"My Lord,
Our expedition to Kemet has already proven a considerable success. We have found the location you detected, and it is everything we hoped for and more. Located within the Bardad Desert, several days' travel to the west of Kheriaha, it consists of a score of buildings in the style of Ancient Kemet, perfectly safeguarded from the elements by a spell of preservation (although sand has begun to pile in now that the spell has been broken).
Most buildings appear to have served as barracks and warehouses, while the pillars surrounding it are covered in ancient script. Professor Carnahan has attempted a rough translation of the hieroglyphs using the sources available to us. According to him, they recount a great battle waged by the ancient priests of Kemet against a terrible foe served by legions of unnatural creatures, fought in a place only referred to as the 'Nameless City', or 'City of the Nameless One' (Professor Carnahan isn't certain, as several of the hieroglyphs involved are unlike any he's ever encountered before). While the text makes it clear the Pharaoh of the time was involved in the war, his (or her) name isn't mentioned, making precise dating all but impossible.
It is the building at the center of the complex, however, which most drew our interest. As the largest of the structures, it has been identified as a cross between a temple and a stronghold, although one Professor Carnahan assures me seems to have been built not to keep intruders out but to guard against something inside, judging by the defensive positions and arrow-slits located within its walls. Statues and images of the old Kemetian gods are also present, with the sun-god who also served as head of the pantheon being the most prominent.
Two objects of particular import were found inside. The first, which I have sent you along with this letter, is a set of Kemetian regalia imbued with tremendous magical power. Taking the form of a heka and nekhakha (as Professor Carnahan tells me they are called), they were placed atop a central pillar surrounded by a many-layered circle, which I believe served as the cornerstone of the wards protecting this place.
At first, I thought those wards merely weakened, but they have in fact completely collapsed, even though the regalia's power seems undiminished. It is my belief that the great working you performed over Londinium overwrote another one, inscribed upon these artefacts thousands of years ago.
Given the presence of an Imperial force in Kemet, which we learned of only thanks to the radio we brought with us, I thought it prudent to send the regalia ahead immediately, along with the rubbings and recordings we've already made. Perhaps using the regalia directly in the warding ritual instead of reaching across the sea, we will be able to protect our homeland more effectively.
The second object of interest, however, couldn't be moved easily, if at all. It is obvious at first glance that object wasn't constructed by the same hands that wrought the structure around it. Visually, it looks like a circle of black stone five meters in diameter and half a meter thick, embedded into the ground at the center of the building's various lines of fire and defensive positions, directly in front of the regalia's pillar. Looking through it, one sees not the other side of the room, however, but a swirling nexus of energies.
After inspecting the hieroglyphs carved on the walls of the room, we have come to the conclusion that this archway is of similar nature to the Wunderwaffe whose attack on Londinium you fought off : a portal leading to this Nameless City of Carnahan's translation, where the Ancient Kemetians fought against their mysterious enemy. The building around it must have been built while they were preparing to launch their assault through the gate after defeating the enemy forces within the rest of Kemet itself (though the story of the pillars lack in details, the victory of the priests is obvious).
As I write these words, we are planning to cross the gateway. A few sand lizards and desert foxes have been captured by our assistants and, after a quick spell on my part, sent through the archway, returning a few moments later none the worse for wear.
Within that Nameless City, I hope that we will find more clues as to how the victory of the priests was achieved, which will be of use in our present struggle against Division Y.
I remain, as ever, your faithful servant,
Niniane."
Letter from Niniane to the Royal Wizard of the Allied Kingdom, written on October 5th, 1925.
October 6th, 1925 – ?
For a moment after he crossed the archway and beheld his surroundings, Carnahan thought he had died and gone to Hell. He wasn't certain what exactly he had done to warrant damnation, but that was the only explanation his stunned mind could come up with to explain what his eyes seeing.
