The fourth morning arrived with deceptive calm. The Nile had returned to its usual gentle flow, sunlight glinting off the surface in diamond shards. Birds had resumed their calls; children laughed again near the water's edge. Yet beneath the normalcy lay a taut wire of anticipation. Everyone felt it—the Red Brotherhood would not retreat forever. Nekht had tasted defeat; men like him did not swallow humiliation quietly.
Kael-Ankh stood at the village lookout point—a low rise of packed earth overlooking the northern bend of the river—Spear of Montu in hand, Djed amulet warm against his chest. Senet knelt nearby, Bow of Neith already strung, an arrow nocked loosely. Meret paced slowly, khopesh resting on her shoulder like a casual accessory. Nefertari leaned against a palm trunk, sistrum dangling from her belt, eyes scanning the water with the patience of a hunting cat.
Ptahhotep joined them last, staff in hand, the purified Was-scepter fragment now affixed to its head like a white-gold crown.
"They come from upstream," he said simply. "I felt the taint in the wind at dawn. More than before. Nekht has called reinforcements."
Kael nodded. "How many?"
"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five. And something darker. A construct—Apophis essence bound into flesh and shadow."
Senet's fingers tightened on the bowstring. "We hold the bank. They can't land without paying in blood."
Meret grinned, spinning the khopesh once. "Let them try."
Nefertari's lips curved. "I'll scatter their courage before they even step ashore."
Kael felt the fragments stir in unison—Horus's eye burning for retribution, Anubis's shadow steadying his heart, Isis's veil ready to mend, Thoth's insight sharpening every sense.
They waited.
The attack came at mid-morning.
First the sound—low chanting carried on the breeze, rhythmic and guttural. Then the boats: five reed skiffs this time, painted black and red, prows snarling with Set-beast heads. Twice as many men as before—scarred, red-banded, weapons gleaming. At the lead boat's bow stood Nekht, staff raised, the black-iron was-scepter fragment now pulsing visibly against his chest. Behind him crouched something wrong—a hulking shape of shadow and scales, eyes like burning coals, coils of darkness writhing where limbs should be. An Apophis proxy—chaos serpent made manifest.
Nekht's voice rolled across the water.
"You defied the Red One once, stranger. Now witness his true face. Surrender the village, or we burn it and feed your souls to the serpent."
Kael stepped to the water's edge.
"You talk too much."
He raised the Spear of Montu.
Thoth's Analytical Glance (16 Heka) → 224/240 remaining
Golden lines overlaid the scene: weak points in the skiffs' hulls (reed joints vulnerable to piercing), chaotic flows swirling thickest around Nekht's pectoral (primary power source), the Apophis proxy's core—a pulsing red-black heart beneath its chest scales.
Kael smiled.
"Senet—target the boats. Meret—flank left when they land. Nefertari—disorient the serpent. Ptahhotep—hold the center."
They moved.
Senet drew and loosed in one fluid motion. The arrow—guided by Neith's huntress echo—struck the lead skiff's prow, splintering the reed binding. The boat listed; men shouted.
Meret sprinted along the bank, khopesh low.
Nefertari shook her sistrum—Sistrum's Call (14 Heka) → 210/240. A bright sonic wave rolled outward, staggering the cultists and making the Apophis proxy hiss in pain.
Kael charged the waterline as the first skiff grounded.
A cultist lunged with a spear. Kael parried with Montu's shaft, then thrust—Eye of Horus – Striking (24 Heka) → 186/240. Solar vengeance flared along the spearhead, piercing the man's chest and burning through armor like paper. The cultist fell screaming, wound cauterized and smoking.
More landed.
Meret met them with a whirlwind of sickle strikes—khopesh carving red arcs, Bastet's feline spirit adding unnatural speed. A man swung at her; she ducked, slashed across his thighs, leaving him bleeding and howling.
Senet's arrows flew—each finding throat or eye with merciless precision.
Nefertari danced among the chaos, sistrum rattling, sonic pulses knocking men off balance.
Nekht roared, raising his staff.
Red lightning cracked downward.
Kael met it head-on.
Skydragon's Roar (32 Heka) → 154/240
Wind howled from his outstretched hand, a roaring gale that scattered the lightning and slammed into Nekht's boat. The Apophis proxy lunged—coils whipping.
