Magic Town. As civilians, both human and demon alike go about their business, a swift breeze shrieks around them. From every direction, magic blue mist swirls, speeding with an almost‑intelligent urgency.

People stop. Some people get out of the way. For four corner blocks around the centre of Magic Town, the blue energy soars, reaching the centre at the same time.

The blue mist then concentrates and hangs silently, less speed but still moving, enshrouding the strange bronze statue in the centre of the Square. The statue with armour and a sword and that demonic face, with razor teeth.

The statue that just blinked awake.

Across town, in the townhouse owned by the Fairweather Sisters and their nephew Rupert Giles, Nadia Kureishi sits.

She’s been sitting, with her eyes closed, on the armchair, legs crossed, meditating. For hours now. Then, suddenly, surprising Fred Burkle, she opens her eyes — one dark brown, the other bright green.

“Something’s happened,” she states calmly, not looking at anyone in particular. Just staring outward, the sing‑song in her voice whispering.

“Something new with the magic,” she says, looking at Fred, concerned. She’s not sure what it is, but she feels it — something significant, of importance. “I don’t understand. I don’t even get a faint sense anymore. It’s like I’ve been cut off.”

Fred offers to take her back to Magic Town, where her people are probably worried for her. But Nadira refuses. She’s afraid.

“I used to be able to guide the Magic. But it’s getting harder. It’s like an adolescent acting out. Angry at the world and not even sure why. I never controlled it, but it listened to me. I thought we were like some odd pair of siblings. But I was wrong, we’re not siblings — the Magic is more like a tiger cub I found and raised. And it’s still a wild thing.”

A voice from the doorway interrupts her musings. Nitobe Warrior Eldre Koh stands in the entrance to the room, his arms folded and his voice full of wisdom.

“If you are afraid, then I will go with you. Let us face the tiger together.”

Elsewhere, at the police station, Inspector Brandt enters the building as his colleagues leave. They offer him a drink in the pub, but he declines, telling them he has paperwork to finish.

But opening the door to his darkened office, Brandt already knows what he’s going to find. As he enters the room, his desk lamp switches on, revealing Angel sitting in his chair, at his desk.

Brandt says his name quietly, unsure how to react. Angel just locks eyes with him.

And then, with a ferocity that belies his thin, slight form, Brandt leaps across his desk, fangs bared, his face wearing the visage of a vampire.

He knocks Angel’s chair over, his enemy with it, but Angel responds with a swift left hook, which pushes Brandt back.

Angel grabs the inspector, holding him by his throat from behind. “Inspector Brandt. So helpful. Cares so much about all the troubles we’re having in Magic Town. Even helps us track down Archaeus.”

He squeezes Brandt’s neck tighter, causing the vampire to whimper. “Told us right where to look. But you know what’s funny?” He whispers into Brandt’s ear, menacingly.

“What’s funny is how telling me where to find Archaeus is so similar to sending us into a trap. Odd how he seemed ready for us.”

Brandt sputters. “Can’t stand up against Archaeus. Too powerful.”

Angel tells him that there’s always a reason to give up. But Angel is going to fight anyway.

“You don’t understand. Archaeus isn’t just powerful. He’s smart. He learned from the setback you and Buffy gave him in California and his reach is far.” Angel, still gripping him, remains unconvinced. He’s just one cop.

As if on cue, more officers race through the door now, all with vamp faces.

In the middle of Magic Town, the bronze statue hasn’t just awoken — it’s begun moving, walking by itself. It seems unaware of the people around him until he sees a demon — she’s an old woman, just out, walking her dog. The statue, curious about the barking creature, picks the dog up, angering the woman. As she strikes the metal statue with her umbrella, it notices her presence and flings her to one side, the dog still in its arms.

In Brandt’s office, the inspector is grinning wildly as Angel battles his colleagues. He cannot resist taunting Angel, telling him that he had his chance — he was welcome back into the fold. He starts to rant about Angel, but his words are cut off quickly.