The ground at his feet was littered with bones, many of them he recognized as human. All of them had been gnawed on and cracked apart, which his mind helpfully told him had probably been done to suck off the marrow within. Broken pieces of antique armor and weaponry was also scattered amidst the bones, testament to the violence of the conflict that had taken place here in ages past. That was already grim enough, but the horror beneath was nothing compared to the one above.
The skies were of a uniform pale color that reminded Carnahan of nothing more than a corpse's pallor, and a black sun shone with a cold and colorless light that, Carnahan noticed with horror, cast no shadow whatsoever.
Understandably, the sight proved quite a shock for the half-dozen guards who had accompanied Niniane and him across. They cried out and started praying and babbling, with several starting to move back toward the archway, desperate to get back to the desert and out of here.
"Enough !" said Niniane, freezing the would-be deserters in their tracks. "This is only an illusion. An impressive one, yes, but it isn't real. We must be in some sort of underground cavern, dug by magic in ancient times. We already know that spell formulas that can withstand the passage of millennia and keep working exist : this is just another example."
The young lady's explanation worked in calming down their escorts, but Carnahan was more familiar with her, and he could see she only half-believed it herself. He didn't point it out, not wanting the break their fragile morale, but it was still something to keep in mind. Wherever they were, he doubted it was as simple as a cavern that had stayed hidden all that time.
That impression was only confirmed when he heard a whirring noise coming out of his own pocket. Checking it, he found that his watch was going crazy, its hands moving in random directions far quicker than the machinery was designed for, to the point that within moments the entire thing broke down and stopped. The same, it turned out, had happened to every timepiece the group had brought along with them.
Again, Niniane was quick to reassure them that this was due to some kind of magical field in effect around the area that interfered with the delicate mechanisms of modern watches – an unintended side-effect, to be sure, since such devices hadn't existed at the time of the ruined city's construction. And yet Carnahan couldn't shake the feeling that, if they'd brought a simple sandglass with them, its contents would also be moving up and down without rhyme and reason. There was something wrong with the Nameless City, in a way that he couldn't describe but felt deep in his bones.
They had arrived at the center of a circular plaza over two hundred meters across, emerging from an archway identical to the one they had gone through – or perhaps it was the same, somehow existing in two places at once. Carnahan was no military man, but he could imagine that attacking through the small portal would have been a tactical nightmare. Even with the advantage of surprise, the first men sent through would've been completely alone and unsupported.
Buildings of black and grey stone surrounded the plaza, but what drew the eye the most – once you could tear your gaze from the eldritch sky – was the pyramid directly ahead of the gateway, at the end of a long, straight road that cut through the city. It was built of black stone, with a grey stairway leading up to what a quick look through his binoculars told him was an entrance inside, although the weird illumination of this place kept him from seeing too far inside.
"We are going to check out the pyramid first," said Niniane decisively. "It will provide us a good vantage point over the area, and it looks like the most obvious place to find something of interest."
They advanced in a tight group, the guards keeping their weapons at the ready, although they didn't encounter any threat. The closer they got to the pyramid, the more signs of battle they saw. It was clear that whatever battle had been fought here in ancient times, it had become more and more intense as the attackers approached the towering structure : the street beneath their feet was cratered with what Niniane told them must've been battle magic (grenades not being exactly common in Ancient Kemet).
Even so, enough remained of the buildings around them for Carnahan to realize none of them had been built for human-sized inhabitants : they were simply too big. Since they knew that the people of Ancient Kemet hadn't been giants from having studied a lot of their bones, and given what Niniane had shared with him about the reason for their presence here, he'd the feeling this entire Nameless City had been built for and by monsters – a feeling only reinforced when he saw the first statue.
Past the courtyard where they had arrived, there were statues of grey stone everywhere, each of them depicting a monster in repose. For all the horror of what they represented, the artistry that had gone into the sculpting was masterful : it truly seemed as if the stone figures might come alive at any moment. Carnahan avoided looking at them too much, but he still noticed that there were only a few variations. Monstrous hybrids of serpent and man, like reptilian centaurs. Six-eyed horrors with far too large mouths and long, muscular tails. Skinny, spiked and scaled wolf-like beasts that seemed designed for cruelty. Three meters-tall walking abattoirs, all muscle and claws, with a single enormous eye.
