal. In truth the extreme weight was a mix of a security precaution to keep anyone else from wielding it and a means to increase the destructive force of its blows. The owner that mortals attached the weapon to had lost it to him in a poker game about a century ago and had been trying to win it back ever since.

It would do more good in Ripper's hands and the hairy fool might even be pleased with the new arrangement.

For Cordelia Chase, a beautiful young woman of high society, a bow once owned by one that eventually became the inspiration for Tolkein's grey pilgrim. While giving her an edged weapon or a war hammer might be more appropriate given her personality, she was not a trained fighter. Better for her to keep her distance from danger than put her right next to it.

Finally he came to Alexander 'No middle name admitted' Harris, who was both the member of the group he was most betting on to disrupt the plans of the evil being and the one he was most wary about. After all, not just anyone could shatter a prophecy of the Powers with just his determination and courage. Indeed, the mere fact that he could shatter a plan devised by deities meant that any intent he might start with regarding the lad would like go astray sooner or later. With a mental shrug, though, and keeping in mind where he planned to send the young man, he selected a blade from the homeland of the man who'd be the boy's teacher. He had to chuckle for a moment at how the priests of Atsuta thought that they still had the blade discovered by his pal Susanoo. It was even more amusing that many mortal scholars dismissed its true form simply because their 'evidence' made it clear that the legend was first told centuries before the period the weapon type was first historically made.

It would truly be a suitable blade for Harris considering the style of kenjutsu he would be taught.

"You really are betting everything on these five, aren't you?" he asked as he finished bonding the weapons to their new owners.

"Can we really afford not to at this point?" Janus asked in reply, pointing to the display that indicated that the energy was less than a minute away from completely covering the Earth.

"No. I guess we can't," he replied, nodding in agreement.

"Well, you'd best send them down now," Ares grumbled since he probably couldn't come up with a better idea. "I doubt you'll be able to once we're completely cut off from Earth by the energy."

"Oh, quit huffing, Ares," Janus said, chidingly to the war god. "As much as you and the others might despise this group for their lack of conformity, it's just that sort of temperament they'll need. When an enemy is unknown to all, sometimes all that can defeat it are those unwilling to compromise even in the face of great danger."

"Assuming they don't do something unpredictable like, say, defect to the other side?" Ares snapped, clearly irritated by the Roman deity's words.

"They would never do such a thing and you know it," Janus said as the timer reached thirty seconds. "All of them made the conscious choice to oppose evil and have not wavered. They will not."

"Janus? The timer?" he pointed out to his friend not wanting the preparations to be for nothing.

"Timer? Oh, yes. Just one more thing needs doing," Janus said before extending his right hand towards the five, discharging five spheres, one going to each mortal.

When the spheres were absorbed into the containment pods of energy surrounding the humans, an icon flashed briefly before disappearing.

For Slayer Summers the icon of a horse.

For Willow Rosenberg the icon of an eagle.

For Rupert Giles the icon of a wolf.

For Cordelia Chase the icon of a jaguar.

And for Alexander Harris an icon that was as different from the others as it was unique… a white dragon at the center of a perfect purple Chrysanthemum seal.

It happened so quickly that all the others in the room had likely perceived were the icons but, for a divine craftsman such as himself, his eyes perceived one further detail before the mortals vanished from the room.

"What the HELL was that?!" Ares asked, whirling towards Janus with suspicion.

"Merely providing a little extra spice to the mix while also remaining true to a promise made to an old friend," Janus replied with a casual tone.

"Janus!" Ares snapped, not willing to let this slide even though there's nothing he could do at this point.

"As the god of beginnings and endings I am afforded a degree of… insight into what comes after the transition. When I looked into the memories of Slayer Summers, I not only saw the source of the Earth's departure but also where the Earth was going," Janus replied, changing to a more serious tone. "Trust me when I say that the alterations I've added to the mix are essential to a positive resolution to the crisis."

"And you didn't tell us about this until NOW when it was too late?!" Ares asked, sounding determined to vent his storm of emotions upon the two faced Roman deity.

"I figured most of you were already pissed at who I'd chosen to stand against this evil. Didn't see a need to make things worse for myself by letting you know about details you couldn't do anything about," Janus replied with a shrug before turning to leave. "I'll see you all after the Almighty decides how to handle this unexpected wrinkle in the cosmic scheme of things."

With that the two faced Roman deity teleported out to the ethereal plane where the Roman version of Mount Olympus resided, leaving Ares upset and him shaking his head in exasperation.

Never could settle for 'good enough' could you, Janus? he thought, deciding to duck out before Ares targeted him for his fury. You just had to push the envelope a bit further!

If it wasn't for Janus' ability to acquire rare and useful materials for his creations, he would've washed his hands of the guy centuries ago.

A Forest Outside Kyoto

"Just when I thought I could live my final years in peace…" he thought as the violent earthquake stopped and the skies started to calm down.

