He looked from the rift to the woman and back again. Clearly he's having some great inner debate with himself.

Finally he screamed at the rift. "Why isn't it ever anyone else's turn!? Why does it always, always come down to me?"

His rage was short-lived, though. Of course he would do what was necessary to protect those who can't protect themselves. He stared long and hard at the rift, then rejoined the small group.

He looked at the rift as if he was seeing something that wasn't there. Maybe seeing beyond it, into what was familiar to him. He whispered. "Good-bye."

And with that he raised his left hand and aimed it at the rift.