… In fact, come to think of it, these monstrosities looked to be about the height he'd have expected the inhabitants of the buildings to be.
As they climbed up the steps of the pyramid, struggling to deal with steps twice higher than they ought to be, they got a better look at the ruined city. It was vast, and though judging the distance was made harder by the strange scale of the buildings, Carnahan judged it to stretch over several kilometers. Beyond it laid nothing but seemingly endless black sands, stretching all the way to the horizon : there were no mountains, no rivers, nothing. They hadn't seen a single sign of life since they'd arrived, not even insects.
"Have you noticed ?" Niniane asked quietly as they climbed. "There should be debris on this stairway, but it has been swept away."
"And some of the statues we passed were clearly put in place after the battle ended," added Carnahan with a nod, also keeping his voice low. "Survivors of the battle trying to clean up, do you think ?"
"It makes the most sense. Of course, they will be long dead by now."
"Of course," Carnahan agreed. Still, he couldn't stop himself from reaching for the pistol at his hip to check it was still there.
"The statues, at least, might be due to the attackers using their magic to petrify their enemy," Niniane continued thoughtfully. "The Empire used monsters on the Rhine Front : if their 'Devils' are related to what lurked here, I don't think the Ancient Kemetians would've had much of a chance against them without some kind of arcane counter."
"You, huh … you don't think the petrification spell could be broken, do you ?" asked Carnahan.
"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped at him. "Transforming flesh to stone is already an incredibly complex process. Reverting it would fly in the face of everything we know about the laws of magic and thermodynamics."
There wasn't much the Professor could say in answer to that, so they continued their climb. Eventually, they reached the entrance he'd spied through his binoculars. The black sun's shadowless light didn't penetrate inside the pyramid, and the flash lights they'd brought with them didn't work any better than his watch, but fortunately they'd also brought more basic torches along with them at Carnahan's recommendation – electric lights, while more powerful, were also less reliable in a sandy environment, so better to have a backup light source at hand.
They walked through a long corridor, before emerging into a large throneroom with an open roof that let the black sun's strange light through. It was clear that the battle had been at its most violent here. There were holes in the walls, floor and ceiling, and not one of the great statues that had lined the walls remained intact, most of them reduced to a pair of feet resting atop a pedestal.
An immense throne of obsidian sat at the end of the room, as damaged as everything else. Despite its state, it still radiated menace, as though only the most evil of tyrants could ever sit upon it. To the right of that monstrosity was a lesser, human-sized throne, and this one was occupied by a corpse, its skin blackened by time and dry decomposition into a vision of nightmare. It was clad in what appeared to be the garb of an Ancient Kemetian priest, but even from that distance Carnahan could tell there was something wrong about the iconography engraved upon it. A serpent-headed golden staff rested against the lesser throne, gleaming rubies encrusted in its eyes.
The group advanced cautiously, moving around the damaged sections of the floor and trying to pretend they didn't feel the temperature dropping as they drew closer to the two thrones. There were hieroglyphs carved at the base of the black throne, and Carnahan approached to see if he could translate them, when he was interrupted by a sudden scream.
The corpse on the lesser throne had moved, seizing the wrist of the closest guard with its withered right hand. Sparks of black lightning coursed down the animated cadaver's arm and plunged into the man's flesh. At once, the guard's body began to decay rapidly, yet he was horrifically still alive. His scream was the most hideous sound Carnahan had ever heard, but the silence that followed its ending was even worse. A plume of translucent smoke emerged from his ravaged throat and then was sucked into the undead thing's maw, blackened teeth closing behind it with terrible finality.
