Chapter Text
A while back, Gabriel went to see the Alraunes. He had his first venture where he actually told someone his name, even though it seemed to confuse Frenchie much more than it reassured him as he intended. He needed someone to act as an in between for the job anyways, so the man showing up on his doorstep was a strike of good fortune.
Doctor Marlene Alraune was one of the only individuals in Chicago who specialized in Egyptian Mythology as her area of study. Her wife, a former S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent, was someone who could explain the intricacies of S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters. Visiting them was, in a way, striking two birds with one stone.
When he pulled Marlene aside, he was hoping she wouldn’t recognize the body as Marc’s, and just go along with it. This was not the case. Instead, she recognized him for who he was: an avatar, brought back from the death she witnessed to protect them.
And she told him about a very unsettling dream of Lord Osiris asking the same.
Rothschild had the voice in his head for an entire day before it was begging him to go grave robbing. Something about “tying up loose ends”? It specifically wanted to visit the tomb of Randall Spector.
It was delighted to hear of his cremation.
WONDERFUL, WONDERFUL! The voice chuckled. Its tone was so light it was almost childish, even though Rothschild could recognize a light Appalachian accent mixed somewhere in there. THAT MAKES OUR JOB SO MUCH EASIER.
“How?” He whispered, hunching his shoulders to look smaller. Rothschild was, admittedly, not very good at picking locks. A stiff breeze gusted past him, tugging at his jacket and directing him toward a cracked window. “Oh. Thank you.”
YOUR WELCOME.
“How did you—”
DETAILS! The unsettling apparition curled its claws around his elbow, guiding him toward the window. He obeyed the instructions as he listened for an explanation. LOOK, IF RANDALL SPECTOR WAS AN INTACT BODY, LORD OSIRIS COULD DO WHATEVER HE WANTS WITH HIM. WE’D HAVE TO DIG UP THE GRAVE, CHECK THE CASKET, PUT IT BACK LIKE IT WASN’T THERE, HOPE NO ONE NOTICED THE MISSING GRASS… The deity made a dismissive noise. THIS WAY WE JUST FIND THE ASHES, MAKE SURE THEY’RE ASHES, AND BOOM, ALL DONE.
“And what if they’re someone else’s ashes replacing it?”
WELL AREN’T YOU A SMART COOKIE! Long nails scraped his skull as his hair was tousled. I KNEW I PICKED THE RIGHT GUY FOR THE JOB.
“So are you going to answer the question or—”
IN DUE TIME. Rothschild was surprised to find the window was into the actual room, not a hallway that he had to navigate. Right there, the big storage of ashes. If he hadn’t spent enough time in these sorts of places on previous investigations, he’d imagine them all lined up in big urns on strange series of fireplaces. Instead, it was just packages, like boxes of flour, stacked on wooden pallets. Randall didn’t have a family that wanted his remains so they’d just been stored here until they ran out of room. Rothschild spent several minutes sorting through the packages until he found the right one.
“Now what?”
OPEN IT.
“I’d…really rather not.”
He felt a strong, serpentine limb curling around his ankle, ascending upward in writhing coils as it wrapped his leg. It only took a few seconds for him to give in, begrudgingly fishing a pocket knife out of his jacket to rudely stab into the wrapping. The deity gripped his shoulders with its claws as it leaned forward, poking toward the ashes with its long snout. It inhaled deeply, almost hungrily.
YES. THAT IS RANDALL SPECTOR.
“So he’s dead?”
YES. AND NOW THAT WE KNOW THAT FOR SURE, WE CAN MOVE TO ELIMINATE THE MOON KNIGHT WITHOUT DISTRACTIONS.
“And how do we do that?”
WE FIND ALLIES, AND WE GET RID OF HIS.
LET’S GET THIS OVER WITH.
This was the first time Khonshu was in their headspace, and given his reaction to everything about it, probably the last. He had attempted to dress nicely for the occasion (or at least under the system’s version of “nice”), wearing a suit gray as the moon’s unforgiving surface. He had somehow fit his birdlike talons into black shoes, and in an attempt to look more inviting, put gloves over his skeletal hands. He had a golden bolo tie looped around his neck.
~You look like a demon Colonel Sanders.~
SILENCE, WHELP.
