Saif was in the basement again. He wasn't alone. A beautiful boy about his age with white hair and light red eyes was laid out on the altar, illuminated by purple candles. Three other people were in the room as well, two standing on either side of Saif and one in front of the boy. They were dressed in dark robes and moved oddly, like marionettes pulled by strings. The puppet in front of the altar raised its hands above its head, and it was holding a wicked-looking knife as it chanted something - a prayer, most likely.

Saif stared at the boy on the altar, and the boy stared back, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He looked like… "Zorc?" Saif asked into the void.

"He is now," the puppet standing on his right said in Zorc's voice. And the puppet with the knife drove it downwards, stabbing into the boy's chest up to the hilt.

The boy choked on blood as it pooled in his mouth and dribbled down his chin and cheek. The tears fell freely now, streaking through the blood, but there was no fear in his face; his eyes remained clear with saddened acceptance. "There's nothing you can do," he gasped, still staring directly at Saif. "It's okay."

Saif woke with a start, his breath catching in his throat. His face was pressed against a pale chest that rose and fell steadily, and something leathery was wrapped around his body, putting up no resistance as he carefully untangled himself and pushed away.

He was on his bed, and Zorc was fast asleep in front of him. He'd been wrapped up in its wings, and it looked at peace, nothing at all like the dying boy from his dream. Saif carefully got up to get dressed, forcing himself to ignore Zorc as it continued its blissful slumber. What the hell had that dream been? A memory? Just some strange vision? The way the boy had stared at him with those wide eyes haunted his mind as he pulled on some khakis.

His phone's alarm started to chirp on the nightstand, and Saif froze as Zorc snorted and rolled over, drawing an arm over its eyes. "That… is very annoying," it grumbled, pulling its arm back to blink up at Saif. "You're awake early."

"I had a weird dream," Saif said, buckling his belt before reaching for his phone. "So, hey, when you said that body was 'gifted' to you, you really meant 'sacrificed', right?"

Zorc sat up on its elbows. "What?"

"I saw what your cult did to him."

Zorc stared for a second before sighing. "Oh. Probably because of the bond. Listen, sacrifice, gift… it's all a matter of perspective."

"Do you even know who he was?"

"A tourist, probably - I dunno, my cult found him. His blood was worthy, and they wanted to give me a foothold in the physical plane, so they used him as a vessel."

'Grab tourists,' Zorc's voice echoed in Saif's head. 'They're easy… too much effort for the cops to dig too deeply.' It stirred some feelings, ugly and familiar, in the back of his head. He felt sick, his heart starting to pound in his ears, and turned away with a disgusted noise. "You don't even care."

"Ishtar," Zorc said, somewhat exasperated. It had the nerve to be annoyed by this whole thing. "It comes with the territory. If it makes you feel better, I didn't ask them to give me this body."

"You sure as shit didn't stop them from doing it." Saif dropped his head into a hand, squeezing his eyes shut and forcing his thoughts back, back to the very recesses of his mind. It wasn't often that he needed to switch out, but what he'd just seen and the way Zorc was confirming it was too much to handle right now. "Go to hell."

Marik stumbled slightly as he woke up, and behind him, Zorc said, "Wow. It bugs you that much, huh?"

"Hmm?" Marik asked dumbly as he turned. "Uh… sorry, I just got here."

Zorc tilted its head, staring at him for a second. "Oh. The host? Never mind, then."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes. We were having a minor disagreement. Nothing to worry about." Zorc sat up and stretched with a groan of effort. "So. What's on the agenda today, host?" It paused at the pointed look Marik gave it and corrected, "Marik?"

"Thank you. Well… we're up early, so I can make some breakfast. I don't think I can make anything with meat before we need to leave, though."

Zorc waved its hand. "I'll be alright until later. That thing you got for me the other day was good."

"Shawarma? They do one with lamb, too." Zorc's expression brightened in excitement, and Marik couldn't help but be a little charmed. All things considered, it seemed to be adjusting to their lives pretty well. But as Zorc took some time to brush its hair and preen in the bathroom, Marik couldn't help but wonder about what had happened before he'd woken up. Saif usually only switched if he'd felt danger had passed or he wanted to give Marik some time fronting, and he always tried to wait until they'd gone to sleep. But when they'd switched this morning, Marik could feel that Saif had been distressed about something.

He frowned to himself, taking his empty dishes to the sink. He had a feeling Zorc was downplaying their 'disagreement', but maybe it was best to wait until after work to talk it out.

Zorc attached itself to Marik's back again and they headed out the door for what ended up being a short day. Marik got overconfident and lifted something a little too heavy, which extended his injured shoulder past its limits and made him nearly collapse in pain. His boss let him take some painkillers from the first aid kit and ordered him to go home and get some more rest. "Your arm's no good if it falls off," he told Marik, patting his good shoulder.

