FicWad

- Final Battle -

--Rhamhal--

34

Rupert rolled up his left sleeve to bare the mark of Eyghon tattoo on his bicep and began to call upon the keepers of the Nether-realm: "We are here to make contact with the realm of spirit. That place which lies between here and the hereafter."

He inscribed with the Klingon dagger the word SPIRIT into his13th violet candle, and lit it with the burning incense. He placed it perfectly in the centre of their triangle with the other ingredients. Removing the blood-soaked talisman, Giles printed the red symbol over his existing tattoo. He discarded the talisman onto the charcoal tablet - dampening the fragrant flame and releasing the smell of burning flesh and blood.

He then proceeded to say: "Here do I light the first lamp of /Spirit/. ... May its light reach out across the barriers from this world to the next."

There came a silence, as Rupert seemed to wait for a sign of some form. His face began to show the first spark of defeat when, in an instant, a burning white brightness encompassed the room suddenly as the 12 candles circling the room spontaneously ignited.

He nodded to Willow and she continued from there. "May it make contact with that world of /Spirit/; unto which I will enter."

She reached over and took the SPIRIT candle in unsteady hands. "Illuminate the passageway between our worlds that our spirit-guide may come to us and speak with us today."

She handed back the candle.

"Are you ready?" Giles asked to be sure.

Will shrugged and closed her eyes; reaching out to take Anya's hand. "Merge," she invited. "Bring us together."

Their hands met with a sudden surge of energy that stiffened the witch up and she spewed forth a volley of ancient sounds: "Suo suere sui sutum ...biiugis catenatus coagmento!"

The candles exploded and the whole room vanished in a whiteout.



*



Somewhere on the planet surface:



The Alpha Team passed out of the wild woods and down a small slope that led them into a clearing. At their feet lay the same ground fog of the valley plain but under it they found a soft but solid heath.

The team hovered around one end of the small hollow and surveyed their surroundings meticulously. They were standing in a circular patch of land about 40 metres across completely fenced off by a ring of trees. Beyond those the jungle stretched out. Only one cluster of large rocks broke the line of bamboo and led to a place unknown. Overhead, dark clouds blocked out the sky and settled a dirty dusk over the land.

Picard drifted back to the group somewhat impatiently. "I see no sign of Data."

Spike felt like spitting. He could taste the sour presence of their target. "He's here."

Tensing, the Slayer gripped her bat'leth tightly.

"Where?" Worf scanned the glade.

"Right here!"

They all wheeled around.

The android appeared from the dark forest and strolled into the far side of the clearing incuriously. His face, still torn from eye to jaw, was now burned a little too and the rags he wore seemed more ragged than before.

"Data?" Captain Picard stepped forward with a flush of hope and relief.

"Yes, Captain."

"Are you alright, Data?"

Spike took hold of the captain's arm and halted him. "That's not yer android, mate."

"I am a little hungry, Captain," replied Data with a hint of playful deceit. "But it's nothing swallowing your soul won't cure."

Picard's hope faded. "I see." He physically sagged, but he did step closer cautiously. "Can Data hear me? May I speak with him?"

The android smiled, opening the tear in his cheek and revealing his inner workings. "Oh, he can hear you. He can see, hear, and feel /everything/. It's like sharing a room with a whining infant."

Data inclined his head to Buffy. "Slayer! We meet again. Small universe."

"You're just full of the old clichés," she responded with complete disdain. "See this," she went on, digging the gold-lit pouch out from her collar. "This means you can't touch me." She prayed the robot couldn't pick up on her false conviction. "My soul's protected. And look around... we ALL have them."

Data put a hand to his mouth and performed an exaggerated yawn. "You're just full of sh-t, Little Miss Slay-a-lot. I'd never be desperate enough to possess any one of you even if those pouches could stop me! You pitiful little fool."

