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𓄂 "People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us... It's people who claim that they're good, or any way better than the rest of us, that you have to be wary of." ·.·.·.·.⊹✩✧ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ✧✩⊹.·.·.·.·
Steven rubbed his sore wrists where the handcuffs had once been as he cautiously followed beside Harrow. Not that he could have turned away if he wanted to, as Harrow had his hand firmly planted on his back, leading him through the strange neighborhood. "See, this neighborhood used to have the highest crime rate in all the city. There was so much suffering. So much pain," Harrow spoke, gesturing with his cane. "It was truly heartbreaking. Now, people don't lock their doors at night. They feel safe." As they walked, Steven observed the people around him. Children played games with one another and neighbors chatted aimlessly in several different languages. The streets seemed to be full of life, with plants flourishing in every corner and even a little garden filled with fruits and vegetables. It truly seemed like a slice of paradise, and Steven might have found himself wanting to live here, had he not known what the man running it all was capable of.
Harrow led him into a large room which seemed to act as a sort of cafeteria. The were many (mostly) empty tables scattered about and large buffet style containers piled with food. "You hungry?" Steven was not. "The food's free." There was no way he'd be able to find an appetite in this situation. Still, he said nothing. "You're a vegan, right? You might want to try the lentil soup. It's Victor's recipe. Here," Harrow chuckled as he handed the confused man beside him a tray. As they moved down the line of food, Harrow returned to his spiel. "I know being on the right side of things is important to you. Khonshu always tries to ensnare those with a strong moral conscience." Steven followed him mindlessly as he sat down at a random table, not even bothering to touch the bowl of soup sat on his tray. "What's he saying now?" Harrow inquired, "I am real justice?" Khonshu had actually just said those exact words, but Steven was pointedly trying to ignore the obnoxious moon god.
"Can you hear him?" Steven swallowed anxiously.
"Not anymore. I was his former Avatar. Before you, I was the fist of vengeance."
"I'm not the fist of anything. That's the little American man living inside of me." Steven played around with his food, swirling the spoon in the soup. Somewhere nearby, his reflection shot him a glare.
"And that's, uh, that's Marc?" Steven nodded, not taking his eyes off his soup. "Khonshu punishes those who have already walked an evil path. His retribution comes too late. By the time his fist of vengeance arrives, people have already suffered." Steven finally looked up from his bowl, but continued to nod along, afraid to upset the man sat before him. "Ammit knows this all too well. She tears evil up from the root, casting her judgment before any evil's done. That's why we must resurrect her." Harrow's tone had grown noticeably darker, his voice fading into a low but passionate whisper. "Which brings us to the scarab." Suddenly, everyone in the room stood up and turned to face the conversing pair. Steven got the feeling that what he said next would greatly affect his chances of getting out of here alive. "That scarab functions as a kind of compass, leading us to Ammit's tomb, so..."
