"Did he hide himself, or has he already left the catacombs?"
Wes carefully searched every corner of the underground tomb. The corridors were dark and silent, the only sound echoing through the stale air was his own light footsteps.
Yet, after his meticulous search, there was still no trace of Imhotep.
This confirmed to Wes that Imhotep had already left the catacombs.
Wes then departed as well, heading for Cairo. Piloting a flying car, his mind was filled with thoughts of the legend of the "Ten Plagues."
He longed to witness them with his own eyes, to feel the overwhelming power that defied the laws of nature.
Wes maneuvered the flying car skillfully, soaring over city after city, the scenery flashing past below him in a blur.
He managed to reach the hotel ahead of O'Connell and the others.
Not long after, O'Connell, Evelyn, and Jonathan returned to the hotel, only to see Wes already sitting leisurely in the lobby, waiting for them.
"Aren't you supposed to still be in the catacombs?" O'Connell asked in surprise. His hair was messy, his forehead beaded with sweat, the exhaustion of their frantic journey clearly written on his face.
But the next second, he dismissed the question entirely, for his mind was consumed with only one thought—leaving Egypt as soon as possible. "We have to get out of here. This place is far too dangerous."
Evelyn, however, had other ideas. She wanted to stay.
"Are you out of your mind?" O'Connell wasn't the only one dumbfounded—Jonathan had no idea what his sister could possibly be thinking.
"Didn't you see that mummy? Guns don't even work on him!" Jonathan said anxiously, staring at Evelyn with worry, afraid she would make an unwise decision.
But Evelyn stood firm. She believed that releasing Imhotep had been her mistake, and she wanted to put an end to it, to make things right.
The two of them argued endlessly, voices rising, emotions flaring hotter with each passing moment.
O'Connell tried to reason with Evelyn, insisting that the priority was protecting themselves and everyone else, not recklessly staying behind in such a perilous place. But Evelyn's stubbornness left him helpless.
In the end, the quarrel ended bitterly. Evelyn returned to her room, her mood heavy as if a massive stone weighed on her chest.
O'Connell and Jonathan went to the hotel bar, hoping to drink away their frustration.
They sat in the corner, staring silently at the liquid in their glasses. O'Connell's brow furrowed tightly, while Jonathan wore a blank expression. Neither spoke, each lost in his own troubled thoughts.
As for Wes—they had once again completely forgotten about him.
Wes, however, paid no mind to their disregard. Quietly, he sat nearby, not joining in their arguments, but calmly observing each person's shifting emotions.
Meanwhile, the adventurers who had also returned from Hamunaptra had gathered in the bar, loudly celebrating their narrow escape from that ghostly, accursed place.
They laughed boisterously, clinking glasses that rang with crisp notes, the bar overflowing with merriment as they each bragged about their survival, eager to prove how lucky they had been to escape death.
One man eagerly raised his glass, chugging his drink in triumph. But the very next second, he immediately spat it all out.
"Pffft!"
A wave of sputtering filled the bar, and all at once, everyone set down their glasses.
"What is this smell??" He frowned deeply, his eyes fixed on the wine glass in his hand. The liquid inside gave off a strange, unsettling scent.
"How could it be the smell of blood??" another man exclaimed in horror. His hands trembled as he set the glass down, his face turning pale.
Wes Elwin quickly noticed that the water in the hotel fountain had turned to blood. The crimson liquid shimmered eerily under the lights.
Outside the hotel, shrill cries filled the air. The people of Cairo were horrified to find that the river had also turned blood-red. Fish that once swam freely now floated lifelessly on the surface. The water carried a nauseating stench, rendering it completely unusable.
"The Ten Plagues!! The Ten Plagues have come!!"
Suddenly, massive hailstones fell from the sky, accompanied by the roar of thunder and the howl of raging winds, like the hammer of divine judgment at the end of days.
The hailstones pounded the earth like cannon fire, mercilessly destroying crops, houses, and livestock. People in the streets panicked, frantically seeking shelter, but the hail's destructive power was overwhelming. Those who couldn't escape in time curled up against walls or crouched beneath eaves, praying desperately for the disaster to end.
Now, even the most skeptical had no choice but to believe it—the legendary "Ten Plagues" had truly descended upon them.
Yet Wes noticed something unusual.
The scale of these so-called "plagues" was limited only to the city of Cairo. According to ancient records, the Ten Plagues should have swept across all of Egypt.
So far, only the Plague of Locusts, the Plague of Hail, and the Plague of Blood had appeared.
Everything seemed contained, controlled, nothing compared to the devastation described in legend.
Across Cairo's streets and alleys, people knelt everywhere in prayer. The devout pleaded earnestly to the Egyptian gods. Some elders knelt with their hands clasped, murmuring chants, while children clung to their parents, their cries rising into the night.
The chants grew louder, eventually merging into a single powerful wave of sound that struck at the hearts of all who heard it. Something invisible drifted skyward with their prayers, disappearing as though drawn away by a mysterious force.
"Faith?" Wes stood apart from the crowd, observing it all. What did these unseen powers truly mean?
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Imhotep's resurrection was no accident, but rather part of a carefully orchestrated design. He recalled his earlier experiences in Hamunaptra—behind all of this, a deeper purpose seemed to lurk in the shadows.
At this time, Egypt was under British colonial rule. Its economy, culture, and faith had suffered immense blows.
The British navy's cannons had shattered the nation's former pride. Against the might of the empire, their prayers had gone unanswered.
Life for the Egyptian people grew increasingly harsh. Many began to doubt the gods they once worshipped, turning instead to the belief that only the guns in their hands could protect them.
In such a backdrop, unleashing Imhotep to bring forth disasters and harvest faith—could this be the true purpose of the Egyptian gods?
Through these plagues, the gods seemed to be trying to rekindle the people's reverence for the old faith.
As for the lives lost along the way, to the gods, they appeared to matter little.
"What a fine play this is… Imhotep, O'Connell, Evelyn—all nothing more than pawns on the board." Wes thought to himself with a sigh.
°°°
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