Night had cast its veil over the edges of the desert when Soheib decided to follow the abandoned path leading to ruins near the pyramids. He sought a lost trace said to appear only to those bold enough to tread forgotten roads.
The air was still, biting his face with a dry chill, like the touch of an ancient stone. He dragged his steps slowly, watching the horizon pierced by faint threads of moonlight.
He had not expected to find anything in this forsaken place, yet his eyes caught a small glimmer among the sands. He bent down and discovered a carefully wrapped papyrus, as though a human hand had placed it there moments ago.
He hesitated briefly before opening it, then reached out with curiosity stronger than fear. The papyrus was cold, as if woven from the air itself, exuding the scent of ancient clay and the dampness of a bygone era.
He began reading the hieroglyphs etched upon it. The symbols danced before his eyes with a living pulse, as if they were not merely read but summoned. As he finished the last line, a dense gray mist, tinged with black, erupted from the papyrus, swirling around him like a vortex that swallowed the world whole. He felt nothing afterward except a weight upon his chest… and then, nothingness.
When consciousness returned, everything had changed.
The air was not that of the desert, nor the sky that of Egypt. He found himself standing in the middle of a cobbled street, flanked by buildings adorned with intricate decorations, clad in cold marble, shimmering under a faint gray light. A thin fog enveloped the city, not obstructing vision but lending everything a halo of mystery. Horse-drawn carriages passed silently, their passengers unseen, moving as if gliding over the surface of a hazy dream, where reality blurred with illusion, and every sound and movement seemed almost impossible.
He advanced cautiously. Everything around him was real, yet bathed in a delicate mist that dulled colors and pushed sounds to a distance, as though from another world. He lifted his head to the sky and froze.
A colossal celestial body loomed close, unnervingly near, drifting through space in a pale gray hue, radiating a cold light that bathed the entire city. It was neither the moon he knew nor a star, but a third entity, nameless and inexplicable.
His heartbeat quickened, and the ground seemed to spin faster than it should. He wanted to ask someone what was happening and approached a group of people. Their features were ordinary, yet something about their faces felt strange… as if they were indifferent. As he drew near, he heard them speaking in a language he had not heard in years—a tongue that reminded him of the hieroglyphs he had just read.
He hesitated, then pointed toward the sky and asked one of them:
– What is that?
The man smiled, answering with a cold, eerie calm:
– The moon.
Then he continued on his way without looking back.
Soheib stepped back.
Then sighed…
The word was simple, yet the way it was spoken made his heart tremble. How could that hanging planet be a moon? And why did the people act as if nothing were strange?
He muttered to himself:
– Am I in a parallel world? Or… am I dreaming?
He pinched his cheek hard, feeling real pain. Memories flooded his mind like a torrent of images: the ruins near the pyramids, the ancient papyrus, the mysterious fog, the darkness that had swallowed him. He felt on the brink of a discovery that could change his life, yet he did not realize he was about to lose it as he knew it.
He sat on the curb, staring at the stone pavement glimmering under the gray light. Everything was still—no birds, no wind, only the breaths of a city unknown to him. Finally, he lifted his head and spoke in a soft voice, carrying the remnants of an old resolve:
– Perhaps… this is a new beginning.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself for what was to come.
When he stood, a narrow smile curved his lips, one that reflected his state perfectly: neither certainty, nor hope, nor contentment.
Yet, that smile hinted at a hidden determination, a silent yearning to try.
In his previous life, he had learned a lesson he would never forget:
That he was not the kind of hero who triumphs in the end no matter how long suffering endures, or who finds a sudden path that leads to resolution, and that torment lingering in the corridors of time does not necessarily lead to happiness or peace. Sometimes, it conceals behind its veil a mysterious path that suddenly unfolds, shifting shapes, and igniting the story from its ashes.
And yet, he believed that as long as he could try, he must:
If the horizon was dark, if the cold, barren desert seemed endless, he had to move forward.
He walked along the path and soon noticed a tower rising slightly above its surroundings, clad in granite, vaguely reminiscent of the Cairo Tower overlooking the city.
He inhaled deeply and stepped inside.
There were no guards, no attendants, no one to question his presence. His mind was clouded after the shock of his sudden transition and the appearance of that massive celestial body they called a moon… which loomed like a great demon blocking the horizon.
He climbed to the top floor and gazed through the glass windows that reflected a muted light—a silvery glow that bathed the city in solemn stillness.
It was neither bright nor dim, but a silver beam that pierced the darkness of night with a beauty that stirred an inexplicable awe in his heart.
From his vantage point, the city sparkled as though a golden bracelet lay submerged in a sea of pearls and coral. He whispered in wonder:
> "Glory be…"
As he continued to stare, captivated, his attention was drawn forty seconds later to three massive structures, strangely familiar to him.
They shimmered under the silver moonlight, arranged from smallest to middle to largest, yet slightly differently than he knew—forming on the ground a precise fourth pyramid, two equal sides creating a right angle at the edge of the middle pyramid.
His heart leapt in his chest, leaving him breathless, overwhelmed by confusion.
He stepped hesitantly toward the formation, his heart brimming with questions:
Had this been an instantaneous transfer?
A return through time?
A leap into the future?
Or had he awoken from a long, dark nightmare?
Descending from the tower, he followed the path he had drawn for himself, sometimes jogging, sometimes sprinting as if pursued by a hidden beast.
After roughly fifteen minutes, he arrived to find a wall enclosing the structures on all sides.
Beyond the wall, scattered guards and enormous dogs waited—like enraged lions, ready to strike anyone who dared approach their domain.
He realized then that entering by force was impossible.
He stared in awe, exhaled, yet was not surprised; he had expected as much.
He paused, surveying the sand stretching before him like a sea of solid gold, restless and eternal.
The dunes piled up like the bodies of slumbering giants since creation began, while the wind howled like a lone wolf carrying golden dust upon its back.
Then, a hoarse voice cut through his chain of thoughts from behind:
– Hey, commoner! What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?!
He turned in shock. A man stood before him in a formal uniform resembling a police officer, though his shoulders were bare of any insignia. A small emblem caught his eye on the man's chest: a yellow sun encircled by delicate, shining threads, beneath which dangled the head of a black falcon with wide eyes. The emblem seemed made of metal he initially assumed was copper, yet its strange glint captivated the eye with every slight movement, stirring an inexplicable urge to touch it.
Soheib averted his gaze to avoid suspicion and lifted his eyes to the man's face instead. The officer's face was round, his belly protruding in a sign of contentment and laziness. Soheib stammered, his voice trembling:
– I… I… I'm lost.
He knew deep down that these were the guards and that whatever he attempted could lead to a dangerous situation. Yet the overwhelming desire sparked by the sight of those dark pyramids from his old world pushed fear aside and ignited a thirst for adventure.
The officer exhaled sharply in annoyance, glared at him, and furrowed his brows:
– If you come here again, I'll feed you to those hungry dogs!
Soheib's eyes followed the dog he held; its saliva dripped from its jaws, its eyes burning with hunger, as though he were a piece of meat waiting to be devoured. He took two steps back, irritation evident in his movements, but a stubborn gleam of determination shone in his eyes. He realized that this place might hold his only chance to return to Earth. How could he surrender?
He moved forward with heavy steps, muttering to himself:
– There must be a gap in their formation… the place is vast, and the number of guards is limited. They can't monitor everything efficiently.
But the rumble of his stomach silenced his thoughts. A sudden hunger swept through him like a hurricane. He decided to postpone his adventure for a while and first find work that would secure his survival.
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