The temple was steeped in silence, its grand halls feeling heavier with the weight of the ancient knowledge inscribed into its very stone. Dust hung in the air like relics of a past age, swirling in the flickering torchlight that lined the walls. The only sounds that punctuated the stillness were the faint, distant tremors of the force beneath the surface. Thoth stood near the center, his fingers brushing across the carvings on the wall, his mind tangled with thoughts that stretched far beyond the present moment. His gaze, intense and unwavering, studied the symbols that seemed to whisper back at him, urging him toward discovery.
The pull of the ancient force had become a constant in Thoth’s mind—persistent, insistent, like a heartbeat in the shadows. Every moment in this forsaken temple seemed to feed its growing power. Thoth had seen glimpses of the possibilities that lay within the force: control over time, space, even the gods themselves. But that power came at a cost, one that Thoth had not fully reckoned with.
Behind him, Anubis watched with cold calculation. He had not moved for some time, standing with arms crossed, his gaze locked onto Thoth. The tension between them had been building for days, like a storm gathering on the horizon. Thoth’s growing obsession with the force had strained their partnership. Anubis, always the one to weigh consequences, knew what was at stake if Thoth went too far.
“You feel it, don’t you?” Thoth asked, not turning to face Anubis. His voice was low, but there was a spark of challenge in it. “The force is growing stronger.”
Anubis didn’t answer immediately, his expression hardening. When he spoke, his voice was as cold and steady as the grave. “It grows, yes. But so does its danger. You’re too close, Thoth. You cannot see it clearly.”
Thoth’s fingers stilled on the carvings, and a smirk touched his lips. “You’ve always been afraid of what you can’t control, Anubis. That’s the difference between us. I see possibility where you see only danger.”
Anubis’ jaw tightened, but his response was cut short by the sudden groaning of the massive doors at the far end of the temple. The sound echoed through the chamber, filling the silence with an ominous weight. Both gods turned their attention to the doorway as it slowly creaked open, revealing a figure cloaked in shadow.
The Messenger of Osiris.
Clad in dark robes that seemed to absorb the dim light, the figure stepped forward with slow, deliberate movements. The air in the temple shifted, growing colder, as if the presence of the messenger carried the chill of the Underworld with it. The weight of Osiris’ authority hung around the figure like a shroud, commanding attention, demanding respect.
Anubis remained still, his eyes narrowing slightly. He had been expecting this—Osiris’ intervention, a warning of some sort. He knew Thoth’s defiance was drawing the ire of the Lord of the Underworld, but he hadn’t anticipated it would happen so soon.
“The Messenger of Osiris,” Anubis murmured, though the title was unnecessary. They both knew who this was.
The messenger approached, their face hidden beneath a deep hood. They paused before the two gods, bowing their head slightly in a gesture of respect. “Thoth. Anubis,” the messenger intoned, their voice low and reverberating with a quiet power. “I come with a message from the Lord of the Underworld. Osiris has foreseen the consequences of your actions and commands you to follow the path set before you.”
Thoth’s expression hardened, irritation flashing in his eyes. His fingers curled into fists at his sides as he stepped forward, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “I do not need Osiris’ interference,” he spat, his anger barely contained. “He does not see what I have seen.”
The messenger’s gaze shifted beneath the shadow of their hood, their attention momentarily resting on Thoth. “Osiris is aware of the force you seek to control. He knows the danger it poses to the balance of life and death. He commands you to follow Iset’s instructions. The path must not be altered.”
Thoth’s frustration boiled beneath his calm exterior. He had grown tired of Osiris’ constant meddling, his insistence on following a path that Thoth knew was flawed. Iset’s sacrifice was not necessary, not when Thoth had uncovered other ways to bind the force. Osiris was too cautious, too fearful to seize the power that lay before them.
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“Iset’s instructions are incomplete,” Thoth said sharply, stepping closer to the messenger. His eyes gleamed with defiance. “There is more to this force than you—or Osiris—understand. If we are to harness it, we must explore every possibility.”
Anubis, who had remained silent, now stepped forward, his gaze fixed on Thoth. “There are no other possibilities, Thoth. The force is growing out of control, and if we do not act, it will consume everything. Iset’s sacrifice is the only way to bind it.”
Thoth’s gaze flicked to Anubis, his eyes narrowing in irritation. “You are as blind as Osiris. You both cling to the old ways, unwilling to see the truth.”
(Thoth had always walked a path that few dared follow. Where others hesitated, he pressed forward, seeking knowledge at any cost. But in his quest for understanding, he had often pushed too far. Seshat had seen this before—the same ambition that had made him great was now leading him toward a dangerous precipice.)
