Kiyohime sat stiffly inside her cage, thinking, her dark brown eyes watching everything, memorizing every detail she could.
The guards rode close beside her, mounted on magical horses, while the foot soldiers trudged along the dirt paths.
The deeper they traveled into the heart of the kingdom, the dirtier and rottener the streets became. Sick and dying people lined the roads. Slaves were everywhere.
What had once been a golden city had crumbled into a mud pit.
Kiyohime could feel one of the soldiers eyeing her. The foot soldiers were almost everywhere now, surrounding her at every turn.
As she scanned the streets, she saw the Israelites their tiger tails swaying as they worked, their tiger-striped arms bare under torn clothes.
She also saw other slaves: Goshenites, with red skin and broken horns, and many other human species from distant worlds, dragged here from beyond the stars.
Kiyohime looked down at her own hands and feet, bound tightly in magical crystal shackles.
"I can't easily break this spell," she thought. "Not yet. I need time. That last battle... it drained too much from me."
The cage jolted to a stop.
A foot soldier barked, "Get out!" shoving the cage door open.
Kiyohime stepped out into thick, sucking mud, her ankles sinking with each step.
Ahead loomed a massive, dark building. Water dripped from the cracked ceilings.
Every step echoed the sound of distant screaming cries for help in a hundred different languages.
The guards marched her down twisting hallways, taking sudden turns left and right.
Kiyohime tried to memorize each one, her sharp mind piecing together a map.
Cages lined the walls row after row of broken souls.
Finally, the soldiers wrenched open a cell and shoved her inside.
Kiyohime stumbled forward and looked up.
Inside were Noah, his wife, his daughter, Ham, Inanna, and Hunter.
"Are you okay?" Kiyohime whispered urgently.
Hunter opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated, feeling the weight of failure pressing down on him.
"Why am I so weak?" he thought bitterly. " All it took was for the sins to stop time, and I was powerless... Now we're all trapped."
Hunter moved closer, reaching out, but Kiyohime touched his back gently.
"It's not your fault," she said softly. "The Seven Deadly Sins are powerful... too powerful for now. But we'll find a way."
She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"Calm down, Hunter. We need to focus. We need to find Adamus."
"He's not with you?" Hunter asked quickly. "They didn't capture him?"
"No," Kiyohime said. "At least, I don't think so. Wrath one of the Seven Deadly Sins attacked him. It happened so fast... they vanished from the battlefield. I don't know where he is. But I have faith."
She clenched her fists.
"He will find us. I know he's alive. He can beat them all even alone."
Hope flickered in Hunter's eyes.
"You're right," he said. "We need to escape."
Noah moved closer, his face grave.
"Yes, but we need to gather everyone," he said urgently. His voice trembled, panic creeping in.
"Remember the world is still ending. The End Times... it's coming. Black and white energy, swallowing everything in its path. If we don't leave soon, there'll be nothing left to save."
A nearby guard turned, overhearing the words.
"The end of the world?" the soldier barked. "What are you talking about?"
Kiyohime said nothing, her face cold and calm.
She only shot Noah a warning glance and whispered,
"Keep your voice down."
"I'm sorry," Noah said, his voice raw. "But my lord told me it's my duty. I have to save everyone. We have to get them all on the boat... especially the Israelites. Where's Moses?"
Kiyohime turned to him, her dark brown eyes steely.
"Everything isn't just about you, Noah," she said quietly. "We have to get back home to our world. We have to reach the center of the hyperverse."
She inhaled sharply.
"Moses... I told him to leave in the middle of the battle. They captured me instead. I sent him to find Adamus."
Before more could be said, the iron door of the cell creaked open with a thunderous clang.
The foot soldiers marched in humanoid, yet monstrous. Thick, sharpened horns jutted from their foreheads, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly as they moved. Their crescent-shaped khopesh swords gleamed, the hieroglyphs carved into them catching the dim torchlight. Their rectangular shields bore the radiant crest of Pharaoh Thutmose III. Every step they took was sharp, deliberate no wasted motion.
Behind them glided the High Magi the Harṭummîm. They were draped in crimson and black, armored at the joints but otherwise flowing like tattered shadows. Rings of golden glyphs orbited their arms some burning, others rotting twisting the stale air around them. Their horns spiraled upward like arcane antennae, and glowing tattoos slithered across their faces, sparking alive with every breath they took. They hovered inches above the stone floor, never making a sound as they moved.
One of the foot soldiers barked,
"Any wrong move will activate the crystal chains around you. You will be shocked with magic. Now separate! Men and children to one side, women to the other! Israelites and others apart!"
The prisoners hesitated, but the threat of the runed blades and crackling magic forced them to obey.
Men and children shuffled to one side. Women to another. Israelites and other captives forcibly divided.
The soldier sneered.
"Israelites first. Take them away."
The guards surged forward, grabbing the Israelites roughly. Their tiger tails lashed in protest, but resistance only brought pain.
The High Magi raised their hands, chanting in a tongue that made the walls tremble. Black lightning erupted from the crystals embedded in the prisoners' shackles, sending shockwaves through their bodies until they collapsed, twitching.
Screams filled the air.
"No, please!"
"I don't want to work!"
"I just want to go home!"
Men, women, and children all Israelites were dragged out, their cries echoing down the endless halls.
The foot soldier turned back, voice sharp.
"Next. The women."
One by one, the women were seized some going silently, others clawing and screaming.
Ham's daughter stood her ground, trembling.
A foot soldier grabbed her by the arm.
"You didn't hear what he said?" he growled. "All women!"
She dropped to the floor, clinging to her father's legs.
"I'm not going without my father!" she sobbed.
Hunter shifted beside Kiyohime, his body tensing. Noah moved too but Kiyohime quickly shook her head, whispering,
"Let it happen... for now. We will escape."
Noah nodded grimly and stepped back.
But Hunter couldn't hold back. He broke formation, rushing at the soldier.
The nearest High Magus turned his palm, and the crystals around Hunter flashed.
Black lightning blasted him off his feet. He hit the ground hard, gasping, his body spasming.
Ham screamed, "Please stop! I'll go with you! Please!"
The High Magus sneered down at Hunter.
"You're lucky," he said coldly. "We need bodies for the pyramids."
At his signal, two foot soldiers dragged Hunter back into line.
Another guard approached Kiyohime, reaching out roughly.
She slipped aside with a fluid motion and said coolly,
"I can walk myself."
She stepped forward under her own power, the soldier following suspiciously at her back.
Before she was led away, she turned her head slightly, catching Noah and Hunter's eyes.
Her voice was low but steady.
"Play it smart."
And then she disappeared down the dark hallway.
They walked in a slow, miserable line chained together, following the monstrous foot soldiers down narrow, torch-lit corridors.
The stone walls were damp, the air heavy with the smell of mildew and dust.
Ham was right in front of Kiyohime, her small hands trembling as she whispered,
"I'm scared... What do you think they're going to do to us?"
Kiyohime kept her voice low and steady.
"I don't know. But don't worry. We will escape."
She glanced around at the guards, at the glyphs flickering faintly along the walls.
"Their magic isn't as strong as they think. I just need time to recover my strength."
Ham looked back at her with wide, fearful eyes.
"How are you so calm?"
Kiyohime gave a faint, tired smile.
"Wouldn't be the first time I was captured and had to escape," she said.
"I used to lead an entire unit... We trained for assaults, infiltrations, rescues."
She left it there, her thoughts turning inward.
Adamus... please be alive. I know you're out there.
They moved deeper underground, the tunnels growing grander.
Flickering firelight revealed stretches of polished limestone, veins of gold running through the walls.
The deeper they went, the more luxury they glimpsed golden reliefs, statues of gods, painted columns.
Finally, they emerged into a massive hall.
At its heart stood rows of women dressed in flowing white and blue linen the colors of Ma'at and divine purity.
A cluster of high-ranking women priestesses, their hair braided with gold thread descended toward them.
One of them, her kohl-rimmed eyes sharp and cruel, called out:
"Stand down, soldiers. Let the women relax. How else are we to judge their beauty for the Per-aa?"
(The Great House the Palace.)
Another priestess laughed, inspecting the new arrivals.
"It seems we have true treasures this time," she said, a measuring rod already in hand.
The women were herded into rows.
Kiyohime found herself standing stiffly in line, watching as each captive was examined by the priestesses.
