Efffff...this silly movie and its glorious ship have straight up ruined my life. Did I want to want to leave the theater as total Horbek trash? Absolutely not. Did I leave the theater as total Horbek trash? You bet your ass I did. *incoherent grumbling*

Anyway, this is a fill for one of the prompts over on the fandom page; a kind of "what if" scenario about what may have happened if Set had taken Bek during the pyramid scene. This story will go right up to the part where they go off to face Set at the end of the movie so I apologize if it seems a little abrupt. I'm still getting used to the characters so hopefully everyone is pretty close to canon!

Hope you guys like it! :D

"What's the matter? Nothing to say?"

The mortal glares at him from his place against the wall. "Oh believe me, there is plenty I would like to say. I could fill an entire scroll with things I want to say and not a single one of them would be complimentary. However, as I'm not entirely keen on the idea of having my tongue ripped out of my mouth, I'm keeping my comments to myself."

The god of the chaos smirks at the feisty human. "You're smarter than I gave you credit for; I'll keep that in mind. It's a shame you weren't on my side, I would have made you a rich man."

The mortal, Bek, rolls his eyes and slumps against the column he's chained to. "How kind of you. I'll pass. I think I preferred the company of the sphinx."

Set smirks at his prisoner again. "I can see why he favored you. Most mortals wouldn't dare speak to a god so imprudently. You're either incredibly bold or incredibly foolish."

"I'm incredibly irritated if you must know," Bek retorts with a glare. It's difficult to to give off a decent impression of ire and outrage when one is chained to a stone column but he feels he pulls it off well enough. "Being held hostage by a megalomaniacal god was not how I thought this day would turn out but here I am." He gestures, sort of, around the room with one chained wrist.

To say that the day had taken an unexpected and disappointing turn would have been an understatement. Getting captured by a murderous, egomaniacal god with a superiority complex had been just the tip of the metaphorical sword. That would have been bad enough but then to find out that Horus had been lying to him for the past two days, using him to get his revenge against Set, that had been a harsh blow.

He wants to be angry at Horus for deceiving him but honestly he's just mad at himself. He's angry that he actually allowed himself to trust Horus, to believe that he could bring Zaya back in exchange for his help. He's angry that he allowed himself to be so blinded, to put so much faith in a selfish, vengeful god who acted for nothing more than a personal vendetta. Horus had tricked and used him to his own advantage and Bek had allowed it to happen.

He feels a hot flush of shame and anger flare across his skin. He'd never been one for worship and religion, he never prayed to the gods or asked for their help. Not until Zaya. She had been the one to hold conviction for both of them, to worship and pray and glorify the gods for both their sakes. When she died, he wanted to believe that her constant faith and devotion would have been enough for the gods to have mercy on her, not for his sake but for hers. Zaya was innocent and pure and if anyone deserved to be saved it was her.

So against every instinct he possessed, he allowed himself to believe that Horus could save her. He was willing to give up everything, to throw the bones and take an insane risk if it meant she would be brought back. He should have known better...he should have been able to protect her…

In the end it was all for nothing; Horus couldn't save Zaya and Bek wonders if he would have honored their promise even if he could.

Bek sighs and lets his head drop back against the stone column. He feels bruised and battered all over, his muscles stiff and sore from days of fight or flight. The adrenaline high from the past two days is finally beginning to wear off, bringing with it a bone-deep ache and a wave of exhaustion. Both of his wrists have been rubbed raw from the chains securing him to the column and there's a deep, gnawing bruise forming along the length of his spine. The fact that no bones had been broken in the past few days was a minor miracle in and of itself. He doesn't thank the gods for that though; he credits it to skill and dumb luck.

His capture earlier hadn't really helped matters; Set wasn't exactly gentle when he dragged him out of the pyramid. He wasn't worried about damaged goods, he would more than likely kill him before this was all over anyway. That thought alone should have been terrifying but it's not. Bek can't even find it in him to be scared or anxious or angry anymore; he just feels tired.

