Abydos
The City of Osiris
Sous and Luna are walking through the city after spending days observing courts and judges.
Sous is already questioning the legal system.
Then he notices something.
A girl.
Around their age.
Maybe ten or eleven.
Thin.
Dirty.
Carrying baskets far too heavy for someone her size.
What catches his attention isn't her appearance.
It's the chain around her ankle.
Luna notices him stop.
"What's wrong?"
Sous doesn't answer immediately.
He's watching.
The girl lowers her head whenever one of the men speaks.
No eye contact.
No hesitation.
Like she's been trained to fear mistakes.
Luna follows his gaze.
"Do you know her?"
"No."
"Then why are we standing here?"
Sous narrows his eyes.
"Because something feels wrong."
So they watch.
For a while.
Then three men begin talking nearby.
One complains about expenses.
Another jokes that at least they got a worker from the old war.
The third laughs.
Says something like:
"Best thing that war ever gave me."
That line is what clicks for Sous.
Not because slavery exists.
Because he realizes the girl wasn't involved in that war.
She wasn't even alive.
"She wasn't captured."
Luna looks at him.
"What?"
Sous points toward the girl.
"She was born into it."
The realization bothers him more than he'd like to admit.
A court could justify a prisoner.
A criminal.
A war captive.
But someone born into punishment?
Punished for something they never did?
His stomach twists.
Later they try finding her parents.
They spend hours asking questions.
Looking around.
Searching.
Nothing.
Then eventually they find the answer.
And it's worse.
One evening they hear shouting.
They turn a corner.
The girl is on the ground.
One of the men stands over her.
The other two watch.
Laughing.
The man grabs her by the hair.
Demanding obedience.
Demanding gratitude.
Demanding submission.
The girl says nothing.
Then one of the men laughs.
"Just like her mother."
Another laughs harder.
"Should've killed her too."
The first man spits on the ground.
"We did kill her parents."
The world becomes silent.
Not for everyone.
For Sous.
Everything narrows.
Everything slows.
Luna sees it happen.
She sees his jaw tighten.
His fists close.
The way his eyes change.
Not rage.
Something colder.
Judgment.
The man continues talking.
Never realizing what's behind him.
Then—
A massive hammer crashes into his ribs.
The impact launches him through a stone wall.
The other two don't even have time to react.
Luna is already moving.
One receives a kick to the throat.
The second crashes into a market stall.
Sous walks toward the man.
Slowly.
Purposefully.
The Judgment Hammer drags behind him.
Leaving cracks in the stone.
The man tries crawling away.
Begging.
Apologizing.
Promising anything.
Sous ignores all of it.
He places the hammer against the man's chest.
The contract activates.
For a moment.
Sous sees his soul.
Every action.
Every choice.
Every cruelty.
Every murder.
Every lie.
Every laugh.
Every excuse.
The soul is rotten.
Twisted.
Hollow.
A monster wearing human skin.
The hammer rises.
The man begins screaming.
Luna watches carefully.
Not intervening.
Not speaking.
Because she understands.
Sous isn't deciding whether the man deserves death.
He's deciding whether he has the right to give it
The hammer hangs in the air.
For several seconds.
Then lowers.
"No."
The man stares.
Confused.
Terrified.
Sous turns away.
"The judgment isn't mine."
The words surprise even him.
Because a week ago he would've crushed the man's skull
Instead they drag the three men to local authorities.
Then return to the girl.
The girl flinches when they approach.
Sous kneels.
Trying to appear less intimidating.
"What's your name?"
Silence.
Then:
"Moxie.
Luna smiles.
"A pretty name."
The girl looks at them.
Suspicious.
Confused.
Hopeful.
All at once.
And for the first time in years…
Someone smiles at her without wanting something.
…
Saijew enters the archives.
No dramatic music.
No secret mission.
Just curiosity.
Which is always more dangerous.
He reviews reports.
Contracts.
Psychological evaluations.
Medical records.
