Sarcophagus time!
We all know the scene. Jake is trapped and can’t get out.
But why? This is PRIME Jake time. They are in so much danger and Jake isn’t there to help. Why is Jake locked away?
Let’s rewind.
This is the afterlife according to Marc Spector. This is Marc’s life story. This is Marc’s scales getting balanced. This is Marc’s pain.
Opening in the afterlife, we see Marc seeing skewed versions of Steven’s life. Marc is alone and feeling lost. He is looking for Steven. Perhaps he’s scared and confused. The last thing he felt was probably intense fear for Steven. An intense protectiveness. Getting killed was what Marc thought he wanted. He wanted to fail a mission. He wanted the supposed peace that he thought would come with it.
Yet if you look at the images of him getting shot, his face goes through so many feelings. I think I’ve rewatched that a billion times looking for something that I suspect is there and maybe I’m missing. Or I’m just an obsessed crazy person looking for something that isn’t there.
Marc is fighting. He knows he is outnumbered, he knows he doesn’t have the suit to protect him, and he knows Khonshu isn’t there to revive him…. But he also just had his worst nightmare played out in front of him. Layla knows his secret. She knows he is a murdering monster like he feared. She’s angry with him. She walked away. Marc doesn’t care what happens to him in this moment. He is angry at himself most of all and he doesn’t care if he has a chance, he’s going to fight.
When he gets shot, you see his face in utter surprise. There’s a struggle. A lot of people suspect that Steven briefly flashes there, feeling the pain and surprise, before Marc forcefully takes over and tries to get back up and gets shot again.
But where is Jake? I think Jake was there too. I think maybe if I look hard enough maybe one of those expressions might belong to Jake before Marc again is there, as he sinks into the water. Maybe it’s Jake that tries to get back up to fight before he’s shot again. Maybe it’s Jake that pushes them back into the water to prevent a third shot out of hope that maybe they make it…
Either way, Marc is the one that closes his eyes and drifts away. He’s pushed Steven down in an effort to protect him. He doesn’t want Steven to feel this. He’s locked Steven away. In death, Jake is locked away and prevented from helping Marc.
Marc doesn’t want protection at this point. He doesn’t think he deserves it.
Yet when he wakes up in the hospital without Steven, this is the first time since he was just a scared boy that he’s been alone. He knows he needs help, but most of all, he is afraid of what may happen to Steven.
When he finds the sarcophagus, there are a few BIG bangs. Heavy punches. I mean BIG rattling punches. Then it results to gentle banging and tapping and him screaming to be let out.
Marc is alone. He’s scared. He’s vulnerable. He is just a boy running away. He’s hiding from them. He can’t fight back. Those bangs? Steven is not conscious yet. This is Steven trying to surface. This is Steven trying to front to protect Marc. When that doesn’t work, Steven wakes up and cries for help, letting Marc know it’s him.
This is where Marc makes the choice to let Steven out. To welcome him into his version of the world. Steven is now able to see things as Marc sees them. To see his memories. To go on his journey.
Marc had to welcome Steven in. To let him see him. To let Steven be there for him. It was the first step.
I’d be really curious to know what is written on Steven’s sarcophagus and if someone wants to let me know I’d be so happy…
Because I’ve heard that the next Sarcophagus we come across has words of “Protector” written all over it.
Jake’s sarcophagus is upright. He’s ready to run out. He’s ready to go to action. It’s standing. He’s always there and ready to step in. Steven’s was laying down and almost peaceful. Resting even. Like a true sarcophagus laid to rest. Jake’s looks like it’s already rocked halfway across the room.
The door is open. Inviting them in if they should choose. Again, you hear the banging. This time it starts quieter. There’s a few bangs and rustling. He’s trying to get out himself. LIke he doesn’t want to attract attention. Then as Marc looks into the room, the banging gets louder.
Jake has never been perceived before. He isn’t sure if he’s ready. He isn’t sure if Marc is ready. But Marc is in danger. But not a danger that Jake can handle. Marc’s soul is in danger. And who is the protector of that? Steven is the protector of the spirit and soul.
Marc maybe has always sensed Jake there. Somewhere in the background. Missing time he knew wasn’t Steven. A voice trying to calm him down or lift him up when he’s at his worst. But Marc does not want to know. Much like Steven who thought he was talking to his Mum all this time on the phone. Steven has set himself into a delusion to protect himself. Marc’s delusion is that he does not and is unable to perceive Jake. Knowing Jake would be forcing himself to know just how self destructive he really is.
“Marc has no idea how truly troubled he is.” Because that would be to know Jake. To know Jake is to know that he needs protection from himself.
Marc does not open the sarcophagus. He isn’t ready to let him out. He is not ready to face this too. With Steven at his side, he can face the first part of his journey into healing. He can learn to accept that he is not the monster. That he didn’t deserve all that pain. Steven is there to heal his soul.
