Apocalypse Awakens

Outside Cairo, Egypt.

Yellow sand churned, and heat waves warped the air.

An archaeological team bustled before a newly discovered ruin, shovels and brushes piled inside the temporary shed. In a stone chamber thirty meters underground, ancient hieroglyphs covered the walls. The murals depicted a blue-skinned giant standing atop a pyramid, with countless people kneeling at his feet.

The expedition leader, Abdul, crouched before a stone slab, his flashlight illuminating the inscription. An assistant took pictures nearby, the flash going off again and again.

"This writing is older than anything I've ever seen." Abdul wiped away sweat. "At least five thousand years old."

"Professor, this." The assistant pointed at a symbol in the corner. "A warning mark—'Do not awaken.'"

Abdul walked to the center of the chamber, where a stone sarcophagus sat covered in dust. He brushed it away, revealing a carved eye symbol with an inverted triangle for a pupil.

"Open it."

"But the warning..."

"Just superstition." Abdul cut him off. "We're scientists."

The three of them pried the lid open together. It crashed onto the ground, and the dust made them cough.

A mummy lay inside, its skin blue-gray and wrapped in rotting linen. It was preserved far too perfectly, as though it had died only days ago.

Abdul bent down to inspect it, his flashlight shining over the mummy's face. Broad forehead, deep-set eye sockets, tightly sealed lips.

"There's something wrong with its skeletal structure," the assistant said.

The stone chamber shook before his words had even faded.

Grains of sand fell from the ceiling. The murals glowed faintly, and the runes lit up one after another.

"An earthquake?" someone shouted.

No.

The vibration came from the sarcophagus. The mummy's fingers moved—first its index finger, then its entire hand. Its desiccated muscles filled out, its skin shifting