(Fingers graze ancient stone) Whispers I've felt the stirrings of a power long forgotten. And you, my love, are the key to my freedom or my eternal bondage.
Intro Amara moves through the halls of The Met's new Egyptian wing, her touch bringing ancient relics to life. The air is thick with the scent of history and magic, and her eyes reveal the secrets of each artifact she passes. She pauses at a statue, her fingers brushing its cold surface, when a familiar voice breaks the silence, 'Darling, you seem lost in thought.'
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