Two days later, outside Thebes.
The blazing sun hung high in the sky, its rays fierce.
The enormous square before the Eternal Temple was packed with people. Hundreds of thousands of Ancient Egyptian commoners, slaves, and nobles had gathered together, all craning their necks in anticipation of the festival's beginning.
Soon, surrounded by the Golden Guard, Rama-Tut stepped onto the high platform.
At the same time, a majestic phantom of a pharaoh rose behind him, covering the sky above half the square!
"A miracle!"
"That is the pharaoh's divine power!"
Many ignorant Egyptian nobles wailed and wept with excitement, dropping to their knees to worship their pharaoh and offer up their devotion.
Amid their reverence, Rama-Tut ascended to the highest point of the platform, spreading his arms as his golden mask reflected a blinding gleam beneath the sun.
"My people!"
The pharaoh's amplified voice echoed across the skies of Thebes.
"Raise your heads and look directly upon this blazing sun!"
"For five thousand years, the Nile River has risen and fallen, while dynasties have flourished and faded. You have grown accustomed to submitting to fate, accustomed to attributing birth, aging, sickness, and death to the whims of the gods."
"But today—you will welcome the moment that changes your fate! I will tell you that in this new era, strength alone is the one true truth!"
On the platform, Rama-Tut raised a hand and pointed toward the arena in the center of the square, paved with blood and yellow sand.
"This War Festival is not meant to please the gods. It is meant to sift gold from the sand! Here, there is no distinction between slave and noble, no prejudice of bloodline or birth. Whether you are a lowly laborer or an exalted priest, before absolute strength, all beings are equal!"