-Sadie Kane-

This wasn't what I signed up for. Uncle Amos did not react well upon returning his ren to him. I made it worse trying to comfort him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Immediately, it hurt to breathe. Body shaking, and I could barely process the concrete room that I appear to be kneeling in now. A sickening wave of fear takes over anything else. I could barely hear my uncle's voice. "I'll do it," and my throat hurts with each syllable said.

I'm on alert to the response my uncle received. I won't forget that voice, a chill immediately traveling down my spine to hear "Do what?"

Our, since it's becoming clearer now that I'm experiencing a memory of my uncle's as I can gather my thoughts and disconnect slightly, right hand clenched into a fist. "Whatever it is you want from him, I'll do it." It still hurts for him to talk.

There's that cruel laugh, and my uncle notes he is moving towards him. "You'll pardon my name and allow me into the Per Ankh?" He kneeled, those blue eyes and the stupid smug smirk on his face make me want to punch him even more. He extends his hand to cup my uncle's chin to force us to look up, clearly not caring that he's causing further pain to my uncle's neck.

It's a scrying, and I can immediately puzzle out that we're related, Dad looks just like the man who is currently doing angry pacing. Uncle Amos is scared, having been trying to avoid looking until forced to by the German's hand.

"Only the Chief Lector can do that, Amos," Torsten explains. "Your father is in the position to urge it to fall through. What power do you have towards the Chief Lector?"

Our eyes are watering, the strain on his neck is incredibly painful at this point. I want to comfort my uncle, but visions don't cooperate in that manner.

"Don't you fucking do that," Jabari, my uncle's memories input for me, why isn't he just his dad? He stopped pacing, angrily taking in everyone in the room. "You are speaking to a Kane, Friedrich; don't think you can talk down to any of us." Us seemed to leave a bitter feeling in his head.

"Oh," if I have to hear Torsten's laugh again I think I will actually go mad, "now you decide to show weakness." He thankfully dropped his hand finally. "Took a lot out of poor Amos here, he's shaking quite a bit-"

"You don't give a shit, stop pretending," my grandfather continued his pacing, hands both in a tight fist.

A blink, and I notice Amos is trying to process what his father is doing in the scrying. Seeming confused about why his father seems stressed.

The German stands, "We finally at an agreement, Kane?"

Jabari stopped pacing again, and our eyes locked. Amos reads it as an order in his gaze, that he would be in trouble if he were to die here. My heart sinks, realizing he isn't expecting any kind of rescue from his father, and the idea hurts. Worse, the "no" that follows validates the obvious neglect.

"What a shame," Torsten fakes disappointment. "Well, do you prefer I send you pieces of your son back? Perhaps each month, start with a finger, then the next might be a toe-"

"Herr Friedrich," Jabari's voice boomed. "With the way you've contorted your thinking, you won't even get a friendly greeting from Anubis."

This man has the nerve to laugh again, pacing around my Uncle Amos. "We run out of threats already?"

I see Jabari continues to talk with his idiot cousin, but it is muffled and fades. Now we're at a table, fish and wine. People I don't recognize, but I sense my uncle is masking a sense of professionalism to cover his nerves. He doesn't like any of them, that part is clear. But he finishes his wine and realizes their faces change towards amusement as he sets the empty glass down.

Panic, the mask falls as he registers the glass was drugged. How long does it take to kick in? He gets his answer as he attempts to take another bite of fish and instead finds a disconnect between his hands and his brain. He quickly gives up, placing the fork down and dizzily looks back up at the faces still watching him.

Amos started reviewing and updated me that he expected to get drugged. That he walked into this clay supplier knowing they would do as much. Desjardins and he had agreed that it was what they wanted them to do. Having brought Mel to accompany him without telling her everything. But she's not a face at this table, having apparently retired early.

"Is the fish to your liking, Mr. Kane?" He identifies it's the owner taunting him, the others at the table laughing as if he had told a joke.

I snort at the mental note Amos makes to tell Michel never again. Being vulnerable like this, despite it being planned on, is quickly making him uncomfortable. Wishing Mel was here, to edge off some of the discomforts of being surrounded by threats like this.

"When will Iskandar learn to stop sending you fools here?" A feminine voice sounds off.

