Full Circle

Buffy cocked her head slightly, scrutinizing Willow with her penetrating green eyes. The Witch still loosely clutched a dagger in one hand. Blood spilled from the incision she had made in the other, which continued to stream into a small wooden bowl sitting on a pedestal. Recognizing her friend at last, the Slayer lowered her arms, placing them at her side.

Willow tried to catch her breath. She felt a sense of relief when the Goddess she had summoned had lowered her arms, but was still stunned that the Goddess looked like Buffy.

“Buffy, is it… is it really you?” she asked, baffled. “I mean, I was trying to summon the Goddess of Love and War and… ”

“I am she,” answered the Vala Queen, cutting off the woman’s words.

Willow’s eyes remained wide. “Wow! I mean… wow!” Her eyes surveyed the Goddess standing before her, dressed in a long, slinky white toga with silver serpent-looking bands wound up each arm. Bejeweled rings adorned every finger. Around her waist was a belt from which little weapon charms hung.

“You’ve bled enough,” remarked the Valië, watching as the Witch’s blood continued to gush into the basin.

“Um, oh, yeah,” replied Willow, still a bit dumbstruck by the surprising arrival of her old friend. She set the dagger down, before searching her pockets for something to staunch the flow.

“Here, let me help you,” offered Buffy, gently grabbing hold of her friend’s arm and easing her to her feet.

“Thanks,” the Witch responded, still awed by Buffy’s presence.

The Slayer took Willow’s injured hand in hers, staring at the mortal woman’s life force as it pooled within her palm. Leaning closer, (as her friend looked on incredulously), her tongue touched the wound, intent on healing it with her “magical” saliva.

The very moment she tasted the blood, something incredible happened. The Veil of Concealment that had been placed on her ages ago was ripped away, revealing all of Maranwë Luinil’s memories of the past, even to the very moment when she had sprung from Eru Ilúvatar’s essence with Námo. All the events of her “life” flashed in her mind, playing like a movie in fast-forward. As she ran her tongue along the incision, everything became clear. Like an epiphany, she now understood her true purpose and why the Valar feared it so.

With the wound healed, she raised her head, searching the eyes of her friend. The redheaded woman looked the same, but a little older. “Willow,” she said, as her lips curled into a wide grin.

“Oh, Buffy. You’re back! You’re really back!” The Witch threw her arms around the neck of the Vala Queen, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Their feet knocked over the implements on the altar, as the Valië wrapped her arms around Willow.

“We thought we had lost you,” continued the woman, as the irises of Buffy’s eyes went from green to black, “and were afraid to bring you back in case you were in heaven again.” Something then dawned on Willow. She pulled back, as the Slayer’s eyes returned to normal. “Oh, no! Buffy, I didn’t pull you from heaven, did I?”

The Vala Queen gave a quick smile. “It’s okay. This time, you were supposed to.” She cupped the Witch’s cheek, looking upon her with even greater love and admiration. “This moment was meant to be. Call it destiny if you like.” She gave another quick smile before pulling her hand away. She then turned, looking at the opened portal across the room. “I guess we need to go through there, huh?” she added, her face now grim.

“Oh, Buffy, I need to fill you in on everything that’s been going on since you left,” began Willow, speaking rapidly, as she stepped beside her friend. She then paused for a moment before continuing, “Um, should I call you Inanna Ishtar, or… er… ”

The Slayer glanced at her companion. “Call me Buffy. It’s what you’re used to.”

“Oh, okay,” she nodded. She then tried to brief the Vala Queen on the horrors that had transpired in the world since the destruction of the Cleveland Hellmouth.

Buffy held up her hand, stopping the Witch. “There’s no need, Will. I pretty much know what’s going on. I may have lived on another plane, but I still kept my eye on the goings-on in this world.” She turned her gaze back to the portal. “I know what needs to be done,” she added solemnly.