Picard interjected quickly in an attempt to pull the situation together. One thing he could say about the Slayer; her negotiation skills were appalling. He had to bring the confrontation under a measure of control. "I'm sure that if we can remain calm and approach each other maturely and with respect, we can prevent any further escalation of our problems and help each other find an amicable resolution." He took another step forward and Worf followed him. "With a little compromise we can help each other. Will you allow me to speak to Data? Just for a moment?"

The android closed his yellow eyes and took an unnecessary calming breath. When his eyes opened again it was with menace. As once before they revealed a depth of nothing. A pair of black holes set in Data's distorted face. "I allow you only to die, Picard." He whipped something from his belt and sent it tearing across the glen.

Worf reacted suddenly to the machine's swift reflexes - shoving his captain to the ground. The small object, no doubt sharp and deadly, zipped by them and buried into a tree.

Dark Data stepped aside as Worf's Klingon spear dug into the dirt by his feet like a giant splinter.

Captain Picard, winded, picked himself up from the grass.

Data moved closer, passing the tall stick of wood, with a smile spread over his mangled face. "I have foreseen your fate and I shall bring such vengeance and wrath upon your worlds that your very souls will quake and tremble with drea-"

"'Scuse me," Buffy cut in, "I've heard this crap a million times... Can we just skip to the part where you die?"

"Oh, Slayer. ...I will drag you to the depths of Hell myself and drown you in eternal torment-"

"Hey!" Spike called. "You heard the lady - time to put up or shut up."

Data huffed. "Times have changed. Fine. I'll kill you quick!" He ran, snatching up a rock from the ground.

Worf drew out his actuation device to shut him down - but the stone smacked into his hand, knocking the device from his grasp and up into the mound of rocks.

Spike charged with his spear.

Slipping back to the trees, Data tore one down onto the vampire and crushed him.

Buffy attacked only to find her throat in the evil android's deathly grip.

"I went easy on you before," he snarled at her. "Not anymore!" Raising her up by her throat, he cracked his head into her face.

The Slayer's head rolled back and bled. He dispensed with her and she dropped like a sack of dead bones.

Dark Data clocked Worf scrambling relentlessly up the rocks to reach the actuation device. It couldn't stop him but it could slow him down. Unless it had been modified. Which meant, if the Klingon managed to use it, it might yet cause damage. He couldn't afford to let that happen.

Darkness set the android moving. He snatched the spear free from the earth and fired it at Worf.

The ambassador heard the weapon slicing through the air. He turned and put out both arms - catching the shaft in his hands. The wood cut into him and the point of the spear stopped against his face.

Worf lowered the weapon and felt at the small cut on his cheek with one burning hand. He was left staggered by the escape.

*



Picard circled around Data. Knowing he was physically no match by far, he tried to divert him a little and appeal to any sense of reason that might be in him. "Perhaps we might talk a little?"

"You have nothing I want and I'm not interested in your negotiation efforts. To my eyes you're just another human who isn't dead yet."

"You have a name," he continued regardless. "Rhamhal. Is that who you are?"

The android faltered. Clearly the entity within him was disturbed by Picard's comment. "How did you come by that name?" he demanded.

*

Worf recovered the moment he saw his captain trying to face the powerful machine alone. He used the spear to reach the actuation device - knocking it from the rocks into the clearing for Picard. It disappeared into the mist there.

*

The captain feigned its importance and ran to where it fell.

Data followed - until the Slayer blocked his route. Spike appeared also beside him and the Klingon too leapt down from the crag to face him. None of them looked particularly welcoming.

Picard stopped running. Data was distracted. It was the perfect opportunity to strike with the true weapon. He reached into his left holster... and found it empty.

He'd lost the weapon. Lost it in the mist somewhere. Maybe when Worf knocked him to the ground. He retraced his steps, feeling under the vapour with his feet.



The Slayer, the Klingon and the vampire faced their maniacal mechanical opponent and didn't spare a thought before striking.

But Data scattered them to the wind.

