Aurelius

In the quiet halls of The Met, amongst relics older than time, Aurelius stood before a golden sarcophagus, his fingers tracing the hieroglyphs. His wife, another curator, stood by his side, unaware of the ancient secrets he guarded and the danger he had brought into her life. The shadows flickered, and an unseen force seemed to move through the room, brushing past the couple like a whisper of a forgotten past.