She thought about all that had happened. Was it really still the same day? It was, though not for much longer, and so much had happened. Too much. She needed sleep. Bobby and Presto were sleeping against each other. Uni slept at their feet. Eric and Diana were talking, but she couldn't hear what they said.

She looked up at the sky. The clouds had moved on, and she could see stars twinkling above. Dreamily, she remembered how she would wish on stars when she was a kid. She thought of Bobby and wished that things were as simple as he saw them. A part of her was certainly glad of Shadow Demon's death, but all she could do was inwardly sigh with relief that there was one less evil to consider. It was the circumstances of that death that made it something they couldn't celebrate. There was nothing noble, nothing heroic, in what Hank had done.

Sheila thought of going over and talking to Hank. But what would she say? Everything she thought of sounded pointless or inadequate. But now, she saw, she didn't have to. Hank was getting up. Sheila patted a hand on the ground behind her to get the others' attention. "Here he comes," she whispered. In the failing light of dusk, Sheila saw an eerie luminescence outlining him, like before, though not as bright. It was barely perceptible to her eyes, like it was there yet not.

Sheila rose, as did they all, in anticipation of what, she did not know. "Hank?" said Sheila as she stepped in front of him. "Are you OK?"

He stared into her eyes and brought his hands to her face. So intense was his gaze that she couldn't look away, though the uncharacteristic lust in his eyes was making her uncomfortable. No, this was not the Hank she knew, not her Hank at all.

"I'm always OK when I'm with you," he finally said. "You give me strength, Sheila. But I need more to destroy Venger. I need more power so that next time . . . I won't fail," he said with a shake of his head. "I won't fail any of you."

"What do you mean, Hank?" As she looked into his eyes, their hair began blowing about their faces, and Hank smiled. It brightened the whole of his body. Then they were all surrounded by an array of revolving colors and bright swirling energies. She felt Hank's hands on her shoulders with a firm grip that told her to be still. "What's happening? Hank�"

She wasn't the only one voicing surprise and confusion.

"Shh," Hank softly said to her as he brushed her hair from her face. "Don't be afraid."

Suddenly, it came to her. "Not the Graveyard," she begged.

His silence answered her, as did his change of expression. It grew colder somehow, and the smile receded slightly. The Graveyard was exactly where they were going. No, she thought, as the scenery changed around them. It was where they already were!

She looked around. It was pretty much as they'd left it. Piles of bones, scorch marks from the battle, and there . . . the place where it had happened. The little island of rock where Venger had been pinned by Presto, released by Hank. The bright yellow-orange glow from what must have been underground lava was now a dull red.

"The Dragons' Graveyard," Presto whispered, looking up and around.

Sheila looked up and wondered if it was always night here.

She didn't want to be here. There were only bad memories of this place. Things could have gone so wrong. Things could have changed for the worse. Some things had changed � those things mostly had to do with Hank. She had considered them all lucky to have come out of the whole ordeal with nothing more than a few issues to resolve amongst themselves. Now they were all here again, and she couldn't help but feel they were tempting Fate.

"What are we doing here?" Diana asked.

"Whaddya think?" Eric muttered angrily.

Sheila looked to Hank, but he ignored them. She watched as he stepped toward that place, staring at that rock. She thought of Venger pinned there, helpless. She had only ever seen fear in Venger when he was in Tiamat's presence. But what she had seen in Venger's face at that fateful moment was mortal fright. And she had felt for him. It was a feeling she had struggled with ever since.

Sheila stared at the island rock, replaying the scene in her mind, seeing it there. Seeing him there. The fear in his eyes. And then the arrow rushing towards him. She hadn't been able to watch.

There was a sudden blast of white light and the rock shattered into nonexistence. She shielded her eyes and screamed. She heard the others' screams and shouts, too.

"What the hell, Hank!" Eric shouted. No one else said a word.