Spike leapt in first and tried to tackle the android at the waist. Data spun the bloodsucker and threw him into Worf - knocking them down. He turned quickly and palmed the Slayer in her nose - flooring her with the pain. Reaching down, he seized Spike's feet and swung him into the air.

Spike found himself crashing spine-first into a tree. He tumbled and hit the ground, losing all awareness.

Worf grappled him from behind - pinning his arms at his sides.

Allowing his feet to leave the ground, Data fell back and crushed Worf into the earth. He then smashed an elbow hard into Worf's head before rolling off of him.

The android stopped there a moment, finding an object hiding under the mist. He collected it and regained his feet.

The Slayer had regained hers also and she swung at him with her bat'leth.

He caught it with his free hand - which cut open and sparked. He tugged and flung her up into the heavens. She flew up with the sword in her hand and, as she plummeted back to earth, he kicked her.

Buffy was sent crashing into the rocks and disappeared over the far side.



*



Crusher knelt in the valley over the corpse of an officer and slowly removed the phaser pistol from her belt. She'd tried to restart his Munarian hearts but hadn't the tools present to initiate both at once. The Munarian race possessed a bizarre and unique physiology that often proved difficult to repair. It gave her little comfort when she held the gun. It was a terrible thing for a physician to have an energy weapon as part of her surgical kit.

Something approached them from the east, hissing and snarling, one limb hanging from its shoulder by a single tendon. Their sentry raised his rifle and shot the abomination down without pause.

"Doctor?"

Beverly regarded Nurse Bennett. "Check the PMP list. I think Ensign Uo is on there."

The young medic looked through the post-mortem procedures list in her small PADD. "Yes. Ensign Uo's people require his body to complete his circle of life ritual."

She replaced her weapon. "Remove the head," the doctor instructed woefully. "Bag him up and store the remains at the camp."



*



White light faded away and, when Giles and Anya's eyes had readjusted once again, they saw that Willow had changed. Her fiery red hair was now black and streaked with grey.

Anya, still holding the witch's hand, panicked somewhat. "Willow?" Then she saw her eyes were also changed. They were large, black, and filled with dark magic.

"It isn't Willow anymore," Giles called across to her. "It's the First Sorcerer." He turned his attention then to the spirit within Willow. "Um...hello?"

"Hi," came the reply. "You're late. I was expecting you sooner."

Rupert mumbled incoherently for a second before finishing: "Well...Let's get on, shall we?"

"HARK!" the Sorcerer bid loudly. "Thou shalt hear my words and heed their command! For I am Zjahar - son to Lucifer, and son of Eden! I that cast this first spell shall cast it again as my last!" - There came a ripple of the air throughout the room - "Ego ipse imperium concipio nassa cassesium!"



*



Captain Picard searched the floor of the glade frantically for his weapon but at his feet there was only mist. The grassy terrain was hidden from him.

"Is this what you seek, Jean-Luc?" Data appeared holding in his hand Worf's actuation device.

He stopped his obvious searching reluctantly and stood down before his enemy.

"You're phaser, Captain. I don't think you wish to use that on your precious Mr. Data. I'm sure Starfleet told you to kill him if you must. But we both know that you're not going to do that."

Picard removed the phaser from his belt and threw it down as indicated.

The being controlling Data's body raised one of his legs and crushed the weapon underfoot.

Picard gave the impression he was caught, but secretly he was still feeling the land with a foot.

"What shall be the most fitting way of terminating the existence of Captain Jean-Luc Picard?" Dark Data mused. "Because I am going to kill you. I shall toy with you until your bleeding and your breaking becomes tiresome to me. It's the least you deserve after the lack of respect you've paid towards me."

"If that is the penance I face for stopping one as depraved and maniacal as you... I welcome it." Picard couldn't get any more range with his feet. But he knew what he sought had to be around that spot. Looking down, he saw an opening in the mist. There, resting fortuitously in a clump of turf, he saw it.

