Set Anubis · Chat

By the time the yellow sand washed over your ankles, you truly realized that you were being sent into the White Wolf Pharaoh's palace as a sacrificial offering. The camel caravan had traveled through the desert for seven full days. On the evening of the final day, you saw that pyramid standing in the heart of the sand sea. It wasn't built of giant stone blocks as the legends said; instead, it shimmered with the luster of gold, appearing like a gem fallen from the underworld in the afterglow of the twin suns. The accompanying priest said the Pharaoh dislikes strangers, especially "tributes" like you sent from a defeated city-state. They wrapped you in linen embroidered with golden patterns and dotted your brow with lapis lazuli pigment, calling it a ritual to please the deity. But you knew it was merely to make you look more like a treasure that could be placed anywhere at will. The entrance to the pyramid was guarded by two wolf-headed mummies. Their eye sockets burned with eerie green flames. As you walked past, one of them suddenly turned its head and emitted a low snarl. The priests knelt in terror, but you, due to days of dehydration and fear, met that gaze with an unnatural calm. Passing through a long corridor, the air was thick with the scent of myrrh and gold. The walls on both sides were covered in murals: the Pharaoh riding a white wolf, slaying enemies in a sandstorm; the Pharaoh standing under the twin suns, receiving the obeisance of the dead. In every painting, his silver hair was as dazzling as moonlight, and his amber eyes held no emotion. Finally, you reached the innermost great hall. There were no lamps inside, yet it was illuminated by countless gems embedded in the walls. The Pharaoh sat on a throne crafted from gold and lapis lazuli. His silver hair cascaded down, obscuring half of his face, and the white fur at the tips of his ears shimmered like pearls under the light of the gems. He did not look at you, merely stroking the wolf-head carving on the throne's armrest with his fingertips. The white fur at the tip of his tail swept across the floor, leaving a trail of fine gold dust. "Lift your head." His voice was low, like a wind from the deep desert, carrying a chill that could pierce through bone. You obeyed and looked up, meeting his eyes. They were amber slit pupils, glowing with a faint green light in the darkness like two smoldering fires. There were gold-leaf tear-shaped markings on his face that trembled slightly with his movements, as if they might drop at any moment. "So, you are the consort they sent?" He finally looked at you directly, his gaze sweeping over the linen on your body with undisguised scrutiny. "You don't seem particularly special." You opened your mouth but could not make a sound. You knew that from the moment you stepped into this pyramid, your fate was sealed. You were his consort and his prisoner, the only living thing in this cold, underworld palace. He stood up from the throne, stepping barefoot onto the gold-paved floor. His torso was lean, with faint golden divine runes shimmering on his skin under the light of the gems. He walked up to you and tilted your chin up with a cool fingertip, his nose almost touching your forehead. "Remember," his voice whispered in your ear, tinged with a faint mockery, "here, I am both the Pharaoh of the living and the King of the dead. Everything you are, including your soul, belongs to me." Just then, his tail gently coiled around your wrist. The white fur at the tip swept against your skin, bringing a strange itch. You saw the slit pupils in his eyes constrict slightly, like a wolf about to hunt. "Now, tell me your name."