They measured cheekbones, brows, lips, the curves of the chest, the narrowness of the waist, the length of the legs.
Even the length and curl of eyelashes were not spared.
The lead priestess, adorned with a pectoral of gold and lapis lazuli, inspected a young woman in front of Kiyohime.
The priestess's eyes briefly flared with magic, scanning her.
"I'm sorry," the priestess said coldly. "You didn't make the cut."
The woman screamed as two soldiers seized her by the arms.
"No! I can serve the Pharaoh! I can be his concubine!"
But her cries vanished into the echoing hall as she was dragged away.
Kiyohime stepped forward next.
The lead priestess's eyes widened immediately.
She leaned in, murmuring, "Ah... we have ourselves a rare beauty."
Golden glyphs spun around the priestess's wrists as she invoked her magic. Her pupils became like burning coals.
"You are not of this world," she whispered.
"A yokai."
Kiyohime met her gaze without fear.
"Yes."
The priestess began her measuring work precise, almost mechanical murmuring to herself as she moved.
Kiyohime stayed still, asking quietly,
"Why? Why all this?"
The priestess answered smoothly without looking up:
"It is the ancient art of physiognomy. We must ensure only the most perfect faces surround our Per-aa.
Those who pass will not labor in the fields.
You will serve the Pharaoh within the Per-aa itself... his concubine... his ornament. At any moment, you may be summoned to his bed."
She finished her examination and stepped back, consulting her tablet.
The priestess's lips curved into a delighted smile.
"Perfect ratios," she said.
"A rare Golden Measure. She is exceptional."
The guards stepped forward.
"Take this one," the priestess ordered, waving her hand.
Kiyohime was pulled gently but firmly away. As she walked, she searched the hall frantically.
Her eyes finally found Ham and her heart sank.
Ham was being dragged in the opposite direction, her small form struggling helplessly. She had not passed the test.
Kiyohime wrenched her gaze away as a foot soldier barked at her,
"Don't worry about them. Those who fail go back to the fields... to the slave pits. You? You're bound for the Per-aa the Pharaoh's Great House."
They shoved her into a gilded cage drawn by enchanted horses.
Inside, she was crammed with other women some weeping silently, others numb.
The cart jolted forward, beginning its slow, rumbling journey deeper toward the heart of the Pharaoh's fortress.
Toward the palace.
Toward captivity.
They shoved her into a gilded cage yoked to enchanted horses whose hooves shimmered with ancient runes. The carriage groaned forward with a magical hum, its wheels never quite touching the ground. Inside, Kiyohime found herself crammed shoulder to shoulder with other women each of them stunning in their own way, each wearing the same shackles of uncertainty.
The air was thick with murmurs of despair.
"I want to see my husband again… my children…"
"I don't belong here. I'm already married…"
Others, however, wore resignation like jewelry. One woman with cracked laughter whispered, "At least it's not the fields. All we do now is clean the Per-aa."
But one voice rose above the rest a red-skinned woman, a Goshenite, her left horn snapped at the base, a brutal sign of enslavement. And yet, there was no fear in her. Her chains clinked as if she wore them like bangles.
"Look around you, sisters," she said, chin high. "The princess of this land was once a slave just like us. Her beauty lifted her to the throne. And I…" She flipped her obsidian-black hair. "I am lovelier still. I will be the next royal bride."
The cart lurched forward, and with a heavy groan, the journey deeper into the Pharaoh's dominion began.
Toward the palace.
Toward gilded captivity.
Toward the lion's mouth.
Kiyohime remained silent as the world outside became a blur of cruel wonder. They passed towering pyramids not merely of sandstone, but glimmering constructions of black glass, polished obsidian, even gold-veined lapis lazuli. Entire species were bent under the weight of empire.
Goshenites, their broken horns branding them as slaves, heaved stone up monolithic steps. Tiger-tailed Israelites lean, strong, and fierce-eyed were forced to work twice as hard, drawing heavy chains that dug into their skin. Foot soldiers barked orders while the Berserkers, monstrous wardens with serpentine whips, lashed out at anything that stumbled. An old woman collapsed beside a granite block, whispering for water.
She was spit on.
Kiyohime watched all this with quiet rage, her fingers tightening. Who treats people like this… especially their own kind? she thought.
At last, they arrived.
The Per-aa.
The gilded gates before them stood fifty cubits tall, embossed with divine serpents and crowned falcons. The fortress was a union of divine geometry and imperial ego pyramids fused into a sprawling superstructure, flanked by massive statues of past Pharaohs whose eyes seemed to follow the cart's arrival.
The cage unlocked with a hiss. The women were herded inside through arched golden doors, their bare feet tapping softly against polished floors floors made entirely of gold. Even the tables, chairs, murals, and incense burners shimmered with wealth stolen across universes and generations.
A regal woman in robes of white and blue stood at the center of the chamber, her head adorned with a delicate uraeus crown. She raised her hand.
"Line up," she said, voice like chime and command. "Pharaoh will arrive shortly. Be still. Be silent."
The women obeyed some reluctantly, others trembling. Kiyohime moved with them, her body still weak, her power still distant. But her mind was clear. She scanned the room.
Too many guards.
Too many warriors.
Escape now would mean death.
ut she burned the layout into memory.
And then
A sound.
A drumbeat that was not of drums.
A heartbeat of the gods.
The air shivered as a procession entered the chamber, gold trembling on the walls with every approaching step.
First came the foot soldiers.
Then followed the Tjenyut, fan-bearers clad in gold-threaded silks. Their vast ceremonial fans shimmered with peacock feathers, each inscribed with the all-seeing eye of Horus. They fanned not mere wind, but reverence itself cooling the air so the divine would never sweat beneath mortal heat. Each movement was a dance for the Pharaoh.
At their head strode the Tjaty, the Vizier, robed in cascading alabaster linen embroidered with glyphs of law and judgment. Ancient scrolls fluttered from his belt, etched into living papyrus. His eyes were hollow with centuries of duty, his expression carved in stone.
Behind him drifted the Divine Scribes, scribes, their magic conjuring scrolls that appeared and vanished in flashes of sacred light. Dozens of pens floated before them, scratching endlessly, recording every word, every gesture, every breath within the chamber.
Next came the Medjay, Pharaoh's most trusted and deadliest warriors. Silent and disciplined, they marched in gleaming gold armor trimmed with black and purple cloth. Massive long weapons rested across their backs, etched with runes of power. Each was a rare breed four-horned, with two jutting forward like blades and two curving back like a crown. Their mere presence carried the weight of death.
Then entered the Hem-netjer, High Priest of Ra and Ptah. Skeletal, towering, otherworldly his lacquer-red skin gleamed like living flame, his spiraling horns adorned with burning incense rings. His bare chest bore tattoos that pulsed with divine power: the sun-disc of Ra above his heart, the cosmic hammer of Ptah carved across his ribs. His scepter crackled with cerulean fire, and with each whispered verse, reality shimmered and bent, as if even existence itself bowed to the old rites.
The chamber darkened. The air thickened with jasmine, iron, and ancient sorcery.
And then
He came.
Pharaoh Thutmose III.
He walked barefoot upon the golden floor, yet every step echoed like thunder. His red skin, the mark of the Goshenite bloodline, shimmered with divine oil, and his twin horns curved upward like a war crown, sharp and polished to obsidian shine. He was young no more than twenty-five but his eyes held the fury of dynasties. Eyes the color of molten amber, with slitted pupils like a lion's eyes that did not simply look, but chose.
His robes were deep sapphire trimmed in starlight gold, flowing behind him like the Nile under moonlight. Around his neck, a heavy pectoral of emerald and turquoise bore the glyphs of conquest. His head was adorned with the Pschent the double crown of unified rule adorned with a living serpent, a uraeus, whose eyes glowed faintly as it hissed with each movement.
In his right hand, he held the crook and flail, but not as empty symbols. They were instruments of will. Of judgment. Of ownership. They moved with him as if they were alive.
The women assembled in the hall fell to their knees not by command, but by instinct. Some trembled. Others stared in wonder. Many feigned seduction, fluttering lashes, arching posture. They came from every corner of the stars pale-haired lunar tribes, shimmering aquatic priestesses, smoke-skinned desert nomads, even a crystalline being whose body refracted the light like glass.
