It was a nice day.

A brilliant blue sky hung overhead, dotted with fluffy, white clouds that looked a lot like puffs of cotton. A warm breeze rustled the grass, and brushed across the fields of wheat… A little robin sang up in the trees somewhere, and insects chittered down below. The family farm really couldn't have been a more peaceful place if it tried.

Here, the horrors of the Underland and its wars seemed so very, very far away.

So why wouldn't those frightful images leave Gregor alone?

He could still remember it all so vividly… Each prophecy had been worse than the last, bringing more death, more pain, and more scars. And best of all, each had starred him as the Warrior, the one who was supposedly going to set it all right. But he hadn't, not really. He'd seen so many people die. Maybe they didn't look like people, but they thought, they felt, they understood, just like any human. So, what was the difference, really..?

And then there had been the last prophecy, the worst.

… And when the Warrior has been killed...

Gregor could still remember, thinking back… How he had prepared himself for the final battle, believing with unsettling certainty that he wasn't going to come back alive. Knowing this was his last goodbye, defeating an evil too terrible to let live. The recognition that in the end, he and the Bane weren't so different… Both just tools of fate, puppets to Sandwich's prophecies, forced into a role they never asked for.

Except, he hadn't died.

"Gregor, look!" A familiar little voice called out, snapping the former Warrior from his thoughts. Blinking, he glanced down– and spotted the source; his little sister, Boots. A lone butterfly had landed right on her nose, and the girl's eyes were crossed to watch it. Gregor grinned, hopping off the tree stump where he was perched… If there was one thing Boots was good at, it was cheering up everyone around her. That was one thing that had never changed– and Gregor hoped it never would.

The tiny, colorful creature flapped its wings, prompting a giggle from Boots. Even after everything they had been through, she was just so… Innocent. Did she even remember what had happened? If so, the little girl sure didn't show any signs of it.

"That's a really pretty one," Gregor commented, and it really was, too. Vivid colors and intricate patterns were traced across the delicate wings, like carefully crafted stained glass windows. The sunlight caught them just right, making them shine… Or was there something more to it than that?

Suddenly the insect took flight, fluttering a few circles around their heads. Boots let out a surprised "Oh!" and watched it with interest, eyes wide. It lingered briefly, then headed off for the woods… Gregor's sister started to follow, until he caught her shoulder protectively, a sudden feeling of caution rising in his chest.

What was that glint between the trees just now? Had it been his imagination… Or was that the gleam of watching eyes?

"Boots," he suggested, "Wanna go swing? I'll push you."

"Yeah!" she agreed immediately, the butterfly already forgotten.

It wasn't the first time that Gregor had seen strange things since the family moved to Virginia. Part of him wondered if the wars he'd fought in had finally taken their toll, and he was beginning to imagine new dangers now that there were no real ones to face.

It would certainly explain a lot.

"Higher!" commanded Boots brightly, and Gregor gave her another push on the handcrafted wooden swing. It hung from an old oak tree beside the house, and nobody was really sure how old it was, exactly; it'd been built pretty sturdy though, that was for sure. It was little more than a wooden plank with a few holes and rope, but sometimes that was all you needed.

If only everything could be that simple.

Boots giggled with glee as Gregor pushed her again… She'd always loved the Fliers down in the Underland. Maybe riding a swing wasn't too comparable to soaring through the dark on the back of a giant, sentient bat, but it was probably the closest you could get in the Overland.

A sudden movement caught Gregor's eye. A few birds had gathered in the branches up above them; strange as it was, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were watching them. Great job Gregor, now you're suspicious of crows. They really did look like crows, actually, or maybe ravens… Though their red eyes looked maybe a bit too bright.

Wait… Since when do crows have red eyes?

"Gregor, Boots!" called their mother's voice from the farmhouse's backdoor. "Time for dinner!" The boy shook the odd thoughts from his head… There's no way. I'm definitely losing it.

"Coming, mom!" he yelled back, looking back to Boots. As she came back down, he reached out and caught the ropes, slowing her to a stop. "Time to head inside, Boots."

"Awwwwwwww," came the response, but before she could complain any further, Gregor playfully scooped her off the swing, doing a little twirl with the girl in his arms; her frown had switched back to a smile within moments. Setting her back down, the boy led the way back to the house…

… A few strange screeching cries came from the tree. He glanced back at the birds. A chill shot straight down his spine as their eyes met his. They're still watching us.

Gregor didn't take his gaze off them until he and his sister were both safely inside.

"So, Gregor, have you met anyone nice at school yet?"

It was always the same question, and always the same response.

"Well, I've been sitting with a couple kids at lunch…"

The truth was, Gregor barely talked to them, but it wasn't really because he didn't want to. It was almost like he couldn't help it anymore. The boy had never been especially outgoing as it was, and after everything that had happened… He just didn't feel like a part of this world anymore.

