Laying on the hospital bed, Phil gazed at the overhead fluorescent lighting. He hadn't been the same since the battle. He didn’t trust the Helm anymore. What had once been a blessing was turning to a curse. Phil flexed his fingers, or at least tried to. Between the enchanted sword and the Fenrir’s teeth, his arm had been torn to literal ribbons in places, revealing the broken bone beneath. Phil wasn't sure if he would be able to use it again. He wasn't sure if he would be able to use the Helm again. Even though he hadn't put the Helm on since the fight, he had still been hearing Nabu's voice in his head, but it was softer, like an echo in a cave.

Once again Fenrir, or rather Magnus, entered the room. Like last time, he mumbled an apology to Phil. His tone was halting and low; he was still unaccustomed to his renewed human voice. Phil did not look at him. [i]I hope he doesn't take it personally...[/i] Phil thought. [i]I hope Nabu doesn't see him. Or hear him. Or however it is that he seems to know what happens to me. I don't know how he even perceives anything. He's just a helmet, after all.[/i]

[i]"The wolfman returneth."[/i] Nabu's languid voice echoed once more in Phil's head. [i]"His form was so easily changed. But his mind, that is more of a challenge. Still now, it stirs with animalistic urges. I could change that. Or I could change him back to a beast. I long ago mastered the art of shape-changing. Wolf, bear, lion. Take your pick."[/i] Nabu chuckled. Phil rolled over, trying to get away from the voice. He saw that Magnus had left some time ago.
[i]”However, if you as I say, I will do you a favor: I won’t change your dear friend back into that wild beast. All you have to do is place my Helm upon that feeble head of yours. I’m sure you would be able to do that, now wouldn’t you? It’s over there on the table.”[/i]

Phil glanced, spying the Helm. [i]How did that get there? Maybe they just brought it in with me…[/i] Phil thought.

[i]”Be quick about it, boy! Put on the Helm!”[/i] Nabu yelled. [i]”I do believe that your so-called friend is growing fur as we speak.”[/i]

Hesitantly, Phil reached out, grabbing the magic helmet. He could here Nabu’s voice get louder and louder as he slowly put it on.

[i]”Now I have you!”[/i] Nabu screamed once the Helm was on Phil’s head. In a flash of light, Phil blinked out of this world to someplace… else.

A plain stretched out in front of Phil, dead and dark like old leather. Scraggly branches twisted their way from the dry earth towards the grey skies as a final reminder that they had once been trees. A single tower rose above the bleak landscape. [i]Where did he teleport me? I didn’t even know he could do that to me. He must be up in that [url=http://s1174.photobucket.com/user/riurikid/media/tof_zpsd139949a.png.html]Sauron look-alike[/url], considering its the only thing around.[/i] Phil shivered, noting that he was in his street clothes, rather than the regalia of Fate. [i]And where is the Helm?[/i]