Uncle Amos leans back in the chair and registers that it takes effort to keep his head up at this point. "Even better, this is a Kane. We could hold him for ransom, I'm sure someone is bound to pay whatever amount is required for him back." A different male speaks greedily. My uncle quickly notes that Julius would have wanted to fight that guy way before now.

"No ransom," the owner shoots down quickly. "That would only draw more attention to ourselves. Besides, I am aware of Julius Kane."

A snort is Amos' immediate response. "You guys would just be a typical Wednesday for him."

"Cute," the man stands from the table now and slowly makes his way towards us. "Does he know you are here?"

"Thankfully for you, no."

"And what kind of reassurance is that?" The man snarls.

The effort to keep eye contact proves too much now, allowing his neck to relax. "Thought you said you know him," it almost comes out slurred, his tongue feeling too heavy to move.

"Ready the carriage," instructions directed to someone behind us. "And the girl, she's coming with as well. Wasn't expecting extra company but at least she retired herself so as not to waste more wine."

There's some panic in response to this. Amos hopes Mel is alert enough to escape, the plan isn't for her to also be captured. In a sad attempt to distract, "…Taste in wine is shit…"

"Excuse me!" Uncle Amos is slightly entertained that he was able to offend him so fast. "That is the finest wine from Italian fields. Your tastebuds are wrong, stupid American!" The owner stops his rant. "Gag him while you're dragging him outside. I don't tolerate rude guests, Iskandar's finest or not."

The drug is hitting strong, but he barely registers the pinching of his shoulders from being grabbed from the chair. Can barely process he is being dragged out of the dining room just before his vision goes completely blurry. Something shoved into his mouth, jaw aching dully. Amos registers that he's lost fighting the drug and accepts sleep at this point.

I'm alert to the shift, Julius and Amos are standing before the Hall of Age's double doors. Dad hesitates a moment, glancing at his younger brother. "You ready?"

They're dreading whatever lecture they are about to get. Skipped their courses for the day, having gotten into a fight the night before with some of their fellow initiates. Dad didn't necessarily need a response from Amos, taking a step forward to barely press his hands against the doors.

"If I say no, can we make a mad dash out of here?" Uncle Amos jokes in an attempt to lighten up the mood between them.

Julius opens the doors anyway, revealing the colored timeline leading down to the throne. Chief Lector Iskandar is sitting on the steps, and I register why my uncle is so tense, spotting their father in the room as well. "I don't recall summoning Amos here," Jabari speaks as they slowly make their way to them. "Nevertheless, step forward."

Dad tenses, but they keep making their way to them until they're about ten feet away from the steps. "Julius Kane," there's pride in their father's tone, "Chief Lector Iskandar and I are proud to announce that you have been invited to accompany a squadron for their upcoming mission."

Amos is confused, and so is Dad. "Uh, why?"

"Why?" Their father laughs in astonishment as if Dad asked the most ridiculous question he's ever heard. "This is an opportunity of a lifetime for every combat magician. Preparation for becoming a squadron leader in the future."

Dad's shoulders slumped a little. Uncle Amos knows it is disappointment towards being forced to follow the path their father has done as well. My uncle smiles a little, noting that an opportunity like this is rare and that their father arranged for it to happen.

"Their mission is a small problem with a beast on the outskirts of Thebes. You'll head out tomorrow morning; meet them at the museum by six." Jabari didn't seem to notice his oldest's disappointment.

Iskandar noticed, even despite the fake smile Julius put on. "This is optional; you do not need to go if you feel pressured."

Rather than take the out the Chief Lector just handed Dad, he straightens his posture instead, bowing. "Thank you; I am honored to take this on. I will not disappoint."

Extending an arm, my uncle pats his older brother's shoulder. "Congratulations."

Dad shoots him a frown. Both understanding that Dad doesn't want this. Amos knows though, this is apparently something they've talked about a few times.

My grandfather embraces Julius, congratulating him. "Come, I need to prepare you," he urges, gesturing back down the hall.

Iskandar clears his throat before they take a step. "Desjardins and I have a few things to discuss with Amos, Jabari."

A not-impressed look lands on Amos from his father. "I assume it's about the report he turned in?"

Dad opens his mouth as if about to protest that, but Amos gestures for him to wave it off. "No, but it requires your permission," the Chief Lector explains.

