Kim appeared in the middle of the PNE Auditorium in the dark. Crushed plastic cups and beer cans were spread across the field like vanquished foes. They caught the light of the one moon in the sky. There were no gyrating ancient bodies or middle-aged mosh pit aficionados. The crowd was long gone, leaving behind the cloud of their exhalations and sweat.

  Fog drifted off the stage. The familiar smell of leftover smoke and vaping vapour hit her nostrils. The stage itself was empty. No grandpas banging at their instruments like teenagers. No pot lights casting satanic colours. It could have been weeks or years since the concert. But the stage still seemed to be alive. Deep inside her was the feeling that she should stand on that stage and sing. That it would be a place where she belonged. The memory of being at Hammersmith burned bright.

  Yet, would it be as outstanding as the Battle of the Bards? Looking down at her arms, she noted they were not as strong as before. In the moments it had taken to travel back to Earth, she had lost her Metal Health, her warrior power. Even her hair was shorter and less—how would she put it—metal. All of her was less metal. She was in the same hoodie and pants she'd been wearing the night of the Metal on Metal Mayhem Festival. Kim was back to normal again.

  Normal. It kinda sucked.

  Even her shoes were running shoes again, though they had jagged, tooth-like design along the sides. So they weren't exactly the same as the ones she'd been wearing when she left. Kim shoved a hand in her pocket to find her phone. It was at 10%. Her wallet was there, too. But in her other pocket she discovered the hilt of Strümbringer. She held it in the light; most people would see it as a stylized lump of steel that looked vaguely like a microphone.

  "I knew you'd come back," a man said. "Kim, right?"

  Kim spun around, gripping Strümbringer tight, assuming the blade would slide out and half expecting tentacles to be swinging wildly at her. But the hilt remained a hilt. And there were no tentacles.

  Instead, sitting on a blue lawn chair in the shadows, was a man. She squinted. He might be in his thirties, so not too geriatric. He was wearing an Anvil shirt.

  "How do you know my name?" she said.

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  "I'm Shayne," he replied. "I was eaten by the troll in the dungeon."

  "It was a j?rk," she corrected, knowing that Damon would be proud of her for being so picky. "Not that it matters. But I recognize you now. I'm relieved that you survived."

  "I was as surprised as anyone to pop back into this reality. Well, truthfully, it felt like it had happened before."

  It seemed silly to be pointing Strümbringer at him, so she put the hilt back in her pocket. "How long since the concert ended?"

  "About six hours," Shayne said. "The vendors were still open, so I picked up a shirt."

  "Only six hours? We were—I was on Metaloria for days. Weeks maybe." Time had been strange in that world. If he'd said the concert was six years ago, she wouldn't have been surprised.

  "It's a whole time dilation thing," he explained. "I read about this stuff on Reddit."

  "But how did you make it back here?" she asked.

  Shayne smiled, showing bright teeth. "I'm slippery; that's the only way I can explain it. When I was inside the jorky troll, I didn't panic. That wouldn't have helped. Instead, I thought about being here, and with a ploop, I was here."

  "That's all it took? We had to fight through a dungeon, ride on giant wolves, sing a song and meet Dio and defeat a wizard and then walk through an arch Dio had created out of a rainbow."

  "Ah, cool," Shayne said. "It's probably just me. I slip from thought to thought, job to job, country to country. So I slipped back to Earth. It all felt very déjà vu, but everything does. The concert was over by then. Anything else I missed in that other place?"

  "A lot."

  "You'll have to tell me about it someday." He handed her a piece of paper. "That's my number. You have a ride home?"

  "I'll Uber," she said.

  "I'm glad you're safe. And that other guy?" Shayne asked.

  "Damon stayed there. He liked Metaloria more than Earth."

  "Makes sense to me," Shayne said. He got a distant look as if he were trying to stare towards Metaloria. "I kinda miss it, even though I was swallowed. My guess is that getting back to your house will be a piece of cake compared to what you've been through."

  "I hope so," she said.

  "Take care." Shayne made the heavy metal horns sign. She awkwardly returned it. "Stay metal," he added, "and remember: this is your life. Live it." Then he got up out of the chair and walked into the darkness.

  Kim stood there for a few moments, drawing in her breath and centering herself. She then made her way out of the auditorium. There were no monsters walking on East Hastings Street, just taxis and cars and the occasional bus rolling along. It felt so normal.

  She put her hand on Strümbringer and was pleased the hilt was still warm with the magic of Metaloria. It was a connection to that other place.

  She could hear the faintest song.

  "Metal on metal!"

  She knew it was an Anvil song. Somehow, the words and music were still floating in the wind. And they stirred the little acorn of metal that had grown in her soul.

  Kim grew suddenly certain that the adventure was far from over.