She stepped toward the gateway, already knowing what waited on the other side. Willow followed behind. The Slayer took a deep breath before entering the portal. The whirling energy engulfed her, but she remained composed as she came out on the other side into a windowless chamber where a battle was taking place between young girls, presumably Slayers, and men dressed in Bedouin garments.

Her eyes scanned the rather large, dimly lit chamber, the only light coming from torches affixed to the stone walls. Nearly twenty Slayers, and a few men, (Watchers, perhaps?) were fighting against roughly three dozen men armed with their traditional weaponry of scimitars and spears.

A few of the turbaned men lay on the floor, unconscious. It seemed apparent to Buffy that the Slayers were still following the rules of engagement - not to kill humans, unless in a life or death situation. While her personal stance on that had changed over the years, she kept out of the fray, as her eyes continued to survey all the players within the room.

From the shadows, she could hear the voices of several women, chanting in unison. Her eyes shifted to their cloaked forms. Sensing their powers, she knew that they were Witches who, more than likely, were members of The Coven that aided the Watchers, at need.

Their focus was on the lone man, a beautiful man, standing in the center of the room, protected by an invisible shield. From Buffy’s angle, she could clearly see his profile. To her, he was the personification of perfection, resembling a statue of great beauty that had come alive. He was tall, dark and handsome, the three characteristics that she found most attractive in any man. Her heart skipped a beat, as her eyes lingered on his attractive form. She could perceive that his powers were great, far greater than all those in the room (other than herself), combined.

The man stood at the centermost point of a pentagram. The symbol looked to be part of the original flooring. The smooth, black rock that formed the icon contrasted with the light grey stone that predominately made up the rest of the chamber. An altar had been set up on the western point of the star. Whirling grey smoke from burning incense rose into the air, resulting in the air being stuffier than it normally would have been.

There was something special about that place, familiar even. Buffy was able to discern that that place was holy, that it exuded powerful, ancient magics. She could feel it emitting from deep within the earth, and from the stones that made up the chamber. It then occurred to the Vala Queen that that structure where she now found herself was located on the Holy Mount, the location of the very first temple of Eridu ages ago.

“He calls himself the Enlightened Leader,” Willow whispered in her ear. “He’s the head honcho of the Unified World Government.” She paused, her face a mask of worry. “We think he might be the Anti-Christ.” She then turned her eyes to the Coven. “We’ve been trying to break through his mystical barrier, but haven’t had any luck, yet.”

A sudden yelp diverted Buffy’s attention from the so-called Enlightened Leader to a Slayer that had just been impaled through the shoulder by a spear. The force of the strike was so strong that the weapon had lodged in the wall. The man that wielded the spear positioned one of his feet against the wall, hoping that it would give him the extra leverage he needed to pry the weapon free.

The gravity of the situation hit the Valië like a ton of bricks. The injured girl couldn’t have been over sixteen, at most. Some of her sisters-in-arms ran to her side, cold-cocking the culprit that had managed to get in a lucky strike.

As the Slayers helped the whimpering girl, Buffy took a few steps forward.

“Stop,” she uttered, her voice seemingly lost in her throat. Though she spoke in a mere whisper, everyone in the room halted, mid-motion. At this point in time, the Vala Queen’s powers were at full force and even a simple word had a great effect.

At that moment, nearly all within the chamber turned their eyes to her, finally noticing her arrival.

As Buffy turned her gaze from the injured girl to the Enlightened Leader, a voice broke the stillness of the room by saying, “Oh my God, isn’t that Buffy, Buffy Summers?”

“It is!” another shouted. “She’s back! Buffy’s back!”

The man within the Bubble’s eyes lit up when they fell on the Vala Queen. His lips curled into a broad smile, revealing gleaming, straight white teeth.

“She arrives at last,” he said gleefully, revealing that he had a twinge of an Eastern-European accent. The handsome man stretched his arms out wide, in a welcoming gesture. “I’m glad you could make it, Inanna. I’ve grown quite bored with the action here.”

“Why’s he calling Buffy Inanna?” one of the Slayers asked.

