⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

Layla wasn't sure where she got the strength to hold back the chilling scream threatening to leave her lips after the scene in front of her took place. Her anger was nearly blinding her, but she knew she had to be smart in order to not share the same fate as them.

Harrow and his men didn't waste a single moment after the bodies of Marc Spector and (Y/N) Mahfouz collapsed in the ground. Harrow strutted with his cane in one hand over to where his followers had dragged their bodies to like it was just another casual day at work, watching how they searched through their pockets for the ushabti.

When one pulled their hands away holding the object in his hands, the others stared at it like it was the most precious diamond in the planet. Harrow extended his hand forward for it, and cradled it with his hands.

"I'm sorry it had to be this way, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, whoever else might be in there, and (Y/N) Mahfouz," Harrow whispered. "Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality."

Layla hid behind one of the pillars and had to hold her breath after she heard the soft footsteps of one of Harrow's men searching in the area. Without thinking too much of it, she elbowed the man hard enough once he got into her sight and only saw how Harrow just turned his head to the side at the sound of the grunt before turning back.

Layla made sure to drop the unconscious body of the man as quiet as she could, moving through the shadows of the room in order to not get caught. Her glare was as cold as ice, staring at how Harrow walked to stand in front of his people and lift Ammit's ushabti in his hand.

"Who wants to heal the world?" Harrow asked out loud to his kneeling followers, his other hand gripping the cane.

Suddenly, a purple light emitted from the eyes of the crocodile head of the cane and shifted into some sort of axe. Harrow, satisfied and with no regrets, marched towards the exit of the room with the people trailing behind him.

Layla made sure everyone was already far gone before stepping away from her hiding spot, carefully walking towards the bodies of her friends on the floor.

"(Y/N), Marc," she tried to call out, wishing, grasping for any sort of hope that they might still be alive.

When she realized there was no point, Layla could not hide her tears anymore but was forced to muffle her sob in case they ever returned. She shut her eyes tightly because what she was seeing was too much for her to take, it was the last thing she wanted, and now it came true.

Layla sniffled at the sight of the bullet holes in (Y/N)'s chest, as well as how her lips were parted with the ghost of her final breath. Layla didn't think twice before lowering down and hugging her cold, lifeless body one last time, her tears staining the linen of your bloodied shirt.

Layla stared back at Marc and couldn't help but let out a cry for him too, even though they always bickered back and forth ever since they had met, they had become close friends and now this was the end. It hadn't took her a long time to realize that they both shared a same interest, protecting (Y/N) with all they had. Only it came true to him.

She pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s forehead before her eyes noticed what was placed in Marc's chest. The golden scarab to Ammit's ushabti.

Layla's gears clicked inside her head and she grabbed it and held it in her hand, pressing onto it while the scarab's wings opened and hovered right above her palm, pointing towards one direction. Harrow.

She was going to get revenge on (Y/N) and Marc, even if it was the last thing she ever did.

⊱ ────── {⋆❉⋆} ────── ⊰

Three different trucks got into the quiet road of the desert, driving through the sand into the road quite quickly before they got stopped by a group of Egyptian patrols. They were parked on each sides of the road and had barrels on the tracks to stop people from driving away too easily.

"What are you doing on this road?" the first one asked in Arabic, banging on the door of the first truck harshly.

Harrow peacefully exited the car and this caused the entire patrol to panic and point their guns towards him and the others from the trucks, who were following his actions.

"It's all right," Harrow called over all the yelling. "It's all right. It's all right. It's all right."

Harrow closed the door of the car and faced one of the police officers pointing his gun at him. "Show me your papers," he ordered in English.

"I don't need to show you my papers," Harrow said calmly, ignoring the orders from behind. "You need to show us your soul."

Harrow stomped his cane hard on the ground and this made a purple light shine through the earth and reach deep into the souls of the other officers, who screamed in pain as purple light came out of their chests and the light died away with their bodies dropping to the ground.

The man in front of Harrow seemed to be the only one standing, and he saw how the light died out from his chest as he removed his sunglasses.

Harrow placed his hand on his shoulder. "This is the face of a good man," he grabbed the radio from his bullet proof vest and ripped it away as it muttered indistinctly in Arabic. "You don't need this anymore."

One of Harrow's followers turned back to the others. "Move the bodies out of the way."

Everyone else began to jump out of the cars and muttering indistinctly. "Let's go! Clear a path."

Layla, who had followed them the entire time from the last truck in a disguise, jumped out of the truck as well but stayed behind. She removed the mask that covered her face and unsheathed her knife as she spotted Harris by himself.

She was slowly walking amongst the dead bodies of the police officers when an unfamiliar voice called out to her. "Don't do it."

She looked back at the body of an officer and saw him lift his head and follow her with his gaze. "Layla, wait. I'm the Goddess Taweret."

Layla decided to ignore this and hid behind one of the trucks, Harrow standing not that far away from her anymore.

"Layla," another body rose up with a feminine voice, and this time she looked back. "It's Marc telling you to stop."

"What the hell is this?" Layla muttered in confusion.

The body groaned before dropping back to the floor with a thud, and Layla still couldn't believe what she had just witnessed.

"He's dead. And so is (Y/N)," Layla said.

Taweret returned, and the officer moved his hands dramatically as she spoke through him. "And I'm talking to you through dead people right now. So what?"

"Listen, Harrow is too powerful for you to stop him alone. If Marc. . .if he and (Y/N) can return to life. . ."

"What do you mean, 'return to life'?"

The body groaned and a minute of silence passed by, Layla watched from the corner of her eye how Harrow was still leaning on the side of the car with a sense of suspicion before Taweret spoke again.

"Marc is going to need Khonshu. Break his ushabti," Taweret ordered. "It's in the Chamber of the Gods. And you can be my Avatar."

Layla frowned. "And what about (Y/N), huh? How will she 'return to life', whatever that means?"

Taweret paused for a second, as if she was trying to think what to say next carefully. "We'll figure something out."

Layla wasn't sure that was the complete answer but who was she to judge what a god had to say.

"Marc tries to say wonderful things about you, and it looks like you're (Y/N)'s favorite," Taweret rose from the body again.

Layla desperately shook her head, hiding her knife. "No, no, no. I'll fight him on my own."

"It's time to go!" one of Harrow's followers announced, and everyone rushed towards their respective trucks all over again.

Layla placed her mask on and jumped in the back of the truck again, not sure to do what Taweret had said or not.