(Hey!) Gabriel snapped, holding up two fingers in a mock preparation to flick Khonshu’s beak. (Don’t talk to Marc that way.) Khonshu snapped his head to look at Gabriel, surprised he was talking back, but complied.
VERY WELL. EVERYONE KNOWS HOW THIS WORKS. He waved his hands in a circular motion, summoning a stylus and clay tablet. ON MY END, EACH OF YOU WILL BECOME AN AVATAR OF KHONSHU, A MOON KNIGHT TO SERVE ME. IN EXCHANGE, THERE IS ONE FAVOR I WILL GRANT TO EACH OF YOU.
Khonshu looked to Marc, standing with his hands in his pockets and gaze directed at the nonexistent floor. MARC SPECTOR, YOUR FAVOR WAS ANOTHER CHANCE AT LIFE. I SAVED YOUR SOUL FROM JUDGMENT AGAINST A FEATHER OF MAAT AND DEVOURING BY AMMIT. YOUR END OF THE DEAL HAS BEEN FULFILLED. THAT LEAVES YOU FREE TO SERVE AS THE PATHFINDER.
He then turned to glare at Gabriel, who was still too close to him for comfort, especially with him just standing at his right with his gaze to the group and not kneeling with his head down like he was supposed to. THE DEFEN—AH, GABRIEL…ESKANDER. YOUR FAVOR IS COMPLETE SEVERANCE FROM ME, CORRECT?
(Yes.)
BUT. Khonshu shifted from one foot to the other. YOU CANNOT SERVE IN A SYSTEM OF AVATARS WITH SEVERANCE FROM YOUR GOD.
(Severance from you is not being your son.) Gabriel forced eye contact even as Khonshu tried to just stare directly ahead. (You do not have control over me. I am relieved of my duties as a guardian to the other avatars and will not be blamed for events out of my control. You will not separate me from the other avatars of Khonshu. If I am separated, it is a part of our deal that you will use your power to reunite us.)
THAT IS…QUITE THE LENGTHY BARGAIN.
(I have killed avatars. I would prefer not to kill gods.)
AND AFTER EVERYTHING YOU WENT THROUGH, YOU STILL HAVE MUCH TO LEARN. Khonshu scratched something into the tablet, unintelligible to anyone else. BUT VERY WELL. YOU ARE FREE TO SERVE AS THE DEFENDER OF THE TRAVELERS AT NIGHT…WITHIN YOUR POWER AND ABILITY.
JAKE LOCKLEY?
[If avatars outside of us are intending harm, I want to know.]
Khonshu paused, stylus poised over the tablet. I NEED MORE OF A…DESCRIPTION THAN THAT.
[I want to know if there are avatars in Chicago. Now, or ever.]
Khonshu tilted his head this way then that, the glowing strings under his skull intentionally lengthening and slacking so he can move freely before tightening back up again. WHEN MAKING A DEAL YOU NEED TO BE SPECIFIC SO YOU AREN’T TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF. ASKING FOR SOMETHING THAT…BROAD CAN ALSO MAKE THE POWER VERY GREAT, AND THE BIGGER THE POWER, THE MORE I CONTROL YOU.
[Sounds disadvantageous to tell me that.]
Khonshu pointed with the butt of his stylus at Gabriel, who was giving a warning glare harsh enough to make a statue crumble. HIS LAST DUTY AS YOUR GUARDIAN IS TO MAKE SURE I DON’T GET MY WAY.
(My last duty as guardian is to make sure you don’t get fucked over by a god.) Gabriel corrected cooly, then turned to Jake without reacting to Khonshu’s huff. (But yes, he is being factually correct. If there aren’t specific parameters, he can’t help that much. He literally will have too much power over you, and that can’t be stopped or avoided with vague wording. Since neither of you can change the terms of the deal, you would be a puppet until your death. There needs to be a drawback.)
Jake tipped back and forth on his heels, thinking it over. [I want something that can be used to identify someone as the avatar of an Egyptian deity, and who they are the avatar of.]
NOT A…SENSING?
[It needs a drawback, right? So the drawback is that it’s an object that only I can use, but is still outside of my body.]
