⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

"Are we really going after him?"

Layla had her bike helmet in between her arms, leaning her weight on her right leg as she stared up at (Y/N) through her long lashes. A frown was written on her face due to the confusion of events from earlier, which neither of them had discussed since then because it was too much to handle at the moment.

"We have to," (Y/N) crossed her arms and gave her a firm look, which meant she wasn't going to back down from her decision.

Layla sighed. "All right. But I'm only doing this for you," she pointed an accusing finger at her friend standing in front of her and placed her helmet on.

"That's what you always say," (Y/N) placed her own helmet on her head and climbed on her bike, ready to try to find him again.

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

"See, this neighborhood used to have the highest crime rate in all the city," Arthur Harrow spoke up in his usual slow and soft tone as he guided Steven through a soft lighten street.

The two officers that had come by his flat during the evening had dragged him all the way to a car, where they drove off to the neighborhood he was now at. Steven was uncomfortably shifting on his feet while he was being dragged away by the man that had been haunting him for the last few days.

"There was so much suffering, so much pain. . ." Harrow continued before turning at the group of people on the side. "Good evening. Good evening, everyone. It was truly heartbreaking."

Steven looked behind his shoulder at the people he just walked by as Harrow kept on talking. "Now people don't lock their doors at night. They feel safe."

Harrow spotted a man a few feet away and made his way to him. "Oh, Chase, are those the tomatoes?" Chase stepped forward to show the box filled with tomatoes and Harrow stared down at them before offering the man a smile. "You have a green thumb. Beautiful. Thank you."

"But you don't want to tell anyone, no. People don't want to hear good news. They'd rather cling to their fear, cling to their pain."

A goat bleated not that far away from them and Steven pointed at him with a finger. "Goat."

"What? Yes," Harrow nodded before speaking in Mandarin in a way of greeting, changing his cane to the side so he could grab the soccer ball that came to his way by a young girl.

The girl responded in Mandarin too with a smile and Harrow gave her a reply with one of his own, letting the girl join her friends again in the soccer game while Harrow caught up with Steven again.

"You all speak Chinese?" Steven asked.

"Ah, Mandarin," Harrow corrected. "We all aspire to learn three languages. So, we teach each other. We share our knowledge."

Harrow kept walking in front of Steven to guide him to the inside of an spacious warehouse, and Steven was allowed to let out a gasp at the sight in front of him. Groups of people were gathered together around different parts of the warehouse, some watching pictures by a projector while others were busying themselves with growing plants or something else, everyone minding their own business.

"You hungry?" Harrow asked Steven. "The food's free. You're a vegan, right?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah, so am I," Harrow nodded before looking behind his shoulder. "You might wanna try the lentil soup. I made it this morning. It's Victor's recipe." He gestured to a man sitting quietly on the balcony of the second floor and called out for him. "Gracias, Víctor."

"He's from Yucatán. He's. . .No, he's very funny," Harrow smiled and handed Steven a tray, to which the latter took in his hands. "I know being on the right side of things is important to you. Khonshu always tries to ensnare those with a strong moral conscience."

"You have no conscience," Khonshu's voice boomed inside Steven's head and he decided to ignore it. After that, a gasp left Steven's lips when a strong wind knocked down a rack of trays off into the ground.

"You don't have to listen to him," Harrow whispered to him and went off to sit in a table with Steven following behind. "He often throws temper-tantrums, like a two-year-old. None of the gods respect him. Perhaps that's why he's banished."

"I only punish those who have already done harm. I am real justice!"

Steven turned around to see Khonshu's figure standing on his full height on the second floor of the warehouse, and all he could do was he stare at him in silence.

Harrow seemed to notice this and proceeded to continue. "What's he saying now? 'I am real justice'?"

"Can you hear him?" Steven questioned.

"Not anymore. I was his former avatar," Harrow confessed before diving into his soup. "Before you. I was the fist of vengeance."

"I'm not the fist of anything," Steven told him while he used his spoon to bring the soup to his mouth. "That's the little American man living inside of me."

"And that's, uh, that's Marc?"

Steven didn't reply to that and brought the spoon to his lips, swallowing the food down before speaking up again. "Soup's. . .Yeah, it's very good. It's ace. Yeah, it's lovely."

"Khonshu punishes those who have already walked an evil path. His retribution comes too late. By the time his fist of vengeance arrives, people have already suffered," Harrow kept his firm gaze on Steven and he couldn't help but avoid it by staring down at the soup. "Ammit knows this too well. She tears evil up from the root, casting her judgement before any evil's done. That's why we must resurrect her."

Steven scrunched his nose. "Right. But. . .Isn't that a bit dodgy? Like, trusting the judgement of a weird crocodile lady?"

"You don't need to doubt her judgement," Harrow gave him a smile. "Ammit will light the path to good by eradicating the choice of evil, which brings us to the scarab."

Steven hummed in response and kept digging into the soup while he tried not to think about the conversation back at his flat with Layla and (Y/N). His thoughts were slightly interrupted when he heard a chair behind him screech, like someone was getting up from their seat. When he looked up at Victor in the balcony, Steven realized he was standing up too and felt people's eyes on him from the back.

"The scarab functions as a king of compass, leading us to Ammit's tomb," Harrow explained. "She's out there, eating, longing to be freed."

