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“So hero’s not enough for you?  Gonna be a philosopher, too?”  Xander knelt down in front of Fin.  He reached out, offering his hand, and pulled Fin to his feet.

Fin brushed dust from his coat, and retrieved his sword.  It was warm, but still intact.  As he sheathed it, he looked around.  Hundreds of tiny, fresh craters surrounded him.  Some held the remaining shreds of the few Soulless he had managed to kill with his meteor shower.  There were several landed helicopters around the field, and soldiers were helping the wounded to them.

“Are they okay?” Fin asked again.

“You were able to localize the meteors.  Only Soulless were hit.”  Xander was looking around as well.  “Which is why you almost burned your sword, jackass.  You can’t try to contain that much power.”

Grace was looking away from them.  “Let’s see if we can help out.”

They turned and walked toward the nest of survivors they had seen earlier.  A handful of medics were there, tending to the wounded, and maneuvering stretches for those that couldn’t walk out.  A silver smudge appeared in front of Fin, Xander, and Grace, and another Conduit stood in front of them.

“Fin.  Xander.  Grace,” he nodded at each of them as he spoke their name.  “Magister Rochester requests your presence back at command.”

“What’s it about, Michael?” Fin asked, hand resting on his hilt.

Grace cut Michael off.  “You told the Magister to burn in hell.  And disobeyed him by coming out here.  We did, too.  What do you think it’s about?”

Fin sighed, a finger absently toying with the diamond in his hilt.  “I expected as much.  Michael, would you stay and help them out?  I’m not sure if the Soulless really retreated, or if there just waiting to attack again.”

“I would, but, uh…”

Xander glared at him with fierce, blue eyes.

“Of course.  I’ll stay.”

“Then let’s go see the Magister.”

They were gone, silver smears against the carnage, leaving Michael standing alone.