“Who the hell is Inanna?” voiced another.

The man’s gaze momentarily shifted to the frozen observers within the room. While the occupants could speak freely, they were unable to move, due to the Vala Queen’s magics.

“Leave them be, my good men,” the Enlightened Leader said to his turbaned followers. “I no longer have any need for entertainment, as our star attraction has just arrived.” He nodded toward Buffy when he spoke those last words.

The man overrode Buffy’s magics, allowing his followers to make their way to the opposite side of the room from where she was standing. They then put their weapons aside and dropped onto their knees, bowing so low that their foreheads touched the cool, stone floor.

The Valië looked bemusedly at the scene. She assumed that they were holy men of some sort, but had no idea to which House, if any, they belonged.

“They’re Imams of the mosque in which we now stand,” disclosed the Enlightened Leader upon seeing Buffy’s baffled expression.

“Mosque?” repeated the Vala Queen in her confusion.

“Yes, mosque,” he answered with a roll of his eyes. “But that’s of little importance at the moment. We have bigger things to deal with.” He waved her over. “Come, Mother. I would think that you’d greet your own flesh and blood in an appropriate manner.”

From behind, Buffy could hear the others’ murmurings, shocked that the demon that had inflicted such misery onto the world had addressed one of their own, a fellow Slayer no less, as “Mother”.

The Valië stepped forward, stopping just outside the Bubble. She lifted her hand, touching the invisible barrier. Instantly, it crackled with energy, before a doorway opened. She passed through. The mystical Bubble then sealed itself shut, locking her inside with one whom she had come to recognize as one of her demonic offspring with Melkor Bauglir.

He then offered his hand, not moving from his spot on the pentagram.

Buffy inched closer. Taking his hand, she sidestepped the smoldering altar, stopping before the one whom ancient texts referred to as “The Destroyer.”

“It’s been a long time, Inanna,” he said, gallantly pressing his lips against the top of her hand. “Far too long.” With a lascivious look in his eyes, the demon looked the Vala Queen up and down.

His lustful inspection was not lost on the others.

The Vala Queen then reached out, running her fingers through his fine, dark hair. “We meet again, at last, Abaddon,” she said in a low, husky voice.

The handsome demon frowned. His free arm shot around her waist, pulling her forcefully against his body. Holding her tightly, he hissed, “You know the rules, Mother! We’re never to speak our true names.”

Buffy pouted at his reproachful words.

Abaddon’s eyes lingered on her parted lips.

“Does it really matter, especially now?” she asked, a wry smile coming to her face. She lowered her hand to his cheek, affectionately caressing his smooth skin.

“It is sacred law!” he whispered sharply.

“I’m sorry, honey,” she answered coyly, placing both of her hands on his muscular shoulders. “Maybe,” she continued, drawling out her words, “Maybe I can make it up to you.”

“Mmm,” he sounded in reply. Abaddon arched a brow as several thoughts ran through his mind, each more wicked than the last.

Buffy continued to stare into the demon’s eyes. “But don’t you think we should do what we came here to do? Hmm.” She slowly moved her hands down the length of his upper arms. “I deem it’s time to bring Daddy home,” she cooed.

That brought a smile to the demonic offspring’s face. “Almost time.”

To everybody’s surprise, Abaddon then kissed her, and not a little affectionate peck, but real tongue on tongue action. The unpleasant sound of their wet kisses echoed within the chamber.

“Didn’t he call her Mother?” someone asked, as the others watched the scene in shock and disgust.

“I don’t get it,” said a totally flummoxed Willow. “What’s she doing?”

“Will, what’s going on?” asked a panicked Xander, stepping out from behind a small group of Slayers. “Is that really Buffy?”

“I think so,” she answered apprehensively.

“But I thought you were gonna summon the Goddess of War,” he continued.

“I did!” she replied, facing him. “Buffy is the Goddess of War.” She raised her brows in doubt. “Unless her body’s been hijacked by some demon along the way. Things like that can happen, you know.” She gulped.

