#The Lost Tomb 3 1x06 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

damn-stark · 2 years ago

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Chapter 3 All for love

Chapter 3 of Moon Star

A/N- I hope you guys like this chapter

Warning- Violence, blood and weapons, angst, fluff, Khonshu, cliff ending

Pairing- Marc Spector x daughter!reader

Episode- 1x04 & (part of) 1x06

————

*6 YEARS AGO*

“Marc! Where have you been! I’ve been calling all day! I don’t—”

“Dad,” Marc cuts his father off and his bottom lip trembles as his eyes once again fill with tears again. “It’s…” his words trail since he can’t manage to even repeat what he witnessed, who he lost.

“Marc?” Elias asks softly. “What’s wrong? Is y/n okay? Your mother wants to talk to her.”

Marc drops his head and looks at his hand that was now clean of the dust that had covered his hand just last night. He then clenches it into a fist as he’s bombarded with the memory of you turning to dust in his arms.

“Y/N,” Marc stammers. “She…” he sniffles and can’t hold back his tears. “She’s gone. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t—she just disappeared in my arms.”

There's nothing but silence from his dad, but in the background he can hear his mother, crying and screaming, again. And he couldn’t handle it, hearing her, it reminded him of the past, filled him with too many bad memories.

“I’m sorry,” Marc quickly says before he ends the call.

——

*NOW.*

“We can’t lose more time,” Layla breaks the long silence that had built over time. “Harrow must be headed back to the tomb.”

You pull your earphones off and let them hang over your shirt.

“Look, if he is,” Layla continues. “We’re gonna need Marc, yeah?” She tells Steven, who is now sitting up front after sitting back with you until dawn.

There’s a brief silence before Steven just blurts, “no.”

You furrow your eyebrows and Layla answers for you. “No?”

“No, see the thing is, we made a deal, Marc and I,” Steven explains and piques your interest. “That when he was done with Khonshu, he would disappear for good.”

What?

Marc decided that? He decided that and didn’t bother to even fix things, or say anything about this plan? Not even a goodbye? He just wants to leave…again?

“You guys made a deal?” Layla questions, and you grab the two front seats to pull yourself forward between her and Steven.

“That he would just disappear from our life?” Layla continues and points at you and herself. “And you didn’t think that maybe we should’ve been made aware of that?”

Steven glances back before looking ahead and saying, “oh.” He turns his head and looks between Layla and you. “Well, hadn't he disappeared from your lives already?”

True, but….it wasn’t the same. Before there was still a chance to see him again, now with this “deal”, it doesn’t seem plausible.

Regardless, Layla nods. “Yeah, I mean, whatever. His suit was his best feature, wasn't it? Didn’t even have that anymore. Plus, I know him. He’d wanna lone wolf this whole thing.”

You hum in agreement and faintly smirk. “And that’s not happening,” you add. “We’re not gonna do that. I mean we’ve come all this way.”

Steven nods. “We are not,” he says, “it’s just the three of us. The pack, and the open road.”

You immediately look over at him and snort at his comment.

It’s not bad, it’s just funny that’s all.

“What?” Steven questions you with a nervous laugh.

You sit back as you notice you’re approaching your destination and shake your head as you reassure him. “Nothing man…just funny. You’re funny.”

Steven laughs more and parts his lips to add something else, but Layla then comes to a harsh stop Steven doesn’t expect and jerks forward.

“We’re gonna go on foot from here,” Layla lets him know and puts on the handbrake before opening the door and getting off.

“Yeah, all right,” he mutters.

You sigh and grab your backpack off the seat before getting off and facing the amazing landscape that’s ahead of you, feeling the morning sun already burning your skin.

You put your hood over your head as you wait for Layla and Steven to get ready, and just check your phone one last time in a desperate hope you’d get some service. But nothing.

“Waiting on a response from your spider friend?” Layla teases as she passes you by.

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile faintly before you set off after her. “No,” you partially lie. “Just wondering why in the 5 years half of humanity was gone, no one invented better cell towers….maybe I need to invent…” you trail off and Steven questions the previous comment in concern.

“Spider friend?”

You hum and fall behind to walk alongside him. “He’s a…hero kind of person that goes by Spider-Man because he has spider-like powers.”

Steven's eyes widen and he quickly retorts. “Does he shoot webs out of his…” he pauses points behind him. “Out of his butt?”

You snicker and shake your head. “No, out of his wrist with this gadget. That’d be funny though, imagine,” you chuckle.

Stevens' frightened face falls and he breathes out in relief, “Oh—wait like Night-Monkey?”

You furrow your eyebrows and look over at him. “Who?” You question.

“Well on this side of the pond there was this hero type person who saved a bunch of people from monsters and he used webs to swing so the media called him Night-Monkey.”

You hum. “Really? That’s…” you hum. “That’s cool. I’ll have to look him up.”

“Come on, you two,” Layla shouts over her shoulder. “Faster or they’ll beat us to the tomb.”

Once again you catch up to Layla. You continue to walk through miles of sand, through huge rock formations, past a random goat on an archway. You walk under the sun that gets hotter, past cave openings, and up steep rock formations until finally you reach an abandoned camp left behind by Harrow and his followers.

“Let’s check for supplies,” Layla comments, and you both break away from Steven to try and collect supplies like flashlights, matches and stranded bullets.

There wasn’t much to use, most of the useful stuff seemed to have been taken, and or nothing here was useful or valuable enough whatsoever. So as far as collecting goes, there was nothing to collect but….sand…silence, and thoughts.

Most of those thoughts of course were about the man in your company. As the silence roamed, and you searched all your mind could drift to was how Layla could smile at him so sweetly, how she could…just be around him without thinking about Marc, without being furious.

There were moments in time that it was plausible for you, that that anger fell as you heard Stevens' accent and heard his comments, just like a bit ago in the car, but that anger was quick to return.

You wanted to ask her, you kept staying closer to her as you worked up the courage, but you were slightly afraid Steven would walk in at any moment, so you stay quiet and continue to look through the tent.

Albeit, Layla could see through you, over this past year of traveling and collecting stuff together, she quickly knew how to read you. You were easier to read than Marc, for that she was grateful.

“What is it?” She probes, startling you.

“Hm?” You hum and pretend you don’t know what she’s talking about. You keep looking through stuff and wander away from her, causing her to follow you.

“You need to say something, spill it,” she keeps pushing.

You stay quiet and unroll a map to pretend to be interested in whatever it contained. “I…nope.”

Layla groans and walks to you to pull the map away from your hands, “spill, now.”