Power assessments.
Thousands of pages.
Then he reaches Sous.
Father:
Egyptian.
Mother:
Greek.
Saijew pauses.
Just for a second.
Then keeps reading.
His expression changes.
Barely.
Because he remembers something.
An old military project.
A forbidden one.
A weapon developed decades ago.
A vial.
A substance.
Something capable of amplifying hatred within Greek bloodlines.
Turning allies into enemies.
Friends into killers.
Families into monsters.
Then he remembers Sous's rampage.
The timing.
The symptoms.
The loss of control.
The violence.
It fits.
Almost perfectly.
"Interesting…"
Then he reaches Sofia's file.
Father:
Egyptian.
Mother:
Egyptian.
Saijew freezes.
"That makes no sense."
Everyone knows they're siblings.
Sofia and Sous have known since childhood.
The palace knows.
"The recruits know, the Pharaoh knows."
Yet the records disagree.
He checks again.
Same result.
No Greek blood.
No connection.
Nothing.
For the first time all day…
Saijew feels uneasy.
Not because he found something.
Because he found too little.
Something is missing.
And missing information is often more dangerous than false information.
So he closes the file.
Leaves the archive.
And heads toward the only person who might unknowingly have the answer.
Sofia.
Sofia sat alone beneath the moonlight, staring toward the Nile.
Footsteps approached from behind.
She smiled faintly.
"General?"
Saijew stopped beside her.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then the old general looked toward the river.
"Sofia…"
His voice was calm.
Casual.
Almost ordinary.
"I'd like to ask you a few questions about your family."
The request caught her off guard.
"My family?"
"Your parents."
Sofia blinked.
"What about them?"
Saijew folded his arms.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
The question felt strange.
"Years ago."
"Do you remember much?"
Sofia looked back toward the river.
Fragments surfaced.
A warm voice.
A small house.
A lullaby.
A hand brushing through her hair.
Then everything became blurred.
Palace life.
Training.
Contracts.
War.
"Not really."
Saijew nodded slowly.
"And Sous?"
Sofia frowned.
"What about him?"
The general finally looked at her.
His expression remained calm.
Almost too calm.
"How certain are you that he's your brother?"
Sofia stared.
For a moment she thought she had misheard him.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"Of course he's my brother."
Saijew said nothing.
The silence annoyed her.
Sofia stood.
"He is."
"I didn't say he wasn't."
"Then why ask?"
The general's eyes narrowed slightly.
Because he genuinely didn't know.
And that frightened him more than he cared to admit.
Yet he wasn't ready to say that.
Not until he had more than a feeling.
More than paperwork.
More than questions.
So instead he rose to his feet.
"Forget I asked."
Sofia crossed her arms.
"I'm not going to forget you randomly questioning whether my brother is my brother."
A faint chuckle escaped him.
"Fair enough."
Then he turned.
Walking back toward the city.
Leaving Sofia standing alone beneath the moonlight.
Confused.
Uncomfortable.
And suddenly wondering why she remembered so little about her childhood.
—
Elsewhere within Abydos.
Sous sat outside a small temple courtyard.
Moxie slept nearby beneath a blanket Luna had purchased earlier that evening.
The girl hadn't spoken much since they rescued her.
But she no longer flinched every time someone approached.
Progress.
Small progress.
Yet progress nonetheless.
Luna sat beside Sous.
Watching the sleeping girl.
"She's safe."
Sous nodded.
"For now."
"You did a good thing."
His eyes remained fixed on the ground.
"No."
Luna raised an eyebrow.
"No?"
"I did what should've already happened."
The answer didn't surprise her.
It sounded exactly like him.
Sous stared at his reflection in a nearby pool.
The city's lights shimmered across the water.
Distorting his image.
"I almost killed him."
Luna's voice softened.
"But you didn't."
"I wanted to."
"I know."
Sous clenched his fists.
"The hammer showed me everything."
His voice grew quieter.
"Everything."