Steven spotted different people standing up from their places and surrounding the table he was sitting at with Harrow, and all he did was give an awkward wave with a quiet 'Hi' as Harrow kept talking from across him.

"While the cruel masses deserve to face her judgement. And in the wake of their screams, evil eradicated," Harrow said. "Steven, to exist at that moment? Heaven on Earth. So, the scarab."

"Oh, I don't have it," Steven told him without wasting time, and it wasn't a full lie.

"No?"

"Honestly, I don't have it."

"Well, maybe you know someone who does?" Harrow questioned. "Maybe Marc?"

"Don't you do it," Marc threatened, and Steven flickered his gaze to the bowl of bread in the table to find Marc's reflection staring at him. "Don't say their names. Do not give (Y/N) or Layla up. Just give me the body."

"No, I don't," Steven decided to speak then, avoiding making eye contact with Harrow.

"May I speak with Marc?"

"Um, uh — "

"Marc, what has Khonshu promised you? That this is your last mission? Then you'll be free?" Harrow fired different questions. "Trust me when I tell you Khonshu is a liar. There's always one last thing."

Steven's gaze fell on the brown again and this time he couldn't quite catch the expression on Marc's face, but the silence he was giving was more than enough. Steven wanted to be freed of this conversation more than anything, and he tried to change the topic as best as he could.

"Sorry, if Ammit judges people pre-evil, like, before the fact, then, isn't she judging an innocent person?" he asked. "I mean, a thought can't be evil, can it? I think about killing my boss all the time but I wouldn't actually do it."

"Steven — "

"What about a child? Would she kill a child for something they might do in 30 years?"

"I'm glad you mentioned that," Harrow said. "Sometimes, the cure is a little taste of the disease. The difference between medicine and poison sometimes is only dosage. Consider a diseased limb. Amputation, horrific and grotesque, is necessary for the larger health."

"But the child is not a diseased limb," Steven defended and turned back to look at everyone standing all around him and Harrow. "Sorry, is that. . .Is that what — You're all into that, like killing children and that? Maybe that's just me, but that's — I kind of draw a line there at child murder."

Harrow stayed silent for a minute and took in Steven's words. He blinked and inhaled a sharp breath. "Do you know what this is?" He gestured to the cane leaning on his side of the table, which had two crocodile heads on the head of the cane.

"Yep. It's a cane, yeah."

"This is, Ammit's gift to her first Avatar," Harrow explained and held the cane delicately in his hands as the eyes in crocodile heads' glowed in a purple color.

"All right."

"It contains in it a tiny sliver of her power."

Steven stood up from the table and slowly began to back away along with the people all around him. Harrow kept a firm grip on the cane and stood right in his spot. "I don't wanna use it."

"I don't."

"Then don't," Steven shrugged. "I can't help you."

"Yes, you can. I need to know, where is the scarab?" Harrow questioned once again, this time less softer and more demanding than before. He placed the cane onto the ground and leaned on it as usual. "Where is the scarab? Where's the scarab?"

Steven gulped down his nerves. "No."

"Where's the scarab?"

"I have it!"

Everyone's attention moved towards one of the entrances of the warehouse, and Steven couldn't believe his eyes when he realized who they were. (Y/N) held the scarab in her hand, all while Layla stood by her side with a scowl written on her face. The two friends walked on their own rhythm and took a step forward to Harrow, who seemed relieved at the sight of the scarab.

"You couldn't possibly understand the value of what you're holding," Harrow said. "Let me have that, I'll keep it safe."

"There is no deal in this, Marc. Fix this. Fix this!" Khonshu spoke again in Steven's head, and he could even feel his presence right behind him.

(Y/N) stood in front of Steven, her right fist closed by holding the scarab in her hand while Layla got beside Steven, lowering her voice enough for only him to hear. "Summon the suit."

"Sorry, what?" Steven questioned.

"Summon the suit."

"'Summon the soup'? What are you saying?"

(Y/N) heard the commotion and took a step back to get to their level and whisper down her words. "The suit. Summon it."

"The suit?"

(Y/N) placed the scarab in his calloused hands. "And keep this safe."

Harrow turned to his followers. "So be it."

One man of Harrow's followers attempted to grab Layla's arm, but she was quick enough to pull herself back from the man's grip and kick him in the stomach to buy (Y/N) and Steven some time as they rushed through the stairs of the warehouse. Steven hid the scarab in the pocket of his jacket and followed after (Y/N) and heard Layla catch up right behind him.

A man came into their path again and Steven was already reaching out to grab (Y/N) and tug her back, but surprisingly for him, she stepped up and grabbed the man's fist that was aiming for her face and twisted it.

(Y/N) didn't give the man much time to catch his breath since she used her leg to make him loose his footing and throw him back to the first floor of the warehouse, all while Layla was engaged in a fight with another one of Harrow's followers.

(Y/N) turned just in time to see how Harrow placed the end of his cane to the ground and a purple glow came out, starting to make the ground shake as he spoke in Coptic.

Layla aimed one final punch to the man she was fighting and Steven felt his feet glued to the ground until (Y/N) grabbed his hand and made him run along after her and Layla.

"That was awesome," he breathed out.

I hated the way the way this chapter ended up after all. I feel like a lot of this book is going to be through Marc/Steven's eyes so I hope that doesn't bother you that much.

-see you soon, bex