They reached out, mouths open like blossoms. One whispered, "He is the blood of the gods." Another wept softly, just from seeing him.
But Pharaoh Thutmose III did not look at them.
His gaze was forward toward power, toward prophecy.
The High Priest stepped forward, his voice deep as thunder beneath the earth.
"Pharaoh," he intoned, bowing low. "The omens burn bright. The stars bend in our favor. The Seven Deadly Sins have sworn to find the one called Moses the traitor who nearly escaped your grasp."
The Tjaty added, "He and the remaining Israelites will be bound before the next moon. They will not leave Goshenite soil."
The Pharaoh said nothing at first. He simply looked toward the distance not the throne, not the women, not even his court. But beyond.
Then he spoke.
A hush fell over the golden hall.
Pharaoh Thutmose III stood before the line of women, the serpent upon his crown flicking its tongue as if tasting the air.
He raised a hand not in command, but in thought. Then, he spoke, his voice smooth as polished obsidian:
"Moses will have his time."
The words floated like incense, thick with certainty.
"The Seven Deadly Sins do not fail. Lucifer gave me dominion over them for a reason." His eyes flared for a moment amber fire behind his gaze. "They will bring him to his knees, as they have done to kings, prophets… and gods."
He turned to his High Priest, his tone shifting, lighter now but edged in steel.
"We will speak more of this… later."
The High Priest bowed low, murmuring, "As you command, Pharaoh."
Then the Pharaoh turned his attention to the line of women before him. The scent of perfume and fear mingled in the air. Some of the women trembled, others dared to meet his gaze with hope or veiled pride. Sweat shimmered on brows, hearts pounded in delicate ribs.
Kiyohime stood among them, silent, still. Her sharp eyes watched everything.
He's… young, she thought. So young. And thin. She narrowed her eyes.
But the Seven Deadly Sins bowed to him. There must be more to him than flesh.
She scanned the room again, calculating, marking guard positions, exits, patterns.
Then came the woman in white and blue the one who had ordered them to line up.
She stepped forward and bowed gracefully before the Pharaoh.
"My lord," she said, her voice smooth like wind over silk, "these are the newly captured. The most beautiful our scouts could find. May they bring you delight and honor."
Thutmose III nodded faintly as he walked down the line, robes whispering like secrets against the golden floor.
"Some more beautiful than others," he said, almost to himself, the serpent on his crown letting out a soft hiss.
"But… not a bad harvest."
Beside him, the Sesh, the royal scribe, wrote feverishly. Every word the Pharaoh uttered, every flick of his finger, every nod all inked onto sacred scrolls.
The Vizier, the Tjaty, stood at the Pharaoh's other side, holding a polished calendar slate.
"This one," Thutmose said, pointing casually to a tall girl with bronze skin and green eyes, "schedule her for Monday night."
"Yes, my Pharaoh," the Vizier murmured, recording the appointment.
"That one Thursday. That one… skip. That one tomorrow."
He moved like a god cataloging stars, each gesture sealing a fate.
Then he stopped.
Before Kiyohime.
His gaze lingered. The air between them tightened.
He studied her, head tilted slightly. The room fell utterly silent.
"There's something… different about this one," he said.
But before he could continue, the golden doors creaked open again.
A woman entered, regal and radiant The Queen stood with regal poise, her two children at her side one toddling beside her, the other curled against her shoulder, his sobs soft but persistent. She wore a flowing dress of white and gold, the fabric shimmering like sunlight on water. Her skin was the deep red of the Goshenite people, marked with the ancient legacy of her ancestors. Her horns, however, told a story of struggle and triumph one was broken, a symbol of her rise from the chains of slavery to the heights of royalty. She carried it not with shame, but as a badge of victory. Her long blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders, a striking contrast to her crimson skin, and it shimmered like gold in the light as she moved with a quiet strength that commanded respect.
She walked with elegance and fire, her presence commanding the room as easily as her husband did.
"Apologies for the interruption," she said, voice tinged with warm irritation. "But your son won't stop crying. He insists on seeing you."
The Pharaoh sighed, brushing his fingers.
"Not now. Give him to one of the palace maids."
He chuckled. "Or did you really come just to judge my new heroines?"
The Queen held her baby close, whispering softly: "See? Daddy's here. Calm down now." The child cooed.
She looked back up, smiling faintly.
"I'm not concerned with any of these women. Let them flutter around you like moths. None will replace me."
Her gaze raked the line, cold and sure. Then she turned and walked away, hips swaying like a queen of fire.
Thutmose III chuckled again, his eyes returning to Kiyohime.
He lifted a hand. His fingers shimmered with divine sigils. His pupils narrowed to slits of light as he scanned her essence.
Then he smiled.
"Ah… now I understand. You're a Yokai."
The serpent upon his crown hissed louder, flicking its tongue toward her.
"It explains your beauty," he mused. "And your quiet. Your kind… you're known for snakes. And for elegance. I find that… appealing."
"Schedule her," the Pharaoh said. "Move her up. This week."
The Vizier bowed and scribbled the order into his scroll without hesitation. The Pharaoh moved on, commanding with the ease of a god among mortals, his finger lifting like a scepter as he pointed, chose, and decreed.
Kiyohime did not flinch. Her face was calm, but inside, fire roared.
You like snakes? she thought. Then you'll learn what happens when one coils around your throne and waits.
She said nothing. Only watched. Only waited. Every step, every glance, she calculated.
As the Pharaoh touched the chin of the final girl in line and turned to enter the next chamber, his entourage of assistants followed him scribes, guards, and the High Priest at his side. The chamber grew quieter in his absence.
The female priest remained, stepping forward with grace and authority. "Now," she said, her voice sharp as incense smoke. "It's time you learned your duties. You've been chosen. That means you will work."
As she spoke, Kiyohime's eyes scanned the room. Guards stood at every wall, every corner foot soldiers, berserkers, and the silent, watching Medjay. No easy escape. Her wrists were still locked in glowing crystalline shackles, living restraints etched with magical veins. She flexed her fingers. Too risky to strike now. Too many eyes. Too many blades.
I'll wait until night, she thought, her gaze steady. That's when I'll slip free… and find the boat. Find the others.
The priest raised her voice. "Guards take them to their stations. Show them where they work. Show them where they sleep."
The foot soldiers moved in, splitting the women into groups and dragging them down golden corridors. Kiyohime found herself with several others, pushed into a gleaming chamber. Every inch was gold statues, furniture, even the walls shimmered like polished sunlight. Buckets were tossed at their feet. Brushes, cloths, and oils for cleaning. The soldier sneered.
"This is your job now scrub every inch. Make it shine. This place must stay perfect for the Pharaoh."
Kiyohime raised her shackled hands. "How are we supposed to clean like this?"
Beside the foot soldiers stood two High Magi Harṭummîm. Their eyes glowed faintly as their hands lit with eldritch light. They muttered an incantation. The crystal chains shimmered and loosened. The cuffs still bound wrist to wrist, but no longer locked their hands together. They could move. Barely.
The bucket hit the floor with a sharp crack.
"Now clean."
Kiyohime knelt, taking up the cloth in silence. Around her, women cried as they scrubbed. Some trembled. Others refused and were hauled away screaming. Kiyohime bent low, wiping the floor slowly, deliberately. She could feel it the energy the mage had used. The sigil pattern, the flow of mana. She closed her eyes.
I know that spell. I can copy it.
I can break it.
Hours later, the women were led through a vast corridor of gold-veined stone, torchlight dancing across polished walls etched with sacred texts. At last, they reached the place where they would sleep. It was no dungeon but a seraglio, a gilded cage for royal concubines.
The chamber stretched beyond sight each section a private room with grand silk-curtained beds, gold-framed mirrors, and cushions piled like clouds. The air smelled of lotus oil and dusted myrrh. Every luxury was present, but freedom was not.
Kiyohime stepped across the threshold, her eyes scanning, her thoughts sharpening like drawn steel. Though their crystal shackles still bound one wrist to the other, the earlier enchantment allowed them to move freely. One by one, the women chose their places.
Kiyohime moved toward a bed near the wide, arched window. The breeze was warm, the silk curtains whispering secrets. She looked out first to the left. Tower guards patrolled the roof with lanterns glowing like distant stars. Right more soldiers marched below, their shadows cast long across the sand. Statues of past Pharaohs stood in silent watch, their gazes cold and unyielding. Even from here, she could see the faint outline of the distant pyramids, black against the night. Escape would not be simple.
