Location: Ruins of Napata, Sudanese Desert
The temple was a skeleton of a memory—pillars half-buried in sand, its roof a collapsed tribute to ancient skies. But within its heart, two living myths faced one another.
On one side stood Anpu, god of judgment, his shadow long and unbroken under the moonlight. On the other, a young woman cloaked in smoke and fire, her hair flickering like flame, her hands glowing with searing heat.
Suri had not asked for this power. It had ignited within her weeks ago—during an earthquake that no one else remembered, in a village that was wiped from the maps before it even had a name. Since then, she had run. Hidden. Burned.
Now, the predator had come.
"You are not of this age," Suri said, trying to steady her breath. "Why do you hunt me?"
Anpu tilted his head slightly, his jackal mask glinting.
> "Because fire lies."
She narrowed her eyes. "And shadows don't?"
He took a step forward. The wind died.
> "You carry the flame of Aserai, the Phoenix Queen. In your past life, you razed twelve cities for what you called balance. You believed destruction was rebirth."
Suri's eyes flared. "That wasn't me. I'm not her!"
Anpu didn't blink. "And yet her shard burns inside you. She has remembered. So must you."
---
The First Strike
Suri struck first.
With a scream, a wall of fire erupted around her and launched forward in a wave, disintegrating sand and stone alike. Anpu didn't dodge. He simply raised a hand—and the flames split around him like water around a stone.
"Your fury is clumsy," he said. "But potent."
Suri charged through the smoke, hurling spears of heat. Each blow left glass in the sand. Anpu weaved around them, his body a blur of smoke and dusk.
Then, in an instant, he was behind her.
A whisper.
> "Do you wish to burn away your past?"
She spun and punched blindly.
Her fist connected.
Anpu stumbled back, shadows cracking like stone.
Suri blinked. "You… bleed?"
A slow smile crept across his mouth. "All gods bleed when memory stirs."
---
Trial of the Flame
The temple trembled.
Ancient glyphs lit across the floor as the two combatants continued their dance—heat and void, spark and silence.
Suri's power surged. She remembered things she'd never known: a throne of ash, a dragon made of sun, her own voice giving an execution order with no remorse.
Tears slipped down her face as flames erupted again. "Stop showing me these things!"
Anpu advanced. "You must see. You must own what you were."
She collapsed to one knee. "I don't want to be her…"
Anpu raised a hand, and for a terrifying moment, she thought he would end her.
But instead—
He knelt.
Placed a single obsidian feather in her palm.
> "Then burn her away. And rise."
---
Elsewhere – Avalon's Archives
Isaiah stood before an ancient globe spinning in mid-air. Each rotation pulsed with shard signals, flaring red in places of power.
Lucian and Yena joined him.
"She's alive," Lucian said. "But the signature has changed. She's partially awakened."
Isaiah exhaled. "You think he's collecting them?"
"No," Yena said. "He's testing them."
Isaiah frowned. "Why?"
Lucian looked at the globe, then at Isaiah.
> "To find the ones worthy of remembering who they were—and those who should be erased."
---
The Price of Awakening
Back in the desert, Anpu vanished into mist, leaving Suri alone in the ruins. The obsidian feather still burned in her palm.
A voice echoed in her ears—not his, but hers.
> "You must become more than the flame."
She looked up at the stars, and in the distance, for the first time in days, felt nothing burning.
Only clarity.
---
In the Shadows – The Woken Hand
In a chamber of black glass and bone, the man in gray lit a single candle.
Anpu stepped from the darkness.
"You let her live?" the man asked.
Anpu's eyes glowed. "She is not ready to die."
The man hesitated. "And the Stormbearer?"
Anpu closed his hand.
Thunder echoed, though no clouds stirred.
> "He will be judged last."