Judgment Day (BtVS/Terminator)

[AntonioCC]

BtVS. Judgement Day 2.0 Chapter 1​

Disclaimers: I don't own anything at all here. Everything is owned by their respective owners

Spoilers: The entire Buffy and Angel series (I'm ignoring the comics). Terminator up to Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.

A/N:Corrected a mismatch with the times.

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She watched the LA skyline, then saw the flash. She knew she was dead.

Her skin began to burn, but somehow she could still see, watching from outside her body as the ashes became scattered into the air.

The shockwave destroyed even that, and in the distance, mushroom clouds rose, others following suit.

The final apocalypse had come.

When the ashes settled, she saw survivors stumbling between the ruins. And then, she saw them—gleaming, skeleton-like machines armed to the teeth, slaughtering anyone they found.

J-DAY Minus Two. July 23, 2004
Rented Flat, San Francisco
06:48 (Pacific Time)​

Buffy Summers woke up with a start.

"Okay, that's a first, even for me," she muttered to herself. "I usually get warnings about mystical apocalypses, not human-caused ones."

A sudden scream from the other bedroom cut through her thoughts.

"Dawn!" she yelled, jumping out of bed and rushing to the door.

In the next room, Dawn was breathing heavily, her face pale with fear. Whatever woke her had been bad.

"What happened?" Buffy asked, still catching her breath as she swung the door open.

"A nightmare… nuclear holocaust… killer robots…" Dawn managed between gasps.

In a heartbeat, Buffy was by her side, pulling her into a hug. For a moment, Buffy considered lying, telling her it was just a bad dream. But they'd made a promise after Sunnydale: no more lies.

"Okay, that's freaky. I just had a dream about a nuclear explosion in LA—and, yeah, killer robots too." Buffy tried to sound casual, but Dawn looked at her sharply.

"You don't think…?"

"Slayer dream, and you caught the edge of it? Wouldn't be the first time." Buffy gave a small shrug. "But we should check if any of the other girls had the same dream. Then call Giles."

Cleveland, Ohio. Jenny Calendar School for Talented Girls.
Giles' Office
10:01 (Eastern Time)​

"A nuclear apocalypse, you say? And killer robots afterward?" Giles repeated, speaking into the phone with Buffy. "I'll ask Rhona and Shirley when they wake up—they just got back from patrolling the Hellmouth and collapsed into bed. But, I must admit, we've both seen enough to not dismiss this out of hand."

"Yeah, my own squad of mini-slayers is still out cold," Buffy replied. "Giles, if the worst happens… I assume the old Council had some sort of plan in place for this?"

"...for nuclear war? Yes, actually. It'd be wise to start activating those contingencies, just in case," Giles said, his voice grave. "How are things in San Francisco?"

"Pretty good, all things considered. The mini-slayers are a handful, but it's nothing compared to how Sunnydale used to be." Buffy paused. "I'll call Faith next, she's patrolling LA with her squad."

Los Angeles.
07:10 (Pacific Time)​

"Yeah, Silvie and Nat dreamed about the chrome skeletons, too," Faith said over the phone. "Maria and I got the big flash. If I hadn't seen it..."

"Yeah, I know. Feels like something straight out of a movie," Buffy replied. "Can you reach out to some of Angel's old contacts? See if the demon community's picked up on any signs of an impending apocalypse?"

"I'll try, B. But no guarantees, they're not exactly eager to chat with me these days."

Washington, D.C.
10:40 (Eastern Time)​

Riley and Samantha Finn were ushered into the office of Brigadier General Robert Jackson, the current officer in charge of the Initiative.

"General," Riley said, standing at attention.

"Sit down, Lieutenant Finn. Mrs. Finn." Jackson gestured to the chairs across from his desk.

"Thank you, sir," they replied in unison.

"I assume you're wondering why your unit's been put on alert," Jackson began, leaning back in his chair.

"Yes, sir," Riley said. "To be candid, we've been trying to figure that out."

Jackson slid two photographs across the desk. One showed a scruffy, young man in his early twenties. The other featured a tall, muscular man in black leather, sunglasses on, holding an assault rifle in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other.

"The young man is John Connor," Jackson said. "He's tied to the destruction of Cyberdyne Systems' main factory in Los Angeles, back in 1995. After that, he gained a reputation as a hacker. He disappeared in 1997, but the FBI recently picked up his trail again. They believe he's behind the virus that's causing widespread problems across the country."

Riley and Sam exchanged a look. Riley leaned forward slightly.

"Sir, I'm not sure I see where we come in..."

"If that were the extent of it, you wouldn't," Jackson interrupted. "The older man in the second photo is why you're here. He's been seen with Connor and his mother, Sarah Connor, who died seven years ago. Two decades ago, this man launched a killing spree, targeting every Sarah Connor listed in the Los Angeles phone book. He even assaulted a police precinct where Sarah Connor, the real one, was in custody."

Sam frowned. "I take it that didn't end well, sir."

"It was a massacre," Jackson said flatly. "He killed every officer in the building. Sarah Connor only survived because a paranoid drifter who'd been stalking her helped her escape. That drifter was later found dead at an industrial plant, and Sarah… well, she was never the same after that."

"What do you mean?" Riley asked.

"I mean she started ranting about some future war against an AI after a nuclear apocalypse," Jackson explained, a hint of disdain in his tone. "She mixed with militia groups and mercenaries, preparing for some war that never came. Eventually, she tried to blow up Cyberdyne Systems and ended up in a psychiatric hospital."

Riley sat back, absorbing the information. "And the man? What happened to him?"

"He vanished," Jackson said. "Until 1995, when he resurfaced as John Connor's bodyguard, after John's foster parents were killed, under brutal, mysterious circumstances, according to police reports. This man also helped Sarah Connor escape from the asylum."

"And then came the Cyberdyne assault," Riley noted.

"Exactly. Since then, no one's seen him." Jackson's eyes narrowed. "But if he's still with Connor, you need to understand something, Finn: this man isn't human. Eyewitnesses say they've seen him take point-blank blasts from a shotgun and get back up, like nothing happened. Even the Hostage Rescue Team would be outmatched."

Riley and Sam exchanged another glance, this time more concerned.

"Your task," Jackson continued, "is to support the FBI in their operation to capture Connor. But there's more: there are unconfirmed reports from the Cyberdyne assault of a chrome-looking, metamorphic entity pursuing the Connors. We don't know what it is, but it's worth noting."

"Sir, about the apocalypse..." Riley began cautiously. "What if—?"

"Hogwash," Jackson interrupted sharply. "The so-called 'Judgment Day' was supposed to happen back in '97. Didn't happen. I wouldn't lose sleep over it."

Riley didn't respond, but his expression remained troubled. Samantha's, too. They weren't convinced. Something didn't add up, and they knew they needed more information, soon.

San Francisco International Airport
08:38 (Pacific Time)​

Buffy pulled Willow into a tight hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. After Willow, she hugged Xander and then Kennedy. While Kennedy was far from Buffy's favorite person, she had to admit the black-haired Slayer had matured since Sunnydale's destruction. And Buffy did owe her one, Kennedy had been the first to notice something was off with the Immortal, beyond Buffy's usual bad-boy phase.

They exchanged pleasantries as they walked to Buffy's car. Once inside, and on the way to Buffy's flat, it was Kennedy who broke the ice.

"And before you ask, Buffy, yes, I had that dream about the nuke and the killer robots too."

"God, my squad of minis had it, too," Buffy said, shaking her head. "Kyomi nearly wet the bed. I've already asked Giles to activate the old Council's nuclear war protocols, just in case."

"Good thinking," Xander chimed in. "But... something about killer robots after a nuclear apocalypse rings a bell. I swear I've heard it somewhere before. Let me think on it."

"I talked with Giles, too. He told me that Rhona and Shirley had dreamed that too." Willow said, "As soon as I can, I'm going to summon a spirit and ask some pointed questions."

"That would be after we take a shower, Wills." Kennedy said.

"Sarah!" Xander said, snapping his fingers "That was her name, Sarah Connor."

"Who is Sarah Connor?"

"A crazy lady that was hanging out with one of Uncle Rory's veteran friends. When she had drunk a few beers, she started to talk about a future war against an AI and its killer robots after a nuclear apocalypse." Xander said, "It sounded like crazy stuff at the time."

Los Angeles
Caritas Ruins 10:28 (Pacific Time)​

Faith pushed open the battered door of Caritas, now a shell of its former self. Dust hung in the air, and broken furniture littered the floor. In a dim corner, Lorne sat alone, nursing a half-empty glass.

"Didn't think I'd find you here," Faith called, stepping over debris.

Lorne looked up, his usual flair dimmed. "Well, if it isn't my favorite leather-clad troublemaker. What brings you to this dump?"

"Got some questions. Thought you might have answers." Faith slid into the booth across from him.

Lorne raised an eyebrow. "You're not here for karaoke, are you?"

