Content warnings: uncensored cussing; canonical events; canon-typical and story-typical violence and injuries;
Media: Moon Knight Season 1 Episode 6 "Gods and Monsters"
Word count: 4,107
Flying was… breathtaking.
Once they'd gotten out of the pyramid, slicing through rubble and shielding themselves from more of it with their armored wings, they had merely needed to obtain enough altitude and then throw themselves into the air with their arms spread. It was all physics and aerodynamics from there, and despite their weight and the small size of their wings, the Avatars of Taweret found themselves flying through the Cairo sky, under the Moon and stars.
"I see purple!" Layla called. She shifted her arms, altering her course, and Sarah followed her, hoping it was Harrow.
They came to land on the rooftop of a random building along one of the streets. Harrow was easily recognizable, his grape-clad form (apparently he didn't get any costume upgrades, what a shame) standing over someone on the ground, bright purple light bursting forth from the head of the empowered staff he held as he prepared to wield it mercilessly against the figure at his feet.
A familiar figure- a man, clad in a grey cloak and bandage-like suit, with glowing eyes and a crescent on his hood and chest.
Moon Knight.
Marc. Steven.
Sarah's heart jumped, throat constricting, but Layla acted first, jumping into the air from the edge of the rooftop. Her wings carried her, and she soared in an arc directly toward Harrow, colliding with him feetfirst so hard he went flying away as Layla easily landed on her feet. Sarah cheered, holding up two fingers in Harrow's direction as she stepped forward, mentally calculating how to fly down to her friends without kicking Layla away.
All logical calculations disappeared as Harrow got to his feet. Sarah threw herself off the roof as fast as she could, arms and wings close to her side as she flew like a missile on an intercept course between Harrow and Layla. Half a second before she reached her target, she brought her legs forward and threw her arms up in front of herself, crossing her wings into a shield before her feet had even hit the ground. The violet beam struck her with a greater force than she'd expected, but her armor reflected it back at its wielder, and Harrow was thrown even further backward with a pained cry.
Sarah relaxed infinitesimally, and her wings retracted as she lowered her arms. She swiveled on the spot to see Marc- now maskless- getting to his feet. "Layla." He uttered in adoration and relief, rushing to meet her halfway.
"Marc." Her voice mirrored his as they hugged each other tightly. Sarah felt a bit like an outsider, but her relief to find at least Marc alive overpowered her awkwardness.
"Oh, baby." He drew back just a little, holding Layla's face in his hands like she was the most precious thing in the world (to be fair, she probably was to him). "Thank God you're okay."
"How'd- How'd you get back?" Laya asked what was on Sarah's mind.
Before he could answer, his garb shifted in a flash of bandages into the odd three-piece suit Steven had worn, again sans mask. "Wow, you look amazing! What are you wearing?" Steven questioned.
"Wait, you're both back?" Sarah blurted. "And can shift back and forth without mirrors?"
Steven and Layla's heads swiveled to look at her. "It's a bloody long story, love. Tell you all about it later- come here."
Sarah rushed forward, into his embrace without hesitation. It was like coming home. "I missed you so damn much." She said into his shoulder, tears blooming in her eyes. "Nope, nope, I'll cry later." She reluctantly pulled away from him. "Layla and I are fine, we're Taweret's temporary Avatars. The four of us are gonna have a big chat later, though- don't think you're getting out of that."
"Wouldn't dream of it." He replied honestly.
"Uh-oh." Layla spoke, and Sarah and Steven turned their gazes to see Harrow standing once more a mass of his followers around him and wielding weapons.
"I'm really jazzed about showing you two these new skillsets we have." Steven said excitedly.
"Alright. Show us what you got." Layla replied as Sarah stepped out of Steven's way.
"Yeah?"
"Hell yeah." Sarah confirmed, shooting him a supportive smile.
His mask- his mask, Steven's, the one with the ugly seam down the front like a crack- reformed over his face, eyes glowing once more, and he sprinted forward. Layla and Sarah both took a short running leap, wings bursting from their hiding places once more and allowing them to glide either side of Steven. Sarah lost track of them as she spread her wings wide, plowing through several cultists and knocking them down. Landing once more, she caught sight of Steven again as he engaged several others in physical combat, both with fighting moves and what appeared to be small batons.
