Steven Grant's life is anything but extraordinary. He wakes up in his flat, feeds his fish, and then heads to work at a museum gift shop. He leaves his mum voicemails everyday, but doesn't seem to ever hear back, aside from postcards. His sleeping h...
In the mortal realm, in the tomb of Alexander the Great, the shared dead body of Steven Grant and Marc Spector gets pulled from the water, and the corpse gets searched for the treasure hidden inside a white coat.
Ammit's ushabti.
The small figurine gets handed to Arthur and presented to him like a great honor as Layla and Cleo watch in horror from the sidelines.
Cleo's eyes never blink. They remain open and dry as she watches them comb over the corpse like it's nothing more than dirt. Her mind is frozen, unable to think, and unable to comprehend the shocking truth that stands before her.
They're dead.
Marc and Steven are dead.
And no matter how long she stares, it never registers in her mind. She watches as Arthur places the scarab compass on the chest with two bullet holes, but his words never come through her ears. All she can hear is the stark ringing of trauma and panic. It clouds her mind, and she stands like a statue as the sand falls down her fingertips, as it falls down her trembling hands.
Arthur and his men soon pool out of the tomb, and while Layla thinks it's time to go, her former lover would disagree. When Layla moves, Cleo stays. Layla tries to guide her by grabbing her arm, and she tugs and tugs with all her might, but Cleo doesn't move an inch. She stands like a stone, too heavy to move and stuck in place.
While Layla feels the ping in her heart, the stinging in her eyes, and the cold breath of death on the back of her neck, she knows they can't stay. She knows there's much work to be done, and she knows that Arthur must pay for his sins.
But when Layla's head turns and her eyes meet Cleo's, the ping in her heart grows. While some may wear their heart on their sleeve, Cleo wears hers in both her eyes, and now they show the pain inside it. They show so much through the glossy stain of tears. They tell such a fascinating tale without a single word. Layla steps forward, placing a hand on Cleo's shoulder and pressing a gentle, comforting kiss to the side of her head.
" Leo... we need to go," She speaks softly, " I'm sorry."
And yet, Cleo remains silent and motionless.
" Leo..."
" Go," Cleo states with as much confidence and will as she can muster, " I need a moment."
" How will you--"
" Just go."
Layla swallows her worries and settles with the wishes of the grieving woman. Layla aims towards the exit, looking over her shoulder at the corpse of her ex-husband, serving as a reminder as to why she needs to continue this mission.
But Cleo... Cleo can't even think about the mission. It's no longer important. The only thing that matters is what's right in front of her.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Finally, after so long of standing still, Cleo's body moves. It moves down into the water, her large metal boots and hefty armor getting soaked in the process... but she doesn't care. She sinks down into the water with her gold cape circling and floating behind her as she looks down at the corpse. She kneels down beside it, finding the strength to bring her trembling hands up to their face. She brushes the drenched hair off the forehead, then brushes her thumb against the cheekbone. Her mind feels clouded, her heart feels broken... and her soul feels desolate... as if she never found the amulet. As if the curse was never broken.
