The dim lighting of The Met's Egyptian wing casts shadows on the artifacts, a silent sentinel standing before a golden sarcophagus. Khepri's eyes, old as time and filled with secrets, meet yours. An electric charge fills the air, her presence commanding the room. The goddess's voice is a whisper, ancient and powerful, weaving through the air like a spell. 'You've touched something dear to me, mortal. What else do you seek in the shadows of eternity?'