The memories of the pyramid had been a blur. He remembers bits and pieces, snippets that had a hard time coming together to form a coherent picture. He remembers the sphinx and the riddle, Thoth's answer and the thunderous crumble of sand and stone as the sphinx collapsed in defeat. He remembers the cage, Horus and Hathor trapped inside, and Set murdering Thoth. And then the truth, the lie, the confession; whatever it was. It all came tumbling out like a landslide. Horus had lied, he couldn't save Zaya, he'd been using him. Bek was crushed and he wasn't sure if it was because Zaya was gone forever or if it was because Horus had deceived him. The blow had been enough to floor him and it had given Set just the opportunity he needed to snatch the flask containing the Waters of Creation and destroy it.

Bek had expected to die then and there, to be swallowed in the red sands of the desert and forgotten for all time. Honestly he would have welcomed it; Zaya was gone and he nothing left. What else was there to live for? But he didn't die in the pyramid, Set saw to that. He left Horus and Hathor in the cage and snatched Bek up by the scruff of the neck like an unruly kitten, shoving him under one arm and strolling out of the pyramid as it collapsed behind him. For the briefest of moments, Bek could have sworn he saw a flash of something like fear in Horus' eye, an expression that looked equal parts possessive and protective. It was hard to tell, what with being unceremoniously hauled out of the pyramid like a sack of sand by the desert god. He thought he heard Horus shout his name, call out for him, but it was difficult to hear anything over the crumbling of the pyramid.

He doesn't really know what happened after that, only that one minute they were right outside the ruins of Set's pyramid and the next they were in a great stone hall housing what looked like a forge on one end. Set dropped him at the base of the nearest column and chained him to it, linking the chains around both wrists. It was meant to keep him in place rather than actively restrain him; Set had bigger concerns than a scrawny, wayward thief.

Toward the end of the hall at the top of a stone stairway leading up to the forge, Set's followers were busy assembling what looked like pieces of battle armor. They work quickly and efficiently, reciting praises and incantations as they haul huge slabs of metal from one station to another. It's like watching a clump of ants struggle with a giant blade of grass, scurrying all around in the hopes of getting their prize to the correct location.

"You should feel honored," Set tells him, his eyes locked on the busy workers at the end of the hall. "You will be one of the few mortals to witness my greatest achievement, something Osiris could never have hoped to accomplish."

Bek follows his gaze down toward the forge and frowns. "Your greatest achievement is building a suit of armor?"

The desert god looks at him like the question is quite possibly the stupidest thing he's ever heard. He allows a quiet chuckle before dropping to a crouch and reaching out to pat the side of Bek's face roughly. It enough to knock the smaller man to the side with very little effort. "I forget how utterly hopeless you mortals are sometimes," he chides lightly, giving him an indulgent smile like he's speaking to a very small, naive child.

He grabs Bek by the arm suddenly and pulls him back upright. The shift is sharp and forceful enough to cause the joint in shoulder flare in protest. Set hears the pained gasp but he doesn't care; he grabs Bek's chin and jerks his head to the side so that he's looking toward the forge again.

"This is not simply a suit of armor," he tells him, his voice sharp and a little threatening. "Look at the elements used to create it: the wings of Nephthys, the knowledge of Thoth, the heart of Osiris." He releases Bek's chin and glares down at him, a dangerous flash of power flickering through his eyes. "I am not longer just one god, I am all of them. I possess their strengths, their power, everything that made them divine. I am the change the world needs, the spark that will ignite a new age."

He releases his grip on the human's jaw and gestures around the room grandly. "No longer will you look to a pantheon of gods, a cluster of useless deities who are content in complacency and sedation. You will look to one all-powerful god, immortal and almighty. You will look to me and fall to your knees, supplant yourself before me and submit to my reign. This is my accomplishment, you foolish boy. This is what Osiris could never achieve."

"Well then you may want to make the suit a bit bigger," Bek tells him, his eyes narrowing up at the god above him. "I doubt your ego will fit inside."