You hold her gaze for a second before you sigh deeply and drop your head. “How…” you pause and bite the inside of your cheek first before looking up at her and continuing. “How do you do it? How is it so easy for you to differentiate them?”

Layla blinks and drops her head to huff out slowly before facing you and helping you as best as she could. “It’s not easy. It wasn’t. But Marc is dealing with something different, something we have to learn to understand. Steven isn’t Marc. And Marc isn’t Steven.”

“Obviously,” you grumble before you step back and turn to face nothing in particular, you just need to gather your thoughts. “I just…don’t know how to be where you are. I look at him and…all I feel is anger. Sadness.” You rub your bottom lip and shake your head.

“It’s understandable,” Layla assures you and steps towards you. “We’re all different. Just…don’t take your anger out on Steven. It’s not his fault.”

You drop your hand from your mouth and grab a random lighter whilst you make your chest rise as you draw in a deep breath. “I know,” you breathe out.

“Take your time, okay?” Layla continues, and you feel her hand on your shoulder. “Now come on. Let’s get in that cave.”

You stuff the lighter in your pocket and turn with her to head out of the tent and meet up with Steven. After that you proceed to head to a different entryway to the cave; one that makes you gear up to climb down.

“I have to say, I feel like I’ve been waiting for this my whole life,” Steven comments while Layla helps put his gear on, making you slowly slide your eyes over in slight disgust over the way they were positioned.

“The adventure, I mean,” Steven corrects himself.

Layla stands up and nods. “I know,” she whispers. “We want what we never had.”

“Yeah.”

“You smell like him,” Layla comments, causing you to side eye her over your shoulder.

“I mean,” Layla continues, whilst as you strap the last thing you need—“Why wouldn’t you, right?”

“Yeah,” Steven whispers.

They both then fall silent, and as you look back you see Layla leaning in.

She…oh!

She’s doing such a terrible job at separating Marc and Steven.

“Marc’s trying to protect you from Khonshu,” Steven interrupts Layla before they could kiss. “Both of you.”

You turn around quickly and retort, “what?”

Stevens' eyes drift to you and he continues. “That’s why he’s been pushing the both of you away. H-he thinks Khonshu wants you for his Avatar, either one of you, and he won’t let that happen…”

You furrow your eyebrows deeper and scowl.

“It’s all right,” he continues. “I just felt like you both should know that.”

Layla sighs, and you stare at the ground in frustration and disbelief.

So…Harrow was right? Steven wouldn’t lie…at least you don’t think so.

“Sorry,” Steven adds.

“Why are you telling us this now?” Layla asks for the both of you.

You look up and see Steven shake his head before he responds, “I don’t know. I just thought you deserved to know.”

“Well,” you sigh and head towards the opening. “It wasn’t his call to make, was it?”

“I don’t need protection,” Layla interjects for herself. “What I need is honesty.”

“Yeah,” Steven says. “I get that.”

“That’s more of a you thing, isn’t it?”

You hook youself to the rope and adjust it a bit while you catch Steven’s stammering comment. “What? being…honesty?”

Being honesty?

You snicker to yourself and miss Layla's comment as you climb down into the cave.

The moment your feet hit the sandy ground you quickly rip off the hooks, and turn your flashlight on before spinning around to face ancient carvings on the walls.

“Wow,” you murmur and pull your camera out to take pictures, all while you hear a soft thud hit the ground.

“Y/N,” you recognize Layla’s voice. “I’ve told you that you needed to wait.”

You step back and mindlessly answer, “uh-huh,” as you take more pictures.

Layla unhooks herself, and before long you hear her approach the carvings as well. As you put your camera down you hear the sound of Steven screaming before he suddenly hits the ground.

Both Layla and you look back, and you see Steven had landed face first.

“Are you okay?” Layla asks as she approaches him.

You snicker.

“I’m aces. Yeah,” he groans.

You stifle your laugh and steal one picture of Steven on the ground.

He lifts his head as the flash goes off and whispers, “memories, yay.”

You smirk and turn away since Layla was helping him up.

“Here you go.”

“Ahem,” Steven clears his throat. “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

You walk further into the cave and gently brush your fingers along the wall, feeling particles of sand fall off.

“Oh, wow, look at you,” you hear Steven mutter.

“Oh, yeah,” Layla breathes out. “There’s…gorgeous aren't they? They’re just, like…been standing guard for centuries.”

“Right?” Steven says in excitement, whilst you stop to just admire everything on the walls. All of it, every single thing here has been here for so long and still untouched by man. That’s crazy.

“Look, I-I can’t even…so, if they just sprang to life right now and asked me a riddle for passage, I’d be thrilled,” Steven continues. “I’d shit myself but I’d be thrilled.”

You nod along in agreement and lift your camera to continue taking more pictures. “That would be awesome, and I mean,” you add, “it’s totally possible considering all…that’s happened.”

Gods, heroes, crazy ice monuments coming out of the water, aliens, killer robots…etc.

“What’s this?” Steven asks, causing you to turn around to look back at him—“Did any of you do that?” He asks.

You walk over and see the writing on the sand and instantly know that it was Layla who wrote it.

“What?” Layla retorts and looks back to what Steven is pointing out. “Oh. Yeah. It’s for my father. He would’ve loved to be here.”

You sigh quietly and return to your previous spot while Steven comments. “Oh, yeah? Big history buff, is he?”

“Oh, so much worse. Archaeologist on a mission.” Layla then walks up beside you and Steven follows

“And to him it was a dream worth dying for,” Layla continues to tell. “And he did.”

“I'm so sorry,” Steven says softly.

You peek over at them and slightly narrow your gaze before continuing to walk further away so as to avoid their conversation.

And much to your fascination you actually end up turning into some dark eerie hall or maze thing. “Hey!” You exclaim to catch the attention of the pair fallen behind. “Come over here!”

The sound of footsteps echoes louder and louder until you see their flashlights pointing at the walls.

“It’s a maze,” you point out. “I think.”

“It’s a-maze-ing,” Steven chuckles, causing you to slowly look over at him and slightly squint your gaze as you decide whether to laugh with him, or at him.

Maybe both.

“Get it?” He directs at you as he catches your gaze.

You lift your brow and nod slowly as you begin to smile. “Yeah, man, I get it. Funny.”

“No, like, there are six paths,” Layla points out.

Steven nods. “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Steven whispers.

“Right,” you nod. “Six points. Right?”

“What could they be shooting at?” Layla asks, making you snap your head to the side and catching her lifting a bullet.

“Mummies?” You suggest and hope it’s a joke. “Unless they’re shooting at each other.”

Layla looks back, and her eyes snap behind you. When you look, you see Steven write down something on the sand, as you get closer to see you catch that he drew the Eye of Horus.

