Watching the dragon reel in pain, fiery orange light burning across its scales, Willow Rosenberg stares at the creature and wonders aloud if she caused it. Lightning streaks around her. The dragon roars in agony. Willow looks down and sees the orange beam draining the creature of its magic — and it’s coming from Pandora.

“No. I didn’t,” Willow whispers, wishing she could stop the dragon’s pain for even a moment. “But I have a bad feeling I know who did.”

Inside Pandora, hands still wrapped around the cannon controls and bathed in that same orange glow, Joanna Wise has officially left sanity behind. She cackles into the air, drunk on the power coursing through her.

“So this is what it feels like to be a god!”

Buffy and Spike, across the room, try to reach her. Spike shouts for Buffy to go for the machine.

Buffy slashes it with the Scythe. Spike races past her, tackling Joanna away from the cannon, energy crackling around them. Faith surges forward from the doorway, but Xander and Dawn hold her back.

“Faith, you lost your mojo when Buffy went Uber‑Slayer, remember?”

“I might not have if I’d known how much sitting on the sidelines would suck.”

Faith’s attention snaps back as Wise magically hurls Spike backward into the machine. Joanna hasn’t stopped laughing. She advances on him, hands blazing with power.

“Idiots. I don’t need all the dragon’s power. I’ve got more than enough to wipe the likes of you off the planet.”

Spike spits at her feet. “Go on, then. Reckon I’ve had a better run than I deserve.”

Buffy races toward him, shouting his name. She throws herself forward, Scythe first, into the blast meant for Spike. The blade barely holds the energy back. Some slips past her — and Spike’s side erupts in purple flame.

He screams like he’s never screamed before.

Faith doesn’t hesitate. She tears free of Xander and moves. Buffy reaches Spike’s side. He’s badly burned, but alive.

Faith lifts him. “I got him, B. You use our power to kick her ass!”

Buffy smiles. “Deal.”

She turns without another glance and charges Joanna again.

“The power of a thousand Slayers against a force of nature?” Wise cackles.

“And a grouchy witch,” Willow says, appearing out of nowhere above them. She fires flame at Joanna, sending her stumbling. Buffy swings the Scythe. Joanna suddenly finds herself fighting off both Slayer and witch, her field barely holding.

“Not enough,” she taunts. “Not even close!”

Willow glances at Buffy, breathless. “I used too much energy with the dragon. I don’t think I can stop her.”

Buffy asks where the dragon went.

“Fell into the sea,” Willow says, dodging another bolt.

Buffy ducks under a blast. “Remember when we drained our power in Tibet? And all we wanted was to get it back?”

Willow freezes — then her eyes widen.

“Oh.”

A beat.

“Oh!”

She rockets out of the compound and into the night sky.

Wise laughs, assuming Willow is fleeing. “Nowhere to run, girl. I’ll find you and end you…” She fires another blast at Buffy, barely held back by the Scythe. “…as soon as your ‘bestie’ is a pile of ash. Won’t take long.”

Willow doesn’t hear her. She’s already over the ocean. She looks down at the churning water — and fires a beam of light straight into the black depths.

Inside Pandora, Wise is still holding her own.

“I’m impressed,” she admits, firing again. “You might just make it to me.”

Buffy pushes forward, step by agonising step.

Then Joanna swings — and gets lucky. Buffy is disarmed. The Scythe skitters across the floor.

“Of course, the big question is… then what?” Wise sneers. She kicks the Scythe away and lifts Buffy by the collar. Buffy’s right side is smoking, her hair charred, her skin burned and bruised.

But she’s not done.

In answer, Buffy kicks her in the head.

Wise staggers, surprised. “So much effort for a kick to the head? I barely felt it!”

She charges her hands with purple energy. “I think we’re all ready for this to be over.”

The lights flicker. The compound shakes.

“I think you’re right,” Buffy says, smiling.

Joanna turns — and freezes.

The Shenlong Dragon looms in the shattered wall, jaws open wide.

Wise screams defiantly. “It’s mine now! I’m never giving it up!”

Buffy moves fast. “Okay.”

She kicks Wise straight toward the dragon’s mouth.

“You can both keep it.”

