[Egypt] [Night]
At the base of a half-buried pyramid, floodlights illuminated a dig site buzzing with activity. A team of archaeologists moved carefully among ancient stones, their voices low but filled with awe.
Dr. Rashid Al-Karim, the expedition leader, adjusted his glasses and studied the hieroglyphs carved into a newly exposed chamber wall. The torchlight flickered across depictions of gods and warriors, but these were different. The figures were distorted, their bodies tall and angular, their heads crowned with strange halos of fire. One central figure loomed over all the others, his eyes carved so deep they seemed to follow Rashid wherever he moved.
"This is not a burial record," Rashid whispered, brushing away sand from the symbols. "The looks like some kind of warning."
Beside him, Dr. Evelyn Marks, the site's translator, frowned as she ran her hand over the same carvings. "These glyphs are older than anything in the pyramid. Pre-dynastic. Maybe older than civilization itself. And here—" She traced her finger across a repeating symbol, a circle pierced by four lines, etched into stone again and again. "This is not Egyptian. This is something else. These people are worshipping a God or some kind of priest. But here, they are killing him for what looks like tyranny... tyrant? I need time to decipher these records."
The team had all the equipment: radar, portable arc generators, reinforced drills and other necessary equipment. A set of monitors buzzed nearby, mapping out hollow spaces deep below the pyramid. One chamber pulsed bright on the display, larger than anything they had mapped before.
Rashid turned to the crew. "We are opening it tonight. If this chamber is untouched, it could rewrite history."
The drills bit into the stone. Dust filled the air, clouding the lights. Hours passed, sweat soaking through shirts despite the cool desert night. Finally, the last slab gave way. A hidden passage yawned open before them, black and deep, as if the earth itself had been keeping it secret for millennia.
The team descended with ropes and lights. The passage walls were smooth, not carved by hand but melted, as if something had burned its way through solid rock. Evelyn touched the stone, then pulled her hand back. It was warm.
"This is impossible," she murmured. "I've never seen anything like this before."
The tunnel opened into a cavernous chamber, untouched by time. Massive pillars rose to the ceiling, carved with symbols older than language. At the center of the chamber lay a colossal sarcophagus of black stone, etched with the same circle-and-lines symbol. Its surface shimmered faintly in the light, like the glow of dying embers.
30 minutes later...
The cavern smelled of dust and age, the kind of air that had not been touched by breath in ten thousand years. Floodlights washed the black sarcophagus in pale light, and every archaeologist present felt the same weight pressing on their lungs. The tomb was not merely old. It was oppressive, as if the stone itself wanted to push them back.
Rashid Al-Karim ignored the unease. He had waited his entire life for a discovery that would secure his place in history, and this was it. Cameras, scanners, and monitors were placed around the chamber, their wires snaking across the floor. Workers marked the perimeter with chalk, mapping the place. Some were recording and snapping pictures.
Evelyn Marks was reading the murals on the tomb. Her eyes scanned every line of the carvings, her hands tracing the grooves. The repeating symbol of the circle pierced by four lines appeared again and again, always at the edge of the script, like a ward meant to hold something in place. She translated what fragments she could, scribbling notes furiously.
Her lips moved as she pieced together the fragments. "...not a king... not a god... a tyrant. Bound beneath the earth... must never wake... must never..."
She stopped.
"Dr. Marks," Rashid called out. "Any progress? What do the inscriptions say?"
Evelyn hesitated, then swallowed. "This isn't a tomb. It's a warning. Whoever they buried here, they feared him. They tried to erase him from history. These aren't hymns. They are pleas."
Rashid gave a short laugh, waving her words away. "Every civilization feared death. They built myths to keep it at bay. This is no different. What lies here is beyond myth. Look at it. A sarcophagus of solid stone, untouched by time. There's a possibility that its occupant is perfectly preserved. Imagine what we could learn."
The workers, however, exchanged nervous glances. They were men who lived by superstition as much as by wage. The desert was full of stories, and none ended well for those who ignored warnings carved in stone.
Still, Rashid's authority kept them moving. Hours dragged on as they examined every inch of the sarcophagus. There was no lid, no seam, no mechanism of entry. The black stone was flawless, its surface smooth as glass.
Finally, Rashid ordered the drills to be brought down. The machines roared against the silence of the chamber, their bits sparking against the strange material. But no matter how long they pressed, the drills left nothing but scorched marks. The stone resisted as if it had been forged from something beyond the earth.
After fifteen minutes of drilling nonstop, they managed to get only a chunk of rock, and for some reason, the drills stopped working. The tech expert checked on it, and it was some kind of glitch in the power supply.
Frustration mounted. Rashid paced, snapping at the workers. Sweat gleamed on his face in the artificial lights. "We will do it the old way. Hammer and chisel. Carve it apart stone by stone if we must."
Reluctantly, the workers obeyed. They gathered hammers, chisels, and iron rods, then surrounded the sarcophagus. Each strike rang through the cavern like the toll of a bell. Chips of black stone flaked away, releasing faint sparks. Dust clung to the air.
'Weird! It's working with manual labor when the high-powered drills failed?" Rashid thought. Then he dismissed the thought, thinking that the drilling must have weakened the structure.
