A.N. I am more than aware that the pacing/writing on this has been... subpar. I apologize. I'm going to try harder to flesh out who these characters are now, and why they act the way that they do.
Mayor Baracs paced his office. Presley was here, in this city. It was funny, really, how far the French had come. Europe had been a backwoods, poverty-stricken continent filled with illiterate savages. But now, it was considered the fashion and social center of the world. The irony was killer.
"Master, what is your plan for capturing Presley?"
"Quiet, snake," Scarab snapped, "I'm plotting!"
It was true that things had taken a turn. The whole world had moved on, Egypt had not. No. Scarab had not. What was the point of eternal life if one could not enjoy it? And, with Presley out there, there was no way the evil wizard COULD enjoy his life. Their ancient battle had come to a head when the mummies were annihilated; they could not, as it turns out, protect Wesley forever. But he had adapted. The reincarnated pharaoh had barely lost his defenders for a few minutes before donning their armor and going into battle.
The world was filled with irony- in defeating Presley protectors, Scarab had made it more difficult than ever to actually destroy the boy.
He would burn Paris to the ground to end this endless loop of life; living as a dying monster was too terrible to describe in words. His flesh dripped from his bones, his blood coagulated and clung to his drooping tendons, and his skin, it stank of death.
If this was his eternity, death would be preferable. But since his immortality was linked to Presley's soul, the only way for him to lose it is if Presley's soul were to be forever banished from the mortal realm.
"What do we know about the attack yesterday?" Scarab hissed his annoyance to his mystic slaves.
One of his monsters, a large wolf, replied, "Presley was spotted at the school were the ex-mayor was giving his speech. Apparently there was an attack. Someone using a kwami was there!
Scarab stroked his chin. Kwami were a tricky bunch; you couldn't summon them the same way a god would be called. They were owned by a solitary master with a artifact controlling the mystic beasts. Presley may be fighting this newcomer, but Scarab had been burned in the past (literally) by third party entities.
"Destroy this... new threat. I've not the time or energy to deal with him. And that's my final word."
Whatever fallout came from fighting this new threat, Scarab could handle. He had only one goal in mind; to free himself of the eternal curse left to him by his own hubris. Everything he had done since destroying the mummy protectors: leaving America, traveling to France, seizing control of the government, all of it was to free himself of this horrifying existence. One more life wasn't anything to worry over.
"Oh, and let's eliminate the ex-mayor while we're at it- no reason to let him live if there's a chance of him trying to take the city back!"
Two. Two more lives then.