“Go, go, go!”

Bob’s shout propelled the Slayers forward through the explosion that had shattered the door, all thirty of them armed to the teeth. The immortal came in behind them, weighted down with guns armed for demon killing and opened fire.

Demons and vampires fell under the assault and through the middle of it sprinted Spike and Xander, the two vampires moving through the chaff that remained like an oncoming storm. Bob and the Slayers followed them as they finished their own fights and the small force plowed its way through the building.

They fought and ran then fought again, sealing doorway’s behind them to prevent being ambushed from behind.

Five of the girls died fighting before they reached the floor that was the most defended – the one that protected the Hellmouth. Where the worst of the demons and the oldest of the vampires were.

Where the real fight began.

It helped that the whole bottom floor of the facility had been one big room with the Hellmouth in the center. Bob had specially come prepared for that with a bagful of grenades.

The immortal strode in first, Xander slamming the door shut behind him, and started unloading with a gun in one hand as he lifted grenades in the other. Reverberations from the explosions shook the group waiting and when they stopped the vampire threw the door open. Bob, looking worse for wear, came back through out of the smoke filled room slapping out small fires on his clothes, nodding to Xander, who dove into the smoke seconds later. As it cleared, the rest followed and they heard their leaders growl of, “We’re surrounded,” as clear as day even as they saw the demons around them.

“Good, good!” crowed a voice from beyond their surrounding enemies, which pealed back. The half-god that had begun the war grinned at them and waved before saying, “How nice to have you all…the immortal…”

Bob snorted and calmly reloaded his submachine gun with a new clip, a sound that rang hauntingly through the floor.

“…the vampire with a soul…”

Spike smirked, game face in place, and drew the broadsword slung across his back, making a few demons stepped back. Because, as they’d found out, the sword of the other Xander worked just as well on demons as vampires.

“…the girl who thinks she’s a warrior…”

Meri, the Scythe in her hands, stepped forward from her sisters and stood proudly as the oldest Slayer before the demons.

“…and the boy who lost everything,” finished the half-god, fixing his eyes on Xander. The vampire just stared right back, his head tilted slightly to the side and arms hanging loose.

But not then a half godling can stare forever into the insane, blood red eyes of the man every demon had feared since hearing of Sunnydale.

The half-god regained his composure, however, and spread his arms wide. “Welcome then!” he crowed. “Welcome to my moment of rejoicing. When I shall open the Hellmouth and become a god fit to rule this world!”

“No,” stated Xander coldly.

“No?” repeated the half-god, his handsome face confused, golden curls shaking. His face then contorted with anger as he roared, “You aren’t in any position to tell me ‘no’! Kill them! Kill them all!”

The demons surged forward to do their master’s will and the Slayers roared as one in defiance before they set to defend themselves with their strength and blades.

Bob stepped back then opened fire in careful bursts that went together with the girls in a deadly dance.

Spike, snarling, went careening into the demons, swinging the heavy blade in his hands with deadly accuracy.

But most terrifying, particularly to the half-god watching with a sneer, was Xander. The vampire had let several demons descend upon him as he calmly drew the two swords at his belt…then things had changed. He had turned into a blur of silver and dark clothes, streams of red following in his wake until there was a cloud of blood following him as he tore almost effortlessly through the demons.

Rage powered him through it all, making him an even worse opponent. He thought of all those that had died: his family, the good demons he had known that were slaughtered, all of the humans killed for sport or food.

He thought of all of them and the rage he felt at the losses made his limbs shake. His skin seemed to burn as he tore through another demon and he would hear the Rogue urging him on for more death, for more killing. And he opened the thin wall he’d erected between them and welcomed it again for the first time since he had fought to be separate from it.

The half-god staggered in fear as the vampire was suddenly before him, his eyes blazing with even more madness if such were possible. Xander cocked his head to the side then asked in an echoing voice, “Scared, little god?”

“Not of you!” he roared back, regaining some bravado. He could sense the Hellmouth starting to open up underneath them and smiled. Lashing out with his fist at the vampire, he grinned when the punch looked ready to connect.

Then he was on the ground in pain, his arm broken in three places in an instant.

“Godling,” snorted Xander above him, that echoing voice that was the voice he knew and one he didn’t sending shivers up his spine. “You’re worthless.”

“I will be a GOD!”

“No,” purred the vampire, crouching down. “The cards, I’m afraid, aren’t in your favor.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” growled the half-god. He scrambled at his pockets for something then hissed, “I can kill us all, the whole of this wreck of a city!”

“Do it.”

He blinked. Stared. And suddenly the world shrank to the two of them.

The vampire was daring him to finish his threat.

And he smiled as he realized finally why the demons feared him so. Why the dark powers behind Wolfram and Hart had called him into this world to start this war two decades ago.

They had wanted to see just how far they could go.

How far they could push him.

And that answer was here at the edge of the ever-widening Hellmouth.

Xander Harris, vampire and last remaining of the so-called Scooby Gang of Sunnydale, would go to the edge and over it if need be.

“Didn’t think so,” snapped the vampire, picking the half-god up by the collar of his shirt. He lifted him up and dangled him over the mouth of the portal to Hell, tentacles of something within slowly reaching up. “Since you opened it, you get to go inside. Hope you have fun playing god in Hell.”

The half-god laughed brokenly then said, “Oh, I will. And you still have no idea yet of what you face, Harris. Just wait. Just…wait.”

Xander sneered and the Rogue broke through fully for a moment, purring in its insane cackle, “Whatever it is, it ain’t got nothing on us. And we’ll be waiting.”

Then he let go.

As the Hellmouth closed with the one holding it open within, Xander urged the Rogue back just enough that he could be in full control again. It sulked, complaining that it never got to have any fun, and he shushed it.

The rapport of gunfire rang through the floor then all was quiet but for the panting breaths of those left standing and a few sobs from the injured. Bob let his gun hang back down by its strap and called across to Xander, “That it, kid?”

The vampire frowned, looking down at the closed seal, remembering the half-god’s words.

“…you still have no idea yet of what you face, Harris. Just wait…”

“No,” he replied mournfully. “Somehow, Bob, I get the feeling that we’ve still got a long way to go.”