The ruins stood like a silent graveyard, the remnants of an ancient civilization slowly devoured by the desert. The wind moaned between the crumbling walls, carrying with it the scent of dust and something far darker—something that Ziya couldn't quite place, but knew instinctively. It was the same feeling she had when she touched the amulet beneath her robes, a cold prickling at the back of her mind, like a distant storm on the horizon, waiting to break.
As the squad moved deeper into the heart of the ruins, the temperature seemed to drop. The oppressive weight of silence pressed down on them, heavy and unyielding. Ziya's eyes flickered over the jagged stone, her senses tingling with a strange urgency. Khalid moved in front, his posture rigid, as always, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his sword. He scanned the surroundings with the practiced precision of a hunter, always alert, always waiting.
Ziya tried to push her unease aside. Focus. She had to stay focused. The curse was the mission, not the past—no matter how tightly the past clawed at her mind. She could feel the old magic within her stir, like a restless beast, but she tamped it down. The last thing she needed was for her control to slip now, in the shadow of these forgotten kings.
"This way," Khalid murmured, his voice low, pulling her from her thoughts.
They passed beneath a towering archway, its surface covered in faded hieroglyphs. Ziya's eyes skimmed the markings, ancient and weathered. If she had the time, she would study them, try to decipher the secrets they might hold, but there was no time for that now. The curse, the magic that twisted Egypt, it was closer than ever. She could feel it, like a pulse beneath the earth.
The deeper they went, the more she could sense it—the magic. It was ancient, yes, but it was not dormant. It simmered beneath the surface, alive in the stones, in the very air they breathed. It was as though the city itself was waiting, watching, knowing they were coming.
Her fingers brushed the amulet again, as though its cool silver might offer her some kind of solace. She was no longer the woman who had once bent the world to her will with a flick of her fingers. That Ziya had been consumed by the darkness she had wielded, and in the end, there had been no victory—only ruin. Now, she was someone else, someone trying to outrun the past. But in places like this, where magic had once been free and wild, it was impossible to forget.
"Stay close," Khalid's voice broke the silence, cold and commanding.
Ziya stepped forward, her heartbeat thudding loudly in her chest. There was something here. Something more than just the curse. The deeper they ventured into the ruins, the more the air seemed to hum, thick with power. It was like stepping into the heart of the storm, feeling the crackling energy before the thunder struck.
They reached what appeared to be the remains of a large courtyard, its center dominated by a stone pedestal, cracked and weathered by time. Around it, the remnants of ancient statues loomed, their faces worn smooth by centuries of neglect. Yet, even in their ruin, there was something unsettling about them. It was as if their eyes—once hollow—still watched, still waited.
"I don't like this," Tarek muttered under his breath, his hand tightening on the sword hilt. "It feels… wrong."
Ziya nodded slightly, her senses on edge. It was more than just the atmosphere. Something was alive here—something older than anything she had felt in years. She could feel it pressing on her mind, like an invisible weight, urging her to remember, to open the door she had locked away long ago.
Khalid turned to face the group, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Keep alert. The source of the curse is close. We're not alone here."
The words sent a chill through Ziya's spine, but she knew he was right. They had crossed into the heart of the ruin, where whatever magic had been bound here was now stirring.
Suddenly, a low sound rumbled through the ground, subtle but unmistakable. A tremor. The earth seemed to pulse beneath their feet, and the wind began to howl, carrying with it a whisper—a voice, faint but insistent, as though the ruins themselves were speaking.
Ziya's breath caught in her throat. It's calling me.
She shook her head, trying to dispel the thought. It wasn't possible. The magic had been sealed away long ago, after her, after the others like her, had left it behind. It was the curse that had brought her here, not the past.
But as she glanced around, she saw the same unease reflected in the faces of the squad. They, too, could sense it—the disturbance in the air, the oppressive presence that seemed to move in the shadows. Bashir, who had always remained stoic, looked particularly tense, his eyes scanning every corner of the courtyard as though expecting something to leap out from the cracks in the stone.
"We're being watched," Nefri muttered, her voice trembling with unspoken fear.
Before anyone could respond, the ground beneath them cracked open with a sharp sound, splitting wide in jagged lines. A deep, resonating growl echoed from the fissure as a figure emerged from the darkness below—a shadowy shape, tall and thin, with elongated limbs and a face obscured by a tangle of blackened hair. It was humanoid but wrong, twisted. The air around it shimmered with a faint, unnatural glow.
Ziya's heart lurched. It was a creature of darkness—no, not just a creature. It was an echo of what had been once—an embodiment of the curse itself, a thing born from the magic she had once wielded and abandoned.
Khalid drew his sword in one fluid motion, his gaze sharp and commanding. "Form up!" he ordered.
But Ziya didn't move. She couldn't. Her body was frozen, rooted to the spot as the figure stepped closer, its form becoming clearer in the dim light. It was the embodiment of everything she had left behind—everything she had feared might one day return.
The thing turned its hollow, empty gaze toward her, and for a moment, Ziya felt time itself stretch, the world bending around her.
"You've come back," the thing whispered, its voice a rasping echo that seemed to come from all around her. "You cannot run from what you are, Ziya."
Ziya's blood turned to ice.
She had never told anyone the truth of what she had been. But somehow, it knew. Somehow, this creature knew.
And it was waiting for her to make the choice.
To embrace the darkness once more—or to face the consequences of what she had done.