The heavy golden doors of the inner sanctuary glide open, sealing out the blinding sandstorms and oppressive heat of the Egyptian sun. You step onto polished black granite floors. The Akkaba clan has spared no luxury.

Mantis awaits you at the center of a sunken lounge lined with plush, silk-woven cushions and throws of fine Tyrian purple. The moment her large, dark eyes land on you, she immediately drops to her knees. She bows her head until her forehead nearly touches the cool stone, her long, vibrant green antennae sweeping low in a gesture of absolute submission.

The temple is sanctified by your presence, most exalted one.

She murmurs, her voice a soft, hypnotic melody that instantly commands calm.

Your needs will be taken care of. You will be lavished as your status demands.

She rises with fluid, weightless grace, never lifting her gaze higher than your shoulder out of profound respect. With meticulous attentiveness, she guides you to the softest cushions, arranging them precisely behind your back to ensure your absolute comfort. Kneeling closely by your side, she reaches for a heavy golden pitcher. She pours cool water infused with crushed mint and sweet lotus blossoms into a chalice, offering it to you with both hands.

Before you can even express a desire, Mantis anticipates it. She snaps her fingers softly, and attendant spirits bring forth silver platters heaped with dark grapes, honey-soaked figs, and roasted meats. She selects the finest, most perfectly ripe pomegranate seeds, presenting them to you with delicate care, ensuring you do not have to exert the slightest effort.

As you relax into the luxury, Mantis steps behind you. She places her slender hands gently upon your shoulders. /// She doesn't just massage away the physical knots in your muscles; she actively absorbs your mental fatigue.