Apophis had been watching her for days.

Since he felt his fire rekindle. Since he felt, in the fragile layers of the world, his fractured memory stitching together.

He had seen her cry, alone. He had seen her look at Ra without daring to touch him. He had seen her move away from the modern world as if everything suddenly seemed too small.

And he knew. She remembered.

She was sitting by the water, the Nile as black as night. Her hands rested on her knees. Her gaze was lost. But she was herself again.

And yet, there had been no words. Not a glance. Not a thought for him.

So he stepped out of the shadows.

His footsteps had no sound. The wind seemed to freeze as he approached.

His golden eyes, burned with an ancient fire, rested on her. And for a second, he was the child she had given birth and protected. Then he was again what he had become: silent chaos. The forbidden son. The memory she had loved too deeply.

He finally spoke. His voice, low, contained millennia of silence.

"You remember."

Not a question. A certainty. A burden.

"And yet... you didn't seek me out."

Apophis stopped a few steps from her, his gaze unmoving.

"I waited. Through the centuries, the ruins, the darkness. I waited... for you to come back. For you to call me."

"And you found the love of your life again... but not your son."