"Sarah, we have swords!" Layla called, voice tinged with giddy excitement.
Sarah frowned in confusion, attempting to mentally summon them. Her wings vanished once more, but the largest primary feather of each slid into its corresponding hand, morphing into one-edged swords of medium length. She got back to running, once again on Steven's side opposite Layla as she fought her way through the cultists. Becker and Abby's training came back to her as she tried to primarily use blunt force to disarm her opponents, doing her best to only hit with her swords. She was a blur of swinging, twisting movement, her ebony braids flying out around her in tandem.
A beam of amethyst was narrowly dodged by Steven, and she managed to bring her gaze to him once more in time to watch him chuck a baton toward Harrow, who deflected it. Yet in the few moments that it ricocheted, Steven flawlessly switched back into Marc, his jacket shrinking down and Marc's magnificent cape flowing out of apparently nowhere, the hood of it forming over his head half a second before his hand flung out and caught the baton, which he immediately struck a nearby cultist down with.
There was a moment of pause, and all three of them looked to Harrow, who stood calmly a few meters away. "I was gonna shove that scarab up your arse, but I think I'm gonna use a sword now." Sarah spat. She glanced toward Layla, who gave her a brief nod.
The trio bolted for Harrow, and as a cultist between them and him raised his gun, Sarah begrudgingly slashed at him, not so much as slowing down as he crumpled to the ground. Her eyes were on the target- Arthur Harrow.
She reached him first, somehow, and greeted him with a swing of one sword, which he blocked with his staff. She brough up a leg and delivered a Spartan kick to his stomach, earning a grunt from him. Layla joined them at that moment, spinning through the air and attacking with her own blades. Marc came between the women again, mercifully not in the usual sense, and the three of them rained attacks on Harrow. The bastard somehow had seemingly gained enhanced reflexes, dodging their blows or parrying them with his staff, which he swiped and struck back at them with. The amethystine head came swinging in Sarah's direction, and with it came a surprising sensation- fiery heat and paralyzing cold at the same time. It didn't hit Sarah, but left her feeling very unsettled for a short moment as the feeling faded.
That moment of disorientation cost her, and before she could do any further damage to Harrow, he had shoved Layla away somehow and managed to strike the ground with his staff. A pulsing bubble-like blast of the power within his staff surged outward, blowing all three of them back. Sarah's back impacted the wall of a building and she hit the ground, nauseated even worse than she had been moments before.
The worst was not over. Harrow advanced on her, being the nearest target, and she desperately raised one arm to shield herself as he brought up his staff to strike at her like an overpowered mystical axe. A wing burst into existence, blocking his strike, but the sheer physical force of it drove her arm down. Frantic, she rolled onto her back to free up her other arm, but before she could use both to protect herself, Harrow's foot came down on her stomach in a harsh stomp. A cry escaped her mouth before she could stop it. Stooping, he seized her by the throat, squeezing hard enough to choke her debilitatingly (not that it took much in her state), and hurled her down the street with inhuman strength. She skidded across the ground past Moon Knight, and her unarmored head banged against a vehicle. She watched helplessly with double vision as he targeted Layla next.
But he had barely gotten a single blocked attack in before being tackled by Steven, and the pair vanished from view. Layla whirled around, eyes landing on Sarah, who didn't see the look of horror and concern that flashed across her pretty features upon glimpsing her state. "Are you alright?" She gasped, pulling her sister in arms to her feet. "This shouldn't be happening; Taweret's protection should be doing a better job."
"I asked Taweret to give you more." Sarah confessed, leaning against Layla. "If her power couldn't be given evenly to both of us, I wanted you to have more."
"Stupid girl." Layla chastised, but Sarah could tell it was spoken out of genuine worry. Marc abruptly appeared in the street again, face-to-face with Harrow. Their gazes snapped to the two Avatars, and Layla spoke quickly: "Taweret if you can hear me, share your power with Sarah and I equally."
Before Sarah could object, that same feeling from earlier washed over her again, and her soreness and disorientation ebbed away, vision clearing. "Whoa." She breathed. Nodding briefly at Layla, the pair dashed toward Khonshu and Ammit's Avatars.