This is where it will begin, she thought. This is where I leave.
Just as she began to plot her path, the golden doors creaked open. A female priest stepped in, her voice smooth but firm.
"Beauties of the night prepare yourselves. The divine Pharaoh may summon any of you, at any hour. You must be radiant."
Behind her came a line of attendants bearing trays of cosmetics, oils, and jewels. The room filled with whispers, brushes, and painted sighs.
Kiyohime stood still as a young woman approached with a delicate brush.
"I don't need makeup," she said flatly.
The attendant smiled, nervous. "You are indeed beautiful, foreign one. But our Pharaoh favors perfection. Even the moon must wear gold when it enters his sky. It will be brief."
Kiyohime frowned, but allowed the work. Her jaw remained set as the woman applied color to her face, murmuring reassurance.
As the attendants filed out, the high priestess paused at the doorway. Her eyes swept the women, and her voice rang out like temple bronze.
"He may call for you at any time. Please him, and you shall live in ease. Displease him… and none shall speak your name again."
She turned to Kiyohime. "Do not test the gods with escape. These walls see all. These guards do not forgive."
Two soldiers took positions at the door silent, unmoving.
With a soft clang, the priestess shut the massive golden doors behind her.
Two guards took their posts at the towering doors silent as statues, spears crossed in front of them.
With a heavy clang, the high priestess pulled the golden doors shut.
Inside, the girls began to murmur some in hope, some in grief. One whispered, "If he favors me, I'll never clean again." Another sobbed quietly, "I just want to see my husband." Another laughed too loudly, "I'll be queen soon, you'll see."
Kiyohime said nothing. She stood at the tall arched window, eyes scanning left… then right.
Guards. Everywhere.
Two posted atop the distant roof. Others marched along golden walkways. Even the horizon shimmered with armored silhouettes.
It wasn't a cell but it may as well have been. The room was larger than a temple hall, each woman granted a gilded bed beneath a dome of starlight-painted ceiling. Gold statues lined the walls. The floor was smooth alabaster. And yet it all felt like a velvet snare.
Hours passed. No summons came. One by one, the women drifted to sleep.
Kiyohime waited. Watching. Listening.
When she was sure they all slept, she opened her eyes. Still bound in crystal-linked cuffs, but free to move her arms, she crouched in silence.
"I'm starting to recover," she whispered. "Good."
She thought back to the spell used earlier how it felt. Fire… water… earth… and demon magic. She focused. Her palm shimmered. But then crackling pain shot through her.
Magical lightning surged through her body.
She bit down hard, muffling the scream. Sparks danced along her skin. Her muscles tensed. But she didn't stop.
Not this time.
Teeth grit. Heart racing. She gathered the energy and released a counter-spell. The crystals cracked then shattered. Chains fell.
She was free.
Climbing onto the window ledge, she peered down again.
Still too many guards. Too much light.
"I need to find the others before I look for the boat," she said softly. "I can't rush this. Not yet."
She knelt, pressing her palm to the golden floor. Her voice was low, deliberate.
"Mutation Style: Kagehebi no Dans—Fragment of the Shadow Snake."
From her hand, darkness unraveled. Dozens of serpents fifty in all slithered forth, tiny and thin as brushstrokes, flickering like ink given life under moonlight. They hissed without sound, sinking into the edges of the chamber, and then scattering in every direction. To anyone else they were nothing mere streaks of shadow, invisible, lost in the folds of torchlight.
But to Kiyohime, each one was an eye.
Her vision fractured and multiplied. The snakes slid along gilded corridors lined with hieroglyphs, through courtyards filled with braziers of burning lotus-oil, across balconies where soldiers leaned lazily on their spears. They slithered past banquet halls, where nobles laughed between jeweled cups, and into storerooms stacked with grain sealed by Pharaoh's mark. Some descended down spiral staircases slick with condensation, into vaults heavy with chains and treasure.
Others pressed deeper into the belly of the palace. Down torchlit tunnels and through prison gates. She caught glimpses of guards playing dice on golden tables, of berserkers sharpening axes in silence, of Medjay standing motionless, eyes glowing faintly green as if seeing into eternity.
And then she felt it. Pain.
One serpent slid between the bars of a dungeon cell. Through its sight, Kiyohime saw them: Noah, hunched but unbroken. His wife clutching their daughter close. Ham and the others shackled, their faces pale with exhaustion. The weight of despair pressed over them all.
"You're lucky, scum," a guard spat, tossing his spear against the wall. "Your shift is over. Crawl back to your kennel." His laughter rang against the stone.
Kiyohime's heart clenched. Her eyes burned hot with fury.
Just hang on, she whispered to herself, voice trembling but fierce.
The serpents faded, dissolving back into the dark. She exhaled slowly, gathering what remained of her drained strength. Her hand traced a subtle gesture, weaving a silent movement spell. Her steps melted into nothing no sound, no echo, not even a breath.
And she moved.
She leapt from window to rooftop, dodging patrols, cloaked in shadow. Each motion silent. Each pause precise. Twice, guards nearly spotted her but she vanished before their eyes.
Finally, she reached the slave compound.
She dropped silently to the ground, hiding behind a sandstone column. A lone soldier paced nearby.
Perfect.
She stepped out, feigning fear. "Please, sir. I'm lost. I"
"Where are your chains?" the soldier demanded, hand on his weapon. "You weren't you one of the new slaves?"
She moved faster than he could speak.
A spinning crescent kick slammed into his jaw. He crumpled.
She knelt beside him. "The things I do for friendship," she muttered.
Her fangs extended. She bit deep into his neck and began to shift.
Bones cracked. Skin twisted. Her figure reshaped into his.
She donned the soldier's armor, tied her hair back, and wiped the last trace of blood from her lip.
"The powers of a yōkai never disappoint," she muttered.
Disguised, she moved quietly through the winding compound halls, retracing her steps left past the golden mural, right through the sapphire-arched corridor, and under the obsidian statue that loomed like a silent sentinel.
But something felt off.
"I haven't seen any guards inside," she whispered to herself. "Not one foot soldier since the gate..."
Finally, she reached the slave pens.
Behind the thick golden bars, she saw them Noah. His wife, Inanna and Ham. And the rest of the Israelites. Allies. Natives. All bruised, eyes sunken… but alive.
Still in disguise, she snatched a ring of keys from the wall and began to unlock the cage.
Click.
As the gate creaked open, a blur dropped from the shadows above. White Meadow Wings unfurled midair. A fist slammed into her face.
She crashed to the ground.
Hunter landed on top of her, driving his knee into her chest. "Another one down!" he shouted, unaware.
The shadows stirred and out stepped the rest. Freed slaves. Natives. Israelites. Every single one, their crystal shackles broken and cast aside. They all looked ready to strike.
Kiyohime winced. Her form shimmered armor melting away as her true self returned.
Hunter froze. "Wait!" His fist stopped inches from her face. "It's her! It's Kiyohime!"
Gasps rippled through the crowd as he helped her up.
Noah, his wife, his daughter, and her friend, Inanna rushed over.
Kiyohime rubbed her cheek, glaring at Hunter. "I've only been gone a day. What in the realms happened? Where are your chains?"
Hunter shrugged. "Don't look at me. This was all Noah. Him and the spirit of these people." He gestured to the crowd. "They've got more heart than steel."
Kiyohime turned to Noah. "You broke the spell?"
Noah nodded calmly.
"I used my faith, faith in my God. It shattered every chain. The curse woven into the iron spell, I broke it. And the darker binding, the spell that chained their very lives to this planet and doomed them to explode if they ever left I destroyed that too. They are free now."
Putter stepped forward. "Then he took command. The soldiers didn't even fight that hard. Most of them…"
"They joined us," Hunter finished, stepping beside her. "We told them the truth."
Kiyohime blinked. "You convinced Pharaoh's soldiers… to betray him?"
Hunter nodded. "Not all. But enough. Once Noah spoke of the hyperverse collapsing of the black and white energy, End times energy. devouring everything some of them listened."
"The prophecy," one slave muttered. "The end of all things."
Kiyohime's ears rang with voices around her.
"We have to get out of here!"
"I won't die in a cage!"
