"Who is she?" Layla asked when they were back in their room.

Marc shrugged. "No one knows. Well, Apophis, for sure, but no one else. Never got a formal introduction, aside from her being his avatar."

She looked at the moon god lounging on the outside terrace, precariously perched on the metal railing. Defying the laws of gravity and most other earthly ones.

"You can't tell?"

"The ceremonial armor protects her identity," he answered calmly. "No god can look through an armor's shield to see beneath the mask."

"But she was without the armor in Paris. Marc told me."

"The armor is always there." Khonshu gestured at Marc. "My avatar wears it beneath his skin."

"Oh. Interesting."

"But my identity isn't hidden," Marc stated with a frown.

"No."

"And hers is?"

"Yes."

"Cryptic much?" he grumbled.

Khonshu's amusement washed over him. "It is her ability, her power. You experience it every time you talk to her. She is invisible if she wants to be. No one can perceive her presence."

"Aside from another avatar," he murmured. "So she uses that ability to shield her identity from other deities?"

"Yes."

"Why isn't she dropping this… glamor or shield?" Layla asked.

"No clue. We don't even know her name," Marc sighed and leaned against the wall behind the bed he sat on.

"And the way she acts. So distant. Almost like she hasn't interacted with another human being in…"

"Millennia?" he finished.

Layla sat down beside him, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Yes."

"Apophis called her a queen. Not his queen, but a queen who was killed by her people. She's probably a pharao's wife."

"And the pharaoh died of natural, maybe unnatural, causes," she added, nodding. "She ruled in his place until a male heir could take over, then she disappeared. There are dozens of names that come to mind and she might just be one of those we have never heard of before either."

"Or found a mummy of. She's not dead, so her grave would be empty."

Layla hummed. "She's been alone ever since, after her people betrayed her, tried to kill her… probably did… and Apophis offered her a way to continue."

Khonshu watched them from outside, one leg swinging over the railing. "It took five hundred years for their soul bond to form," he supplied, voice quiet and a little distant.

"Five… hundred?!" Marc stared at him.

"Yes."

"Wow, you two took the fast lane," Layla teased, interlacing their fingers. "Warp speed."

He gaped at her. Layla just smiled back.

"I believe she is older than even Hathor's avatar," the moon god went on. "From long before the time the Ennead decided to turn their cowardly backs on humankind."

"And she's been quite alone ever since," Layla concluded.

What a sad existence, Steven commented, voice reflecting his own emotions. It wasn't pity, but something along the lines of empathy for her. She outlived her kingdom, her people, her culture. She saw the rise and fall of many more to come, but always on her own. No family, no lasting friends.

Marc gave his alter a sympathetic look.

We have each other, Steven continued, meeting Marc's eyes. She has no fellow human. Only Apophis.

"She is his mate," Marc said softly.

Layla gave him a quick look, then obviously determined that she had missed part of the conversation and raised her eyebrows. Marc told her what Steven had said.

"You think she's really… well, married, for lack of a better word? To a giant demon snake?"

"Uhm, you wanna answer that, big guy?" Marc called over to Khonshu.

There was an amused huff. "You are limited by your human brains."

"Only one I've got," Layla shot back.

He chuckled. "She is Apophis' bond-mate. What you believe that might imply is up to you."

Marc shook his head. "Way to be helpful."

Khonshu's sockets glinted a little and Marc felt him curl closer, caressing his soul.

"Apophis is not limited to one shape," he simply said.

Oh? Steven perked up. Then realization hit. Oh!

Layla chuckled. "Good for her, though I won't ask just what shape or shapes he can take on."

The moon god gave an amused rumble.

"You think she might just trust you enough to truly reveal herself?" Layla wanted to know after a while. "More than just her lower face?"

Marc shrugged. "Hopefully. I'd like to really meet her."

So do I!

"All we see is a role, a façade. I think there's more to her and she's more than just the bond-mate or the avatar."

"Marc Spector!" she exclaimed, dark eyes lit up with laughter. "You sap!"

"Take that back!"

"Never!"

She laughed as he pulled her close, kissing her, then snuggling closer. Marc wrapped his arms around her, meeting Khonshu's empty sockets over her wild curls. The moon god was watching them with a fond expression spilling over the bond.

