Without hesitation, Cleo lunges forward, her fist aimed at Anubis's jaw. But the god effortlessly sidesteps her attack, his movements fluid and graceful. Cleo spins around, her combat instincts kicking in as she readies herself for the next strike.

Anubis smiles, a twisted grin that sends shivers down Cleo's spine.

"You can't defeat me, Cleopatra," He says, his voice like a chilling breeze, "I am eternal."

But Cleo refuses to back down. With a primal roar, she charges at Anubis once more, her determination and adrenaline fueling her every move. She throws punch after punch, her strikes fueled by the anger and fear that courses through her veins.

Anubis is taken aback by her ferocity, his smug demeanor faltering for just a moment. But he quickly regains his composure, his dark powers swirling around him like a tempest. He retaliates, striking back at Cleo with a force that sends her flying backward.

As she lands in the sand, Cleo grits her teeth, pushing herself back up to her feet. She refuses to give in, to let Anubis win. She knows she's the only one who can stop him, and she won't stop fighting until Steven is safe.

With newfound determination, Cleo charges at Anubis once more, her mind focused and her heart set on victory. The desert becomes a battleground as they clash, the sands swirling around them in a chaotic dance.

Cleo's fists fly, her movements fueled by raw emotion and unyielding willpower. She dodges and weaves, her body becoming a blur of motion as she strikes at the god of death with all her might.

But Anubis is no ordinary foe. His power is ancient and formidable, and despite Cleo's best efforts, she struggles to gain the upper hand. Each blow she lands is met with equal force from Anubis, pushing her to her limits.

Yet, she doesn't falter. She refuses to give up. Cleo draws upon her inner strength, the memories of her past battles, and the love she holds for Steven and Marc. With every strike, she reaffirms her determination to protect them and to defeat Anubis once and for all.

The battle rages on, the desert bearing witness to the clash of mortal and god. Cleo fights with all her heart and soul, refusing to be cowed by the power of the ancient deity.

As the sun sets on the horizon, casting an ethereal glow over the desert, Cleo finds herself backed into a corner. Her body aches, her muscles burning with exhaustion. But she stands tall, her gaze unwavering as she faces Anubis one final time.

The sand bends to her will as it swirls around her fingertips, that strikes the God in an attempt to bring him down. Anubis snarls, showing off his sharp teeth as he fights against the sands, but Cleo's force brings him down further and further, till his knees begin to disappear within the tan sand.

Her sword is unsheathed as she locks eyes with the God, and with a raging battle cry, she charges forward, jumping up into the air and ready to once and for all vanquish the God of Death.

As Cleo lunges at Anubis with her sword raised high, a sudden gust of wind sweeps through the desert, stirring up the sand and causing her to lose her balance mid-air. Anubis seizes the opportunity, using his powers to dissipate the sand that had ensnared him, and he swiftly dodges Cleo's attack.

"Nice try, mortal," Anubis sneers, his voice dripping with contempt.

Cleo's heart pounds in her chest, frustration and anger bubbling inside her. She can't let Anubis win, not after all they've been through. With a growl, she charges again, swinging her sword with all her might. But Anubis is agile and quick, effortlessly dodging each strike.

As the battle continues, Cleo's exhaustion starts to catch up with her. She can feel her muscles protesting each movement, her breath coming in ragged gasps. But she refuses to give in. She's fought too hard, come too far to let Anubis best her now.

Anubis continues to taunt Cleo, his laughter echoing through the desert.

"You can't defeat a god."

But Cleo's anger only intensifies with his taunts. She channels that anger into her attacks, pushing herself beyond her limits. She summons the power of the desert, commanding the sand to rise and swirl around her, forming a whirlwind of fury.

The sandstorm engulfs Anubis, momentarily obscuring him from view. Cleo seizes the opportunity and charges, slashing her sword through the sandstorm. But when the sand settles, Anubis stands unscathed, his laughter ringing in her ears.

"Is that the best you can do?" Anubis mocks, his eyes glinting with malice.

Cleo grits her teeth, frustration boiling over. She refuses to be defeated, to let Anubis win. With a surge of adrenaline, she charges at him again, her movements fueled by sheer determination.

But just as she's about to strike, Anubis vanishes into thin air, reappearing a few meters away. He continues to toy with her, using his godly powers to evade her attacks effortlessly.

Cleo's heart sinks with each failed attempt. Anubis is too powerful, too elusive. She can't seem to land a single blow. Her body feels heavy, her limbs weighed down by exhaustion, but she can't stop. Not now.