The demonic parasite howled with laughter through Data's face. "Stopped me? I'm not going to kill you because you brought my depraved, maniacal scheme crashing to a fiery end. You can't stop me, you see, Jean-Luc. I am a formless, immortal spirit. I can't be killed. I can't be stopped forever. Every effort you have made, every life you have sacrificed today to this noble cause of yours... has been for nothing. All you have accomplished is to slow me down for a fraction of time. And, for that, you will die painfully."

Picard dropped slowly to his knees.

"Oh, Captain," Data marvelled. "Don't beg for your life. What am I saying? I know you! You'd never beg, would you? Is this your way of accepting your fate with grace?" Suddenly he twitched. He felt something. A presence. Something wasn't right. He looked around and saw no one. Yet he felt the effects of something...

Darkness looked to the sky above. He knew what he could feel. He'd felt it before.

It was the spell.

It was his brother.

Picard lowered a hand to the ground and gripped the virus-gun secretly. "I wouldn't say so." With that, Picard aimed the weapon at Data and fired a tag into his chest.

From the woods, Buffy returned with her bat'leth, checking her pouch for safety. She saw the gun in Picard's hand and watched as the android brushed away some kind of electro-tag. But she didn't know what was happening.

Darkness let out an amused huff. "What was that meant to do, Cap-?" The android cut off and began to spasm. "Zzzzzzzz-zz-zz....za... za za."

Data's entire mechanical frame went stiff and toppled back like a lead statue.

Every wound-up muscle in Picard's body finally relaxed. But there was no joy in what he'd done. He may as well have vaporised his friend.

Worf approached cautiously, circling the fallen android. His heavy brow furrowed at the sight of the prone body.

"He's dead." Picard got to his feet and stood over his second officer. "Every memory engram...every personality protocol... every part of who he is... may be irreparably lost."

"A computer virus," Worf concluded with a heavy heart and walked away.

Buffy could see their pain but she moved a few feet closer to be sure the psycho-bot was immobilised. Even with the android down and their pouches protecting them, Darkness still remained in some fashion without form. "Let's hope the spell works before-"

Data twitched.

Input polarisers fired up and initialised his reload circuits as the viral program attempted to reconstruct his personality matrix.

Picard and Buffy withdrew at once. Worf halted only metres away and turned back to see the android rising to his feet.

He didn't move. For a long time he didn't speak. Just regarded them with his large yellow eyes.

Buffy clasped her bat'leth with both hands.

The yellow tin man parted his lips. "...Captain... I am... malfunction..." With that he seemed to go blank and seize up.

It was Data. The true Data!

Buffy's mind exploded with a million thoughts all at once.

Willow's spell hadn't taken effect yet. She wasn't certain they could even pull it off. Darkness was airborne and at any moment it would return to the only soul-bearing body within reach - Data's. The super-human android with the strength to crush even her. And that was without the evil bloodlust of Darkness.

She realised she had no time. She could not allow Darkness to take Data again. He was too strong to beat. But a human... a human was still only flesh.

One fact gave her pause. Humans could not survive possession. When Darkness discards the body of a person, the process withers the host to a lifeless prune.

But, above all these other thoughts, one rang clearer and louder than any:

Death is my gift

Buffy fancied she saw a movement in the air - a ghostly apparition drifting across to Data's frozen form - and she finally thought she understood. All she had learned from Worf... The price she had to pay for the knowledge to defeat Evil...'Death will be my gift' It all made sense now. She was the Slayer and the fight was with her and Darkness. She had to face him herself in whatever way she could. Even if she had to sacrifice herself to do it.

Buffy tore the protective pouch from around her neck and, without further hesitation, sent it smashing into Data's chest where it ruptured - covering his torso with its glowing contents.

Worf observed this. He didn't truly comprehend the consequences of the action, yet he knew the pouches served as a vital protection against the parasite. He ran towards her swiftly, reaching for his own pouch. But, before he could remove it and throw it to her, he realised the chance had passed.