It was the first time Marc was torn between needing Layla to leave and wanting her to stay. On one side, the other dimension could be dangerous. Layla was only human and no match for either Apophis or his avatar. Moon Knight wasn't a match, so his wife wouldn't stand a chance.

But on the other side, having her here was wonderful. He enjoyed spending so much time with Layla, outside a mission, a job or research. She travelled the world, had her own life, but it was interwoven with his; so very tightly interwoven.

Layla was important. Khonshu had called her his reality so long ago. She was that: his reality, part of his life, part of their lives.

"You'll be okay?"

Marc laughed humorlessly. "Just as usual."

"So, a walking disaster?" she teased.

He wrapped her in his arms. "Without you? An unmitigated disaster," he whispered into her ear.

She held on to him, then stepped back with a decisive expression. "I'll meet with some people in Cairo. They might have an idea about the new items. I also want to check a few more leads from the other items. So far we haven't had much luck."

He nodded. "Be careful."

"You first."

The kiss was only a temporary good-bye.

She left two hours later, hugging Steven who had fronted to say good-bye.

"Take care," Layla said fiercely.

"We will. Be careful out there."

She chuckled. "I always am. I'm a lot more worried about you two. Three," she added.

"We'll be fine. All of us. Apophis isn't the enemy and neither is his lady knight."

Layla nodded slowly. "I'll let you know about what I can find. The usual. And I expect you to call."

Steven smiled. "Of course I will. And Marc. Marc will call, too," he added quickly.

Her grin said it all.

She kissed his cheek. "Take care of him?" she whispered.

"You know I will," he replied, just as low.

I'm not a child or a person in need of care-taking! Marc grumbled, but his soft expression and small smile said it all.

And then she drove off, heading to the small airport to take a short flight to Cairo.

Marc had yet to get a clear read on their fellow avatar.

On one side, the lady knight was distant, sometimes more like a robot than a human being in her behavior, always watching, assessing, barely showing any initiative to get to know Moon Knight or either Marc or Steven any closer.

Then she suddenly stated something unexpected out of the blue, as if it had snuck up on her unaware.

Steven thought it might be because she had only ever been around Apophis since her death and rebirth as the demon-god's avatar.

"Think of it," he said thoughtfully as they sat together in the core. "No other contact. Only an other-dimensional entity. She couldn't be around her own people, because she was dead to them. She might not even have moved away from Egypt, or not very far. Maybe she travelled to see other countries, but at the time that wasn't really much of a vacation idea. I'm not sure if avatars hold jobs…"

Khonshu gave a barely perceptible shrug.

"Not me," Marc muttered with a mock dark glare at his god.

"You are special," Khonshu retorted.

Marc smirked. "Oh, I knew that. A special kind of insane, if you ask me."

Moon energy swirled around him, almost playful, brushing over his skin, his hair, his clothes. He felt the invisible bandages hug his skin, gentle and warm.

"My avatars are my warriors," Khonshu added calmly. "That was always their only mission, their only job. The Ennead needs no warriors, only watchers. Wherever their vessels reside."

"So Yatzil and the others might just have a normal nine-to-five job?" Steven asked curiously.

"Most likely."

"But Apophis' avatar probably never did. Her interactions show a… a lack of social skills."

Marc shot him a teasing grin. "Worse than you?" he jabbed gently.

"Oh, way worse than me," was the aloof answer, Steven's eyes dancing with laughter. Then he threw a pillow at Marc.

The other batted it away, grinning even more, completely relaxed and at ease. It reflected in Khonshu's own stance. The moon god was clearly mirroring the calm, almost serene moment within the core with his anchors.

Yeah, they were finally getting the hang of the whole balance thing, as well as how to equal out Khonshu's more extreme surges. It happened subconsciously, but Marc felt how calm and more at ease their god could be sometimes. It happened more and more often, and while Khonshu would never be laid back, he was also no longer a live fuse.

"It's actually quite a sad existence," Steven suddenly said, clutching another pillow to himself. "No human contact. Maybe occasionally, but who knows? Just your god and that's it." He quickly looked at their own deity. "Which isn't a bad thing, but still… lonely."

