As they sneak along, putting more distance between themselves and the fray, Hellboy draws his gun again, dumping the brass and loading in fresh rounds from a pouch on his belt with long-practiced motions. Benji's name causes the slightest fractional rise of one eyebrow for a moment (because sometimes he is something of an old fogey), but that's about it because, indeed, he is not really in a position to judge.

"Not as such," he says as he checks around a corner that the coast is clear before they move on. "The ones I fought, they used to be human, but they basically got turned into the spawn of an ancient horror from beyond the stars. There's nothing of the old them left to speak of."

But how did there get to be so many, he thinks to himself. He'd have been told if they'd popped back up again. Or maybe not. I mean, I have been away. That brings him up short, suddenly unsure of things. Haven't I?