Steven points to the sarcophagus and tries to point it out to Marc but Marc has already moved on. Steven is not meant to let Jake out. If he had tried to open it, I think he would have found it locked.
Maybe next time, Jake will be let out and he will wrap his arms around Marc and tell him to stop hurting himself. He doesn’t deserve it. But that isn’t something Marc is ready for yet. And I think Jake knows this. As Marc walks away, the banging stops.
I like to think that he can sense their journey through the Duat. That he can sense Steven helping him. He can feel Marc at peace and then he can feel him coming back for Steven. Perhaps he imagines Marc eventually coming back for him too someday. Perhaps he imagines himself as the hero, lifting Marc out of the sand and through the gates.
And then they are back. They are alive and he can hear the communication suddenly happening between Marc and Steven. He can see them working together and he’s happy for them. He’s hopeful.
But the next time we see Jake? When Marc goes down and is being blasted by Harrow. As Marc’s eyes roll back his mouth twists into a sneer. The look on his face is pure rage. And I am not imagining that one. Cut to skipped time and that place looks like a bomb went off.
Jake might be locked away, but when he steps out… No one shoots his system and gets away with it. He will not fail to protect them again. He will not be left helpless to watch them suffer in doubt again.
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Mememememe I want to see
please enjoy a selection from you're on a path in the desert, chapter 2: 'The Ancient', brought about by wondering what ganondorf's motivation is and being honest and brash enough he kind of likes you and is like 'sorry, kid' while murdering you to attempt a breakout in the first chapter. narrated by Zelda, starring Link and Ganondorf.
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You're on a path in the desert. Or... it's more of a beach, isn't it? You can hear the sea. Small crabs scuttle and hide among rocks smoothed by eons of lapping waves; the pristine sands glitter, here and there, with old coins and jewels set in tarnished metal. Pirate treasures, as if a ship was wrecked here long ago. A lonely blue sky arches high above, unmarred by a single cloud. A path of scattered white rocks, like sun-bleached bones, lead toward the edge of the water. At the end of this path, a man with evil eyes is imprisoned. A king. You, hero, must slay him; or it will be the end of the world.
Voice of the Curious: He didn't seem that bad!
- Yeah, he wasn't as bad as she hyped him up to be.
- Bad? He was very bad! I'm completely on board with the 'slaying' thing now.
- Hang on, how are we here? Didn't we die?
> I see what you mean, but he did very much kill us. That was a thing that happened.
Voice of the Curious: I guess, but he was so... sad. He just wanted to escape. He seemed like he'd been there for a really long time.
> He did.
Excuse me, who's this? And what are you saying about dying? Please don't tell me—
Voice of the Curious : We died and we came back to life!
- More or less.
- I died and it was terrifying and now I'm me and also this other part of me and they're both me and I don't know how that works or what's going on and I'm going to start crying probably
> This isn't the first time we've been here. Your 'man with the evil eyes' was the one that killed me, not the other way around.
He's not mine, and... It wouldn't be the same, the other way around. You need to slay him, not kill him.
- I get it. I'm a human, and he's a monster.
> Semantics.
Very important ones. Listen to me, hero. I hoped that this wouldn't happen, and I didn't want to scare you with the possibility. But please believe me—we're walking a fine line, now. All is not lost, but every failure widens his chance at escape.
Voice of the Curious: Really?
I do not like how you said that. This... voice, whatever it is, it seems very young. Don't let naivety influence you, hero. One failure means he's already found a chink in your armor—it is even more imperative you keep your guard up. Whatever he said, whatever he did, put it out of your mind. Focus on this. He is evil, and he will destroy everything if he escapes. You are the hero, the only one with the power to stop him. I—everything depends on you.
Voice of the Curious : That's a lot of pressure...
- I love pressure.
- I hate pressure.
> Are you really sure I can do this?
Yes. You’re the only one that can.
Voice of the Curious: Wow, she sounds... so serious. I don't know if I trust her, but I think she likes you.
Ha. That's... You matter a great deal to me. By definition, of course. You’re the hero, you matter to everyone. But we don't have time to sit here and talk about our feelings, whatever they might be. Your quest is the same, hero. It's time to go forward.
> (proceed to the prison)
N: At the edge of the water, the path of rocks continue—for a little while. Soon they're fewer and farther between, and in their place are footholds of debris, half-rotted hulls of wood, old chests rammed up on some invisible sandbank below the water. There have been many wrecks here, and as you pick your way forward, you see the largest of them up ahead. Splintered and broken, its massive hull impaled on the tall and jagged rocks that rise from the hidden seabed, like towers of some sunken castle. The rest of it is remarkably intact, but it looks ancient. Weathered, by years that have sapped color from cloth and wood and leached memory from material. Every detail blurred. The figurehead is faceless, nearly formless, like the... like the image of a loved one long forgotten.
> Are you all right?