"Lizzie, how's your science project going?" Gregor's father interjected, recognizing the tension. Gregor gave him a grateful look, then resumed munching on a corn cob… Anything that got the spotlight off of him was definitely appreciated. Besides, he'd been wondering how Lizzie's model was going, too; she was doing a model of the solar system, with accurate relative sizes, too. Gregor had seen her working on it a few times, and he had to admit it was looking pretty impressive even back then.

The question brought her right into the conversation, and soon enough she was happily chattering about how far she'd gotten, and how many moons Jupiter had, and the size difference between Earth and Mars.

It was always nice, seeing her get so excited about science. Lizzie was definitely the one who'd inherited their dad's brilliant mind.

And then there's me, the guy who's just good at killing things.

Maybe that was a little harsh, but it was true. While Lizzie had helped solve break the code that won the Underland's war, Gregor's own skill had been an unexpected one. He had been discovered to be what the Underlanders call a Rager, someone with a remarkable set of reflexes and natural instinct for combat. It wasn't exactly something Gregor was proud of.

Maybe it had saved his life, but it had taken a lot of others in return.

"That's really cool," Gregor told her appreciatively, even if a lot of what she'd said flew right over his head. "Maybe you can bring it out and show us after dinner?"

"I can do that!" Lizzie agreed briskly, more than happy to share her work so far. "It's not all painted yet, but you can still tell the planets apart."

The rest of dinner was filled with cheery chatter about the wonders of the universe, and Gregor was pretty okay with that. It was just nice to have a normal conversation, really. For a little while, they could have been a perfectly ordinary family, with a perfectly ordinary past.

Gregor wished that feeling could last forever.

Classes the next day would have been pretty normal, if it wasn't for the vampire teaching his English class.

"Hello," spoke an unfamiliar voice as Gregor took a seat… "I am Ms. Smith, and I will be your substitute teacher today." He glanced to the substitute in question; a young lady was standing at the blackboard, with pretty red curls, and sharp green eyes. For some reason, Gregor was oddly conflicted. On the one hand, there was just something so… Likable about her, as though you could just feel the charisma pouring off the lady.

But on the other, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was… Wrong.

I'm just being paranoid again. I mean, she's just a teacher.

Gregor shoved his anxiety back down, and got out his notebook. Whatever feelings of confusion and uncertainty he felt, they could wait for later. For now, he had more pressing issues. Like, say, the notes she was already scratching out on the board…

The rest of the class had been ordinary enough, but just as Gregor was about to head out the door…

"Dear, you seem unwell," the sub told him, catching Gregor off-guard. "Would you mind staying after class?" He blinked, a bit confused by the odd behavior… And by the realization that he hadn't even heard her coming.

"I have another class after this, can I come back after school instead?" There was an odd flash in her eyes, for just a moment. Irritation?

"… Very well, but do hurry back."

The grip on his arm released… It wasn't until that moment he realized just how strong it had been. This teacher was getting stranger and stranger… Maybe the warning bells in his head weren't as incorrect as he'd thought.

She's just a teacher. Nothing to be afraid of.

Gregor's next classes seemed almost to fly by, thoughts of the bizarre incident running through his mind… Just what was going on? What was she wanting him to come back for? Who was this person, anyway?

I'm just over-thinking this. That's all.

Before he knew it, the bell had rung ending his last class… And without even thinking about it, he found himself back at that door. The room where his English class was, and where that weird sub had wanted to meet him…

This doesn't feel right.

He reached out, and opened the door. Ms. Smith was on the other side, waiting. How did she know I was here? Gregor stepped inside, and the door shut behind him. There's something weird about that smile. She looked maybe a little too happy to see him.

As she led the teen back further into the room, an odd sound caught his attention… A metallic noise, right in time with one of her footsteps. A metal leg? Prosthetic, maybe? She did walk a bit strangely, come to think of it. Why hadn't he noticed that before?

"So, dear," she asked in a voice like silk, "Does anyone else know you're here?" That's a weird question. Why would she ask that?

"No," he answered automatically. Why did I tell her that? The woman's smile widened. Her teeth look weird. Are those fangs? The alarm bells were ringing again, louder than ever before. Every fiber of his being wanted to take off– or maybe plow a desk through the whatever-it-was standing before him.

Eyes like burning coals watched him with interest, like one might inspect an insect crawling on the ground. She's not human. Gregor wasn't sure why that thought came to mind, but suddenly he was certain of it.

"Good. I wouldn't want anyone interrupting my audience with the famed 'Warrior,' now would I?"

How does she know–

Gregor never got the chance to finish that thought, because the next moment, the creature standing before him was no longer Ms. Smith.

Red hair twisted into flames, fingers into wicked claws… But weirder still, it looked as though half her body was made of brass. One arm, and one leg… No, one hoof. Her metal leg was that of a goat, or it sure looked that way.

This is a dream. Just a bad dream.

"Now, hold still. This will only take a moment."