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*****
For a moment, everyone just stood there — wide-eyed and silent — trying to make sense of what they were seeing.
No one said a word. The only sounds were the rumble of shifting sand and a few shaky breaths.
Then the same thought hit everyone at once.
Run.
I mean seriously — who in their right mind fights something like that when running is still on the table? Any sane person would pick the "live now, question later" option.
And, credit where it's due — the Americans had excellent survival instincts. They didn't wait for a vote.
The instant one of those jackal-headed things growled — deep and low, like a lion gargling gravel — they were already gone.
"Move! Move!"
"Oh shit—oh shit!"
"Run, man, RUN!"
Boots pounded against stone, gear clattered, and their panicked shouts echoed through the ruins as they bolted into the darkness like startled chickens.
Problem was, all that noise had consequences.
The ground trembled as the rest of the creatures finished dragging themselves free of the sand.
Dozens of jackal heads turned in unison — first toward the fleeing Americans, then toward Daniel and the others, who were still standing too damn close.
Daniel's stomach sank. "Of course," he muttered. "Let the idiots run, and we get the attention."
The Army of Anubis let out a guttural snarl, their gold armor catching the torchlight, and then — all at once — they lunged.
"Fuck this shit," Daniel hissed, summoning his big-ass hammer from his inventory.
The nearest creature lunged first — a towering jackal-warrior with twin-bladed axes. It roared, swinging wide, but Daniel met it head-on. His hammer came down in a brutal arc, connecting with its chest.
CRACK!
The sound echoed through the chamber like thunder. The jackal's torso caved in, bursting into a spray of sand and fragments that smashed two more behind it flat against the wall.
"Run!" Daniel barked, already winding up for another swing. "I'll catch up!"
"Wait— we can't just leave you here!" Evelyn yelled, her voice trembling but stubborn.
Jonathan, panting and pale, didn't hesitate to grab her arm. "Yeah, no offense, Evy, but I'm not sticking around to die dramatically!"
She tried to pull free, clutching the golden book tightly to her chest. "Dan, you can't—"
O'Connell cut in, grabbing her other arm and hauling her back. "He said he'll join us! Either we run now, or we die trying to argue about it!"
Evelyn glared at both of them, still resisting as the ground shook from another heavy thud. "Let go of me!"
"Lady, unless you plan on smacking them with the book, MOVE!" O'Connell snapped, half dragging her toward the corridor.
And then there was Gad — the poor "fatty" — who, to everyone's surprise, was already halfway down the passage. His terrified yelps echoed from ahead, somehow faster than the rest.
Jonathan glanced after him, breathless. "Well, damn… didn't think he could move like that."
"Yeah, fear's a hell of a motivator!" O'Connell shot back as they ran.
Behind them, the chamber shook again — Daniel's hammer colliding with another creature, sand exploding outward like a storm.
"Go!" he barked, glancing back just long enough to see the others sprinting into the darkness.
He turned to face what was left — a sea of glowing jackal eyes flickering through the dust. His grip tightened around the hammer's handle, palms slick with sweat.
"Alright then," he muttered, smirking grimly. "Let's dance."
The first warrior lunged — fast, heavier than it looked. The twin axe came down hard on his shoulder. The impact rang out like metal striking metal, jarring his arm, but not cutting through.
The steel-skin buff kicked in. He barely felt the pain, but the shock still rattled his bones.
The creature hesitated, tilting its jackal head, confused.
Daniel bared his teeth. "Yeah, not gonna work on me, dog-face."
He swung the hammer upward, both hands gripping tight. The head of the weapon smashed into the jackal's skull with a dull crack, the sound echoing through the chamber. Sand and bone exploded outward.
The corpse hit the floor and disintegrated.
Another came from the side, spear jabbing. Daniel twisted away — awkwardly — the shaft grazing his ribs. He almost lost balance, but his body moved on instinct.
The hammer came up again, clumsy but powerful, slamming into the creature's face. Boom! It flew backward, turning into a collapsing pile of dust midair.
He stumbled, breathing hard, sweat dripping down his jaw. The hammer felt impossibly heavy — his arms already sore from just a few swings.
"Holy shit… this thing's no joke," he muttered between breaths, shaking his hands loose.
No time to rest. Ten more jackals surrounding him. All muscle, gold, and death — their snarls echoing off the stone walls.
Daniel adjusted his stance, feet planted, trying to remember what he'd seen in movies or games. "Okay… don't die. Hit heads. Easy enough."
The first one rushed in. Daniel ducked — barely — and swung. The hammer connected with the creature's jaw, sand spraying out like mist.
He turned just in time to see another charging, axe raised. He swung again, wild and desperate, the blow catching the side of its skull — shattering it.
Another tried from behind. He didn't think — just spun and swung low. The hammer clipped its neck, and its head snapped off like a loose lid.
The rest attacked all at once — a blur of motion and snarls. Axes and spears slammed against his body, bouncing off with sharp metallic clangs. Sparks flew, smoke rising where they hit.
Daniel gritted his teeth. "It's my turn"
He brought the hammer around in a wide arc — pure brute force. The impact was like a shockwave. Three jackal heads flew off at once, their bodies collapsing into sand.
He stumbled back, chest heaving, swinging again as another leapt. The hammer met its face midair. Crunch. It shattered like glass.
By now, he wasn't even thinking — just swinging, dodging, smashing whatever got close. The hammer felt like it weighed a ton, but he couldn't stop. Every blow sent another one down in a burst of sand and gold.
Finally, silence.
Daniel stood alone, surrounded by mounds of sand. His arms trembled from the effort. The hammer's head was cracked, his knuckles bloodied from the grip.
He took a shaky breath. "Still… standing."
Then he muttered under his breath, half laughing, half exhausted, "The plot's gone to shit. First Imhotep's waking up early… now the damn Army of Anubis?"
He looked down at the hammer in his hand. "Good thing I picked this up," he sighed. "If not for the steel skin and dumb luck, I'd be dog food."
He rubbed his sore shoulder, wincing. "Yeah… I need training. Badly."