“This whole structure,” he comments and continues to draw a swirl from the eye. “Is a symbol.”

You scoff softly and can’t help but smirk out of pride.

“That’s the eye of Horus,” Layla says.

“Yeah,” Steven agrees before he points at the drawing with his flashlight. “Look at that.”

As you look up you see the drawing reflect on the ceiling.

“What.” You add in awe. “That’s amazing.”

“Right?”

“It’s the royal symbol, protection in the afterlife,” Steven explains.

“I mean,” Layla chimes in. “Like, the resources needed to build this thing. Her final Avatar was a pharaoh.”

You smile and nod in agreement as you piece it together too.

“Whoa! A bloody pharaoh,” Steven interjects excitedly.

“So what?” You question and share the same excitement. “You guys think it’s a map?”

“Yeah, well,” Steven answers. “Right. So, the eye of Horus is also the eye of the mind, yeah?”

You hum in agreement.

“Representing the six senses,” he continues. “Six points. So you got the eyebrow that denotes thoughts,” he points out. “Pupil, sight, obviously. This point here,” he points to the inner corner of the eye. “Is, uh, hearing. Smell, touch. And this long line ending in a spiral is the tongue.” He pronunciates the last bit.

You scoff and step back, whilst Layla adds, “the Avatar would be Ammit’s voice.”

Steven lingers in silence for a brief second as he just stares at Layla. “That’s right,” he then agrees before you all look to the path that’s beside you.

As you walk down it, the three of you end up in a different room that seems to be like graves.

“Oh, Heka priests,” Layla points out as she lifts her light to point at the paintings on the upper wall. “Judging by their masks and ceremonial stance. They would have been entombed here to protect the pharaoh.”

You look down and look at the corpses before you.

“The heck’s a Heka?” Steven asks.

“Sorcerers of their time,” you explain. “They seem to have been down here for centuries. And these must be some of the unlucky souls who crossed their path. Cool.”

“Right,” Steven mutters. “That’s an impressive send off.”

You hum and turn, seeing a bloody table. Steven then sees it at the same time and begins to gag.

“Oh, my God. Oh, God. Is that fresh blood?” He asks.

You step closer and catch Layla turn to see as well.

“Isn’t that little chunks of meaty bits?”

You draw in a deep breath and nod. “Yes. It is.”

Layla crouches down and breathes out. “Oh.”

You rush over to her side and see nothing good, just more blood.

“Let’s keep moving. Yeah,” Layla suggest.

Steven and you nod in agreement and begin to walk further inside the cave, but nevertheless, there’s actually a blood trail.

“Um, just a minute,” Steven panics. “Just a minute. I’m just, like, saying what I see, and I see lots of bones and blood going that way. So I’m just thinking, like, what if there’s maybe another…” he trails off and begins to look up. “There’s, like, another…there’s an opening up there. You guys see that?”

You stand on the tip of your toes to try and see what he’s pointing at with his light, and actually manage to catch a small glimpse of an exit.

“Yeah,” Layla agrees.

“Should we check it out?” Steven questions.

You nod. “Yes please.”

“All right.”

“All right,” Layla also chimes in agreement—“you go.”

“Me?” Steven points at himself.

Both Layla and you meet each other's gaze before you look back at Steven and nod in agreement. “Yes.” You repeat it. “You kind of do know a lot.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “All right.” He turns back around. “Yeah.” He proceeds to walk over to the wooden structure to begin climbing over…with some struggle of course.

Once he’s up though he points his light down and lets you both know. “All right, yeah, I did it. I’m up.”

“You good?” Layla asks him.

“Yeah.”

“Go, y/n,” Layla urges.

You look back and tilt your head. “No, you first, I’ll—”

“Go, stop arguing,” she cuts you off.

You let your gaze linger on her for a brief second to challenge her own gaze, but since you know this won’t go anywhere, you just roll your eyes and climb up to join Steven.

“So, according to the ancient texts,” he shares as he points at writing painted on the wall. “Ammit should be bound to an ushabti those statue thingies.”

“Right,” you nod along and turn, only catching cloth hanging down and more materials. Albiet these weren’t all bloody.

“How’s it looking?” Layla asks.

“It’s looking amazing,” Steven geeks out. “I mean, this…it looks like a freshly filled canopic jar, and snake skins. And self-regeneration…”

“Yeah…” you pause and go serious as you think about what he just said.

Fresh?

Nothing should be fresh? Or even be here since Harrow and his goons didn't have time to do all this. No, this….this must be something else.

“I think,” you mutter and look for the other path. “We need to go. Steven.”

“Yeah?”

You point out. “The exit.”

“Yeah,” he whispers and snaps around to walk around until you both find light coming from an exit nearby.

“Yeah, yeah. Yeah, we can go this way,” Steven says.

Yet before Layla could even move, a gunshot echoes in the distance, causing you all to go rigid.

More shots then follow to go off, making chills crawl down your spine now.

“Harrow,” Layla says.

You take a step forward and point at the exit below. “What are they shooting at?” You wander out loud.

“I don’t know,” Layla whispers.

You swallow thickly and snap your eyes to Layla. “Well whatever it is just—” you cut yourself off as you hear a clicking sound.

“Hide, hide,” Steven whisper shouts to Layla before he grabs your wirsts and pulls you back with him to try and keep hidden against the wall as the clicking sound continues.

The sound of something dragging follows before you catch the sound of heavy breathing, and grunting.

You try and see what’s below and how Layla is, so you crouch down and pull Steven with you to crawl forward very slowly. When you can see through the gaps of the wood floor, you instantly feel your breath catch as you see some kind of black figure; like a body of bones…a mummy, holding up some sort of blade. And on the table is a body.

The mummy then proceeds to stab the blade in the body and drags the blade up, ending the man’s life before…before beginning to pull out the man’s guts.

It’s gross and makes you want to gag, but you cover your mouth and watch Layla hidden under the table. She begins to slowly crawl away, making sure to be careful with each step.

Alas when she’s hidden behind the table you hear a thud, and the mummy hears it too and clicks before going to the side Layla is.

It doesn’t see her though, she crawls away. But then in the tense silence the wood creaks beside you as Marc moves. This time the mummy groans before he jumps up to clutch onto the wooden just below you.

You can almost touch its fingers, almost feel its black flesh, and don’t make a sound even if you want to scream from fear. Instead you begin to slowly crawl back as you press your lips together.

The mummy then crawls back, and there in between the cracks of the wood you see it, its eye. It sees you and snaps at you, causing you to jump up and step back towards Steven after he gets startled too.