Harrow swung his staff, but Layla caught it from behind before he could get very far and shoved him against the wall. Sarah let loose and sent an uncharacteristic punch directly into Harrow's face, feeling the satisfying pop and snap of his nose breaking under her knuckles. Marc came in from the side, his arm combatting Harrow's free one. "Duck!" Layla ordered Sarah, producing one wing and swinging it toward the staff as Marc attacked with a crescent blade. Before Sarah could process it (having done as Layla commanded), Harrow had gotten away from the wall, but Marc and Layla were still on him, and as she joined in the three of them all laid hands on his staff, fighting to pry it from his hands as the four stumbled and slid down the street.
"How the hell are you this strong?" Sarah grunted. "You're too old to be this bloody strong."
"Get into the van! Go inside! Get in!" A man shouted in Arabic close by, and Sarah's gaze moved from the expanding violet glow of the staff to a group of civilians climbing inside a nearby van in horror.
Sure enough, a beam erupted from the crocodilian head of the staff, railing against the van. Screams came from its passengers as it rolled onto its side, and before Sarah could do so, Layla had disengaged from the group and started flying toward it. Reluctant to leave Marc but knowing Layla needed more help, Sarah let go of the staff as well, spreading her wings and kicking off Harrow's knee (a move that was more pettiness than strategy) to intercept the purple beam.
And intercept it she did. Bracing herself, she cut into the beam, using her body and armor to interrupt the constant flow of energy and give Layla an advantage in however she was handling it out of Sarah's field of vision. Sarah landed at the front of the van, wings retracting as she spotted Layla behind the van, hands braced against its roof and further killing its perilous momentum.
"Are you Egyptian superheroes?" A young woman standing a few feet away asked them in awe.
"I am." Layla replied.
"Not exactly." Sarah admitted.
They rushed to tear off one of the van's doors, both of them calling out to the terrified passengers in Arabic. The moment they were all out, the women moved again, immediately being met with the sight of a gun-wielding cultist. Layla, in front of Sarah, deflected his shots with her wings, dealing with him as Sarah knocked unconscious another man with her own wings. A third came at them from another angle, and Sarah somersaulted forward, flinging her wing out to nail him in the groin with feathers of metal.
"You good?" Layla asked.
"I'm fine; we need to get back to Marc." Sarah answered, but before they could do so they were set upon once more.
Half a dozen cultists later, the two women caught sight of Marc being bombarded by violet. "Marc!" Sarah shouted as they ran to intercept, but a moment later one of his crescent blades caught Layla by the wing and pinned her to the undercarriage of the van. Sarah, though missed by the crescent, skidded to a stop, unsure if she should go to Marc's aid or Layla's.
With a shout, Harrow threw Marc to the ground with a blast of amethyst, the last vestiges of which hurtled toward the women. Sarah sidestepped quickly, placing herself in front of Layla and bringing up her wings to shield herself. The blast struck, but the assault quickly faded, and she lowered them once more.
Marc lay apparently defeated on the broken ground, mask gone as Harrow advanced on him once more. Behind the Avatar, Ammit brought Khonshu to the ground with his own staff. Sarah's heart faltered, lurching in her chest as a pit formed in her stomach. Was this it? Was this the end? Was Ammit about to win and eradicate free will and thought from the world, slaughtering those she deemed unworthy of life?
Sarah was torn. Should she come to Marc's aid and fight Harrow, or throw herself into combat with forces far more powerful than Avatars? The thought of kicking Harrow's ass was appealing, and Marc and Steven were clearly in need of help, but none of the fighting on the ground would matter if Ammit won.
Sarah swallowed hard and made a choice.
She sprinted back to Layla and wrapped her hand around the crescent trapping Layla in place, jerking it out and hurling it toward Harrow with a furious yell. The Avatar briefly lifted his staff to swat it away, then returned to attacking Marc.
"Give me a boost." Sarah instructed, and Layla nodded, crouching down and bracing her wings together like a platform. Sarah quickly climbed up onto them, and after a confirmatory nod, Layla flung her arms upward, launching Sarah into the air. She spread her own wings before gravity could take over again and twisted herself in the air, resolutely flying toward Khonshu and Ammit as machine gunfire erupted on the street once more.