It stood up, moving slowly at first, then more and more assuredly, as if merely waking from a nap and shaking off the cobwebs of sleep. It seized the serpent-headed staff in its right hand, and turned its eyeless skull to look around, stopping while looking straight at Niniane and Carnahan. Its jaw opened again, revealing a dried tongue, and spoke in recognizable if heavily distorted Albish, although whether the distortion was an accent or the result of his decayed vocal chords Carnahan had no idea.
"I am the Heresiarch. First of the Black Pharaoh's servants. And you … you are a witch and a scholar," it – he – said. "Are you here on behalf of my master, to bring me back to his side ?"
For a single, crazed moment, Carnahan considered lying and saying yes. Then one of the remaining guards screamed and opened fire with his rifle, and the other four followed suit at once. Despite their panic, most of their shots hit their mark, and the Heresiarch growled as pieces of old bone flew at the impacts.
He shrieked, and gestured with his staff. A halo of black fire erupted around him, burning the following shots to ash. Then he pointed a finger at the closest guard, and he simply came apart, torn to pieces by invisible blades.
"Enough !" shouted Niniane, drawing her computation orb. Carnahan felt the pressure of gathering magical energy, saw the orb begin to gleam … then it sparked and whined, a pitiful sound that soon died down.
Of course, thought Carnahan with a clarity brought by despair. A computation orb was a delicate thing, far more elaborate than a watch. If the latter didn't work in this God-forsaken place, why would the former ?
"Was that supposed to do something ?" asked the Heresiarch, cocking his head to the side with a sickening crack of his ancient vertebrae. "Or is this what passes for magic in this age ?"
Niniane flushed, anger, it seemed, overcoming fear for a moment. She pulled a silver cross encrusted with diamonds out of her pocket and held it aloft. For a second Carnahan thought she was praying, but then the diamonds blazed with magic, and a dome of white light expanded from Niniane. The Heresiarch recoiled, his empty eye sockets suddenly flaring with black fire.
"This power," the creature snarled. "It is that of the Adversary !"
"RUN !" shouted Niniane, her face already running with sweat at the effort of doing whatever it was she was doing.
They ran, followed by the surviving guards. As they reached the outside, Niniane grabbed Carnahan's arm and flew into the air, plunging down the stairs and leaving the rest of their party behind.
"Wait ! We have to go back for them -"
"I can only carry you and fly at the same time, Professor," she cut him off in a tense voice. "And even that is straining the capabilities of this relic."
Carnahan was about to protest, but the words died in his throat as he heard more screams coming from the guards they'd abandoned.
"What the hell was that ?" he whispered to himself, but Niniane heard him and answered :
"This cross is a sacred relic that was lent to me by my master before I left. Modern computation orbs are only our attempts at emulating what those are capable of, and it seems there are features we didn't even realize were in the originals."
"That's interesting, but not what I was talking about," replied Carnahan with what he felt was remarkable calm given the circumstances. "I meant, what the hell was that monster ?!"
"That … I have no idea," Niniane admitted. "Wait. Look. Is that … ?"
Before their horrified eyes, the grotesque statues were starting to move, stone transmuting into monstrous flesh, the answer to the mystery of their presence, intact when so much of the city around them was damaged, now made terribly clear. The creatures were even more horrifying in motion than they had been while petrified.
'The laws of thermodynamics', Niniane had said. Could it be ? Was the Nameless City really … No, it didn't matter right now. 'How' and 'why' were irrelevant questions. What mattered was that, on the way to the pyramid, they had seen scores of the statues. How many more were there across the Nameless City, now awakening from their age-long slumber at the call of their master – or, as the Heresiarch had implied, their true master's servant ?
For thousands of years, the Heresiarch and the petrified monsters had been sealed away in the Nameless City, trapped by the ward powered by the regalia – which was probably half-way to Kheriaha, there to be shipped off to Londinium with the most express haste. The ward had already been broken when they'd arrived, disturbed by the Royal Wizard's efforts to protect the Kingdom's capital, but it was only because they had gone through the gateway that the Heresiarch had noticed the way was open for him and his host of horrors.