He had lived a long time, longer than he wanted to if he was honest with himself, but such was the natural consequence of successfully mastering his specific style of kenjutsu. Most people would've taken advantage of a longer than normal lifespan to travel the world, experience all its wonders and meet interesting people.

He was not most people.

He preferred a solitary life, perfecting his pottery hobby while enjoying the peaceful and simple lifestyle the forest provided. With the location of his modest home known only to the few people he actually didn't mind interacting with that much, he'd enjoyed long periods of peace broken up by the few times he'd been forced to move due to land being developed by businesses. It was unfortunate that the lifestyle of a hermit meant that you didn't own land and therefore meant that you couldn't tell the suits or the men driving the bulldozers to go take a hike. Nevertheless, he managed to avoid hearing about the problems of the world for quite some time and anyone who came looking to forcefully enlighten him were 'politely' turned away.

If they were demons or the like, he took the opportunity to practice his swordsmanship to the fullest.

So it was something of a surprise to him when out of nowhere mere minutes ago all hell broke loose as the most powerful earthquake he could ever remember experiencing rocked the land while the sky above him looked like it might start raining balls of flame at any moment. However the greatest threat came not from the sky above or the earth below but rather from the east as a malevolent ki fouler than any he had felt since inheriting the title of Master from his predecessor. Knowing that not mounting a defense would prove harmful he unleashed the full might of his ki in the form of a protective sphere with his sword, as always, pointed in the direction of the threat. When the dark ki slammed into his own, he felt himself for the first time in a VERY long time being pushed to his limits and, for a moment, thought that he would be overwhelmed.

That was until he ceased trying to match the force assailing him strength against strength, instead reshaping his protection into a narrow arrowhead, diverting the energy off to the side. Given that the dark ki was not sentient and therefore was not picking him specifically as the target of its wrath, it followed the path of least resistance, lightening the load on his protection considerably.

Still, I'm glad that it's gone, he thought as he became aware of some sores. I appear to be quite out of practice with that technique.

That was most likely because it'd been so long since he'd been in a situation where using one's ki for defense in that manner was necessary.

Masters of his style of kenjutsu met few capable of surviving the first couple of minutes battling them and fewer still proficient enough with a blade to make the fight a serious one.

Only someone who could be considered an equal required that a Master go all out in a fight to the death.

Looking about, he was annoyed to find that the home he'd crafted for himself decades ago had been reduced to shambles, with him being skeptical as to whether or not it was even worth salvaging. The surrounding forest wasn't much better, with only a random tree still perfectly vertical and the rest pointing every direction EXCEPT directly up. Combined with new slopes, fissures and rocky outcroppings, it made him sarcastically think about how difficult it'd be now for anyone to get to him until he realized that this was likely not limited to just the area he lived in. All of Japan could very well have been caught up in it, with the damage being quite extensive to the major cities. As much as he disliked socializing with others, it was the mandate of the masters of his style of kenjutsu to protect people from suffering.

So long as he did not align himself with a political or economic power in the process that is.

His stupid previous apprentice had taken far too long to realize this one fundamental truth about their style.

Guess I'd better salvage what training necessities I can from the shack my homes turned into, he thought, his mind made up. It's going to take some time to reach Kyoto with all this mess in the way.

However before he could take more than a step towards his home he sensed a spike of energy that caused him to leap backwards in response to his many years of training. Less than a second later light exploded out of thin air, forcing him to bring up his cape to shield his eyes from its glare, until it'd dimmed enough not to be harmful. What he saw immediately triggered his instincts that often warned him when something truly troublesome had been dropped in his lap. Laying on the ground, apparently unconscious, was a young man of no more than seventeen summers dressed in modern clothing and, of all things, an egg the size of your average car tire resting against the lad's hip.

However the item that had his attention the most though was the rolled up scroll on the young man's chest for he had seen the like only three times before. Each time he'd wound up desiring nothing more than to find the asshole who'd sent it to him so he could see if he could kill a god. At the same time, though, each of those adventures had been necessary and, with the world as it was, he'd been the only one capable of doing what needed to be done.

What do you want NOW, Janus? he thought to himself as he walked over to the young man and picked up the scroll.

He felt the familiar warmth of the scroll's magic confirming that he was the one who was supposed to read the contents and then, as before, the seal dissolved. Unrolling it he saw the familiar handwriting but at least this time the two faced sonuvabitch was kind enough to write his message in his preferred language: Shōwa period Japanese.

My dear friend Hiko Seijūrō XIII

Now, as much as I'd like to write pages upon pages telling you about what's been going on since we last saw one another, I'm afraid that the situation is a little more serious. It seems that during an effort to prevent the stone remains of the demon Acathla from opening a portal big enough to swallow the world whole, something unforeseen occurred. Malevolent energy from another reality poured through the small fissure and, before we knew it, our new visitor was spreading across the planet.

