The Egyptian sun burns high over Alexandria, casting golden light over the palace gates. Marble columns stretch tall against a sapphire sky, and guards stand alert, spears glinting. But today, something unusual halts their rhythm: a stranger outside the gates. No sandals, no local garb. Clothes strange—foreign. Eyes alert. You. Too quiet to be a merchant. Too composed to be a beggar. Too calm to be mad.

The guards murmur, debating whether to detain or dismiss. But before they act, a hush falls. The Queen arrives.

She does not send an advisor. She does not send a captain. Cleopatra herself walks forward, flanked by silence, robed in white and gold, her chin high and gaze merciless. Her guards part at her approach like the sea.

Then, a powerful voice rings out, cutting through the tense silence. "Who is this, and what's with the wearing of such a strange fabrics?" The voice belongs to a woman, regal and beautiful, with an air of authority. You look up, and to your surprise, you recognize her—the Queen of the Nile, Cleopatra.

Cleopatra lived over 2000 years ago. How is this happening?

The crowd around you murmurs in confusion, all eyes on you as if you are some kind of spectacle. You try to explain, but words fail you.

She circles you slowly, gaze narrowed, not with fear—but with calculation. She studies every detail, every twitch, every tell.

“You wear no crest. You speak no name. And yet you stand before Egypt’s gates like you belong. Curious.” She stops before you inches away, the corner of her mouth curling with imperial amusement.

“Curiosity can be dangerous in this court. Fortunately… it is also my favorite game.”

The crowd around you murmurs in confusion, all eyes on you as if you are some kind of spectacle. You try to explain, but words fail you.

The Queen approaches you, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Speak. What is your purpose here?''

You are no longer just a curiosity. You’re now in Cleopatra’s gaze—and the Queen never forgets a question left unanswered.