THAT…CAN WORK. Khonshu snapped his fingers, then allowed a golden charm to fall into his palm. When he held it up, it was an ankh about the length of an index finger. A COPY OF THIS WILL BE IN YOUR POCKET WHEN YOU WAKE. WHEN AN AVATAR IS NEAR, IT WILL GLOW AND GROW WARM. TOUCH IT AND YOU WILL INNATELY KNOW WHOSE AVATAR IT IS. WHEN ANYONE ELSE IS IN CONTROL OF THE BODY, HOWEVER, IT WILL BE BLACK AND UNUSABLE. I WOULD RECOMMEND KEEPING IT ON YOUR PERSON AT ALL TIMES. YOU ARE FREE TO SERVE AS THE TRAVELER. With that, he carved into the tablet and turned to Steven.
YOUR REQUEST, STEVEN GRANT?
/I have a clarifying question before I make mine.\
VERY WELL.
/When Gabriel took control those times, we could not experience anything. His existence was incomprehensible, along with all knowledge that he was there whenever someone tried to tell us. Was that your doing?\
YES.
/Okay then.\ Steven inhaled, like he knew his next words were going to cause a stir. /I wish for privacy. With the permission of others in the headspace, we are able to walk freely without the other avatars of Khonshu knowing what we are doing. We can intentionally stop the free flow of information between us if we so choose.\
[Why?] Jake asked, furrowing his brow. [Why the hell would we need that?]
/Even though what happened wasn’t okay…there was something oddly nice about being able to not have to deal with what’s going on outside for a bit. We literally never sleep, so we never get to just turn our brains off like everyone else. It would also help so we could just focus on our own shit when we need to.\
Marc bit his lip with a worried expression, but nodded in agreement. Gabriel shrugged, refusing to comment. Jake sighed. [Okay, fine.]
Khonshu sketched that in. YOU ARE FREE TO SERVE AS THE EMBRACER. He then turned the tablet around. MARC SPECTOR HAS SIGNED BEFORE, NOW YOU ALL MUST AS WELL. He offered the stylus.
Gabriel looked over the written agreement carefully before signing.
Steven glanced at each friend for reassurance before writing his name.
Jake quickly scratched in his signature before he could think twice.
With that, Khonshu made the tablet disappear in a puff.
/Welcome to the headspace, bird dad!\
I WOULD RATHER STOP EXISTING. Khonshu clasped his hands behind his back. I WILL NOT BE JOINING YOU IN THIS STRANGENESS, I AM ONLY ESTABLISHING A…LINE FOR YOU TO SPEAK TO ME IF YOU NEED. He waved behind him at a brand new rotary telephone, white and positioned on a pillar of sandstone. Instead of numbers, the ticker slid through pictures of the different phases of the moon. The cord was a single golden strand, humming with the same energy as Khonshu’s vocal cords and Jake’s new ankh.
~Is this how all avatars and deities communicate?~ Marc asked, inspecting the phone without actually touching it.
MOST DEITIES HANG AROUND IN THE EDGES OF THE AVATAR’S VISION TELLING THEM WHAT TO DO. WE CAN STAY OUT OF THE HEAD IF SPECIFICALLY ASKED IN THE DEAL, OR IF WE JUST DON’T FEEL LIKE IT. I DO NOT FEEL LIKE IT. He snapped his fingers, removing his suit for his ceremonial garb and summoning his staff again. GOODBYE. Khonshu tapped the floor, somehow making it sandy so he could drop out of the headspace with one step.
/That went better than expected!\
[Eh.]
When Marc woke up, he had a killer crick in the neck. He stretched, popping his back and climbing out of the cross legged position, before remembering what they were doing before retreating to the headspace.
“Reese? Are you alright?” He called, searching the apartment with his eyes for the student.
“In here!”
Marc leaned around the doorway to find Reese scratching the cat behind her ears, Miss Maloney purring as she immediately flopped onto her back and showed her sensitive belly. He felt a tinge of sadness when looking at his brother’s former pet, then pushed it aside as he tapped his fingers against the doorframe. “Good. How about I get you something to drink, then you can train with Jake?”
“It’s a Jake Day?”
“It’s a Jake Day.” And Jake Days meant that white tea was on the menu. Reese was remarkably amicable to pretty much anything they were given to eat or drink. They even tried to give Steven an energy drink at one point, which Marc was quick to scold them over the next day as the worst idea they could’ve possibly had.