"It is," the moon god acknowledged. "I am very well versed in the matter."

Marc's expression grew sharper, but the other presence around and within them was still easy and evened out.

Right. The banishment.

The wound was still there, that chafing feeling, but it was scarring over. And the scar, while it would never disappear, didn't feel painful anymore. Khonshu was leaning on his avatar to heal himself in that regard and Marc was only too happy to give the deity what he needed, even though there was nothing he could actively do. Still, it helped.

"Thousands of years," Steven murmured. "So sad. She might not know how to interact with her own kind anymore. And she hides. For whatever reason."

Disfigurement? Marc thought. Because she didn't really hit him as shy. There were no scars on the lower half of her face, the only part he had ever been allowed to see.

His alter shook his head, clearly picking up on the surface thoughts.

"She doesn't trust us," Marc simply said out loud.

"Not with her identity. Maybe because we would recognize her?"

"A thousands of years old woman from Egypt?" Marc snorted.

"A woman who was a pharao's wife. A queen. Maybe her face is painted on a wall. Maybe there are busts of her, small statues, maybe even a death mask."

"You might recognize her, Steven. I wouldn't," Marc teased.

"Well, I don't know every single pharaoh or queen…"

"Just ninety-nine percent?"

Steven grimaced. "Maybe we can get her to trust us," he finally said. "That she can be herself? Wearing the armor all the time, the mask… it must be unpleasant."

Khonshu rumbled. "It is?"

"Uhm… well, maybe? I mean, it's not for me. It should be suffocating under the mask of our ceremonial armors, but it isn't. I never gave it much thought, actually…"

"The armor adjusts to its wearer. It is part of you," the moon god stated calmly.

"That means it's not uncomfortable for her?"

"No."

"Alright." He frowned, thoughtful.

"We'll be patient," Marc only said.

They had to be. There was nothing else for them to do.

"You are quite an interesting person, Marc Spector. But it was also to be expected. Khonshu is known for choosing… a different path."

"Uh-huh. You met his other avatars?"

"Not quite. As the only other entity physically manifested in this realm, we were aware of him and his avatars."

Just mentioning those who had been his predecessors had Marc feel slightly off-kilter. He knew there had been many before him, none a soul-bound, because that was a once in a lifetime event, but still… He had never asked, had never wanted to know, and yet he felt almost threatened by the men and women who were probably long dead and gone.

"You are different because two souls, but only one body. Yet you only fight with one."

Marc regarded the lady knight with a dark expression. She had simply approached and unloaded those statements on him. It showed her lack of social interaction with anyone outside Apophis on more than a surface level. She might have lived for a long, long time, but she was stiff, formal and very distant. She also spoke her mind and was extremely forward.

"What are you talking about?"

"You could be two."

"We are two," he answered levelly.

"No. You are two souls and you share one body."

"Which is just fine."

"It limits interaction and fighting skills."

The scowl was fierce. "We are not limited, lady. Especially in a fight!"

She regarded him silently, then, "Yes, I saw you can switch within a battle. That is quite intriguing and can catch an enemy off guard. If you split, you would have twice the advantage."

Split?! Steven blurted, suddenly highly alarmed.

Panic spread through Marc and it were primarily Steven's emotions, but he felt the same, only on a much more controlled level.

NO! We can't… we can't separate! his alter insisted, sounding extremely shaky. No, no, no!

"We are not going to separate," Marc said, more to Steven than to the other avatar. "It's not physically possible."

"It is."

Steven was still shaking his head, hands twisting. No.

"We're not Siamese twins!" he blurted, suddenly fronting. "We're not two bodies! We're one body! And it's ours. We're one! We can see each other, and we can touch and interact in the core!"

Marc froze as Steven revealed that information.

Apophis' knight drew up sharply. "You have a soul space?" she asked, her voice suddenly reflecting surprise and something almost like shock.

"Soul… space…? Well, we have the core. The root."

"A soul space," she repeated, now clearly flabbergasted. It was the very first time she displayed such an intense emotional reaction. "You created a place within you? You gave root to your connection with your god?"

