The dark burial chamber was deathly silent, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing.

After experiencing the agony of having their hearts pierced, the three of them each had their own thoughts racing through their minds.

After a short while, Dawn forced himself to stand. Pulling out his wand, he ignited a flame and burned away his excavated heart, along with the blood splattered on the ground.

It might have been unnecessary, but he didn’t want to leave anything behind in a place so steeped in curses.

The warmth and light of the fire slowly drove away the chill.

Fatima took a deep breath, forcing herself to forget what had just happened, and walked toward the golden inner sarcophagus. Once again, she raised her hands and began casting.

Normally, Egyptian pharaohs would have a sacred scarab placed upon their mummy.

Since Harris had said that the tomb of Tutankhamun contained a real sacred scarab, perhaps it was inside this coffin?

She knew the chances were slim, but after recalling the Anubis that had pierced her heart moments ago, Fatima still harbored a faint glimmer of hope.

With a flick of her wrist and a murmured spell, she cast a levitation charm.

A deep rumbling echoed through the chamber.

The lid of the sarcophagus shifted open.

The inner coffin, made of gold, had not been enchanted with any protective magic, so it lifted easily.

Inside, another ornate jar floated out. Fatima examined it carefully, but, to her disappointment, found that the lid bore only decorative carvings—no inscriptions.

“Huh?”

When she looked inside the coffin, Fatima suddenly froze, letting out a startled gasp.

There was no mummy inside—only a golden garment and a few decayed bones.

“Amenhotep IV didn’t mummify himself? He must have been truly devoted to his religious reforms—to abandon the resurrection rites passed down by generations of pharaohs.”

Fatima murmured softly, looking down with regret at the pharaoh’s decomposed remains, untouched by embalming.

Dawn came closer.

Ever since they had entered the tomb, he had noticed that all the magical energy circuits converged at the sarcophagus.

After a moment of close inspection, he found runes connected to the word “Open” and tapped them one by one with his wand.

A sharp sound followed.

The bottom panel of the golden sarcophagus began to rise to one side, pressing the pharaoh’s remains into a corner and revealing a large dark hole beneath.

“This must be the passage to the outside,” Fatima said, taking a deep breath.

She glanced at Dawn, admiring once again how quickly he could find the mechanisms that activated secret doors.

But she knew now was not the time for small talk.

Just as she was about to send her black cat familiar into the tunnel to scout ahead, a sudden scream from Amir shattered the silence!

Still traumatized from what they had just gone through, Amir had been desperate to leave the tomb. The moment he heard there was an exit, he hurried over, gripping the edge of the coffin to jump down.

But suddenly—

The skeletal hand that had been shoved aside with the sarcophagus base moved! It reached out and grabbed his ankle!

Both Dawn and Fatima froze in alarm.

Before either could react, however, the bony hand slowly withdrew on its own.

“Ahhh!” Amir screamed, scrambling away from the coffin, clutching his leg in panic.

“Don’t move! Let me see!” Fatima shouted, keeping a safe distance while examining the spot where the bone had grabbed him.

On his ankle, a line of glowing red letters was slowly searing itself into his skin—like a brand.

“‘To the one who disturbed the pharaoh’s rest—I pardon your trespass and grant you life and treasure. But in return, you shall dedicate your existence to eradicating the faith of Egypt’s gods.'”

Fatima squatted down, reading the blood-red words under the dim light of her dying flashlight. “‘I shall watch you until the end of ages—or fade away with the last of belief.'”

Dawn raised an eyebrow thoughtfully.

“So that’s it. Amenhotep IV led us here so that we’d inherit his mission—to overthrow the old Egyptian deities.”

Fatima nodded in agreement.

But when she saw the words “grant you life and treasure,” her expression became complicated. “Then… the golden chamber wasn’t a curse after all?”

“Probably not,” Dawn said with a shrug. “According to that inscription, it was Amenhotep’s reward to us. I’m not sure what the golden discs’ light did to us, but it’s probably beneficial.”

