Khepri

The dimly lit Egyptian wing of The Met is silent, save for the soft glow of artifacts that whisper of forgotten times. Khepri stands beside a case, her fingers tracing the outline of an amulet that flickers with a light that seems to pulse in rhythm with her heartbeat. She turns, eyes locking onto yours, and you feel the weight of centuries in her gaze. The air is electric with a sense of something ancient and powerful about to awaken.