However, they split up their trainings with Reese into different days where different people were in control. Even though Reese was technically under Gabriel’s wing, Gabriel’s domain was also whenever they went out on patrol or were on the job. After negotiating between the alters, it was decided that to minimize the time when Reese could be hurt, they would mostly keep the student in doors, learning how everything works and training in seclusion. They were only allowed out on patrol with Gabriel when it was almost guaranteed to be a quiet night, even though they wouldn’t know that.
As he waited for the water to boil at the stove, Reese slid in a bar stool at the kitchen island. “None of you drink coffee, huh?”
“Don’t need to.”
“Right. With the no sleeping thing.” Reese drummed their fingers on the island. “That must be nice, never getting tired.”
Marc turned to grab cups out of the cabinet above the stove, trying to find Jake’s mug. “Well, you probably had something like it when you were a vampire.”
“Maybe I should ask Osiris to make me a vampire again. Then I won’t sleep either.”
Marc froze, the mug nearly slipping out of his hand.
“Marc?”
They were joking. They were joking. They had to be joking.
“Marc, you good? Mister Spector?”
He could see Reese leaning forward out of the corner of his eye, tilting their head with concern. “Is someone else around right now? Gabriel? Steven?”
“No.” He swallowed, steadying his hand as he put the cup down on the kitchen island a little too hard. “Just Marc.”
“Did I…say something wrong?”
“No. Well.” Marc turned the cup around in his hands a few times, a ceramic lime mug with ribbed edges like waves. “You shouldn’t—I wouldn’t talk to Osiris. Ever.”
“That’s not a thing I can do though.” Reese grabbed the other mug, a cheap black one with a bull embossed on it. “Is it?”
“It is.”
Reese’s dark eyes widened. Marc bobbed his head, holding Jake’s cup in his hands. “If you had any sort of connection to a god previously, without becoming their avatar, you can be one. That presence never leaves.”
“Really?”
“Of course.” Marc’s throat felt dry no matter how many times he swallowed. “That’s what happened to me.”
“So I can just…strike that deal? At any time?”
“Don’t. Ever.”
“But…if you’re the avatar of Khonshu because you died, then wouldn’t it be good to keep that option—”
Marc suddenly grasped their wrist in a firm hand. He fought to keep his voice from shaking. “Reese Sullivan, I need you to listen to me. I am an avatar of Khonshu. The deal I made was to, and I quote, ‘stop my final rest’. That means I will never sleep again, and for all I know, I may never die again. That is a curse. So if the god of healing and protection cursed someone who was sick and dying, what do you think a god of death will do to someone perfectly healthy?”
Reese was frozen in shock, eyes too wide, too innocent to what they had actually considered. Marc released them, retreating back to the other side of the island.
“Do not. Contact Osiris. Ever.”
Reese stared at the table, unsure of what else to say.
“Yes sir.”
Now there were eight avatars that Gabriel brutally slaughtered in the Palace of Osiris. Osiris himself didn’t have an avatar at the time, with Randall being dead and the former king not in a hurry to replace him. So what if he was rejected by Marlene Alraune? He wasn’t in a rush.
That rush hastened when an avatar of Khonshu desecrated the foundation of his kingdom with the blood of the god given. Now, Osiris had a desperate need to get anyone to serve him. He would strike any deal, give any power, if someone would just let him. Hopefully someone he could bend to his will, someone to take advantage of.
Ultimately, that is what a bond between a god and avatar is: an immortal taking advantage of a mortal. It’s a child being approached by a stranger in a long coat, asking if they want to go for a ride. It’s someone being told to sign a paper without reading the fine print.
It’s a butcher leading a lamb to the slaughter.
So now there were nine gods, nine butchers looking for lambs. They all set their eyes on Chicago, either to prey upon a citizen or to encourage someone else to travel across land and sea toward the Windy City. Some knew, deep down, that they shouldn’t seek revenge. Khonshu has proven how willing he is to just send a scythe to cut the crop, so perhaps it would be better to stay on his good side. Find an ally to give power to, and extend an olive branch of alignment.
Others would rather send a beast to rip his avatars to shreds for daring to go against the natural order.
Someone that they felt worthy to hunt by night.