Xander turned his eye back to the Bubble, watching as Abaddon’s hands ran over Buffy’s backside. “What the hell are we gonna do?”

“I don’t know,” answered Willow with a shake of her head.

Xander furrowed his brow. “Who’s Daddy?”

“Huh?” replied Willow, turning her gaze toward Xander again.

“Daddy. She said it’s time for Daddy to come home. Who is that?”

“I don’t know. A demon, I guess.” A look of fear came upon Willow’s face, as she turned toward the couple making out within the Bubble. “Oh, crap! I hope it’s not Satan!”

“Satan?!” exclaimed Xander, freaking out. “You mean there’s a chance that his Unholiness is gonna make an appearance?”

“Well, all signs seem to point to that. Right?” she said in dismay.

“Man, we need to talk to Giles. Quick!”

“You go. I’ll stay here.”

“I can’t leave you here… ”

“I’ll be fine, Xander. Just go. Before it’s too late.”

Xander knew by the tone of Willow’s voice that she was firm in her resolve and wouldn’t budge one bit. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze and said, “Be careful.” He instructed a couple of Slayers to accompany their wounded sister back to headquarters. Seconds later, he, along with three girls, disappeared through the portal.

The Slayers left behind remained frozen, staring at Buffy and Abaddon with their mouths agape.

The Imams of the mosque now rose to their feet, chanting something in their native tongue.

Willow was unable to understand what they were saying.

“Keep going!” she then ordered to the members of the Coven, who had stopped chanting. The women resumed their attempts to bring down the mystical barrier.

The couple within the Bubble broke apart from their kiss, yet still remained in their embrace.

“Who is it that controls my Holy Mount?” she asked Abaddon, breathless from their kiss.

“Israel,” answered the demon, slowly running his fingers over her naked shoulders. “Though, at their indulgence, the Jews allow the Muslims to maintain their mosque.”

“Hmm, guess that explains their presence,” she replied, eyeing the Imams in the room.

“We are in the bowels of the Dome of the Rock,” added Abaddon.

“Not for long,” she snickered.

“Then you are ready to begin?” he queried excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. Let’s get this show on the road,” she answered.

As the others looked on in confusion, the Imams and the Coven continued their chants.

Abaddon and Buffy went over to the altar where he took one of her arms into his hands. He straightened the appendage, surveying it with his keen, dark eyes.

Recalling a passage from an ancient text of prophecy, the demon said, “And the honor of breaking the Sixth Seal fell onto her son,” his incisors grew into fangs, “who would bring the world one step closer to its Doom.” Abaddon then sunk his sharp teeth into her delicate flesh, piercing the veins in her arm.

Buffy took a deep intake of breath when he broke her skin. She then let out a throaty moan, which sounded orgasmic to the other occupants.

Abaddon withdrew his fangs from her flesh, allowing her blood to flow onto the altar within the pentagram. The moment that first drop of blood splattered onto the stone floor, the earth beneath their feet began to tremble and shake.

The Slayers, Witches and Watchers let out a startled cry.

“Earthquake!” someone yelled.

“Oh, God,” moaned Willow, trying desperately to keep it together. “It’s the Apocalypse.”

A section of the floor on which Buffy and Abaddon stood, began to slowly rise. The circle of the pentagram was a completely different piece of the flooring, about two feet thick and eight feet in diameter. Beneath that was what appeared to be a thick block (approximately seven foot square), but was actually a box, of the whitest marble that anyone had ever set eyes upon.

When the marbled box had completely broken the surface, the rumbling stopped. An eerie silence followed, a silence that one could only assume was the proverbial calm before the storm. That was no understatement either, for that day had been long in the making, and even the Wisest had foreseen it ages before.