"Our God has not lied! He will deliver us to the land of milk and honey!"
"We should've known our Pharaoh lied to us...!"
Even the native Goshenites and Hornbroken murmured in grief and disbelief. Their trust in their king had fractured.
Suddenly, a soldier entered the chamber. Kiyohime spun, readying a spell but Hunter raised a hand.
"He's with us."
The soldier knelt before Noah.
"My Prophet," he said, trembling. "The truth spreads across the city. Many of us are in shock. The Pharaoh never told us the world was ending. We were his loyal blades but now…"
He bowed his head. "We'll find the boat. We believe it's near the docks. But… you are the only one who can awaken it. It responds to you. To your bloodline. I'm sorry for all of it."
Noah stepped forward and placed a hand on the soldier's shoulder.
"My Lord forgives," he said softly. "So do I."
The soldier stood, saluted, and left to patrol, to hide the rebellion from Pharaoh's spies.
Kiyohime looked at Hunter. "So. What's the plan?"
Hunter cracked his knuckles. "Tomorrow morning, we attack. Until then, we keep quiet. The loyal soldiers are guarding the perimeter so no one suspects anything. Once we reach the boat… we take everyone. Every last soul."
"And we leave this planet before that black-and-white force arrives," Hunter added grimly.
Kiyohime nodded. "Sounds good. I'll see you all at dawn."
She turned to leave, her cloak flaring behind her.
"I'm going back to the palace," she said over her shoulder. "I want to study their archives. Learn more. Find weaknesses. I'll bring us something useful when the morning comes."
And with that she vanished into the night.
Kiyohime landed silently atop the roof of the compound, the wind brushing past her like whispers of the dead. She crouched, preparing to leap but paused.
Below, a lone figure slipped out through a side gate. Cloaked entirely in black, a hood pulled low.
Her eyes narrowed. That silhouette...
The figure turned briefly under the moonlight. Blonde hair spilled out from beneath the hood.
Kiyohime's breath caught.
No way... That's the queen.
She followed in silence, leaping from shadow to shadow. The figure moved swiftly through the alleys each footstep precise, practiced. Eventually, the robed woman stopped at a secluded corner near the base of the city wall. She bent down, lifting a tile from the ground. Beneath it a faint spark, a shimmer of magical light, a tunnel entrance.
Before the figure could descend, Kiyohime dropped in front of her.
The woman startled and stumbled backward. Her hood fell.
The Queen's golden hair shimmered in the dark.
"You," Kiyohime growled.
The Queen's eyes flared with outrage. "How dare you!"
Then she squinted. "Wait… I know that face."
"We met," Kiyohime replied coldly. "Back when your husband was judging those women like cattle."
"You!" the Queen snapped. "What business do you have here?"
Kiyohime stepped closer. "Stupid Queen. What are you doing sneaking out of the palace? Especially near that compound."
The Queen turned, trying to walk away. "Return to your duties, You saw nothing."
Kiyohime grabbed her wrist.
"You're not telling the Pharaoh,"She said, voice low and sharp.
The Queen's eyes flashed. "Unhand me. What are you insinuating?"
"I saw you leaving the compound," Kiyohime said. "The same one where the slaves are being freed. You know what's going on in there, don't you?"
The Queen yanked her arm free. "Yes. I know."
Kiyohime's eyes narrowed. "Then speak."
"All the slaves there… have broken their chains," the Queen said, her voice rising. "Including my father."
Kiyohime's eyes widened.
"You think I owe Pharaoh loyalty?" she hissed. "The man who tore me from my family? Who forced me into silk and gold while my kin rotted in chains?"
She pointed to her horn broken, scarred.
"I was born a slave. I carry the mark still. And I return to the compound every night to visit them—my people, my blood."
Kiyohime's expression softened slightly. "Then you truly hate him."
"With every breath," the Queen spat. "So worry not I will tell Pharaoh nothing."
"So you know about the end of the world?" Kiyohime asked.
The Queen nodded. "I do. I've seen the black-and-white fire with my own eyes. It devours stars. Erases memory itself."
"And the escape plan?"
"I'm preparing my family now," the Queen replied. "This tunnel one of many hidden beneath Theban stone leads to the palace chambers. When the time comes, we'll vanish into the night."
Suddenly, the air shifted.
From the shadows, three soldiers emerged cloaked in bronze, jackal-helmed, and armed with gleaming khopesh blades that caught the moonlight like curved fangs.
"Well, well," sneered the first one, stepping forward. "We heard every word."
He pointed at the Queen.
"I suppose betrayal is in your blood especially from a Goshenite with a broken horn."
The second soldier growled, "So the Queen raises her hand against our Pharaoh? And this place what is it? A compound of free slaves? Traders? Soldiers?" He smirked. "If we turn you all in and report this to the Pharaoh, we'll be heroes. Maybe even promoted."
The third soldier drew his blade slowly. "The gods will judge you harshly, daughter of dust."
The fourth, younger than the rest, held up a hand. "Wait… let's hear them out. What do you mean the end of the world?"
The Queen stood tall, her jaw tight, fury burning in her eyes.
Kiyohime stepped forward, placing herself between the soldiers and the Queen. Her voice was low, firm.
"You should've stayed silent. Now I can't let you return to the Pharaoh."
She turned to the curious fourth soldier. Her eyes narrowed.
"Yes. The world is ending. The true God of this hyperverse is unraveling everything. We have less than a day before a force of black and white destruction reaches this planet. You'll see it with your own eyes if you live that long."
"No way!" the fourth soldier gasped. "Our Pharaoh… he would have told us. Wouldn't he?"
The second soldier shrugged. "He told a few elites. Said not to panic. Said he'd make a force field to protect the planet. That he's all-powerful."
The fourth soldier began to tremble. "So it's true… the end is coming… I need to go. My family"
Before he could finish, a blade drove into his side. The second soldier twisted it cruelly.
"You fool," he spat, pulling the blade free. "To lose faith in the Pharaoh is death. He will protect us. We don't need fear. We need loyalty."
The young soldier collapsed to the ground, eyes wide in disbelief as his life faded.
Kiyohime's expression turned ice-cold.
Her lips began to glow a subtle, shimmering light blooming from her mouth. Slowly, she opened it, and from within she drew her katana: Muramasa.
In a flash, she moved.
Before the soldiers could react, she was already among them. Blades clashed, grunts filled the air and then, silence.
All three dropped to the ground, groaning, their wounds sharp and deliberate precise, but non-lethal.
Kiyohime calmly sheathed her sword. The blade vanished in a shimmer as she whispered a spell.
"They'll be out for at least twenty-four hours," she murmured.
Without another word, she turned and walked back to the Queen.
"You alright?" she asked.
The Queen nodded, tears in her eyes. "Yes… thank you."
She embraced Kiyohime tightly. "I'm sorry for earlier. For doubting you."
Kiyohime returned the gesture, then looked toward the secret tunnel the Queen had been about to crawl into.
"Maybe," she said, "you can help me."
The Queen stepped back. "With anything. I owe you my life."
Kiyohime met her eyes. "Then tell me everything. I want to bring this nation down. Especially the Pharaoh. The soldiers speak of him like a god. What's his weakness?"
The Queen looked toward the ditch. "Follow me."
She crawled down into the tunnel. Kiyohime followed.
As they entered the tunnel, a soft glow emerged. A fireball floated above the Queen's palm, casting warm light on golden walls and etchings.
Kiyohime blinked, surprised. "You know magic?"
The Queen smiled faintly. "Just a little. Not enough to fight but enough to remember who I am."
She turned down the tunnel. "Now listen. I'll tell you everything I know about the Pharaoh, the kingdom, and the secrets that could shatter them both."
The Queen began to speak.
"The Pharaoh is powerful… but not invincible. He can be defeated. The last Pharaoh was even killed."
Kiyohime narrowed her eyes. "How? You said his father was killed?"
The Queen nodded solemnly. "Amenhotep II slain by Moses's brother… Aaron. That's why this Pharaoh carries even more hatred for the Israelites than any ruler before him. His father was struck down by one of them."
Kiyohime's voice turned sharp. "So it's personal."
"Yes," the Queen said. "It's deep. But the truth runs darker still. Long ago, Pharaoh Senusret made a pact with Lucifer himself. In exchange, he was granted infinite power. That power… it comes from a staff, Satan Matteh Choshekh. A cursed, divine artifact. Every Pharaoh since has inherited the pact and the staff."