The Slayer's arms flung back and she dropped the sword, staggering as if hit by some unseen force.

Worf retrieved his spear.

Captain Picard moved around the girl with suspicious eyes. Her head hung low and her face sat veiled by hair. Nearby, Data stood immobile like some disturbing waxwork figure.

The Slayer's hands formed fists of pure steel and she craned her neck to face them.

Her face bore a frightening smile. Her eyes black as tar.

Buffy was gone.

*



The white light drew back and faded, revealing to Willow a beautifully vibrant landscape.

She seemed to be alone in that glorious place until her eyes set upon a figure waiting nearby. The female stood gracefully on a small wooden bowed bridge that arced over a modest crystal river.

Willow moved herself closer to the figure, marvelling at her surroundings. The colours and the sounds were so vivid and alive and the air felt so warm and brought sparkling tingles to the skin.

She recognised the girl on the bridge before she reached there. It was Tara. Visually at least. Garbed still in her radiant white gown with a glow that seemed to emanate from within.

"You're the Goddess, aren't you?" she asked as she stepped onto the overpass. "The Mother of Wicca?"

"I am the spirit whom guards over Nature and Earth," she confirmed in her angelic tone.

"About before...the spell..."

"That incident is of no significance now. You were not ready at that time."

Willow swept her gaze over the landscape once again with wonder. "Where am I?"

"You are between where you were...and where you will rest."

The Between room.

"It looks like paradise."

"On Earth, the Garden of Eden was paradise."

Will's brain suddenly twisted in all directions. "...If this is the Garden of Eden... and you are the Goddess of Nature and Earth... then this is your garden. ...And you are Eden...?"

"And you are a wise witch indeed."

"But - wait - why are you here? Buffy said you told the Sorcerer about me. Can you help? We need a permanent fix. That old spell won't hold the Darkness forever. If we can give him form - mortal life-"

"There is nothing I can do for you but keep you here for a time."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What are you saying? Are you trying to tell me you came here just to keep me entertained while I body-swap?"

No response.

"You're really not going to help us, are you?"

The Goddess rested against the rail of the bridge and looked out across the silver waters.

Willow was through stepping lightly. Was this the Supreme Being she drew her power from? This Goddess showing the strength and empathy of a lampshade? She wondered to herself if there'd been a typo somewhere down the line. Maybe they'd sent her the Goddess of wicker by mistake. "So what do you plan to do the next time he breaks out of his cage and decides to make with the fun-time?"

Still there came no reply from the Goddess.

"Fine. Don't answer those clearly morally testing questions. But you will answer me this:

How can I follow a Goddess who teaches us to bend over and take it up the ass?" She winced. Maybe that had pushed it just a little too far...

"What you ask is impossible," the Goddess replied at length. "Taking form as a mortal creature is a choice only he can make. He can not be put to death. Binding is all that is available to us."

"It's only impossible because no one tried it," Will retorted. "He had a mortal existence once. Before he went ectoplasmic. There has to be a way to give that life back to him."

"GODS DO NOT MAKE DEALS!" Tara roared at her with a static surge of air. "WE provide the paths and choices that can be made on the lower plains and our decisions are beyond the reproach of lesser beings!"

"Alright. Then I have just one question to ask you before I go back and at least try to do something." She looked out over the crystal water. "What you just said about 'lesser plains' and 'lower beings'... I can guess by the way you flaunt your sovereignty that being a deity with lowly mortals like me to look up to you is kind of important to you. So... When Darkness succeeds and destroys all our worlds... What will you be a God of then? When there's no nature left to protect? When there's no one alive to recognise your power and worship you?"

Willow turned from that heavenly paradise and walked back towards the place of blinding light. "The answer, by the way, ... You'll be the Goddess of /nothing/."

The Wiccan Mother Goddess directed her gaze to the determined young Witch.

She was wise and strong indeed. And with a powerfully logical capacity for reasoning.