"It's about dreams. Everyone's having them, Slayers, witches, even me. Nukes, robots, cities burning. Feels like an apocalypse is coming."

Lorne's expression turned serious. "You think they're prophetic?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out. Can you help?"

Lorne leaned forward. "If I'm gonna read you, you have to sing."

"Here? Now?" Faith groaned.

"Yep. Sing something, and let's see what's going on inside that head of yours."

Reluctantly, Faith cleared her throat and picked a song she hadn't thought about in years…"I Will Survive." Her voice was rough but determined. Lorne listened intently, his expression shifting as he focused on her aura.

When she finished, the silence weighed heavily.

"Well?" Faith asked.

Lorne's gaze softened. "Honey, I wish I had better news. These dreams? They're a warning. A bad one."

"How bad?"

"End-of-the-world bad. Cities in flames, machines hunting survivors. This isn't just another demon; it's bigger than that."

Faith's heart sank. "There's always a way. We've faced worse."

"Not like this. This feels final." He hesitated. "From your aura, it's already in motion. No stopping it."

"Guess we'll just have to fight harder," Faith said, determination hardening her voice.

Lorne smiled sadly. "You're gonna need more than Slayer strength for this one." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Be careful. It's playing for keeps."

Faith met his gaze, resolve solidifying within her. "So are we."

Lorne nodded. "And Faith? Don't wait too long. Time's running out."

Buffy's Flat . San Francisco, 10:35​

The room was dim, candles flickering in their designated spots, and a strange design chalked on the floor. Willow sat cross-legged at the center, her voice rising and falling as she began to chant. The others watched, tense and silent, as her tone deepened, resonating like the voice of doom. Finally, with a crescendo that seemed ready to shatter the windows, the chant reached its peak.

A smoky figure materialized before her, swirling in the air.

"You have summoned me to answer a question, but first, you must answer mine," the entity intoned.

Willow nodded, ready to comply.

"Tell me: you can see me, yet I don't exist; I need light to be, but I am darkness. What am I?"

Willow paused, contemplating the riddle.

"A shadow," she finally replied, her voice steady.

"Correct. Now, ask your question."

Willow recounted the dream descriptions Buffy and Dawn had shared. The being considered her words, its form shifting slightly.

"If I had known your inquiry would be of such significance, my price would have been higher. The future is dark and grim. Come with me if you wish to know more." It extended what appeared to be an arm. "Touch my hand, and I will lead you to the one who can explain the dream."

After a moment's hesitation, Willow reached out and grasped the entity's hand. Instantly, her vision faded to black.

When her sight returned, she found herself in an empty, white expanse, disorienting and featureless.

"Disorienting, isn't it?" A female voice broke the silence.

Willow turned to see a blonde woman in her thirties, her expression stern and resolute.

"Who are you?" Willow asked, bewildered.

"I am Sarah Connor."

"Sarah Connor… small world, isn't it? My friend Xander met you a couple of times." Willow said, surprised at the coincidence

"Doesn't ring a bell, sorry. I hope you didn't summon me just to say that."

"No, not at all. Some of my friends have prophetic abilities that come to them in dreams, and… well…" Willow began to describe the dream: the nuclear explosion, the killer robots, everything.

"They did it. Damn them to Hell," Sarah replied, anger simmering beneath her calm exterior. "When all of this started, I was just a waitress…"

As Sarah recounted her story, detailing the grim future that loomed ahead, time slipped away. Hours passed outside, but for them, it felt like mere minutes.

"I thought we had finally ended Skynet and the Terminators when we blew up Cyberdyne. But deep down, I sensed we hadn't cheated fate; Judgement Day was still waiting for us somewhere in time."

LAX . 12:51 (Pacific Time)​

Riley and Sam disembarked from the plane, collected their baggage, and were greeted by two stereotypical FBI agents, one older, one younger.

"Riley and Samantha Finn?" the older agent inquired.

"I am Riley Finn," he replied.

"And I'm Samantha Finn," she added.

"Special Agent Rover," the older agent introduced himself, gesturing to his partner. "This is Special Agent Ford. We're in charge of capturing John Connor."

After brief introductions, they headed to the parking lot and climbed into the agents' car. The engine roared to life, and they pulled out onto the road.

"I understand you're part of a special ops unit here to support the HRT and local SWAT in capturing Mr. Connor," Rover said as they drove.

"Yes, that's correct," Riley confirmed

Slayer's LA Flat – Los Angeles, 13:30 PM​

The flat was in chaos, with suitcases strewn everywhere as the young Slayers hurriedly packed their belongings.

"Make sure you're packing everything," Faith said, watching the frenzy. "Don't forget winter gear. It's winter in New Zealand."

"Aren't you coming with us, Miss Faith?" asked Mika, a young Slayer from Russia.

"I'll be there the next day, okay?" Faith replied with an encouraging smile. "I've got a few things to take care of here in LA first."

"Don't worry about these young lasses," said their Watcher, Martin Gordon, a grandfatherly ex-soldier. "I'll keep them in line. But can I have a quick word with you alone?"

Faith nodded, and the two moved into the kitchen, speaking in hushed tones, low enough that even Slayer hearing would struggle to pick up their conversation.

"How bad is it?" Martin asked, his tone serious.

"How much do you know?" Faith countered.

"Well, young Rupert activated the Council's survival protocols for nuclear war, so I gather some of the girls had a premonition."

"Not just some, nearly all of them," Faith replied. "And it wasn't just the nukes. They saw killer robots hunting the survivors. I checked with a friend, someone who can read auras... and yeah, it's looking like it's really gonna happen. But I'm not about to sit this one out."

"That's the spirit," Martin said with a grim nod. "But do you have any idea who starts it?"

"No clue," Faith admitted.

Los Angeles, FBI Central Office. 16:01 (Pacific Time)

Riley and Sam sat at a table in a conference room when Agent Rover dropped a folder onto the surface with a thud. It was as thick as a leg of ham.

"This is the full file on John Connor?" Riley asked.

"No, this one is," Agent Ford replied, placing an even thicker folder beside it. "That one's about his mother."

Sam began leafing through the Sarah Connor file, whistling in surprise.

"Listen, Riley, Sarah Connor was involved with half a dozen paramilitary groups, including Travis Gant's."

Riley groaned at the reminder of that fiasco and explained to the agents, "We found Gant a few months ago on one of our missions. He's a psycho ex-Green Beret, a mercenary with muscle, brains, and a serious attitude."

"Apparently, she and Gant were lovers during that time," Sam added, continuing to read. "After that, she was with Salceda…"

"...another psycho," Riley interjected.

"...before disappearing until she attempted to blow up Cyberdyne, where she was captured."

After reading the psychiatric report on Sarah Connor, Riley asked, "Where's Dr. Silberman? If John shares the same paranoid fantasies as his mother…"

"Unfortunately, Dr. Silberman broke when John Connor and that guy rescued Ms. Connor from Pescadero. He's spent years in therapy and currently works with the LAPD, but…"

"Yes, I know. He could snap again if we press him," Riley concluded.

The two FBI agents stepped out to speak with someone at the LAPD, leaving Sam and Riley alone.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Riley," Sam said, her brow furrowed.

"It's worse than you think. A couple of months ago, I overheard someone at the Pentagon talking about something called Project SkyNet."

"And Jackson is thinking that everything is hunky-dory." Sam said, with a sigh.

"Yeah, who was going to say that I was gonna miss that prick of Ashdown."

Buffy's Flat. 22:57​

Hours had passed since Willow had entered her trance. Faith's call had shaken them all, and with the young Slayers evacuated to Australia, the flat now felt eerily empty.

The Scoobies took turns watching over the unconscious witch, careful not to disturb the ritual circle or smudge any of the chalk markings on the floor.

It was Kennedy's turn when Willow finally stirred.

"Wills! Are you okay?" Kennedy asked, rushing to her side.

"Water," Willow rasped, her voice dry. Kennedy quickly handed her a glass, which Willow drained in one gulp.

By the time the rest of the group arrived, they were relieved to see Willow awake. After a round of quick questions and carefully moving her to a chair, Buffy broke the silence.

"Faith called. She tracked down one of Angel's old contacts and… well…"

Willow nodded, cutting her off. "Yeah, it's real. The apocalypse is coming."

Her voice was grave as she recounted what Sarah Connor had told her in the vision: Judgment Day was coming.


TO BE CONTINUED…

 

[AntonioCC]

BtVS. Judgement Day 2.0 Chapter 2​

Disclaimers: I don't own anything at all here. Everything is owned by their respective owners

Spoilers: The entire Buffy and Angel series (I'm ignoring the comics). Terminator up to Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.

I wish to thank my beta, Jediknight.

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An Abandoned Warehouse in San Francisco
J-Day Minus One
July 24, 2004 – 01:12 AM (Pacific Time)​

Korman stood in the dimly lit warehouse, greeting another group of demons eager to join the movement. Under his leadership, the Scourge in California had risen from the ashes. After Tiernan and his cadre had been wiped out fighting the vampire Angel, the Scourge had been at its lowest point. But Korman had rebuilt them. By the time the Scourge had regained its strength, Angel was embroiled in his battle with Wolfram & Hart.

