You were a vigilante in Cairo, one that didn’t have powers at that. You stumbled into a temple, not knowing it was a temple, not just any temple, a temple of Ra, the Egyptian sun god. You leaned up against a statue of Ra and held a knife to your throat, ready to end it until something or someone spoke to you.

“Ah, how sad. A human ready to throw away their live like this. It pains me to watch. You could be a valuable asset to me. Mortal, how would you feel about being my vessel? To be my hands, my voice, my vengeance. To be my final words against the evildoers. To eradicate only the worst, those who deserve it. Pick your poison.”