"God," Carnahan rasped out. "What have we done ?"
"Colonel, something's wrong."
"Elaborate, Captain."
"Ever since my transformation, my senses have been sharper even when I'm not transformed. I'm not sure what, but I can sense … something, to the south. It's making the new part of me distinctly uncomfortable, and … angry, I think."
"… Scheiße. Take Captain Weiss with you as backup and in case you need a quicker escape, and go take a look. I will warn General Romel to put everyone on high alert, just in case. Be careful !"
"Yes sir !"
Radio exchange within the Imperial Southern Expedition, October 6th, 1925.
October 6th, 1925 – Bardad Desert
The camels were running without needing to be told : they could smell what was behind them, and clearly found it just as disturbing as their riders did. Carnahan had spent years riding the beasts, and he never knew they could even move that fast, but he knew it wouldn't be fast enough. The camels were built for endurance, not sprint, and the monsters hunting them seemed tireless.
"You should fly ahead, Miss !" he shouted to Niniane. "Leave me behind and save yourself !"
Carnahan didn't think of himself as a brave man – in fact, he fully intended to turn his pistol on himself before letting the beasts get to him. But if Niniane could escape and find the regalia then maybe, just maybe, she would figure out a way to stop what they had unleashed.
"I've already exhausted my reserves," she replied with a grim smile. "We'll survive this together, or die together, Professor."
As touching as the words were, they did nothing to help their situation. A few moments later, the camels finally collapsed, unable to run any further, their hearts bursting in their chest. Carnahan stumbled to his feet and moved to help Niniane to hers, but before they could start running (not that it would have helped much), their pursuers reached them.
There were three of them, each a different type of the Nameless City's no-longer-petrified horrors : a serpent hybrid, a spindly wolf-beast, and one of the tailed monstrosities with six eyes and a far too large mouth. Returned to flesh, they were far more abhorrent, with the wolf-like beast in particular emanating a repugnant miasma that made Carnahan feel sick just to be near it.
Seeing the predicament of their prey, they advanced slowly, like cats playing with a mouse before delivering the killing blow. Carnahan aimed his pistol at them hesitantly, unsure if he shouldn't rather shoot Niniane and then himself.
Then a beam of concentrated light slammed through the skull of the snake, and its headless corpse fell to the ground, twitching.
The remaining two monsters stopped in their tracks, eyes turning upward. A man in an Imperial Army uniform descended from the sky, stopping right above the sand with a suddenness that made Carnahan's spine ache in sympathy, and rammed a mage blade into the skull of the wolf-thing, too fast for it to react. By that point, the last monster had overcome its shock, and lurched at the mage, its impossibly wide maw open, revealing row after row of hungry teeth.
Instead of dodging, the Imperial mage moved inside the monster's guard and slammed his entire right arm into its mouth. There was a gagging sound as the punch connected, but the monster didn't let that stop it, and closed its jaw upon his arm. Carnahan grimaced, expecting to hear the sound of flesh being bitten off (which, due to an encounter with a crocodile in his youth, wouldn't be the first time). Instead, there was a muffled detonation, and the entire upper half of the last monster exploded outward, splattering the soldier's magic shield.
As the Imperial mage withdrew his arm from the gory mess he had created, the limb was revealed to be made not of flesh, but of a white material that reminded Carnahan of porcelain, but had to be incomparably tougher to have withstood the monster's bite undamaged.
The man inspected his arm for signs of damage, muttering something about 'owing old Gehrman a drink', then turned to look at them.
"Hello there," he said in heavily accented Albish (although the Imperial accent was, to be honest, a wondrous relief after hearing the Heresiarch's own hateful voice). "I am Captain Weiss of the Imperial Army, Division Y." He smiled thinly as the two of them flinched at the name of the Empire's mysterious makers of superweapons. "I see you have heard of us. Good, that will save us some time. You can either surrender yourselves peacefully into the custody of the Imperial Army, or you can refuse, in which case you will still be taken captives, just with some added steps. And I really don't think any of us can afford to waste time right now."