Interfering with the demonic law firm was suicidal, and Korman had been smart enough to steer clear. Not that it mattered in the end, Wolfram & Hart's Los Angeles branch had been destroyed in a bid to sink the city into Hell. As for Angel and his team, nobody knew what had become of them. Los Angeles' supernatural underworld was now under the care, so to speak, of the Dark Slayer, Faith Lehane.

But all of that was about to change.

The human order, with its witches and Slayers, was crumbling under the weight of its own arrogance. Korman's seers had pieced together the truth: a nuclear war was imminent. The end of humanity was coming, and from its ruins, the demons would rise to claim the Earth.

All over the world, bunkers were being prepared for the Scourge's warriors, hidden away from the coming devastation. When the nuclear fires subsided, they would emerge, ready to re-establish the natural order. The human world would be no more, and the reign of demons would begin anew.

Korman smiled as he surveyed the gathering of demons, his dark eyes gleaming with the knowledge of what was to come. The time of mankind was over, and soon, the Scourge would inherit the Earth.

San Francisco.
Buffy's flat
01:51 (Pacific Time)​

Willow sipped her tea thoughtfully, mulling over what Sarah Connor's spirit had revealed. Judgement Day was looming, and they needed to know when it would happen, and more importantly, if they could prevent it. The key was Skynet, a secret military project. Maybe Riley would have some insight, she mused.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Xander stepping into the kitchen.

"Am I interrupting something?" he asked, noticing her pensive expression.

Willow smiled softly and shook her head. "No, not at all. Sit down."

As Xander took a seat, she continued, "I've been thinking about what Sarah Connor said, and I'm wondering if Riley might know anything about Skynet. After all, it's supposed to be some top-secret military project, right?"

Xander leaned back, considering it. "I doubt he would know much. If it's that classified, the security clearance must be sky-high. You'd need to be pretty deep in the loop to even hear about it."

Willow raised an eyebrow at him, prompting him to add with a grin, "What? I've read a lot of technothrillers!"

Willow chuckled lightly. "Okay, okay. Fair enough. But still, it's worth asking."

"Where's Buffy, anyway?" Xander asked.

Willow glanced toward the hallway. "She's taking a nap. She's had the dream too... more than once. It's probably hitting her harder than the rest of us."

Xander frowned, tapping his fingers on the table. "Yeah, I figured. What about you? Did you…?"

Willow shook her head. "No dreams for me. But I've seen enough through Sarah Connor's vision. It's real, Xander. All of it."

Before Xander could respond, a muffled sound came from down the hall—Buffy's bedroom. It started as a whimper, then grew louder, a pained groan escaping her lips.

"Buffy!" Willow and Xander rushed from the kitchen, bursting into her room.

Buffy was tossing and turning violently in her sleep, drenched in sweat. Her face was tight with fear, her hands clenched into fists around her blanket. Xander hesitated, but Willow quickly knelt by the bed, gently shaking Buffy's shoulder.

"Buffy! Wake up, it's just a dream. You're safe," Willow urged softly.

Buffy shot awake with a gasp, sitting upright as if she'd been pulled from deep water. Her eyes were wide, her breath ragged.

"Buff, are you okay?" Xander asked, concern thick in his voice.

Buffy blinked rapidly, trying to focus. It took her a few moments to realize where she was. She exhaled sharply, running a hand through her tangled hair. "Same dream. No... more intense this time. Way more."

"What did you see?" Willow asked, her tone soft but serious.

Buffy took a moment, wiping her face. "The nuke... it was the same. The flash, the heat... everything burning. But after that, it's like I skipped ahead... I saw the future. The world was in ruins. People were fighting, machines, killer robots everywhere. But this time..." She paused, the image vivid in her mind. "This time, I saw him. John Connor."

Xander tilted his head. "You saw him? What was he like?"

Buffy's expression shifted, a mixture of awe and sorrow. "Older. A lot older than when you guys saw him in those pictures on the Internet. He was leading the fight. I could feel it, he was their hope, like he knew exactly what needed to be done. But the machines… they kept coming. Wave after wave of them. They looked… unstoppable."

She shuddered, remembering the flashes of steel skeletons moving through battle-torn streets, hunting people like prey. "I heard him give orders. 'Hold the line,' he said. He had this... presence. Everyone was looking to him, like he was the only thing standing between them and total extinction."

Willow and Xander exchanged worried glances.

"Wow. Sounds like he's important," Xander said, trying to piece it together. "He's, what, the key to stopping this whole Skynet thing?"

Buffy nodded. "He has to be. Everything in the dream pointed to him being the one who leads the resistance... the one who fights back."

Xander's brow furrowed as he processed the information. "But what about us? What if there's something we can do?"

Buffy leaned forward, her eyes hardened with determination. "I'm not gonna sit around waiting for the world to end. If this Judgement Day is coming, we're gonna stop it, one way or another."

"Do you think we can reach out to Riley? He might know something more about John Connor and this Skynet project," Willow suggested, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

Buffy nodded, but deep down she knew that time was running out. Every night the dreams were growing more vivid, more urgent. The shadow of the future was looming larger, and for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was facing a battle they couldn't win alone.

Cleveland, Ohio. 06:45 (Eastern Time)​

Giles sat in deep thought, the weight of the conversation with Willow still hanging over him. Sarah Connor's story gnawed at him, stirring a faint memory. He felt certain he had encountered something similar during his time as a Watcher, visions of a future war, nuclear destruction, and killer robots. But the details eluded him.

Reaching for the phone, he dialed the Watcher HQ in Scotland.

"Thank you for calling the Watcher Founda.." a woman with a strong Scottish accent began.

"Izzy? It's Giles," he interrupted, his tone urgent.

"Oh, hi, Ripper! What can I do for you?" she responded warmly.

"I need you to check something for me," Giles said, not wasting time on pleasantries. "Anything the Council has on future visions involving killer robots and nuclear apocalypse, dated between 1984 and 1997. Possibly tied to a woman named Sarah Connor."

"Very specific," Izzy noted. "I'll give it a shot, but we're short-staffed with all the personnel evacuations."

"I understand, but this could be directly connected to why I ordered the evacuation in the first place," Giles said, his voice grave.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line.

"You don't think…" Izzy started.

"It's becoming more likely with each passing hour," Giles confirmed.

"I'll make it a priority," Izzy said, her tone shifting. "I'll look through the archives myself."

An Abandoned Warehouse in San Francisco,
04:57 AM (Pacific Time)​

Korman paced the warehouse floor, the weight of anticipation heavy on his mind. The plans were in motion, and soon, the world as he knew it would be reshaped. But as always, a sense of unease gnawed at him. Demonic prophecies were fickle things, always shifting, never set in stone. He was pondering this when one of his seers, a gaunt demon with milky-white eyes, stumbled into the room, panting from the effort of whatever vision had just gripped him.

"My lord," the seer rasped, struggling to catch his breath, "the Slayers... they know."

Korman's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, they know?"

The seer swallowed hard, fear evident in his voice. "The witches… they've discovered the coming war. They've seen it, the nuclear holocaust, the end of man. They're preparing. If they connect the dots and find the right seers, they could change everything. They could stop it."

Korman felt a cold rage boil up inside him. He had worked too long, too hard for this moment, and he wasn't about to let some meddling witches and Slayers unravel his plans. The Scourge was poised for its greatest triumph, the annihilation of mankind, the dawn of a new order.

Korman turned on the seer, his voice cold. "If the Slayers are trying to stop this, they will need help. They will seek seers and psychics. We can't allow that."

The seer nodded, trembling slightly, knowing what was coming.

"Send word to our agents," Korman ordered, his voice sharp and decisive. "Every seer, every psychic, every witch with even a hint of precognitive power—kill them. I don't care if they're human, demon, or anything in between. If they can see what's coming, I want them dead before they can help the Slayers."

The seer hesitated for a moment. "It will take time to locate them all, my lord, but we will begin immediately."

"Do it now," Korman growled, his patience wearing thin. "Time is the one thing we can't afford to waste. The Slayers are resourceful, but we'll make sure they're flying blind in the dark when the world burns."

The seer bowed low and hurried out of the room to spread the orders. Korman's mind churned with thoughts of violence, his pulse steadying as the plan came together.

There would be no mercy, no hesitation. If anyone, Slayer or seer, dared to stand in the way of the Scourge's ascension, they would be wiped from existence. The apocalypse was inevitable, and Korman would ensure it came to pass.

He turned to the shadows, where his lieutenants waited. "Gather the strike teams. We have a war to win, and we'll start by snuffing out any light that dares see it coming."

With a malicious grin, Korman could already feel the weight of victory. The hour of reckoning was drawing near.