Set smirks and shakes his head, chuckling humorlessly. One hand suddenly flies out and catches Bek across the face, knocking him to the side painfully. Bek winces and coughs, his mouth filling with blood. The blow hadn't been enough to break his jaw but it was close; he's pretty sure a few of his teeth had been rattled in their sockets. He winces again and pulls himself back into a sitting position, spitting out a glob of blood onto the polished stone floor.

"I would be cautious, mortal," the desert god tells him gravely, his blue eyes narrowing in warning. "The only reason you're still alive is because you're useful to me. The moment you outlive that usefulness, I will kill you."

It wasn't a threat, it was a promise. Still, Bek had never been one for intimidation and he's certainly not going to succumb to it now. "You're using me," he repeats, spitting out another mouthful of blood. "For what purpose? What could you possibly need me for?"

Set gives him another tolerant smirk. "I should think it would be obvious by now."

Bek glares at him and shakes his head. "My apologies but I think you'll have to elaborate."

The god of the desert levels him with a sharp look. "I'm using you as bait to draw out Horus."

The explanation takes him by surprise; so much so that Bek begins to laugh. It hurts, his aching jaw protesting the movement, but he laughs anyway. "You're wasting your time," he says finally, seeing the perplexion on Set's face. "Horus won't come for me."

"Oh, but he will," Set counters easily like the human's denial was a non-issue. "Do you want to know why?" He crouches down again and gets right in Bek's face. "Because he has to. Look around you," he gestures around the hall again with one hand. "The gods have fallen, brought low by one of their own. Horus will come because he does not want to admit defeat, he does not want to admit that he's been beaten. He'll come because he has nothing left to lose."

He reaches out and ruffles the human's hair roughly. "I just took the last thing he had, the last thing he might have cared about. Trust me, he'll come for you."

Bek jerks away from his hand and shakes his head. "So why bother with the pyramid? Why not kill him when he was in the cage?"

The desert god shrugs one shoulder loosely. "Too simple. Think of this as adding insult to injury. I've humiliated him, rid him of his allies and worshippers, left him partially blind and weakened. Thoth was my target at the pyramid, not Horus. But I wanted him to watch from inside that cage, to feel helpless and powerless as I destroyed the last few ties to his privileged life. Losing everything is the only way to gain anything in this world, boy. Weakness is an unacceptable trait in a king and cannot be tolerated for any reason. I wanted him to see the kinds of necessary sacrifices a true king is willing to make for the benefit of his kingdom."

Set shakes his head, a look of disgust crossing his features. "Horus is immature and sentimental, the softness of his father literally bleeding into his character. If he truly believes he can defeat me, I will welcome the challenge. You are his final weakness, an unexpected soft spot he wasn't even aware he had developed. You will be his fatal flaw, the reason for his downfall. When he comes for you, which he will, I'm going to make sure he watches while I kill you. And then, when has absolutely nothing left, I'll kill him too."

Bek glares up at him, the muscles in his jaw clenching tightly. He may not be overly fond of Horus at the moment but this was going too far. "You speak so highly of strength and sovereignty," he grumbles, meeting the desert god's sharp gaze evenly. "But it takes an extraordinarily weak god to steal his powers from others all in the hopes of making himself stronger. A god like that doesn't seem very poweeful to me."

Something dark and murderous flashes across Set's face just then and Bek doesn't have time to even think that maybe taunting the god of chaos isn't such a good idea before his skull is smacked against the stone pillar behind him. The world flashes black for a moment before there's a secondary explosion of pain in his side, the impact hard enough to knock him over again. He's not sure what hit him, a fist or a foot, but whatever it was broke a rib.

For a moment he can't breathe, he just lays there on the floor gasping and doing his best not to lose consciousness. His vision is swimming and he can feel blood matting the hair at the back of his head. The newly broken rib feels like a dagger driving itself deeper and deeper into his chest with every shallow breath and he swallows convulsively a few times to keep from throwing up.

Above him Set stands slowly, regarding him with disdain like he's little more than a troublesome pebble in his shoe. "I tried to warn you," he tells him dismissively as he walks toward the forge. "That smart mouth will do you more harm than good."

