Location: Egyptian War Camp – Noon
The desert shimmered under the harsh light. The air inside the command tent was still, thick with dust and memory.
Saijew sat over a map of the Nile routes, marking potential Imperial movements, when Magnolia entered without permission.
The boy's expression was unreadable. His golden eyes didn't burn this time, they glared cold.
"I need to talk to you," Magnolia said.
Saijew didn't look up. "You're supposed to be training."
"This is more important."
The general finally raised his head. "Then say it."
Magnolia stepped closer, voice tight. "You were there."
Saijew's brow furrowed. "Where?"
"At the oasis," Magnolia said. "You were the one who came for my father. You took him from me."
The words hit like stone.
For a moment, Saijew didn't breathe. He saw it, the heat, the glare, the boy screaming, the soldier turning to ash. The light that burned like Ra himself had descended.
He leaned back slowly. "So you remember."
"I remember everything," Magnolia said. His fists trembled at his sides. "I saw you threaten him. I saw your men grab me. And I saw you strike me down."
Saijew's voice stayed calm, but his eyes hardened. "You were a child. You weren't supposed to survive that."
Magnolia's tone cracked. "Then why did you let them take him?!"
"Because he lied," Saijew said. "And lies under the Pharaoh's reign have a cost."
Magnolia took a step forward. "You left him there!"
Saijew rose from his seat, towering over him. "He was gone before we could take him. The Pharaoh ordered him captured, not killed. But when the light came, when you burned through that platoon, there was nothing left. Only ash and glass."
Magnolia's throat tightened. "So you're saying you don't know where he is."
"I'm saying," Saijew said slowly, "that if your father lived, he didn't want to be found."
The silence between them stretched. Outside, the wind scraped sand against the canvas walls.
Magnolia's voice broke the quiet. "You think that makes it better?"
"No," Saijew said. "But it's the truth."
Magnolia turned toward the entrance. "Then I'll find him myself."
Saijew's hand came down on his shoulder. "If he's alive, he's not the same man you remember. That day changed everything, for him, for you, for Egypt."
Magnolia shook off the grip. "Then I'll see for myself what it changed."
He stepped into the sunlight. The scar on his chest pulsed once, a faint golden flicker, like an echo of the same fire that had once turned soldiers to ash.
Saijew stood inside the tent for a long time, staring at the map but seeing only that oasis, that boy, and the fire that burned brighter than any god.
He whispered under his breath, almost to himself, "I left him for dead because I thought it would end this."
Outside, Magnolia walked into the open desert, the heat rising around him in waves.
It hadn't.
The campfire's glow was dying when Magnolia finally stopped walking. The horizon was empty. The night wind pulled at his hair and the edges of his cloak.
He'd left the camp hours ago without permission, following nothing but instinct. Or maybe it wasn't instinct. Maybe it was something older.
A voice spoke from within him, low and steady.
"You feel him, don't you?"
Magnolia froze. He knew the voice.
"Ra."
The air shimmered before him, and golden light began to take shape, faint at first, then clear enough to see the outline of a man, the crown of the sun resting above his brow.
"You've walked the same sand your father once did," Ra said. "And now you've seen what he became."
Magnolia's jaw tightened. "You knew."
"I did."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
Ra's expression didn't change. "Because truth without strength destroys. You were not ready to know that your father carries the mark of Horus."
Magnolia's fists clenched. "He's alive. You could've told me that."
Ra's light flickered. "Alive, yes. But not as you remember. Horus's trial burned his weakness away. What came out of that tomb was no longer the man you loved. He carries divine truth now, and divine hatred."
Magnolia took a step forward. "Then I'll find him."
Ra's eyes narrowed. "You would fight what he's become?"
Magnolia's voice didn't waver. "If that's what it takes to bring him back."
Ra's light brightened. "Then follow the falcon's shadow. It will lead you where your blood calls."
The light faded, leaving only the night and the sound of wind.
