"He was smart," Anya pointed out, the loathing she felt towards the man clear in her voice. "It was a slow process, insidious. And he played everyone so expertly."
Humans and demons alike. He'd taken what he wanted from whoever he liked and then destroyed them when they no longer served his purpose.
"It started with that stupid television show. Harmony's. Starting the idea that Slayers were just killers. Then it became more, a campaign that Slayers were not just threats to poor little blonde vampires, but people too." Gods, it was so long ago, trying to remember how it all began was hard.
"He got out your records, both of you. Violence, suspected murder," she looked at Buffy, referencing the times the Sunnydale police had questioned her when she was little more than a child. "Actual murder in your case," she commented to Faith, as the brunette paled. "The security footage from your time at that club became an internet sensation. It helped make the people terrified of you all."
She shook her head. "That won't be what will stop him. That's already been done. You want to break him, you need to expose him. It's been twenty years and we still don't know who he was."
Faith looked up sharply at that. "Was? Past tense?"
Anya nodded. "With no Slayers left there was nothing to stop the Old Ones opening the Hellmouth in Cleveland. Twilight was killed, dragged into hell by something with really big tentacles."