Your path ends—or rather, takes a new form—at the side of the wreck. An old rope ladder leads up the barnacle-encrusted side. The old wood creaks as you ascend, but even that sound is... muted. This ship isn't just wrecked, it's becalmed. The muting of that sound makes you acutely aware of the absence of others. No birds cry in the sky; no fish splash in the water. The land behind you is already lost in a hazy fog. This is a lonely place.
Voice of the Curious: She's making it sound so depressing. It's sad, but it's also sort of cool, right? It's like an old pirate ship! It doesn't feel like a prison, it feels like... like a hideout!
Please be quiet. It's a prison. It might look... odd, but it's a prison.
Voice of the Curious : Do you think there's treasure?
...No.
Voice of the Curious: ...You want there to be treasure too, right?
I'm not interested. We have a very important job to do. To your left, across the weathered deck, a door leads to the fo'c'sle. It's not locked, but it's encrusted with barnacles, warped in its frame. Beside it, a sword is embedded in the wall, as if left there after a battle long ago. It gleams with its own light—
Voice of the Curious: It's not glowing, though. It's just a sword.
It's not—but... Ah. Yes. Well, it doesn't need to glow, does it? It's the hero's sword. It's made to kill evildoers and monsters. It's meant for your hand, and your hand alone. Take up the sword, hero. You'll need it if you want to save us all.
- But it's not glowing. Didn't you say it was important it glowed?
- What if I don't want to save everyone?
> take up the sword
- don't take up the sword
Sword in hand, you force open the door, rusted hinges screeching as you shove your whole body's weight against it. Before you is a sheer drop, lightless, only the first few feet visible in the foggy sunlight that filters past your shoulders. A rope ladder hangs over the ledge at your feet, vanishing into shadow. The air is musty, damp, and smells of moldering spice and rotting silk, wood permeated with gunsmoke and worried by the icy teeth of the ocean over the course of centuries. If this is the prison the king's been confined in, killing him will be a mercy.
His voice echoes up from the darkness, tired but commanding.
The King: I knew you'd return. Come here, boy. Let us speak face to face.
Voice of the Curious: He remembers us! And he sounds... older. I mean, he was already older than us. But he sounds much older now.
Of course he's old, he's been in prison for a long time. Don't dwell on it or wonder about it, the more time and thought you give him the more dangerous he is. Just get down there and accomplish your quest.
> proceed down the 'stairs'
After what feels like half an hour of nerve-wracking descent, feeling for foot and hand-holds in the darkness, light begins to bloom below you. When you come to the bottom, a few minutes later, you find yourself facing another door—this one richly carved wood, remarkably well-preserved considering the state of the ship. It's hard to make out much in the light filtering through the cracks around it, but you can see intricate, geometric patterns, and the snarling face of a boarlike beast carved huge in the very center.
Voice of the Curious: What—
You waste no time fooling around and asking questions, and open the door. Striding within, you find yourself confronted with a surprisingly lavish room, dimly lit by old oil-lamps. Rich rugs cover the floor; a huge bed stands in the back of the room, partly hidden by curtains, and a huge desk carved with intricate details dominates another side of the room. Tapestries, paintings and maps nearly cover the walls, save for a section that seems dedicated to a number of weapons—at a glance you see twin swords and a trident. Everything feels a little... oversized, as if you're a child venturing into the room of an adult. When you look closer, you can see signs of wear and age—cracking paint, books with pages puffed by soaking and drying out, scratches in the fine wood and dust on the tapestries—but the overall effect is still opulent, overwhelming. This feels right for a prison meant to confine a king; it would be suitable for an emperor, confined to his office by the new regime, allowed to keep a pretense of dignity.
But across the room from you, there's a strangely bare section of the wall, interrupted by only two things: A porthole filled more by spiderwebbing cracks than glass, showing only blank darkness, and the King, who stands tall and studies you thoughtfully with pale gold eyes.
The King: You approach me, yet again, with your blade in hand. Interesting.
He's a big man, broad and heavy, a physique that might impress as brutish or sedentary if not for the way he holds himself. Straight-backed, imperious, with a hint of a fighter's grace in the way his stance shifts as his eyes track the step you take forward. There's no gray in his hair, or deep wrinkles on his face, but something about him gives an impression of great age and greater weariness. His face is craggy, but his eyes are delicately lined with black; he wears a topaz on his brow, and fine robes that inspire ideas of entrenched and confident authority. As he seems to reach an internal resolution in his appraisal of you, his teeth bare in what is hard to determine as a mocking smile or a grimace of pain.
The King: I suppose that if you try to kill me this time, it will only be fair. But I'd rather we talk.
Voice of the Curious: Ooh, talk! Yes! I want to know what's going on! Just, um, maybe we should stay at a distance.
Remember what you're here for. Don't listen to him, or him. Please, hero. Kill him now.
- slay the king
- kill him?
- You killed me last time, I'd like an apology before we do anything else.
> All right. Let's talk.
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