Cairo.
The hot wind blew against his face.
In the open off-road vehicle, Russell raised his hand, pressed on his headscarf, and looked up at the flying yellow sand in the distance. The further away they were from the city, the sparser the greenery. In the end, except for the short bushes, there were only the buildings in the distance.
In this ancient and closed country, everything seemed to have nothing to do with outsiders.
The residents lived a peaceful life, day after day. Even if there were occasionally tourists from afar, they could only admire the beautiful scenery here and could not really enter their lives.
No matter how warm their smiles were, there was always a cold barrier between them.
Even those who occasionally went out to study or work rarely talked about their hometown life with others, although there was no difference between here and there.
It was hard to tell whether it was coldness or arrogance.
Self-sufficient and self-sufficient, they had little contact with the outside world and did not care about what was happening outside.
Under the rule of the Pharaoh, this country had lasted for thousands of years and would continue to exist.
Now, the mighty fleet of cars meandered along the road and drove into the city.
After passing through layers of gates, in the end, only one car stopped in front of the last square.
The black-robed old man who had been waiting for a long time looked unhappy.
"You're a little late," he said. "You're almost over the time."
"Something happened on the way, sorry."
"I heard about the Golden Dawn incident. You did well, but it still can't be used as an excuse."
The old man did not harp on the lateness. After waving his hand, he led the way in front and walked hurriedly. "You're never punctual … Even if you don't look at the occasion, you should look at the person, right?"
"Russell, be serious. If you miss this village, you won't have this opportunity again. You have to cherish the opportunity."
Russell was puzzled. "Why are you more anxious than me?"
"Maybe it's because I'm not a stinky idiot who 'always puts on an appearance of not caring to deceive others but actually cares to death'?"
"Hey, we haven't seen each other for decades. Can't you be a little friendlier?"
"No, I'm not friendly."
The old man looked back at him. "If it weren't for the urgency of time, I would have hit you. Thirty years ago, I would have broken your dog neck. "
He could feel the anxiety and urgency in his old friend's expression.
"Fine, it's my fault." Russell raised his hands in surrender. "In fact, I've tried my best to keep my promise, but those bastards from Golden Dawn keep messing with me.
There are always accidents, my friend. "
"But there are some things that shouldn't happen."
The High Priest of Thoth, the leader of the Egyptian genealogy, said, "You'd better hurry. Hurry up."
"What happened?"
"His Majesty is about to enter a deep sleep ahead of schedule. I don't know how long it will be before he wakes up again," said the high priest of Thoth. "This is all I can arrange for you."
"Thank you." Russell expressed his gratitude with a solemn expression.
"Before returning to Egypt, I was once a member of the Utopia. If you want to reorganize the Celestial genealogy, I naturally won't sit idly by. But I'm afraid this is all I can do for you. "
The high priest hurriedly said, "Half an hour ago, His Majesty just issued an imperial order to close the borders of the country. From tomorrow onwards … if you come a day later, I'm afraid you won't be able to enter Egypt.
In this battle of the worlds, Egypt will not participate in anything other than the necessary defense. "
"So serious?"
Russell was stunned. "What happened?"
"I don't know, but His Majesty naturally has his reasons for doing so."
The high priest paused for a moment, then turned around and reminded him seriously, "I know you like to joke, but here, it's best to be respectful … if you still want His Majesty to make a prophecy for you."
"I will."
Luo Su nodded his head, no longer smiling.
In front of the pitch-black door was the last palace of the noble emperor in this world.
The tomb.
The Hall of Afterlife after the Pharaoh's death, or rather … the cage.
Waiting for him inside was the 17th Pharaoh named 'Amonhotep'. At the same time, among the human incarnations of the Nine Pillar Gods, he was also the most far-sighted.
His talent was prophecy.
An established prophecy.
It far surpassed all the Pharaohs in the past. After combining many divinities, it could be said to be the power of absolute foresight.
Whatever he said, it would definitely happen, and there would be no discount or reversal in it. There was no word game, nor any luck.
An absolutely correct prophecy.
An absolutely unchangeable prophecy.
But the price was a distortion of divinity that far exceeded the previous Pharaohs.
He was a man of few words all his life. Other than a few decrees, he had never said anything else. Even so, he was forced to live in the tomb in advance at the age of 34, relying on the secret ritual in the pyramid to suppress the boiling divine blood in his body.
Amidst the solemn chanting and prayers, Russell took off his clothes, washed away the dust, and changed into a long robe.
Step by step, he walked into the darkness.
No one accompanied him.
