The air was stale, heavy with the scent of ancient stone and forgotten history. Raj Darkthrone stood at the threshold of the tomb, his lantern casting a flickering glow on the jagged walls. His sharp eyes scanned every inch of the stonework, fingers tracing the carvings like an old lover relearning familiar skin.

He smirked. "They thought they could hide it. Seal their secrets in darkness. Fools. Every riddle has an answer, and every lock can be opened... if you're clever enough."

Behind him, the team waited in silence, their unease palpable. Raj could feel their nervous glances, their whispered doubts. Let them be afraid, he thought. Fear was a useful tool—it kept people obedient and predictable.

Victor cleared his throat. "So, Raj… what are we looking at?"

Raj didn't answer immediately. He liked to keep them waiting, let them stew in their curiosity a little longer. Theatrics mattered. The right amount of mystery kept people pliable.

"This tomb," Raj finally said, his voice low and deliberate, "is far older than anything we've ever found. Its design... it's almost like a mosaic of ancient cultures. Elements from early Mesopotamian temples, hints of Mesoamerican craftsmanship, even some proto-Indus symbols." He paused, letting that sink in. "But none of those civilizations could have built this. Not at the same time. Not in this way."

He turned, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. "This is something far older. Something forgotten."

Victor's POV

Victor watched Raj as he spoke, the faint glow of the lanterns casting eerie shadows across his face. There was something unsettling about the man—always had been. Raj wasn't like the other scholars Victor had worked with over the years.

Where others saw history as something to study, Raj saw it as a battlefield, a prize to be won. He didn't just want to uncover the past; he wanted to own it.

"The man's a genius," Victor thought. "But genius comes with a price."

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

He glanced at the rest of the team. Eva looked mesmerized by Raj's words, her notebook clutched tightly in her hands. Elias, on the other hand, seemed skeptical, his brows furrowed as he adjusted his glasses.

Victor shook his head. "They don't see it yet, do they? Raj isn't leading us out of curiosity. He's leading us because he has no choice. He's desperate."

Raj returned his attention to the carvings. Symbols of serpents, gods, and warring figures danced across the stone. He ran his fingers over them, his mind already piecing the story together.

"This is a chronicle," he said aloud. "A story of gods and demons, of creation and destruction. These builders weren't just architects—they were historians, trying to preserve something the world was never meant to know."

Elias leaned in, curiosity overcoming his caution. "Preserve what exactly?"

Raj turned to face him, his eyes cold. "The truth. The real history of this world—one buried so deep that no one even knows to look for it."

He traced a symbol depicting a giant figure standing over a burning city. "This is no mere tomb. It's a vault—a prison, perhaps. And somewhere inside, the key to it all lies waiting for us."

Victor chuckled nervously. "A bit dramatic, don't you think?"

Raj smiled faintly. "History is always dramatic, Victor. Especially when it's soaked in blood."

Elias' POV

Elias frowned as he studied the carvings. He hated to admit it, but Raj was right. The symbols didn't belong to any single culture. They were... blended, layered, as though this tomb had been built by a civilization far older than anything recorded.

He glanced at Raj, who was still speaking, his voice smooth and confident. "How does he do it?" Elias thought. "How does he always know? It's like he sees connections the rest of us can't."

But there was something else, something beneath the surface. Elias had worked with Raj long enough to recognize it: the darkness in his eyes, the weight of his obsession.

"He's brilliant," Elias admitted to himself. "But brilliance like his always comes with a cost. For him... and for us."

Raj's Monologue

Raj's gaze lingered on the carvings, the weight of his obsession pressing against his chest like an old wound. "Two years," he reminded himself. "Two years left before my body betrays me completely."

He clenched his jaw. He wasn't afraid of death—death was an old acquaintance, one he had met countless times in the jungles of Cambodia, the frozen wastelands of Siberia, and the treacherous sands of Egypt. But he refused to fade into obscurity. Not without leaving something behind.

"No," he thought bitterly. "I will not die as just another forgotten name in the pages of history. I'll make them remember me—immortalize me in stone and legend."

He glanced back at the team, eyes narrowing. Some of them won't make it out of here alive. They were useful tools, nothing more. And like all tools, they had their limits.

Raj turned back to the wall, his mind racing. He needed to move fast. Time was against him. But if this tomb held even half of what the legends promised... it would be worth every sacrifice.

"Stay close," he said, his tone commanding. "This place isn't a relic—it's a trap. Every step we take is a gamble. One wrong move, and this tomb will swallow us whole. Trust me, and you'll survive. Question me, and you won't."

The team nodded, their unease growing.

Raj smirked. "Good. Let them fear me. Fear sharpens the mind, keeps them obedient."

He stepped forward, his lantern illuminating the dark corridor ahead.

"Let's see what secrets you've buried, old gods," he whispered. "And let's see if I'm clever enough to claim them."