The axe hurdles over his head, inches from giving him a haircut, and into his outstretched hand. He slashes his scythe though the opening, and the rift ripples, then blows apart. He nods to him, and sighs. "I figured you'd let me die, or kill me, during the fight so you could say your job was done. Clearly I was wrong. Thank you." He holds out a hand to shake. "Allies?"