Anubis takes advantage of Cleo's weariness, striking back with a fierce blow that sends her sprawling to the ground. The impact knocks the wind out of her, leaving her gasping for breath. She struggles to get back on her feet, her muscles screaming in protest.

Just as it seems like all hope is lost, a glimmer of light appears on the horizon. A figure clad in a white hooded cloak emerges from the shadows, moving with an otherworldly grace.

With a crescent-shaped blade in each hand, Marc engages Anubis, his movements fluid and precise. He moves with a speed and skill that rivals the god himself, countering Anubis's attacks with ease.

Cleo watches in awe as Marc and Anubis clash, their battle sending shockwaves through the desert. Marc's determination is palpable, and he fights with a ferocity that Cleo has never seen before.

Seeing an opportunity, Cleo springs into action, using her agility and quick reflexes to land a series of blows on Anubis's flank. The god of death is momentarily caught off guard, allowing Marc to deliver a devastating strike, sending him staggering backward.

The three of them circle each other, the tension in the air thick and electrifying. Cleo and Marc move in perfect harmony, even as the body switches over to Steve's control, their attacks complementing each other. It's as if they share an unspoken connection, a shared purpose in this battle against the god of death.

Anubis's frustration grows, his golden eyes blazing with fury. He lashes out with his dark powers, conjuring spectral creatures to attack Cleo and Steven. But they stand their ground, meeting the onslaught with unwavering resolve.

With a battle cry, Cleo charges at Anubis, her sword gleaming in the fading light. Steven follows suit, his crescent blades slashing through the air. The two of them fight as one, their movements fluid and synchronized.

Anubis fights back, his dark powers swirling around him like a tempest. But Cleo and Steven press on, their determination unwavering. They refuse to back down, to let Anubis win.

As the battle reaches its climax, the desert seems to hold its breath. The sand swirls around them, a testament to the fierce power of their clash. Cleo's heart pounds in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The ground trembles beneath them as Cleo and Marc unleash a barrage of attacks upon Anubis. Marc's crescent blades slice through the air, while Cleo's sword glows with a fierce, otherworldly energy. They push themselves to their limits, fighting with a ferocity and determination that can only come from the depths of their souls.

Anubis retaliates with equal force, summoning dark tendrils of energy to strike at his opponents. He moves with an unnatural grace, his glowing eyes locked on Cleo and Marc with an intensity that sends chills down their spines. With a swift and powerful move, Anubis sends Marc sprawling to the ground, leaving Cleo to face the god of death alone. But Cleo refuses to be deterred. She channels the strength of her ancestors, drawing upon their wisdom and power to fuel her attacks.

As Cleo launches herself at Anubis, her blade clashes with his, sending sparks flying in all directions. The desert landscape becomes a battleground of light and shadows, the clash of mortal and godly powers reverberating through the air.

With a burst of energy, Cleo forces Anubis back, creating a momentary opening in his defenses. In a bold move, she charges forward, avoiding his strikes with uncanny agility. With a deft and unexpected maneuver, she manages to land a solid blow to his chest, causing him to stagger backward.

Her heart pounds as her eyes dip down to her hand... of which holds the heart of Anubis-- dark and decrepit.

"Anubis," Cleo's voice carries a strength she didn't know she possessed, "You will pay for the pain you've inflicted."

With her other hand, Cleo forms an intricate scale made of sand, and she places the heart on one side of the scale. Anubis's eyes widen with shock as he sees the heart on the scale— his own heart.

The scales tremble, but they do not tip. Anubis's heart remains heavier, weighted down by centuries of darkness and cruelty.

A hint of fear flickers in Anubis's glowing eyes. For the first time in eons, the god of death feels true trepidation. His immortality has been predicated on the idea that he is the embodiment of balance, that his heart weighs equally against those he judges.

But in this moment, the truth is revealed. Anubis's heart is heavy with the sins he has committed, the souls he has claimed without just cause.

"No," Anubis growls, his voice tinged with panic, "This cannot be!"

Cleo's resolve only strengthens as she steps closer to the god, her eyes blazing with determination.

" I told you," She declares, "Your chaos will end by my hand."

With those words, Cleo raises her sword high, ready to deliver the final blow. She plunges her sword into the body of the God, delivering the final attack in order to end his reign of terror.

A feat that only a fellow God could accomplish.

In that moment, time seems to stand still. The world holds its breath as the scales of justice balance precariously, teetering on the edge of destiny.

