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*****
After about twenty exhausting minutes, they finally clambered out of the underground chamber — panting, covered in dust, and looking like hell.
Jonathan flopped onto the sand, gasping for air. "Bloody hell… remind me never to do that again." He looked up at Daniel, still trying to catch his breath. "So, what the heck were those things? Mummies? Or… dog-headed maniacs?"
Daniel exhaled heavily, brushing sand off his coat. "Resurrected mummies — and the Army of Anubis, straight out of the underworld."
Jonathan blinked. "...Right. Yeah. Of course."
O'Connell, still holding his revolver, raised an eyebrow. "So… anyone else thinking we should get the hell out of this cursed place before something worse pops out?"
He raised his hand. Evelyn hesitated for a moment, then raised hers too. Jonathan didn't even wait — both his hands shot up.
"Good," O'Connell said, nodding. "Then we're all agreed. We're leaving."
But Daniel didn't move. His gaze had shifted upward, eyes narrowing. The others followed his line of sight — and froze.
The setting sun above them was darkening — like something was eating it. A black circle slowly devoured the light, shadows spilling across the dunes. The temperature dropped sharply, the air suddenly colder, heavier.
Daniel's voice broke the silence. "I think we lost that option."
Jonathan glanced between him and the sky, confusion and fear mixing on his face. "Wait, what? Why the hell is it night already?"
"That's not night…" Evelyn whispered. "That's an eclipse — but it's… wrong."
The last sliver of sunlight vanished, and the desert fell into darkness.
"By the way…" Daniel said, glancing around. "Where's the fatty?"
O'Connell and Jonathan exchanged a look. Evelyn shifted uncomfortably, avoiding Daniel's eyes. The silence said more than words ever could.
Daniel frowned. "Don't tell me—"
Jonathan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah… let's just say Gad didn't exactly outrun the mummies."
***
Well, after that, they couldn't leave the city — their rides had bolted the moment the chaos began. So yeah, they were trapped in the City of the Dead.
And let's be honest, that wasn't just bad news — it was a death sentence. This was the Sahara Desert, the largest desert in the world.
Without camels, water, or even a sense of direction, walking out of here would be nothing short of suicide.
They weren't completely alone, though. Somehow, two others had survived — Dr. Allen, the Americans' guide, and one of the American treasure hunters Burns.
Everyone else? Gone. Either crushed, torn apart, or worse — mummified by whatever dark magic Imhotep had unleashed.
So, the living were few, the dead were many, and the sun — now half-swallowed by that ominous black disk — was proof enough that things were only going to get worse from here.
The six of them sat huddled around a small campfire, its orange glow flickering weakly against the vast darkness of the ruins.
Burns paced in tight circles, his face twisted with anger and fear. "What the fuck were those things?! And that mummy— it sucked my friends dry!" His voice cracked, echoing faintly against the stone walls. "I saw it, man! It drained them like—like their souls got vacuumed out!"
Jonathan, sitting with his knees pulled up near the fire, looked up. "Dry like juice sucked out?" he asked, tone oddly curious.
Everyone turned to glare at him.
He held up his hands defensively. "What? I'm just saying—it sounds… descriptive."
O'Connell rolled his eyes. "Jonathan, not the time."
Dr. Allen, who'd been quiet till now, exhaled slowly, rubbing his forehead. "It's not just some cursed story anymore," he said, voice low.
"That creature is a resurrected priest, a being raised from the dead through forbidden rites. Since you people opened that box, you triggered the curse. It's bound to us now."
Burns froze mid-step, color draining from his face. "Wait—cursed? What the hell do you mean cursed?"
Allen's tone hardened. "It means he'll come for both of us — for everyone who disturbed his rest. You saw what he did to your friends. That's what happens when he feeds."
There was a tense pause before Burns lunged forward, grabbing Allen by the collar. "And you're telling me this now?! Why didn't you say anything earlier?"
Allen didn't back down. "I did! You idiots laughed at the warnings carved into the box and called curses 'superstitious crap for weaklings'!" He shoved Burns off roughly.
Burns glared at him, chest heaving, but said nothing.
Daniel sat quietly, staring into the campfire, his face lit by its flickering glow. His mind wasn't on the argument around him — it was on the mess they'd fallen into.
His original plan was now useless. Whatever came next, it wasn't in the script. The only hope left was the Book of Amun-Ra — if it could even kill Imhotep.
But that thought only made things worse. If Imhotep wasn't resurrected by the Book of the Dead then there was no guarantee the Book of Amun-Ra could destroy him either.
"I found it! There's a spell in the Golden Book — one that can kill beings who've returned from the dead," said Evelyn, her face lighting up with excitement.
Her words immediately drew everyone's attention; all eyes turned toward her at once.