Luna remained silent.
Letting him speak.
"He murdered people."
"Yes."
"He enjoyed it."
"Yes."
"He laughed about it."
Luna's expression darkened.
She remembered that part.
Sous looked toward the sleeping girl.
"I still wanted to kill him."
The words carried no pride.
Only concern.
The realization bothered him.
Because for years he would've considered that reaction justified.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Luna leaned back against the temple wall.
"You know what I think?"
Sous sighed.
"You always tell me anyway."
A small smile appeared on her face.
"I think justice would've been easy if you killed him."
Sous looked at her.
Luna continued.
"I think choosing not to was harder."
The words lingered.
Neither spoke afterward.
The night itself seemed to absorb them.
For the first time since arriving in Abydos, Sous felt something unfamiliar.
Not certainty.
Not conviction.
Doubt.
And somehow that doubt felt healthy.
Like a wound finally healing correctly.
—
Far beyond Egypt.
Far beyond the Nile.
Across the Mediterranean Sea.
A hooded figure stood atop a cliff overlooking the Greek coastline.
Ancient ruins surrounded them.
The wind pulled at their cloak.
Below, hidden among the mountains, rested Valerie, Calix, and the children.
The figure observed quietly.
Patiently.
As though waiting for the correct moment.
Then a second figure appeared beside them.
"You found them?"
The hooded observer nodded.
"Yes."
"And?"
The first figure looked toward the distant sanctuary.
"They have no idea what they're carrying."
The second figure fell silent.
Below them, the children continued sleeping.
Unaware.
Vulnerable.
Important.
The hooded observer slowly turned away from the cliff.
"Good."
A pause followed.
Then:
"Keep watching."
And together they vanished into the darkness.
Leaving only the sound of the wind behind.
Far away, beneath the stars of Greece, events were already beginning to move toward something far larger than any of them realized.
Morning arrived slowly over Egypt.
Golden sunlight spilled across the rooftops of Abydos, painting the ancient city in shades of amber and gold. Merchants prepared their stalls. Priests opened temple gates. Citizens flooded the streets.
Life continued.
As if war did not exist.
As if children were not disappearing.
As if kingdoms were not preparing to clash.
Sous sat awake long before sunrise.
He hadn't slept much.
The events involving Moxie lingered in his thoughts.
The man.
The hammer.
The choice.
The judgment.
Questions without answers.
A familiar problem.
Nearby, Moxie sat quietly eating bread Luna had purchased earlier.
The young girl looked healthier already.
Still cautious.
Still silent.
But healthier.
That mattered.
Luna emerged from the small inn carrying a clay cup.
"You look terrible."
Sous accepted the cup.
"Good morning to you too."
She sat beside him.
"Still thinking?"
"Always."
Luna smirked.
"That's your problem."
"No."
Sous glanced toward Moxie.
"My problem is everyone else's problems keep becoming mine."
Luna laughed.
For the first time all morning, Sous smiled.
Only slightly.
But it counted.
Then Moxie spoke.
Her voice was so quiet both recruits nearly missed it.
"Thank you."
Sous froze.
Luna blinked.
The girl lowered her gaze.
Almost embarrassed.
"I never said it."
Neither knew what to say.
So Luna did what Luna usually did.
She smiled.
"You're welcome."
Moxie nodded.
Then returned to her food.
As if speaking more than two words had exhausted her.
Sous watched her carefully.
And something finally clicked.
For years he'd believed justice meant punishment.
Now he wasn't so sure.
Perhaps justice also meant protection.
Perhaps it meant preventing suffering before punishment became necessary.
The realization lingered.
Uncomfortable.
Yet strangely satisfying.
—
Several hundred miles away.
Within Neb-Desheret.
The City of the Red Throne.
General Saijew had not slept.
The old soldier stood inside the palace archives once more.
Scrolls covered the table before him.
Records.
Birth certificates.
Military reports.
Adoption documents.
Census logs.
Anything he could find.