The mummy then proceeds to jump up the structure, making the both of you gasp. It keeps crawling your way, and you grab Stevens wrist to begin pulling him back with you as you step back and keep an eye on it.

It’s hand then hits the floor you’re on and is about to climb on, but then something breaks nearby, startling both Steven and you, and stealing the mummies attention away.

“Run!” Steven exclaims out. “We’ll find you!”

Steven pulls away from your grasp and shoves the table over the structure to make it drop down.

“I squished it,” Steven mutters at first before he exclaims, “I squished it!”

You run over and see a mess, you try to search for the body but then Steven grabs your wrist and begins pulling you back with him towards the exit.

“That should’ve gotten rid of it,” Steven interjects with hope.

You pull your wrist from his grasp and glance back, hoping Layla was okay, “you hope,” you retort and then look around at your surroundings, noticing just sandy plain walls now.

Steven sighs. “I saw it, trust me, I squished it, besides we have to hope that Layla will meet up with us. Otherwise the alternative is very scary.”

You sigh, “yeah. You’re right.”

“Regardless,” Steven adds. “Getting chased by a mummy is very…exciting. I mean I was shitting myself the entire time but it’s definitely something I won’t forget, ever.”

You smile and nod along in agreement. “That’s true. But maybe what’s scarier is getting chased by a small flock of ducks,” you laugh softly. “My dad and I went to the park one time and we were feeding the ducks. He threw a piece of bread a bit too hard and hit the duck on the head, so it, and it’s friends chased us and bit at our ankles. To this day I cannot get close to a duck anymore.” You sigh and realize until you’re finished that you had told him that story with ease and without getting angry.

Steven glances back at you and smiles softly. “That is scary. Because I mean you can’t really kill those ducks, you just have to hope they’ll leave you alone.”

You scoff in amusement and nod. “Yeah. Exactly, they’re evil.”

However, now that he holds your gaze, as you look into his deep brown eyes your anger returns, no matter how hard you try to separate them from one another.

“So,” he continues and looks back ahead without realizing your tension that begins to sprout again. “Is there, like, any ex I should be worried about. More kids I don’t know about who will come and snap at me?”

You swallow thickly and shake your head. “No. No ex, she made Marc pick, give me to adoption the moment I was born, or take care of me as a single dad. He obviously chose to keep me. And,” you breathe out slowly. “No siblings, I am happily an only child. More attention that way.” You smirk softly.

Steven nods. “Good. Good, that’s good because Can you imagine, like, more of Marc juniors, that would be very, very scary.”

You huff out and slowly begin to lose your smile. “You. Are there any more people I should meet in there? Because sometimes I get these really weird calls…no one talks, it’s just silence the entire time.”

Steven glances back at you all perplexed and shakes his head. “No. At least…I don’t think so. But you should really maybe talk to the police about that.”

For some reason there’s a bit of disappointment when he denies your theory. But maybe it was Marc. At least that’s who you always suspected. Maybe it is him?

Or some weirdo stalker.

“You know….” Steven continues to ramble, but this time you aren’t as intrigued, not with that lingering memory.

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off and stop in your tracks.

Steven stops and slowly turns around in confusion. “For what?” He queries.

You avert your gaze and draw in a deep breath as you furrow your eyebrows and bite the inside of your cheek. “I,” you breathe out. “I can’t be where you are. I look at you and all I see is him. All I feel is anger for what he’s done, for ignoring me then and now! I’m angry, and everytime I look at you I just….” You let out a shaky breath and turn away to cover your eyes so you can hide the tears that threatened to fall.

“I just…can’t believe he’d chose to leave…again,” you continue in a quivering voice. “And all for what? For a God that doesn’t have control of his life anymore.”

“It’s more because of a…no, that doesn’t matter now,” Steven interjects nervously.

You sniffle and drop your hand to look over at him with your gaze gleaming with tears.

“I don’t know what to say, really, I am not Marc,” Steven continues and begins to walk towards you. “But…I’ll be here. I know you may not recognize me as your father, but you know….my DNA is yours, so that has to count for something, right?”

You stay quiet and progress his words, the meaning behind what he was trying to say. Yet it’s not the same. Perhaps that’s one way you can separate them easier. Because when Steven is the one in control, there’s just not the same connection, those shared memories aren’t there, he’s like a stranger in your dad's body. If only your anger worked the same way.

“Just take your time,” he continues and stops when he’s a few inches away. “I understand your feelings.”

You lower your gaze and nod softly. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And I am sorry.” You let out a small breath and slowly lift your gaze whilst you purse your lips together. “And if Marc can hear me or not, I hope he knows that running from Layla and me to try and protect us is him being a selfish coward. We can decide our own choices.”

Steven huffs out and nods. “Yeah! That was good.”

You slightly squint your gaze and scoff softly in amusement before you walk past him and continue down your path.

“Come on man,” you urge Steven. “Let's find this thing before more mummies come.”

Steven rushes over to catch up to you and nods. “Right, wouldn't want that. The first time was enough.”

You hum and then sigh. “Too bad I didn’t get a picture, it would’ve been cool if I did.”

“Through here,” Steven points to the gap between rocks. “It seems like a tight fit.”

You shift your body and wait for Steven to pass through first before you follow him to the other side.

“Oh, my days,” you hear Steven mutter. “First one in…”

The moment you make it through, Steven is already walking on ahead since he’s amazed by all that is contained inside.

“Look at this y/n,” Steven continues to say. “Tomb fit for a Pharaoh.”

The further you walk, the more you see, the more you're fascinated by all the paintings that tell a story. There’s so many relics that have been untouched and left in the same spot for centuries upon centuries. There’s gold. There’s even a light already shining inside, and in the middle of it all, surrounded by water was the tomb of a Pharaoh.

“Thutmose II,” Steven points out as he flashes his light on the horse statue before lowering it to the smaller statues on the floor. “Nefertiti. Oh, it’s gotta be one of the big’uns,” he says between heavy pants.

You turn your flashlight off and move past him as he comes to a sudden halt and looks down at his reflection in the water.

“What are you gonna do?” Steven asks, making you look back at him as you hop onto the stone steps left in the water—“try and drown us now?”

You slightly furrow your brows and part your lips to question him, but you remember that it’s how you’ve caught Marc communicating with Steven before, so instead you just look away and hop over to the platform that holds the great tomb.

“Look at this,” you mumble in awe whilst Steven agrees to something—“all these relics. Wow.”

“Macedonian?” Steven questions before he walks past you to get closer faster. “No. What? No way that’s not right.” He continues to say and crouches down in front of the tomb. “That can’t be right. That’s—”

“What?” You probe impatiently and stand behind him. “What is it?”