Sheila's heart was pounding and she brought a shaking hand to her chest as she fought to calm down. Again she could not help but think of Venger, how she had only ever felt such fear in his presence. She looked at Hank and found him looking right into her eyes. Another jolt of fear took her at the look of hatred on his face, and she started to cry. It was all too much. She let her trembling legs go underneath her and she collapsed to sit on the ground, covering her face as she sobbed. She wanted all this to end!

"Eric, don't!"

Sheila heard Diana's voice and looked up, bewildered. Eric was standing in front of her with the end of the trident pointed at Hank. Hank was close now, and Eric had armed himself and stepped between them.

"Back off, Hank!" Eric yelled, holding the trident like it was a shot gun.

Sheila scrambled to get up. Diana was suddenly behind her, helping her. She saw the whip in Diana's hand. "Where's Bobby?" Then she saw him. He had the sword, barely, struggling to hold it the way he held his club and failing. His eyes were wide as he watched with a lost expression on his young face. Presto was beside him, limply holding the wand, clearly not eager to try to use it.

"Bobby, put the sword down. We can't fight each other!" She had wanted to say it like she meant it, because she did, but it came out more like a question she was afraid to learn the answer to.

And Eric delivered her dreaded answer: "No! We all know what he's here to do, don't we? You're all thinking the same thing I am. Our own weapons aren't enough for him. He wants them all! We can't let him have these!"

"I'm not the enemy, Eric. Give it to me," Hank said.

"No!"

Hank came forward slowly, radiating luminescence.

"J-just stay where you are, Hank. I will use this." Eric raised his new weapon. "I . . . I mean it!"

Bobby and Presto came to stand with Sheila and Diana. Sheila held Bobby tightly. She felt so powerless. She wished she could stop this. Hank was still advancing on Eric, and she couldn't believe how brave Eric was to stand up to him like this. Hank had nearly reached Eric now. Eric gripped the trident more tightly and it sparked to life in his hands; it popped and crackled as lightning flashed at its end, ready to be released.

"Give it to me, Eric," Hank said in a new, eerie double voice. "Trust me." The way he said it gave Sheila shivers and goosebumps.

When Hank reached out to take it from him, Eric pulled it back. "I'm sorry, Hank, . . . really." Eric then let loose a bolt that hit Hank full in the chest.

"No!!" Sheila screamed.

Hank staggered back at first, but then regained his footing and once again advanced on Eric. Eric kept the weapon's energy steady on Hank, who continued to close in on him.

Sheila watched in disbelief as Eric and Hank faced each other. She tried to tell them to stop, but her voice was so small that it went unheard under the static noise � if her voice had escaped her at all.

Hank reached out again, slowly. His breathing was slow and deep, and in his face was a picture of set determination � pure will. He gripped one prong of the trident. His expression now a mixture of pain and amazement as he continued to stare directly into Eric's eyes. But then that changed. His eyes widened. He smiled, almost laughed, and the weapon died in Eric's hands as lightning popped and buzzed around the whole of Hank's body.

Eric dropped the trident and backed away, nearly stumbling onto everyone.

The power of the trident quieted, the glow of energy receded within Hank. He took a deep breath and looked at Diana. And then he reached out his hand. "Diana. . . ."

"Leave her alone!" Eric shouted.

Hank grabbed him by the collar. "Get out of my way!" He threw him aside and took a step toward Diana. "The whip, Diana."

Sheila turned around and looked at Diana. She'd never seen such an expression before. Not on anyone, except maybe in movies. She thought of how it might match Eric's tone of voice from earlier. The willingness to do something they thought they'd never do.

Hank shrugged at her as if to say he would deign to allow her a moment to comply. He turned his attention to Bobby. "I need the sword, Bobby." He reached toward the boy.

Bobby just looked at the sword as though unsure what to do.

"Bobby, do you want Venger dead?" Hank asked.

"Yeah. You know I do," Bobby answered.

