#remember our eclipse

The headlights of the wrangler bobbed up and down as it sprang across the northern Sudanese dunes, A Man Without Love playing softly on the radio. It was supposed to be a normal mission – at least, as normal as it could be when you were a bad person being paid to do worse things for the worst people. However, nobody with a properly functioning moral compass becomes a bounty hunter. That's why you all ended up here, wasn't it?

You swallowed the question down with a deep gulp. Sprawled across the back seat of the wrangler, your hands fidgeted nervously with the various weapons on your waistband, a nervous habit you picked up from your time in special operations with Marc. He softly chuckled from the passenger seat, noticing your actions in the reflection of the rearview mirror. This made Bushman – your somewhat pain in the ass colleague, roll his eyes.

"This is why I don't let both of you sit in the back seat." He grumbled.

"Hey!" You exclaimed, kicking the back of the driver's seat. This just made Marc laugh harder.

While the three of you laughed – although Bushman would definitely deny he ever so much as chuckled, you glanced at the rearview mirror, only to see Marc's eyes already trained onto your form. He gave you a soft smile, which you heartfeltly returned. The song faded into the background as the two of you were momentarily lost in each other, hearing nothing but your hearts beating in tune with one another.

"Focus, you two," Bushman glared at the both of you, "Save the lovey-dovey shit for the hotel."

You kicked his seat again.

"Hey, don't anger the driver." He warned, frowning at you in the rearview mirror.

You stuck out your tongue in response.

"And what? You'll crash into a pillowy sand dune? How terrifying." You joked, leaning to lay down across the back seat.

Suddenly, Bushman stopped the car – as close to a sudden stop as he could get considering the terrain, causing you to slide forward. For a moment, you considered he just slammed the brakes to prove a point, however, this was dismissed when he left the car and walked to the trunk.

"Hurry up, assholes!" He scolded, despite the fact that he had barely given you or Marc a warning to leave the vehicle, "Mission site is six hundred yards east." Bushman gestured to a map he had already rolled out in the trunk. Circled in bold, red ink, was a site labeled 'CAMP FOUR' in large letters. He continued as you and Marc prepped your gear, "We're gonna be heading towards a dig site where they've allegedly unearthed an ancient map showing where some old Pharoah is buried." Stated Bushman as he set up the communication equipment.

This piqued your interest. Regularly, the bounty was a living person, not an already dead one. You found this thrilling. Marc, however, had a different take.

"So, what? We get to play Indiana Jones for some rich fuck?" The words rolled off his tongue as his upper lip pulled into a slight snarl. You had to try not to giggle while Bushman smiled mischievously.

The larger man turned to Marc, "Precisely."

"Now, continuing with the details of our mission. The site is run by four archaeologists. There may be a few others, but they're all of no concern. There are two guard stations," Bushman began gesturing to areas on the map again, "One on the southwest end, and one on the north. They should be easy to take out." You and Marc nodded.

Bushman gestured to you, saying your name.

"You'll infiltrate the archaeologist's tent while Marc and I handle the guards. Grab the map, get out. Should be a clean run."

You nodded at Bushman, Marc mirroring your actions.

"Alright then," he continued, "The two of us will go along the southern path, "he gestured to a blue line drawn on the map, "and you'll go along the northern path." Bushman pointed to a purple line on the map. "We will give you a signal when the guards are down. Be ready."

"Affirmative. Will await signal." You responded, the formal wording a once thought forgotten habit from your days with Marc in special operations.

Bushman turned to leave, gesturing for Marc to follow. Before turning to leave, Marc glanced at you. He softly raised his hand to your face, gently caressing your cheek. Resting his forehead upon yours, he exhaled a deep sigh.

"Be safe." He said, barely above a whisper.

"No need to worry." You reassured him, softly smiling before turning to head down your separate paths.

"Hurry up, Spector!" You heard Bushman call from somewhere along his trail.

Chuckling, you continued on.

