Aslyum
Silence.
No sunlight.
Just white walls.
Zahra Okasha had been decorated in black and gold for as long as she could remember, despite the different ways. She had been an explorer with gold compares and black telescopes, she had been an avatar with gold and black armour and she had been a wife, with a gold wedding ring with a black gem.
White walls did not work with the woman at all.
"Zahra, we can't let you out of this room until you begin to talk to us," came a voice.
Zahra looked up with empty eyes, muttering, "You killed me." over and over again. The man, who resembled Harrow, signed.
"Don't you want to socialise with the others, Zahra?"
"No."
Zahra turned in her bed, curling up into a small ball as she tried to process what was happening here. This place didn't make sense to her, she remembered dying, pain riddled across her chest.
"The trauma will not last forever, Zahra," Harrow continued, kneeling on one knee by her bed. "I know you feel that the physical pain of your injuries is still there but they are not. No one can hurt you now. You are safe but you need to start acting like it."
"You killed me."
"You are trying to find comfort instead of acknowledging the truth," Harrow stood back up, "You need to remember how you got in your situation before you can ever truly move on."
As Harrow left the room and the white door was locked, Zahra began to cry. She didn't know where she was; she wanted Marc; she wanted Steven; she wanted to go home.
Where were they?
"Zahra!"
The door was opened aggressively as the face of Marc Spector came into view, with a mixture of confusion and relief on his face as he found his wife.
"Marc!" Zahra cried out, jumping to hug him as tightly as she could, "Oh god. I thought I'd be stuck here and I—I—"
"It's okay, it's okay," Marc assured, grabbing her face.
Then, like a bolt of lightning, Steve pushed Marc out of the way to bring Zahra into another hug.
Steven had pushed Marc out of the way — the thought rang in Zahra's head as she came to terms with the fact the two of them were in very separate bodies.
"The two of you! The two of you are not in the same body!" Zahra exclaimed, breaking the hug, "Forget that, where are we?"
"I don't know about you but we're in an asylum," said Steven. "What do you last remember?"
"Harrow shot me!"
"Come on, we need to get out of here," Marc mumbled, grabbing Zahra's hand.
As they ran down the corridor, Zahra had a mixture of feelings but she felt better knowing she had both Marc and Steven. As they came to the end of the hall, double doors stood with a shadow looming on the other side.
"Hi!"
A shriek came from both Marc and Steve as the doors opened and a Hippo-like God stood towering over them. Zahra wasn't quite the same, remaining calm with a curious look on her face.
"Hippo! Hippo!" Steven gasped.
"Oh, man!" Marc said, placing his hands on his knees, "Wow, these meds are really amazing."
"Is he always so...intense?" The hippo questioned the other two.
"Who him?" Steven questioned.
"Yeah, I'd say do. You get used to it, don't worry," Zahra replied, patting Marc's shoulder.
Marc sighed, covering his eyes with his palms, trying to process everything going on.
"So, are you like twins?" The Hippo questioned.
"No," Marc answered.
"Well, yes, sort of," Steven replied.
"Okay great. That really cleared up this whole situation for me," The hippo replied sarcastically.
"That makes two of us. Just a second ago, I thought we'd been shot to death," Marc commented.
"Oh gosh! This will really bake your noodle but I think you were just taking a little time out. I'm afraid you're actually quite dead."
"What?" Zahra gasped.
"I'm dead? we're all dead?" Marc inquired.
"Yes," Steven whispered, "Yes, I think she's right. I think we died."
"I actually... I have... Hold on a sec. It's been a minute since we've had a soul pass through here. Bit distracted... Excuse me. A-ha! Okay, here we go." She unrolled a scroll from her pocket, "Welcome, gentle traveller... Travellers, to the realm of the Duat."
"Duat? The Egyptian underworld. This is Taweret, goddess of women and children...and she's guiding us through our journey to the afterlife. Wow." Steven blurted out.
"Okay. Right. So, this is the afterlife? The afterlife?" Marc questioned.
