The plane staggered and lurched within the sandstorm. O'Connell, Amir, and Jonathan fought desperately, until finally it crashed into the distant desert. Seeing the wreckage from afar, Imhotep slowly withdrew his power.
Evelyn gazed anxiously in the direction of the crash, her hands clasped tightly together as she prayed silently, hoping O'Connell and the others had survived.
Afterward, Wes, Beni, and Evelyn followed Imhotep into the underground temple.
The passage twisted and wound like a labyrinth. The walls were carved with ancient and intricate patterns, each stroke imbued with the Egyptians' deep understanding of life, death, and rebirth.
Imhotep's fingers brushed lightly across the carvings. He could feel the power embedded within them—the power he had once known so well.
With practiced ease, Imhotep found his way to the altar, the holiest place in the temple. Upon it was engraved the image of Ra, the sun god, symbolizing the source of life and power.
Without hesitation or pity, Imhotep bound Evelyn tightly to the altar.
She struggled violently, the rough ropes cutting into her wrists, making them sting and burn. She looked like a trapped bird, desperately trying to break free of its cage.
With tenderness, Imhotep placed Anck-su-Namun's corpse beside Evelyn. His eyes brimmed with longing as he whispered softly, "My beloved."
Behind him, Wes flicked his hand. The Book of the Dead, pulled by unseen power, floated slowly into Imhotep's grasp.
Next, Imhotep carefully arranged the five sacred canopic jars he had reclaimed from the Americans across the altar. His eyes gleamed as they lingered on them—for within each jar was sealed a fragment of Anck-su-Namun's soul, the key to her resurrection.
Deeper within the temple, the flickering torchlight cast twisted shadows on the ancient stone walls as he began to chant. The mysterious, ancient words flowed in a low, drawn-out rhythm, resonating through the chamber.
From the jars seeped streams of black smoke, drifting upward like living things, drawn hungrily into Anck-su-Namun's corpse. Evelyn's eyes widened in horror. She could feel the malice within those dark vapors. If Anck-su-Namun absorbed them completely, Evelyn knew she herself would die.
Frantically, she fought harder against the ropes. Only one thought filled her mind: She must escape. She must stop this from happening.
"Crack… crack…" To Evelyn's terror, Anck-su-Namun's corpse twitched.
Her fingers trembled first, then her entire body shifted ever so slightly.
Then, with a gasp, she began to breathe deeply, greedily, like a drowning soul dragged from the water, sucking in the air as though she meant to devour the entire world's breath.
"Anck-su-Namun!" Imhotep's urgent cry rang through the temple.
His eyes locked on his beloved, blazing with a passion so fierce it seemed capable of igniting the very air around him.
"Kill her, and you will be fully restored," he said breathlessly, pressing a dagger into Anck-su-Namun's hands with solemn care.
In the dim light, the dagger gleamed with a chilling, deadly glow.
Anck-su-Namun steadied herself as she accepted the dagger, then slowly rose to her feet.
Raising it high with both hands, she aimed the sharp tip directly at Evelyn's heart. In the next instant, she was about to plunge it down and pierce Evelyn's chest, completing the key step of her resurrection.
"Bang! Clang!" A bullet streaked through the air like lightning, striking the dagger with perfect precision. The impact was so strong that the weapon was instantly knocked from Anck-su-Namun's grasp, clattering across the stone floor.
Anck-su-Namun staggered under the force, her body swaying as if she might topple, but she managed to regain her balance.
"O'Connell! Brother!" Evelyn cried out in shock and joy, her eyes brimming with relief at the sight of the two men who had appeared.
Smoke still curled from O'Connell's revolver—the proof that he had just saved her life.
Imhotep's face darkened with fury. He quickly steadied Anck-su-Namun and snarled, "Insects!" His roar shook the temple as a surge of raw power erupted from his body.
The ground quaked, dust rained down, and something ancient began to stir.
From beneath the earth, more than a dozen mummies clawed their way upward—priests who had served Imhotep three thousand years ago, now awakened once more at his command.
Their decayed robes hung in tatters, their ancient weapons still clutched tightly in their hands—spears glinting with cold light, curved blades etched with the scars of centuries.
Their eyes were empty, emotionless. Only obedience to their master remained.
"Kill them!" Imhotep bellowed.
At once, the mummies obeyed, rushing forward with weapons raised, charging at O'Connell and Jonathan.
"Bang! Bang! Bang!"
O'Connell fired again and again, his revolver spitting fire with flawless accuracy, as though alive in his hands. Yet the bullets did little more than stir dust from the advancing mummies.
They pressed closer, relentless and unstoppable.
"Catch!" Jonathan shouted suddenly.
From the darkness, a golden greatsword spun through the air, leaving a blazing arc of light in its wake as it flew toward O'Connell.
His arm moved as though guided by instinct. With a single, effortless motion, he caught the sword in one hand.
The blade gleamed with radiant brilliance, awakening in his grasp and flooding him with power unlike anything he had ever known.
He swung it with fluid grace, as if swordsmanship had always been second nature.
Under the golden blade, the mummies fell apart like fragile clay figures, their bodies cleaved cleanly in two before collapsing into lifeless heaps.
That power of his has grown again—and now he suddenly knows swordsmanship? Is he cheating? Wes thought, watching O'Connell.
The golden light around him grew brighter with every swing, pulsing in rhythm with his strikes, as though responding to some mysterious divine force.
Imhotep too noticed the unnatural brilliance radiating from O'Connell. He had never seen such power before—and decided he would personally end this threat.
"The Book of Amun-Ra!" Evelyn's voice rang through the chamber. "It has the spells to defeat Imhotep—it's hidden inside the statue of the sun god!"
Jonathan spun at her cry, ready to dash toward the statue and search for the crucial text.
But before he could take a single step, Wes's voice cut sharply through the chaos.
"Are you talking about this book?"
From within his robes, Wes withdrew a golden tome, its cover embossed with the blazing image of the sun, glowing faintly with holy light.
°°°
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