Kael spun the Spear, meeting the strike. Bronze met shadow; sparks flew. He thrust deep—Horus's vengeance burning along the shaft—piercing the proxy's core. The serpent shrieked, dissolving into black smoke that Nekht frantically tried to recall.
Ptahhotep stepped forward, Was-scepter raised.
Purified Was Command (artifact use)
White-gold light flared, disrupting the remaining chaos heka. Cultists screamed as their red armbands smoked and crumbled.
Nekht staggered, clutching his pectoral.
"You… cannot stop what comes."
He hurled something small—a clay tablet etched with red glyphs—into the mud at Kael's feet, then signaled retreat. The surviving cultists scrambled back to the boats, poling away upstream.
Silence fell—broken only by panting breaths and the lap of water.
Kael picked up the tablet.
Hieroglyphs burned into his mind: coordinates—exact latitude and longitude of a hidden Set shrine near a dry wadi west of the village. A note in Nekht's jagged hand:
The gate to the Duat opens. The serpent will rise. Come, and die.
Ptahhotep read over his shoulder, face paling.
"That shrine… it sits above one of the true mouths of the underworld. Nekht means to summon a greater avatar of Apophis there—enough chaos to tip the balance permanently. If he succeeds, the Duat itself could flood into the living world."
Kael crushed the tablet in his fist.
"Then we go. Tonight."
Senet stepped close, bow still in hand.
"We're with you."
Meret wiped blood from her khopesh.
"To the end."
Nefertari pressed against his side, sistrum quiet now.
"And beyond, if it comes to that."
Kael looked at them—three women who had chosen him, fought beside him, loved him in their own fierce ways.
He pulled them into a tight embrace—Senet's steady warmth, Meret's vibrant strength, Nefertari's wild heat.
Ptahhotep watched, then spoke softly.
"Rest this afternoon. Study the scroll. Tonight we descend."
As the sun began its descent, they returned to the birth-house.
No words were needed.
They shed clothes slowly—Senet's gentle fingers untying knots, Meret's playful tugs, Nefertari's teasing claws. They moved to the mats near Taweret's statue, the goddess's protective gaze over them.
Senet kissed Kael first—slow, deep, tongue tracing his lips while her hands roamed his chest. Meret pressed against his back, kissing his neck, teeth grazing, hands sliding down to stroke him firmly. Nefertari knelt between his legs, taking him into her mouth—slow swirls of tongue, hollowed cheeks, eyes locked on his.
Kael groaned, fingers threading into her short hair.
They shifted—Senet straddling his face, thighs framing him as he tasted her, tongue circling her clit while she rocked gently, soft moans escaping. Meret mounted him reverse again, sinking down with a sigh, rolling her hips in deep, grinding circles. Nefertari moved behind Meret, kissing her neck, fingers teasing her nipples, then sliding down to circle where she joined Kael.
The rhythm built—slow, sensual, layered. Senet's thighs trembled as she came against his tongue, flooding his mouth with her taste. Meret followed—hips bucking, inner walls fluttering around him. Nefertari guided Meret off, then took her place—facing Kael this time, sinking down slowly, savoring every inch.
She rode him with deliberate intensity—deep, rolling thrusts, nails raking his chest, whispering praise and filth in equal measure.
Kael thrust up to meet her, hands gripping her hips, pulling her down harder. Senet and Meret flanked them—Senet kissing Nefertari deeply, Meret sucking marks along Kael's throat.
Nefertari came with a wild cry—body arching, clenching tight around him. Kael spilled inside her moments later, hips jerking, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
They collapsed together—sweat-slick, trembling, laughing softly in the afterglow.
Senet curled against his left side.
Meret sprawled across his chest.
Nefertari draped over his legs, head on his thigh.
No promises spoken.
Only the quiet certainty that whatever waited in the Duat, they would face it as one.
System Note – Pre-Descent Bonding Climax
Harem Resonance Final Pre-Descent:
• Senet: 79% → 89%
• Meret: 74% → 86%
• Nefertari: 88% → 94% (non-formal bond at peak intensity) Heka Capacity: 240/240 (full overflow banked)
Night fell.
The wadi waited.
They rose together—armed, armored in resolve, hearts aligned.
The descent began.