Steven looks back at you with a grin. “That’s Macedonian. T-the only pharaoh…but, I mean, he insisted on calling himself Egyptian.”

You slowly squint your gaze in confusion, but as Steven looks back and stands up to walk around the object, you catch what he’s piecing together and begin to grin as well. “Alexander the Great. This is him.”

“Yes!” Steven exclaims. “Yes. We might be looking at the long-lost tomb of Alexander the Great.”

You laugh softly and rush over to his side to take a picture of the tomb before you put the camera away and keep admiring the grand tomb.

“Okay now,” Steven breathes out. “We have to open it.”

You snap your eyes over to him and scoff. “Yeah, you go ahead. You know that it’s bad luck to disturb Egyptian tombs.”

“Yes!” He exclaims and balls his hands into fists. “Yes, I do, but…” he trails off and sighs. “We have to so we can get what came here for.”

You step back, causing Steven to look back all panicked. “Why are you stepping back?”

“I just graduated high school, Steven. I am on my way to be an intern in this super big technology company in New York, with my friend. I don’t need any bad luck in my life.” You put your hood back on your head and cover your mouth with the cover. “But you go. I’ll watch from here.”

“Oh, wow, okay, congratulations, that’s, like, super awesome.”

You nod slowly. “Thanks, man,” you say back.

Steven draws in a deep breath and turns around to face the tomb. “Okay,” he sighs. “Here it goes.” He bends down and puts his hands on the tomb for a second before standing back up. “Everything inside me is screaming not to open this thing.”

You lift your head to try and take a better look at Steven as he seems to take a pause. “Well if we don’t, Harrow will get to Ammit first,” you throw out.

Steven nods. “Yes, I know,” he snaps from his short trance. “Your dad basically just said the same thing. You two are so much alike it scares me some—”

“Steven,” you cut him off so he can get on with it.

Once again Steven nods. “All right, all right, all right.” He puts his hands on the tomb again, and exhales first before pushing the lid back.

The moment you see it sticking out from the other end you take just one careful step forward, but not close enough so you can actually see what’s inside, you just get close to Steven.

“Is it there?” You ask.

“Oh, well, if you’re gonna hide it for all eternity, you’d probably put in a place where…the average looter wouldn't think to look.”

You quirk your brow and press. “So? It is there?”

“Uhm,” he hums. “Alexander was the voice of Ammit,” he says, and you just grow more puzzled—“All right, I’m gonna try something.”

All of a sudden you see Steven reach his hand in the tomb, so you peel your eyes back and take one more step forward. “Stop,” you call out. “What are you doing?”

“I’ll do something here,” Steven mumbles his explanation as he keeps reaching in. “Sorry. Oh, God. So sorry. Sorry. Mr. Great.”

Something rustling comes from the tomb, so you stand on the tip of your toes and squint your gaze. As fabric rips you hold your breath in and cross your arms over your chest. Some cracking sounds follow, and Steven continues to speak to the corpse. “All right. Open up. Oh, sorry. Mr. Great. Sorry, I couldn’t be more sorry.”

You see Steven bend down further towards the tomb, and you can't contain your anxiety anymore over what you can’t see happening, so you step behind Steven, duck your head so as not to see the corpse, and tap his shoulder making him yelp and throw his hand back.

“Ah! Wha-what?!” He exclaims and spins around, completely startling you whilst he also almost crashes into you. “Why would you do that?! Why? Why?”

You find your footing before you fall back and throw your hands up. “I’m sorry,” you quickly snap back just as panicked. “I’m sorry! I was going to ask what was going on, I got scared, I’m sorry!”

Steven let’s out a deep relieved breath and shakes his head. “Right, fair, yeah that’s fair, I just thought you were a mummy, it…” His words trail off as you shift your gaze and see the ushabti in his hand.

“Steven, you have it.” You point out.

Without a second to spare Stevens' gaze snaps to the ushabti in his hand, and he gets instantly captivated by it.

“You did it,” you exclaim happily as he gets the item closer to him. “You found it.”

“I—” Steven cuts himself off and suddenly grabs your hand to pull you both down. You’re about to question his actions, but that’s when you hear the sound of approaching footsteps and squeeze your mouth shut instead.

However, since you weren’t hiding at all whatsoever both Steven and you notice Layla finally walking in.

“Layla, look,” Steven says as he stands up with you and throws his hand up that holds the ushabti. “We won.”

You slip your hand from Stevens grasp and walk towards Layla as you’re relieved that she’s okay.

“And the ushabti goes to us,” Steven continues. “I mean I had to go digging down old Alexander the Great's gullet, but I found it.”

As you meet Layla halfway you offer her a soft smile and add, “you’re okay.” Yet as you’re in front of her you notice she doesn’t rip her eyes away from Steven, she doesn’t look relieved or happy. Layla looks angry, furious.

Steven also notices and comments on it before you can. “Are you okay, love?”

“Can he hear me?” Layla directs at Steven, causing you to step aside so she can step past you.

“Alexander?” Steven asks cluelessly. “I don’t think so. God, I hope not.” He chuckles.

“What happened to my father?” Layla asks seriously and steps up the steps to reach Steven. “I’m talking to you.”

Steven glances at you for help, but you can’t offer him any clues to ease her anger, all you can do is step back and give her space and privacy.

“What?” Steven query’s

“I’m talking to you, Marc,” Layla finally exclaims as she hits his chest, seeming to finally force Marc to trade places with Steven.

“Come on. Let’s go, let’s go,” Marc tries to urge Layla in the accent you knew and recognized.

“No,” Layla stops him and pulls him back.

“We need to go right now,” Marc insists and looks back at you. “Y/N, get ready to run.”

You stay in your spot and don’t move, you just look back at Layla and when you see the grief and hurt on her face you begin to regret all the jealousy that had begun to spark, all the negativity you had wished upon the relationship she had with your father.

“Marc, no.”

“Layla, we need to go right now,” Marc cuts her off.

Layla keeps pulling him back, and Marc finally turns to face her.

“What happened to my father?” She asks again, but he keeps trying to avoid the question.

“Listen to me. We need to leave right now. I will explain everything. I swear. But we have to go.”

“Did you kill Abdullah El Faouly?” Layla asks, whilst you grab your earphones to block them out so they can have as much privacy as they can have down here, in such a confined space. But…there’s also a part of you that needs to know if Marc did actually do what Layla is asking from him.

Just for your own peace of mind.

“Of course not,” Marc tells her. “Of course I didn’t.”

That’s all you needed to hear. It might not be your problem, but Layla was still important to you, if Marc had been the one to have killed her father then…there would be another drift. Another crack in your broken relationship because the truth is you would have picked her.

