Ryan went back to his room, his thoughts a tangled mess. He flicked off the light, and then collapsed onto his bed, too drained to examine the papers scattered across the floor.
'I haven't overcome my nightmares, yet that chamber KV5-14 visions, time stop at coffee incident, now at all time, Professor James...'
Frustration bubbled within him. This chaos felt new. He had never experienced such turmoil. His life took a devastating turn at eight when his parents died in a bus accident. Sent to an orphanage, he was haunted by nightmares two to three times a week, starting the night after their funeral.
'What a joke…' he sighed again.
Sitting up, he lifted his shirt. Under the dim moonlight filtering through the window, he inspected his chest for symbols or the clock image. There was nothing. No signs of leftover marks whatsoever.
'Was it also a new form of nightmares…?
Then, a thought struck him. "But today, the coffee did stop midair when others were around me…"
He lay back, staring at the ceiling, and drifted into slumber.
Not long after, something changed. His chest glowed softly with an ethereal blue light beneath his shirt.
***
Ryan now stood in a chamber filled with scrolls, parchments, and hieroglyphic symbols. The air was humid and heavy with dust, like the breath of an ancient library.
'This is… the same library chamber from my vision?' he thought.
It was indeed the same place, down to the very spot he had left. But now, shadows clung to the corners. The faint light from a few brazier torches barely illuminated the room.
The priest who had once gazed at him was gone. Silence enveloped the library, broken only by the quiet scribbling of priests working under oil lamps not far from where he stood.
'Guess they also know the meaning of working overtime,' he mused.
Feeling the scrolls he was still touching, he flinched and left the area.
'It's too dark for me to read. Bringing the scrolls under the lights may cause commotions because they can't see me. Not to mention bringing the torch, haha… that would be a disaster.'
With a chuckle, Ryan moved southwest, heading toward the treasury section. He recalled the layout of The Temple Library of Medinet Habu. The treasury lay southwest from the entrance, while the scriptorium was in the northeast.
He approached cedar wood double doors, locked tight with a massive bronze lock. Two guards stood on either side, their eyes scanning the dim light.
'Guess the records were right… It really has security measures like mentioned in the records.' Ryan thought
He studied the mythological carvings on the door leaves.
'Winged Isis and Nephthys… Anubis and Horus…'
'Goddess and Gods guarding the treasury…'
He exhaled, and left the treasury with disappointment. He was eager to see the artifacts and jewels inside the treasury.
'Never mind," he muttered to himself. "I've seen most of them on the records anyway…"
As he walked down the dimly lit corridor, a sudden voice echoed behind him.
"Ha-khah we-kh Her-khet-ep Dje-ba-a Khnu?"
Ryan jolted, a stifled gasp escaping his lips. He turned around to find the priest, the same one who had gazed at him earlier, standing before him.
It was the ancient Egyptian language!
It meant, 'Are you the newly appointed time master?'
Confusion gripped him. 'How the hell he can see me while others cannot? And what did he mean by "Time Master"?'
'"Ha-khah Mu Het-ep, Ha-khah Khah-w puh Ha-khah"
(Excuse me, are you talking to me?)
Ryan gulped, 'Lucky I can speak this language.'
"Ha-khah Khes." the priest replied.
(Yes.)
"Khenti Dje-ba. Heh."
(Time Guardian. You.)
"..."
The words hung in the air like a thick fog.
"What the hell are you talking about…" Ryan muttered, disbelief etched across his face.
"You are a Time Guardian." the priest insisted, his voice steady.
Ryan's jaw dropped.
"You can speak English?"
"Of course. Because I am also a Time Guardian."
A rush of understanding flooded through Ryan.
That explained why the priest could see him while others could not.
"Follow me," the priest urged. "We can talk freely in my chamber."
Ryan hesitated.
This was no ordinary encounter. He felt a pull—an urgency to uncover the truth behind this bizarre revelation.
"Time Guardian?" he echoed, his mind racing.
What did it mean? What was his role in all of this?
The priest gestured for him to follow, leading Ryan deeper into the shadows of the corridor.
***
The young priest guided Ryan out of the Library and into the shaded corridors of Medinet Habu Temple. They approached the priest's quarters, a place that held secrets and whispers of ancient rituals.
He opened a chamber door, the creak of wood echoing softly. With a subtle gesture, he invited Ryan inside.
The room was modest—about 3 to 4 meters long and 2 to 3 meters wide. The limestone floor felt cool beneath Ryan's feet. The walls, made of thick mud bricks, seemed to breathe history.
In the center stood a stone pedestal, worn but sturdy. A niche for sacred images loomed against one wall. Benches lined the sides, offering a place for contemplation. A small altar, storage compartments, and an oil lamp cast flickering shadows.
The room had a small opening for ventilation.
"Sit," the priest said, motioning to the bench. Ryan complied, feeling the rough texture beneath him. The young priest settled on the opposite side.
Without further ado, he introduced himself.
"My name is Paser. I was born and lived in this era, here in Egypt. I can talk fluently in English because I lived in England during the Napoleonic War in 1804."
"What..the..?" Ryan's jaw dropped. Again.
Paser continued, "You may not believe everything, but you must believe this: we can travel through time and dimension."
"What are you even talking about…?" Ryan sighed, rubbing his temples. "Ah, I know, I am in a dream. I must have slept over…"
Paser shook his head, "No, you are not."
Ryan blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Paser kept silent.
Sigh..
"Alright. What is Time Guardian?" Ryan finally gave up.