You waited in position just over the crest of a sand dune, awaiting the signal from Bushman and Marc. The two men were taking their sweet time, as per usual. But it was just supposed to be a few guards, right? Something felt off. Against better judgment, you pushed into the camp without the signal. After easily slipping past the guards, you silently slid under the white tarp wall of the tent.

It was completely dark, except for a lone LED lantern hanging from the central support. Sprawled out through the whole tent were various work areas, littered with papers and artifacts. Finding the map in this mess would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. You began your search anyways, the nagging feeling of something wrong still hanging at the back of your mind.

Suddenly, a light clicked on from the other side of the tent. You panicked, darting for the large desk near the central work area of the tent. Soft footsteps padded toward you, before walking around the desk and to the other side of the tent. You let out a soft breath as the footsteps padded back to their side of the tent, the quiet click of the light turning back off soon following.

You were halfway through a sigh of relief when bullets began tearing through the tent. Screams erupted into your surroundings as you pushed yourself deeper into the kneehole of the metal desk, praying none of the bullets would hit you. Your shuffling under the desk knocked it around considerably, as a drawer slid out of its place while you were rushing to take shelter. While bullets rained around you, an intricately carved, lapis lazuli scarab caught your eye. Without a second thought, you quickly reached out and stuffed it into your boot.

The bullets stopped, and all was still. Even you remained motionless under the desk. Shortly after, Bushman came waltzing in, eyes scanning the tent. You huffed, pulling up from the desk, anger painting your features.

"Bush, you asshole!" You screamed, "You could have killed me!"

The large man looked surprised to see you for a moment, but continued to let out a dark chuckle. "That's what you get for not waiting for the signal, sweetheart "

You just stared at him, lip raised. The thought of what Bushman had just done without so much as batting an eye made you sick to your stomach. You couldn't handle it anymore; the sight of the bullet holes combined with the occasional splatter of blood made bile rise into your throat. You turned to leave, tearing through the already shredded tarp. You stopped, upon noticing, turned back to Bushman.

"Where's Marc?" You asked, accusation littering your tone.

Bushman shrugged, "Said he had a headache. Went back to go sit in the wrangler."

Something still felt off, but you nodded, accepting his answer.

"You find the map?" Said Bushman, gesturing to the area around the two of you.

"Maybe I could have, if someone wasn't trying to turn me into a slice of swiss cheese!" You continued to shout at him, gesturing to the bullet holes dotting your surroundings. Bushman rolled his eyes. You huffed, shaking your head at your colleague.

"Fine. You can find the map then, I'll be outside."

Bushman looked like he was going to stop you, fingers twitching at his sides. However, once it was clear you were exiting on the side you came in, away from the camp, he seemed to calm.

The walk back to the wrangler was quiet. About halfway through, Bushman snuck up on you.

"Jesus man, did nobody ever tell you to not sneak up on people when they're walking alone at night?" You scolded, almost pulling a gun on him in surprise. He let out an amused huff in response. You decided not to think anything of it, chalking your colleagues behavior up to the strangeness of the overall mission.

Soon enough, the two of you were back at the wrangler, but something still felt off. Despite allegedly being inhabited by Marc, none of the lights were on. You silently prayed it was because Marc had a headache and wanted to rest, like Bushman said. Against your better judgment, you went to open the car door.

Bushman let out a deep, maniacal chuckle from behind. You went to look back at him, giving him a questioning glance. However, you were met with one of his giant hands as he slammed your head into the car door with a metallic thunk.

You were on the ground somewhere. You wanted to get up, scan your surroundings and calculate a way of survival. However, it was almost as if something was holding you in place. You barely managed to open your eyes, only to immediately close them. Everything around you was white. Above, the sun still beat down, feverishly so. You managed to turn onto your side, an attempt to escape the heat caused by your back being on the warm ground.

Suddenly, a deep, booming voice spoke.

"Get up."

You spun around in a sitting position, trying to find who, or rather what, was calling out to you, however, the blazing sun and white surroundings weren't doing you any favors.