Finns' Lodgings. Los Angeles. 06:26 (Pacific Time)​

With the operation to capture Connor scheduled for tomorrow, the Finns had a brief window to conduct some personal investigations. Their first step was acquiring a secure cell phone, and Riley placed a call to an old contact at the NSA.

"Bob?" Riley said, his voice low.

"Riley? Do you know what time it is?" came the groggy reply.

"I know that it's your day off," Riley said. "I wouldn't be calling unless it was urgent."

There was a brief sigh on the other end. "Alright, what is it?"

"Project SkyNet."

A long silence followed, the kind that made it clear Riley had hit a nerve.

"You don't have clearance for that," Bob finally responded.

"My boss might," Riley countered. "Brigadier General Robert Jackson. Tell him it's about the Connor case."

Cleveland, Ohio. 12:01 (Eastern Time)​

Giles had finally drifted off to sleep when the sharp ring of the telephone startled him awake.

"Jenny Calendar School..." he answered groggily.

"It's me, Izzy," came the familiar voice on the other end.

"Oh, Izzy, sorry, I was just..."

"I know, long nights for everyone lately," Izzy replied sympathetically. "Listen, I've got the information you asked for on Sarah Connor. Turns out, the old Council had been keeping tabs on her. They had a hunch she was tied to something significant, but they maintained a hands-off approach."

"And then the Terminator arrived…" Giles prompted, already piecing things together.

"Exactly. The Council was blindsided. By the time they realized the gravity of the situation, it was too late," Izzy continued. "After that, the Connors vanished. They were experts at staying off the grid. The only thing the Council could do was keep tabs on Project SkyNet, trying to use their influence to slow it down. Then, when Sarah Connor and that other Terminator destroyed Cyberdyne HQ, the Watchers swooped in, pulled a few strings, said the right things to the right people, and helped finish Cyberdyne off."

"So they thought they'd stopped it," Giles said, rubbing his temples.

"Exactly. When Judgment Day came and went without incident, they figured they dodged a bullet and stopped paying much attention to SkyNet."

Giles let out a weary sigh. "And now, it's back, isn't it?"

"According to the last report the Council received before it fell? SkyNet should already be operational."

Somewhere in San Francisco – 10:42 AM​

"Who exactly is this guy?" Buffy asked, trailing a few steps behind Willow and Kennedy.

"His name's Dennis Galland," Willow replied. "Supposedly a psychic. He's been posting some stuff online that lines up with what Sarah told us, so I figured he might know more."

The house they approached had clearly seen better days. Once a quaint mansion, its garden was now overgrown with weeds, the paint faded and peeling. The windows were boarded up with warped planks, giving it the look of a haunted, forgotten place.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" Kennedy asked, an eyebrow raised in clear doubt.

Buffy, her patience wearing thin, nodded. "Yes, Kennedy, this is the place."

Before they could exchange more words, a sharp, terrified scream pierced through the air from inside the house.

Buffy and Kennedy didn't hesitate. They exchanged a glance, then charged toward the front door. With a single hard shove, Buffy smashed it open, sending splinters of wood flying. Inside, they followed the sound of the screams, racing through the dimly lit hallway until they burst into a disheveled kitchen.

Five demons in dull gray uniforms were clustered around a pantry door, battering it furiously. They froze the moment Buffy and Kennedy stormed in, their glowing eyes narrowing with aggression.

"Well, this just got interesting," Buffy muttered, before leaping into action.

The nearest demon lunged at her, but Buffy grabbed him mid-air and hurled him through the kitchen window. Glass shattered as the demon was thrown outside. Kennedy was right behind her, launching a kick at another demon's groin. It barely reacted, snarling as it shoved her to the ground. Kennedy quickly retaliated, sweeping its legs out from under it and delivering a swift kick to its head, knocking it unconscious.

Buffy faced off against two more, easily ducking under a wild swing before slamming one into the refrigerator with enough force to dent the metal. She flipped the second demon over her shoulder with a judo throw, and it hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Kennedy, back on her feet, grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer and stabbed another demon in the chest. It collapsed immediately. Buffy finished off the last one with a solid punch, sending it flying out the same shattered window.

As the final demon hit the ground, Willow stepped into the kitchen, taking in the scene with a small smirk. "Looks like you guys handled it."

Ignoring the wreckage around them, Willow focused on the pantry door. She raised a hand, muttering a quick incantation, and the lock clicked open. Inside, they found a man slumped on the floor, unconscious, a thin trail of blood trickling from a gash on his forehead.

Willow knelt next to him, checking the wound. "It's not too bad—he's lucky. Just knocked out." She and Kennedy quickly bandaged him as he began to stir.

"Ugh, my head…" the man groaned, blinking his eyes open. His gaze fell on Buffy first. "I know you… You were at one of my shows a couple weeks ago." Then his eyes shifted to Willow. "And you... witch, right?"

Willow smiled faintly. "Yeah. I saw your act. Turns out, you're the real deal, huh? We're here because we need your help."

He frowned, slowly sitting up as his hand went to his head. He tugged off a wig, revealing his scalp covered in strange brain-like ridges. "Part T'sylic demon," he explained, noticing their stares. "That's where the psychic mojo comes from."

Buffy stepped forward, her expression serious. "We need to know about Judgment Day."

Dennis sighed deeply, weariness etched into his features. "It's tomorrow."

Buffy's eyes widened. "How do you know?"

"I've been seeing it for weeks," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Tomorrow evening—18:18. That's when the launch codes get entered. After that, it's over."

Buffy clenched her fists. "There has to be something we can do."

Dennis looked at her, his expression grim and resigned. "You don't understand. I've seen it. It's inevitable. I'm getting out of here tonight, taking my family and heading south. You should do the same. There's no stopping it."

Buffy exchanged a look with Willow, her resolve hardening. "We've stopped apocalypses before. We're not giving up on this."

But Dennis just shook his head, his voice heavy with resignation. "This isn't like the others. This one's bigger than any of us." He stood shakily, glancing around his ruined home. "You might slow it down, but you can't stop it."

Buffy turned away, determination etched on her face. "We'll see about that."

As Dennis' words hung heavy in the air, the kitchen grew uncomfortably still. Buffy crossed her arms, deep in thought, while Willow knelt next to Dennis, ensuring he was steady on his feet. Kennedy, keeping a watchful eye on the scattered demon bodies, wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Maybe we should tie them up or something," Kennedy muttered, glancing over her shoulder. "They look a little too quiet for my liking."

Buffy shot a quick look at the fallen demons, all apparently unconscious. "They're out cold. But better safe than sorry."

Just as Buffy turned to move, there was a sudden shift of movement—too fast. One of the demons, the one Buffy had thrown into the fridge, surged to his feet, eyes glowing with a fiery intensity. Before anyone could react, he lunged at Kennedy, tackling her to the floor with a roar.

Kennedy hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of her. "Buffy!"

The rest of the demons sprang to life, quickly shaking off their feigned unconsciousness. Two more bolted for the door while the others blocked Buffy and Willow, desperate to make their escape.

Buffy barely had time to react. She kicked the nearest demon in the chest, sending him staggering back, but another rushed past her, heading for the hallway.

Kennedy struggled under the demon pinning her down, gritting her teeth as she managed to elbow him in the throat. She scrambled to her feet just in time to see the last of the demons vanish out the front door, their retreat surprisingly coordinated.

Buffy gave chase but stopped short at the door, watching them scatter into the shadows outside. She cursed under her breath and turned back to Kennedy, who was rubbing her ribs, and Willow, who had instinctively raised a magical barrier during the chaos.

"Well, that went well," Buffy said dryly.

Kennedy, catching her breath, muttered, "Next time, we definitely tie them up."

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

[AntonioCC]

BtVS. Judgement Day 2.0 Chapter 3

Disclaimers: I don't own anything at all here. Everything is owned by their respective owners

Spoilers: The entire Buffy and Angel series (I'm ignoring the comics). Terminator up to Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.

I wish to thank my beta, Jediknight.

---

Edwards AFB Southern Gate - 12:10 PM (Pacific Time)
​

Riley and Sam Finn sat quietly in their rented car, waiting. The desert heat shimmered in the distance as they watched the entrance of the Air Force base. After a few minutes, a thirty-something female Air Force captain drove through the gate in her own car and approached them.

She stepped out and walked over, her expression unreadable.

"You're the ones I'm supposed to brief on Project SkyNet?" She didn't hide her skepticism. "I assume there's a good reason for that."

Riley nodded, keeping his tone professional.

"It's above your pay grade. Technically, it's above ours too, but our boss decided we needed the information."

The captain gave a small, noncommittal nod.

"Captain Carrie Samuels."

"Riley Finn."

"Samantha Finn," Sam added, giving a polite nod.

Samuels arched an eyebrow at their shared last name but didn't comment. Instead, she got straight to the briefing.

