The world was… a room.
Wooden beams, hardwood floor, slightly threadbare rugs… a wild collection of books, papers, magazines and many, many knick-knacks on endless shelf space. Light streamed in from the skylights. The bed was rumpled and unmade, a dozen pillows, all with different pillow cases, all different sizes, were all over the mattress.
The flat. Their flat.
He was standing in the middle of the flat on a cloudy afternoon. Even the ratty green chair was there.
Steven had no recollection of coming home and for a second he was close to hyperventilating, then he caught sight of his alter.
"Marc?" he whispered.
Wide eyes, dark and filled with overwhelming emotions, met his. There were dark smudges underneath those eyes, his skin pale. Marc was wearing the full Moon Knight armor, without the cowl and face mask, and he looked like he was at the end of his emotional ropes.
"Uh… what… how…? Did you… did you… how… are you okay?!"
Steven was caught in an embrace that almost bowled him over. Warmth blossomed inside him and he held on instinctively. It was the moment he realized he was in his Mr. Knight suit.
The core! Goodness, they were in the core! It wasn't really the flat. Yes, it looked like it, but it wasn't. Marc had pulled them both to where the soul bond was rooted.
"Sorry," Marc murmured, clinging to him. "Sorry if it was abrupt, but…" He exhaled. "Sorry."
He returned the hug, shaking his head with an almost goofy smile. "No, it's quite alright. You needed it. You were mentally completely exhausted. I have to say so am I. That wasn't a walk in the park, was it? So intense. The transition was a bit jarring, needs getting used to, but amazing. You're getting good. And the details of the core are amazing! It's so much more than the last time."
Marc pushed back, his smile watery, the laugh barely there. "Wasn't just me. Khonshu pushed. I still need the training wheels."
Steven chuckled, then he ran a slightly shaking hand through his already very tousled hair. He experimentally willed the suit away and it did. He was in black sweatpants and a long-sleeved black shirt.
"Huh." He spread his arms. "Neat."
Marc grinned a little and he was suddenly gray sweatpants and a light gray Henley, the Moon Knight armor gone. He still looked rather shaken. And tired.
"You okay?" Steven inquired, worry creasing his forehead.
"Yeah."
"You look like crap, mate."
He snorted. "Thanks, Steven. Just what I needed to hear."
"This was bad," Steven said, sounding lame even to his own ears. "Could have been better, I guess. Didn't think they could dislike Khonshu any more than they already do. Well, except Yatzil."
"I do not care whether they like me or not!" The moon god was suddenly there, standing in the middle of the flat, radiating his displeasure.
"Clearly." Steven studied him, biting at his lower lip.
This was Khonshu. No glamours, no glitter, no brightly colored robes or golden jewelry. As if he was still stripped of rank and standing, banished and shamed. But he wasn't. There was pride and power, such power… and it entwined perfectly with his Knight. Steven had long since realized that Khonshu was as emotionally stunted as his host was in many situations, but he loved his soul-bound and was dedicated to his protection.
He still looked furious, radiating it with such force, it would have bowled them over mere months ago. Right now it was like watching a wild sea, foaming waves crashing against the rocky shore, yet he had himself under a lot more control.
And they were in the core, where they all connected, where the root lay. It spoke lengths that Khonshu had guided or pushed Marc into this space. Very tell-tale, Steven decided.
"You… you were physically present… in a neutral zone. The Council. That was… quite unexpected…" he probed carefully, eyes on the entity. He had a million and one theories, but he suspected he knew the truth.
It got him a huff.
Marc crossed his arms in front of his chest, still a little too drained and sleep-deprived in Steven's opinion. He felt the soft waves between their souls, felt the perfection that was them, and it reassured him that Marc was fine.
"That was quite a stunt you pulled," he added, almost accusatory. "A little warning would have been nice, Khonshu!"
"I did not know it would happen."
Marc's eyes were almost comically wide. "You what?"