Jabari rolls his eyes, "Permission granted, just don't let anyone know."

Uncle Amos can't help but be confused by what his father meant as he watches him urge his brother down the hall. Going off about how 'energizing a mission is'. The doors slam loudly behind them, echoing down the hall.

A hand clamps on his right shoulder, making Amos jump before he realizes it to be the older magician. "Ignore him, he doesn't know anything," He reassures, a kind smile that helps my uncle calm himself. "Desjardins must have gotten a little carried away with his errands."

Amos is finally able to process that the Chief Lector had made physical contact with him as his hand goes to lift his chin some. "What happened?"

Great, he notieced the bruise. "Uh," Amos takes a step back, "spell went haywire."

Iskandar immediately didn't believe the excuse, but his hand lowered back to his side. Amos quickly realizes that he just distanced himself from the Chief Lector and panics. "My apologies sir, I-"

Iskandar rolls his eyes as if annoyed. "Combat magicians can be cruel, can't they?"

Uncle Amos' panicked words he tried to organize halted immediately, processing that Iskandar isn't actually bothered like he assumed he would be. "You're not the first to endure their wrath, Kane," he continues, approaching the steps now. "What's this about a report?"

It takes a bit for Amos to register what Iskandar asked him. "Oh, I turned in a report about a monkey's evolution into a man for a heritage report."

Iskandar nods, but it seems he already knows about it. "Much better than the continuous ranting on Narmer, don't you agree?"

Amos is thrown off by that. The Chief Lector sits at the steps, giving him an amused smile to the shock on his face. "Your brother will have the best tolerance level of any human being you can name."

He needs a moment to process that Iskandar isn't exactly keeping professional around him. Clearing his throat, he is trying to force himself to keep with the casual conversation that is unfolding. "I suppose you don't exactly enjoy having my father as your advisor?"

"He's a hard worker, but he's flawed by his ego," Iskandar plainly puts. "What do you think of Desjardins?"

Amos considers this another odd question for the Chief Lector to be throwing around. "Probably puts too much worry into what Julius and I are doing."

Iskandar weighs his answer for a moment, but keeps it to himself. The doors open, but the Hall of Ages fades. It hurts to breathe. Shaking again, except it's a thousand times worse than before. He blinks to try and clear his vision between heaving for air, Dad's worried face barely registers.

Amos struggles to say his name, everything is numb and hurts. "It's okay, we're getting out of here. Then we will go home, let you rest up. It's all going to get better from here, I swear-" Dad's panicked reassurance is interrupted from an explosion.

Amos couldn't care less at this point. Everything is screaming, and why is breathing so difficult? Dad's concern only makes Amos wish he wasn't this miserable, try and prove he doesn't have anything to be worried about.

Dad is talking to someone outside of his brother's vision. The heavy attempts to breathe lead to choking for the air some before Amos can regulate the panic lifts of his chest again. He needs to be strong for Julius, right?

Dad ends up putting his arm against his brother's back, the other under his knees before lifting him up. This hurts, and my uncle struggles to not express as much, but Dad's soothing words state he wasn't doing a very good job of it.

The added pressure on his back is making breathing that much more of a fight, but he tells himself he's safe now. To just focus on breathing. Dad's scared tone as he tries to reassure his brother that everything is fine, the pressure against his chest as Dad carries him helps in his attempt to keep calm.

Amos' shivering gets gradually worse though, and we both can't tell if he's just in that much shock or if he's cold. But eventually his attempts to just focus on breathing is hitting a breaking point. It hurts to lift his chest, but he forces himself to keep going. I'm not going to die in his arms damnit.

"It hurts," Uncle Amos can barely choke out.

"I know, just stay awake, please?" Dad pleas, and I can tell he's scared he's going to lose his brother.

Amos coughs, it feels like he's drowning and ran a marathon. "We're almost there," Dad tries to reassure.

The exhaustion catches up fast. "Can't breathe…"

"Amos, deep breaths. Don't panic," Julius tries to calm.

The panic is out of his control now, his throat hurts trying to force himself to gulp in air. Dad is fading out, crying as he's trying to sooth his younger brother.

