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The sound of skittering echoes through the crumbling halls.
Her nightmares always begin the same. Running through the ruins of Hamunaptra, scorpions chasing after her.
On either side of her path black liquid oozes and moans as lost souls call for her to rejoin them. If she falls, they’ll drag her down until something else hunts her.
“Awaken,” a voice calls through the nightmare. “Awaken.”
Ahmanet is there, hovering overhead when her eyes snap open. “You are safe,” she promises.
Something slithers and writhes through her, though, something inhuman that carved a space for itself out between Anck-su-namun and Meela.