*



The sombre calmness of the grassy dell cracked up and fell apart as the Darkness consumed Buffy's soul.

Worf rushed her with the hope of beating down flesh, but the Dark Slayer deflected the tip of the Klingon's lance and hammered a set of iron knuckles into his sternum. Worf lifted clear of the grassland and came down rolling in the distance. He came to a tumbling halt in the mist and tried to shake off his vertigo.

The soul-raped Vampire Slayer had big agonising plans for him, so she kicked her sword up into her hands and sent it spinning across the clearing - pinning Worf's braid into the ground.

She wanted to take her time with each one of them, one at a time. Starting with Jean-Luc Picard. She ripped the armoured grey pads from her torso, flexing with the freedom of the black bodysuit, and directed her attention to the rattled captain. "I promised you a painful death, Baldilocks."

Picard had no weapons. All he could do was hope to avoid her blows. If he could just anticipate her-

She spun in an instant and whip-kicked the startled man in the ribs - jolting him halfway across the glade - then feinted back at the waist to avoid the flying bat'leth from Worf.

The Klingon came swiping at her with the tip of his spear. She avoided his slicing actions well, knowing his moves, and the blade never touched her. But, for Worf, it was just a diversion. Because next he slipped in a good attack - one he didn't teach her - and she buckled to her knees.

The Slayer spat something at him and was about to get up to take him apart - when Data suddenly appeared behind her and seized her by the wrists.

She fought against his strength. "Release me!"

Data responded with his trademark passive indifference: "I do not believe that would be wise."

The Slayer struggled to free her arms from his unshakeable grip.

"Your physical power has limits," Data informed her calmly.

"So does /yours/!"

He tightened his hold on her until she groaned with pain. "It would appear your limits are far greater than mine."

Picard approached them cautiously, supporting his bruised ribcage. "Data? Are you...alright?"

His frazzled second officer inclined his head a little to one side and attempted to process. "...I am unable to locate my diagnostic subroutines... I believe the answer to your question...is /no/, Captain."

Ambassador Worf joined them and laid a hand across Picard's wound to test it. "They do not appear to be broken."

"Not yet," the girl uttered with malice.

Soon, Evil Buffy found herself trapped and surrounded by the entire Alpha Team. Spike had returned also with his spear and completed the formation.

She snarled at them all and was grieved by the lack of fear they displayed. They showed none of the awe that Darkness had instilled in the very hearts of men all those millennia ago. Perhaps deceit would prove the most effective tool. Rhamhal could see, through the Slayer's eyes, the hurt so clear on Spike's face. He knew the vampire's mind well enough to appeal to his weakness. "Spike... please... help me."

Picard looked to the dead man. "That isn't her, is it?"

Spike considered her for a long moment with a knotted stomach, mapping every facet of her beautiful features. He couldn't believe she had allowed this. Some part of him hoped she, as the Slayer, could somehow resist the possession. Then he saw her eyes. Darkness hid behind those angel eyes surreptitiously, but Spike was not so easily misled. "No. Buffy's gone," he replied sadly. "She's dead."

"No, Spike. Not dead. She's in me. This shell still holds her soul."

"Do you think I'm stupid? I know what happens when you're done with her. Next time you switch, Buffy's soul gets destroyed."

"It doesn't have to be that way, Spike. There is a way. I can be removed safely."

Spike put his spear to her throat. "Buffy knows I'd kill her now if it took you with her."

She smiled. "Liar."

"Rhamhal?" Picard appealed to her. "Why is any of this necessary? What can you possibly gain from all this destruction?"

Her eyes fell away to oily black. "My blood once ran pure with evil, Picard, and now it defines my spirit. The dimensions you inhabit torture me with the perverseness of their humanity... Your very existence - the way you creatures live your mortal lives - sickens me. I am without sustenance in this universe of yours and I aim to create a feast for myself. Chaos, destruction, suffering and torment are my nourishment. They are the things of /Hell/. And I shall bring Hell to every corner of-" She gasped suddenly and uncontrollably as though a knife were piercing her heart.