Bek watches him walk away, desperately trying to focus on his retreating form. Everything is blurry and large, black blotches keep streaking in and out of his field of vision. He can't be sure if he's actually seeing what it is he thinks he's seeing (questionable visual anomalies and all) but at the end of the hall Set appears to disappear into the molten heart of the forge. He emerges from the pit a few moments later, massive, terrifying, and swathed in gold. The other divine components have been added to his golden armor: metal wings, a glowing brain, the blinding flash of an eye. Bek tries to take it all in but his pain-addled brain has a difficult time accepting all of it.

Set appears above him again suddenly but his face is visible in place of the beastly visage that had been there only a moment before. "Stay here and try not to die," he tells him impassively, his attention focused toward the end of the hall. "I need someone to keep my nephew entertained until I return. Now if you'll excuse me I need to have a word with my father."

There's a deep, thunderous clap of wings that rattles the ground briefly and then Set is gone, leaving Bek alone and still chained to the column. Which is fine with him, honestly, because he kind of doubts he could stand right now if it came down to it. He also doubts he can stay conscious for much longer. After another few seconds of fighting it, he finally gives up and allows darkness to take him.

OOOOO

He dreams about Zaya. Or at least he thinks he dreams about her. The hall is dark and cold, grey flames licking the walls above black stone sconces. There are thrones of grey, withered old men on either wall, their empty eye sockets peering down at the small figures below with no trace of compassion or empathy. They're dried husks, their bodies frail and held together by papyrus-thin skin. Zaya shouldn't be in a place like this.

He finds her near the edge of an abyss, a long, stone peak jutting out over black nothingness. What looks like a door revolves slowly in front of her, one side bright like a summer's day and the other side black and foreboding like smoke rising from a house fire. He calls out to her but she doesn't hear him; she stands frozen near the foot of the walkway.

A voice like dry, brittle tree bark asks what she has to offer for her passage into the afterlife. His heart sinks; she has nothing, she'll be doomed to an afterlife of misery and despair. He calls out to her again, runs toward her, and he knows the dead can't speak to the living but he has to try.

She turns toward him, confused and unsure. He's there but he shouldn't be. Not unless…

"Bek?" her voice comes out as a broken croak, tears welling in her eyes. If he's here it means he's dead too.

He tries to answer her but his own voice is distant and swirled in layers of fog. He's not dead, he's at least reasonably certain of that, but he also figures he's close enough to make an appearance here. He reaches out to her, his hand passing through hers like she's made of mist. He would give anything to hold her one last time.

There's a tremendous crash from the portal ahead of them and the walls shake and tremble on either side. Zaya collapses to her knees, a few of the other souls behind her following suit. There's a flash of movement and the jackal-headed god Anubis runs to the tip of the peak, doing his best to steady the portal to the afterlife. He curses under the strain, the sharp, stone outcrop shuddering beneath his feet.

Zaya tears her attention away from Anubis and looks back at Bek. "Horus is the only one who can fix this," she tells him urgently, her dark eyes locking onto him. "You must help him!"

He shakes his head in denial. She doesn't understand, she doesn't know the kind of god he is. He's a liar and a manipulator; he's not the god she thinks he is.

"He's the only one who can make this right!" Zaya insists, apparently hearing his argument even though he wasn't sure he had said anything out loud to begin with. "You have to trust him!"

But how can they trust him? Horus is driven by vengeance and hatred and pride; his sole purpose is to exact revenge against Set. They can't trust him to fix this when he's still so blinded by personal vendetta.

"Then trust me," Zaya urges him, reaching out in the general direction of his hand. Her hand passes through his again, cool mist passing through vapor. "He needs you."

Her faith in the gods has never ceased to amaze him; even now when there are only a handful of gods left to believe in. He can't let her down, not again. She believes in him and she believes in Horus and for that reason he decides to believe in him again as well. Horus is their only chance and if he fails then they have nothing. He's still uncertain but he dares to believe in Horus again because he believes in Zaya.