Oh, Bobby. . . . Sheila's heart dropped to hear such a thing from her little brother. Such a young voice, agreeing that someone should be dead.

"Venger is powerful. So I must be even more powerful if I'm going to kill him, right?"

"I guess . . . yeah."

Sheila bowed her head and let the tears fall. This couldn't be happening.

"Will you trust me? Will you give me the sword?"

Bobby went toward Hank, but Diana grabbed him. "No, Bobby! It's changing him! Don't do it!"

Bobby jerked his arm away. "Get off! Hank's right!" He walked up to Hank and held the handle of the sword out to him, the blade dragging the ground. "Here, Hank."

"Thanks, Bobby." The sword glowed brightly as Hank held it up, looking at it almost lovingly. Soon the glow died, having been transferred to Hank. His eyes closed and the sword dropped from his hand as he let his head slowly fall back.

"Sorry, Diana, Eric, but I'm not fighting this. He's just going to take it anyway," Presto said, holding out the wand and approaching Hank like he only wanted to get as close to him as he absolutely had to.

Hank just smiled and nodded to Presto as he took the wand from him, and Presto quickly backed away.

At that instant, Diana lashed out with the whip and caught the wand, instantly flinging it away. Then she recast it to coil around Hank's neck. He pulled Diana off her feet toward him, but she used this to launch herself at him. Hank released the whip and caught her, and they both fell to the ground.

Sheila watched as Diana put all her focus and strength into choking Hank. She had read Diana's face right � it looked like she was trying to kill him.

Hank threw Diana off of him, but Diana only rolled and was soon poised again to leap at Hank. But she never did. She wasn't moving. She seemed frozen.

Hank rose and began to unwind the whip from his neck, the glow of its power ran through it as it was uncoiled. It reminded Sheila of an IV tube. Energies went toward the tip until they were emptied into Hank. Drained of its power, it was cast aside.

"Diana," Sheila said, finally finding her voice, weak and strained though it was.

"She's all right; they all are," Hank answered.

All? Sheila looked around at her friends. All motionless. Statues.

"What have you done? Why are you doing this? They're your friends! They trusted you!"

"I did it because they're my friends. And because they don't understand. Did Eric sound like he trusted me?" Hank moved toward Sheila, but she backed away. "Sheila, there's so much more going on here. I don't even understand it all myself. I only know that I have to do this, OK? I didn't mean for any of this to happen, but now that it has . . . I have to carry it through. I'm the only one who can."

They only looked at each other for a moment before Hank turned and walked away. He whipped an arm out and the glowing, ghostly whip lashed out to retrieve the wand. After taking its power, he found the horn. He lifted it to his lips and a pulse moved from it into Hank. To Sheila, it looked like he drank its power.

"We shouldn't be here, Hank. Just take us back. What if Tiamat shows up? Hank, please. I'm scared!"

"Tiamat's no threat to me, now." He said this so casually that he might have been talking about football tryouts rather than a monstrous five-headed dragon. "Besides," he added as he found and picked up the mace, "she isn't here."

"Hank. . . . Please don't do this. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do."

"Hank, it's changing you! You're different! Please . . . you have to listen to me! Look at what you've done!" She touched Bobby's frozen face and felt the tears coming. She couldn't help it.

Hank whirled around, glowing mace in hand, and walked quickly toward her. "Don't! Don't be like them!" He pointed accusingly at the others frozen around them. "Not you, Sheila!"

He squeezed the mace. It's power flared, hummed, died. He flung it away, and then his body ignited with white light. It was like he was on fire. It brought to her mind pictures of biblical angels from her childhood. He raised his hands and balled them into fists, studying the power that emanated from himself.

Sheila felt she could faint. She had seen too much for one day, and was exhausted from lack of sleep and too much worry. But she couldn't let herself slip away like that. Everyone needed her, though she still didn't know what she could do against Hank's power. He was unstoppable, possibly invincible.

