Freedom
Harrow and his people stood in front of the Great Pyramid of Giza, watching as a way to the inside of it opened up before their eyes.
They strode into the big hall inside of the pyramid, on every entrance stood one of them. No one should get in or out without them knowing.
He was about to let Ammit free as the other Avatars walked inside, "Someone is disturbing the peace-" spoke one of them, only to cut themselves off as they saw what was taking place in their Gods pyramid.
Harrow's men started to get to the avatars, making them kneel right in front of a wall as their gods only watched. The Champers of the Great Pyramid were a neutral ground, so no fight between gods would ensue and no avatar was harmed.
Their eyes went wide as they could only watch while Harrow freed Ammit from her prison. They could only watch as she took hold in this realm and materialised in front of them, head high and superior. She was gloating from the sight of the other God's avatars as they kneeled there, not doing anything.
She watched them, watched everyone in the room as her eyes fell again upon the avatars. One of their eyes shined bright white as their fingertips started to glow with white energy. She only had to use a small amount of her power to put the fighting down. It was almost embarrassing to see how her fellow Gods stayed in the safety of their avatars, their Othervoid, rather than joining them in this realm.
But no, they would rather stay in the othervoid, where nothing of this or any universes could interfere with their peace. They abandoned humanity because humanity abandoned their belief in them. Ammit strutted around the mortal souls that stood by every entrance. She was able to feel the other imprisoned deities in a room not too far away.
Those cannot help them anymore. What a shame. Their arrogance and ignorance brought them to this.
"Who have I to thank for freeing me?"
The avatars kneeled there, almost feeling abandoned by their gods. But they knew. Their Gods always said that they can't, that they won't leave their realm. There is no need to because they won't interfere anymore with humankind, since they lost the belief in them.
Yatzil was sitting there, almost as if paralyzed from Ammit's attack. She could still hear Hathor's voice but it seemed off, pained. Too silent to be anywhere near her but still there, as if not able to remove themselves from her being.
Yatzil and the other avatars couldn't think, something was blocking them to focus on their Gods. They felt like dying and still, here they were. Alive. Paralyzed by Ammit's powers.
All of them shortly thought about how, maybe, Khonshu and his avatar would help them. Save them, only to then come back down to their bitter reality.
They and their Gods imprisoned Khonshu, ripping him away from his avatar. They got warned by them but were blinded by their conflict. Yatzil looked at the others. They were just as drained of their powers as she was. "What... Is with Marc Spector?" She whispered, trying not to be heard by the deity and her followers.
We ripped his God out of his body, his being. We ripped Khonshu right out of Marc's soul.
Selim lowered his head, shaking it. "He died, trying to stop-" he tried to say, but got interrupted by Harrow, who was walking up to the other Avatars. "He tried to prevent us from our task to save humankind. I'm sorry for him but he needed to be sacrificed for others to live in a peaceful world." Harrow stated.
Ammit tilted her head slightly, thinking. "That was the avatar of Khonshu, am I correct?" She began, smirking. "How sad to hear that as soon as he doesn't have his God anymore, he perishes. Like a nestling without its parents. Not able to live without protection."
⊰᯽⊱┈──╌ •| ⊱✿⊰ |• ╌──┈⊰᯽⊱
Marc slowly tried to get up from the water, to get them out of here. The first thing he felt was unbearable pain in his chest, right where his heart was. Closing his eyes, he hissed and fought through the insufferable pain.
As long as I don't look, it's not there. As long as I don't-
His line of thought was interrupted by Steven and Jake, who were cursing. Or more like, Jake was cursing all of the universes in Spanish as Steven gasped aloud and tried to get Marc to open his eyes, to get all ready over the pain.
I think... I think the bullets-
He gasped, opening his eyes. As his eyes freed themselves from tears the only thing he could see was red. Red in the water. Red on the sarcophagus. Red on the flour. Red on Layla's body. Red on the dead people littering the ground. Red on- "Layla?"
Marc stumbled out of the water, falling, gasping for air that wouldn't reach his lungs. Everything burned and they could feel the energy of Osiris's fate. Not that there was much, to begin with. They were dying again, weren't they?
Doesn't matter. Layla- What happened to Layla? Why is she lying there? Layla. Layla, wake up. Layla-
His sight grew blurry, tears gathering in his eyes as he fell to the ground, just mere meters away from Layla. "Layla, come on. Wake up. Layla!" He screamed out. First in frustration and worry, then in pain, as he felt something latched in his chest. As Marc started to track himself towards Layla, ignoring the pain, Jake and Steven watched blood spread on the ground under them as it flows out of their shared body.
"Oh, my— Bloody hell— we are screwed. So totally screwed. We are dead! We are so dead, oh man! We are dying again! The bullets are still in our chest! Jake, Marc! How are we supposed to do this while having a bloody, no, no no no — two! We have two bloody bullets in our chest!" Steven cried out. His voice was laced with discomfort, worry and desperation. Jake started to calm him down. They didn't need two of them out because they started hyperventilating. And as it looked, Marc wasn't faring better in long term.
How are we supposed to save anyone, if we are still fucking dying? Fucking Gods! No use for anything besides freaking letting people — let us die!
