He had known his Slayer would die in the fight against Glorificus, with the same inescapable certainty he'd known years ago that she would die when she faced the Master.

But, along the way, she had taught him to expect the unexpected, with her insistence on doing everything a Slayer doesn't and her improbable outfits, and her impossible grammar, her puns as devastating as her punches, and so he had let himself be swept away in the miracle of planning to defeat a god.

Now, in the cold light of dawn, the god has turned into a corpse under his hands, and there are no more miracles left.