Marik sighed, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he headed home. He wasn't at work long enough to get a lunch break, but he figured they could stop and get something on the way. The streets were pretty empty this time of day, so he asked, "Zorc? What were you and Saif arguing about?"

He felt Zorc slither up his back, sending an uncomfortable shiver down his spine, and it said in his ear, "Like I said, nothing to worry about."

"Yeah, see, here's the thing," Marik said with a frown, stepping off into an alley to lean against a wall and pretend to scroll through his phone. "I can't remember what happens when he's fronting, but I can catch on to certain feelings. And he was pretty upset. For him to be upset enough to switch out means that it is something to worry about."

Zorc sighed. "Fine. He fell asleep on me last night and saw something he shouldn't have. Probably because of our bond."

"Fell asleep -" Marik stopped. Out of everything Zorc had just said, that wasn't the important part. So instead, Marik asked, "What'd he see?"

"He… saw how I obtained this form. A sacrifice made by my cult about twenty years ago."

Marik's eyebrows rose, looking up at the opposite wall of the alley as the gravity of Zorc's words settled on him. "So… someone died for you to look like that?"

"Yes. The sw - Saif didn't appreciate that I framed it as a 'gift'. And he didn't seem to appreciate that I don't know the details of who the sacrifice was, nor do I care to learn."

Marik was silent for a long moment. "I see. Okay. I get it now."

"If it helps, I'll tell you what I told him: I didn't ask for this sacrifice. They wanted to give me a stronger bond to the physical plane."

"It doesn't, really, but that's not the problem." Marik took a deep breath. "Saif used to be the same way." He glanced up at the sky, the crisscross of fire escapes and laundry lines cutting through the intense, cloudless blue. "When I asked him to protect me, he tried to protect me from everyone. And he thought the best way to protect me was to get physical. He'd hurt anyone who got too close; he didn't care who they were, and he didn't care to learn."

Zorc fell silent at hearing its own words used against it before musing, "So his anger is not at my circumstances. It's at my behavior regarding it."

Marik sighed, resting his head against the bricks. "It probably just… reminded him of how he used to be."

They were quiet, listening to the sounds of a city around them - cars, the chatter of people walking down the street, the sounds of televisions and radios, and calls to prayer echoing through the air. "You're just as much his protector as he is yours," Zorc said finally.

"Maybe," Marik mused, smiling to himself sadly. "I'm better at the emotional stuff, anyway."

Zorc paused for a second and asked, "When we first discussed how this would work, I told him that human bodies keep me satiated, and he said that he would not kill anymore people than he already had. I know of the man in the alley -"

"It's better if he tells you," Marik interrupted gently. "He deserves to be able to explain himself."

"…Fair enough. Let's get going, I'm starving."

Marik nodded and pushed away from the wall, but movement from the opposite end of the alley caught his attention. A man, dressed in plain robes and a head covering, was staring down at him. "Hello?" Marik called out cautiously, standing his ground. "Can I help you?"

"No," the man said, stepping towards him. "But I can help you. The Serpent has attached itself to you. Let me cleanse you of its presence."

"Marik." Zorc hissed into his ear, and it sounded panicked. "We need to go."

Before Marik could ask why, the man stopped mere feet away from him. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

"Thank you," Marik said, putting his hands up defensively. "I'm taking care of it. No need to concern yourself."

The man watched him for a long moment, his eyes becoming saddened. "…You are bound. Aren't you?"

"Y-yeah, but like I said, we're taking care of it," Marik stammered as he backed away. "We're trying to unbind it!"

The man shook his head slowly. "Unbinding a spirit this strong from yourself is impossible." He spread his arms, eyes glistening as his chest started to glow with a yellow light. "I'm sorry."

"Marik! Run!" Zorc screamed in his ear, and Marik scrambled back onto the street just as a bolt of lightning erupted out of the alley behind him. The few pedestrians on the street jumped back, crying out in surprise and shock as Marik booked it down the street.

His heart was pounding in his ears as he ran, with no idea of where he was going. "What do I do?" he gasped, slowing to a stop at an intersection.

"Marik, listen very carefully," Zorc said, desperately trying to sound in control despite the panic in its voice. "I'm not strong enough to fight that thing like this. Get me to my shrine, and I might be able to fight back."

"Which way?"

"Go… go left." Marik obeyed, catching a glimpse of the man from around corners and through other alleys as he ran. "Of course we get found by fucking Osiris!"

"Osiris?!"

