The feeling in Buffy’s gut is seething anger — and rapidly growing hatred.

She’s staring over Willow’s shoulder at a picture of Ophelia Reyes, the recently appointed Secretary of Supernatural Affairs. Her stomach flips at the thought of Reyes sitting in an office somewhere, engineering all of this.

“She’s been in on every major decision since the attack on San Francisco. And she’s one of the few people who goes in and out of the Pandora Project regularly. She’s been masterminding this from the start.” Buffy turns to the others, fury etched across her face. But beneath it is something sharper: annoyance with herself for not seeing it sooner.

Willow tries to help, but her comment only twists the knife.

“I knew there was something sketchy about her when we met. She struck me as a true believer. One of those people who thinks anything supernatural is an existential threat to humankind.”

Xander confirms she was at the project early that day. Dawn adds she usually stays late. Meaning she’s still there.

Buffy smiles — a dangerous one. Spike warns security will be tight, but Faith just cracks her knuckles. They can handle tight.

Buffy addresses them all. “We just need to get inside. After that… if we screw this up, what happens next doesn’t really matter.”

Without another word, she reaches for her Scythe.

Later, the Scooby Gang crouch on a rocky ridge above the main gate of the Pandora Project. Xander has binoculars — and a Rambo‑style bandana that looks faintly ridiculous. He sighs and turns to Buffy.

“Did I mention they have a tank? A tank is not my idea of skimping on security. How are we supposed to get past that kind of hardware?”

Willow smiles, hands glowing with green, ethereal energy.

“Shock and awe.”

Her blast leaves her hand like a fireball, striking the centre of the compound’s main fence. Guards scatter, stunned — first by the explosion, then by Faith and Spike charging in. Willow floats above them, backing them up. Buffy shouts a warning:

“They’re just doing their job — go easy on them!”

Xander points frantically at the base. “Tank! Tank! Tank!”

The tank fires. The shell whistles through the air. Willow barely manages to throw up a shield in time. Faith whistles. “She comes in handy.”

Willow grins — then fires another spell, liquefying the equipment the nearest soldiers are using. Including the tank.

Buffy punches out a guard and barks, “All right. This has gone on long enough. Everyone, get inside!”

They move as one, sprinting through the gap in the fence and the hole blasted into the building. Xander and Dawn follow close behind.

“Based on my experience as an imaginary soldier, they’ve called for backup by now,” Xander says.

Buffy nods. “At least they can’t bomb the place without wrecking their own stuff. But we still don’t have much time.”

She turns to Xander and Dawn. “You two have the most important job.” They pull out their phones, camera apps open. As they head into the office from the other night, Spike warns he can smell humans.

They burst into the room and find Ophelia Reyes mid‑panic, barking into her phone for immediate backup. When she sees them, the fear drains from her face, replaced by a cold sneer.

Willow steps forward. “You made me an offer once. Now we’re making you one.”

Buffy raises the Scythe. “Talk. The truth about what you’re doing. How you’ve been pulling the strings this whole time.”

Reyes’s sneer widens.

“Me? Ha! Always one step behind, aren’t you? But that’s good. The only way we survive in a world with the likes of you is to be smarter.”

And then Buffy loses sight of her as a burst of green, unmistakably supernatural energy slams into the group and sends them crashing to the floor.

The blast has come from a glowing Joanna Wise.

“Thanks for coming. Saved us the trouble of tracking you down. Not that there’ll be anywhere to run, soon enough.”

Spike double‑checks with Willow. “That’s the bloody press secretary, right?”

Willow nods. “Slinging serious magic.”

Buffy wonders what a witch is doing pushing anti‑magic propaganda. Faith doesn’t care.

She launches at Wise, swinging her sword without hesitation. She’s shocked when the blade passes straight through Joanna’s torso — and the woman doesn’t react. Faith recoils.

Her blade has indeed sliced into the secretary… revealing wires and flesh, interwoven in a grotesque parody of a digestive system. Her guts are literally on display — and she’s grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

“See? Not a witch. Not like you, Ms Rosenberg. I only ever had a tiny bit of magic talent. So I looked into enhancements.” She pulls aside more of her innards, proudly showing them off.

Buffy realises the drained magic is inside her.

Willow thrusts her hands forward, shouting Latin. Flames erupt and slam into Wise — with no effect.

Wise laughs. “Now she figures it out! That’s right. I’ve spent years grooming my body to hold mystical energy. And guess where I’m going to get it?”

Before Buffy can process the question, Wise rockets forward, floating on raw magic. She grabs the Scythe — and Buffy with it — and hurls her aside. Spike leaps onto her back.

He sinks his fangs into her neck. Joanna grins.

“Do you know what it’s like to realise how insignificant you are? A taste of power is worse than none at all.”

Spike spits out something oily and recoils. Wise chuckles and fires a magical blast that slams him into a wall. He drops, unconscious.

“In a world where no one has magic,” she cackles, “she who does rules.”

Then she stops — because she’s suddenly wrapped in a coil of green mist.