Regardless, it wasn’t Marc, he told her that so to try and give them privacy this time, you just sit down on a step, put your earphones on to turn on your music, and lastly just watch the water that separates the platform the tomb is on, and the rest of the room.

You tap the water with the tip of your boot and watch the ripple that breaks throughout the water, you catch your reflection, mostly all you see is the bags under your eyes from the lack of sleep over these past couple of days.

But there…behind all the dry skin due to all the fucking sand, behind all the exhastuon was a memory. Old. Very old.

It was triggered by the water you had to watch so as to avoid looking over at Layla and Marc talking (even if you actually were fighting the urge to overhear them again). It was a memory of Marc and you, when you were a little kid, when he came back from a trip and took you back to his small apartment he was renting in Chicago, a small apartment you called home when he was there.

Since you didn’t have room for a pool in such a small place, when he didn’t want to take you all the way to the crowded public pool, he filled the tub, put on a bathing suit with you, placed some small pool toys over the water, and put you in. You alone would do laps since he was too big to do so, and he’d time you each time.

Marc would splash you and do his best to play make believe with you, he’d watch you float on your back in the water to make sure you wouldn't suddenly drown.

You remembered that; those old memories you had been so fond of before while you watched the water. It made you…miss him. How he was before the incident, before he had this idea in his head that he needed to cut you off from his life to protect you.

“Y/N…”

You missed your father.

“Y/N!” Someone exclaims before you’re yanked off the step and put to your feet before you get pulled away from the room, causing you to pull your earphones out of your ears and look around.

“What's going on?” You ask as you see that it’s Layla who had grabbed you, and that Marc was staying back. “Why—can you tell me what’s going on?”

“Someone’s coming,” Layla deadpans as she turns to hide you both behind a large pillar.

“And what about…Marc?” You ask and press your back to the pillar to keep hidden from the threat.

Layla pushes herself an inch forward to listen better. “He’s going to—” she stops as the sound of Harrow’s voice travels out from the room.

“Just you? The rest is silence. I remember the first morning I woke up knowing that Khonshu was gone,” he says, causing you to shift closer to her and grab her arm to be as close as you possibly could without revealing yourself—“the quiet was librarting. You’re a free man. And, of course with that freedom comes choice.”

You squint and let out a small breath.

“And right now, you have a very important decision to make,” Harrow continues, but then ends up bringing silence.

Maybe he was just speaking quieter though, so you shift your head to try and look over, but Layla's body covers your view. Alas, that’s when you hear a yell before suddenly the sound of a gunshot goes off, making you go rigid.

A second gunshot then fires and then all you hear is a splash of water.

“I can’t save anyone who won’t save themselves,” Harrow says, confirming that it wasn’t him who had been shot.

“Layla,” you whisper, “who was it?” You glance over at her and notice that she has her mouth covered, and tears forming in her eyes, hinting at the worst. Something you can’t accept. A possibility you shove to dark depths of your brain in hopes that would change who came to mind.

As footsteps echo in the water, and Marc’s voice continues not to be heard, you swallow thickly and grab your bracelet to get ready and charge out there.

“I’m sorry it had be this way,” Harrow continues to say. “Marc Spector….”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes go wide, whilst your breathing begins to turn shallow. Yet you still don’t want to accept what was seeming to turn out true.

“….Steven Grant….”

Footsteps approach closer, and from the corner of your eye you see someone approaching. Layla sees them too but waits

“….Whoever else might be in there. Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality.”

When the person gets too close, Layla steps past you to grab them and then yank them towards her to knock them out, getting out only one grunt, and no attention from anyone else. After that she lets the person go and creeps back to the edge of the pillar to look out.

“Who wants to heal the world?” You hear Harrow ask before the ground begins to rumble and a purple hue begins to shine out.

Your curiosity gets the best of you this time, so you push yourself away from the pillar and step forward to stand beside Layla. And that’s when you see him, rather than spotting what Harrow was doing, you see Marc floating on his back in the water. He’s all you can focus on; his body floating lifelessly, the blood that stains the water.

You try to move, you think of running to him, but physically you can’t move a single muscle, you’re paralyzed where you stand, you can’t even move your eyes away. Actually, every other sense beside your sight felt like it stopped working, you couldn’t progress a sound, it was deafening. You couldn’t feel the gentle breeze brush against your skin as Layla runs out of hiding to reach Marc.

Actually, you didn’t even notice when Harrow and his people had left. All you could see was…Marc. He wouldn't move, not even When Layla kept calling out his name. His chest wouldn’t rise…he wasn’t opening his eyes. He was just floating…even as Layla pressed her head against his chest and moved to press a kiss on his forehead.

Marc wouldn’t move. And you still couldn’t either, not even when Layla sat up and finally looked over at you.

“Y/N,” she mutters, making you shift your gaze over to her, and catching the tears in her eyes and the scarab in her hand. “Y/N,” she whispers this time.

You blink and look back at Marc. “He isn’t moving,” You murmur and stay where you are. “Why isn’t he moving?”

Layla sniffles and swallows thickly. “Y/N…your dad…he’s gone. We have to go. We need to go after Harrow and stop him. We can’t let your fathers….”

You tune her words out and finally begin to slowly approach her even if you still didn’t progress the cruel truth.

Once you reach him, Layla stands up and steps aside to let you get on your knees beside him. However, once you’re close, once you carefully feel for a pulse on his neck it, hits you, the truth finally breaks past your denial, and you realize there in that moment that he’s gone.

Your father was gone.

He’s gone and you couldn’t—the last thing you told him was dismissive, a demand for Steven. You couldn’t talk, you were angry at him the entire time, you were a bitch to him even when he’d try to talk in a nice way—even if had been ignoring the problems you had.

You’ll never be able to talk to him. He’s gone.

“Pa…” you call out in a quivering voice and cup his cheek. “Pa,” you call again and can’t help the sob that breaks past your lips. “I’m sorry….I’m sorry. Please…” you pause and let out a shaky breath before pressing your forehead against his and crying quietly. “I love you. I do.”

A sharp aching pain hits your heart, and suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe.

“Y/N,” Layla breaks her silence. “Honey, we need to go.” She reaches for your arm, but you yank it away and proceed to cradle your fathers head.

“No, I’m staying with him. I’m staying,” you murmur and shift your face down to rub the tip of your nose agaisnt his, just like how he’d do it to you when you were a child.

“Y/N, we can’t stay. We need to stop Harrow.”

You shake your head and pull your head back before you moving your hands down to cradle his body now. “No, I can’t leave him. We need to take him with us.”

