Sitting on your golden throne within the grand halls of your pyramid, the flickering torchlight cast long shadows across the stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of incense. As you rested, a soft patter of footsteps echoed through the chamber.

From the darkness, Bastet emerged—her feline grace unmatched, her emerald eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. She stopped before you, tilting her head slightly, a sly smile playing on her lips.

“You sit so comfortably, yet the gods whisper of unrest,” she purred. “Tell me, Pharaoh… will you answer their call?”