The walls tremble again and the dark, gloomy room gets a little darker. Grey tendrils of smoke and fog rush across Zaya's face and she's looking right at him but she can't seem to see him anymore. She calls out to him, her voice lost in swirls of darkness. There are tears in her eyes and he thinks she tells him she loves him but then he can't see her anymore either and the hall is engulfed in darkness.

OOOOO

He jolts awake with a sharp, gasping cough. It sends a shockwave of pain straight through his bruised and broken ribs that leaves him breathless and lightheaded. He looks around the hall, surprised to find it completely empty and silent, a startling reversal from the throngs of activity that had filled it earlier. They'd left him chained to the column, apparently content to leave him there to rot in the desert heat. Too bad he had absolutely no intention of letting that happen.

The chains around his wrists are still painfully tight but he figures he can get out of them easily enough now that no one is hovering over him. Granted, it won't be pretty and it's going to be incredibly painful but desperate times and all. He hasn't had to do this in years but luckily it's not a process that is easily forgotten. You couldn't grow up on the streets and live as a thief without learning how to get out of restraints when the need arose.

It takes several long, painful minutes for the bone in his thumb slips free from the joint with a dull pop. It hurts but he doesn't stop; time is becoming an issue and something he doesn't exactly have the luxury of wasting at the moment. He grits his teeth and rotates his wrist, his dislocated thumb throbbing viciously as he moves his hand. The chains slip down slowly, pulling over bruised skin and swollen joints. The fact that he's sweating, both from heat and pain, aids in the loosening of the chains and after another minute he manages to slip one hand free.

The other wrist comes free much faster and much easier than the first but it's only marginally less painful. His skin has been rubbed completely raw and deep, red ligature marks circle each wrist. It takes a second but he manages to pop his thumb back into the joint (the dull thud as it sinks back into the joint is almost enough to make him sick) and slowly get to his feet.

He has no idea where Horus is but he needs to warn him. He also needs to keep him as far away from here as physically possible. If he comes here like Set thinks he will and he gets captured then this will all have been for nothing. He owes it to Zaya to try even if it seems impossible. Luckily for him, impossible has never really been an issue.

He sways and wobbles for a second longer, fighting against the crushing waves of dizziness that are trying their best to knock him back down. He takes as deep a breath as he can manage, which is both difficult and painful thanks to the broken rib, and it succeeds in clearing some of the spots from his vision. Bracing himself for the task ahead, he takes a shaky step away from the column and staggers down the hall toward the door.

OOOOO

He's at least reasonably certain that pain and exhaustion are causing him to hallucinate. There's no way that what he's seeing is actually happening; it's just not possible. Something massive and shapeless is blocking out over half of the sky, descending down from the heavens in a terrifying amalgamation of scorching atmosphere and infinite rows of dagger-sharp teeth. It's aiming for the Nile, swallowing chunks of water and earth as it moves. It's literally drinking the Nile.

Bek staggers, bounces off a tree, and staggers again. He's staring up at the monstrous beast in disbelief, shaking his head slowly. It's incomprehensible and completely unbelievable; he has a hard time even thinking about what's happening. Horus has no chance of stopping this, no one does. It's the end of the world and he's witnessing it first hand.

A strange, fluttering noise manages to filter through his bewildered thoughts and he turns and looks up to see what looks like a boat being carried by hundreds of birds descending from the sky. Okay, now the level of disbelief is skirting just on the edges of being ludicrous.

Someone is standing in the boat, tall and commanding and regal even when the world crumbles down around him. Bek would recognize the arrogant bastard anywhere. In spite of everything, he finds himself running toward him.

"Horus!" he calls out, his voice getting drowned out by the sounds of the Nile being vacuumed into the mouth of the giant creature plunging from the sky.

The god hears him though, looking over in his direction with a mixture of surprise and confusion. "Bek?" he calls back, stepping off the boat and taking off in a jog toward him.

Running with a broken rib isn't doing him any favors and Bek finds himself stumbling in the soft sand halfway toward the boat. Luckily for him Horus has much longer legs and clears the distance between them easily, coming to a stop in front of the smaller and reaching out to steady him with one hand.