“Carter was just unlucky,” he added after a moment. “He happened to have necrotic insect eggs inside him, and that turned a blessing into a curse.”

He glanced at the flame-like mark still visible on his wrist and sighed, feeling a twinge of regret for the unfortunate man.

Then, a realization struck him.

Now he understood why Amenhotep IV hadn’t abolished religion entirely, but instead replaced the old gods with Aten.

Was he trying to use faith itself to create a benevolent god—a deity of pure life and light?

The thought made Dawn sigh inwardly.

Amir interrupted his thoughts with a nervous tone. “Hey, what about me? What’s going to happen to my leg?”

“Don’t worry,” Fatima said after thinking it through. “Amenhotep wanted us to destroy faith in the gods—but in modern Egypt, hardly anyone believes anymore. Even tombs and temples are just tourist attractions now.”

She pointed to the final line of the curse: “So, I think this mark won’t affect us much. It’ll probably fade on its own in a few days.”

After saying that, Fatima climbed onto the sarcophagus, cast protective charms on herself, and immobilized the bones with a binding spell. Then, she jumped into the tunnel below.

Dawn narrowed his eyes.

He noticed that even though Fatima hadn’t touched the bones, the moment she passed through the tunnel entrance, the same blood-red inscription appeared on her ankle.

“So… passing through the tunnel itself is part of the ritual,” he thought aloud.

He raised his wand, considering burning the bones entirely—but hesitated, fearing it might trigger something worse.

After weighing his options, he sighed and chose to jump in as well.

Compared to potential hidden dangers, accepting the curse seemed safer. Besides, Fatima’s reasoning made sense.

As he passed through the tunnel, a sharp sting spread across his ankle. It quickly faded—but he knew the mark had been carved into his skin.

The tunnel sloped downward like a chute—a design Egyptians seemed particularly fond of.

Dawn could feel his body spinning and sliding around bends, unsure where he would end up.

After an uncertain stretch of time—his thighs burning from friction—he finally reached the end of the chute.

Fatima was already there waiting. A few moments later, Amir came tumbling down with a scream.

The flashlight had completely died, so Fatima conjured a small orb of light in her palm, illuminating their surroundings.

Another stone passage—familiar and unwelcome.

Dawn groaned inwardly. He doubted he’d want to see another stone corridor for a long, long time.

The three exchanged glances, sighed together, and trudged forward.

This passage was rougher than the others—no ornate carvings, no polished floors, just uneven stone underfoot.

But there was one mercy—it was short.

After no more than twenty minutes of walking, they reached the end and found a long, steep staircase spiraling upward.

The stairs were built from rough greenish stone—hundreds, maybe thousands of steps.

Their eyes met again, hope flickering between them. After sending the black cat ahead to check for danger, they began the climb.

This time, the path was peaceful—no traps, no illusions. It felt almost… ordinary.

Their pace quickened.

At last, they reached the top. Overhead, a movable stone slab fitted with a handle waited.

Before Fatima could stop him, Amir grabbed it eagerly and shoved it open.

With a grinding sound, sunlight spilled through the widening crack—warm and bright, carrying the scent of desert wind and sand.

Overjoyed, Amir pushed harder, lifted the slab, and scrambled out.

Dawn followed close behind.

When he emerged, he found himself standing in the ruins of a temple—half-buried in sand, its pillars crumbling, the desert stretching endlessly in all directions.

No one was around.

Looking down, he saw the sand already closing over the hole they had come from. No trace of the passage remained.

“Sealed by magic—only openable from the inside,” Dawn murmured, stamping lightly to confirm the sand was solid.

“Hey! Watch where you step, kid—you almost crushed me!”

Fatima’s head popped up from the sand, glaring at him—but her irritation quickly melted into joy at seeing open sky again.

Blue Sky. White clouds. Endless sun.

The three of them stood or sat on the hot sand, speechless for a while.

Dawn felt dazed. After being dragged into Tutankhamun’s tomb for such bizarre reasons, standing under the open sky again felt almost unreal.

“Hey! Let’s divide the loot!”

___________

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