"Project SkyNet originally had two main objectives: developing a secure defense network and creating an advanced AI, a kind of 'Big Brother' system to monitor and protect it. The AI was based on a revolutionary neural processor. Over time, the project expanded to include automated weapons platforms and advanced robotics."

Riley exchanged a glance with Sam before interjecting.

"And everything was going fine until 1995, right?"

Samuels nodded. "Exactly. The Cyberdyne assault. That incident changed everything. Dr. Miles Bennet Dyson, the man behind the neural processor, died during the attack. He destroyed all of his research before he died, setting the project back years."

"And what happened after that?" Sam asked, leaning forward slightly.

Samuels continued. "Cyberdyne went bankrupt soon after. Their remaining assets were quietly absorbed by the government and repurposed for Project SkyNet. The company was kept alive as a shell for civilian projects, but the real work shifted to the Pentagon. The heads of the SkyNet project managed to recover some of Dyson's work from hidden sources, and they continued development."

"And now SkyNet is nearly operational?" Riley said, though he already knew the answer.

"Yes," Samuels said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "We're on the verge of a new age in national security."

Neither Sam nor Riley shared her enthusiasm. They exchanged a worried glance, the weight of what they'd just learned pressing down on them.

Samuels, oblivious to their concern, continued. "If everything goes as planned, SkyNet will revolutionize how we defend our country. Complete, autonomous control of our defense systems. No human error."

Riley kept his voice steady. "And no human oversight?"

Samuels paused for a moment, her smile faltering ever so slightly. "Well, the AI will be monitoring everything. That's the whole point."


Riley nodded again, but inside, the unease was growing. This was far worse than he'd anticipated.

San Francisco Scourge HQ
12:38 (Pacific Time)
​

Korman sat at a makeshift desk, poring over maps and documents when the door swung open, one of his lieutenants, a bruised and battered demon, staggered in. Korman's crimson eyes flicked up, narrowing at the sight of the wounded messenger.

The demon stood there, gasping, clearly shaken from battle. Korman's eyes flared with irritation. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low and menacing.

"We... we were ambushed, my lord," the demon stammered. "At Galland's house. The Slayers—Buffy Summers and her pack—showed up before we could finish the job."

Korman's fists tightened, the air in the room growing tense with his rising fury. "Buffy Summers?" he hissed, standing slowly. His towering form cast an imposing shadow over the demon, whose trembling only grew worse. "You let them walk into my operation, disrupt my plans, and then you ran like a coward?"

"My lord, they were stronger than expected. We... we had no choice. We barely got out alive—"

Korman's hand lashed out, gripping the demon by the throat, lifting him off the ground effortlessly. "Stronger than expected?" His voice was a low growl, dripping with anger. "I don't care how strong they were. You failed."

The demon gasped, clawing at Korman's hand, but there was no mercy in the leader's eyes.

Korman dropped him to the floor with a thud, turning toward the table where he'd been planning the Scourge's next move. The maps of key seers across the state now seemed irrelevant. His cold fury simmered just beneath the surface as he turned to face his lieutenant again.

"Forget the seers. That's no longer our priority," Korman spat, pacing in agitation. "This Slayer is a thorn in our side. We don't have time to waste tracking down every psychic in the city."

"But, my lord—"

"No!" Korman's voice boomed, cutting the demon off. "We take out Buffy Summers now." He slammed his fist on the table, making the maps and papers tremble. "If she gets involved, she could ruin everything we've worked for. Send every available strike team. Hit her in her home. I want her dead before Judgment Day."

The demon, still coughing and rubbing his throat, scrambled to his feet. "Yes, my lord."

"And if your teams fail again, I'll make sure you are the next one I deal with," Korman said coldly, his eyes burning with the promise of violence.

The demon nodded quickly and hurried out of the room, leaving Korman alone. He stared down at the maps once more, clenching his jaw. The Scourge had risen from the ashes, and he wouldn't let a Slayer or anyone else stand in the way of their ascension.

He would see to it personally that the next time Buffy Summers crossed paths with his demons, it would be her last.

Buffy's Flat. 13:17 (Pacific Time)
​

"...unfortunately, we haven't had the time to rebuild the Council's traditional ties with the British government," Giles said, his voice slightly muffled through the speakerphone. "I know a few people, but it will take hours before I can even get in contact with someone who matters."

"Hours we don't have," Buffy replied, her tone sharp with frustration. "What about the Initiative? Any way they can help?"

"That would be more your area than mine, Buffy," Giles admitted.

Buffy sighed, glancing at the phone. "I've been calling the number Riley gave me, but no one's picking up. Looks like we're on our own."

Before anyone could respond, Xander, who had been standing by the window, spoke up, his voice tense. "Uh, guys... we've got company. There are a lot of demons in uniform outside. And they're headed this way."

Buffy immediately took charge, her voice firm and commanding. "Xander, you and Dawn—get out through the back. Now."

"What about—" Xander began, but Buffy cut him off.

"No arguments. Just go! Me, Kennedy, and Willow will handle this."

Xander hesitated for only a second before grabbing Dawn's arm. "Come on, Dawn. We need to move, now."

As the two of them hurried out the back, Buffy turned her attention to the weapons bag on the table, pulling out a vicious-looking ax with practiced ease. Her eyes gleamed with determination.

"Grab whatever you need," she told Kennedy, her voice calm but steely. "This is going to get ugly."

Kennedy wasted no time, reaching into the bag for a pair of sleek daggers. Willow, standing close by, began muttering under her breath, her fingers already tingling with magical energy as she prepared herself for the fight ahead.

Buffy took a deep breath, listening as the sound of marching footsteps grew louder outside. "Alright, let's give them a welcome they won't forget."

The three of them exchanged a quick nod, ready for the battle that was about to descend on them.

Los Angeles – Finn's Lodgings – 13:38 (Pacific Time)
​

"I got through to his secretary," Riley said with a sigh, hanging up the phone. "General Jackson is tied up in some meetings with the higher-ups."

"Wonderful," Sam replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "So, what else do we have?"

Riley glanced down at his notes. "There's always the Council. Giles gave me their British HQ contact and a couple of keywords to cut through the red tape."

Sam nodded. "Might as well try. At this point, we need all the help we can get."

With a grim expression, Riley dialed the number Giles had given him, mentally preparing himself for another round of calls. The phone rang several times before a woman with a strong Scottish accent answered.

"Watcher Foundation. How may I assist you?" she asked in a formal, businesslike tone.

"I'm Riley Finn. I need help sorting out some information regarding my ancestors in the British Isles," Riley said, using the coded phrase Giles had provided.

There was a brief pause on the other end. "One moment, please."

The line went silent for a few seconds, then the same voice returned, though with a noticeable shift in tone. "Captain Finn, this is Isabella Ferguson, Watcher in charge. How can I assist you?"

Riley sat up straighter, sensing the gravity behind her words. "Thanks for taking the call, Ms. Ferguson. We're in a bit of a situation. We've come across something… catastrophic. SkyNet."

"So, finally, someone's piecing it together," Isabella said with a weary sigh.

Riley exchanged a glance with Sam, feeling a cold knot tighten in his gut. "So it's true, then? What Sarah Connor said—about a machine-led apocalypse?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so," Isabella confirmed, her voice grave. "Our seers and other sources have verified it. What she called 'Judgment Day' is real, and it's imminent."

Riley's throat tightened. "How soon?"

Isabella's voice softened slightly, a rare hint of empathy. "Tomorrow, Captain Finn. Tomorrow evening."

Sam's face paled. "That's… less than 24 hours," she whispered, almost to herself.

Riley's heart raced. "And you're sure? There's no stopping it?"

There was a brief pause. "Stopping it?" Isabella echoed. "That's not something I can promise. But I can tell you this: we're doing everything in our power to limit the fallout. Unfortunately, our influence with the British government has waned, and our resources are stretched thin."

Riley clenched his jaw, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "So, what are our options?"

"Survival," Isabella said bluntly. "If you can reach John Connor, I'd recommend working with him. He knows more about this than anyone. As for us, I'll activate the resources we have, but we're short on time."

Riley and Sam exchanged a grim look. It wasn't the solution they'd hoped for, but at least now they had clarity—and a ticking clock.

"All right," Riley said, his voice steady but hard. "We'll do what we can on our end. But if there's anything you can pull together, we'll need it. We're running out of options."

"I'll get you in contact with the nearest Slayer," Isabella offered. "Where are you right now?"

"Los Angeles," Riley replied.

"Write this down." Isabella rattled off a phone number with an L.A. area code. "I'll be in touch with more details. Good luck, Captain Finn. You're going to need it."

Riley hung up the phone, his hand lingering over the receiver for a moment, deep in thought. Then, turning to Sam, his expression dark but resolute, he said, "Less than a day to stop Judgment Day. We'd better make every minute count."