As if to make his point, four-winged horror with blazing, many-faceted eyes descended from the heavens with a buzzing noise, and Carnahan screamed in warning, but the Imperial mage didn't react. He merely glanced at the professor with a questioning look, before appearing to realize something :
"Oh, right. Don't worry. This one's safe."
"Safe ?!" Carnahan shrieked. He was being hysterical, he knew it, but he couldn't stop himself.
"Well, maybe not for you, if you keep screaming, so shut up for a moment." He switched to Imperial when he addressed the creature : "Uger, what did you see ?"
The monster stared at him, then cocked its head at the two citizens of the Allied Kingdom. It was clearly trying to imply something, but Carnahan had no idea what.
"Ah, right," said Weiss with an embarrassed chuckle. "Can't show state secrets to outsiders, I forgot. I must've spent too much time at the headquarters and not enough in the field. Don't tell the boss, please ? She would have my hide for a slip-up like that. For now, let's get back to base. Hold on tight, we'll be going fast." He switched back to Albish : "As for the two of you, don't struggle or you will fall."
"What do you -"
Before Niniane could finish, he had seized them by the arm and they were flying, a lot faster than what Niniane had managed with her relic, fast enough that Carnahan had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded by the sand in the wind. The two Albish explorers clung to the aerial mage as best they could, trying to ignore the monster doing the same with two of its four arms.
"Now, my new friends from the Allied Kingdom," he heard the Imperial mage say. "I have questions. And if you know what's good for you, you will answer them honestly. Let's start with : what the hell were you doing in the middle of the desert ?"
October 6th, 1925 – Bardad Desert – Imperial Camp
Colonel Lergen listened with growing alarm as Captains Uger and Weiss finished their report. The two Albish agents were in custody elsewhere in the camp, having been searched and stripped of all their equipment. Much as he wanted to question them further (and shake them and scream at them and ask them what the hell they thought they had been doing), they were clearly in a state of shock, and pushing them for answers wouldn't get them anywhere quickly enough to matter. Captain Weiss had already gotten the gist of what had happened from them on the flight back to base, shock and terror making them both more loose-lipped than they'd probably have been under less dire circumstances.
And the circumstances were dire, no mistake about that. Division Y had been sent to the Southern Continent to investigate and stop the Allied Kingdom's efforts to make use of Ancient Kemetian magic, but the notes Degurechaff had sent him also contained a full dissertation on the potential of the Albish waking up something they couldn't control or deal with.
The Colonel very carefully didn't think about how strangely prescient that paper had been and very deliberately chose to ascribe it to the Major's over-cautious approach to all things related to Elder Magic. Although given the situation, it might be that she wasn't over-cautious at all after all. This whole mess fell squarely into such a case, and her notes were clear on what to do.
"We must deal with this," he declared without preamble once the two officers were done with their tale.
"Must we ?" asked one of General Romel's aides.
It was a reasonable question, Lergen told himself to avoid snapping at the man. This wasn't their country, and the problem had been caused by Albish stupidity. However, it also missed a very important point, that should be obvious to anyone thinking about it for more than a second.
"Yes," replied Lergen without hesitation. "Who do you think will be blamed if a horde of monsters starts slaughtering civilians right after we arrived in the country ?"
That brought a swift end to any argument. It might be Albish meddling that had caused this catastrophe, but good luck trying to tell the rest of the world that.
"For now, they aren't moving," said Uger with a frown, intently listening to something only he could hear. "But there are more and more of them coming through. And they are predators : eventually they'll get hungry … and I think there is only one type of prey that will satisfy their hunger."
Merciful God, thought Lergen, swallowing to wet his dry throat. "The Nile hasn't moved in thousands of years. If they are looking for people, they will know where to go to find them."
