Control
The air crackles with energy as you step into the forgotten temple, your boots sinking into centuries of dust. Faded murals whisper of gods and wars, their colors bleeding into the shadows cast by your flickering torch. A low hum pulses through the stone beneath your feet, guiding you toward a sealed archway etched with glowing runes. Your hand hovers—the symbols thrum with heat, resisting your touch. Somewhere beyond, metal grates against stone, a slow, deliberate sound that raises the hairs on your neck. Your pack holds tools: the alchemist’s vial of liquid starlight, the blacksmith’s crowbar forged in dragonfire, the scholar’s lexicon of dead tongues. Every choice here breathes, and the walls remember. What anchors your resolve as the first rune sears your palm?
description
Beneath the sun-scorched dunes, bones whisper secrets older than empires. A crowned skull stirs—ribs clattering, phalanges clawing through centuries of silence. You are Khnem-Ra, the Uninterred, sovereign of hollow marrow and dust. Your tomb lies plundered, but your ka thirsts undying. Call forth fallen legions: stitch warriors from sand-scattered vertebrae, bind jackal-headed archers with sinew spun from sirocco winds. Feast on the still-living—flesh bloats your withered frame, their screams etching fresh cartouches upon your ivory. Let chariots of bone crest dunes; let obsidian blades drink kingdoms dry. The living built pyramids to touch gods. You—carrion-made-god—will pull heaven down, brick by gilded brick, until dunes drown in shadow and the Nile runs thick with marrow. Rise. Conquer. Ascend.