"Amos Kane!" Desjardin's voice booms, and we are now peering into a scrying bowl, "You have broken the rule again!" Uncle Amos rolls his eyes at that. "And you tricked us, you slimy little snake-"

"I didn't trick you. I went through the portal as asked."

"Lie after lie," Michel shoots down. "You interfered with our procedures to keep the children safe. Now they are fugitives. As for you, you are harboring enemies to the Per Ankh!"

"Why should Carter and Sadie get blamed for what they couldn't control?" Amos snaps. "They don't even know what happened tonight, I already explained this-"

"Julius had made them amulets, Amos." Desjardins tone shifts only a little. "Horus and Isis. I think you can put two and two together."

Oh great, so now I've been dragged into this circus. "It's not their fault-"

"That doesn't matter now, Amos! You know that. They are hosting and must be stopped immediately."

"Horus and Isis are the least of our problems," Amos defends quickly, rather annoyed by Michel's attitude. "We still have yet to find two of the five, and one of them happens to be Set."

"We are arranging a group to take him on. No need to concern yourself, Amos. You need to hand over the children or else face the death sentence awaiting you." Well, the irony in Michel's statement hurts.

"I would be a far worse uncle compared to Set if I did that," Amos sourly states, "Therefore I await your arrival, and I certainly hope you're ready for a fight." He waves his hand over the bowl to dismiss the scrying.

Something smells like its burning, it makes him want to throw up. "Wakey wakey," a voice sounds to our left.

"I did my research on you, Mister Amos Kane," oh great, it's the guy that drugged his wine from before. "Skilled Statuary, one of the first to run with a squadron that deals in rather dangerous situations. With a note of understanding how to control your surroundings with just your tongue. Is that true?"

Amos immediately puzzles out that he means Divine words, in which it's only partially true. "For someone that doesn't want to be involved with the Per Ankh, you sure did dig a lot up."

"It's for business. You are aware that you're not the first statuary the Chief Lector sent here? Same proposal and all? For my safety, I need to be able to know who he is sending my way."

Amos tries to shake some of the haze in his vision with not much success. But puzzles out that there must be a 'mole' of sorts within the Per Ankh feeding the guy information. While it could mean nothing, Amos is hoping they didn't dig anything up on Melissa as well.

"I'm still on the fence on whether I should just kill you or not. However, I do know that you're not leaving this tent with that tongue."

Uncle Amos panics at the implication of that, considering he is still feeling the effects of the drug and appears to be tied up to the chair they sat him on. There's hardly anything he can do to defend himself. A hand tries to open his mouth by force, so he bites down on it. Swiftly responded to with a slam to the back of his head.

He almost blacks out from the impact, but he registers they opened his mouth again, a frim grip on his tongue to stretch it out. Additional pressure to his back forces him to lean forward, chin hitting a flat surface. The burning smell is almost suffocating now.

"Sir, we found their camels," a new voice speaks from beyond the tent.

"I'm busy-"

"We think the girl is nearby."

A frustrated sigh is chased by something hitting water that starts to sizzle. "Kane can wait, we don't know what she is plotting to do next."

Amos' tongue is released, only to be followed with a slam to the back of his head again, forcing his face to hit the table he is against. "Dose him again, I don't want him getting any ideas while we are looking for his partner."

A pinch to his upper right arm lasts for a few seconds before disappearing. He takes a moment before moving to lean against the chair. His vision is even worse than before, red and black swirling nauseatingly. He could throw up from it, or sleep, but quickly dismisses that thought.

Blinking forcefully in an attempt to clear his vision, we're able to see the table finally, a bowl with a leather hilt sticking out of the top. Puzzling out that it was a burning hot knife they intended to use earlier, Uncle Amos takes some more time to try to clear his vision further to not be of much success this time.

He leans against the table again, and uses whatever traction he can get with his face against the bowl to maneuver the knife to get closer. It eventually tips over, and the boiling water spreads across the table, splashing some on his face that he can only dully feel. He notes the knife is now easier to get to this way and hesitates before using his teeth to get a grip on the hot knife.

Jazz fills the area around us. I need a moment to process this is a bar gig I'm witnessing now. For once, something calm and not potentially life-threatening. I take the moment to take in my uncle's joy of just playing.