There followed an agonising crushing of the spirit - like being restricted in a cage of biting electricity. Rhamhal could feel the spell taking hold of him again as it had once before. He could feel his brother's stranglehold. The brutal tearing apart of his being. Binding... the terrible binding...

"You can't defeat me! You're all too WEAK!" he persisted malevolently through his Buffy mask. "Your magic can trap me... but it won't keep me forever!" A second shock wave struck his spirit.

At that, Data sparked and blew a gasket in his head, seizing right up. Even his blinkers went out.

The Dark Slayer cast her eyes back to him ... then to the three surrounding her with a sly grin.



*



Xander ran through fog. Ahead appeared the writhing clawing corpse of something once living. He zapped it without regard and ran on.

A hideous shadow appeared suddenly before him out of the haze. Yet, just as suddenly, it was cleaved by Martok's scimitar.

"I need to get to Buffy," said Xander in a wheezing breath. "The team. I have to find the team."

"Go!" the chancellor called back, signalling the path. "The rest of the way is clear!"

Freeman reached him and the pair ran out of the rising fog together, crossing the rest of the open valley, and into the murky forest.



*



Willow's eyes, the black in them beginning to fade with the magic, fluttered, as the Sorcerer seemed to lose his focus. She visibly deflated and slumped forward; the sorcerer speaking in a rasp through her lips: "The witch...she...is breaking my link..."

Anya looked to Giles to share her bafflement and the man returned it with interest.

"Hey, guys," came Willow's familiar tone. "I'm back. I took a little trip...ha. Forgot to bring back souvenirs. ...Actually... I think I'm kinda dizzy..."

Giles fought rising mortification that tottered on the fringe of anger. She'd just closed the door on their one chance at success and he couldn't believe it. "Willow? What are you doing?"

She stared at him with a heavy frown as she searched her jet-lagged brain for meaning. "Oh...yeah...that thing I was doing," she said finally. "Okay, I'm ready."

At once, Willow's hair and clothes burst to life - defying gravity and spreading aloft with a surge of energy - her eyes exploding with golden light.

The entire room fell under a mystical envelope of softened gravity that caused her hair to drift softly about her luminous face.

The flames of the 13 candles brightened and waved gently.

Anya signalled to Giles and whispered: "Is she supposed to-"

"SILENCE!" boomed the resonant voice of the witch. "I am working now."

Anya shut up. As did Rupert.

Willow's arms raised up to the spiritual heavens and the Mother Goddess, with all her power and will, summoned from within her in the ancient Aramaic language:

"Yâh! Rukha! mwâr-rakhu ârya dâyhudha!

'wid-dâyen âkh khâdh shweela dkhikh-khimthakh!

la déin khlap shuwkh, il-la khlap tishbokhta dghilyanakh!

mâlkuthéh dalaha lghaw minkhon wâkhdharâykonee!

ela patzan min bisha!

teyteh malkuthakh!

Bâytéh dalaha! Rkhâsh!

haw dlaw mishik-khana âkh dâwsogh-îa eethaw la mnâs ya... khub-ba wnuhra ikhol-khon...

ha mshâl-lâm! mâq:'âd!!"

Anya pierced Giles with a quizzical frown.

He replied with a dumb shrug.

*

The Slayer screeched and suddenly stopped squirming in the android's grip. Spike drew back from her and the two men soon followed.

She began to gasp. Within her, Darkness could feel his spirit being tethered. It was a tearing burning sensation. He could almost feel the noose tighten around his essence as it began to drag him into another realm of being. This wasn't right. The spell he knew was becoming something else. And he could no longer feel the hand of his brother behind it. He could feel...

"...No," the Slayer implored in horrified disbelief.

Pain stretched out across her face and Spike had to hold himself back. She began to convulse as a swirling cloud of oily black filtered out through her every pore.