Jake tried to front, to let Marc get hold of his emotions. Maybe they, Steven and Marc, could calm themselves better than Jake could. He didn't know how to work with this kind of emotion. The only emotions he can work with are hate, anger, maybe some desperation and fear. But he did never let any of the last ones take control of him. Why should he let them control him if he could control them?
Marc violently shook his head from left to right and back again, as he got next to Layla. He ignored the flaring pain in his chest as it crept into his soul and every part of his body.
As long as I am fronting, they won't feel the pain. They can only see it. Feel some pressure. There will be no pain as long as Steven and Jake aren't fronting. This is fine- we are fine. We just need to get to... Layla.
Taking his hands up to the injury to Layla's head and the one to her torso, he pressed on them. Silent tears were falling onto her clothing as he almost prayed for someone to save her. In a moment of clarity, he looked for a pulse, for her breathing and breathed a sigh of relief, as he found one. He would almost say stronger than his own-
Their eyes widened at the realisation. Their heart. It was pierced by at least one bullet. It's still bleeding. But it was not beating. Their heart was not beating. They were sent into their dead body. If they didn't get Khonshu back they would die just as fast. They would be no use to the Gods. They would have died again without the chance to save anyone. This was them dying without any use to the world.
If they would have a beating heart, it would be going as fast as it could only to show how bad the situation was, they were in right now. "So this what that Os-can-fuck-himself-iris meant by, 'He could only give us so freaking much to not fucking die immediately'?!" Jake shouted into their shared mind-space. Everything in there was blurred and shone with white light. But somehow they were still able to see what was happening around their body.
Steven and Jake watched, as Marc slowly, whit shaking hands, took Layla in his arms. Still pressing his hands into the wounds that were on her still frame. The sight of their host hurt just like they would be the ones that were in distress. "Marc, we need to stop the bleeding."
Jake wasn't sure himself if he meant the bleeding of their own body or Layla's. He didn't know what to make of Layla but as long as she made the others happy he would put up with her. And if that meant saving her life, so be it.
"Marc! The bleeding!" He yelled just as Marc seemed to come back to himself. Marc's eyes were still glassed over as if he still wasn't completely there, but he began to pull her to the water.
The shimmering water flowed over her wounds as it cleaned them. The clear waters once more turned into a slight pink as it blended in with their blood. "Layla, please. Wake up," Marc whispered. Steven tried to comfort Marc but as long as Layla was out, he wasn't in the mind space to think straight.
Marc carefully cleaned the wounds and after that, he stumbled towards one of the dead men, taking their bandanna and whatever else he could find that would help stop the bleeding.
With every step he took, his sight grew more and more blurry, and his legs felt weaker and weaker the more time went by. He ignored all that in favour to save his wife but he feared that he wouldn't make it till then.
I can do this. I need to do this. For Layla. For Steven and Jake. For Khonshu.
He clenched his eyes together as he misstepped and dropped to the ground. "Fuck," he breathed out and pulled himself towards his wife, and continued "I'm sorry, I got this."
"Marc, let me or Steven take over. Let one of us front. Marc, it's not going to help if you let the fucking body go unconscious!" Jake shouted, even though he tried to stay calm. His worry got in the way and the annoyance displayed as the reflection Marc could see in the water next to himself and Layla.
"I'm sorry. I won't let us die again, I won't!" Marc yelled desperate, guilt dripping with every word he uttered. "I won't let that happen..." He whispered while covering Layla's wounds with the cloth. A silent sight was heard in the inner part of their mind as Steven calmed down to see that the bleeding of Layla's wounds started to come to a halt as her breathing levelled out.
Just as the three alters were able to register that Layla started to wake up, their body slowly, part after part, shut down on them. Breathing grew more difficult the longer he tried it and he felt his brain shut down from the efforts of staying awake.
Marc tried to stay awake, wanting to at least see Layla awake and alive one more time. Layla opened her eyes with a gasp of pain as she jumped up, looking around. "Marc...?" She asked as her eyes fell upon the silent figure of her husband, whoever was right now controlling his body.
The smile that he was giving her was one of grief and guilt. His mouth moved slightly upwards as if he couldn't muster the strength for its movement. Her eyes flew wide open as she saw how pale he was, how he was shivering and-
There is so much blood...
She stumbled towards him, letting herself fall down in front of Marc, as he mouthed a silent 'I love you' before going limp, falling towards her. "Marc? Marc hey, don't do that to me now! Marc! Steven! Please..!" She gasped for air that wouldn't come while looking at the still body in her arms.
Her eyes fell upon the two still bleeding wounds in his chest. "Oh... Oh my... No, no! Please... You couldn't heal, you-" she sniffed, holding him close to her. "You can't just leave me here, Marc Spector, Steven Grant. You are not allowed to leave just yet..."
They could still hear Layla talk to them. They could still feel her warmth on their body. "That means we aren't dead yet, again? Right?" Steven asked Jake and Marc. Jake just shook his head violently as Marc looked into nothingness. "Marc?" Both Steven and Jake said in unison as they felt their worry grow. "Fuck." - "Bollocks." They both said as they saw Marc fall to the ground, holding his hands up to his head, muttering things they couldn't understand.