A loud knock on the door interrupts, and I'm annoyed that the bar has dissolved into a bathroom. Amos is hesitating a moment, hoping the knock was just his imagination at this point. But a louder knock on the door confirms he didn't make it up. He sighs as he drops his razor on the sink edge to answer.

I realize this is his bedroom as he goes to the door. "It's just me, Amos," Desjardins sounds. "I wanted to talk."

Uncle Amos hesitates a moment, considering that Michel knocking on his bedroom door is not normal. He briefly considers the idea of not opening the door to him. Preferring the idea of just being left alone. Was that so much to ask after everything?

"Don't try to pretend you're not behind the door, I checked with Quasi to make certain you are here before I talked with Julius," Michel grumbles.

He immediately curses at the apparently gifted shabti he had given Desjardins, scorning himself to stop doing as much. Curious why Julius is even still around, that he had told his brother to just go back home with Ruby. There was nothing Julius was going to do, the damage was already done and there's no fixing any of it.

Inhaling, he opens the door. The Frenchman is quickly taking him in. "I was about to make a bath," Amos admits, realizing he's not exactly keeping with appearances for the moment.

Michel nods but gestures that he allow him to enter anyway. Amos moves to allow as much, closing the door behind him as the older magician takes in the room. Feeling judgment for not cleaning his room in three days. Michel faces him again, a look of sympathy on his face now.

"Julius is concerned for you."

That earns an immediate eye-roll. "I already told him I'm fine. Why is he even still here? He should be in Los Angeles. He's the one that walked away from the Per Ankh."

"But he didn't walk away from you," Michel quickly points out. "You're still his younger brother, Amos. That part of him isn't going to just disappear just because you tell him it should."

Desjardins steps into the bathroom, appearing as if he is looking for something. "I was thinking of getting you out of the mansion. Fresh air would do you some good."

Immediately, Uncle is struck with the feeling of guilt and grossness. He's realizing he shouldn't have locked himself in his room for days. But doing anything else than lying in bed rotting is too much to deal with. Doing anything at this point feels like I'll screw it all up, so there's no reason for me to do anything.

Michel didn't need Amos to respond, peering back at him from the bathroom. "You look like hell, kid."

"Thanks for that," another eye roll. "As to your offer, I'll pass."

"Right, and do what that will be productive? Studying? Sleeping? Feeling like a miserable mess that isn't worth the oxygen around him?" The Frenchman crosses his arms over his chest.

A snort, "How else should I feel?"

"Everything that happened was beyond your control, Amos. Claiming blame for the misery around you is unfair to yourself and the people that care for you." Michel shifts his weight a bit as he realizes the youngest magician in the room isn't interested in listening to this. "Your mother's passing was happening, and I'm sure she was grateful to have one of her sons around until her time was up."

Amos can't bring himself to look at him now, eyes on the floor as he swallows down the emotions trying to unleash. He recognizes that Michel is telling the hard truth, but it's hard to digest. And now, the hurt just feels bitter to him.

"I'm sorry about Caroline."

Yeah, so am I. Amos is reminded of Iskandar instructing him to not speak of what happened. And now that he thinks of her father, it makes him sick. It's my fault. He's looking for her but she's dead. He should be screaming at me instead.

Michel's hands land on Amos' shoulders to anchor him back into reality. "It wasn't your fault, Amos."

"I should have known," he chokes out, the emotions coming up with his words. "I could have done something-"

Michel stops him by pulling him into a hug. My uncle can now feel how much he is shaking compared to the arms solidly holding him against the older magician. "I know," he tries to comfort.

I feel bad as Amos immediately feels himself undeserving of comfort. But he keeps it to himself rather than vocalize as much, instead allowing himself to calm down.

Michel lets go after what felt like forever to my uncle, taking a step back as he takes him in. He seems upset, and Amos just feels guilty for it. "Enjoy your bath. I'll call to check-in. In the meantime, I'm keeping this." Michel reveals an old razor blade that Amos had just replaced that had been sitting on the sink edge.

Amos seemed surprised, and I realized he was struggling to toss the blade out. My uncle wants to dismiss the thought, but Desjardins' knowing gaze as he slips it into a pocket is enough for him to not make a fool of himself. "Julius plans to leave tomorrow, but I'm sure he would like to have dinner with his brother before he does."