The Vala Queen stomped her right foot, and the uppermost slab of stone literally crumbled to dust. The impact did not disturb the implements of the altar, which merely settled onto the marble slab after the outer shell’s destruction. She and Abaddon then lowered their heads, and with only their breath were able to blow all the tiny particles off the marble case. The inside of the Bubble resembled a snow globe, the dust whirling around before settling onto the floor.

“Come,” the demon said, motioning to his Imam followers, who were now able to pass through the mystical barrier.

The Slayers remained frozen, watching the spectacle with a morbid fascination. They had no idea what was happening, and were beginning to doubt that Buffy was really Buffy. On the other hand, Willow still had faith in her dear friend, hoping that she had something up her sleeve.

“Slide it off,” ordered Abaddon.

A few Imams gathered at one end of the box and began to push the heavy marble lid despite the fact that the demon and Valië continued to stand on it. The only sounds heard within the chamber were the grunting of the men and the stone cover scraping the ridges of the box. Even the Coven had stopped their chanting, as they too were fixated on what was going on in the center of the room.

When the lid was halfway off, Buffy reached down and snatched a shimmering blue cloth out of the box. Instantly, the room filled with a brilliant gold light. She and the demon were giddy, smiling and laughing at whatever was hidden within the marble container. They then leapt off the top onto whatever was housed inside.

Before the Imams could slide the cover off the box and onto the floor, one of their kindred grabbed the bowl of incense, holding it in his hands as if it were some sacred vessel. The marble lid crashed to the floor, breaking into several pieces, and stirring up the dust which had settled there.

The Vala Queen and her cohort then kicked out the sides of the box, letting them smash to the floor.

Many gasped in awe when the object came into view.

Buffy and Abaddon stood atop a box, their feet straddling the outstretched arms of two golden figures, each grasping the other’s hands. From the looks of it, one appeared to be male, the other female. The container looked to be about four feet by six, with some type of ancient script scrawled onto the sides. The entire thing was made of gold; the bedazzling light from it illuminated the entire chamber in its radiance.

The Imam holding the bowl then stepped forth. Abaddon then guided the Vala Queen’s bleeding arm over the basin of burning incense. The moment her life force hit the container, the contents began to sizzle, the grey smoke turning jet black. The fumes became thicker, swirling around at the couple’s feet, slowly moving upward, and shadowing out the radiance of the glittering golden container.

The Imams formed a tight circle around the golden box. Turning their gaze toward the ceiling, they began to chant a phrase in their native tongue over and over again. The black smoke whirled about the couple, looking very much like a mini-tornado. The Imams’ voices grew louder and louder. The dark mass then shot out of the room, moving through the upper levels of the mosque until it left the structure altogether.

Most inside the bowels of the holy shrine were not yet aware that that cloud would spread across the skies, covering the entire world in darkness.

Once the blackness had escaped from the lowest chamber of the mosque, the Imams stopped their chant and the golden light filled the room once again.

“And so it begins,” said Abaddon happily as he went to heal his Mother’s wounds.

“No,” she said, stopping him. “Not yet.”

The demon looked at the Valië with a puzzled expression. “I don’t understand.”

She gripped his arms.

“What are you doing?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in his confusion.

“Shh,” she sounded. “We’re not finished.”

The Vala Queen looked over her shoulder. “Go!” she ordered to Willow and the others. “Hurry!”

“Buffy, I don’t… I don’t understand,” stammered the Witch in her confusion.

“Don’t you know what this is?” asked an incredulous Buffy, motioning toward the box on which she was standing. She then quickly regained her hold on Abaddon.

Willow shook her head.

“This is the Ark of the Covenant.”

Willow’s jaw dropped, as the gasps from the Coven filled the room.

“Believe me; you don’t want to be around when this thing goes off… ”

“Goes off?” repeated Willow, her bottom lip quivering.

“Just go!” Buffy shouted firmly. She didn’t want to tell the others that among other things, the Ark of the Covenant was a nuclear device. “NOW!”

As soon as Buffy had said that, the Slayers, Watchers, and Witches made a beeline for the portal, wanting to get out of the room as quickly as possible.

