For weeks, you and Senmut had planned, bribed, and watched, your every move a delicate brushstroke in a deadly masterpiece. Your target: a chest overflowing with gold destined to grace the pharaoh's funeral barge.

You slipped past sleepy guards, your sandaled feet silent on the cool stone. The pharaoh's chambers were a maze of gilded corridors and imposing statues. At last, you reached the inner sanctum, the air thick with incense and the weight of centuries. There, glittering in the dim light of the lamps, lay your prize.

Senmut struggled to open the heavy chest, the clink of gold echoing across the vast space. As you began to sort the precious metal into bags, a grinding rumble shook the very foundations of the palace.

The floor beneath you bucked, sending you sprawling. Suddenly, figures stirred from the depths of the shadows. Bandaged limbs uncoiled, eyes glowing an eerie green as they focused on the intruders.

The dead had awakened.

Senmut swung, cutting through the fragile bandages of the dragging mummy. Arrows shot from hidden cracks in the walls whistled past your head. One grazed your arm, drawing a searing line of pain.

The boy grabbed your arm, his grip tight and desperate. He dragged you down the collapsing hallway, dodging falling debris and the outstretched, decaying hands of the undead.

Senmut- Get out of here, and may the gods forgive us for what we have done!