Willow floats in front of her, fury etched across her face.

“Rookie mistake. Magic is about more than power.”

Blue lightning crackles from Willow’s hands. She fires, launching Wise into a wall.

“Experience matters. And you’re an amateur.”

Willow keeps firing, slamming Wise into wall after wall. Eventually, Wise drags herself upright.

“Point made,” she says — and fires Willow’s own bolt back at her.

Willow is caught completely off‑guard.

Wise smiles. “But there’s one thing I’m a veteran at. A spell I uncovered that changed everything for me. Zhaohuan Shenlong!”

Her chanting makes Xander look up from his safe vantage point. “Did she just say ‘Shenlong’?”

Dawn gasps and looks through the hole in the wall toward the bay. Clouds churn. Lightning forks downward. Even the sea looks angry.

And then the dragon — the same one that wrecked San Francisco — unfurls from the mist, roaring across the night.

“She’s the one who summoned it,” Willow confirms, firing another bolt. “And she’s doing it again.”

Buffy grabs Willow as Spike and Faith hammer at Wise’s shield. The witch’s magic field holds firm.

Buffy tells Willow she’s the only one who can stop — or even slow — the Shenlong. Willow refuses to leave her friends. Buffy orders her.

Before she goes, Willow grips Buffy’s shoulders.

“You’re right. But first, there’s a source of power you can draw on too. All the Slayers.”

Buffy stares, confused.

“You shared what made you special with all the potential Slayers. That power has grown in them. I can reverse the spell. Put it back in you. The power of thousands of Slayers.”

Buffy shakes her head. “But they’d be powerless. Faith would be powerless.”

Faith, still punching the shield, sighs. “Not my first choice, but dying is a hard pass. And we need a Hail Mary.” She nods. “Do what you gotta do, B.”

Buffy nods at Willow. “Do it.”

It takes seconds. Willow grips the Scythe; Buffy holds the other end steady. A bright white glow envelops them. Faith shields her eyes. Spike turns away. The glare becomes impossibly bright — then vanishes.

Buffy stands in the centre of the room, Scythe raised overhead.

“Okay,” she says, exhaling with a grin. “I could get used to this.”

She doesn’t waste time. “Willow — dragon. Go.”

Willow flies off, muttering about how weird their lives are.

Joanna Wise looks up from inside her field and lowers it. She fires a bolt of purple energy that sends Spike and Faith flying.

“You powered up?” she cackles. “Good for you. I’ve been doing that for months.”

Buffy swings the Scythe. It slices through Wise’s field like paper. Joanna stares, stunned.

“You cut magic? How?”

Buffy grins. “Girl power. Lots of it.”

Wise’s shield flickers. She’s desperate now.

“Rain of death!” she screams, unleashing a torrent of purple energy that makes Buffy cry out.

When it stops, Buffy looks down at the scorch marks. They’re already healing.

“That hurt… for like, two seconds.”

Wise narrows her eyes. “Now I see. Everything you can do is supercharged.”

She reshapes her magic into a suit of transparent purple armour. “I can do a lot more.”

Buffy is already charging.

Spike pulls Faith toward Xander and Dawn. “Reckon all we can do right now is watch.”

Faith scowls. “Yeah, and it majorly sucks.”

Out at sea, Willow has a magical net around the dragon — but it’s too strong.

“I can’t hold it,” she whispers. She looks back at the city. She knows it won’t help, but she screams anyway.

“Everyone run!”

Inside Pandora, Wise lands a lucky punch that rattles Buffy.

“You’ve got the power of what — thousands of Slayers? Well, I’ve got the power of witches…”

She grabs Buffy’s wrist. Buffy loses her grip on the Scythe.

“The power of werewolves… demons… and thousands more.”

She snatches the Scythe and swings, knocking Buffy to the floor. She holds it above her head.

“Let’s see who’s stronger! Let’s see if I can break this toy and beat you to death with it!”

Buffy glares up at her. “There’s your problem. You want to know what you can do.”

Buffy kicks off the ground, flipping upward. She grabs the Scythe above Wise’s head, swings around it, and slams into Wise from behind.

“I already know.”

Buffy dodges another blow. She’s in her element now.

“I’ve been doing this all my life! While you were sitting behind a desk!”

Wise’s field collapses. She begs Buffy to stop.

Buffy doesn’t.

“I know I’m strong!” she shouts, smashing the Scythe into the last of the shield.

Wise panics. She blasts a hole in the wall and flees into the draining room. The device has been modified — now it resembles a cannon.

Faith realises what she’s about to do and sprints after her.

Wise hurls them back with another spell. “There you are,” she says, aiming the cannon.

Xander watches in horror. Dawn keeps filming.

Wise presses the button.

A streak of red light — like the one that surrounded Willow and Buffy — fires into the sky and hits the dragon. It roars.

Wise cackles, eyes glowing orange, red lightning crawling across her skin. She drains the magic from the cannon with a demonic grin.

“Why let the dragon have all the fun…” she asks, eyeing the Scoobies.

“…when you can do it all yourself.”