Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

God. I'm so sorry. Sorry...
Steven, let's go.
The Scales are slowing down. It's working.
I didn't shoot you.
Gabon. New York, Dubai.
MARC: Whoa.
Milwaukee... Milwaukee Avenue? Does that sound familiar?
You told me that you were in a place that was oddly reminiscent of this office,
The Scales.
Marc, you've got this.
Do you think you created Steven
STEVEN: Boys?
Unbalanced souls are being judged or condemned to the sands before their time.
I don't... This is my room.
-If we can't calmly... -(SCREAMS)
talking dead bird, you're outside of my body now.
-Um, fellas? -(MACHINERY RUSTLING)
It's like they each feel incomplete.
(METAL CLINKS)
(RUMBLING)
or your souls will be destroyed.
So what?
Kinda looks a bit like Mayfair. I think...
I'm so sorry. Your Scales never balanced.
Where am I?
So, like, right through these doors, for example,
No, no, no! You can't! I won't do it!
You have to get out of here!
(GROANS)
MARC: (SCOFFS) A warrior.
STEVEN: I hear you!
In exchange for your life,
STEVEN: Sorry, what?
Honestly, I do.
WENDY: Marc, open this door right now!
I should've known you would do something like this.
We won.
(KNOCKING AT DOOR)
Clearly.
(ORCHESTRAL MUSIC PLAYING)
She's not coming.
Steven!
I'm not giving you that satisfaction.
That's why we have to resurrect her.
Right here, right now. I'll tell you...
Oh, God. Oh, no.
MARC: Steven!
TAWERET: (GASPS) Your Scales are balanced.
It's good to see you again.