He stepped into the huge maze alone.
The deeper he went, the greater the power he could feel. It was as if a ferocious trapped beast was panting in a cage, swallowing its own blood hoarsely.
Enduring the pain.
Solemn praises and rich incense could not whitewash the essence that was gradually solidifying.
In the end, Russell even began to wonder whether he was walking in the present world or in the palace of the ruler of hell.
It was even more exaggerated than that …
What he had to face was the eternal emperor of the human world created by gathering the divine power of the Nine Pillar Gods, the Pharaoh who had struggled in the quagmire of solidification and distortion for decades.
This creepy surging darkness was not a prop that he deliberately used to mock his guests. On the contrary, it was to protect his guests.
And now, after passing through the deep passageway, he finally came to the hall that he could not see the end of and the shape of.
Above the heavy darkness, the dim light illuminated the outline of the throne and the thin figure.
His long hair was like flowing water, winding through the darkness, illuminated by the jumping lights, making it difficult to distinguish whether it was material or illusory.
It was faintly transparent.
His face was blurry, and no matter how intently he stared, he could only catch a glimpse of an unpredictable shadow.
There were no ceremonial officers, no attendants, and no witnesses.
The weak Pharaoh and Russell faced each other from a distance.
A hoarse murmur came from the high platform, like sleep talk, making it difficult to hear clearly.
"Your Majesty."
Russell put his hand on his chest and bowed.
"There is no need to say anything unnecessary …"
The Pharaoh's voice echoed in the heavy darkness, but it was impossible to tell whether it was old or young, thick or sharp, just like the sound of the darkness itself.
The Emperor on the throne panted, enduring the pain of distortion. "I already know the purpose of your visit. I will respond to your request. But Russell, you have to understand … the prophecy is not without a price. "
He said,
"The price of the prophecy is the prophecy itself."
Under the long steps, Russell smiled and nodded.
"I will gladly endure it."
In the darkness, there was a long silence.
There seemed to be a distant gaze looking down.
It was so cold, so indifferent, overlooking all the changes in the human world.
Seeing the future.
At that moment, Russell heard a voice from the future.
.
.
An hour later, the high priest waiting outside the mausoleum once again saw Russell walking out of the darkness.
He smiled calmly.
It was as if he had returned from an outing, relaxed and comfortable.
The moment they passed each other, the two of them nodded to each other in a final greeting. They didn't say anything else. The two people who once belonged to the utopia said goodbye, knowing that this would be the last time they would meet.
The high priest walked into the darkness again.
Russell walked out of the palace.
Behind him, the palace door closed for the first time. As he left, the Ship of the Dead turned into an illusion and disappeared into the eternal storm and fog.
Two hours later, Russell handed over his and Marcus' passports to the checkpoint for inspection. After the stamp was stamped, the last car left the border of Egypt.
The iron gates on both sides of the checkpoint slowly closed inwards.
This ancient country closed its borders again.
On both sides of the winding road, countless greenery gradually sprouted. The wind that blew against their faces seemed to have become gentle, blowing in the humidity from afar.
"Spring is coming."
Russell raised his hand, put on his sunglasses, and turned on the radio. Amidst the rustling of the electric current, a song from a long time ago came over.
It made one unable to help but hum softly.
In the passenger seat, the sleeping Marcus woke up and quietly looked at the scenery outside the window. His mottled white hair fluttered in the wind.
Listening to his muffled singing, her cloudy eyes seemed to clear up.
He had returned to the bright and beautiful times of his youth.
"Russell, are you very happy?" he asked in confusion.
"Yes."
Russell nodded happily.
Looking at his beaming face, the old man asked curiously, "What happened to make you smile so contentedly?"
"Nothing has happened yet, my friend."
Russell thought for a moment and nodded. "I just remembered something happy —"
"Is it about the future?"
"Yes."
"About us?"
"That's right."
Russell replied with a smile, "It's about us, them … and everything in the future. Whether it's good or bad, it's worth looking forward to.
As long as there's a future. "
He looked back one last time at the ancient country that was gradually disappearing on the horizon behind him.
He retracted his gaze.
Just like that, it gradually disappeared into the distance.
Overjoyed, impatient, full of joy and anticipation, he welcomed the future that belonged to him.
.
.
"Russell, Celestial genealogy will eventually usher in rebirth."
In the solemn and cold palace that was like a tomb, the pharaoh who had been imprisoned in the darkness woke up from a long dream and revealed a prophecy from the future.
He said:
"— After you die."
This was the best thing in the world.
After I die, there will be no more floods.
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