"Isn't the purpose of the Council Chamber that only the avatar can enter?" Steven piled on top of that. "It's neutral ground. The other gods did have this gob-smacked expression. I guess it never happened before, am I right? Because no one was able to… do it? Before you made your entrance… so abruptly and unexpectedly. I think Osiris was that close to blasting you, actually." He held his thumb and forefinger barely wide enough apart to fit a piece of paper. "Political disaster!"
Khonshu snorted, amused. "Osiris would not have dared."
"He might make an exception for you," Marc snarled, raking a hand through his curls.
Steven shot him another assessing look. He didn't like how much this had cost the other man. This was Marc's body and mind they were talking about. He felt slightly worried how cruelly tired Marc still looked.
"He also detests leaving the cushy, opulent realm of the Overvoid," Khonshu continued. "And yes, he also cannot physically enter the pocket dimension of the Council Chamber. It truly is protected against the physical presence of any god. It prevents… more intense disagreements. To enter through an avatar would eat away from the host's soul, most likely destroy them. No god would risk that."
"You did," Marc stated flatly. "Though right now I do feel like someone drained me." He crossed his arms again, staring at the moon god.
"You managed the impossible because of Marc," Steven added, mirroring the gesture. "But it costs the avatar nevertheless."
Khonshu was close to them now. "What I told the Ennead was no lie. I will not harm you. I would never deplete you. I will protect you with my everything I am."
"Then why do I feel like that's a big, fat obfuscation?"
"It was your first time, Marc."
Steven burst out laughing and Marc swatted his arm.
"You felt the brunt of this first time," Khonshu added with an audible smirk. "But you are still whole. Still healthy and complete."
"And no one but Marc can do this?" Steven asked.
"No one but you two. Both sides. It needs the warrior and you."
"The idiot?"
Marc's eyes narrowed and he sharply turned to his alter. But Khonshu didn't give him a chance.
"The warrior's shield," the deity corrected him. "A fighter."
Steven blinked. "Oh…"
Khonshu placed a finger under his chin, those empty sockets filled with endless darkness. "Still an idiot, though," he teased. "You are a fighter. You are important. It would always need more than one soul to do what I did. Always. One body and soul cannot sustain the life energy needed to allow a god entrance."
"Life energy," Marc echoed flatly, eyes darker.
Khonshu's smile was almost visible. "I did you no harm."
"But you used our life energy."
"No. With one soul it would be life that is drained. You are the foundation of this bond, Marc Spector and Steven Grant. This." He gestured at the space around them. "You are the root. I am connected to that and it gives me a way to wherever you are."
"That rush…"
"Was the anchor taking hold in the root."
Steven's mouth formed an 'oh'. "Anyone else would need two avatars?" he breathed. "To have that anchoring?"
"No god can claim two. It would split our own essence. It might splice us."
"You have two," Marc pointed out.
"You are one, Marc Spector. One body."
"Occupied by us… Two souls…" Steven added carefully.
Pride coursed through him, through them. And possessiveness. Khonshu's magic swirled around them, like a tiny storm breaking loose, sweeping over their minds and souls.
"Yes. You are. Equals in one body. Perfectly in sync. That and your psychic strength enabled me to do what no other has tried before; my form can be wherever you are, my avatar. You can support and sustain it because of the root."
"I… oh… wow. I was right!" Steven beamed at Marc. "Cool."
The deity chuckled. "Yes. You were correct. You are the smart one."
Steven grinned wildly.
Marc laughed softly. "You are. You always were." He gazed at Khonshu. "I guess we're in a boatload of trouble now?"
"Nothing Osiris can say or do will threaten us. They abandoned the realm. I claimed it." Khonshu's satisfaction was palpable. "I am still of the Ennead."
"He is a right twit," Steven commented.
"He hates to be corrected. Absolutely abhors to be proven wrong," Khonshu stated darkly. "We also never saw eye to eye."
"That wasn't hard to overhear the first time either," Marc commented wryly. "Really holds a grudge against humankind's so-called desertion of the gods. Then again, holding grudges seems to be a specialty when it comes to gods." He raised both eyebrows as he looked up at the entity.
