A lone figure stood atop the clocktower watching the city slowly return to normal.
He was Alexander Lavelle Harris, or was he Azrael the Angel of Death? His mind tried to sort out what had happened to him.
His mind fluttered as his now glistening silver eyes watched the cars pass by on the streets below while the massive wings of black feathers similar to those of either a crow or a raven ruffled in the slight breeze.
The silver bladed scythe with a darkwood handle and runes engraved in gem and saphire balanced him for a moment as the pitch black tunic shifted in the wind.
A unique, three barreled antique pistol hung at his waste, its size several steps above weapons made by mortal hands. The weapon had a true name that was inpronouncable in any language speakable by a truely mortal man or even a lesser fiend or celestial. His scythe was the same, though it had many names in nearly any language all that boiled down to the same two meanings either Finality or Entropy, it was meant to bring the end to any it was used against save its master.
The same master who now had a problem, he was unique before the fool of a chaos mage and that roman idiot decided to pull a prank. Among the angels he was the one who was deemed to be the guardian of death and darkness, the true dark angel as it were. Now his angelic soul had fused with his human soul in a way that the two moronic idiots couldn't have dreamed of and thus released an archangel upon the mortal realms without any limit to his power and yet he was bound by the codes of men and angels where they still applied.
He was both and yet neither, even the abominations that were nephilim never had such a dual nature, one entirely angelic and yet simultaniously human.
The other thing was that he was bored, since the release of his Lords anger millenia ago the world just wasn't a place he found any sort of enjoyment, and had only stepped foot there under orders a handfull of times, once being asked to let his darker side take over as a plague upon the chosen of his Lord.
This world was not the place of dragons and monsters he had enjoyed before, it felt different now, like he was in a world of glass and tissue paper where his slightest mistake could cause a catastropy of epic proportions.
His face, now a near alabastor had a contemplative look as a thought crossed his mind, he was unbound by the laws that seperated the divine powers from the earth, he was free to fight those he wished as he wished. Three pairs of ebony wings rose against the light of the full moon as he stepped forwards, the night where the worlds of the dead and the worlds of the living was still young and the Angel of Death would soar amongst the clouds once and forever more as a nightmare the fiends would learn to fear once more as the treaties that prevented angelic intervention no longer applied to him for as he realized was no longer either man or angel.
The gentle tug of the spirits he had to call as his leather boots slipped off the side of the tower as he launched himself into the air, all six wings of shadow eclipsing the moon for a moment as he took to the skies as he was born to them as memories of the events that led to this flashed before his eyes once more.
Xander was somewhat annoyed as he glanced at the costume that Buffy and Willow had picked out for him. The slayer had decided that there was no way he would be dressed as just a soldier after she had badgered Willow into picking something that was definately a come as you aren't. And so he had ended up with a few semi-damaged fake wings and other pieces Ethan had ended up with that was damaged and he'd barely managed to make it within the amount he was willing at maximum to spend on a costume.
A few mixed pieces of costumes led to him dressed as what seemed to be a vague mix of a nobleman and a priest with features of a dark angel. The scythe was a piece of black pipe with a piece of foil covered cardboard with stickers to mark the runes along the handle and blade. An afterthought caused him to add one of the older toys he'd had when he was younger that had begun life as a squirtgun and ended up with toilet paper rolls glead onto it to make it look unique and older before sliding it into a pouch on the belt with the grip in the open.
The massive wings had been part of a shipment of water damaged oned and had gotten the entire box for a quarter and glued the intact halves of the pairs togather to look right on the long sleaveless coat he wore that was also from the damaged goods stuff Ethan had gotten.
The kids he'd gotten stuck with were more agravating than usual and had decided to scatter the moment one of the youngest had slowed down.
Thats when the chaos began as raw power surged through the streets like a hurricane, centering on this new supernatural being that had come into existance. A human and an angelic soul could not exist in the same body, the very natures of the two species made them incompatible, but chaos found a way and basically discovered that you can fit a square peg through a round hole if you break out a sledgehammer and gave it a few wacks.
The street seemed to sink under deep shadows that spread from the entity that was comming into being as powers celestial and infernal felt the raw power of one of the most powerful of the angels fuse with the powers of a mortal man.
The two weapons powered by the primal forces of the universe Life and Death, or rather the sole power that encompasses both and all things. Entropy was given form through the raw powers of chaos colliding with countless eons of order in an annihalation effect much like a mix of matter and anti-matter. Power and energy to fuel this new creation, the first truely unique entity to walk the earth since Genesis containing the power that had been meant to be the last rider of this entities Lord and Master.
The being rose from the crouch he was in, ravens wings spreading wide for a mere moment before folding around him and seeming to mold themselves in ways that a mortal creatures couldn't to form what appeared to be a layer of leather with the pattern of feathers and his hair, now a metalic silver swirled from a breeze he seemed to generate himself as his formerly brown eyes opened in a stream of light made of seemingly gold and silver light.
"Interesting," he stated as memories of a conversation with one of the higher ups, one who actually liked popping up on the planet.
Metatron had mentioned with a laugh that he would be goind on an unexpected trip.
"Just plain interesting," he continued before breaking into a madening laugh that resounded from the houses and for miles around, "And what kind of idiot would do this sort of thing?"
And with that, the Angel of Death seemed to explode into a sphere of darkness that seeped everywhere before fading into the night.
Cordelia was in full panic mode, lady useless and Angel were cornered with her as a bunch of monsters were attempting to force their way past Spike.
Thats when mad laughter began to fill the room and palpable POWER seemed to rush in with an encircling black mist that deepened and expanded to flood the room as thousands of pairs of glowing silver and gold eyes seemed to stare at the inhabitants of the room.
Spike felt whatever a vampire has flowing in their veins turn to ice.
"Hello William," the voice behind the laughter whispered, the sound coming from everywhere and nowhere, "So this is where the rat hides, even more pathetic than your last."
"Who's there?" the vampire stammered as the minidemons and his minions scattered, the minions suddenly bursting into a cloud of ash that glittered in the light of the eyes.
"Your death," came the response as a silver haired and black clad figure seemed to slowly materialize from the seeming inky mist, wings suddenly flairing wide to their full fifty foot span, "Has come for you William."
The vampire almost had a heart attack as he staggered backwards from the spectre of true and final death stood before him, pale skin revealed only by the light of the eyes and the now shining emerald green of his scythes runes.
"No, I will not use my scythe upon you damned one," the archangel in the flesh whispered in an almost seductive tone, "Nor will my gun be tarnished by a need to remove you from this world."
He paused only an inch away from the vampires face, their breath touching skin for a mere instant before the angel reared up, "Feather Storm!"
Several of the celestials feathers seemed to detach from him and form a whirling maelstrom around him before he motioned with his hand and sent feathers sharper than any blade should be shooting forwards to impale the creature for a mere instant before Spike as well was turned to dust as the angel took his leave to walk the streets for a few more minutes before the spell would end.
AN: Well, this is the intro for an idea of mine, there will be crossovers later, but this is meant for Halloween