"Get. Up."

The voice spoke again, this time more stern.

Somehow, you rose to your feet.

That was a mistake. Every inch of your body felt as if it were set aflame, your head feeling as if a large, molten stick were prodding it.

"Come, my child." The deep, commanding voice coaxed you.

"Nng... Everything hurts." You stated, stumbling toward the voice.

"Yes," the voice spoke. By now, you were close to seeing what it belonged to. The voice softly spoke your name, "You are dying."

No... Your steps faltered, causing you to trip.

"I don't want to die." You spoke weakly from the floor.

"If you are to be reborn, you must suffer through pain," the voice stated, it sounded much closer now, "It is the way of things, my child."

Propping yourself up onto your elbows, you were finally able to see what you were speaking to.

On an intricately carved stone throne sat a humanoid being with the head of a falcon, clothed in a loose-fitting white robe with long sleeves, adorned with many pieces of golden jewelry. The scorching sun settled behind the being's head, almost appearing as if its golden blaze was a halo.

You pulled yourself to your feet, pain forgotten in favor of the godly being in front of you. Stopping a few feet away from the base of their throne, you looked at the being, awaiting their next words.

"In exchange for your life," the being stated, your head perking up at the chance of not dying, "you will become an Eye of Ra. You will enact vengeance on my behalf, ensuring the balance between light and dark. If you choose to accept, you will be blessed with godly power and take a role as my avatar."

You nodded, mulling over the god's words. In full honestly, you had very little clue what exactly the god spoke of. However, you were in no place to bargain.

"Fine," you panted, the heat of the sun unwavering, "I accept your offer."

"Good." The god spoke, reaching out a hand to shake. You returned the gesture, sealing your hands together. You immediately felt a rush of power at the god's touch, the burning sun fading into a light warmth.

Suddenly, the white abruptly faded, leaving you alone in the desert. Although the sun was gone, your hand still burned. On the top of your left hand, thin, fresh scars now adorned your flesh, forming an eye of Ra. You clutched the scarified hand to your chest, careful not to irritate the fresh scars.

"Get moving, or the night will swallow you alive." Ra spoke, startling you.

You shot up, frantically looking around for any sign of the god. However, he was nowhere to be found.

"Where will I go?" You asked.

The god paused, as if thinking for a moment. Finally, he responded.

"We will start by atoning for your wrongdoings." The god stated cryptically.

"That's gonna take a while..."

"I heard that," he scolded, "Now come, experience your first taste of godly power."

To you, godly power would have been something more out of a children’s storybook, like shooting lighting out of the palms of your hands. To Ra, however, godly power was a reality, and that reality was making you fly around in a decadent suit, punching whoever he deemed a “threat to the balance between light and dark”, whatever that meant.

Through your many days together, you slowly learned of Ra's relationship with the other gods, how many respected him – with the exception of one: Khonshu. Apparently, the two gods have hated each other since their respective creations, a destiny determined by their control of opposing forces. You found it a bit childish, but would never admit that to Ra.

You and your god had highs and lows. At times, you adored being gifted with such power, but at others, it was like a weight that threatened to drag you down to inescapable depths. However, the worst night was easily the first. After being sent to bury those that Bushman murdered at the dig site,

you spent the entire night searching for Marc. You wouldn't be surprised if you flew over the entirety of the Sahara ten times that night. It was hell, barely having a grip on your newfound power. You would fly for a mile, then lose focus and drop from the sky. Each time you hit the ground, Ra was there to heal you. The cycle repeated many times that night, each fall worse than the last.

Eventually, Ra couldn't bear it anymore. He took control of your body, forcing you to land in a small cave filled with various statues of his fellow deities. In the front of the cave, where the sunlight would filter in, stood a tall statue of Ra, holding an ankh in one hand and a scepter in the other. On the other end of the cave, shrouded in darkness, stood a statue of Khonshu, missing its telltale cape.