Close to Buffy's Flat, San Francisco, 13:45 (Pacific Time)
​

One of the reasons they'd chosen this neighborhood was the high level of demonic activity. People here had learned to turn a blind eye, so the odds of anyone calling the cops when Buffy stomped on a few demon toes were slim. Unfortunately, that also meant they were desensitized to things like pitched battles breaking out in broad daylight, which is exactly what was happening right now.

Buffy ducked as a demon from the Scourge swung a jagged blade at her head, the whoosh of air close enough to ruffle her hair. She countered with a swift uppercut, sending the demon reeling backward, blood spurting from its nose. Beside her, Kennedy drove a dagger into the chest of another demon, though it only staggered, growling in pain but still standing.

"Not vampires, Kennedy!" Buffy shouted, swinging her axe to cleave through the neck of another attacker. "Aim for the throat or the spine!"

Kennedy nodded, adjusting her stance. With a grunt, she went for a low sweep, tripping one of the demons before landing a brutal kick to its neck, crushing the windpipe.

Willow stood behind them, chanting under her breath, her hands glowing with a faint purple light. A force field shimmered into place around the trio, deflecting a barrage of energy bolts fired by the Scourge's spellcasters. Sweat dripped down her forehead as she strained to maintain the barrier while scanning the battlefield for opportunities.

"We're outnumbered!" Xander called from the back of the alley, pulling Dawn along with him as they tried to navigate their way to safety through the chaos. A pair of demons blocked their path, and Xander instinctively raised a steel bat, bracing himself for a fight.

"Hold on!" Willow shouted, her eyes flashing. She threw out a hand, sending a burst of energy toward Xander and Dawn's attackers. The demons flew backward, crashing into a nearby dumpster with a bone-crunching thud.

"Thanks, Will!" Xander called, as he and Dawn disappeared down a side alley.

Buffy spun, narrowly dodging another attack. "We need to wrap this up! There's no way we can hold out much longer!"

Kennedy was panting, blood trickling from a cut above her eyebrow. "Any brilliant ideas, Buffy?"

"Just one," Buffy muttered, her eyes narrowing. She kicked the nearest demon hard in the chest, sending it flying into the others. "Willow, get ready to pull the biggest fireworks show you can muster. We need a distraction and an exit."

Willow nodded, her lips moving faster now as her hands glowed even brighter. The air around her shimmered and crackled with energy as she gathered her strength for the spell.

Buffy swung her axe with renewed fury, clearing the path in front of them, keeping the demons at bay long enough for Willow to finish her incantation. "Now, Will!"

With a loud cry, Willow released the pent-up magic, and a blinding flash erupted from her hands. The entire street was engulfed in a dazzling explosion of light and sound, momentarily blinding the demons and sending several of them stumbling backward.

"Move!" Buffy shouted, grabbing Kennedy's arm and pulling her down the alley where Xander and Dawn had fled moments before.

The Scourge demons, dazed but recovering, roared in frustration as their prey slipped away. One of them, covered in battle scars and larger than the others, snarled and barked orders in a guttural language, rallying the remaining forces.

As they disappeared into the narrow alleyways, Buffy's mind raced. They couldn't run forever, and now that the Scourge had made their move, things were only going to get worse.

Scourge Command Post - 14:12 (Pacific Time)
​

Korman stood fuming, his patience hanging by a thread. The flickering candlelight cast jagged, ominous shadows across the room, illuminating the raw fury etched into his features. The air was thick with the mingled scents of incense and blood, but Korman paid them no mind. His attention was solely fixed on the demon kneeling before him, battered and trembling with fear.

"They escaped?" Korman's voice was a low, dangerous whisper, his rage barely contained.

The demon kept his eyes glued to the floor, his voice weak as he stammered out, "Yes, sir. The Slayers, the witch... their companions. They fought back harder than we anticipated. The witch—she blinded us with magic. We couldn't stop them."

Korman's fists clenched, his knuckles pale as he fought to contain the volcanic anger boiling inside him. "You let them slip away, after the seers handed us everything we needed?" His voice dripped with menace, sharp as a blade, and the kneeling demon recoiled under its weight.

"We tried, sir... but—"

Korman silenced him with a guttural growl, cutting off the weak attempt at an excuse. "I don't want your failures, I want results."

He took a slow breath, forcing himself to shift his attention. His eyes landed on the seer standing silently at the far end of the room, a gaunt, blind demon with milky, unseeing eyes. The seer had been pivotal in guiding the Scourge thus far, orchestrating the massacre of seers to keep their enemies in the dark. But now, things were slipping out of control.

"What now?" Korman's voice was cold, dangerously controlled. "Does Judgment Day still unfold as planned, or has the Slayer jeopardized everything?"

The blind demon swayed slightly, his unblinking eyes fixed on something far beyond the room. The silence stretched painfully long before he finally spoke, his voice like brittle leaves rustling in the wind.

"Judgment Day proceeds as foretold," he rasped. "But there is now a risk, my lord. The Slayer and her allies must be dealt with before tomorrow. If they survive, they may yet find a way to disrupt the plan. The witch grows stronger, and their allies bolder. If they are not slain before sunset, all may be lost."

Korman's rage shifted, growing colder, more precise. His jaw tightened as the weight of the seer's words settled over him. The game was no longer one of patience or subtlety; it was one of survival. His survival.

"It's Slayer season today," Korman finally said, his voice steady but venomous. "Gather all our forces. Every demon, every warrior. The one who brings me Buffy Summers' head will be rewarded beyond measure."

The bruised demon nodded quickly, eager to escape Korman's presence. As he scrambled out of the room, no one noticed the faint, knowing smirk tugging at the seer's lips.

The pieces were falling into place.

Los Angeles - An Anonymous Café - 14:45 (Pacific Time)
​

"Of all the people, I didn't expect to run into B's old boy toy and his new squeeze," Faith remarked, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. Her tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, just sharp enough to make Riley sit a little straighter, tension creeping into his posture.

Riley's eyes narrowed slightly, holding her gaze. "The feeling's mutual, Lehane," he replied, his voice steady, though the weight of their shared past hung between them. Too much history for anything to feel casual.

Sensing the rising tension, Sam crossed her arms, her voice cutting through the moment like a razor. "Is this gonna be a problem, or are we here to work together?" Her no-nonsense tone carried a quiet authority, reminding both of them that the stakes were far bigger than old grudges.

Faith's smirk softened, though the glint in her eyes lingered. "Chill, Blondie. I'm not here to stir the pot. We're all on the same side… for now."

Riley exhaled slowly, the tension easing, though a quiet charge remained in the air. "Good to know. We don't have the luxury of time right now."

"No kidding, soldier boy," Faith muttered, her smirk fading into something more bitter. "Giles filled me in, and let me tell you, it wasn't the kind of apocalypse I'm used to. I've seen my share of end-of-the-world crap, but this? This is next-level, and I don't love feeling powerless."

Sam leaned forward, her gaze intense. "None of us do. But we've got less than 24 hours to stop Judgment Day. Whatever history's between us, it doesn't matter now. What matters is how we stop this."

Faith nodded slowly, her expression hardening. "Yeah, alright. So what's the play? Do we actually have a plan, or are we just winging it?"

Riley glanced at Sam before leaning in, lowering his voice. "We're here in LA because the FBI contacted us. They want help finding someone—John Connor."

Faith's brow shot up in surprise. "John Connor? You mean—"

"Sarah Connor's son," Sam interrupted. "The FBI believes he's in LA and somehow tied to this computer virus that's been wreaking havoc."

Faith tilted her head, her expression skeptical. "Connor's some kinda tech-terrorist now? That's a hell of a leap."

Sam shook her head. "Exactly. It doesn't add up. Connor's been off the grid for years—decades, even. Now, all of a sudden, he's linked to something this massive? It smells wrong."

Faith leaned back in her chair, chewing thoughtfully on her lip. "So, the Feds think Connor's behind all this, but you're not buying it?"

Riley shook his head, his expression tight with frustration. "No, I'm not. But I don't have anything solid to prove otherwise. What the FBI's after doesn't match up with what we know about Connor. My gut says he's not our enemy."

Faith's tone shifted, more serious now. "So, what's your move?"

Riley exchanged a glance with Sam before answering. "If I can't convince my bosses, I'll have to pull my team out. I've already told them to suspend operations tomorrow at noon. If things start to play out the way the seers are predicting, we'll be heading for the desert."

Faith's eyes flickered with understanding. "So, you're ready to bail?"

"It's a last resort," Riley replied grimly. "But until then, we keep digging. If there's any chance to stop this, we'll take it."

TO BE CONTINUED...

 

[AntonioCC]

BtVS. Judgement Day 2.0 Chapter 4​

Disclaimers: I don't own anything at all here. Everything is owned by their respective owners
Spoilers: The entire Buffy and Angel series (I'm ignoring the comics). Terminator up to Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines.
I wish to thank my beta, Jediknight.

