"It was right there pressed up against my bum! You pervert!" Steven accuses, shooting Marc a dirty look. He's still glaring warily at the drawer, as though any moment it's going to slide out by itself and dry ice-like smoke will start pouring out of it and Ammit is going to crawl out of the drawer like a cross between The Ring and the genie from Aladdin.

"But-- but-- does that mean we did it?" Did they save the world? If Ammit's down here with them, then Marc's right. Harrow can't unleash her on the world. That means that-- nobody is here because of them. Which doesn't make dying any better, but. Maybe they can feel less guilty about being complete, utter failures at the one task Khonshu had tasked them to do.

"...we did it. We did it!" Steven exclaims excitedly, tossing the blanket off and lunging at Marc, wrapping his arms around low on Marc's back and tackling him down to his side of the bed.

"We saved the world Marc!" Steven doesn't even care if this boat is headed straight to hell. They didn't die for nothing.