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Cleo trudges through the magical doorway, head pounding and eyes shut closed as she's blinded by a shimmering light. Behind her eyelids appears the haunting memories of her past as they flash before her, spanning from her first time to America where she played the piano in an empty house to her adventure in Luxor in which the amulet was first found. It seers her brain, branding the memories into her mind as if she were cattle. The voices of her past swirl and combine together as she makes her way through the path, falling down to the ground with one final whisper of her name.
" Cleopatra."
The air gets knocked out of her lungs as Cleo lands on her chest against the sandy ground. Her palms lie flat against the ground as she pushes herself upwards with a groan, standing up tall on her two feet as she brushes off the sand from her clothes.
As Cleo grabs for her flashlight, she realizes that she doesn't need it, for the room she finds herself to be in is illuminated by torches and covered in mirrors. Dirty mirrors with cracks flowing from one side to the other. At first, she's met with her own reflection, one that shows her in her present state, but as her legs carry her further into the room, her reflection begins to change.
In the next mirror, she's but a child. Innocent and pure, but unfulfilled and alone.
Cleo freezes in place as she gazes down at the poor little child, staring in disbelief but mind quickly producing an answer.
The Hall of Memories.
Thought to have been a myth, a deception used by Ancient Egyptians who were tortured and driven to the brick of insanity, locked away in a hall of mirrors that begin to lie to their face.
Only these mirrors tell the truth.
The next mirror shows Cleo as a young girl, slowly growing into her adult form, but eyes still missing something, missing a soul behind them.
The next shows Cleo in the middle of her studies, obsessing over her degrees whilst her mental health heavily declines. She thought that by making her life all about her work, her mental health would somehow improve, but all those psychology classes showed her otherwise.
Cleo Hassan had her first complete psychotic break on her 21st birthday, as show by the next mirror, in which Cleo is in tears. She was all alone, no one to call, no one to be with, no one to sing her happy birthday, and it sent her tumbling over the edge.
Cleo finds herself biting back tears as she forces herself to keep going, seeing herself in every single low moment in her entire existence.
But then, as the last mirror conjures its image, it shows Cleo something she's only ever seen in a dream.
Cleo's dressed in golden armor, presenting as a grand and powerful warrior, as the one thing she's wanted to be since she was a little girl.
A hero.
The image in the mirror shows Cleo confident as ever, eyes shining with a sparkle that never existed prior to her discovering the amulet. And as Cleo reaches into her pocket to examine the amulet, it hums in her hand, as if that's its way of confirming what she sees is true, but once she goes to gaze into the mirror again, the image disappears, and in the reflection is Cleo in present day. A sigh escapes her chest as she stares into her own reflection, finding little solace in the memories show, for they've plagued her mind for years. Nonetheless, they've made her the person that she is today, for better or for worse. And while she may not enjoy the reminder, she opts to let the memories slide off, rather than letting them upset her furthermore.
Cleo exits the Hall of Memories and enters yet another chasm in the tomb, needing the light from her flashlight to illuminate the path for her.
" How did it feel?"
The voice from behind Cleo makes her instantly turn around to face it, finding none other than Baahir leaning against the wall by the hallway in which she came, standing dressed in his all black garbs with a barely visible gold chain around his neck.
" How do you think?" She taunts as she stands her ground.
" I think..." Baahir starts as he lifts himself from the wall, " It felt difficult to revisit all your struggles... but I think the power is what drives you. What gives you motivation."
" My motivation is to prevent you from releasing a banished God," Cleo corrects, " Not power."
" Then you do not truly know... do you?" He asks with a tilt of his head as he begins to circle her, " The power inside the amulet. It's yours for the taking, of course... but there's more to it that just creating sandcastles. You hold the power of the gods in the palm of your hand. You hold the power to become more than just an archaeologist with a heart of gold. You could become..." he leans in to whisper in her ear, " A goddess."
It sends a shiver down her spine.
" And why would I want that?" Cleo questions as she attempts to hide her curiosity.
" Because I know you, habibati," Baahir responds, " Because with that power, you would never be alone a day in your life. You would have the power to be strong. No more would others be able to make you feel weak or inept. No more would you be abandoned," he strikes a nerve and smirks as she tenses, " No more would thee Cleopatra Sa'd Hassan have to answer to HR at the museum... or provide intel for mercenaries raiding tombs," he stands in front of her and locks eyes, " But you would be able to live up to your namesake... and have all the power in the world."
Tempting in an understatement for her true feelings. All the things he says is true, and god does she hate it. She hates how well he knows her, and hates how seductive the choice of power truly is.
" Lamaa yajib ealayu tasdiqaka? (Why should I believe you?)" She questions in her native tongue, eyes flickering between his.
And Baahir only smiles.
" Jarabaha (Try it)" He says simply.
But Cleo doesn't budge. Baahir can see her mind working tirelessly as she thinks over what to do.