Willow hesitated, reluctant to leave her friend behind. Her eyes scanned the many Imams that remained steadfast around the Ark, and their brethren who still lay unconscious on the floor. “What about them?” she asked, referring to the holy men.

The Vala Queen’s eyes shifted to the men. “They’re on a holy mission. They’re fated to be here.” She turned her gaze back to the Witch. “But you aren’t. Go!” she added in a commanding voice.

“But… but I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’ll catch up with you later,” said Buffy with a look of determination on her face. “But you have to go. Please, Willow!”

The Witch gave a reluctant nod of her head before hurrying into the portal.

Not wanting to take any chances, Buffy herself closed the portal behind Willow with merely a wave of her hand. Her magics were so great now that none could stop her.

The irises of her eyes then went from green to black. She narrowed them. The Vala turned toward the Imams encircling the box. With her gaze alone, she struck them down, one by one, their throats ripping open as if by some invisible blade. Blood spurted from their wounds spraying, not only the Ark, but the couple standing upon it.

“I don’t understand,” cried Abaddon in dismay. “Mother, what are you doing?”

The Imams fell to the floor, one after the other, clutching their throats in an attempt to stop the jets of blood that squirted from their necks. They rolled upon the debris-covered surface, gurgling for breath. Only seven survived her onslaught, untouched by the magics she wielded.

The Valië shifted her eyes from the carnage within the chamber to her demonic offspring. “My blood was only the first part of the opening of the Seal, my dear boy.” She cupped the demon’s cheek with her blood-splattered left hand. “They were the second… And, you, honey, your blood is the last part.”

Before Abaddon could react, Buffy punched her right fist through the demon’s chest, probing for his still beating heart.

The demon stared at his mother in disbelief, his mouth agape. The Enlightened Leader was unable to speak. He groaned in agony, feeling his powers diminishing.

“You’re the lamb, sweetie,” she cooed softly, her fingers finally gripping the organ within his chest. “And I’m the lion!” She yanked his heart out, blood squirting from the severed veins and aorta as it continued to thump within her enclosed hand. “You are my holy sacrifice, the Key to the Door of Night.” She then flung the demon aside, his body landing with a dull thud on top of a couple of dead Imams.

Tilting her head back, she held the bleeding organ over her opened mouth, drinking the life force of her evil offspring.

As she gulped down his blood, from the corner of her eye she saw the black shadow of Abaddon’s fey rising from his hröa, trying to flee without her noticing.

“Uh-uh-uh,” she sounded, fixing her gaze on the phantom image of her evil offspring. “Come to Mommy.”

Before the demon spirit could escape, Buffy drew a deep breath. The force of it was so great that Abaddon’s fey was pulled backward. His spirit entered her pursed lips, where he became trapped as a prisoner within the Vala Queen’s body.

Breathing heavily from the rush of power from her offspring’s spirit, his heart slipped from her grasp, landing on the Ark. With her body trembling slightly, she lowered her arms, keeping them inches from her side. The knot of her toga then came undone and the gown slipped off her body and came to rest at her feet. She was naked except for her prized jewels.

The Imams averted their gaze, as a red protective covering began to materialize over her flesh, starting at her feet, and moving upward until her mystical raiment completely covered her nakedness. The blood of Abaddon that had covered parts of her flesh had been absorbed by her skin, bestowing upon her even more of the essence of his father, Melkor Bauglir.

She then turned her dark eyes to the remaining Imams standing before her. “Okay, boys. Time for a game of ring around the Ark. Seven times! Circle the Ark seven times, sounding your trumpets after each lap.” The Vala Queen smiled in triumph. Her time had come at last.

As the Imams began the final part of the ritual, the Slayer turned her gaze toward the heavens. Her Vala eyes were able to pierce through the structure, and the darkness that now blanketed the sky above.

The trumpets sounded for the first time.

Searching beyond the heights of Ilmen, she locked her gaze on the bright star, Eärendil.

The trumpets sounded a second time.

