They stood at the mouth of the Temple of the Sun, an ancient ruin buried deep beneath the endless dunes of the Sahara, its entrance barely visible beneath layers of shifting sand. The Pyramid’s elites had tried for centuries to find the temple, but no one who entered ever returned. The temple’s guardians were not made of flesh—they were illusions and traps crafted by forgotten gods, designed to twist the mind and crush the soul.

Alastor, Selene, and Aurora stood on the threshold, staring into the yawning black maw of the entrance. The weight of the centuries pressed down on them, carried by hot desert winds that howled across the dunes. This was the final challenge—the place where so many before them had perished. But failure wasn’t an option. The Eye of Ra lay within these cursed walls, waiting for someone bold—and clever—enough to claim it.

Aurora tapped at her neural interface, scanning the ruins with a furrowed brow. Every system she had was struggling—the ancient magic woven into the temple scrambled her sensors, filling the air with false readings. "We’re flying blind," she muttered, frustration creeping into her voice. "Whatever tech they used to build this place... it’s older than anything I’ve ever seen."

Selene smirked, her violet eyes glinting. "Good. That means they won’t see us coming, either." She adjusted her grip on her blade, already bracing herself for the dangers that lurked within. "Let’s get this over with."

Alastor stood in silence, studying the intricate carvings etched into the temple’s weathered stone. Hieroglyphs danced across the surface like living things—patterns of suns, falcons, and spirals twisting into stories too ancient to decipher. He knew they weren’t just decoration. Every mark was part of the puzzle. Every line of scripture was a warning—and a clue.

"The gods didn’t build this temple to be found," Alastor muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "They built it to be forgotten."

Selene shot him a sidelong glance. "Then why not leave it buried?"

Alastor exhaled slowly, brushing sand from one of the glyphs with his fingers. The scarab beneath his sleeve hummed, resonating with the ancient energy woven into the walls. "Because the past always finds a way back," he said quietly. "And Ra’s power was never meant to stay hidden forever."

Aurora stepped beside him, her neural interface pulsing faintly as it struggled to decode the temple’s layout. "This whole place is one big trap," she said, frowning. "We need to move fast. The longer we’re inside, the more it’ll mess with our senses." She glanced at Alastor. "You’re the one with the Codex in your head. How do we get through this without getting killed?"

Alastor scanned the entrance, letting the Codex’s knowledge flow through him like a second heartbeat. The visions came in fragments—glimpses of traps laid within walls, of doors that led nowhere, of illusions so real they could drive a man to madness. But through the chaos, a pattern emerged. Every trap was part of a sequence, a trial. And those who understood the trials—**who moved through them with purpose—**could survive.

"We have to treat this like the loop," Alastor said, his voice steady. "There’s no map, no shortcut. We follow the trials step by step, and we don’t stop. If we hesitate, we die."

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

Selene grinned, her hand resting easily on the hilt of her blade. "Sounds like my kind of challenge."

Aurora gave a grim nod, her gaze flickering between the shifting shadows within the temple. "Lead the way, boss. Let’s get that Eye and get out of here."

Alastor stepped forward, the scarab buzzing beneath his skin like a silent guide. The temple entrance yawned open, a wide, dark tunnel carved deep into the earth. Faint glyphs glowed along the walls, humming with ancient power, as if the very stones pulsed with life.

They entered without hesitation, the darkness swallowing them whole. The air grew thick and still, the temperature plummeting as they descended deeper into the temple’s belly. The light of the outside world faded behind them, leaving only the flickering glow of the glyphs to guide their way.

The first challenge came almost immediately.

The walls of the tunnel shifted as they walked, the glyphs rearranging themselves into different patterns. The floor buckled and cracked, revealing jagged pits that led to endless darkness below. Alastor caught Aurora’s arm just before she stepped onto a section that crumbled beneath her feet.

"Watch your step," he muttered. "Nothing in here is what it seems."

Aurora’s neural interface buzzed erratically. "Great. Now the floor’s trying to kill us."

As they moved deeper, the walls began to shimmer, twisting into strange illusions. Phantom figures appeared in the shadows—whispering voices, familiar faces, and fleeting images of people they had lost along the way. The temple preyed on their minds, pulling memories from the depths of their souls and warping them into weapons.

Selene froze for a moment, her hand twitching toward her blade as a figure from her past appeared before her—a brother, long dead, his eyes filled with sorrow.

"Don’t stop," Alastor warned, grabbing her arm and pulling her forward. "They aren’t real."

Selene gritted her teeth, forcing herself to look away from the specter. "I know," she muttered. "It’s just hard to remember that when they look like ghosts."

Aurora’s voice was tight. "I think I just saw my own grave. This place sucks."

They pressed on, their pace quickening as the illusions grew more intense. The walls seemed to pulse with life, shifting and warping as if the temple itself were alive—a living maze, eager to trap them within its depths.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they reached the heart of the temple—a massive chamber sealed by two enormous stone doors, each carved with the likeness of Ra, his eyes blazing with solar fire. The glyphs around the doors hummed with energy, ancient magic woven into every line and curve.

"This is it," Aurora whispered, her voice hushed with awe. "The Eye of Ra is just beyond those doors."

Alastor placed his hand on the smooth surface of the stone, feeling the energy thrumming beneath it—a pulse that matched the rhythm of his scarab. The temple seemed to recognize him, acknowledging him as someone who had walked the path of death and rebirth, just as the Pyramid’s founders had.

"Stand back," Alastor said, his voice steady. "The final trial’s already begun."

The glyphs shifted beneath his hand, rearranging into a new pattern—a spiral that mirrored the endless loop they had been trapped in. The stone doors shuddered, ancient mechanisms grinding to life after centuries of stillness.

With a groan of stone on stone, the doors creaked open, spilling golden sunlight into the chamber. The light danced across carvings of gods long forgotten—Ra, Anubis, Thoth—all watching from the walls like silent witnesses.

Alastor stepped forward, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. The Eye of Ra lay just beyond those doors, waiting. And with it, the power to end the loop—and reshape the future.