"Uhm, yes? It's where the soul bond connects us all. Marc, Khonshu, myself. Khonshu said it was always there, within Marc. Don't you and Apophis share a core?"

She appeared almost contemplative. "We have no need for such a nexus."

Steven frowned a little. "But it's where the bond connects."

"For you," she told him, still sounding slightly off, as if she was processing it all and clearly working through the shock. "Apophis and I don't need such a place. You created a space where you are physical. The soul space."

"But how… if I may ask… and you really don't have to answer it…" Steven stammered, "how do you and Apophis connect?"

Her stance suddenly softened and he could almost imagine a smile. The black eyes reflected it, taking on a pearlescent sheen similar to Apophis' own eyes. For that one moment she was no longer unapproachable but very human and very real.

"The heart."

The heart; believed to be the source of human wisdom, as well as emotions, memory, the soul and the personality itself, by the ancient Egyptians.

"Oh," he whispered. "I understand." He smiled softly. "I really do."

Her stance shifted yet again and she cocked her head a fraction. "You are one," she stated, sounding intrigued. "More than I thought. A balance needed within a body. And this body," she gestured at him, "is not the one I am talking about. It is the Moon Knight. There are two warriors and both could fight an opponent."

"What." Marc didn't even make it a question as he fronted smoothly, his stance shifting, clearly broadcasting a warning again.

"Your god's power fuels the ceremonial armor. You are the Moon Knight, but you are also the alter. You are both, at the same time, in the same space. Your armors, while different, occupy the same space. You are effectively two, but you limit yourselves."

Within the mind-space, Steven blinked. His mouth opened, then shut again.

"Both your armors are your god's. With the unlimited access you have to the moon's energy, you could theoretically exist as two. A god of Khonshu's power could render a new form, using his essence to spark your soul into it."

Marc's brows dropped into a fierce scowl. Steven was silent, but his mind was racing. His sheer terror at the thought of a separation was still there. To be on his own, without the other soul in the back of the mind-space, as well as the presence of Khonshu everywhere.

We have the core! he stated shakily. That's where we are both… where we are physically there.

"We don't need to split," Marc growled, addressing him and the lady knight together. "We're just fine as we are."

But if she is correct, his alter continued, suddenly thoughtful, Khonshu's power would give each of us a body outside the root because of the armors. That's… both terrifying and fascinating! But I don't want to have a body created from… Khonshu's energy or whatever. That's… no… I don't want that.

Marc was silent, still staring darkly at her. Khonshu was quiet, his presence there but muted, and his emotional fluctuations were rather mellow. He was listening; interested.

She just waited; silent. Like a statue once more.

"You want me to trust your word that this is even remotely possible?"

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. "It is logical. The moon's power is within both of you. You have different battle forms, each powerful on its own. I faced you as you switched seamlessly. Effortlessly." She sounded impressed. "It stands to reason that you should at least be able to split when you access your god's energy as you summon your suit, Marc Spector. The energy sustains your armor, as well as your alter's armor. You fight as one, but you could be both. It is an advantage no other avatar warrior has."

"How many avatar warriors are there?" Marc asked wryly. "Aside from you? The others are bureaucrats. Diplomats at best."

Her eyes reflected her own, wry smile.

If we exist together in the same space while you are the Moon Knight, which means I am Mr. Knight at the same moment, and if the suits would enable us to be two in a fight, how would that even work? Steven suddenly asked, still turning this terrifying idea over and over in his mind. We wouldn't be in two physically separate forms, at least for a prolonged time. It would be connected to us wearing the ceremonial suits, correct?

Marc translated.

She chuckled. "You are without precedence. All of you is, Marc Spector. There is no way for me to tell you how to split. The possibility is there. You have the power to do it. How you will accomplish that would be trial and error."

"Not gonna do it," he decided. "That's one thing I'm not risking! Steven and I are a package deal."

"Very well."

Marc watched her walk away, a scowl on his features. Steven was still shaken up and his expression was one of barely avoided panic, intermixed with his fascination that it might be possible. Marc decided to cut today's visit short and crossed the threshold, back into what he liked to call 'reality', though it was simply another realm. His realm; home.

His car was still where he had parked it and he drove back to the city of Saqqara. Steven was silent and Khonshu, while there, was invisible.