The dragon snaps its jaws shut. Swallows. Snorts smoke.

And it’s over.

Buffy, still smoking, limps toward the dragon, hand extended. “Who’s a good dragon?” she asks.

The creature stares at her, unimpressed, then turns and flies out into the San Francisco night — over the skyline, over the bridge, disappearing into the distance. The clouds part. The waters calm.

Buffy leans on Dawn for support. She doesn’t want to think about what she looks like. But they’re all alive.

It’s time to go home.

A few days later, Buffy is watching the footage Dawn and Xander filmed — Joanna Wise, Press Secretary to the President, revealed as a magic‑using threat to society. She’s amazed they managed to keep most of their faces off camera. Dawn had been worried about legal consequences, but Spike tells her he doubts they’ll have to worry now that Wise — the architect of the magic‑draining tech — ended up as dragon food.

On the news, the President addresses the nation. He promises that all involved in the Pandora Project and its treacherous deeds will be punished. He smiles, then introduces two people standing beside him at the podium.

“Going forward, my administration is reviewing all policies regarding the supernatural, under the supervision of the heroes who exposed the conspiracy — Riley and Samantha Finn.”

The Finns stand at ease beside the Commander‑in‑Chief. The President praises their distinguished service record.

Xander scowls. “I love how we didn’t get any credit.”

Dawn loops her arm through his. “That’s how we wanted it.”

“Well sure,” he mutters. “But they could’ve, I don’t know, waived your student loans.”

Spike, hands heavily bandaged, struggles to open the fridge. Buffy has cut her hair around the burned portion as best she can — she looks almost punk rock, and she’s decided she’s rocking it. She tells Spike he’s making her crazy and moves to help him.

As she grabs his beer, Spike muses that now, after all the attention, the supernatural is slipping back into the shadows. “And if I’m honest, it probably feels like that’s how it should be, to both sides. Natural order, isn’t it? My kind the predators, yours the prey. And you slaying the predators.”

Buffy opens the can and holds it for him. “I know where to start if you don’t take better care of yourself.”

Spike growls that he’s not an invalid — then asks her to hold the can closer.

Dawn smiles. “Well, it’s not exactly like things were before the great Hellmouth collapse. You can’t undo what happened. The world knows about the supernatural now.”

Xander nods. “Yeah. Magic’s kinda like Times Square. It’s one thing to wax nostalgic about when it was dangerous and punk rock, but the reality of it being that way again is gonna take some adjustment.”

Upstairs, Willow is finishing a Coven meeting. She’s just restored the magic she took from the girls in the Safe Zone. She apologises, but they understand — she did it to keep them safe. No one is angry.

One girl asks if Willow is still going to teach them. Willow hesitates. She’s not sure it’s wise. “There’s no way of knowing they won’t come after us again.”

The Coven member places a hand on her shoulder. “So? I’m Black. You’re Jewish. There’s no guarantee we won’t be persecuted for that either. Is that a reason to stop being who we are? Who we want to be?”

Willow smiles. “No. That’s when it’s most important.”

Feeling steadier, she walks them out, arranging to meet again that weekend. As she’s about to close the door, new visitors appear.

She looks them up and down with open disgust. “Oh. What do you want?”

Inside the apartment, Buffy is called over. When she reaches the door, she almost swears.

“What the hell are they doing here?”

Standing there — looking pitiful, stripped of all their former bravado — are Jordan and her group of ex‑Slayers.

“We’re not here to fight,” Jordan says, hands raised. “Not like we could anyway. All our Slayer strength is gone. Not hard to figure out where it went. You have it now, don’t you?”

Buffy studies her.

“You’re right. Which, given how you treated us when you were guarding the Safe Zone, makes me wonder what you’re thinking coming here. What do you want, Jordan?”

Jordan swallows. Buffy already knows the answer, but she wants Jordan to say it.

“Summers… what do we have to do to get it back?”

Buffy stays silent.

Jordan continues, voice cracking. “I know you can. You did it for Faith. I heard she saved some club kids from a gorgon last night. Making us go through life like this — knowing what we had, what we were — it’s not right!”

Spike starts to shout, but Buffy stops him before he pops his stitches. Willow offers to get rid of them, but Buffy says it’s her call.