Most led nowhere.
Some contradicted each other.
Others appeared incomplete.
That bothered him.
Official records should not be incomplete.
Not inside the Pharaoh's archives.
Especially not records involving recruits.
His fingers stopped upon a familiar name.
Sofia.
He read the document again.
Then again.
And again.
The answer remained unchanged.
Egyptian father.
Egyptian mother.
No mention of Greek ancestry.
None.
Yet Sous undeniably possessed Greek blood.
His rampage had proven it.
Saijew leaned back in his chair.
Thinking.
The answer sat somewhere in front of him.
He could feel it.
Like a piece of a puzzle hidden beneath the table.
Then another document caught his attention.
A transfer order.
Old.
Very old.
Years before the current recruits had arrived.
Saijew narrowed his eyes.
The signature at the bottom belonged to the Pharaoh.
Strange.
The transfer itself wasn't unusual.
Children were moved frequently.
Yet one detail bothered him.
Several names had been removed.
Not crossed out.
Not erased.
Rewritten.
As if someone wanted the originals forgotten.
Saijew stared at the parchment.
Then carefully rolled it shut.
Something wasn't right.
He still lacked enough evidence to accuse anyone.
Especially the Pharaoh.
But for the first time in many years…
General Saijew felt uncertain.
And uncertainty was dangerous.
—
Meanwhile.
Across the Mediterranean.
Valerie awoke to screaming.
She sat upright instantly.
Sword already in hand.
The sanctuary erupted into chaos.
Children rushed from their sleeping areas.
Panicked voices echoed through the ruins.
Calix appeared moments later.
"What happened?"
One of the older boys pointed toward the mountain path.
"There!"
Valerie turned.
Her eyes narrowed.
Footprints.
Fresh ones.
Many.
Far too many.
Someone had approached during the night.
And someone had gotten close.
Very close.
Calix knelt beside the tracks.
Examining them.
His expression darkened immediately.
"These aren't local."
Valerie felt her stomach sink.
The footprints headed toward the sanctuary.
Not away from it.
Toward it.
Meaning whoever made them had intentionally approached.
Watched.
Observed.
Then left.
The twins exchanged a glance.
Neither liked what that meant.
One of the younger children spoke.
"Are they coming back?"
Silence followed.
Valerie forced herself to smile.
A difficult task.
"Not if we find them first."
The children seemed reassured.
Calix wasn't.
Neither was Valerie.
Because someone now knew where they were.
And hidden sanctuaries stopped being sanctuaries once they were discovered.
—
Back in Egypt.
Magnolia stood atop a balcony overlooking Bubastis.
Below him, children played in the streets.
A father carried his daughter upon his shoulders.
A mother scolded two boys chasing cats through a marketplace.
Ordinary life.
Again.
His fingers found the necklace around his neck.
The one his father had given him.
The metal felt warm beneath the morning sun.
For once, remembering no longer hurt.
Not in the same way.
The pain remained.
But it had changed.
His father's death was no longer simply a wound.
It was a promise.
A responsibility.
A reason.
Someone stepped beside him.
Emma.
Neither spoke immediately.
The breeze gently moved her hair.
She followed his gaze toward the city below.
"They look happy."
Magnolia nodded.
"They do."
Emma smiled softly.
"I think that's why we fight."
Magnolia looked at her.
She rarely sounded this confident.
This certain.
Yet she continued.
"Not for revenge."
The breeze shifted.
"We fight so people get to live like that."
Below them, laughter echoed through the streets.
Magnolia watched quietly.
Then smiled.
A genuine smile.
Small.
But real.
"I think you're right."
Neither noticed the figure watching from a nearby rooftop.
Hidden.
Silent.
Observing.
The stranger's gaze lingered on Magnolia.
Then Emma.
Then the necklace around Magnolia's neck.
For a brief moment the observer seemed surprised.
Then they disappeared.
Gone before either child could notice.
And somewhere far away…
plans began to change.