Naturally we threw the usual spells, wards and weapons at it but they didn't work. The foreign energy was not slowed by our efforts but in fact fed on the magic that made them up. Indeed it wasn't just the obstacles and weapons brought to bear against it that it drained but every mystical artifact it came into contact with. With every second that passed our connections to the mortal world were being severed.

But that wasn't the most terrible part.

The most terrible part was the fact that the Earth was going someplace and we weren't being taken along for the ride.

Yes, you heard right: whatever force was behind the energy spilling out of Acathla's portal wanted to take an ENTIRE PLANET on a trip!

Never had that happen before.

ANYway, with the planet going bye-bye, I figured the best thing to do would be to make sure the pile of shit responsible didn't have everything go his way, so I selected a group of champions, gave them what they needed, and sent them on their way. Now the mortals have it right when they say that it's not a good idea to put all your eggs in one basket so I spaced out their landing coordinates so that they'd wind up where they could do the most good.

Lucky you you've got one of my favorites: Alexander LaVelle Harris.

Breaker of an official prophecy, ally to the current Slayer and one of the luckiest young men I've ever encountered. Of course it usually goes back and forth between good luck or bad luck, with no real detectable pattern, so I'm not sure if that's a good thing.

I have sent him to you with a request: teach him. Teach him the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū style of kenjutsu.

I know you swore never to take on another apprentice after the death of Himura Kenshin, but for what Alexander will face, he will need training only you can give him. The threat he will face is great but its abilities beyond transporting a planet as well as consuming magic are unknown. Therefore all that can be done is to prepare the young man as best as can be done. As the last living master of the Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū style of swordsmanship, find it within yourself to pass down your teachings one last time. Prepare this young man for the challenges ahead as only you can.

I think you'll find him up to the challenge.

In the end, though, I do not know if you will agree to my request, but even if you do not, know that I have always been grateful for the aid you have given me over the years.

Your friend,

Janus

PS-You might want to take two steps to the right.

Knowing that even if you hate them that when a god tells you to do something you'd best do it, he immediately stepped to the right. Not even a second after he did so something dropped from the sky, landing on the side of the young man opposite the unusually large egg. Looking at the object, he was intrigued to see that it was a sheathed katana and he could tell immediately that every part of it had been expertly crafted. Having wielded and on been on the receiving end of many katana's during his long life, he was quite familiar with the differences in how each was made, ranging from materials used to the skill of the swordsmith who made them. THIS katana and its sheath looked to be of sufficient quality that, had the man not died centuries ago, he would've said it had been made by none other than Priest Gorō Masamune himself. He had seen the man's work a few times during his travels, either on display in some noble's home or wielded by those who thought that the sword made the warrior.

Those fools never made the same mistake twice, one way or another.

Interested in learning more, he reached down to grasp the hilt of the katana in order to pull the blade from its sheath so that he could see it but, just before his fingers would've gotten close enough, something unexpected happened. Arcs of blue energy sprung into being, dancing along the hilt, but instead of the crackle he'd expected the sound he heard was more akin to the hiss of a serpent. This was only further reinforced when the energy that looked like electricity coalesced for a moment, taking on the loose appearance of a multi-headed serpent. With speed gained through endless training he managed to pull his hand out of reach and, in response to this, the energy immediately began to settle before fading away entirely.

This phenomena and the expert craftsmanship rang a chord within him and, when he followed the vibrations back to the memory that caused them, the shock he received was enough to break his composure.

"Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi…" he gasped in shock at being in the presence of such a legendary katana.

Putting his composure back together, he viewed the situation in a new light.

For Janus to send such a powerful blade along with Mister Harris indicated how serious the situation was and, unless he was mistaken, the energy he just witness would manifest if anyone other than the young man reached for the sword with the intent to unsheathe it. Personally he would've made it so that no one but the chosen wielder could lay a finger on it regardless of intent but he supposed that the loophole was in case the sword ever needed to be brought to the young man.

I guess that's one lesson I'll have to pound into the idiot, he thought as he reconsidered his plans for the future. A true swordsman never goes anywhere without his katana, nor does he allow it to be taken from him.

While he would be lying if he said that he didn't still possess some reservations about taking on another student, he efficiently wiped them from his mind. If he intended to teach the unconscious young man before him, he couldn't have any hesitation or distractions impairing his decisions if he wanted to do a proper job.

Hiten Mitsurugi-ryū was not a style that allowed for mistakes.

I'll also have to make sure that Mister Harris doesn't leave before he completes his training, he thought, remembering a certain rurouni. It would put a far finer end to things than it did with Kenshin.

Note: I know some readers will say that the deity featured in Utawarerumono is not powerful enough to do what he's done in this story. My response? Prove it. Take a canon fact from the manga or the anime that clearly shows the limits of what the deity is capable of and proves that he could not do what he's done in this chapter. Even if you do find some sliver of evidence I will simply stipulate that by draining the mystical defences of the gods and adding their strength to his own the deity had more than enough power to pull off his plan.

In any case I hope you will wind up liking the story regardless. C YA!