Chaos Without Prophecy

Author: AlanP <alan.p[at]>

Summary: Post-Graduation, and post 'Betrayed'

Series: 'Metal Heart'

Crossover: "Chaos Without Prophecy", by Dimmu Borgir, on the 'Godless Savage Garden' album

Disclaimer: I own... some spirits and that's it.

Feedback: Feedback makes me happy

Pre-fic Comments:

Sequel to 'Betrayed', and 'A Fallen Star'. I'm going to have to make up stuff for this part.

The title to the song seems like a good phrase for Xander, and I decided to play with the song a bit.

Chapter 1

The quest for Azunda hath drawn near
The young king, the chaos he brings
With iron grip's sword, chants come forth
The child of dark he is


Xander leant back on the steps, watching as Cordelia walked into the small basement with Angel. He'd had... words... with the ensouled vampire, and they'd agreed to disagree.

His hand tightened on his katana as he saw a man in elaborate robes approaching the door Cordelia had just entered. Dark red stains coloured the white material showing beneath the black outer robes. Blood. A long, thin knife (almost a short sword) was put through the black rope around the figure's waist.

While Xander disagreed with Angel and Cordelia on how to do things, that didn't mean he'd let psychopaths loose on them.


In prophecy, chaos not near
In chaos, prophecies began
This child of dark, hath foreseen
He makes his own destiny


Xander got up, moving behind the robed figure with a quiet economy of motion. He unsheathed a shorter Japanese sword, a kodachi, longer than the short wakazashi, but shorter than a katana.

Mr Wilkins had given it to him.

"Don't move," he whispered, sliding the blade around the neck of the figure. "Clear your throat, and you won't need to shave. Ever."

The robed figure lifted his right hand, waving it to indicate he understood.

"Move into that alleyway, there," Xander commanded.


The magic he creates is from his will
The magic of Azunda, he shall receive
Iron grip's sword guides his path
To the place which is no more


"What are you doing here?," Xander asked, eyes narrowing.

"I'm... here to serve Our Lady of Destruction," the figure said reluctantly. "I... come... to unleash... Angelus. How are you making me say all this?!"

"Are there any others behind you?," Xander demanded.

"This was prophesied a thousand years ago," the man began to laugh. "You cannot stop Her! She will destroy all!"

"Moron," Xander muttered. He kicked the man, then put the kodachi against the man's throat again. The laughter stopped immediately.

"Where are your headquarters?!," Xander demanded.


The journey to this place is creation
In this creation, he shall be
Living for himself and his destiny
In his path, lies of the prophecies


Xander looked up. And up. And up. The stone cathedral in front of him was immense.

"I don't get it," he muttered. "How'd they hide something this big in the middle of Los Angeles? And how'd they build it without leaving a paper trail?"

He knocked on the door, stepping to the side as a slot at eye level opened. Xander lifted an object to the slot.

"Brother Deimos?," a voice said from behind the stout, ironbound door. It opened. "Come in! How went your mission?"

Xander kicked the door, sending the monk behind it flying. "I'm afraid he's gone for a long journey, and you're about to join him unless you take me to your head evil dude."


In his mind he sees another
Who wishes to receive, Azunda
He sees light within in his enemy
And laughs at the prophecy


"How did you stop Brother Deimos?," the head monk in front of him demanded. The two were in a small room, lined with books. "It was prophesied that he would unleash the Scourge of Europe tonight! The Powers that Be ordained this order to fulfil that!"

"Prophecy is overrated," Xander snorted. His left hand wrapped itself around his katana's saya, lifting the sword with his thumb slightly. His right hand slowly curled around the hilt. "I can't allow you to do that."

"You cannot stop it!," the head monk clothed in finery said, gesticulating wildly. "Women will weep for their husbands, children will feast on their parents, and men shall let blood flow as a river!"


His will and his word is his sorcery
He is waiting for thee
To put an end to this prophecy
Azunda, give your power to me


Xander closed his eyes as he heard the thump of the head monk's head, falling to the ground. A series of dull thuds followed, as the corpse fell also. He stood there, sword still out, eyes closed.

"I prefer chaos to prophecy," Xander said softly. "Life to death."


The child of dark has found thee
And now must destroy, evil thee
Iron Grip's sword has gone through thee
Now, Azunda is mine for all to see


"You... you killed him!," a breathless voice said from the door.

"He had bad breath!," Xander protested. "If you promise to never try and do bad stuff, I'll let ya go."


The king's task has been complete
The chaos has begun for all to see


A women made of light stared despairingly at a man made of shadows.

"He has broken it," she said despairingly. "He has broken it, and all our plans go for naught."

The man smiled insolently back. "I think I prefer his way."

"You cannot mean that! That way lies madness!," the woman protested.

"Why, Order?," the man asked. He rose from the chess board sitting between them, now cleaved into two. "Because I must no longer submit to you?"

Down on the mortal plain, an immortal looked up.

"He's come, Princess," she whispered. "He's come, and all the prophets've gone mad! Mad, like our Daddy, all nasty Angel-beast... maybe he'll come back to us, now that the bad Powers that Be have lost their future..."

The End