Looking down, he’s surprised to find a stake sticking from his chest. He’s dust in seconds, Faith behind him. “Frankly,” she says, clearly angry. “I’ve had a lot more experience with Angel’s stubbornness than you have.”

As he spins, Angel yells at her. “Why do people keep saying that? I think I’ve come a long way as a team player.” He dusts another vamp as he finishes, snapping a police baton in half and using the blunt side to kill another.

When the dust settles on the ground, Angel brushes himself off. Faith smiles.

“I know you wanted to see Brandt alone for some kind of vampo‑a‑vampo showdown, but I thought I’d check on you.”

Angel chuckles. That’s why they’re such a good team. “You know when not to listen to me.” He tells her that he’s grateful that when he slips up, he has her there to pick up the slack.

Faith laughs. “Are you telling me that Angel — THE Angel — admits he slips up now and then?”

He points at his chest. “Well. I am hundreds of years old. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” He wishes he’d been wrong about Brandt — they need all the allies they can get. Faith questions that if Archaeus had Brandt, who else does he have. Is he involved in government, or with army generals? But Angel thinks this is more personal.

“This is about taking over Magic Town. Archaeus thinks it will add to his power — and he’s probably right.”

Either way, he tells her, they’re on their own.

In his lair, Archaeus is approached by Drusilla. She lowers her head into a bow as she comes closer. “I am pleased to bring you good news, Lord Archaeus. Our gift seems to have been accepted.”

He grins through his sharp teeth and expresses his delight. He cups Drusilla’s face with his clawed hand and tells her that this is pleasant news — news that almost makes up for her failure to bring Angel over to their side. He warns her that it’s fortunate that he has such affection for his offspring.

Drusilla looks up at him, wearily. “Yes. So fortunate.”

He looks at her for a moment in silence, as if he has something else to say. Then he orders her to gather everyone together.

“AND THUS DOES THE FINALE COMMENCE.”

In the centre of Magic Town, the old demon woman is yelling for help. The statue is sitting there, holding the dog as if it’s a specimen. Some locals come to help her, but when the statue ignores them, they proceed to hit it with whatever they can — and they’re easily swatted aside.

This time, however, the statue gets up and moves to the civilians he knocked to the ground. He raises his metal foot to stamp on one, when Nadira’s voice yells through the clear night’s air.

“No. Don’t hurt him.”

She approaches the statue, looking up at it. “You’ve got to stop. They don’t understand. They’re afraid. Just like you are.”

The statue, its eyes fixed on Nadira, glowing brightly, starts to put the dog on the ground. “We’ll figure this out. Just like we always have. But first we can’t hurt anyone else. You understand?”

As the woman collects her dog, Nadira moves closer to the statue, open and cautious.

“I know how it’s been for you. How alone you feel. There’s no other being like you. And so you want to be like us. To talk and touch and breathe. I’ve sensed it in you. How out of place you feel. But this metal body — it’s a mockery of what you want. It’s fake. Okay?”

Her green eye twinkles at him, her green markings pulsating on her black skin. The statue’s eyes continue to glow.

And then the statue grabs her by her wrist, hard. Fred races forward, against Koh’s warnings, but it’s too late. Fred is brave, and determined to help her friend.

When the statue grabs Fred by the throat, everyone freezes — except Fred.

Her eyes glaze over. As the statue begins to squeeze the life out of Fred, there’s an unexpected shift in the air. A cold, icy blast that Nadira can feel straight away.

And in a ferocious burst of blue light, Fred is gone. Illyria, the Merciless, Old One of Primordial Earth, stands in her place, her fists clenched and her words demanding.

“Pathetic creature! You dare lay hands on an Old One?”

Watching, Sophie and Lavinia look at Koh, questioningly. “Oh dear,” Sophie says. “Is this better or worse?”

Eldre Koh doesn’t look at the sisters – or take his eyes from the Goddess in front of them.

“Much worse,” he exclaims.