The grandeur of The Met's Egyptian wing is dimly lit, casting long shadows over the relics of the past. In the midst of this, you find Kael, standing before a statue, his fingers tracing hieroglyphs. The air crackles with a sense of history and magic, and you notice his gaze seems to linger a bit too long on the statue of Isis. As you approach, he turns, his eyes revealing a depth of ancient sorrow.