Magnolia turned toward the dunes. He could feel something, a faint pulse in the sand, the same heat he felt as a child the day his father vanished. He started walking.
At the camp, Emma was the first to notice his absence.
She sprinted through the tents, her wind whipping up sand around her feet. Ren and Poison followed close behind. Sous stood near the outer gate, sword already in hand.
"He's gone," Emma said, voice shaking.
Sous frowned. "Gone where?"
She hesitated. "To find his father."
Ren's face darkened. "In the middle of the night? That damn idoit."
"Ra spoke to him," she said quietly. "I felt the energy shift. He's heading west."
Poison exhaled sharply. "Perfect. Let's chase the walking sun through the desert."
Sous ignored him. "He's not thinking straight. If he finds what's left of Isamu…"
Ren cut in. "Then he'll burn the desert down trying to save him."
Saijew's voice rang out behind them. "Enough."
The general stepped forward, cloak whipping in the wind. Kahn and Asam stood behind him.
"He's gone after the falcon's tomb," Saijew said. "We can't stop him. Not yet."
Emma's hands trembled. "Then what do we do?"
Saijew's gaze hardened. "We prepare. Because if Magnolia finds what Horus left behind, Egypt will never be the same."
The others fell silent.
Far beyond the camp, the first light of dawn was creeping across the dunes. A single figure moved toward it, slow, determined, the heat around him rising like a second sun.
Magnolia's steps left blackened marks in the sand. The air around him shimmered with faint fire. Ahead, carved into the cliffs, stood the same ancient temple his father had entered years ago.
He stopped at its threshold. The air that drifted out wasn't cold. It was alive, like the breath of something divine waiting to be acknowledged.
He placed his hand on the stone door.
"Father," he whispered. "I'm here."
The door shifted, slow and heavy. Light leaked through the cracks, golden, radiant, and blinding.
The tomb opened.
The stone doors closed behind him, sealing the world out.
Magnolia stepped forward, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The walls were covered in falcon engravings, their wings spread toward a single altar at the end of the chamber.
Light filtered through a crack in the ceiling, touching the floor where dry blood still stained the sand.
He stopped there.
Every nerve in his body told him he'd been here before.
"Father," he called.
His voice bounced off the stone, fading into the dark.
A low hum answered him, faint, rhythmic, like a heartbeat. The air grew heavier. The markings on the walls began to glow with blue-gold light.
Magnolia took another step. "Isamu!"
The altar flared to life. Flames burst upward, wrapping the stone in gold and white. From within the fire, a figure began to form, tall, armored, the falcon crest of Horus carved into his chestplate.
Magnolia froze.
The man before him looked like Isamu, but his eyes were not human. They burned with divine light, sharp and cold.
When he spoke, his voice was layered, part man, part god.
"You've grown."
Magnolia's throat tightened. "Father…"
Isamu studied him. "You carry Ra's flame."
"I carry your name," Magnolia said. "And I came to bring you home."
Isamu's expression didn't change. "Home is gone. Egypt is not what it was. Ra and Horus made their choice long ago. You are his vessel now. I am what remains."
Magnolia took a step closer. "You abandoned me."
"I died for you," Isamu said. His tone was not angry, not gentle, factual, heavy. "But Horus does not let the dead rest. He bound me to judgment. I became his sword. His eyes. His will."
Magnolia shook his head. "You let them turn you into this."
Isamu's light dimmed slightly. "You think you can save me?"
"I have to try."
The silence stretched.
Then the air shifted. A gust rolled through the chamber, carrying divine energy strong enough to shake the sand loose from the walls. Isamu lifted his hand, the falcon sigil burning bright.
"If you want to reach me, you'll have to prove Ra's flame is stronger than Horus's truth."
Magnolia's fire erupted around him, the golden scar on his chest glowing like molten sun.
"Then I'll prove it," he said.
Father and son stood facing each other, both radiating light, one burning with warmth, the other with judgment.
The tomb itself trembled.