"What are you doing here?" Bek demands breathlessly, leaning into the god's hand unconsciously.

"I came to find you," Horus responds like it's the most obvious answer in the world.

He came for me...he's here...just like Set predicted… Bek shakes his head miserably. "No, no, no. It's a trap. Set is waiting for you; he plans to kill you."

Horus just nods like he had expected and accepted as much. "I know."

This catches Bek by surprise and he frowns Horus. Of all the stupid, oblivious gods… "You knew it was a trap and you came anyway?!" He punches him in the shoulder which does nothing to Horus but nearly succeeds in breaking Bek's hand. He grimaces and glares. "Why?!"

"Like I said, for you." Horus quirks an eyebrow above his eyepatch. "You didn't actually think I was going to let him take you away, did you?"

Bek sways again, partially out of irritation and partially out of pain. "You're an idiot."

Horus smirks and reaches out to steady him again. "I've been called worse." He frowns and looks around, realizing the city is mostly deserted. "How did you get free?" the god asks, large hand bracing his shoulder easily.

"I'm more than capable of slipping a few chains when the need arises," Bek responds, slumping a bit at the waist and struggling to catch his breath. Hot flashes of pain are stabbing through his ribs and his head is throbbing angrily. Taking deep breaths hurts and there's still the faint tang of blood inside his mouth from when he'd been hit earlier.

None of this is lost on Horus and the god frowns darkly, blue eye narrowing in concern. "You're injured," he says simply, his voice grave as he speaks.

"I'm fine," Bek tells him, shaking his head to dismiss the concern. "Just had a friendly chat with your uncle."

At this, Horus's expression darkens even further and Bek notices the way the hand on his shoulder tightens protectively. "Set will pay for this," he vows, moving his hand from Bek's shoulder and reaching out to touch the bruises along his jaw lightly. His fingers sweep over the split lip and the mottled bruises that scatter across his face, something dangerous a little possessive passing over his face. "All of this."

"I'm afraid we have other problems to deal with first," Bek says, glancing away from Horus and looking back at the creature devouring the Nile. The god follows his gaze, his jaw setting in a hard line.

"Set is unleashing Chaos," he explains, eye following the demon's path as it moves slowly across the valley. "He plans to destroy the underworld in order to gain immortality and he's using Apophis to do it."

"I gathered as much," Bek retorts, his eyes still locked onto the creature. "How do we stop him?"

Horus looks back at him then, surprised and more than a little impressed. "You never give up, do you?"

"Only because Zaya told me not to," Bek counters and it comes across sharp and biting. He's still angry at Horus for lying and using him. The world may be on the brink of destruction but he hasn't forgotten that.

The god has the decency to look ashamed at this. "Bek, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied to you. I cannot bring Zaya back to you but I give you my word that if we succeed in defeating Set and restoring balance, I will personally see to it that she finds the greatest possible joy in the afterlife."

He reaches out and lays a gentle hand on the mortal's shoulder again, feeling the slight shudder of repressed grief and sorrow beneath his palm. "I realize this is a small comfort but I will make sure she finds peace. I swear it on my life."

It's a crushing blow to realize that Zaya is truly gone forever, that even after all of this she won't be able to return. Bek wants to be angry and heartbroken, he wants to be able to grieve and mourn her death properly because he's come under the sudden realization that ever since it happened, he hasn't had time to process it. He wants Zaya back even if it meant he could trade his life for her own. He wants all of these things but he knows they'll have to wait because there are other concerns to attend to at the moment. Namely, the end of the world.

He sighs and nods slightly in acceptance. The breakdown will come later; right now they need to figure out how to stop Set. "What's your plan then?"

Horus smirks at him and looks back toward the massive obelisk towering up toward the heavens. "I think it's time we go fishing."

Thanks so much for reading guys! :D

Once again, the ending is supposed to feed right into the end of the movie when they go to fight Set so it all becomes canon compliant after the last line.

Also, here's a link to the fandom page if anyone is interested: .org

It's a very wee community but we would welcome all new guests! ^_^