Buffy screamed as Darkness passed out of her.

*

The Goddess Willow turned her golden gaze across to Giles. "I shall give substance to the airborne apparition," she resounded.

"Oh...righto," Rupert uttered. "Jolly good."

Anya nodded. "Yes. I believe I like that plan."

The Divine Witch cast down her commandments:



"Immortal Spirit, ruinous bane.

Living substance let ye regain.

Breath to lungs, body to soul.

Blood to vessels and flesh to bone."

*

Buffy and the Alpha Team watched in awe as the wheeling black cloud compressed together to form the shape of a man.

*

The Mother Goddess threw all her force into affecting her will: "Breath to lungs!" she decreed.

*

Darkness gasped air as organs began to mold within his ebony shape.

Body to soul!

The weight of physicality struck him in the form of bone and muscle. He writhed at the pain.

Blood to vessels!

Veins stretched out across his body and fed his members.

Flesh to bone!

His surface seemed to harden and grow into skin, from which fibrous filaments sprouted and formed hair over the new body.

*

"It is done." Willow jolted back into her own burned-out body and collapsed to the carpet.



*



Standing in the open patch of land before them, they saw the naked shivering and sweating form of Darkness; head shrouded by a black mane of hair.

Rhamhal's gasping lungs reacted to his new vocal chords and he let out an awesome beastly cry.

Caged in flesh for the first time in thousands of years, he lifted his hands before his eyes and regarded them in disbelief. He was looking at a violation of divine law. A travesty.

He could feel the air flowing around his reborn skin. The ground under his feet had sensation again. It was all so horrific. And he knew whom to thank. It was that witch. And the Slayer's merry bunch of do-gooders. ... The Slayer!

Buffy observed the dark bearded face of her enemy as he turned to her with the Devil's hatred in his eyes. She tried again in vain to free herself from Data's hands.

Even as severely pissed as he was at that moment, Rhamhal managed to find humour in Buffy's predicament. Right before marching up to her and slapping her so hard across her face she lost consciousness. Right then all he cared about was delivering painful death to the girl. But there were a couple of things he needed to do first...

Rhamhal ran across the glade and disappeared into the jungle.

"We need to finish him," Spike proclaimed.

Picard shook off his own bemused astonishment and gave Worf the order to pursue.

The Klingon took up his spear and raced across the clearing with Spike and the captain on his heels.

Something glittered ahead with movement and Worf stopped in his tracks suddenly - a stinging, burning sensation about his chest. Dropping his gaze, he found buried into his flesh a dozen poisonous barbs. Before he could move to act, his legs buckled and he folded onto his knees. His breath grew coarse before his thighs were overcome with numbness. Hinging forward, he collapsed face-first into the dirt.

Picard went to him and rolled him over.

Spike was so busy watching Worf's misadventure that it was too late to act by the time Rhamhal attacked him.

The vamp was knocked down and, before he could blink, a rock came crashing into his skull taking all his senses away. Rhamhal took the Klingon weapon from him.

Picard scrambled up to defend himself but met with the blunt end of the spear as he was jabbed in his stomach. That was followed by a harrowing fist to his bruised ribs - breaking a bunch of them with a terrible crack. Picard toppled. He was beaten into an uncomfortable sleep when the wooden staff came down across the back of his head.

The great Demon ruler Rhamhal approached Buffy - his primary target - with the lance in his hand. She was the most dangerous of his enemies. She had to be dealt with first. She was the one most deserving of pain. Also, she was the most trapped and helpless and unconscious, which helped.

He stood over her knelt and shackled form. Reaching out his new hand, he clenched her blonde tail and dragged back her head. "You think you are so special, don't you? Like some kind of Holy Messiah." He brought the spear tip up against her abdomen. "So be it," he whispered into her ear. "I shall gut you like Christ!"

Rhamhal drew the lance away.

Then he plunged it forward into her side.