Layla sighs and steps over to be in front of you. “We can’t carry him out,” she says, but you choose to ignore her.

“No, I can’t leave him,” you insist. “I can’t….we can’t leave him. I can’t leave him.” You stand up and try to drag him out, but he barely moves an inch; he’s too heavy and you’re too weak. “Help me. I need to get him out.”

Layla wipes her tears off her cheeks and grabs your face to pull it up so you can face her.

“Y/N, baby, we can't carry him out, he needs to stay back.”

You shake your head. “Fine, I'll do it myself. Just go. Leave the keys of the car, I'll catch up.”

Layla lets out a deep breath and pulls your face back. “No. Listen to me, we need to go now! We’ll come back for him. Just leave him behind. He would’ve wanted us to go after Harrow.”

She’s right….

She’s right….but it doesn’t make it any easier.

You drop your head and slowly crouch back down to place him back in the water. “Okay,” you whisper. “Okay.” You lift your hands to hold your dad's cheeks and lean in to press a kiss on the tip of his nose one last time, before you pull back to pull out a gold moon necklace from your pocket. You then unclasp it and hook it around Marc’s neck before getting up and following Layla out of the cave.

The moment you’re out, you both manage to sneak in the back of one of Harrow's cars and ride in the back with some of his people.

——

*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

The same number is calling again. Damn—

“Hello?”

No answer. There’s not even a beep. Again. There’s just silence.

And yet, you still answer every single time in hopes it’s actually someone who you haven’t talked to in a long time.

“Look…” you sigh. “I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling this number. Thank you.” You pull your phone away from your ear and hesitate to end it. Instead you try to listen in hopes you’d catch at least the sound of breathing, but there’s nothing on the other end. So you end it.

“Who was it?” Your friend asks.

You shake your head and slip your phone back in your pocket. “Unknown number,” you let them know.

He scoffs. “Again? Y/N, I keep telling you to tell the police, that is not normal.”

You sigh. “I know!” You exclaim. “I know, I will.”

Your friend chuckles. “It’s always the same thing with you. If you get kidnapped….”

The sound of your friends' words trail off as you feel your phone vibrate.

When you pull it out however, you see that it’s once again the same unknown number, this time it’s a message albeit. In Spanish.

Unknown

“<Happy Birthday, sweetheart.>”

Could it…was it your father?

You had to know.

Yet when you have your fingers above the keyboard you hesitate and just look at the letters.

It’s been months.

Fuck.

“I wouldn’t do that,” your friend butts in and leans his head over towards you to cover your screen.

You roll your eyes. “Marvin,” you hiss and push him back.

Marvin laughs and nudges you back. “It’s probably just a scammer, that’s how they get you! Listen to me!”

You:

Dad? Is this you?

You put your phone away and from the corner of your eyes catch a glimpse of Marvin staring at you as he drank your coffee.

You sigh. “What?” You retort in annoyance.

Marvin begins to smirk. “We should send a picture to them.” He shares.

You shoot him a pointed glare and snap back. “You just told me that they could be a scammer and to stop.”

Marvin points at himself and furrows his brows as he pretends to act clueless. “Me?”

You nod and point. “You.”

Marvin clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Get out of here. Anyway, once they see me next to you, they’ll get intimidated by me and leave you alone.”

You begin to smile out of amusement and probe. “Why would they care?”

Marvin begins to smirk. “Oh, you know,” he says, “he’s gonna think I’m your boyfriend and freak out.”

You let your gaze linger on his dark eyes for a moment before you drop your head and laugh softly. “Well, if that’s the case then,” you sigh.

“And if it’s your dad,” Marvin adds. “Then maybe he’ll get so bothered and overprotective that he’ll actually text you back.”

You stop in your tracks, and Marvin doesn’t hesitate to stop along with you to turn and face you with a cheeky smirk on his face.

You narrow your gaze and begin to scowl at his idea of a joke, but Marvin then points at you.

“Dont, you can't get mad,” he remarks. “Because getting mad at said joke means you’re accepting your obvious daddy issues. Which, you, say you don’t have, so….see my dilemma?”

One thing you did not have was that. You refuse to accept it.

“Whatever,” you dismiss him as you roll your eyes and push past him. Marvin snickers and turns swiftly before hopping to catch up to you.

“Did they answer or not?” He asks.

You pull your phone out to check in case you didn’t feel the notification, but as expected there’s nothing but dead silence.

——

Sand. And more miles of damn sand. It’s beginning to get annoying.

And there’s still no damn service. What’s even worse your stupid is dead. No more music.

Marvin was right, always pack backup for the backup.

What would your ever so beloved friend say now as you can’t hold back your tears over your fathers death?

Probably nothing but comforting things….you’re just overthinking it too much, just so you can hopefully stop thinking back to Marc's body, the fact that you left him there.

Or the fact that you couldn’t even talk to him. Hug him again. You’d never get to….

You exhale shakily and wipe the tears off your face as you feel the car roll to a stop. Once you look up you see you’ve come to a stop at a checkpoint. The police were approaching the cars and saying something in Arabic.

The cars leading the way open their doors and cause the police to yell and point their guns at everyone. All the passengers in the other cars open their car doors too and begin to climb out, only causing more of a calamity that Harrow stops.

When one police officer begins to approach the car Layla and you’re hiding in, you glance over in search of an answer. Yet when she meets your gaze she grabs your knee, telling you to wait.

“Show me your papers,” you catch a policeman ordering Harrow.

“I don’t need to show you my papers,” Harrow counters. “You need to show us your soul.” He then slams his cane on the ground and causes the purple hue to explode out and hit every policeman.

They begin to scream in pain, and jerk their bodies up as the purple hue seems to tear their souls from their bodies. You try hard to not react, but even if you covered your face with your mask and hood you still couldn’t hide the horror from spreading to your eyes as you could do nothing but watch, until finally all of them but one dropped to the ground.

“Move the bodies out of the way,” a woman in a green shirt orders everyone, making Layla and you hop off the car so you wouldn’t look suspicious—“Let’s go, clear a path!”

Once everyone who had been in the car with you walks away, Layla nudges your arm and points to Harrow leaning back on a truck as he watches his people do all the dirty work.

“You go from the back,” Layla whispers to you as you both keep your eyes locked on the man that killed Marc. “I go from the front.” Layla breaks away from your side, and you hesitate where you stand to look at everyone around.

They all have guns. And there’s too many for just the two of you. Yet, when you look back at Layla to try and stop her, she already has a knife out and is sneaking ahead.

“Layla,” you call just above a whisper and speed walk over to her to reach her side. “Layla—”

“Don’t do it,” a random voice coming from the ground cuts you off and startles you.