He went to her and embraced her tightly. "It's OK. Please don't cry, and please don't ask me not to do this. I have to. Don't you understand? I have to!" He held her a while longer, and she let herself lean into him. And then he said, "Oh, Sheila, don't make me silence you, too."

Her eyes widened and her heart fell to her stomach. His arms suddenly felt more like ropes binding her. She had to show him she was on his side. She couldn't help him, or the others, if he believed she was against him. It was up to her. She had to be strong.

"I do trust you, Hank," she said, willing herself to sound believable. "I think you are doing this to protect us. They can't know what it's like . . . to have these powers. I can't know. Only you do, and I believe in you." She gently pulled away and smiled up at him. "Is there anything you need me to do? I want to help you, but you have to tell me everything."

Hank shook his head. "You don't need to do anything. Just leave it all to me," he said with a smile.

That wasn't the answer she was hoping for.

He brought his hands to her face. His blue eyes shone and sparkled. His hair was like fire. His touch was electrifying. "You are my true strength," he said. "The power of our love is stronger, even, than this. You will never have to fear again as long as I am with you." He spoke so differently now. It reminded her of how Eric spoke when he was Dungeon Master, but with Venger's reverberation. Like something more than human. Perhaps he was, she thought.

"But I am afraid, Hank. Dungeon Master said you could lose more than you ever gained, remember?"

"Perhaps I have lost what I was, but see what I have become! I have the power to protect all of you, to protect the whole Realm! This is what I am meant to do." Then he moved his face closer to hers. "I do this for you. I love you, Sheila, and I am worthy to prove that now."

"Hank, I . . . I loved you before this happened. You were always worthy to me. You don't have to prove anything. You�"

He stopped her with a kiss. She had never been kissed like this before. She couldn't help but kiss him back. She had dreamed of this moment and was lost in it immediately, forgetting for now that Hank was not himself. It was dreamlike. She could feel the powers that flowed through him, and they caressed her. His light lit her eyelids. There was no darkness. But then his hands raked down her sides, coming to rest on her hips where he squeezed and pulled at her.

She ended the kiss. "Hank, stop it, please." She tried to pull away, but he wasn't ready to let go. He pulled at her more urgently and bit at her neck. "Hank, stop it!"

As though coming out of a trance, he seemed finally to realize what he was doing. He quickly released her. "I'm sorry. Sheila, I. . . ."

Sheila glanced at the others and then closed her eyes. "Just let them go. Please."

He hesitated, but then waved a hand in their direction, and they were released.

"What just happened?" Eric asked angrily.

"It's over, Eric. We tried," Diana told him as she glared at Hank.

Bobby found and picked up the magic wand. "They're all dead, aren't they? Just like our weapons."

Hank walked over and knelt down to him. "They are all alive . . . in me." Hank raised and flared a shimmering hand in front of his face like a magician entertaining a child. "And I will protect all of you. Venger will pay for all he has done."

Sheila was uneasy with Hank's being so close to her little brother. She began walking toward them when her foot snagged on something. She looked down to see the healing net that Dungeon Master had used to save Uni's life the first time they were here. Hank had overlooked it! She looked around. No one was watching her. She quickly grabbed the net and felt that same strange living feeling of it in her fingers. Quickly, she folded it and tucked it into her belt at her back. She hoped Hank wouldn't remember it, or find it.

"It's time to pay the Force of Evil a visit," declared Hank.

Tiamat raised her large red head and grumbled. The pale-haired human wanted a second chance at destroying Venger. And so he would have it. Any work against Venger she would aid, even if she had no real faith in that work.

He had taken all the powers of the weapons, except for the net, which the girl had found, as arranged. Tiamat had done her part. In truth, she could not care less for Dungeon Master's manipulations. But whatever his reasons, this she had agreed to do for him.

But Tiamat had her own plans, as well. She would be there, she decided, to finish Venger if the young human faltered again.