"To my dearest love, my brilliant Sun,

The world has decided we can no longer be one

So you take the day and I’ll take the night

You with your happy glow, me with my cold & lonely light"

The soft glow of flames illuminated the ancient brick walls, the warm tones highlighting each dip and crack of the ancient stones within the chamber. Simple, yet elegant stone statues towered over the walls, their presence only let known by the many flames lit throughout the room. You knew every statue well, even the one behind you, which was currently out of view. 

This is a place you have the misfortune of being very well acquainted with; the great pyramid of Giza. 

What was every aspiring traveler's dream was quite literally your nightmare. Instead of being able to come and enjoy the great pyramids aesthetics with the stunning backdrop of the Egyptian skyline and the soft pit-pat of camel hooves on sand, your time at the pyramid was spent spectating arguments between ancient gods. 

Every single night, it was the same deal all over again. Either you relive one of the worst nights of your life, or watch the exact moment the ennead lost the only god who truly cared about the people that worshipped them. Of course – Ra cared, but only because he saw Khonshu’s deeds as something to compete against. Essentially, you had two options: relive the worst night of a god’s life, or yours. Both were equally terrible.  

On one hand – yours, the storyline of it all was daringly simple in comparison to an event so emotionally pungent it makes the strongest Egyptian god, the head of the ennead, turn his back on his own children. Maybe that’s what initially linked you and Ra together – on the same fateful night, you both just happened to make a series of unfortunate decisions that ended up ripping important people from both of your lives.

Tonight you were dealt the other hand, having no choice but to rewatch the night Khonshu was exiled. This was long before your time as his avatar, exacerbated by the small view of what you could see of his avatar then looked nothing like you. 

The flames began to rise higher as a deep voice reverberated through the air of the chamber, causing a barely-noticeable cloud of dust to rise from the ancient brick. 

“How dare you accuse me of such actions while hiding behind your cowardice.” The moon gods' furious roars echoed loudly despite the size of the room, the flames only burning brighter.  

“Control your tone.” scolded a low, feminice voice. 

You didn’t recognize it. Probably exiled herself and lost to time by now. 

Khonshu growled in response. 

“You almost exposed us!” Cried another, a vile tone lacing their words. 

“Imprison him!” 

The cries grew louder and louder, towers of flames threatening to reach the ceiling. 

“SILENCE.” A lone voice roared, the flames immediately lowering to their previous state. 

All in the chamber looked at him expectantly. 

A deep-set feeling of remorseful apprehension ebbed into your flesh at your gaze was lowered to that of Khonshu. Except, this wasn’t how you felt. These were all long lost feelings once felt by one of the most powerful gods in the world – A situation so emotionally charged to make a god known for his stone cold demeanor feel empathetic for what used to be his friend. He would never seal the moon god within stone – despite their status as rivals. \

And his role in Khonshu’s deeds. 

After a few deep breaths – with a shaky inhale only noticed by one trained set of eyes, the sun god raised his avatar’s head to speak,

“Get out.” 

—--

Steven felt a very strong urge to leave. After the whole debacle in the storage unit, then ‘reuniting’ with a woman who he had no recollection of, it could be pretty understandable that his fight or flight response was activated, his mind obviously siding with the latter. 

“How did you find me?” he cautiously asked the woman, his awkward grip on her leather jacket tightening as she haphazardly maneuvered the busy streets of london. 

“How’d you think?” She playfully teased, “I- woah!”

Her response was cut short as she suddenly swerved, a brown flash racing past them. 

Steven was glad he refreshed his grip earlier. 

Pay attention. Ra’s deep voice commanded within your mind. 

You pulled up from the street after the near-incident, deciding to take a break from your patrols. Landing on the edge of a rooftop, you stretched out your wings, which were sore from near-nonstop flying since you lost the scarab. 

This is no time for rest. Ra continued to scold, to your dismay. I found the man with the scarab.

This piqued your interest. After days of flying, Ra finally got a lead of some sort.