Sarah took her perch on the capstone of the Great Pyramid of Giza. "Oi, weird crocodile lady!" She shouted. The crocodilian deity threw Khonshu to the ground and turned, eyeing Sarah critically.
"And who are you who defies my justice?" Ammit demanded.
"I am Doctor Sarah Page, Egyptologist, Avatar of Taweret." Sarah answered, head held high. "I have crossed worlds and escaped death, and you are not the first monster I have faced." She tilted her head. "Perhaps not even the worst. But even so, I cannot allow you to win."
"Your scales lack balance; you have no place in my world. Your soul must pass on." Ammit told her.
"I honestly don't give a shit if I pass your magic test or not." Sarah replied bluntly. "Of course I'm going to fail the test when I'm judged by unfair and immoral principles. I'm not perfect, and I don't need to be."
"Enough of this drivel." The demon goddess sneered. "Judgement awaits you, child."
She swung at Sarah with Khonshu's staff, but Sarah jumped and took flight before she could be hit. She soared over the crocodilian's head, arcing down behind her in a course toward her throat. With a flick of her wrists, she conjured both her swords, and she twisted herself as she sailed under Ammit's chin. The sharp edges of her weapons sliced the thick flesh of the demoness' throat, but to Sarah's chagrin they seemed to wound about as much as a papercut. With an annoyed growl, Ammit swiped with her own hand (paw?) at Sarah, who narrowly avoided being hit.
She landed at Khonshu's side. "Khonshu? What do I do?"
"You do not have the power to defeat her, little bug." The avian deity rumbled.
"Then help Marc and Steven and Layla, and I'll keep her occupied." Sarah responded through gritted teeth.
Abruptly, Khonshu thrust his hand out, above Sarah's head. The Egyptologist flinched and looked up, seeing Ammit's foot positioned directly above her but blocked by Khonshu's quick thinking. "Thanks, but go. I'll handle her." Sarah reiterated.
She took flight once more, and Khonshu vanished in a whirlwind. She circled above Ammit for a few moments, wondering how best to attack. Deciding to be petty, she dove down again, swooping out of reach of Ammit's swatting hands. On her downward pass, she wrapped her hands firmly in the end of the thick braid of hair that hung down Ammit's back, and flew away with all her strength while still holding tight. Ammit yelped as she was unbalanced, and Sarah dropped the hair (even with her Avatar-enhanced strength, it was absurdly heavy and her arms were burning like she'd never felt).
She flew away again, but not fast enough, and moments later Ammit's giant, meaty hand wrapped around her, crushing Taweret's beautifully-crafted wings of armor around Sarah perilously tight. "What is it Khonshu called you? 'Little bug'?" Ammit taunted. "It would only be fitting if I crushed you."
Gasping for breath even though she knew it was futile, Sarah shut her eyes. All she could hope now was that the others would succeed in defeating Ammit and she herself would find peace in the afterlife- preferably with Taweret guiding her- and that she could perhaps be reunited with Professor Nick Cutter. It would be nice to see him again, even beyond the grave.
And then everything changed.
"No." Ammit breathed in disbelief. She threw Sarah aside, and the Avatar's head spun with the rush of oxygen. She threw her sore arms out desperately and the crumpled wings were restored in a moment, catching the air and saving Sarah from a painful death. She swung around to see Ammit's eyes fixed on the ground where she'd left Harrow, Marc, Steven, and Layla. Khonshu rose up and socked Ammit solidly in her protruding face, causing the demon to stagger backward. Taking advantage of the distraction, Sarah headed down to the ground to see what had happened.
She found Marc kneeling on the ground, sans mask, holding Harrow by the collar. The axe-like head of his own staff rested against the latter Avatar's forehead. And then, as if it couldn't get any weirder, Marc's eyes rolled back and he shuddered, and his expression shifted from murder to confusion. Panting, he turned his gaze to Harrow, and he dropped both the man and the staff. He got to his feet. "That wasn't you, was it Steven?" He asked.
He shifted into Steven, who looked equally disturbed. "Not a chance, mate."
A few moments of observing the dead bodies later, he returned to being Marc. "Marc?" Layla questioned warily, as surprised as Sarah as she jogged toward them.
"Yeah?"