Do you really think it's possible? Steven finally spoke up when he had parked the car outside the boarding house.

Marc pocketed the key and took the stairs to their room.

"Doesn't matter. We're not going to separate."

She does have a point. Not with a permanent separation, but in a battle situation…

"No, Steven. Just: no."

But…

Marc shut and locked the door of the room. Steven's reflection in the full-length mirror showed his still lingering anxiety, the fear of losing each other.

He sat down and closed his eyes and easily fell into the core. He wordlessly wrapped Steven into a hard, tight hug.

"We are not separating," he whispered fiercely. "This is us. One body, two souls, and a grumpy moon god who wouldn't know what to do without us."

Steven gave a wet little laugh, clinging to him. "She…"

"Don't listen to her."

"What if…"

"No!" he insisted, fisting his hands into the loose sweater. "No. Never. We're one and we stay one. Too risky. If we can't… if we can't go back… I can't lose you! Ever!"

Steven buried his face against his shoulder, fine tremors running through his body. Marc closed his eyes and just held on, equally shaken up by the very notion. He also cursed the lady knight for bringing it up. Sure, she had no clue about their past, Marc's unbalanced mental state, their battles, their pain, but somehow she had hit a nerve without intending to.

He had no idea how long they stayed like this, giving and receiving comfort, but when he finally released Steven, Khonshu was standing next to them, arms crossed in front of his chest, moon staff leaning against one shoulder.

The moon god looked down, meeting his soul-bound's eyes. A pinprick of brightness hovered deep inside the empty sockets.

"Not happening," Marc repeated softly.

Linen wraps caressed his skin as the ragged cape fluttered around them.

"No," Khonshu agreed quietly. "It won't."

"W-would it have been possible?" Steven asked hesitantly, eyes seeking out Khonshu's sockets. "To give us two bodies, separate the souls?"

Like a dog with a bone, Marc thought with a mental sigh.

The moon god stiffened and drew himself up to his full height.

"Khonshu?" Marc inquired sharply. "Is it possible?"

"It might be… but with great sacrifice."

Steven wheezed and Marc refused to let go of his alter, feeling the other's fingers dig into his own sweater.

"With enough energy, with magic… dark magic, most likely… borderline gray maybe…" Khonshu's words came almost haltingly and it was shaking every so slightly.

Only audible to those who knew him.

Like his avatar.

"You c-could… separate us?"

"No!" he thundered, gesturing sharply. "No!" The lights around them flickered as the core shook from the power racing through it. "It would be… an abomination… as bad as an Unholy! Giving a living soul a recreated form… made of nothing but dead matter that is infused with energy and brought to life… is the darkest of deeds!" he hissed. "I would never do that to my soul-bound!"

The lights blacked out for just a moment, then returned to normal as the rage and anxiety, the fury and the sheer disgust all mixed into one serious overload. Marc grabbed one bandaged limb, wrapping his fingers tightly around Khonshu's wrist.

"No," he agreed.

It was like a lightning rod, bleeding off the furious energy, grounding the eternal being. He felt the power wash over his body and mind without inducing pain. It held him, clung to him, and it showed the entity's desperation, his own terror.

Khonshu's presence smoothed abruptly, was like a warm rain, washing away the unease and unhappiness still coming from Steven.

"Never," the moon god whispered roughly. "You… would not… could not survive. Your minds are in perfect balance and symmetry. Creating a new form for you, Steven Grant, would destroy you. It would annihilate your soul. I would never destroy this…"

"Perfection," Steven echoed the words of long ago.

They wouldn't be able to exist as separate entities. Because they weren't separate. There was a kind of dependence, but not in a bad way. It was a connection, their own kind of soul bond, one that had existed for close to forever.

Marc knew he needed Steven right where he was and Steven…

"I need you, too, you idiot," Steven told him fiercely, clearly hearing the unspoken thoughts.

They had always needed each other. It was how they had survived until today.

Together, as one.

Marc smiled, somewhat softly. "Yeah."

Khonshu curled himself around his avatar's souls, echoing the sentiment. It was heady and warm, like wrapped in a dozen blankets, it was safety and home.