Even Hild found the Ginnungagap's gaze disquieting, so when it opened its eyes she turned away, perfectly able to send it home without watching. But as she turned it occurred to her that the beast had not opened its eyes to look at her. Such impudence would earn it great punishment—attempting to cow the Daimakaicho! No, it was looking at someone that had chosen to look at it and be cast into a void. She saw the mortal looking back, frozen, screaming and realized her mistake had been in warning him not to look.

Humans and their endless curiosity. It made them stupid. Even the most powerful of them just had to learn just a little more, see just a little farther, until, like all desires, their quest for knowledge overwhelmed reason and got them into trouble. For this Eric Paxton, relatively weak as his kind went, the trouble was great indeed. She watched him come apart and reconsidered her sudden fondness for him.

"Shit."

He was reaching up to her as though she was the embodiment of salvation. This would not do.

Even if he only ever served to amuse her by getting caught up in one of her schemes against the goddesses, she had no wish to witness what was happening to him to its very end. In fact, she realized, she wished to see it stop.

She cast a simple spell down onto him, blinding him, but not for long. He'd need his sight again soon to finish pulling himself from whatever dark place he was in.

Turning back to face the Ginnungagap she pulled one bracelet from her left wrist.

"Playtime is over. I'm sending you home right now. This may kill you a bit."

In the dark, orbiting something even darker. Eric was buffeted by a din from outside him then bounced by a quake. Then it all ended, and the silence crushed him. Behind it distant echoes sulked back from whatever mountain they came up against.

The void within receded somewhat, folded in on itself, trying to pull him with it. It was torture to resist, a wrenching in his emotional core that promised to cease if only he followed a few thousand negative thoughts to their conclusion. When he could see no way out something warm and soft took his hand and he remembered there had been something he had been doing before all hell had broken loose.

He could see again, and the first thing he saw were a pair of expressive blue eyes full of tears. Cool Mint held his hand, her grip weak and her body trembling.

Eric remembered. He had been doing nothing but feeling helpless. But now he had an idea of what he could do. He knew he was not the suitable host, but maybe, just maybe, Cool Mint's present state would demand little from him. The college kid had done it, right? Eric didn't have the love of goddesses to support him, but he didn't have a healthy angel to support either. Just for a little while. Somebody would come.

His voice came through in a croak, his throat seared and raw.

"Cool Mint. I'll take you."

Nothing happened. The angel just continued to look at him, her brow furrowed.

"Please. I'll... carry you."

He found he needed her with him. There was emptiness within and while she didn't have to fill it, she could at least watch it with him. It was selfish.

"I... I promise I'll..."

She was still not moving, either refusing him or unable. Since there were no other options but to quit or carry her as far as he could, he got to work.

Rind too was lighter than she looked, but he had to strain to take care as he picked her up and set her over one shoulder without jarring her. Then he scooped up Cool Mint with his left arm. To her credit, she reached up and put one arm around his neck, her other finding Rind and helping to keep her in place.

In the next movement he found that only his run up the hill had drained his strength, not the beast. His legs complained but were responsive, allowing his to rise to his feet and start walking. He could not be sure which way to go, but the last vestiges of twilight glimmered to his right and after a moment of tired disorientation he decided he was facing south. Angling a little to the left he started downhill. He could see road a hundred yards away, which he hoped to follow to the base of the mountain, where he then hoped to encounter someone who both spoke English and was not alarmed by the sight of a westerner carrying two women, one of them practically naked with a single damaged wing sprouting from her back. It was improbable, he admitted to himself, but how much more so than the idea of an average man waking up one morning and within an hour meeting the leader of Hell and being the most able of a group consisting of man, and angel, and a goddess after an encounter with a vast, semi-visible beast with yellow clouds for eyelids that peeled back to reveal...

No!

The visual memory, he guessed, would be debilitating after which he truly would be useless.

As though reading him, Cool Mint squeezed him with her right arm.

"I know."

Several more plodding steps down the mountain and, "You know, hundred miles is nothing. I can do ten in about three hours."

She squeezed him again.

"I'll get you home. I promise. I'll take you home."

With another step there was a flash of light and his left arm was empty. Eric fell to his knees and anguished present beside him in his mind.

"Atta girl," he croaked. "Sorry about the mess in there." He tired to get to his feet, his left arm free to help push off from the ground. His energy ebbing at a noticeable rate he was barely able to get upright before his knees began to shake violently.

"No worries. Just one step."

He took a step and stayed up.

"And another."

He took a second.

"We'll make it to Belldandy and—"

On the third his left knee buckled followed at once by his right. He fell.

Instead of the harsh, pebbly side of a mountain a bush broke his fall, halting him high enough up the he spun and tumbled out into an opening, onto dirt, but far softer than he had just been walking on. He tried to rise enough to get off of Rind's legs, pinned beneath him, but he was draining away and he could not understand where.

A girl's voice spoke to him short distance away. He rolled his eyes in the right direction and saw a young her pulling up the sleeves. Delusional, Eric thought he saw seams on her wrists. The girl seemed angry, her words unintelligible. It took him a beat to realize she was speaking Japanese. A mechanical sound took his attention elsewhere to the sight of a red and white bulbous robot with a wide hat, which it was taking off to reveal what looked like a missile launcher beneath.

"Help," Eric said.

Farther away came the sound of wood sliding against wood and a muted shout. Then footsteps, Eric could no longer move enough to look at where these were coming from. His consciousness gave out as hands reached him and rolled him over. The last thing he saw was a face from a dream.