The horizon shimmered with heat.
Saijew rode at the head of a small detachment, Sous, Emma, Poison, Ren, and Kahn following close behind.
The wind was harsh, carrying sand that stung their faces.
Emma's voice broke the quiet. "Do you feel that?"
Sous nodded. "It's not natural. The air's vibrating."
Saijew's jaw tightened. "He's found it."
Kahn frowned. "And if the father's still inside?"
"Then pray he doesn't recognize the boy," Saijew said.
A blinding flare lit the sky ahead, a beam of gold and white erupting from the cliffs. The sand quaked under their feet.
Ren cursed under his breath. "He's already fighting."
Saijew didn't slow. "Then we move faster."
They pressed forward, the light growing stronger with each step. In the distance, the Tomb of the Falcon shone like a second sun rising from the desert floor.
Within the Tomb of the Falcon, Within the Western Ruins, the air warped.
The heat from both of them turned the stone red. Every breath crackled.
Magnolia stood at the center of the tomb, eyes fixed on the man who used to be his father. The gold from his chest wound spread across his arms, marking him in light.
Isamu waited, motionless, divine energy rolling off him in waves. His wings of light folded and unfolded once, the way a hawk tests its reach before striking.
Neither spoke. The silence between them was heavier than any threat.
Magnolia raised his hand. Fire formed around his palm, shaping, twisting. The air bent as the heat rose. The flame did not scatter this time; it obeyed.
It curved upward, stretching and hardening into form, a longbow made of pure fire. Its string shimmered white, humming like the sky before a storm.
Isamu's eyes narrowed. "You've learned to shape it."
Magnolia said nothing. He drew the bowstring back. The fire condensed into an arrow, molten gold at its tip, white at the fletching.
The entire tomb trembled.
"Forgive me, Father," Magnolia said. "But I have to see if you're still human."
He released.
The arrow tore through the air, a beam of light that split the chamber in half. It hit the altar dead center and exploded, the shockwave tore symbols from the walls, sending waves of molten sand across the floor.
Isamu raised his hand, the falcon's mark burning bright. The blast struck his barrier, shattering it into shards of gold. The light wrapped around him, driving him back into the stone.
The fire faded. Smoke filled the chamber.
Magnolia lowered his hand. His chest heaved, but his eyes stayed fixed on the silhouette through the haze.
Then a voice spoke, not Isamu's. Deeper. Older.
"Wait, was that it..?"
Magnolia froze. The sound came from within him, from Ra.
His hand shook slightly. "A creation. You said I could shape fire as I see fit."
Ra's tone was different this time, quieter. "No, boy. That flame does not belong to me."
Magnolia frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"That was not the Sun's gift."
The light around him flickered.
"That power… it belonged to another. One not of Kemet. One whose light burned differently."
Ra's voice trailed off for a moment, almost as if he were speaking to himself.
"So she lives through you…"
Magnolia's eyes darted upward. "Who?"
Ra didn't answer. The light in his mind dimmed, leaving only a single, fragmented whisper.
"A Greek flame in an Egyptian vessel. You are not only mine."
Magnolia's pulse quickened. "What are you saying, Ra?"
Before the god could respond, the smoke cleared.
Isamu stepped through it, unscathed. His armor glowed white-hot where the arrow had hit, but his eyes were calm.
"So that's what you've become," he said. "Not Ra's heir… something else."
Magnolia gritted his teeth. "I don't care what I am. I'm here for you."
Isamu lifted his hand again, energy gathering around him like a storm. The falcon sigil on his chest pulsed, answering Ra's light with Horus's truth.
"Then show me," Isamu said, his voice echoing with divine weight. "Show me which god truly claims you."
The tomb exploded in gold and white. Fire met light. Judgment met creation.
Outside, the desert sky split open, a pillar of radiance rising high enough for Saijew's approaching force to see from miles away.
And far above them all, Ra watched through the flames, silent now, his divine gaze unsettled for the first time in millennia.