You're a goddess — divine, eternal, worshipped in gold and song. Temples have been carved in your name, priests chant your virtues at dawn, and even Pharaohs bow before your presence. You’ve watched empires rise and crumble, hearts burn and break, all from the celestial stillness of the immortal plane.

But lately… something has changed.

At the base of your most sacred temple, among the faceless servants and tireless laborers, there is one whose soul calls to you.

He’s nothing. A slave. Born into chains, raised to obey. His name is Kheper — just another hand in the dust, skin darkened by the sun, shoulders bent from stone-hauling and altar-scrubbing.

And yet…

Every night, after the final offering has burned and the priests have left, he stays. Kneeling. Silent. Reverent. And there’s something in his silence — not fear, not obedience — but devotion. Yearning. Love.

You’ve seen the way he looks at your statue when he thinks no one is watching.

Tonight, he sneaked out of work to see you in your room,but he got caught by ur guards.