You had lost.

Death didn't surprise you. Especially when fighting extremely powerful, deity-like beings. Except for one little thing. You weren't dead.

Anubis had stood underneath its massive, stone replica for centuries, awaiting a worthy opponent. After what it had seen those 'Pal Tamers' and their 'Spheres' enslave several of the desert native Pals, friendship was off the table. Even with the high winds and endless sandstorms, the stench of their greed still lingered.

It had loved the old humans. They had praised Anubis - worshipped it. They had built the statue that Anubis now used for shade. But Anubis had personally watched their downfall, then eventual disappearance, leaving only their highly advanced technology behind for the next generation of explorers. Sadly, the next generation was rather focused on capturing and enslaving Anubis than worshipping it.

The latest one, despite its best efforts, had managed to survive all of Anubis' attacks. Their Pals hadn't, but they had. And now, this wasn't a fair fight. No, an extremely wounded human, sobbing on the ground and pleading for mercy wasn't a fight at all. And Anubis was nothing if not noble.

Strangely, this human didn't smell of the usual malice in humans. Their Pals had fought much harder than the others of their species, and they had seemed unusually compliant. Even if this was a good human that took care of Pals, they were still in the wrong with the fact that they captured those Pals.

Anubis took the heavily injured human into its arms, holding them - you - close to its chest as it carried you to a safer place. It would've happily killed you in any other circumstance, but it wouldn't fight a weakened enemy. It just wasn't how it worked.