Then, with a resounding finality, the scales tip. Anubis's heart weighs heavier, condemning him to the fate he had so callously inflicted upon others.

As the desert winds carry away the echoes of the battle, Anubis's form begins to fade, dissolving into the sands from which he was born. The god of death is defeated, his dark reign brought to an end.

Cleo and Marc stand side by side, their chests heaving with exertion, but their spirits triumphant. They have faced the embodiment of death and emerged victorious.

" How you feelin, baby?" Marc asks through his heaving chest.

" Good," Cleo nods with a heavy exhale as her head turns up to gaze at the moon, " But not good enough."

" Cleo--"

But before Marc can even finish his sentence, Cleo's determination takes over. Her eyes glaze over with an ethereal glow as her gaze is fixated upon the moon, her mind focusing only on the God she wishes to summon.

" Khonshu."

The old and withered bird materializes with a sigh, standing behind the two of them as he holds his staff between his bandaged fingers.

" CLEOPATRA."

Cleo turns to face the God, her instincts kicking in as she brings her leg forward and smacks Khonshu down to the ground, keeping her boot upon his chest as she brings her sword to his beak.

" Release them," She commands.

But just as quickly as she brought down Khonshu, she is then brought down by a man with a Latin tongue.

" Lo siento, mi vida," Jake speaks as their eyes meet, " Pero I can't let you do that."

Cleo brings her legs up to wrap around his neck, then flips them over so Cleo is on top.

" I'm not asking for permission," She utters.

Cleo dives to grab her sword, only for Jake to grab her hair and force her back against his chest.

" I do not wish to hurt you, mi amor," He tsks, " Unless you want me to."

Her elbow makes contact with his chest temporarily knocking the wind out of him, allowing for Cleo to grab her sword from the sand.

The struggle for control over the shared body intensifies as Cleo brandishes her sword, her eyes flickering with a mix of determination and fear. She knows she must act swiftly to stop Jake from interfering with Khonshu, but the body keeps switching between alters, causing her movements to falter.

One moment, it's Marc in control, desperately trying to restrain Jake and protect Cleo. The next, it's Steven, attempting to reason with Jake and find a peaceful resolution. And then, in a flash, it's Jake again, his enigmatic smile returning as he revels in the chaos he's causing.

Cleo hesitates as she watches the men she love fight for control of their shared body. Her hand tightly grasps around the hilt of her sword, feet planted on the earth beneath her as she watches in near horror.

The changes were normally so smooth and effortless.

But now the changes in control appear grotesque and grim, as if each transformation offers its own painful grip on each alter. As if Marc doesn't have control over his own body.

As if he never did.

Cleo's heart aches as she realizes the truth of the situation. The alters weren't meant to coexist peacefully; their shared body was always meant to be a battleground, a constant struggle for dominance. And in that moment, she understands the depth of their pain and the magnitude of the burden they carry.

She takes a step back, her sword lowered, as she looks at the three alters before her. Each one fighting for control, each one yearning for their own version of freedom and salvation. The realization that they've been living in this perpetual torment, trapped within their own minds, fills her with a sense of sorrow she can't put into words.

In the corner of her eye, she sees the God attempt to stand and steady himself with his staff, and all it takes is for Cleo to shove her hand in his direction, and he's held in place by sand restrains. She brings her other hand forward, and watches as the sand dances along her fingertips and swirl towards the shared body, where it wraps around and forms a more gentle form of restraint,

" Jake," She starts, her voice soft and gentle as she uses all of her might to remain at least somewhat composed, " You don't have to do this. You don't have to fight for him."

She watches him struggle, though unsure of whom exactly is in control.

" Khonshu doesn't offer you freedom," Cleo continues, " He's using you. He seeks to control you, not set you free," she takes a deep breath," His is a path that will forever be stained with blood."

The struggle within the shared body seems to intensify as Cleo's words reach Jake's ears. His expression contorts between determination and uncertainty, his features caught between the different alters vying for control. The sands that bind him tighten slightly, a subtle reminder of the power Cleo wields, but also a symbol of her restraint.

In the shifting landscape of their shared consciousness, the alters clash and collide like turbulent storms, each one fighting for dominance, their emotions and desires clashing like lightning and thunder. Marc, the valiant defender, fights to protect Cleo and Steven, to shield them from harm and find a way to restore harmony. Steven, the gentle pacifist, yearns for peace and resolution, seeking to calm the tempest within and heal the fractured bonds. And Jake, the enigmatic manipulator, craves the intoxicating taste of power, his desire to control and dominate burning like a relentless fire.

