His body felt strange yet powerful, the limbs longer and stronger than his human form. There was a grace to his movements, an inherent control, but his mind still clung to the vestiges of who he once was.
"You awaken," a soft voice said, carrying authority.
He turned toward the voice and froze. Standing before him was a woman—no, a goddess. Her beauty was beyond mortal comprehension, an otherworldly visage that seemed almost familiar. She had high, sharp cheekbones, full lips, and long, dark eyes that glowed faintly with a golden hue, their light carrying an almost hypnotic pull. Her crimson hair, vibrant and fiery, cascaded down her shoulders like a river of silk, framing a face that was achingly perfect. She was dressed in a regal golden gown adorned with intricate symbols of divine power, every detail exuding an aura of command. The air itself seemed to bow to her presence.
His breath caught as recognition dawned—she looked exactly like the actress who had played Hathor in "Stargate SG-1." The realization unsettled him, blurring the line between fiction and reality. How could someone from a TV show stand here, alive, breathing, and so utterly dominating?
"You do not yet know who you are," she continued, her voice resonating with a seductive, maternal authority. She took a step closer, her golden eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "But that will change."
He opened his mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Disoriented, his mind reeled with alien instincts and fractured human memories, struggling to reconcile the two.
"You are newly born, unshaped," she said, her tone softening as though addressing a favored child. Yet there was an edge beneath it, a calculated sharpness. "Listen well, for I will name you. From this moment forward, you are Sobek, chosen to serve under my guidance and rise to greatness. Son of Hathor, System Lord and Queen of the Goa'uld."
The name struck him like a thunderclap—Sobek. The word echoed in his mind, reshaping his sense of self. He repeated it silently, letting it take root. It wasn’t just a name; it was an identity, a mantle of power. Milton Yeager—the man who had spent countless nights immersed in sci-fi shows and fandoms, who had no family left to mourn him—was fading into the past. His old life had been lonely, ordinary, and unremarkable. This new life, strange and terrifying as it was, offered something more. Purpose.
The corners of Hathor’s lips curved into a knowing smile as she watched him absorb her words. "You are strong," she said, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper that sent shivers down his spine. "And you will learn the ways of the Goa'uld. Rise, my child, and take your place in the galaxy."
He stood, surprised at how naturally his new body responded. But as he did, he realized with a start that he was naked.
It should have bothered him—shame, discomfort, even fear—but there was nothing. It was as though his previous life had erased such thoughts.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Hathor’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. Then, with a flick of her wrist, she summoned two attendants. They entered the room silently, their bare feet moving across the ornate floor without a sound. They were tall and strikingly beautiful, their features flawless in a way that seemed almost unnatural, and they wore flowing garments that shimmered faintly in the dim light.
"Take him to his chambers," Hathor commanded, her voice regaining its regal authority. "He will be prepared for the duties ahead."
The attendants bowed deeply and gestured for him to follow. As they led him through the corridors, Sobek took in his surroundings. The palace—or what he could only describe as a palace—was a masterpiece of alien architecture. The walls were adorned with gold and stone carvings, intricate depictions of gods and symbols of power. Everything was grand, opulent, and imposing.
They passed through a set of towering doors, and Sobek caught his first glimpse of the world outside. Massive pyramids rose from a lush, bioluminescent jungle, their peaks piercing a sky painted in shades of deep purple and vibrant gold. The air was thick with the hum of unseen life, and the sheer scale of it all left him momentarily breathless. It was a world that seemed alive in every sense.
But as awe filled him, a pang of sorrow followed. He thought of Earth—not of any particular place or person, but of the simplicity of his old life. He’d spent so many nights alone, losing himself in the comfort of sci-fi shows and fan theories, escaping into worlds that felt more alive than his own. Now, he was part of one of those worlds, but the cost of entry had been his humanity.
He barely had time to process the thought before they arrived at his chambers. The attendants opened the doors to reveal a room as lavish as the rest of the palace. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, and a massive circular bed draped in silken sheets dominated the space. A low table held an array of exotic fruits and delicacies, their colors vibrant and inviting. The air smelled faintly of incense and aged wood, a scent both calming and foreign.
On the far wall, a large, illuminated screen flickered to life as he approached. The image it displayed was of his own reflection. Sobek stared at it, transfixed. He was handsome, undeniably so—tall, with striking black hair and a sharp jawline. His skin had a smooth, ethereal quality, and his teal eyes glowed faintly, exuding an alien power that was as beautiful as it was unnerving. The figure on the screen was young, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, and bore a regal presence that Sobek was only beginning to understand.
He turned as the attendants approached a chest at the side of the room, retrieving garments fit for royalty. They began dressing him in silence, wrapping him in fine linen and adorning him with golden jewelry. The process felt surreal, but there was a naturalness to it, as though his body remembered a life he had never lived.
When they finished, they stepped back, bowing low. Sobek examined himself in the screen once more, noting the intricate ornaments now adorning his hands. As he flexed his fingers, the devices seemed to respond, their faint hum syncing with his thoughts. A subtle understanding bloomed in his mind—they were weapons, tools of immense power. He couldn’t remember exactly what they did, but he felt their potential, an extension of his will waiting to be unleashed. It was as if the technology had fused with him, bending to his command without explanation.
The attendants remained motionless, awaiting his next command. Sobek, now fully dressed and armed, turned toward the exit. There was much to learn, and his new life was only beginning.