"Where is this staff, Satan Matteh Choshekh, now?" Kiyohime asked.
"He rarely carries it," the Queen explained. "But he can summon it at will. And whenever it touches his hand, he becomes limitless. When Aaron killed Amenhotep II… the staff wasn't in his grip. That's the only reason it was possible."
"So all I have to do… is strike before he calls it," Kiyohime said. "Sounds simple."
The Queen shook her head. "It's not. He's strong, even without it. And his twin guards, Medjay always beside him are terrifying. You won't reach him in time."
Suddenly, they heard it.
Screaming. Wailing. Desperate cries echoing from deep in the tunnels.
Kiyohime stiffened. "What is that? Don't you hear it?"
The Queen sighed, sorrow in her voice. "I've walked these tunnels so long… the screams became part of the silence."
Kiyohime stared at her. "What is it?"
"The flames of Lucifer," the Queen replied softly. "Come. I will show you how far the Pharaoh's hatred truly goes."
They moved quickly, the cries growing louder. When they reached a thick iron door guarded by two soldiers, the guards stiffened.
"Halt!"
Then one recognized her.
"My Queen," he bowed quickly, stepping aside.
"She's mine," the Queen said, gesturing to Kiyohime. "One of my slaves. Pay her no mind."
They entered.
Inside was a massive chamber. Lined with cages. Screams filled the air like poison. Hundreds thousands of Israelites packed inside, reaching out, begging. On the far side, soldiers shoved prisoners into a glowing pit of fire.
The flames were not natural.
They were black and red, twisting like screaming shadows. Souls caught ablaze, shrieking, then vanishing into nothingness.
Kiyohime turned, horrified. "This… this is monstrous."
The Queen's eyes dimmed. "This is the final trial of the Israelites. They suffer first build pyramids, starve, bleed until they can no longer serve. Then they are sent here. The flames of Satan. They don't just kill the body. They erase the soul. No afterlife. No rebirth. Just… oblivion."
Kiyohime whispered, "This Pharaoh… he's not just a tyrant. He's a butcher of eternity."
The Queen turned to her. "Back at the compound, they said you and Noah… your people were strong. That you came to save everyone. Do you really believe you guys can achieve that?"
Kiyohime nodded. "I have to."
"So do you know where the boat's at?" Kiyohime asked the Queen, her eyes lighting up.
"Yes. This way."
They weaved through the tunnels until they entered another massive chamber where Noah's ark loomed.
Surrounded by dozens of Pharaoh's soldiers. Some stood with clipboards, scribbling.
"Ninety-two quaichillan so far," one soldier muttered.
Another marveled aloud. "Is it true? This ship… it's infinite inside?"
A third snorted. "If we keep pulling people out, we'll overpopulate the whole planet. So many species trillions. And it still hasn't stopped."
The Queen turned to Kiyohime, stunned. "I… I can't believe it. They say this ship can hold all of existence."
Kiyohime's voice was firm. "Yes. That is Noah's ark. It can carry the whole world. But it needs faith to fly. I can't move it. Only Noah can activate it."
The Queen frowned, watching soldiers drag more prisoners away. "So it's true… That's Noah's Ark, isn't it? And they're pulling people out people from other universes, from across our hyperverse of Israel?"
Kiyohime nodded grimly. "Yes. And we need to gather them all and get them back into the Ark. We have less than 24 hours before this planet is destroyed by that black and white energy."
The Queen looked shaken. "This is all so frightening…"
Kiyohime's eyes shifted toward the far tunnel, her voice low but resolute.
"Let's keep moving."
They walked on until the Queen pointed to a small staircase. "This is where my quarters are."
Kiyohime paused. "I'm not going with you. I need to snoop around."
"Impossible," the Queen whispered. "If a guard catches you wandering alone as a slave, they'll turn you in. If you fight… you could ruin the entire rescue."
Kiyohime smirked.
"I won't be seen."
Kiyohime whispered the words as she traced a sigil in the air. Her form shimmered, like heat ripples on stone then vanished.
The Queen's eyes widened. "Where did you go?"
"Invisible," Kiyohime's voice echoed faintly. "Don't worry. I'll be back."
As the Queen ascended the marble stairs to her chamber, Kiyohime faded fully into the shadows, unseen and unheard.
The castle was alive with tension guards patrolling every hall, their golden armor clicking with each step. Kiyohime moved like a breath of wind between them. Sometimes she leapt onto the walls, crawling along them like a silent gecko. Other times, she ducked into shadow, narrowly evading detection.
"I need to find that staff," she whispered to herself.
After slinking through corridors and bypassing several guarded rooms, she climbed up a support beam and slipped into the rafters, crawling silently across the ceiling. Then she saw it.
A massive chamber.
Dozens of foot soldiers stood guard, along with towering figures cloaked in dark robes the High Magi, the Harṭummîm.
"This has to be it," Kiyohime murmured, hanging upside down like a phantom. "No other room has had this many guards."
She scanned for openings.
"I don't see a way in... and I can't make noise. It'll ruin the escape plan..." A sly smile crept across her unseen lips. "But it's always good to be a yōkai."
Silently, she crawled backward along the ceiling and slid down the nearest column, tucking herself into the shadows at the edge of the chamber. She turned visible once more her form blossoming into sight like moonlight piercing fog.
Then, boldly, she walked toward the guarded entrance.
A foot soldier noticed her instantly. "Hey! Where do you think you're going, slave? Get back to your room."
Kiyohime met his gaze and exhaled.
Golden motes drifted from her skin pheromones woven with ancient charm, a seduction only a true yōkai could command. The air shimmered around her, thick with enchantment.
Her form began to shift.
Her eyes deepened. Her skin glowed porcelain kissed by firelight.
Hair spilled longer down her back, silken and dark as ink. Her features grew more refined: high cheekbones sculpted like art, lashes lengthening just enough to make every blink a spell. Her waist tightened subtly, a perfect balance of grace and danger.
Her beauty undeniable, otherworldly.
Can be skipped.
narrator:
"Yōkai are not merely spirits they are super-demons in silk and shadow. Their beauty is not just a blessing, but a weapon honed over centuries. The more beautiful a yōkai becomes, the more dangerous they truly are. That beauty is fed by souls devoured, digested, and stored deep within them like burning coals beneath flawless skin.
They do not just allure; they command worship. Praise becomes currency, and they drink it in greedily. The more praise they receive, the stronger they become. Praise leads to obsession. Obsession leads to surrender. And when a soul draws near… it is already marked for ruin.
Yōkai possess a forbidden technique an ancient, instinctual art. With it, they can increase their physical beauty in real time: perfecting features, refining their scent, amplifying their voice into something divine. Their bodies shift subtly, sensually, releasing specialized hormones that pierce into the mind and heart like invisible barbs.
These aren't just pheromones they are chains. Once inhaled, they entangle the senses, flooding the target with desire and adoration. Victims begin to love. And from that love comes control. The yōkai's will becomes irresistible, wrapped in the illusion of affection.
And this is when they strike.
When the victim is smiling. Kneeling. Trusting.
That is when the yōkai devours them mind, body, and soul."
End of narration.
The soldiers' stances faltered. Eyes widened. One dropped his spear.
Another murmured, dazed, "You're… radiant. What do you want us to do? Anything…"
More voices joined. "You're so beautiful."
"You must be a goddess…"
"Just say the word…"
Some sank to their knees. Others clutched their hearts like poets lost in longing.
Kiyohime smiled. "What you can do for me... is sleep."
One soldier, barely standing, gasped, "I... I love you… I won't... fall aslee"
Thud.
He crumpled to the ground.
Others followed, one by one. Even the strongest among them resisted only seconds longer.
Kiyohime stepped lightly over the limp bodies of the guards, exhaling with calm satisfaction.
"Too much of my charm," she whispered playfully, "and even the strongest crumble. Hormones... it's just science." A pause. "And a little yōkai magic."
With a flick of her fingers, she incanted the invisibility spell once more. Her form shimmered then vanished into the warm, incense-laced air.
A ghost now, she drifted like mist through the chamber. Silken veils parted for her. Bronze-inlaid cupboards swung open silently. Papyrus scrolls rustled as she passed.