Buffy steps closer, looking Jordan in the eye. “I’ve been where you are. Not long ago. Willow and me both. I know how you feel. But losing my power made me see I could be strong without it. It was good for me.”

“Easy for you to say when you’ve got it back — and ours besides!” one Slayer snaps, stepping forward. Jordan shuts her down.

“Leave it. She’s the one who shared the power in the first place. Would you do that again after what we did to her?”

Buffy shakes her head. “Hold on. When I shared the power, part of the reason was because it made me just one of thousands. And I kind of wanted that at the time. Being ‘the Chosen One’ felt like a burden.”

She takes Willow’s hand. Spike wraps an arm around her.

“Not anymore,” Buffy says. “The life I’ve had, the friends I’ve made… being a Slayer is only part of that, but it’s an important part.”

She lifts the Scythe. “Willow. Give it back. All of it.”

Jordan’s eyes widen. She beams. “I swear, we’ll use it right! To protect people!”

Buffy glares. “You’d better. Because being the Chosen One doesn’t feel like a burden anymore. You misuse the power, you answer to me. And I think we’ve seen that’s not something you want.”

Jordan promises — though her eagerness betrays her. She asks when they can do it.

Buffy turns to Willow. “How about now?”

Willow smiles. Light bursts from the Scythe.

In seconds, Jordan and the others gasp as their pulses quicken — their powers return.

“You’re welcome,” Buffy says. “Now get out of my apartment.”

Jordan nods. “I’m not going to pretend we’re friends. But we’re not enemies either.”

“That’s up to you,” Buffy replies. “Good luck. I mean that.”

The Slayers leave as suddenly as they arrived. Buffy and Spike find themselves alone in the kitchen.

“You sure you did the right thing?” he asks.

“Yeah,” Buffy says. “The power was too much. I didn’t have the right to keep it. Honestly? I always planned to give it back once I’d healed.”

Spike tilts his head. “I didn’t mean the power. I meant taking on the mantle again. The Chosen One. The world’s protector. That’s caused you problems before. And like you said — it ain’t like you have to.”

Buffy smiles. “Yeah, I kinda do. I mean, sure, it can be scary and stressful. But I do pretty good with scary and stressful, don’t I?”

Spike takes her hand. “I’ll give you that.”

“And it can also be wonderful. That’s why I’ve got you.”

As the sun sets, the nightlife comes alive. Young people dressed up, clubbing. Families reunited after weeks apart. A city breathing again.

On a busy downtown street, a nightclub opens its doors. By the end of the evening, chaos has ensued inside and the bouncer opens the door with a clang. He throws two drunken frat boys out of the club and they stumble along the sidewalk. Watching from the shadows is Vicki the Vampire.

A few nights later, the Scooby Gang are on the roof again. Xander mans the grill. Dawn has made salad. Giles sits on the ledge, talking to Faith.

“I missed quite a bit, didn’t I?”

“Sounds like you had enough going on, G.”

“Yes, well. I’d just as soon take my mind off it. Tell me more about this hybrid magic technology.”

Across the rooftop, Spike explains that most vampires have crawled back into the shadows. Except Harmony, who’s all over social media — she’s been out of the country the whole time.

Buffy notes that Calliope hasn’t been seen since the Safe Zone. Willow says she hasn’t come to meetings — which she can’t blame her for. “I need to find me a lesbian vampire with a soul who’ll bring me food even though she can’t eat.”

Spike hands Buffy a plate. “I can eat, actually,” he tells Willow. “It just doesn’t taste like much and makes me ill if I have more than a bit. To be fair, Harris’s cooking has that effect on most.”

Xander turns in mock outrage. “You’re gonna eat my Vampy Cat spatula if you don’t show more respect to the chef, pal.”

Willow laughs and wanders off to debate steak temperatures with Xander. Buffy and Spike settle into lounge chairs. Buffy tucks into her burger. Spike unwraps enough fingers to hold his drink.

“I didn’t forget, y’know?” Buffy says, looking out over the city.

“Forget what?” Spike asks.

“I love you too.”

He strokes her cheek with one careful finger. She pulls him close and kisses him deeply.

Everything else can wait.