"Never mind that, keep going! This alley to the right - go in the first door on the left! Watch the stairs!" Marik had no choice. He ducked into the doorway and carefully made his way down the stairs, stopping short as he entered the room at the bottom. It was impossibly dark inside, so he turned on his flashlight, his breath catching at the sight of a massive, pitch-black shrine on the opposite wall. "I need you to trust me," Zorc said as it detached itself from his back, sliding down his arm to become corporeal again. "I just need a few drops of your blood on the altar. That should give me a boost."

"Blood of the worthy," Marik said, partly in remembrance and party reading the bloodied words on the wall above the shrine. "Is that really Osiris? The god of the dead?"

"Yes. It's not unheard of for gods to willingly bind themselves to devout followers. I just personally never saw need to."

Marik approached the altar, grabbing the knife that had rested on the surface and staring down at it thoughtfully. "He called you the Serpent."

"The Serpent From The Nile," Zorc affirmed, keeping its eyes on the door. "The World-Encircler, Lord of Chaos, yes. Apep for short. But I haven't used that name in a long time."

Marik grimaced. "We're bound to the Lord of Chaos. Fantastic." Regardless, he cut open his thumb just enough to bleed and held his hand over the altar.

Zorc inhaled sharply as blood dropped onto the stone, flexing its claws. "Damn. It's not enough. But it's better than nothing." Marik dropped the knife and grabbed his phone again, frantically typing a text to Ishizu and Rishid. 'I'm in trouble,' he typed. 'Track my phone. Please hurry!'

Just as he hit 'send', the door to the room opened, and the man stood in the entryway. His cheeks had dark streaks on them from where tears had streamed through the kohl lining his eyes. "I take no pleasure in this," he said, his chest glowing again as electricity crackled around him. "But Apep cannot remain in this world."

Zorc snarled and lunged, claws extended, only to be intercepted by a shape made of lightning that tackled it to the floor - Osiris. Marik cried out, falling to his knees as every hair on his arms stood up straight from the painful crackling of electricity threatening to crawl under his skin. Zorc swung its tail up at Osiris, its shape vaguely humanoid but otherwise impossible to determine, but it jolted Zorc again, sending both it and Marik reeling.

"Such is my duty," the man said mournfully, staring down at Zorc as it struggled on the floor. Osiris started to flare with energy, surely a killing blow from up close. Marik summoned all of his strength to stumble to his feet and charge at the man with a scream. The man clearly hadn't expected it as he took the hit, falling to the floor with a grunt.

Osiris looked back, allowing Zorc to claw at its face and push it off. Deep gouges appeared on the man's face where Zorc hit Osiris, and the man cried out in pain, pushing Marik away to scramble to his feet. Marik skidded across the floor, sitting upright just in time to watch Zorc charge the man and bury its claws in his chest.

The man made a choked, gurgling sound, blood dribbling from his mouth as he stared at Zorc, eyes wide. For a long moment, all was still, Osiris floating mid-air and sparking erratically. Zorc turned to look at it and said, "You picked a good host, Osiris." It turned back to the man, arm flexing as it grasped at something in the man's chest. "The Field of Reeds awaits you, brave one." Zorc gripped his shoulder with its free hand and, with the other, tore out a red, pulsing thing, illuminated by the flickers of Osiris before it faded into nothing with an audible 'zap!'.

Marik knew what was in Zorc's hand, but he couldn't comprehend it. The corners of his vision went dark, and his arms gave out, sending him to the ground as the world faded into darkness.

Zorc turned to look at Marik upon hearing him hit the floor. "Hm. Squeamish," it commented to itself, shaking its head. It was probably for the best, honestly. It let the man go, leaving his body to slide down the wall, and stared at the still-hot heart giving its final, futile beats in its hand. It knew what to do next. Zorc brought the heart to its lips, letting the taste of blood fill its mouth as it bit down, the lean meat easily giving way to its jaws. The slight crackle of ozone danced along its tongue, and its pupils expanded, forming wide, black circles that nearly overtook the sea of red they sat on. It had been too long.

Bloodlust took over from there, its teeth ripping through cardiac muscle, its claws tearing further into the man's body to pull out his liver and devour that, too, and then one of his lungs for good measure. The only reason it didn't eat the other one was that it was thoroughly satiated after the first, licking the blood off of its claws and feeling the power of a god-bound heart start to course through its veins. It was so much stronger now, revitalized with the remnants of Osiris' energy, and it summoned a heatless flame to incinerate the man's remains with a satisfied sigh.

Only then did it turn back to Marik, licking its lips. Yes, it was for the best he hadn't been awake for this part - no need for him to see just how a god feasted. A buzzing sound came from Marik's pocket, and Zorc gingerly pulled it out, looking at the screen to see unread messages pop up. 'I'm on my way', the screen said under the name Ishizu. 'Where are you?'

Zorc sighed and glanced back down at Marik. "Oh, Ishtar. Whatever am I going to do with you?"