The Antechamber
Their journey brought them to the temple’s antechamber, smothered in shadow and silence. Slade’s torch sputtered to life, casting flickering light across the crumbling masonry. A great stone door barred their way, its surface carved with strange glyphs that seemed to slither under the torchlight. As Slade heaved it open, the brittle structure groaned in protest, sending a jagged chunk of stone hurtling toward Honey. She narrowly sidestepped it, her breath catching in her throat.The Writhing Wall
Maat - The Despoiled Goddess of Balance
Further in, they came upon a plinth crowned by a statue of Maat, the goddess of balance, her scales shattered in a cruel mockery of justice. At her feet gleamed a massive ruby, a beacon in the darkness. Slade, ever daring, stepped onto the slippery surface, his muscles taut as he pried the gemstone free. Relief flooded the group as he retreated unscathed—until a harsh scraping noise echoed deeper within the corridor.Scorpions
Before anyone could react, a monstrous scorpion burst from the shadows, its claws snapping and its tail poised to strike. Honey’s pistol barked in defiance, the shots briefly staggering the beast before it lunged, swatting her to the ground. Slade and Alfie rushed to her aid, their weapons hammering the creature until it collapsed in a heap of chitin and ichor.The Defenders of the Tomb
Slade was the first to enter the inner chamber, and the stench of decay hit him like a wave. From the gloom emerged the risen priest, his rotted form shrouded in malevolent power. Slade fired, but the bullets ricocheted harmlessly off the creature’s ancient armour. As the priest loomed closer, rubble stirred at the room's edges, disgorging skeletal warriors with rusted blades.Daphne and Alfie fought valiantly as Honey and Menrit struggled to regain their footing. Each step forward was met with fierce resistance as more undead clawed their way from the temple walls. Just as hope began to waver, the Ankh Amulet around Slade’s neck flared to life, its golden light coursing through him. Empowered by its energy, he fought with a ferocity that turned the tide, forcing the priest back. Yet the creature refused to fall, its unholy vitality mocking their every effort.
Then came the final test.
Burial Chamber
Alfie stumbled into the burial chamber first, but an unseen force struck him down, flinging him back like a ragdoll. His limp body sprawled across the chamber floor, another cruel twist of fate in his harrowing journey. The burden now fell to Daphne and Honey. With Menrit holding the line against the horde of undead guardians, the two women edged closer to the sarcophagus of Apophis himself.The air was heavy, thick with ancient malice. Each step was a battle against the slippery floor and the oppressive force radiating from the tomb. At last, they reached the god’s prison, their voices trembling as they recited the ancient ritual: The Rite of Ra.
As the final words echoed through the chamber, a golden light burst forth from the tomb, its brilliance piercing the darkness. The black, writhing mass within shrieked and writhed as it dissolved into nothingness, its malevolent presence banished at last.
But as the dust settled and silence reclaimed the temple, one question lingered: had the Snake God truly been defeated, or had they merely opened the door to something worse.
Postscript
Three weeks later, the team sat in the shaded gardens of the British Archaeological Society, sipping ice-cold drinks. Alfie had once again recovered from his injuries. Mr Indestructable was Daphne's nickname for him now. Sir Francis, Thwaites, and Majib were reunited with their friends when they crossed the portal in the temple. After sealing the portal, the group returned to Cairo. As they relaxed, the society's director expressed the British government's thanks but added that the breach caused by Aphosis and his disciples had set off some unexplained incidents, including those in the Nile and Sudan.Whilst Sir Francis had to return to London accompanied by the ever-faithful Thwites, the others decided that their work in Egypt needed further study.
Final Remarks
We will hear more about the Mace Institute soon, but next, we will move our Pulp experience to turbulent seventeenth-century England.