The look on Captain Uger's face told Lergen that he didn't care about the political implications. Sometimes Lergen wondered how the man had become a soldier : he was far too good-hearted to work in the Imperial Army. Oh, he was willing to fight and kill the enemy well enough (although how much of that was due to his transformation into a Werwolf, Lergen would never know, not having met the man prior to his transformation).
"The closest city to their position is Kheriaha," said another aide, pointing at the map on the table around which they all stood. "There are, what, about a million people there ? Surely even a few hundred monsters cannot kill them all."
"That doesn't matter," cut in General Romel. "Our stated mission is to put pressure on the Allied Kingdom to get them to the negotiation table. If they think we unleashed monsters on a civilian population, or even just if they can spin the story to make other countries believe we did, then nobody will negotiate with us, ever. We will be marked as monsters ourselves, and our only choices will be destruction or world domination. Which," the General added after Lergen sent him a stern look, "is not the will of High Command."
Damn right it isn't, thought Lergen. If the Empire fully committed to its Wunderwaffen program and gave Division Y unlimited access to the country's resources, it might – might – actually be able to conquer the world. But the human cost of such an endeavour was inconceivable.
"So come on, my fine fellows." General Romel was smiling, looking like a wild animal who has caught sight of prey. "Put some smiles on those grim faces ! Fighting against an ancient evil in the middle of the desert to protect the innocent, not knowing the strength of the foe ? This sounds like quite the saga ! Now, ladies and gentlemen. Let us carve our names into legend together !"
Somehow, Lergen wasn't surprised by Romel's reaction to it all. He still wasn't sure whether the General's boisterous behavior was genuine or an act meant to inspire confidence in his troops, but at least the man was competent and willing to listen to advice.
He also really wanted a drink. Unfortunately, word of his doctor's advice had spread among the elements of Division Y he was theoretically leading, and apparently General Romel had been informed at some point. As a result, 'out of respect for him and his determination to follow medical instructions', there wasn't a bottle of alcohol in sight within the command center. Not that the Imperial Army was normally led by drunkards, but there was always something, to celebrate victory or toast departing units (and, in a pinch, double as disinfectant).
He would have to soldier on, then. On the plus side, if his inability to get a stiff drink was the worst thing that happened to him today, he would be perfectly happy to remain sober for the rest of the war.
October 6th, 1925 – Bardad Desert – Ancient Kemetian Settlement
The Heresiarch couldn't breathe, and his skin had long since decayed past all sense of touch. Yet as he gazed upon the blue sky, he still felt something akin to joy within his withered soul.
At long, long last, he had returned to his homeland. For all its glory and majesty, there were still aspects of his master's wondrous city that were lacking compared to this place. Not nearly enough sacrifices, for one.
Behind him, more and more of his master's creations were pouring out of the gateway. They were the blessed ones, granted rebirth and freedom from their weak mortal forms as their flesh was reshaped into an aspect more suitable to serve the Black Pharaoh by the Rite of Transfiguration. Many had perished during the battle that had seen their master fall, but there had been plenty left, trapped within the Nameless City by the ward cast by their victorious foe.
To keep them from devouring each other and eventually starving to death, the Heresiarch had used a spell first gifted to him by the Black Pharaoh for use on captured enemies. It could only be cast within the Black Pharaoh's kingdom, where the will of his master prevailed over what fools called natural laws, but it had preserved the last remnant of his lord's army throughout the ages … until now.
He did not know how much time had passed, but he knew his master was walking the earth once more. Nothing else could have led these foolish mortals to break the seal that had kept him and the other survivors trapped within their master's city.
He couldn't feel the hunters who'd gone after the intruders carrying the tool of the Adversary anymore, meaning they'd been more dangerous than he thought. But he knew in which direction they had been running, and their plan was obvious. If they weren't merely running for their miserable lives, they would be looking for the hateful relic which had powered the seal that had kept the Heresiarch trapped.