"An afterlife. Not the afterlife."Taweret explained, "You'd be surprised how many intersectional planes of untethered consciousness exist. Like the Ancestral Plane. Oh! Just gorgeous. Anyway. I do actually have cards for all this if you just wait, and... I'm sorry."
Marc had covered his face in disbelief to which Zahra had responded by taking his hand and holding it in between them. She gave him a soft smile that seemed to calm him down slightly.
"Okay, so... Because the Duat's true nature is impossible for the human mind to comprehend..."
"Right." Zahra nodded.
"You may perceive this realm as something more easily recognizable to you. Uh-huh. A psych ward's a first for me, but, hey, we can roll with it, right?"
"Why would we imagine this realm to be a psychiatric hospital?" Steven questioned.
"Because we're insane."Marc exhales," We're insane. Zahra doesn't have any memories. This talking hippo, talking dead bird, you're outside of my body now. And now the afterlife, right? That's the reality and this..."
"But Marc, Marc." Steven was cut off.
"The hospital. That's the imagination. Sorry, he's... Oh, man. Dr Harrow's right."
"Dr Harrow?" Steven questioned.
"This is an organizing principle."
"Is he a doctor now?" Steven added.
"I'll prove it to you. So, like, right through these doors, for example, we go through here, there's gonna be patients, and there's Crawley probably about to yell bingo!" Marc yelled, shoving the doors open.
Beyond the doors lay a boat, gliding across what appeared to be the desert but like it went on for infinity. Two tables stood in front of them with a set of scales. The scales had a statue carved into them.
"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! What is this?" Steven panicked.
"This is the underworld." Zahra breathed.
"I'm not crazy."Marc exclaimed, "I'm dead. Where did you say we're going?"
"We're sailing to A'aru. To the Field of Reeds, right, Taweret?" Steven pointed in front of them.
"Ah, so he's the smart one, hey?"Taweret replied, "Well, if your heart's balanced in life, then you will spend eternity in paradise. The Field of Reeds. But before we get there, I've just got to do a quick little..."
She raised her hands and plunged them into Marc and Steven's chests first, pulling out two hearts that were pearly white. She quickly moved to do the same to Zahra before the woman had time to freak out.
"Oh, goody! It worked! Look at that! There was little old me worrying I'd blow your chests wide open."
"Sorry, what?" Steven gasped.
"Wait, what's she doing?" Marc questioned.
"She's weighing our hearts on the Scales of Justice and the Feather of Truth. You see, the ancient Egyptians believed that the heart was the sign of who you really were in life. If the Scales balance by the time you end the journey, then a soul is permitted to pass into the Field of Reeds."
"How do you know that Z? Marc questioned, doubting she had memories that would have taught her that.
"I just do and besides, Nephthys took care of the dead and only those whose scaled weighed up," Zahra replied.
"What if they don't balance?"
"You get thrown overboard. Whoo!" Taweret answered. "The dead will drag you down into the Duat, where you will remain forever, frozen in the sand. No unbalanced souls on my boat. Them's the rules. Fingers crossed for you guys, hey?"
Marc walked to the edge of the boat, peering over. Zahra and Steve followed, looking at the sand that stretched for...well no one really knew.
"I don't care what this hippo says. There's no way we're ending up down there. And we're not going to the Field of Reeds, either. All right." Marc whispered.
"What are you proposing?"Steven asked.
"If it comes to it, kill the hippo, steal the boat."
"Kill? I don't think so," Zahra whispered back harshly. "Besides, what are three dead people going to do against a God, Marc?"
"Um, hello?" Taweret called them.
They turned back to God and noticed the two scales. Marc and Steven's scale was rocking back and forth heavily. Meanwhile, Zahra would look like it was about to balance before tipping away and then repeating the process.
"What? Why is it doing that? Why is it moving like that?" Steven questioned.
"I don't know. I do not have a card for this. Oh. It's the hearts. They aren't full. And trust me, I'm a goblet half-full kind of gal, but... It's like they each feel incomplete." Taweret explained.
"What does that mean?" Marc inquired.
