Zahra was dead. At least, she should have been if it weren't for an Egyptian Goddess deciding she didn't deserve to die so young. Yet, Zahra had no memories of the time before becoming an Avatar and it seemed that a trip to a familiar place was soon...
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The thunderous roar of motorbikes echoed through the bustling streets of London as Layla and Zahra tracked the phone of Marc Spector. The vibrant city was alive with energy; the sound of revving engines and honking horns blended with the chatter of pedestrians and the distant wail of sirens. Zahra, who had never set foot in London before, felt a mix of excitement and apprehension. The winding roads and complex intersections were a far cry from those she had navigated back in Egypt.
"Marc, it's actually you," Layla gasped.
Zahra looked at 'Marc' with a tilted head. She didn't get the feeling that this person really understood the name at all and the last time Zahra checked, people understood their own names.
The Egyptian watched as Steven climbed onto the back of Layla's bike, while Zahra got back on her own. She took one last glance at them before she flipped her helmet viser down and followed them down the streets of London.
"What the hell is going on? Is this Steven the latest fake identity for you?" Layla demanded.
"How did you find me?"
"How do you think? I tracked your phone," Layla replied. "I thought you wanted me to do that when you turned it on."
"Right. Yeah." 'Marc' muttered.
"You know, you really could have given me any sign that you were alive. I thought that you were in danger, or kidnapped again. I just kept thinking, 'He's got the suit. He's fine.' Then, I thought, 'Well, what if he gets ambushed when he's not wearing it?' And 'What if he doesn't have it?'" Layla rambled. "And... Stop clasping my shoulder like that."
"I don't know where to hold. Feels like riding with a Victorian duchess. Where do I hang on?" 'Marc' questioned.
"Do you see the spiral you put me through? It's not okay, yeah? You lied to me by the way, when you said that Zahra was dead. She's not. How could you just leave your wife like that?" Layla spat in anger.
She scoffed at the lack of reply. Layla had mourned from Zahra when she'd heard that she'd died, though she questioned the fact there was no funeral and Marc disappeared soon after. Now, he had the audacity to stay silent?
"By the way, this would be a great time for you to say something. Anything. Just in case it's not clear," Layla added.
"Sorry, sorry... Did you say wife? I'm married?"
"Look, I'm pretty sure we lost whoever was chasing you. Just drop the act."
"It's not an act. I—"
"Stop with the accent, please!" Layla replied.
"He can't just change his accent if he's British," Zahra commented as she pulled up next to them on her own bike at the traffic lights. "What a stupid statement."
