Its finger into the new world was being forced to withdraw. The last bid of Chaos to make a great and terrible war had been foiled all thanks to the meddling of an insecure wizard, a neurotic young woman and a red-haired warrior's defiance.

The Raptors and Strays watched as an ancient evil slowly retreated back into its hole, its scream trickling to a whimper. And then it was gone. The hole it had dug through its own dimension vanished, ripping like water and then lying still. Croc's rift was likewise close and healed over.

It was all over but the crying. Despite being safe, Red still felt a tinge of sorrow when she looked at the ground where Chris was lying. Anya knelt on the ground and looked into the un-morphed and maddened expression of a man she had once known.

"It's not him," she said out loud. "It's not him."

The celebration was somewhat muted considering the circumstances.

They had just narrowly averted an apocalypse of biblical proportions.

Raptors and Strays mingled in the new Den engaged in numerous conversations. Most of them were genuinely pleased that there would be many more tomorrows for all of them. But not everyone was feeling relieved. Anya hadn't spoken to anyone since the battle. Neither had Red. She had collapsed shortly after Chaos had been banished.

Fighting an Elder God, even in your head, was apparently an exhausting process.

Jane and Robbie had been hovering over Red until she came too.

Arthur had been called in to check on her, and several other allies followed along. Red had defied a god . . . they all wanted to know how.

"You okay?" Jane whispered when Red stared up at her, one eye beautiful green and the other eerie and red.

"No," Red replied. "No, I'm not."

Arthur was investigating the warrior's red eye. "I take it"

"Nothing," Red interrupted. "I can't see anything with it." She closed that eye.

There was silence. Besla finally broke it.

"I don't understand. We won. You vanquished the enemy. Lothar sealed it away forever. Why is no one . . . elated?"

Red closed her other eye. "I can still taste my friend's blood," she muttered. "I killed Chris. I guess I don't feel like much of a winner."

“You didn't have a choice," Nat said. “I loved Chris too, but what you killed"

“It wasn't him," interrupted a soft and sorrowful voice. Anya was standing in the doorway, and the rest of the onlookers cleared a path. "I. . . I've been thinking for the last two hours. I've tried to figure out what It must have offered Chris . . . to make him turn."

Red and Anya just looked at each other for a moment. Both of them knew that Anya had a role in Chris's possession. That was something Anya would have to come to grips with on her own.

"How can you not hate me?" Red asked. "I know Chris was special .

“Chris was," Anya interrupted. “That . . . thing . . . wasn't Chris.

I've been grieving losing the man that was special. But he was gone before you killed what was left. You did what you have always done.

You made a decision that I never could have. The thing in Chris's body . . . it would've killed Lothar and the universe would have ended."