"Without balanced Scales, the Duat will eventually claim your soul"
"Do you have any other suggestions?" Steven questioned.
"This boat contains all of a life's memories. Now I don't know what you two guys and lady have been hiding, but my advice, get in there and show each other the truth. Balance your Scales before we arrive at the Field of Reeds, or your souls will be destroyed." Taweret warned.
They pushed through the doors, wandering back into the white halls of the asylums. Then, Zahra lightly said what they had all been thinking:
"Yeah, all right. So how are we supposed to do this?"
"Not sure. You think Layla's all right?" Steve answered.
"Yeah, for now. And knowing her, she'll go on a suicide mission to stop Harrow herself." Marc replied.
"That means we better hurry, doesn't it?" Zahra added.
"Know what Layla would be all right with?"
"Don't. Just don't say it." Zahra warned.
"I'm just saying there is one hippo and two of us, and this ship can't be that hard to steer. So... And we don't have to actually..."
"Have to what? Kill the Goddess Taweret?" Steven asked him as he looked down the doors.
"No, just, you know, find me a rope and..."
"No! Stop," Zahra hit his arm. "Stop it. We can do what she says, and help each other uncover whatever it is that we're hiding, apparently.
"Steven, I don't know about you, but my memories are a mess," said Marc.
"Yeah, mine, too."
Zahra saw the door where Marc, in his suit, was brutally killing a jackal in a destroyed bathroom. She hummed before continuing to walk to a door on the other side, her memories.
"This is the day Omari found out who I was," said Zahra. "He was my only friend during those two months but I trusted him. Nephthys told me that he was a good person and he was."
Through the window, Marc and Steve saw Zahra running in front of Omari while bullets through towards him. Her suit climbed up her skin, covering every part of her body and the gold soon formed over the top with her cape and mask.
At the next door, Steve and Marc had more of an interest in it. It showed Zahra and Steven moving in the sky with Khonshu and Nephthys.
"Whoa, that's wild," Marc whispered.
"Marc, Steven," Zahra called. "Look."
Steven and Marc walked over to the door that Zahra stared intensely at.
"That's the date that...that I died."
The newspaper scattered on the table confirmed that. Past Zahra was buying a drink at a bar for Marc and water for herself — she had never liked drinking much back then.
"Z, don't, I don't — don't make me relive that," Marc begged.
Zahra had already opened the door with Steven following close behind. Steven turned to give Marc a glance.
"Here," Past-Zahra's voice was soft as she handed Marc his drink. "I'm going to speak to an informant and I need you to stay here."
"What, why?"
"You have anger issues, Marc," Past-Zahra patted his shoulder. "Not to mention, I have an okay name around the group I'm meeting with, you'll ruin it with your accent."
"I can speak Arabic—"
"Marc, we can tell who's not grown up here," Past-Zahra warned. "I got this. If I'm not home in half an hour, you can worry then."
Past-Zahra slipped a small piece of paper into his pocket with an address scribbled on it. She smiled at him before drowning the cup of water and making her way into the streets of Cairo.
"I was the reason you were trying to find information, I dragged you into the mess," Marc whispered, gripping Zahra's hand as she watched her past self run through the backstreets of Cairo.
"I knew what I was doing," Zahra replied.
"No offence, Zahra, but you don't exactly look confident there," Steve brought up after a moment.
Zahra looked back at her past self to understand what Steven meant.
"You are not Eli," Zahra whispered, backing away. "You're not who I agreed to meet with."
"Eli is dead!" The newcomer laughed, his head thrown back in amusement. "He gave you up in seconds and we killed him for being a traitor."
Past-Zahra pulled her dagger out from her boot, going to strike the man in the face. Ducking, the man hollered for his gang members to join the fight. Zahra was skilled but she couldn't hold off nine fully-grown men
"Shit."
Her boot collides with a large man's face as she round-house kicked him. He fell back into another, who simply pushed him away. Zahra refused to kill anyone — that was Marc's job — but injuring those who deserved it didn't upset her too much.
