Thanks Victor!

Thanks Victor!

No prob. Hope you enjoy,

Victor, I am loving it!!!

Victor, I am loving it!!!

Gracias. For awhile there, I was afraid I was boring people to tears.

For awhile there, I was afraid I was boring people to tears.

Not much chance of that. I am really glad you decided to continue this story. I'm really enjoying it.

No...it's interesting!

I really want to read the whole story!

In the City
Part Eight: Gone, but not …

They rode home back to the base in silence, although Amy insisted on riding shotgun and fiddling with the radio. Justine figured Oz must be deep in concentration to let her flip through channels—she had the impression that he was fond of his music.

For her part, Justine couldn’t get her mind off the boy. People around her knew things she didn’t. They told her as much, they weren’t even hiding it. Oz seemed concerned about how her memories would come back—told her it was best to let them come. Still…

When they returned to base, Justine and Amy followed Oz as he made his way through the hallways. Everyone kept saying the Initiative—whatever that was—was bigger. This was big enough for her. She couldn’t help but notice how warily the soldiers regarded them. Not just her—even Oz. Why did they think Oz was so dangerous?

She looked at the man. As always, his expression was utterly unreadable.

They came upon a door marked, “library.”

“Are we doing research?” Justine asked.

“We’ve got someone for that,” said Oz, plainly.

Inside was a lot more lush and expansive than other rooms she’d seen. Long rows of books lined the walls, and a large oak desk sat off to one corner. At the desk sat a lanky, older-looking man, writing in a ledger.

“Ah,” said the man. Justine took note of his English accent. “Daniel. Come by for a chat?”

“Ethan,” said Oz, and Justine noted the distrust in his voice. “We’ve checked out the scene.”

“There were skeletons,” said Amy, annoyed. “No one told us there would be skeletons.” “ I see,” said Ethan. “Were they lying still or chasing after you with sabers?”

“Briefcases, actually,” said Oz, all business. “Corporate zombie … things.”

“Ah, yes,” said Ethan. “Probably a defense mechanism. Sorry. Didn’t know.”

Justine regarded the man, and the way Oz interacted with him. Both she and Amy had done bad things. She knew this, and knew Oz knew this, but Oz didn’t seem to be overly concerned with that. This man, however, he seemed to hold this man in utter contempt, and only made the barest effort to disguise it.

She looked at Ethan’s wrist, and saw a metal bracelet with blinking green lights affixed to it. She looked at the man’s face, and saw he was watching her watch him.

“Do you like my accessory,” he said, cheerfully. “A gift from the U.S. Army.”

“Ethan’s a wizard,” said Oz. “Riley and Buffy caught him causing mischief up in Sunnydale. Riley thought the government was going to put him prison.”

“Instead, said Ethan, “they gave me a job. And if I wander too far afield from it, my wrist blows up.”

“All very ‘Suicide Squad,’” said Oz.

“But you didn’t come here to talk about me,” said Ethan. “Fascinating though I may be. No, you want to talk about the rip in reality.”

Justine stiffened at that. A vision flashed before her, Holtz leaping through a portal to another dimension. Swaddling something in his arms …

“For the past decade odd,” lectured Ethan, “a variety of ne’er-do-wells have used an excessive amount of magic for a variety of effects—destroying the world, changing the world. You name it. A good deal of this effort has centered here in Southern California.

“Young Daniel, here, for instance, vividly remembers a young girl named Dawn Summers, the sister of an old friend. A few years ago, no such girl existed. Someone rewrote reality to insert her into it. Likewise, more recently, our friends at Wolfram & Hart rewrote reality to extract someone from it. Giving that person an entirely new life.

“Connor,” said Justine, warily. She noted Oz looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Yes,” said Ethan, pleasantly. Moreover, in a short period of time, a number of beings which we can only refer to as “gods” have walked the Earth. One, named Glorificus, caused a great deal of trouble in Sunnydale. Another, whom the locals named “Jasmine,” was defeated while trying to impose an order on the world, at the expense of free will. I’m rather grateful for that one, actually. The last, (continued...)

( continues...) called only “the First Evil,” was defeated trying to create a corporeal form for itself, bringing an age of death and destruction to humanity. It was all very thrilling, I’m sure.”

“So what does all this mean to us?” said Oz.

“What it means, young Daniel, is that reality has become very, very brittle. Too many energies thrown around too close together. It created a sort of inter-dimensional circuit, if you will. This circuit was closed when another of the old ones—the gods, if you will— by the name of Illyria, was risen from its slumber in the Deeper Well, only to vanish assisting Angel’s final act: the destruction of the Circle of the Black Thorn, an act which not only swayed the balance between order and chaos,” Ethan was smirking now, “but also rained fire and brimstone and the armies of the damned down on him and his colleagues.”

“So they are alive,” said Oz.

“Possibly,” said Ethan. “very possibly. But, assuming they are, extracting them could prove very difficult. If what I’m seeing is correct—and it is—then they exist within a singularity, a moment repeating itself perpetually in time. Saving them may well doom the entire universe. And not saving them almost certainly will.”

“What do you mean,” asked Justine.

“What he means,” said Amy, surprisingly subdued, “is that, if we don’t close the singularity, it’ll eventually wear down the already thin walls between dimensions.”

“Smart girl,” said Ethan. “That’s exactly what it means.”

“So if we don’t rescue Angel…” said Justine.

“Then all the gods and demons,” said Ethan, “will be free to walk the Earth.”

Oz gulped.

“No pressure.”

Ethan!!!