Steven almost laughed.
"He is a paper pusher," Khonshu muttered with a large spattering of disgust. "Always was. He has no concept of how matter can change, evolve… He is no warrior and never was!"
Steven nodded slowly. "And he presides over the Ennead."
"It was a vote," was the answer. "The least objectionable candidate."
Marc shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Steven understood the gesture and he could read the other man easily.
This least objectionable candidate had created a weapon that hurt avatar and god alike. Maybe for the right reason, but it was still a terrible weapon that killed innocents. It was a dagger, for crying out loud, Steven thought. What did you do with it other than stab or slice people?
"I doubt any of those avatars it was used on survived," Marc muttered angrily when he uttered his thoughts out loud.
Khonshu's grip on the staff tightened and there was almost a creaking sound. "None did. The violent cutting of a bond sends the avatar into fatal shock. Even if a body survives, the mind would not. The loss is too great, no matter whom the avatar served."
"Seth's avatar died?" Steven translated cautiously, voice filled with empathy and regret.
Rags and ribbons flared around the moon god. "I wish she would have. She suffered greatly. Her wounds never healed."
Marc shuddered and screwed his eyes shut. Steven just pulled him close, arms closing around him, feeling the same pain, the same memories.
"Didn't happen to us," he whispered.
Marc echoed the words. The memories were there. They would never forget the past, what they had been through, and they both knew that they had been so, so lucky.
"And it never will!" Khonshu added.
When he looked up, Steven found the deity crouching opposite the two men, watching them, a fierce air around him.
"Are we… you… in any danger?" Steven asked carefully. "Would they attempt to trap you again? For destroying the Unholy? Or the stunt in the Council Chamber?"
Marc's whole form tensed and he felt his muscles coil as if preparing for a fight. There was a gust of wind and Khonshu's presence increased, surrounding them, wrapping their souls in layers of his very self.
"They would not dare!" he snarled. "Osiris wouldn't dare! He cannot touch us!"
"Because your avatar is a soul-bound one." Marc stated.
"Yes!"
"It protects you against them?"
Khonshu was towering over them like a protective bird of prey. "Us," he whispered sharply. "It protects us! They cannot touch us. They cannot banish us with their magic, imprison me in stone. This is my realm!"
"So any dark stuff we find, we take care of it," Marc translated coldly. "Permanently"
Khonshu's agreement echoed in their minds.
"How do we find it?" Steven asked with a mild frown.
Marc stared at him. "What?"
"How do we find that nasty dark magic in Egyptian relics?" he elaborated. "Is there a list? A dark magic detector? You only found out about the bloody dagger when it was… well, when it was stabbed into you!"
He grimaced. "I'm painfully aware of that."
"Not a good method to find more!" Steven argued hotly.
"Not really, no."
"And Osiris said 'an Unholy', not 'the Unholy'," the other man pointed out.
"Like more than one."
Steven nodded. "Place your bets on how many of those dastardly things are pointy or sharp or both!"
"Fuck," Marc muttered.
Khonshu growled. "We will find the others."
"Might take a while."
"We have all the time in the world."
"To piss off Osiris?" Steven asked with a fake innocent smile.
Khonshu chuckled darkly. "A bonus."
When they rose out of the core, no time had passed. Steven was still at his workplace and Marc stepped back to give him the time to pack up his things and head home early. He was still tired and really needed some rest.
"You can go to sleep," Steven suggested as he walked toward the bus stop.
I'm good.
"You're tired, Marc. Khonshu didn't hurt us. But the whole experience was… draining."
Marc sighed. I'm good.
"Liar," he muttered.
Steven stopped at one of his favorite food places. Marc laughed softly in his head when he carried a huge bag of snacks and a vegan chocolate shake into the flat.
"Oh shuddup," he mumbled as he stuffed crisps into his mouth and washed them down with the shake.
That's the single most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life.
Steven crunched on, scowling, but his eyes reflected the same laughter.