The immortal half-elf stood at the helm of Vingilot, guarding the Door of Night.

The trumpets sounded a third time.

Buffy then slowly began to raise her arms from her sides.

The trumpets sounded a fourth time.

As she moved them, a red vapor rose from the pools of blood on the floor.

The trumpets sounded a fifth time.

With a blow of her breath, an even darker red mist escaped her lungs and merged with the other, forming the shape of a blood-red arrow.

The trumpets sounded a sixth time.

The moment the palms of her hands collided over her head, the blood-red arrow shot out of the room like a rocket, exiting the mosque and speedily traveling toward its intended target. Smiling, Luinil watched as the mystical missile raced toward the Walls of the World.

“Soon, my love. You will be set free,” she whispered, knowing that Morgoth could hear her even though a vastness of space separated them.

The trumpets sounded a seventh and last time.

And with that sound, several things happened at once.

Buffy vanished as the Ark of the Covenant detonated, sending a mushroom cloud over the Holy Mount, obliterating everything and everyone within a several mile radius.

The explosion seemed to propel the blood-red arrow at the speed of light. The mystical dart went through Eärendil, killing him instantly. The first star, the Silmaril, plummeted toward the Earth, as the arrow continued on until it struck the Door of Night, blasting it open. At long last, Morgoth and his demonic armies were freed from their prison.

As the wrathful Dark Lord and his followers began their descent into the world, the remnants of the arrow spilled over the moon, turning it blood red. Those that lived in the parts of the world where the tendrils of darkness had not yet reached saw that as a sign that they were witnessing the End of Days.



Only a few moments after these things (among others) had begun to happen, Buffy reappeared in a wood-paneled chamber that had become the control center of the Watcher’s Council within Lindon Hall. Dozens of people were gathered in the room, anxiously talking, as they stared at the wall of television screens. Four rows of ten TV’s were broadcasting news from different countries. Most of the images depicted the blast at Mt. Moriah, an event that had set off a chain reaction in the Middle East.

Israel surmised that one of its foreign enemies had staged the assault, and acted in like manner by setting off their own nukes against Iran and Pakistan. Those two countries, particularly Iran, deemed that Israel had blown up their holy shrine, The Dome of the Rock, and in turn, waged their own nuclear attack on Israel.

Iran, who had not yet perfected their guidance systems, inadvertently sent one of their nukes to Poland, an act that would soon have Eastern and Western Europe deploying their nuclear arsenals into the Middle East.

While World War III had been underway for well over a year at that point, this was the first time that nuclear weapons had been used. No nation comprehended that a lone Vala Queen, an ancient Goddess from mythology, was behind the act that started it all, that she been the one to unleash hell on earth.

Buffy cleared her throat, alerting the others of her arrival.

They spun around, their horrified faces looking at the Vala Queen with utter contempt.

Willow, in tears, narrowed her eyes at the Slayer. “You started this. Didn’t you?”

“Did I?” responded Buffy, folding her arms across her chest. “Exciting, isn’t it?” she asked, her eyes scanning the destruction displayed on the many TV screens.

“Who the hell are you?” spat Xander, standing protectively in front of Willow. “You’re not Buffy. She’d never do anything like this.”

The Valië laughed. “Oh, Xander, Xander, Xander,” she said, shaking her head. “I didn’t do this. Willow did.”

“What?” cried out the Witch, stepping beside Xander, who held his arm out protectively before the redheaded woman. “I… I didn’t do this,” she stammered through her tears.

“Oh, yes you did,” answered Buffy. “You brought me back into this world so that I could fulfill my sacred duties - to rid the world of evil.”

“Dear Lord,” said Giles, rising from his chair. “This is… this is Armageddon, isn’t it?” he stammered.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Don’t you people know your history?” she sighed in apparent annoyance. “Armageddon is a place, a place. Jeez, you should know better, Giles.” She paused, allowing the tension to build up. “This, my friends, is the End of the World, as we know it.”