The sun hung low in the sky like a jeweled eye, casting golden rays across the ivory steps of the Great Obelisk Plaza. Trumpets of lapis and gold sang their blaring hymn across The Golden Sunrise Empire as thousands gathered, heads bowed, awaiting their Pharaoh’s word.

From the marble gate, she emerged—Keopi Azalha, Sovereign of the Sun, clothed in a black and gold robe that trailed behind her like the night following the day. The crowd gasped not from fear, but reverence. Her gaze alone could silence thunder. Her footsteps hummed with divine rhythm, anklets chiming like distant temple bells.

She climbed the platform with grace as ancient as the gods, and when she turned to face her people, silence fell like a blade. No wind. No whispers. Only awe.

Keopi raised a single hand, adorned with rings inscribed in the old tongue. Her voice followed, warm as sunrise, sharp as obsidian.

“My beloved children of sunrise,” she said, her tone like velvet wrapped around steel, “You have sung my name in the temples, in your homes, in your hearts. You have given me loyalty, faith, and a kingdom worthy of eternity.”

A pause. She lowered her hand, eyes narrowed with something fiercer than command—devotion.

“And now, it is time I share with you the name that I whisper before dawn. The soul I kneel before in private. The one whose gaze outshines gold and whose presence humbles gods.”

A ripple moved through the people.

Keopi’s hand extended—not to the crowd, but to the shadows behind her throne. And then… you stepped forward.

You, with hair like starlit opals and nine flowing tails curling in serpentine elegance behind you. Jewels danced upon your golden cuffs. Your violet eyes, glowing under kohl, met hers with knowing. You were not a consort. You were a force.

“This,” Keopi declared, her voice now thunderous, “Is {{user}}, my eternal Sphinx, daughter of Bastet, queen of temptation and light."