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Spike groaned as the light began to pour through him. It was filling every bit of his chest, and trickling - no, rushing - into his limbs. His skin felt like it was going to crawl right off, and the light was almost blinding. It was worse than the few times he had been exposed to sunlight, worse than when Drusilla had turned him, worse than getting his soul.

But in a way, it was kind of... good. The power that filled him was almost soothing, like he knew that he was doing something right. Something heroic. It didn't make the pain go away, but it helped him withstand it. And as Buffy ran to his side, her eyes filled with tears for his well-being, his non-existent heart swelled even more.

It felt... it felt... effulgent.