"What the hell was that?"
"I blacked out." He admitted, a foreign note of terror in his voice.
"Are there three of you or something?" Sarah asked, coming to a stop. "Because if that wasn't you or Steven…."
She trailed off, and noise from behind them drew their attention. Khonshu had been defeated again and was limp, and Ammit was dragging him away in victory. He evidently wasn't dead, since Marc still wore the Moon Knight armor. Perhaps Harrow's incapacitation had given the demon the strength to overcome the moon god again.
"Get Harrow. We know how to stop Ammit." Layla took control of the situation.
"Allow me." Sarah spoke darkly, moving quickly to grab him before Marc could. She gripped him by his hair and yanked him upright, then fisted his collar and let him drag on the ground, her pace matching Layla's.
Maybe she couldn't shove a scarab or a sword up his behind, but she wasn't going to treat him gently either.
Arriving back in the Chamber of the Gods was a wholly different experience than entering it the first time. Now an Avatar, Sarah could feel the sheer power of the chamber, amplifying what Taweret had placed inside her.
Sarah threw Harrow down onto a slab of stone. "The power of this room will help us bind Ammit to Harrow's body." Layla explained. "Quick, grab my hands so we can start the spell."
Sarah and Marc each took one of Layla's hands, and Sarah focused herself on the power within her, Taweret's presence still felt inside her being. Her body jolted as that presence and power seemed to amplify, and the words that came unbidden to her mind spilled from her lips. They chanted in Ancient Egyptian repetitively as a purple light- not quite the same shade as what came from Harrow's staff and definitely not the same feeling- flowed from her and Marc and Layla's hands, extending outward to penetrate the Ennead statues throughout the chamber and form a ring around Harrow. His body shook and jolted, and from above a swirling purple cloud descended, entering his body through his mouth. Ammit was being caged, and it was better than merely imprisoning her in a stone ushabti.
It was like standing against a powerful gale, dragging a demon goddess's soul out of her form and cramming it into mortal flesh that was tiny and weak in comparison. But the electrifying feeling wasn't frightening, it was elating, and all her weariness and pain melted away as her very soul seemed to lift.
Their chant finished as Ammit was fully caged. "You can never contain me!" Harrow's mouth spat, his voice overlaid by an unfamiliar feminine one that Sarah assumed was Ammit's. "I'll never stop."
Before Sarah could issue a witty retort, that feeling faded from her body, and the three of them found themselves free of that incredible power. "Finish it, and leave neither of them alive." Khonshu commanded, appearing at a much more reasonable height within the chamber.
Looking labored but determined, Marc stepped up onto the stone that Harrow and Ammit's shared body lay on. He jerked a crescent blade from his chest and seized Harrow's shirt, pulling him upward. But even as Marc drew his arm back, coiled like a snake waiting to strike, a punch waiting to be thrown, he hesitated. Sarah watched him shake with wide eyes. "While he lives, so too does she." Khonshu reminded.
"I have to finish this. If not I'll never be free." Marc said, as if convincing himself of that to justify killing an unarmed man.
"Marc!" Layla stayed his hand with a single word. He paused, lowering his arm and turning his gaze to her. "You have a choice. You are free."
"The choice is vengeance!" Khonshu insisted.
"Oi!" Sarah snapped. "I want Harrow dead, believe me, but Marc's conscience and liberty mean more to me than personal vengeance. But he and Ammit need to be stopped or this whole nightmare will begin again."
"We cannot take the chance that Ammit finds a way out. She will kill again." Khonshu pressed.
"Now you sound just like her." Marc muttered lowly. Decisively, he released Harrow. "You want them dead?" He threw the crescent aside. "Do it yourself." He dared the moon god. "Now release us."
Sarah waited with bated breath, watching as Khonshu briefly turned his eyeless gaze to both her and Layla. "As you wish." He conceded, vanishing in dust and smoke.
And as the Moon Knight armor receded from Marc's body, peeling away in scrolling strips of grey, Sarah found herself smiling, optimistic that with the end of his service, all four of them- Marc, Steven, Layla, and herself- would begin a new chapter in their lives, united and with no more secrets.
She would tell them about her past and the ARC, she decided. Family should be honest with each other.
END OF ACT I