"I just want to know about—"
Blood dripped down onto the sandstone path, a harsh gap escaping Past Zahra's mouth, along with the on-looking on present Steven.
"Uncalled for," Past-Zahra whispered as she placed a hand on her wound.
She ducked through the arms of the next criminal, running through the backstreets towards the place Marc had last been. It had only been ten minutes, he was unlikely to have made it back home yet.
"Oh hey, Marc," Past-Zahra mumbled as she stumbled across her husband. "You may want to begin running.
"What the fuck, Z?!" Past-Marc yelled, grabbing her hand and running towards the open desert with her, "What did you do? Is that blood?"
"Just a scratch!"
"You got stabbed!" Past-Marc continued as he glanced down at her. "Amazing, I knew I should have come with you!"
"Shut up and summon your stupid suit!" Past-Zahra demanded as the nine men caught up with them.
The leader of the pack had a long gash down his face from eyebrow to chin, where Zahra had gotten the up hand. Another had a boot mark across his face with a broken nose, and the man next to him bleeding from his arm. The leader demanded five of his men to move to surround where they were, away from the fight but not allow Zahra to escape.
The white suit covered Marc from head to toe as he pushed Zahra behind him. Moon knight rose, striking the criminals immediately. It was four against one, which wasn't that big of a deal for Marc when the suit healed him. But that didn't mean he could keep an eye on them at all times unless they were attacking him.
"Marc..."
He turned, having killed the final man attacking him. The crescent-shaped moon weapon slammed into the chest of the final man, who had already gotten to his wife before he could do anything about it. The three stab wounds caused blood to pool around her torso, two from her back and one from the front. She fell forwards, gracefully caught by Marc.
"I-I don't want to d-die," Past-Zahra shivered. "I-it hurts, M-Marc-"
Past-Marc cradled his wife in his arms, his suit was gone and blood staining his clothing.
"I know, I know," Past-Marc cried. "We're going to get you help—"
"There's n-no one to h-help," Past-Zahra heaved. "I-I love you."
Marc and Steve were both crying as Zahra looked at her past self. She didn't imagine dying the way she did, it wasn't something she had thought about. She guessed she would die in a less gruesome way, or even alone, but not with Marc there.
"Zahra...Zahra, you died," Steve whispered.
"We know that Steven," said Marc through gritted teeth.
"Shut up," Zahra replied with her eye closed. "Shut up."
She didn't pay attention to the fact Past-Marc had murdered all the surrounding men or the sand that swirled around her bloodied body, which disappeared into the night with no trace. The only blood that stained the sand was remanded.
"Where am I?"
The sound of her own voice, caused Zahra to look back up. All around her, she could see sand and the night sky...except it was different. The sand was a shiny black and the moon was bright than ever before. There were no clouds, only stars.
"You are in a stage between death and life, which I have placed you into," The voice of Nephthys spoke.
"I died?" Past-Zahra frowned. "No...but Marc...oh God."
"I'm sorry, dear one, but this is not the end for you. I have watched your soul stay as pure as most can stay in the world you live in," Nephthys continued. "I have seen restraint where others do not show it. I offer you the opportunity to live."
"I can't become an Avatar, I watched too much heartbreak," Past-Zahra frowned. "It broke him, it broke us."
"Do you think the world deserves to live without you, Zahra Okasha?" Nephthys voice echoed. "All these heroes that loom the earth do not understand that there must be balance. Those that do not fear death are the most dangerous and those that fear it too much never live."
"If I become your avatar, I get to go back?"
"I cannot promise that your life will be the same, Zahra," said Nephthys. "You may not enter it the same way you died in it. But I swear, you will never fear me. I will only be there to help."
"Okay, I'll do it."
"I didn't remember anything when I got back," Zahra told Steven and Marc as she stared at her past self. "It was easier to do my job but I felt lost for a really long time."
"It wasn't your fault Marc," Steven told his look-alike, "There's nothing you could have done. You were wrong."
Zahra pulled both Marc and Steve out of the room, one hand in Marc's and her other hand wrapped around Steven's arm.
"Let's go, there are still so many doors."