Huang Wen leaned against a dusty brick wall, watching the sunset cast long, amber shadows across the Cairo skyline. "You know, Belle, for all the talk about this place being stuck in the past, it's actually moving faster than you'd think. It's almost frantic."
Belle was busy dusting off her skirt, her eyes wandering over the mix of ancient stone and modern electrical wires strung like spiderwebs between buildings. "It feels like a city trying to be two things at once," she remarked.
Huang Wen nodded absently. He wasn't just here for the scenery. His mind was racing through the archives of his memory—specifically, the history of this world's "First Mutant." If his timeline calculations were correct, Apocalypse—En Sabah Nur—was currently buried deep beneath these sands, waiting for a trigger.
In the movies, Apocalypse was a bit of a mixed bag. He was the ultimate 'Tony Teacher,' a cosmic stylist who spent more time giving mutants edgy makeovers and cool horsemen titles than actually conquering. But that was only because he'd run headfirst into the Phoenix Force. Without a cosmic fire-bird to stop him, Apocalypse was a terrifying prospect. He was a living library of powers, a god who could rewrite DNA on a whim.
If I can find him first, Huang Wen thought, I don't just find a boss. I find a shortcut. Apocalypse could evolve mutant abilities. He could refine them. He could take a 'weak' power and turn it into a world-ending force. Of course, the guy was a megalomaniac, but Huang Wen wasn't planning on being his disciple. He was planning on being his landlord.
"Is he a good man?" Belle asked, sensing Huang Wen's deep thought. "This person you're looking for?"
Huang Wen gave a wry laugh. "A good man? Far from it. He's the kind of man who thinks he's the only one fit to hold the steering wheel of the world. He played a winning hand so badly that his own people buried him alive. I'm just curious to see where exactly he's sleeping."
"Well, searching for a ghost won't fill our stomachs," Belle said, her eyes lighting up as the scent of sizzling meat drifted from a nearby stall. "Look, those skewers... and the fried fish. They smell incredible."
"Treat yourself," Huang Wen smiled, handing over some local currency.
While Belle happily negotiated with the vendor for a handful of kofta skewers, Huang Wen struck up a conversation with the cook. "We're looking for the older sites. Not the tourist ones. The ones that haven't made it onto the maps yet. Any leads?"
The vendor, a man whose face was as wrinkled as a sun-dried date, shook his head while flipping a fish. "The desert is vast, stranger. And it likes to keep its teeth hidden. If you want to go looking for trouble, try the alley three blocks down. There's a 'consultation' office there. They deal in things the government doesn't like to talk about."
A few minutes later, Huang Wen and a contentedly snacking Belle turned into a narrow, dim alleyway. It was a den of competition. As soon as they entered, a dozen men in weathered jackets swarmed them, shouting in a mix of Arabic and broken English.
Before they could get within arm's reach, an invisible wall pushed them back. Huang Wen didn't move a muscle, but his telekinesis formed a subtle, firm barrier that kept the crowd at a respectful three-foot distance. The guides stumbled, looking confused as if they'd walked into a pane of glass.
Huang Wen pointed to a man leaning against a doorway who looked slightly more composed than the rest. "You. Come here."
The others, sensing the invisible 'weight' in the air, backed off with a collective murmur. There was an unspoken rule among these scavengers: don't mess with the ones who don't look afraid.
"I'm looking for a pyramid," Huang Wen said, getting straight to the point. "But not the ones on the postcards. I want the ruins that the sands only show once every fifty years. The ones that aren't 'discovered' yet."
The guide's eyes darted between Huang Wen and Belle. He licked his lips greedily. "I know of a few spots. Deep in the dunes. Places where the wind whispers in old tongues. But a trip like that? It is very, very expensive."
"Gold isn't the issue," Huang Wen said, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a hint of a threat. "But honesty is. I'm a professional, friend. I have ways of knowing if there's stone beneath the sand. If you take me to a sandbox and tell me it's a palace, you won't like the refund policy."
The guide grinned, revealing a gold tooth. "Oh, there will be ruins, I promise you that. We have a truck ready. We can leave now."
"Huang Wen," Belle whispered, pulling him aside as the guide went to signal his friends. "We should go get supplies. Water, bread... we don't know how long we'll be out there."
"Don't worry, pretty lady!" the guide interrupted, his smile widening. "The truck is fully loaded. We are professionals. We have everything you need for a long... long stay in the desert."
Huang Wen squeezed Belle's hand. "It's fine, Belle. Let's see what they've got."
They were led to an old, battered pickup truck. The guide hopped into the passenger seat, while three other men, all looking like they had spent their lives avoiding the law, climbed into the cab and the edges of the flatbed.
"I'm sorry we have to sit in the back," the guide said with a mock-bow. "But of course, if the lady wants to sit in the front with us, we can make room..."
"She's fine where she is," Huang Wen said coldly, helping Belle onto the back.
"It's actually quite nice," Belle said, waving a hand over the dusty floorboards. Unseen by the men in the cab, the dust swirled and settled into a perfectly smooth, soft cushion under her command. She sat down and leaned her head on Huang Wen's shoulder as the truck began to rattle out of the city and into the endless orange expanse of the Sahara.
"They aren't taking us to a pyramid, are they?" Belle's voice was a tiny vibration against his chest, her spiritual communication becoming more refined every day.
"Probably not," Huang Wen replied in her mind. "They're taking us to a place where nobody can hear a scream. It's a common tactic for these 'guides.' They think we're just rich tourists."
"So, what's the plan? Do we turn back?"
"No," Huang Wen's eyes flickered with a predatory light. "The guide was too confident. He knows something. If he won't give me the location for gold, he'll give it to me to keep his teeth. Besides, it's about time we cleaned up the neighborhood."
Belle sighed, though she didn't look particularly upset. Over the last month, she had seen the darker side of humanity. She knew that sometimes, the only way to deal with a Gaston was to be the Beast.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of purple and black. The truck finally groaned to a halt in a desolate valley surrounded by crumbling limestone cliffs.
The four men hopped out, their smiles now replaced by cold, hungry expressions. One of them pulled a pistol from his waistband, while another flicked open a long knife.
"Alright, out of the truck," the guide sneered, lighting a cigarette. "Welcome to the ruins. See all around you? Beautiful, isn't it? In a few minutes, you'll be part of the scenery. Don't worry about the girl; we'll make sure she's well taken care of before we move her to the next 'client'."
Huang Wen didn't move. He sat on the back of the truck, his expression bored. "The ruins? You mean the graveyard?"
The guide laughed. "Call it what you want, kid."
"I was being literal," Huang Wen said, his voice turning ice-cold. He stood up slowly, his eyes glowing faintly in the twilight. "My senses tell me there are 131 bodies buried within a hundred yards of this spot. Mostly tourists. Some locals. Did you do all of them, or did you have help?"
The guide's laughter died in his throat. He took an instinctive step back. "How... how do you know that?"
"Who exactly are you?" the man with the gun shouted, his hand trembling as he leveled the barrel at Huang Wen's chest. "Stay back! One more word and I'll blow your head off!"