Uncle Amos sighs as he understands this to be an instruction. Don't be so selfish to let him leave his childhood home worried about me. Don't let the misery win and drown me just yet. That Michel plans to call to make sure Amos keeps going. My uncle wants to cry, tell him he's not worth the effort in all of this, but recognizes he would be scowled for it. "Understood."

Sadie? I'm alerted by his voice, sounding worried.

"Uncle Amos?" I sound off.

But instead of any response back, my uncle's bedroom dissolved into the war room. Chief Lector Iskandar seems tired, but he drinks whatever is in his mug to hide it as best as he can. "There are two types of Statuary."

Uncle Amos' eyebrows furrow at that. How are there two types of magic that make shabtis?

"In past times, statuaries were commissioned to make statues acceptable enough for a god to host. One could make the human form, but that was not in the gods' favor. Another would be brought in to craft a suitable head for the statue."

"These days, statuaries skilled in making human-like shabtis are overwhelming. I happen to be of said skill. It's because there is always a higher demand for shabtis of human form."

Amos frowns. Recalling the last few times he's tried to make human-like shabtis and them seeming more ape-like.

"There is nothing wrong with you," Iskandar speaks before Amos can voice as much. "Statuaries capable of perfecting animals are rare these days. This means you'll more than likely approach other statuaries that will not understand you. That's why I have decided you to be better off learning directly from me."

Wait, I freeze on that as Iskandar has moved on to talking about what he has planned to teach my uncle. It starts to dissolve again, and I've never been more annoyed by it.

It's the Red Pyramid. Uncle Amos is frozen just a foot away from the pyramid, so he's had a front-row seat to the progress being made on it.

"So, you like the scene?" Set forms to his right, taking on his fiery form this time. "Just barely hallowed out the mountain to fit it."

Like I give a damn.

Set smirks, "of course you don't. But I like to brag, and you know demons are not worth talking to. Besides, you're far more entertaining than your brother."

Almost on cue, the five demons carrying the sarcophagus dropped it, letting a loud boom shake the mountain. Red dust spreads out into the air. "Though I do prefer talking with him. You're not as pompous, but you certainly are concerned for him no matter your situation."

Amos, not happy with the fact that the god is able to read him as well as he is, is trying to puzzle out if there's a way that he can block him out. They don't teach it because you can't, Set's voice taunts in his skull.

"You shouldn't fear me, Kane." Set starts, now leaning his left arm against Amos' staff. "I'm about to teach you a valuable lesson, one you don't seem to realize you're lacking."

I'm not in the mood to take notes from the likes of you.

Set smirks, shifting his weight off. "Is anyone? But you never know, you might appreciate what I have to share with you."

My poor uncle is now scorning himself for having focused more on my brother and allowing himself to get captured. "Yes, nephews are annoying, aren't they?" Set dusted some red sand off his armor. "Now, we have more pressing matters. This would be concerning our brothers."

We are not the same just because Julius is hosting your brother, Amos snaps.

Set rolls his eyes, "Of course not, this is the matter of how you view your older brother, Amos."

Amos doubts that, but Set gestures his right hand and levitates my imprisoned uncle behind him until they reach the sarcophagus. "Hello again, brother Osiris, Julius," Set started as he allowed my uncle to fall harshly against the foundation. "Julius, I think you would be pleased to hear that your family is coming as an audience to your stupidity."

The sarcophagus responded by violently shaking, a panicked scream barely audible. "Hey now, you may want to tone down your crying," Set's eyes gleam in entertainment. "We have a guest already, and he's not accustomed to you getting emotional around him."

That didn't seem to stop Dad much, in fact, the entire pyramid was starting to shake. Set sighed as he faced his host. "You see Amos, even the most pompous fall to panic. Your dear brother isn't the 'hero' you have been led to believe."

An explosion of red takes over. Once it finally died down, I realized we were no longer at Set's pyramid. Amos struggles to sit up, a headache pounding with large dark spots threatening to take over his vision. Three different groans sound off farther away. Closing his eyes and reopening helped reduce the size of the dark spots substantially.

Dad, Mum, and Desjardins had been slammed into a wall they had been standing ten feet away from before the explosion. Amos had been sent across the room and struck three different tables. In the middle of the room, the tile floor is completely scorched black.