Except, the intruders had been northerners. And clearly the priest caste that the Heresiarch had once belonged to before having his eyes opened to the truth no longer existed, or the seal would never have been broken in the first place. Even if they recovered the regalia, they didn't have the knowledge to use it effectively.
The dessicated skin of his face cracked into a vile parody of a smile. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.
The Heresiarch raised his staff, and spoke words that were to Kemetian what a scream of agony is to a lullaby. Harsh winds began to stir in answer, and soon a sandstorm covered the constructions of his old foes, violent enough to start eroding the markings they had carved to celebrate their victory.
"Let us go to glorious war, then," he said. "We shall make Kemet bleed, until it remembers its one true king."
Behind and around him, the horde of the Black Pharaoh's servants howled in response.
AN : Oh, Lergen. Why do I torture you so ? I hadn't even planned that last bit. Someone suggested something like it on SB and the Muse ran with it.
You probably saw Things Going Wrong for the Albish explorers coming. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed the scene of them exploring the Nameless City (which is not Irem, the City of Pillars, as according to Achtung Cthulhu ! Guide to North Africa the entrance to that one is located on the Arabian peninsula, much to the east of where this takes place). Turns out Projekt S wasn't the first gateway to another world to exist. What does this all mean ? Once again, I'm not going to tell you yet. Feel free to speculate.
Also, it turns out that Tagers can't talk while transformed. They can use telepathy to communicate with others of their kind within a certain radius, but everything I've found indicates that ability only works with other Tagers, not ordinary people. Hence Uger looking at Weiss silently asking if he really thinks he's going to transform in front of civilians. I had completely forgotten about that until I wrote the scene and realized "hey, what does Uger sound like while transformed ? No, wait a minute, how the hell is Uger talking here since Whispers don't have mouths ?".
I could probably have gotten away with him using telepathy anyway, but then I wouldn't have had the chance to make Weiss embarrass himself and show that he's still as scared of Tanya in this universe as in canon. And that would be unacceptable.
Yes, the monsters are Dhohanoids from CthulhuTech. I could have gone with standard Egyptian undead, but come on. That would have been predictable and boring.
Also, if you are wondering how Weiss was able to kill three of them so easily : YS aerial mages are freaking terrifying when they know what they are doing, and Weiss definitely does. There is a reason Tanya only sends the Werwölfe out with the support of the Untoten : the Werwölfe can potentially kill a mage if they get close enough (for instance, as seen in their first deployment on the Rhine front, a Phantom's beam attack can go right through a mage's shields due to the spell formula not being designed for that kind of eldritch energy), but the range of an aerial mage's attack spells is vastly superior to the ranged abilities of the Werwölfe. Although, to be clear, Werwölfe/Tagers are superior to Dhohanoids in every way : in the original lore, one Tager is considered the equal of five Dhohanoids when it comes to battle.
Well, the Dhohanoids have two advantages : the first is that they can use partial transformations (like turning one limb instead of their whole body). The second is that Dhohanoids can breed true, unlike Tagers (and Werwölfe, although the situation hasn't come up so far, much to Tanya's relief).
As for who the Black Pharaoh is, I look forward to your theories. I know the truth, of course (because, as I have said before and will say again, this is fanfiction, not Game of Thrones : we have storytelling standards here), but it will be a long time before it is revealed to you.
The Muse is currently punishing me for finishing Prince of the Eye instead of focusing on this story, but I managed to complete this chapter regardless of Her displeasure. Please submit theories, suggestions, and additions to the TV Tropes page in order to appease Her.
This chapter and the next one were originally going to be a single chapter, but I decided to split them because their themes are quite different. This chapter was a mix of horror and Indiana Jones-style exploration, while the next one will be a detailled depiction of the battle between the Imperial Southern Expedition and the Horde of the Nameless City.
If anyone can recommend me some good sources on desert warfare in WW1/WW2 era I could use as reference/inspiration, that would be appreciated.
Alright, that's all for now. Stay safe !
Zahariel out.