" Jarabaha, Cleopatra."
By the ever so slight furrow of her brows, Baahir can see that she's considering it, and it makes his grin upon his lips even wider.
He watches as Cleo holds the amulet in the palm of her hand, her eyes breaking the contact with his in order to gaze down upon the golden object in her hands. As Cleo lifts it up to be level with her chest, the humming grows and vibrates throughout her entire body. The amulet begins to glow, the brightness increasing with every second as the same golden glow paints over Cleo's eyes. She's unable to look away as her entire body feels like a million bees are bumbling from deep within her. The amulet keeps humming and it keeps glowing, nearly blinding them both as it explodes, creating a blast that tosses Baahir back against the nearest stone wall.
It takes him a moment to recover, and he groans as he lifts his pained body up and off the floor. His head lifts as his eyes wonder to find the one he's looking for, and they settle on Cleo's fallen figure on the floor, smirking as he embraces his good work.
Cleo's pained expression remains across her face as she lifts her head up, finding an extra weight on her body as she goes to lift herself up.
" Arise, my beautiful beautiful... Goddess Cleopatra."
Baahir's words, while normally headache inducing, are somewhat eye opening for her. Cleo's eyes open to her new true. Arms covered in gold gauntlets, shoulders wrapped in a white fur tuft, thighs bare and feet covered in boots up to her knees while her torso is wrapped in fitted armor with a long gold cape, her lengthy and curled hair falling down her face as she examines all her new features while being gazed upon as if she's putting on a show. Her arms raise, expecting to see the amulet, but its nowhere to be found. All that's left is the Eye of Horus symbol that lays on the skin of her forearm, a permanent reminder of where her gift came from. Her head raises to find Baahir with a smirk plastered across his face, acting as a non-verbal I told you so.
" How does it feel?" He asks.
" I..." Cleo starts, eyes zoning out as the answer presents itself as unclear, " I don't know."
" Then let's find out, shall we?"
Baahir suddenly picks up a boulder and hurdles it towards her. Cleo's eyes widen as her instinct tells her to roll out of the way. But all he does is continue to throw large and heavy objects at her, refusing to give up until she does something. And once she's fed up enough, Cleo puts her hands out in front of the boulder, grabbing it with her two hands before it can crush her. And it was easy, almost too easy. She looks at the rock in amazement, eyes then lifting to him.
" Good," Baahir affirms, " Now turn it to sand."
" Baahir, I can't--"
" Just do it."
Cleo clenches her jaw and huffs, finding arguing with him to be pointless.
Her eyes travel down to the boulder that now rests in her two hands, soon closing them to focus. She focuses on the weight of the rock, imaging it going from heavy to light, compact to airy, and soon enough the rock begins to dissolve in her hands and tickle her palms, and she opens her eyes to see nothing but a large vat of sand falling from her hands and down to the ground where it paints her newly acquired boots.
And yet, Baahir continues to smile, but his eyes have a hint of darkness to them. A gleam that shows his true nature, which has always been his downfall.
As good of a manipulator that Baahir may be, his eyes always give him away.
Attached to her hip, Cleo feels a long, golden broadsword stowed away in its sheath, but the moment her hand slowly inches towards it, Baahir acts first by pulling out his gun and aiming it right at her. Cleo pauses, her hand frozen as her body stills.
" I can never fully get to you, can I?" He asks with a tilt of his head.
" Because you always want something, Baahir," Cleo responds as she states the obvious, " What is it this time?"
Baahir takes his time as he steps closer and closer to her, close enough to press the tip of the gun against her forehead.
" Power, habibati," He says softly, " Isn't it obvious?"
He moves the gun from her forehead to her chin, using it to lift her head up so her neck is bare.
" Are you going to kill me?" She questions, her eyes now on the ceiling.
A low chuckle erupts from his chest.
" Aw, my beautiful, beautiful Cleopatra," Baahir taunts as his thumb grazes her cheek, " Now why would I do such a thing?"
With his parting words, Baahir removes the gun from her chin and disappears within the dark caverns of the tomb, and by the time Cleo's head tilts back down, he's gone. Nowhere to be found and nowhere to be seen. A seemingly impossible task that he's of course pulled off.
Cleo inhales a rather large sum of air into her lungs, reaching down to grab her things, pointing the flashlight towards the gloomy hallway as she begins her trek forward, finding her armor seemingly normal, as if it's not something to be questioned, as if she's had it the entire time.
And from the gloomy hall she comes across an opening. She veers right into a grand tomb, paintings of blue and red from thousands of years ago with gold trinkets scattered about, and in the middle of the room sits a sarcophagus, top pushed open with Steven shoving his hand down the throat of the deceased, and from it he pulls the very thing they came here to find.
Ammit's ushabti.
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[ what do we think cleo's superhero name should be? ]
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