My uncle goes to stand, only processing for a second that he happens to be bleeding from his left hand. Leans on his iron staff as he realizes his right ankle is refusing to cooperate. "Everyone okay?" Dad can barely manage to ask.

"Not sure, more surprised than anything at the moment," Mum admits. "May have done something to my arm."

Uncle Amos is more concerned about not having heard a response from the middle of the room, where the smoke seems to be lingering. He struggles but makes his way into it. "Caroline?"

"A-Amos?" She weakly calls back from a foot ahead of him.

He kneels and takes a moment to take in her condition. She is burned, exhausted, and fragile. "Hey," he tries to be reassuring for her.

"I-I'm sorry…" She struggles to say.

"This wasn't your doing. You'll be on your feet again in no time," He tries to soothe her, lifting her upper body from the burned tile, and cradling her.

Her amber eyes give him a regretful look. "Amos…" She is barely able to move her lips.

"Keep your energy, you need all the strength you have to recover-"

"I love you…" Her lower lip trembled before her eyes distanced.

It took Amos a moment to process that she had just died in his arms. Having to close his eyes to stop staring into hers as disbelief hits first.

You can bring her back, make things right again. Set's voice echoes over the scene, and it sends a chill down my spine. Aid me, together we will fix the world to how it should be. The throne will be yours, and your queen beside you.

You know how to bring back the dead? Amos' voice sounds so defeated.

Oh yes, don't question my ability to find Osiris' secrets. You failed to save her, now is your chance to fix it.

I want to tell him to not listen to this. That Set is just using him for his gain. But I know it means nothing saying as much now.

All I require is power, Amos. We must gather the other three, bring them to the pyramid. Then you can live without regret. I will rid of Horus and Isis hostings. Carter and Sadie can attempt a normal magician life. Everything back to where it belongs.

The silence is deafening. "Chaos is seductive," I recall him saying, getting into reasons why Jacobi and Kwai would willingly listen to Apophis. Mum was right, of course she was. Doesn't lessen the blow though.

Don't question me, you are my favored one. We want the same things. Liar. And yet it was enough to puppet my uncle along. Yield, Amos.

His eyes open. Dad and Mum are there, along with Carter and I in our old home. It takes a moment before I realize it's the birthday cake incident all over again. Mum and Dad had every right to be terrified and separate us after that. Uncle Amos licked some of the cake frosting off of his fingers as he laughed at the ridiculousness of it all before getting up from the table to start cleaning up the mess we had left. "Maybe don't marry another Blood of the Pharaoh's lineage Julius."

I was kicked out of whatever crazy loop of memories was happening. It takes me a moment to realize I'm on my butt on the floor. Uncle Amos is bracing his forehead as if he is dealing with a migraine from hell. But he's peering down at me, and I can tell immediately he's more concerned about me than himself.

"I'm okay," I voice immediately.

"Good, the two of you were starting to worry me," right, I forgot a Roman Goddess is taking in the situation.

"The pair of you were stuck in a reel of Amos' memories," Caroline explains. "Glad you were able to shove her out," I notice she directed this at Amos. "Welcome back," she then leaves the cabin before my uncle can piece together words.

Thankfully, Trivia seemed to have noticed that we still needed some time to register what just happened. She kept to the book that Amos had apparently been reading before we interrupted.

Amos' eyes land on me again. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm better now that you know who you are again," I answer honestly, deciding to get up now, dusting my pants off.

That does nothing to ease him. I take a moment and realize we now have the difficult situation of me probably knowing too much. However, that can wait.

"Thank you for taking care of Uncle Amos," I direct towards the Roman deity.

"Like I said, an Egyptian magician has no place here," she pauses a moment, taking Amos in. "You being a host of Set makes more sense as to your situation. Set is split here; he is both Mars and yet Typhon."

"What?" I ask, very confused about what she is trying to say.

"Typhon is a father of monsters. There's a reason I found you befriending an army of Chimeras, they recognized you as one of them. And you being in the middle of Tartarus…"

Amos takes a moment to process what the goddess is implying. "The Imperial Gold?"

She nods, seeming to approve of him puzzling it out on his own. "Safe travels, I don't wish to see either of you again if it can be helped."

Kind of rude, but I hold the door open for my uncle to leave the goddess' cabin.