---

Edwards AFB
Cyber Research Systems Complex
15:00 (Pacific Time) ​

Carrie Samuels had just finished her lunch and returned to her desk, ready to dive back into the administrative work at CRS. The day had been uneventful, save for the ever-present frustration caused by the virus that had been wreaking havoc on civilian internet networks. She couldn't even browse her favorite humor sites anymore, just another inconvenience in a long list.

She sighed, her thoughts drifting to SkyNet. Hopefully, they'd deploy it soon to crush the virus and get everything back to normal. The briefing she'd given to the Finns earlier was now just a distant memory, one of countless tasks in a job that felt increasingly mundane.

Samuels allowed herself a small smile. Once SkyNet was online, all of this chaos would be handled. Things would stabilize. They always did.

For now, though, it was back to business as usual, at least for the moment.

San Francisco
Near Buffy's Former Flat
15:12 (Pacific Time) ​

The Scourge had deployed a demonic hound, its snout twitching as it caught the scent of its prey. The beast sat in the back of a nondescript black SUV, its glowing red eyes fixed ahead, tracking Buffy and her companions through the city's winding streets. The vehicle rolled smoothly along, tinted windows concealing both the monstrous creature and its handlers. To any passerby, it looked like nothing more than another car navigating through San Francisco's busy afternoon.

Inside the SUV, the Scourge warriors sat in tense silence, their eyes flicking between the hound and the GPS display. Every now and then, the beast growled low in its throat, its nose pressed against the cracked-open window. Its handler, a burly demon with scarred skin and a permanent snarl, gripped the leash tightly.

"The trail's still fresh," the handler muttered to the driver, who grunted in response. "They're not far."

The driver's eyes remained fixed on the road. "Good. Korman wants results, not excuses. We can't screw this up."

The SUV took a sharp turn, the hound letting out a deep bark, signaling they were closing in. The handler's grip tightened, anticipation rising in the cramped space.

"They can't be far," the demon growled, his eyes narrowing on the distant street ahead. "Prepare the others. We will strike soon."

Meanwhile... ​

Buffy, Kennedy, and Willow had slipped through the alleys, keeping close to the walls, moving silently between the shadows. The city's chaotic energy hummed around them, but Buffy's focus was entirely on getting them to the rendezvous point where Xander's car was parked. Dawn and Xander were already a few blocks ahead, but Buffy could feel the tension winding tighter in her muscles with every step, like a spring ready to snap.

"We can't keep running like this," Kennedy whispered, her voice low but resolute. She scanned the streets ahead, her eyes sharp, looking for any sign of the Scourge. "They'll catch up eventually."

Willow's face was tight with concentration, her fingers still buzzing from the last spell she'd cast to buy them some time. "I can slow them down again, maybe throw up a barrier or something, but it won't hold for long. They're tracking us... somehow."

Buffy's mind raced, weighing their options. They had a small window to get out, but the Scourge wouldn't let up easily. They needed something more than just running.

She turned to Willow, urgency sharpening her tone. "Can you teleport us to Xander and Dawn? Get us out of here faster?"

Willow's face paled slightly at the suggestion, and she shook her head. "Not with the power I've got left. I'd have to go full Dark Willow... and trust me, we don't want that." She shuddered at the thought, the memory of what that kind of power could do still raw.

Buffy clenched her jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "Then we hold them off for as long as we can." She glanced at Kennedy, her eyes hardening with resolve. "We'll fight if we have to, but let's hope Xander and Dawn are ready to make a quick getaway when we catch up."

Kennedy smirked, her grip tightening on her weapon. "Bring it on. They won't know what hit them."

Elsewhere... ​

Dawn and Xander moved quickly but cautiously, sticking to side streets and narrow passages. The tension was thick in the air as they neared the rendezvous point. Xander had already prepped the car, ready to roll as soon as Buffy and the others arrived.

"Do you think they'll make it?" Dawn asked, her voice betraying her worry as they rounded the corner toward the parked car.

Xander glanced at her, his usual light-hearted demeanor noticeably absent. "If anyone can, it's Buffy. But yeah... we need to be ready to go the second they get here."

Dawn nodded, glancing behind them. "I just hope we're not too late."

Xander slid into the driver's seat, tension radiating through his body as he jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life, and he glanced anxiously at the street ahead, waiting for any sign of Buffy, Kennedy, and Willow.

Just as he was about to say something to Dawn, he spotted them. Buffy and Kennedy came sprinting around the corner, Kennedy carrying Willow over her shoulder. Both Slayers were moving fast, their expressions grim and determined.

"There they are!" Dawn shouted, relief flooding her voice as she leaned out of the window, waving them down. "Come on, hurry!"

Buffy and Kennedy raced toward the car, their breaths ragged from the sprint. Xander threw the car into gear, ready to peel off as soon as they got in. But just as they reached the backseat, a black SUV with tinted windows screeched around the corner, barreling down the street in hot pursuit.

"Go, go, go!" Buffy shouted as she and Kennedy slid into the back, shoving Willow gently into Dawn's arms.

Xander slammed his foot on the gas, tires squealing as the car shot forward. Dawn, cradling Willow, glanced back at the pursuing vehicle. The Scourge's SUV was gaining on them fast, its engine growling like a predator hunting its prey.

"Willow's out cold," Kennedy said, her voice tight with frustration. "That last spell took too much out of her. Can you handle the magic, Dawn?"

Dawn looked down at Willow, then back at the SUV, her eyes narrowing with determination. "I'll have to. Keep them busy while I figure something out."

Xander swerved through the narrow streets, dodging cars and pedestrians as the SUV closed the gap. Buffy leaned out the back window, gripping her ax tightly, ready to strike if the vehicle got too close.

Dawn closed her eyes, focusing on the magic coursing through her. She could feel it, the faint hum of energy left behind by Willow's spells, like echoes in the air. Her hands tingled as she tapped into it, her mind racing to weave a defensive barrier. The pressure was mounting—she had never done something like this in the heat of a chase.

Behind them, the Scourge's SUV sped closer. One of the demons inside leaned out of the window, raising a crossbow, ready to fire.

"Come on, Dawn," Buffy urged, her eyes darting between the SUV and her sister, the tension thick in her voice.

With a deep breath, Dawn extended her hand toward the pursuing vehicle. A faint shimmer of light formed between them, and then suddenly a barrier snapped into place—just as the demon fired. The crossbow bolt collided with the barrier, shattering in midair.

"Yes!" Dawn exclaimed, her confidence rising.

But the SUV wasn't slowing down. Xander veered sharply to the left, taking a narrow alley to shake them. "That'll buy us some time, but we need more than a few seconds!"

Kennedy leaned forward, her voice sharp. "Can you push them back, Dawn? Maybe knock them off course?"

Dawn bit her lip, focusing harder. She could feel the barrier wobbling under the strain of the chase. "I'll try… but I'm not Willow!"

The SUV surged forward again, and this time, it wasn't just one demon leaning out of the window—it was three. One raised a throwing knife, another a mystical-looking orb glowing ominously in his hand.

"Buffy, heads up!" Xander shouted as they exited the alley and veered back onto the main road.

Buffy braced herself. "Dawn, now would be a really great time for that pushback!"

Dawn's eyes snapped open, her face tight with concentration. She threw her hand out again, this time channeling everything she had into the spell. The air around them rippled, and suddenly, the SUV swerved violently as if it had been struck by an invisible force. The demons inside shouted in surprise as the vehicle spun out of control, careening into a parked car with a deafening crash.

"That's my girl!" Buffy cheered, giving her sister a proud grin.

Xander glanced in the rearview mirror, a breath of relief escaping him. "Nice work, Dawn! Let's get the hell out of here before they recover."

As the SUV lay in the street, smoking and disabled, the group sped away, leaving the Scourge in their wake. Buffy, Kennedy, and Dawn exchanged a tense look, the weight of their escape hanging in the air.

But they knew it wasn't over yet.

They still had Judgment Day to stop.

Los Angeles
Slayers' Residence
15:39 (Pacific Time)​

The best lead the Finns had on John Connor's whereabouts was a vague sighting from a few months ago, somewhere near San Bernardino—ironically not far from where Sunnydale had once stood.

All the reports since his mother's death pointed to the same general area of Southern California, always circling back to L.A.

"He's probably traveling light," Sam mused aloud, "dirt bike, maybe. Working for cash, living off the grid. The life of an outlaw. Sounds familiar."

The real problem was that this kind of life made him nearly impossible to track, especially for the FBI, who still saw Connor as some kind of super-hacker mastermind rather than someone scraping by day to day.

The Pentagon
Washington D.C.
19:14 (Eastern Time) ​

Lt. Colonel McFarlan cursed under his breath for what felt like the hundredth time that day. General Jackson, fresh from his meeting with the top brass, had dumped the entire Initiative responsibility on him, then vanished for a two-day fishing trip. Now McFarlan was left holding the bag, and to make matters worse, he'd just received word that their top team was chasing some FBI wild goose in Los Angeles.

"Colonel? Captain Finn on line two," his secretary's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Put him through."

"Colonel."

"Finn? What's the situation in L.A.?"