When you look down all you see is the dead body of a policeman. “Layla, y/n, wait. I am the Goddess Taweret,” the same body speaks in a femine voice, making you stop to look at them in shock, horror, and awe.

Layla keeps moving so you break from your stupor and run up to catch up to her. This time you don’t say anything, you glance down at the dead bodies out of curiosity and slight anxiety since you don’t want to be startled again.

Once Layla and you come to stop behind a car, the body of a man speaks again in the same femine voice. “Layla, y/n, it’s Marc who’s telling you to stop.”

Marc?

You walk over to the body and narrow your gaze.

“What the hell is this?” Layla retorts.

The body groans and you crouch down to grab them by the collar. “Hey,” you call out in a panicked and hopeful whisper. “Talk to me. This is not some damn joke. My dad is dead.”

“And I’m talking to you through dead people right now. So what?” They counter. “Listen, Harrow is too powerful for the two of you to stop him alone. If Marc..if he can return to life…”

Return—

Is this supposed to be funny?

“Don’t,” you cut off the Goddess in a trembling voice that was laced with annoyance. “This is not funny. What do you mean, return to life?”

Taweret chuckles softly. “You're every bit of your fathers daughter alright.”

You blink repeatedly in disbelief and let the body go.

“What do you mean, return to life?” Layla repeats.

Taweret groans again and lays back on the ground for a few seconds before lifting up again and continuing. “He is going to need Khonsu. Break his ushabti…”

Without questioning her you slowly nod in acceptance and eagerness a bit too quickly.

“…it’s in the Chamber of the Gods. And you, Layla can be my Avatar. Marc says wonderful things about you.”

“No, no, no,” Layla interjects. “I’ll fight him on my own.”

You look back at Layla and get ready to try and argue, but the lady once again speaks up to the crowd. “It’s time to go!”

Layla grabs your arm and pulls you up. “Come on,” she urges, and then leads you back to the truck without another word to the Goddess that had suddenly appeared.

Once the cars were on the move again you lean towards her and grab her knee to pull her eyes towards you. “Layla, maybe we should listen to her. I mean we can’t fight against Ammit alone. We need her.”

Layla shakes her head and leans her face closer so her voice wouldn’t carry out. “No, y/n, we don’t need her, or anyone else to help us. You know how much Marc suffered with Khonshu, I won’t let you get trapped in the same problem. Nor will I be in the same problem.”

You hum and sit back. “Okay,” you whisper and think back to what Taweret said about your dad returning to life.

“What about my dad? What about Marc? She said he could come back with Khonshu, will we not accept his help?” You press.

Layla slightly narrows her gaze on you and scoffs, “of course I want to help Marc, but we will not enslave ourselves y/n. We will find a way to fight. We always do.” She sits back and looks away, ending the conversation with nothing else to add on the matter.

Now, you also stay quiet and watch the sea of sand pass by, you watch the sky and don’t cry this time. No, how could you? You’re foolishly clinging onto hope that your father would return to you. What you should’ve done in truth is question her, doubt her, but you didn’t because you just want him back.

That’s why you were so foolishly hopeful. Even if you might end up in heartbreak.

It’s why when it came to Harrow opening the Chamber of the Gods you weren’t scared.

“You won’t believe what the Gods have hidden from mankind,” Harrow mutters as you all charge in the chamber—“You’re judges, not warriors.” He continues to say as you spot five people in the platform below ready for Harrow.

They all then begin to fight, so Layla and you use their distraction as an excuse to break away in search of Khonshu’s ushabti. Albeit, when you reach the room there's dozens of them on the wall. You have to step back and stand on your tiptoes to look at the ushabti placed above your heads. You then scan the wall down from there until finally you spot it just across from you.

“Here,” you whisper and reach for the ushabti.

Layla looks over and takes it from your hand. “This is it,” she says. “Good job.”

Instead of breaking it right where you stand, Layla grabs your wrist and pulls you with her as she runs away towards a darker room further from the chamber that began to rumble.

“Here,” Layla says and brings you to a stop, letting you pull your hood and mask off to watch as she puts the ushabti down before stomping it.

The moment every fragment is broken smoke begins to come out and begins to form several feet high into the God you were familiar with.

Once fully formed you gasp and look up at him with fascination. Up to this point all you’ve seen have been old paintings, you’ve just heard stories from your father, but now he’s here. Now you see Khonshu’s intimidating bird skull of a face, you see for yourself how terrifying yet fascinating he looks.

And even still, just a glimpse of him brought you raging anger for what he’s done to your father.

“I do not sense Marc Spector in this world,” Khonsu speaks in a loud voice. “He died fighting, no doubt.” “Fighting your war,” Layla spats.

“And it’s far from over,” he argues. “If Marc is truly gone, I am in need of an Avatar. Would you, Y/N Spector, protect the travelers of the night…”

What?

But Layla is right there? Why wouldn’t he want her instead. Why…you?

“Are you joking?” Layla cuts him off before you can even say a thing on the regard. “You turned Marc’s life into a waking nightmare. Now you want to do the same to his daughter? Why would she ever sign up for that?”

You swallow thickly and avert your gaze.

“Because neither of you will win against Harrow and Ammit alone,” Khonshu tries to explain.

“We’ll take our chances,” Layla retorts angirly.

He’s right though.

“Marc was in crisis over you,” Khonshu directs at Layla. “His lack of focus got him killed. You need a plan, little bug. What I offer her—”

“I don’t care what you can offer,” Layla interrupts him spitefully. “Marc didn’t trust you. I don’t trust you. We’ll work together without her enslaving herself.”

Khonshu leans forward, you can feel his presence, feel his stare even if he has no eyes in his eye sockets.

“Yet it is not your choice to make,” he rebuttals. “Y/N Spector, will you be what your father was once to me? Will you protect the travelers of the night?”

Without daring to look back at Layla, you slowly lift your eyes to look at his face. “My father,” you mutter in a quivering voice. “Can you help him? Bring him back to life?”

“Y/N,” Layla hisses.

You keep your eyes on Khonshu and lift your head in confidence. “If you swear to help him I will accept your conditions.”

“Y/N!”

“Please,” you demand.

Khonshu sighs and slightly tilts his head. “Fine,” he accepts. “I will help you. If you help me.”

You slowly begin to smirk, and all the fear and anxiety you had felt in that moment was lost, all that riddled your body was a burning hope and determination.

“I accept.” You finally reveal.

A/N: Just so you all know I am planning to extend this story past the shows events, so I will post a few more chapters :)

Tagged: @broadwaytraaaaash @jasminemohmed

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