Seshat’s voice whispered through the temple, an echo of the past that lingered just beyond reach. Thoth had always pushed boundaries, always sought answers where others saw only risk. But now, that ambition was leading him into darker waters, and Seshat knew that there was little that could stop him.
The messenger’s voice cut through the tension, their tone growing sharper. “Osiris has foreseen what will happen if you defy his command, Thoth. The force you seek to control will turn against you. You cannot bind it without Iset’s sacrifice.”
Thoth’s hands trembled with anger, his frustration spilling over into his words. “You speak of sacrifice as if it is the only solution. I have seen other ways. I have uncovered knowledge older than Osiris himself, knowledge that can bind the force without the need for blood.”
Anubis’ eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. “You speak of knowledge, but all I hear is arrogance. You think you can bend this force to your will? It will destroy you, Thoth. Just as it has destroyed those who came before.”
Thoth turned to face Anubis fully now, his gaze burning with intensity. “And you think you know better? You, who has always feared what he cannot control? I am not like those who came before, Anubis. I am the god of wisdom. I see what you and Osiris cannot.”
(There was a time when Thoth’s wisdom had guided the gods, when his pursuit of knowledge had brought order to the chaos of the universe. But now, as the force whispered promises of power into his mind, that wisdom was being tainted by ambition. Seshat had seen it before—how the thirst for control could twist even the greatest minds.)
Seshat’s voice carried a note of warning, a reminder of the path that Thoth was treading. But her words went unheeded, lost in the growing tension between the gods.
The messenger took a step forward, their presence looming like a shadow over the room. “Osiris commands you, Thoth. You will follow Iset’s instructions, or you will face the consequences of your defiance.”
Thoth’s lips curled into a sneer. “Osiris commands, but I do not follow. I have seen the future, and it is not his to dictate.”
Anubis moved then, his body tense, his voice sharp with anger. “You would defy Osiris, the Lord of the Underworld? You think yourself above him?”
Thoth met his gaze, unflinching. “I think myself beyond the limitations you and Osiris have imposed on this world. I see what neither of you can.”
The room seemed to darken as the weight of Thoth’s words settled over them. The ancient power of the temple stirred, the force beneath the surface growing stronger, feeding off the conflict between the gods.
Anubis’ voice was cold as the grave. “You are blinded, Thoth. Blinded by your own ambition. If you continue down this path, you will destroy us all.”
Thoth’s eyes burned with defiance. “Or I will save us. You think small, Anubis. I see the possibilities, the power that lies beyond.”
(Thoth had always walked the line between brilliance and destruction. He had always been able to see farther than the others, to grasp what others could not. But now, as Seshat watched him, she saw the same pattern repeating itself. The same ambition that had once elevated him was now leading him toward a fall.)
Seshat’s voice was softer now, almost mournful, as though she already knew how this story would end. Thoth had always believed in his own vision above all others, and it had brought him greatness. But it had also brought him isolation. And now, as he stood defiant before the messenger of Osiris, that isolation had never been more apparent.
Anubis turned to the messenger, his voice hard. “You’ve delivered your message. Tell Osiris that I will follow Iset’s instructions. Thoth may choose his own path, but I will not allow this force to consume us.”
The messenger nodded once, their expression unreadable beneath the hood. “Very well. Osiris will await your decision, Thoth. But know this—there will be consequences if you choose to defy him.”
With that, the messenger turned and left the temple, their dark robes trailing behind them like a shadow that swallowed the light.
Thoth watched them go, his hands trembling with anger, his mind racing with thoughts of rebellion. He had seen the future, had felt the power of the force beneath his fingertips. He would not be bound by Osiris’ fear or Anubis’ caution.
“I will not be told what to do by Osiris,” Thoth muttered, more to himself than to Anubis. “I will find another way.”
Anubis stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “There is no other way, Thoth. You are playing with forces you do not understand.”
Thoth’s gaze flicked to Anubis, his eyes cold. “I understand more than you think. And when the time comes, you will see that I was right.”
Anubis’ face hardened. “And if you’re wrong? If this force destroys us all? Will you still be so certain?”
Thoth didn’t answer. Instead, he turned back to the wall, his fingers tracing the ancient symbols once more. He could feel the force calling to him, pulling him closer. He would find a way to harness it, to control it. He had to.
(Seshat had seen this before—the slow descent into obsession, the way ambition could twist even the sharpest minds. Thoth had always been brilliant, but now, as the force whispered its promises into his ear, that brilliance was turning to darkness.)
Seshat’s voice faded into the background as Thoth’s mind became consumed by the possibilities that lay before him. He would not be bound by Osiris or Anubis. He would find a way to harness the force, to control it. And in doing so, he would reshape the very fabric of the universe.
But as the darkness of the temple deepened, and the weight of the force pressed down upon him, Thoth could not shake the feeling that he was walking a path from which there was no return.