Riley's voice was heavy. "About as good as Belize, sir."

McFarlan's forced smile immediately disappeared. He remembered how catastrophically wrong the Belize op had gone.

"How bad are we talking?"

"Apocalyptic, sir," Riley said, proceeding to summarize the grim situation unfolding with Judgment Day looming.

McFarlan let out a long, uncharacteristic curse. "Fuck. And Jackson decided now's the perfect time for a fishing trip?"

"Oh, great. Just when we could really use a general on our side, he's gone incommunicado," Riley replied, the frustration clear in his tone.

"There's always... Ashdown," McFarlan muttered reluctantly.

Riley sighed on the other end. "Unfortunately, he's our only option now. Looks like we'll have to make the call."

McFarlan steeled himself. Ashdown was a last resort for a reason, but with the world hanging in the balance, they had no choice.

San Francisco Outskirts
A Motel
17:02 (Pacific Time)​

They had settled into a small, roadside motel for the evening, deciding it was best to regroup and let Willow recover after the intense magic she'd used to keep the Scourge at bay. The place was quiet, clean, and thankfully a step up from the rundown motels they'd seen on the way, a decent place to plan their next move.

Dawn sat on the edge of one of the beds, her hands twisting in her lap as she glanced between Buffy and the others. "So... what now?" she asked, her voice cutting through the heavy silence that had fallen over the group.

Buffy leaned against the wall, arms crossed, her brow furrowed in thought. Kennedy sat beside Willow, who was still pale and clearly exhausted, while Xander paced by the window, keeping an eye on the parking lot outside.

"We need to figure out our next steps before they catch up to us again," Buffy said after a moment, her voice steady but carrying the weight of the situation.

Dawn's gaze flicked to Willow. "Will she be okay?" she asked, concern lacing her words.

"She just needs time," Kennedy said softly, brushing a stray hair from Willow's face. "But we can't keep running like this forever."

Buffy nodded, her expression hardening. "We need to stop being the hunted. If we don't come up with a plan soon, they'll wear us down."

Xander stopped pacing and turned toward the group. "We could head back to L.A., regroup with Faith and the others."

"That's a long drive with the Scourge on our tail," Kennedy said. "And the more we stay in one place, the easier it is for them to track us."

Buffy took a deep breath, her mind racing through their limited options. "Then we need to figure out how they're tracking us. Willow said they're using magic, right? If we can disrupt that, we can throw them off."

Willow stirred, her eyes fluttering open. "They're… using a hound," she whispered weakly. "It's... attuned to our magic. I might be able to create a barrier, but... I need more time to recharge."

Dawn leaned forward, her face serious. "Then we need to give Willow that time. Whatever we decide, it has to buy us at least a few more hours."

Buffy's jaw tightened as she pushed off the wall. "Okay. We'll split up. Xander, you and Dawn go grab supplies—anything we can use to reinforce our defenses. Kennedy and I will keep watch. We can't let them get the drop on us again."

Everyone nodded, the weight of the task ahead settling over them. They had no idea how much time they had before the Scourge caught up, but one thing was clear—they couldn't run forever.

Finn's Lodgings
Los Angeles
17:35 (Pacific Time) ​

Riley hung up the phone and let out a sharp curse.

"Bad news?" Sam asked, worry flickering in her eyes.

He sighed. "Yeah, that was McFarlan. Apparently, General Ashdown's off on some classified mission and won't be reachable until the day after tomorrow."

Sam shook her head, frustration tightening her jaw. "Damn it. Looks like it's just us, then."

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. Riley held her close, taking a moment to steady himself in her embrace.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice low. "It's just us."

Watchers Council-Owned Property, Ohio
21:00 (Eastern Time)​

The bunker was adequate, Giles thought, inspecting the reinforced steel walls and sturdy architecture. Built in the 1970s by an eccentric millionaire, it had been refurbished when the Council purchased the property. Now, it would be used for its original purpose: survival.

They had already stocked the bunker with additional supplies, and tomorrow, if flights to the Southern Hemisphere couldn't be secured, Slayers, Watchers, and their families would begin moving in.

Similar precautions were underway at Slayer schools worldwide. Originally prepared for supernatural threats, the shelters would be just as capable of withstanding a nuclear holocaust.

On the Road to Los Angeles
18:35 (Pacific Time) ​

Once Xander and Dawn returned with supplies, they reviewed their options one last time and moved forward with their plan: head to Los Angeles, meet up with Faith, and lay a trap for the Scourge. With dusk less than two hours away, they took every precaution, mapping escape routes and alternate roads as they drove. This time, they were determined to bring the fight on their terms.

"They're closing in," Willow murmured from the backseat, her voice steady but tense.

Buffy's grip tightened on the wheel, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. "Good. Let them follow us right where we want them."

Xander glanced at the GPS, pulling up the coordinates they'd marked earlier. "Just a few more miles. Everyone ready?"

Kennedy checked her gear, her face hard with resolve. "We make this count."

Willow's eyes glinted with renewed focus. "I'll be ready to throw up a barrier once they're in range, but it'll take everything I've got. We'll only get one shot at this."

The car surged down the highway, the weight of their plan settling heavily around them. Ahead, the lights of Los Angeles glowed faintly on the horizon, but it was the ominous glare of headlights growing larger behind them that kept everyone on edge.

"Any minute now," Willow murmured, her gaze locked on the side mirror, watching the approaching lights. She took a deep breath, magic swirling to life at her fingertips. "Now!"

With a swift incantation, Willow raised a shimmering barrier directly in the path of the Scourge vehicle. The demon-driven SUV barely had time to swerve before slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch, metal crumpling as it smashed into the invisible wall.

Buffy glanced back, a small, fierce smile breaking through her tension. "That should slow them down. Let's move."

Without another word, they sped down the road, the Scourge caught off guard and momentarily left in the dust behind them.

Jenny Calendar School
22:16 (Eastern Time) ​

Giles returned to the school, exhausted, only to find a couple of missed calls from Isabella. The message was brief but clear: the British government would be contacting him first thing tomorrow morning, London time—which meant an ungodly hour here in Cleveland.

The purpose of the call was equally clear: he'd have to explain, in full, how the Council had determined that Project Skynet posed a clear and present threat to the United Kingdom. He could only hope that at least a few on the other end of the line had been properly briefed on their work before the Old Council had been destroyed.

With a weary sigh, he settled into his office, mentally preparing himself for the difficult conversation awaiting him in just a few short hours.

Los Angeles
An old apartment in Chinatown
20:35 (Pacific Time) ​

Faith climbed the narrow, creaky staircase, her eyes scanning the dim corridor. The scent of incense and old books seeped from beneath the door at the end of the hall, mingling with the faint traces of mildew and aged wood.

She knocked, then let herself in. Marty's apartment was exactly as she remembered: dark, cluttered, and filled with the hum of forgotten objects. Shelves bowed under the weight of dusty, arcane books and obscure relics. Marty sat in an old armchair, a withered man with silver hair, hunched over a deck of weathered tarot cards.

Faith cleared her throat, and Marty looked up, his hollow eyes narrowing as he recognized her.

"Faith Lehane," he rasped, voice thick with years of inhaling the smoke of endless candles. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Faith didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Need to find someone—someone important. Kid named John Connor. Figured if anyone could help, it'd be you."

Marty sighed, his thin lips pressing into a line. "John Connor, huh? He's… different. Not like the usual missing persons." He spread the tarot cards in a semicircle on the table, a sigh rattling his frail frame. "Might as well try, though I can't promise anything with someone like him."

Faith watched as he ran his fingers over the cards, each movement painstaking and deliberate. She could see the tremor in his hands, the way his face creased in concentration, but the cards only whispered faintly, and she knew he was struggling to pull anything from them.

After a few minutes, Marty leaned back, defeated. "Nothing solid. All I get is this… intense presence. He's out there, yeah, but he's moving, always moving. Something tells me the usual tricks don't work on a guy like him."

Faith clenched her jaw. She'd been counting on this. "So that's it? No leads?"

"Sorry, Faith," Marty muttered, shuffling the cards back together. "Some people are just shadows until they're ready to be seen."

She exhaled sharply, nodding, trying to hide her disappointment. She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back at the old seer. "Marty… something big's coming. Real end-of-the-world stuff. Tomorrow, if we don't figure things out. It's not just apocalypse in the usual sense; this time it's—"

"Judgment Day," he interrupted, looking at her with weary eyes that somehow held no surprise. "You think I don't know? Faith, I've spent years looking for what might lie on the other side of death. Seen too many worlds and too many endings. Trust me—I know what's coming."

His voice softened. "There's nothing for me to do but wait for it, same as everyone else. My part in this one… is done."

Faith's heart clenched, and for a moment, she couldn't meet his gaze. She wanted to say something, anything to ease the finality in his tone, but words felt useless. She settled for a nod, forcing herself to believe he'd found his peace.

TO BE CONTINUED...