[DISCONTINUED UFN] BENEATH SANDS OF BLOOD ⟶ THE MUMMY 1999/2017

𝐯𝐢 ⟶ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

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"She is the rightful Queen, Your Majesty, and you
are the rightful Pharaoh, her son."

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THE LUXOR MUSEUM, LUXOR
1926

THE NIGHT WAS QUIET. Had Curator Akil Ibrahim looked up from the papers littering his desk, he would have perhaps realized that it was too quiet. There was no distant chirping of crickets, no hum of the night security guard as he made his rounds. In fact, deadly silence reigned.

But the man buried in his paperwork did not bother to look up. He had received quite a lot of mail that day, mostly fellow curators writing to him eager to know of any new finds in Egypt. A few from fans of the museum who thought their contribution should earn them special status. And finally, one more note remained on his desk.

It was a notecard, made of manila, and on the front, it had a strange symbol stamped on it. A few characters, but ones the curator would recognize anywhere. Archaic Egyptian. Symbols that even in the time of Cleopatra would have been considered ancient. It was a sign he knew all too well, and the card trembled slightly as he unfolded it.

Scrawled in simple handwriting, there were three words. He swallowed hard, whispering a soft prayer in Arabic to himself.

It was time.

The curator hurriedly stood from his desk, nearly knocking over a few pieces of mail, and opened a drawer. Deep within it, he found what he was looking for - a small book of hidden spells. Copied word for word from the Book of the Dead, the spell held the power to fulfill the wishes of the notecard's sender. So he unfolded the paper, and moved swiftly through the museum. He took a torch with him, swallowing hard again.

But as he and his brethren knew, the wishes of the Queen must be fulfilled. What she demanded, she was given, and he knew any failure to comply would result in his death. Akil Ibrahim should have been terrified that she threatened death, but instead he felt calmer now. There was a new world coming, and loyalty to the Queen would be rewarded richly.

He found his way into the Hall of the Ancients, where the three predominant cultures of Egypt, Greece and Rome were located. He ignored the other two, opting for the Egyptian hall, and he moved in swiftly. He soon found his quarry and set the torch down in a sconce nearby, taking a deep breath. The alarms were off because he was here, so he wasn't worried about smashing the glass of this exhibit.

Once the shattered pieces of glass lay scattered around him, Akil turned his eyes to the paper.

"Ahm kum Ra." A breath, a quiet shifting of his stance. "Ahm kum Dei."

The noise of Ramesses II coming back was a pure, unfiltered shriek. He lunged out of his sarcophagus with a snarl, and Akil found himself underneath the enraged creature, gasping for air.

"Wait!" He pleaded. "Your Majesty, I have a message for you. From your mother!"

"My mother?" The undead creature rasped after a moment. He cocked his head, but let the curator go. "What news have you, mortal?"

"Your mother has summoned you. To Hamunaptra. I am at your service, Your Majesty, and. . ." He paused, hoping no one would overhear. "As are the followers of your mother, my lord."

"And what makes you so loyal to her? Or to me?" He rasped again.

"The world will be remade in your mother's way," he replied, head bowed in respect. "We follow her because we believe she was wrongly driven off. She is the rightful Queen, Your Majesty, and you are the rightful Pharaoh, her son."