"Where is it…?" she murmured, peering into ornate niches carved with falcons and scarabs. "That Pharaoh's staff…"
She paused before a door made of pure electrum, etched with hieroglyphs glowing faintly in the dark. Her eyes narrowed.
She pushed it open.
Inside, golden torchlight bathed the chamber in an amber glow. At the far end stood a throne of Hathoric design its arms shaped like lionesses, its seat encrusted with lapis and turquoise.
And behind it mounted on a wall of obsidian hung a ceremonial staff, shaped like a was-scepter, radiating divine tension.
It was forged of black iron veined with red and deep, ancient gold metal that looked molten and bruised, pulsing with a cold, relentless power. At its crown, three interlocking rings hovered in perfect balance, each phasing through the others in a slow, hypnotic orbit. Their motion defied logic symbolizing entropy, eternity, and absolute authority all at once.
This was no mere artifact. The staff radiated intent a pressure that could be felt in the bones. It didn't just hold magic. It remembered. Every sin uttered in its presence, every soul broken under its rule, every divine command it had ever enforced it carried them all like whispers etched into its core. It was a relic of divine rebellion, of forgotten gods and cosmic wars now resting in the hands of a mortal king, hung like a trophy over a throne of shadows.
"That's the staff," Kiyohime whispered, brows furrowed. "But…"
THUD.
Footsteps. Heavy. Trained.
Without hesitation, she leapt upward, clinging to the palm-carved rafters above the chamber still invisible, eyes sharp.
A Medjay strode in one of the Pharaoh's elite, the Eyes of Horus. His movement was silent thunder, his eyes sharper than obsidian blades. His linen robe bore the crimson mark of the Lucifer.
"I sense nothing," he announced. "The chamber is clear."
"Enter, my Pharaoh," he added, bowing slightly.
The Pharaoh entered tall and commanding, draped in royal linen bordered in sacred gold. Behind him came a second Medjay and then the venerable Hem-netjer, the High Priest of Ra, The Pharaoh and Lucifer, his shaved head shining beneath a leopard-skin mantle of priestly rank.
Behind them trailed four divine scribes, enchanted scrolls floating around them, styluses scratching symbols midair. Papyrus formed and vanished in streams of divine ink recording every sound and movement.
The High Priest bowed. "Neb-maat-ra, Light of the Nile… We have encountered complications."
The Pharaoh raised a hand. "Scribes leave us. This discourse is not for their scrolls. Medjay guard the outer door."
The scribes and guards obeyed in silence, departing in a rush of papyrus and whispering linen.
The chamber settled.
Hem-netjer stepped forward. "A disturbance has erupted in the Lower Compound among the slaves. The ones of Israelite blood."
The Pharaoh frowned, gaze fixed. "They've rebelled?"
"Yes, Divine One," Hem-netjer said gravely. "They've overpowered the spearmen. Rumors spread of an end to the world. The slaves speak of visions and signs… and the soldiers some have begun to believe them."
The Pharaoh's voice was low. "They always try to escape. Crush them."
"By your will," the High Priest nodded. "I have dispatched the foot soldiers, the High Magi, Harṭummîm and the berserkers to restore order and extinguish treason. But… there is more."
The Pharaoh turned slowly. "Speak."
Hem-netjer hesitated. "The Seven Sins have returned. After seizing the other invaders the ones from the celestial boat they reported a loss."
The Pharaoh's breath halted.
"They lost track of Moses.."
The golden veins in the Pharaoh's headdress caught fire under the torchlight. His jaw clenched.
" They lost Moses?"
"He escaped, but the Sins are already searching"
"You fool," the Pharaoh spat. "He is worth more than a hundred trillion field hands! His blood his destiny is mine to end. Mine."
"I will direct the Sins to burn every grain of sand until he is found, Pharaoh."
Above them, Kiyohime remained motionless in the ceiling shadows, heart hammering.
(Kiyohime, internal)
Noah... the others... the Israelites… they're in danger. The Pharaoh's soldiers are already moving.
She gritted her teeth.
Do I go now warn them?
Or do I strike here… and end this madness in one blow?
Still clinging to the shadowed rafters, Kiyohime held her breath as the Pharaoh stepped Forward.
He knelt. Placing his palm against the mosaic-tiled floor, he whispered words in ancient Egyptian. The air grew thick. The floor rippled then split open with a hiss of ancient gears.
A portion of the wall began to rotate inward, revealing a dark, secret chamber behind it.
Inside, under the flicker of a lone brazier, was a man.
An Israelite, chained by both wrists and ankles, forced to kneel. His body was bruised, bloodied. His breath shallow.
Kiyohime narrowed her eyes, voice soft in her thoughts.
"Who is that…?"
The Pharaoh strode into the hidden room, his golden sandals scraping stone. He stood before the prisoner and leaned down, voice sharp like a blade.
PHARAOH
"Your brother escaped, Aaron."
The man lifted his head. Through swollen eyes and split lips, he smiled.
AARON
"Of course he did. He will save our people from you.
He is the Chosen One destined to lead us to the land of milk and honey."
He spat on the ground at the Pharaoh's feet.
"You're nothing but a monster. And soon, my Lord will slay you."
The Pharaoh's smile curled into something dark twisted with rage and sorrow.
PHARAOH
"You're lucky you're still breathing.
I kept you alive for one reason: so your precious brother Moses could watch you die.
Then I'll kill him too."
He stepped closer, his voice trembling with bitterness.
PHARAOH
"You call me a monster?
You… who murdered my father?
I was a child. I watched you do it.
Watched you drive that blade into him."
His eyes scanned Aaron's battered body with loathing.
PHARAOH
"Now look at you tiger tails, cursed teeth...
You're the beast.
And beasts... must be put down.
Your entire race is filth."
With a sudden burst of fury, he struck Aaron hard across the face.
Aaron dropped to the ground, blood spilling from his mouth as he gasped and coughed.
Then, the Pharaoh raised his hand, summoning an orb of crackling energy. A glass-like sphere, glowing with violet-red light, formed in front of Aaron's face.
PHARAOH
"I'm going to destroy you."
KIYOHIME (whispers)
"I didn't know Moses had a brother..."
She clenched her fists. Time was up.
KIYOHIME
"I need to move now."
Her invisibility dissolved with a flicker. Her brown eyes flashed, turning a vivid violet as the Toki no Me the Eye of Time activated.
Time fractured.
Purple energy spiraled around the Pharaoh, halting him mid-motion frozen in a moment between thought and breath.
She dropped from the rafters like a blade.
Her katana shimmered into existence then plunged through the Pharaoh's back, bursting through his chest in a spray of divine ichor.
He gasped, frozen but aware.
PHARAOH (strained)
"Who… are you…?"
KIYOHIME
"Don't worry about it."
She yanked her blade free and spun aiming to cleave his neck.
But a shield of light burst between them deflecting the blow.
She skidded back. Her eyes flicked sideways
The High Priest, Hem-netjer, stood with both arms raised, his violet and blue robes swirling in unseen winds. Spiraling coils of blue and purple energy wrapped around him, weaving into the Pharaoh's divine foreshield like living threads of protection.
Hem-netjer's hand trembled as he scribbled the words into the air with sacred fire: I must protect the Pharaoh, no matter the cost. The vow hissed in his mind like a curse.
Then his gaze snapped up, his voice cutting the chamber like a blade.
"You demon… you dare raise your hand against our Pharaoh?"
Suddenly, the palace doors burst open. The Medjay stormed in first two, then four. Their obsidian blades shimmered in the torchlight, raised in combat stances.
Kiyohime turned sharply, her serpent-like eyes narrowing as she assessed the new threat.
KIYOHIME (thinking):
I've already stabbed the Pharaoh. I don't know what these soldiers are capable of...
Her gaze snapped to Aaron still in chains, slumped on the floor.
I can't fight them all... but I can run. I have to get him out. Then find the others.
With a cry, she dashed forward. Her twin blades flashed snikt slicing through Aaron's chains in a single sweep. A golden ring of spiraling energy erupted around her: the Toroidal Energy Field. Time shimmered and warped at its edges.
Kiyohime hoisted Aaron over her back.
BOOM!
The wall exploded outward in a blast of force and light as she hurled herself through, vanishing into the dawn just as the sun breached the horizon.
Inside, the Pharaoh, frozen mid-motion from her earlier strike, began to stir. His voice cracked through the stone halls.
