For a while, you remain where you are. A lot has happened in the last few minutes, and even more over the last hour, and it's impossible to deal with it all at once.
Right now, what you're struggling with is what you'll be leaving here—if you'll ever be able to get out of here—without. Even approaching the topic of Aunt Cavalcade means inviting a confused tangle of emotions and instincts into your mind, but you can at least latch on to one single thought.
Whatever you might think to yourself over the next several years, you know that you did the best you could, and you saved the world because of it.
It could have been worse. And it's not your fault.
Finally, you force your mind back to the present and gaze around at the scenery, looking for anything that might constitute an exit. The portal that you arrived through vanished once you passed through it, and it's starting to dawn on you that you'd been so concerned with preventing Renzfal's escape, you'd not given much thought to your own.
Then there's the sound of a whip cracking almost directly behind you.
You spin around, turning to see a small pot-bellied demon that comes up to your waist. It's got bright red, leathery skin, a pair of stubby black horns, and, to your surprise, a pair of neat round spectacles over its malevolent scarlet eyes.
"All right, all right," it says, shaking its head in what seems, as far as you can tell, to be exasperation. "Look, you've had your fun, okay? And I'm sure we're all really impressed. My word, a human in hell, preventing the fall of humanity under Renzfal—what larks. But enough's enough, you hear? You don't have to go home, but you can't stay in hell."
For a moment, you look at the demon. There's a very definite sense that it's waiting for an answer.