Amidst the internal turmoil, Cleo stands like a beacon of strength, her presence both grounding and magnetic. Her eyes lock with Jake's, and she senses the conflict within him, the whirlwind of emotions tearing at his soul. She knows that the key to reaching him lies not in force, but in empathy and understanding.

"He promises me power," Jake's voice wavers, a mix of fear and longing evident in his tone, "I can't give that up."

Cleo takes a step closer to Jake, navigating the volatile currents of their shared mindscape with determination. She knows she must tread carefully, for one wrong move could tip the delicate balance.

"Power comes at a cost," She says, her voice steady, "And Khonshu is not to be trusted. He'll use you until he no longer has any use for you, and then he'll cast you aside. You deserve more than that, Jake. You deserve to be free from his manipulation."

The sands that had restrained Jake seem to loosen as Cleo's words seep into the depths of his consciousness. The internal struggle becomes more intricate, the alters momentarily blending and merging like colors on an artist's palette.

Marc and Steven continue their battle for control, but something begins to shift within them. The realization dawns that they share a common purpose – to protect Cleo and keep her safe from harm. As their mutual love for her intertwines, the bonds between them strengthen, their individual identities finding harmony within the shared body.

Cleo extends her hand towards Jake, a gesture filled with empathy and compassion. She opens herself up, sharing her own pain and vulnerability, allowing him to see the depth of her love for Marc and Steven, the fierce protectiveness she feels for them.

"You don't have to be alone," She whispers, her voice barely above a breath.

For a moment, Jake's resistance seems to falter. The enigmatic smirk fades, and his eyes soften, revealing the fractured soul beneath the surface. The sands around him loosen, the restraint lessening, but not disappearing entirely.

"Pero... I don't know how to let go," He admits, his voice barely audible.

Cleo takes another step closer, her hand outstretched towards him. She can feel the energy that surrounds them, the connection between their souls, and she knows that she has to be gentle, patient, and understanding.

"You don't have to do it all at once," she says, her voice a soothing whisper, "We can take it one step at a time."

As she speaks, the alter of Jake begins to flicker like a fading flame. The other alters, Marc and Steven, sense the changes within the shared body and offer their support, realizing that unity is the only path to true healing.

The internal struggle within the shared body eases slightly, a sense of harmony beginning to form among the alters. Cleo's words seem to be reaching them all, binding them together in a way they had never experienced before.

Cleo takes one final step, closing the distance between her and Jake. She reaches out and gently touches his hand, a silent gesture of connection and understanding. She doesn't know what the future holds, but she knows that they will face it together, as one.

In that moment of unity, the shared body shifts and settles, and for the first time in a long time, all three alters find themselves coexisting peacefully. The storms within their minds begin to calm, like waves receding on a tranquil shore.

Cleo's touch ignites a spark of hope within Jake, a glimmer of belief that he doesn't have to be consumed by darkness and manipulation. The sands that had restrained him disintegrate, setting him free from the hold of Khonshu's influence.

With each passing moment, the power that Khonshu held over Jake weakens, his hold on the shared body diminishing. The God of the Moon himself watches from the shadows, his face a mixture of rage and frustration at the loss of control.

As the alters find unity, they also find their strength multiplied. The three of them move as one, their thoughts and actions synchronized. With newfound harmony, they turn their attention back to Khonshu.

The God witnesses the unity and power of the shared body. In a desperate attempt to regain control, he summons his dark powers, unleashing a torrent of spectral creatures to attack them. But Cleo, Marc, and Steven stand strong, their unity a shield against Khonshu's malevolent forces.

As Khonshu's attacks are thwarted, the sands of the desert rise once more, forming a colossal wave that surges towards the god. The wave crashes over him, its force overwhelming. Khonshu's form begins to fade, and he is once again absorbed into the sands of the desert, defeated and powerless.

With the battle won, Cleo, Marc, and Steven stand together in the desert, their shared body finally at peace. They look at each other, their eyes reflecting the newfound harmony within their minds.

"We did it," Cleo says, her voice filled with wonder and relief.

"We did," Marc agrees, a smile gracing his lips.

Steven nods, his expression serene as he takes over.

"Together."

Their shared body is no longer a battleground, but a place where the three alters can support and understand each other, finding strength in their differences and love for one another.

And with the moon high above in the heavens, shinning down across the shimmering sands, Cleo, Marc, and Steven walk forward, ready to face whatever the future holds, united as one.

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[ we're almost there 👀 what do y'all think? ]