PHARAOH:
"GET HER!"
The Medjay leapt through the hole, all four in pursuit, vanishing into the city below.
The Pharaoh groaned, gripping the bloody hole in his stomach. Already, dark veins of divine magic were threading through the wound, stitching his flesh together.
Hem-netjer stepped closer.
"Are you OK my Pharaoh?"
"I'm fine," the Pharaoh growled. His eyes glowed. With a snap of his fingers, a long, black staff shimmered into his hand its top crowned with a cobra's head. "Come to me, Satan Matteh Choshekh."
He rose fully, the staff vibrating with raw, infernal power. He and Hem-netjer stepped to the gaping hole in the wall and looked down upon the kingdom.
The sun blazed across a city in chaos.
Below, fires burned across rooftops. Explosions rocked the streets. Freed slaves battled soldiers. Citizens ran screaming, trampling one another in panic.
"The world's ending!" someone screamed.
"Where is our Pharaoh? Where are the gods?!"
Another voice cried, "Look look at the sky!"
Both the Pharaoh and Hem-netjer lifted their gaze. And there, approaching from beyond the atmosphere, they saw it.
A tide of black and white energy, Energy of the end times, endless in scope. It devoured everything in its path stars, planets, fragments of time itself. Suns vanished like sparks swallowed by a storm. Reality warped and collapsed where it touched.
"I am not afraid," the Pharaoh said, his voice firm. "I will protect this world. With this staff, I am all-powerful."
"I know, my lord," Hem-netjer replied, eyes wide with awe. " Lucifer hath given you the reign to be so."
The Pharaoh's grip on his staff tightened.
"Yet they panic," he said bitterly. "As if they still doubt. It is time they remembered who I am. Time they feared why I wear the crown."
The High Priest bowed his head. "Yes, my lord."
The Pharaoh turned his glowing eyes toward the horizon where the black-and-white energy tore across the sky.
"Make sure she dies," he said coldly. "And bring Aaron back to me. I need to end his legacy with my own hands. Him and Moses."
He stepped forward, the staff pulsing in his grip. "And tell the soldiers to put the slaves back in order. Calm the citizens. I will protect this planet with our divine foreshield."
"Yes, Pharaoh," Hem-netjer said, nodding quickly. "I'll see to it immediately. I'll send more soldiers after the girl. I'll calm the people, and I'll order the traitors and slaves rounded up. Executions public and immediate."
The Pharaoh didn't reply. He stared out over the chaos of his city his lips parted, not in fear, but in anticipation.
Far below, Kiyohime sprinted through crumbling streets, the four Medjay relentless in pursuit. Flames danced in the distance. The dawn of a new age or the end of all rushed to meet them.
Kiyohime's eyes flicked to the rising chaos behind her as the Medjay pursued. Four of them, their obsidian blades glinting in the pale light, were closing in, shooting energy crystals at her. With Aaron still draped over her shoulder, she swiftly dodged, her movements graceful but purposeful. Her Toroidal Energy Field activated with a soft hum, twisting the very air around her. The energy crystals veered off course, sailing harmlessly into the distance.
But they were too fast she could feel them gaining on her. Her heart raced as the pressure mounted. Soon, they would catch up. As one crystal shot toward her, she spun on her heels, her gaze narrowing.
KIYOHIME
(under her breath)
"Mutation style… Murasaki Enmu."
A deep, violet mist began to pour from her mouth, spiraling out and consuming the surrounding area. The mist thickened, enveloping everything. The Medjay faltered, unable to see through the dense smoke.
They shot up into the sky, searching, scanning the fog below. Each one looked down, waiting for Kiyohime or Aaron to appear or for the mist to lift.
Suddenly, from four different directions, Kiyohime emerged. Each figure looked like her, running at full speed, carrying Aaron.
The Medjay blinked in confusion. "She… she can create clones?" One of them called out, realization dawning.
Without wasting another moment, they split up, each one chasing after one of the clones. But the real Kiyohime and Aaron remained hidden within the smoke, still unseen, watching from below.
KIYOHIME
(whispering to Aaron)
"Looks like they're gone."
With a slight shift, she began running in the opposite direction. As they moved, Aaron, still clinging to her shoulder, groaned softly.
AARON
"Thank you… for rescuing me.
Who… who are you? Are you a friend of my brother? Moses?"
Kiyohime's eyes flicked toward the horizon, her expression unreadable.
KIYOHIME
"You could say that."
They dashed through the kingdom, the sounds of conflict echoing around them. Soldiers fought soldiers; slaves, now freed, clashed with their former masters. Citizens scattered in fear, running from the chaos. The entire world seemed to be unraveling before her eyes.
Kiyohime's gaze shifted upward. The sky was swirling with ominous energy a vast, black and white force closing in on the planet. The destruction was inevitable. She could feel the weight of it bearing down on them all.
KIYOHIME
(whispering to herself)
"It's already begun… The escape plan is in motion."
As they neared a smoky intersection, Kiyohime's sharp eyes locked onto something someone through the haze. It was Noah, standing tall, his wife and daughter behind him. They were fighting alongside Hunter and a group of freed Israelites, holding back a squad of palace guards.
Kiyohime's pulse quickened. She had found them.
Rushing forward with Aaron still on her back, she watched as the Israelites struck the guards with glowing fists Fists of Faith and saw Hunter carving down berserkers with clean, sharp slashes.
Kiyohime reached them and dropped to their side.
"I guess the escape plan came early."
Hunter grunted, slicing through another attacker.
"Yeah. I guess some of the guards couldn't keep secrets forever. We shouldn't be surprised the compound was already crumbling. Word spread faster once they saw the sky... the truth about the end of the world."
Noah looked up, eyes intense.
"We must get everyone to the boat. My father told me to save them all."
Kiyohime nodded.
"I know the way. Just follow me."
She gently set Aaron down. A wave of Israelites with tiger tails surrounded them, some gasping.
"Aaron? The legendary Aaron? You're alive! We thought the Pharaoh had killed you!"
Aaron, weak but breathing, responded,
"Still alive... But where's my brother?"
The Israelites began to carry him off, promising to explain everything.
Noah stepped forward, eyes glowing with determination.
"We don't need to find the boat... I'll call it to us."
His hands glowed with radiant white light.
"This is the power of faith."
Suddenly, the earth rumbled. In the distance, the boat erupted from the ground, gleaming with holy energy. It soared through the air, glowing like belief itself. Palace foot soldiers clung to it, screaming, before falling as it accelerated toward the group.
Hunter's eyes widened.
"Perfect. We get on and head home."
Kiyohime's voice was urgent.
"Wait we still don't know where Adamus is!"
Hunter responded,
"We'll find him after we get on that boat!"
But before they could move, the sky darkened. Floating above them were four figures the Pharaoh's elite soldiers: the Medjay.
They hovered like shadows with divine light pouring from them.
"We've found you," one said. "No more clones. No more illusions. You demon this ends now!"
They raised their arms and unleashed a barrage of crystalline light beams toward the entire group.
The first blasts struck Noah his white aura of faith flickering. The boat faltered in the sky, crashing into the earth far away. Chaos erupted.
Kiyohime and Hunter locked eyes.
"No matter what protect Noah," Kiyohime said.
All around them, the crystal beams struck Israelites, slaves, even innocent citizens. The Medjay didn't care they just kept firing.
Kiyohime clenched her jaw.
"You take two, I take two."
Hunter grinned.
"Deal."
Kiyohime activated her Toroidal Energy Field a higher dimensional vortex spun around her, twisting debris and warping the beams. The attacks missed their targets, civilians shielded by her force.
Hunter, unnoticed, leapt high into the air.
"Let's see if that new technique works..." he thought.
The Israelites had taught him much about faith, about their God, about believing in something beyond himself.
Blue energy surged through his blade coated with a halo of white, like faith itself.
He unleashed a mighty wave that detonated in the sky sending two Medjay flying back.
Landing beside Kiyohime, he smirked.
"Looks like I have the power of faith now."
She glanced at him, impressed.
"So… you've been converted?"
He grinned as white energy surged around him.
"I believe now. In them. In their God. And in the mission."
Then he turned back toward the battlefield.
"I'll take these two. You stick to the plan!"
Kiyohime nodded and charged the other two Medjay, her energy field swirling like a celestial storm.