Evelyn stood apart, her face pale. Every hammer strike seemed to echo inside her skull, a drumbeat that did not belong to the living. She could not shake the feeling that something within the sarcophagus was listening.
Hours passed. The chisels carved grooves into the top, creating the outline of an opening. The stone fought them, but progress was made inch by inch. Rashid urged them on, his eyes feverish with ambition.
Finally, with a coordinated heave, the workers struck together. A crack spread across the surface with a deep, resonant sound that silenced the room. For a heartbeat, no one moved. The chamber itself seemed to hold its breath.
Then the slab shifted. Slowly, the top of the sarcophagus lifted.
A wave of air poured out, stale and heavy, yet carrying with it a faint metallic tang that made every throat dry. The floodlights flickered, though the generators above ground hummed without interruption.
The workers backed away instinctively, crossing themselves, muttering prayers in Arabic. Evelyn clutched her notebook so tightly her knuckles turned white. Rashid alone stepped forward, his face shining with awe.
Inside the sarcophagus lay a figure.
The body was massive, far larger than any human. Its skin was the color of stone, marked with patterns that glowed faintly like molten lines. The figure was armored, though the armor looked fused to its very flesh. Its eyes were closed.
But the chest rose.
Barely... Faintly...
Breath.
Someone screamed. The sound broke the spell, and panic rippled through the workers. They stumbled back toward the ropes, shouting in terror. Rashid barked at them, trying to calm them, but his own voice shook.
The figure's eyelids fluttered.
A low hum filled the chamber. The symbols on the sarcophagus blazed with golden light, then cracked apart, the stone crumbling as if it could no longer contain what it held. Dust rained from the ceiling. The floodlights surged, then burst, plunging the chamber into darkness.
In the pitch black, only one thing shone: the white eyes of the figure.
A voice rolled through the cavern, deep and resonant, though the lips barely moved. It spoke in ancient Egyptian.
"ink ʿn Šbḥ Nūr... tpj. ḥˁḥ. gm nfr."
The workers screamed. Some bolted for the passage, clawing at ropes in blind panic. But they never reached the surface.
The air shifted, thick and heavy. A force pressed down on them, rooting them in place. Their bodies trembled as though invisible hands had seized their bones. One by one they fell to their knees, gasping as the very life drained from their veins.
Apocalypse rose from the sarcophagus, towering, his body radiating power. The carvings on his skin flared as he extended one hand. Wisps of pale light tore from the archaeologists, streams of energy drawn out of mouths and eyes and hearts. Their screams rose, then cut short as their bodies withered.
Skin shriveled. Bones cracked. In seconds, strong men became husks, empty shells crumbling to dust on the chamber floor. Their life essence flowed into Apocalypse, feeding him, restoring what centuries had eroded. His armor gleamed, his form grew stronger, his eyes blazed brighter.
Rashid staggered forward, tears streaking his face. "We came to honor you! We came to awaken history! To know the truth!"
Apocalypse's gaze fell upon him.
"kꜣi̯.k pḥty.k m rꜥw." ["You have awakened your own end."]
Rashid convulsed as his body rose from the ground, suspended by unseen power. His scream echoed once, then cut into silence as his essence was consumed. His body fell empty to the stone, nothing more than a discarded husk.
Evelyn alone remained. She had not fled, though terror locked her in place. Her notebook slipped from her fingers, pages scattering across the floor. She could barely breathe as Apocalypse turned toward her.
"ḫft.k mdw nṯr. šꜣ.k ẖr.w n ḫftjw jri̯.n sḏm ḥr.j. ḏr.sn wi mꜣꜥt. nḥḥ ḫpr m ḥqꜣw. ḥnk.k m-ꜥḥꜥ. ḏd.k mꜣꜥt. ḥr.k šsp.sn rḫt.k wi ḫpr."
["You carry knowledge. You read the marks of those who dared defy me. They bound me once. But no chain holds forever. You shall live... for now. You will speak of what you have seen. You will tell them I have returned."]
The cavern trembled as if the earth itself shuddered at his words. Stone cracked. Sand poured from the ceiling. The black sarcophagus split apart completely, fragments flying like broken teeth.
Apocalypse spread his arms wide. Power surged outward in a ripple of force. The last thing Evelyn saw before fainting was his towering form, glowing like a god reborn, absorbing the life of all who had disturbed him.
When silence returned, only one living soul remained on the chamber floor, lying unconscious among the dead.
Apocalypse was gone.
Sizzzle! A sizzling sound filled the air as a green portal opened.
A man in a green robe emerged from it. His face was hidden behind a silver mask. His eyes scanned the area, then fell on the unconscious girl. He bent down and checked her pulse. She was still alive.
"The age of Apocalypse and the Horsemen has begun..."
He stood up and looked up at the hole in the ceiling. His eyes glowed green as he clenched his fists. On his right hand was a crystal pendant that was glowing with a purple hue.
"Time to hunt a God."
---
AN: Next couple of chs will be focused on Tony and girls. Slice of life, Mars expansion, and then we'll come to this new threat.
---
...[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS]...
If you like my work, you can support me on>: www.patr 15 advance chapters] <No double billing>