[The mention of 'marks' hits Steven a little harder than it should. Secret agent shit sounds about right; that's roughly the same as mercenary shit, right? But deep down, he knows that's not the only origin those scars could have. Some of them are just too old. Either way, they're Marc's marks, not his.

The way the conversation continues isn't helping any, either. He huffs out a large breath, shifting in his seat.]

It is messy. But it's still powers, innit? [There's a brief pause, then he plunges onward.] I know all about gods, trust me. Mr. Knight got his powers 'cause of a deal with Khonshu. Egyptian god of the night sky. The old bird needed an avatar to exact his personal brand of justice on Earth. But yep, that came with a price. Marc was the one paying up, actually.