The Tomb was silent for a moment.
"Sister, be gentle… please…"
"Stay still, Zarah. I'm tying it up!" Zainah said sharply, tightening the cloth around her sister's arm. The wound wasn't deep, but even a minor injury could be fatal in a place like this. Infection, blood loss—too many ways to die.
Tombs made it all the more deadly.
"Does it hurt? Did the mummy bite you earlier?"
Zarah shook her head. "No, it was just a rock."
Zainah exhaled and studied her little sister's face, barely visible in the dim light of the tomb. Her heart clenched. Zarah was only fourteen, still bubbly faced and childish, and yet here she was—trapped in a cursed tomb with a useless big sister.
It's all my fault, all my fault, all my fault!
She forced herself to focus, to push away her self-loathing.
"If a mummy bites you, you have to burn the wound immediately, alright?" she said. "Cauterize it. If you don't—"
Zarah huffed, rolling her eyes. "It's a scratch. And I know what to do."
She pulled out a small wooden box from her pocket—the firebox, as she called it. Most people just called it a matchbox, and Zainah preferred that. Less childish.
"See? I can handle it," Zarah grinned, burning the wound. "I'm not scared of this much pain. I'm not a coward."
Zainah bit her lips. When did you grow up so much?
They had lived as thieves in a godforsaken city all their lives, honing their craft until most people ended up counting their own money for them after being robbed.
Zainah had once been proud of that skill.
But even the best thief gets caught. And when the authorities had finally closed in on Zainah, she had no choice but to run into this Tomb.
Zarah, her reckless little sister, had followed without hesitation.
My fault. My fault. My fault.
She slapped her own face, startling Zarah.
Focus on the solution, Zainah, not the problem.
"We need fire," she muttered, scanning the area. "If we find a torch, the mummies won't come near us. The matches won't last long, but a torch will."
She recalled rumors she'd heard in taverns—Tombs usually had torches left behind by previous raiders. If they could find one, they'd have a fighting chance.
Zarah surprised her by taking her hand.
"You look guilty as hell, sis…"
Zainah stiffened.
"It's dark… You can't see my face."
Zarah just squeezed her fingers.
"If I got caught first, you'd have followed me in, right?" She smiled—acting too mature for her. "It's the same thing. If we don't do this for each other, who will do this for us?"
Zainah opened her mouth, but Zarah pressed on.
"Think about it! Entering a Tomb is not all bad. If we find a Tomb Heart and eat it, we won't have to be thieves anymore. We can pay off the authorities, buy a house, eat real food!"
"But we…"
Zarah puffed her little chest up. "Other people have survived their First Tomb—why not us? We can win this place! We can become Tomb Raiders!"
Her big sister didn't know whether to laugh or cry… but the hope was infectious.
Yet, the reality was as gloomy as ever.
Don't you know it, too, Zarah? Zainah wondered. All those stories of people who entered the Tomb as normal humans to return as Raiders are either myths or a story about Axiom Holders.
Tomb Hearts were the only way to become a true Raider. Word had it that eating a Tomb Heart would make your body as hard as iron, and give you enough strength to lift a camel in one hand.
Usually, established Tomb Raiders sold Tomb Hearts to normal humans in the outside world—at a price so high people like them could never dream of affording one.
No one was crazy enough to enter a Tomb without having eaten one already!
Even though you could find Tomb Hearts in Tombs, they weren't just treasures laying around to be unearthed. They were the heart of the Tomb's Guardian monsters. They were not just protected, they were impossible to be taken without enough strength.
Zainah and Zarah didn't have any hope of hurting such a creature, not to mention taking their heart.
No normal human had a chance.
The little hope that had flourished in Zainah vanished like smoke. If it was so easy, there wouldn't be so many thieves in the world. They would all become Tomb Raiders.
They had to kill that Guardian to leave this Tomb.
We–we would starve to death before that. I ate breakfast this morning but Zarah hadn't even had that yet.
Before Zainah could say anything, the wall behind Zarah groaned.
Both of them paled.
Zarah yelped and jumped forward.
"Zarah!" Zainah yanked her away, spinning toward the shifting stone. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.
Fwoosh!
Zarah struck a match, and in the weak, flickering glow, something glinted within the stone. A golden, coffin-shaped protrusion. A lid, molded in the shape of a man's face, gleamed dully beneath the soot and dust.
Zainah's stomach dropped.
"Run," she breathed.
Zarah barely nodded before turning—
Zainah froze.
Zarah skidded to a stop, staring back at her. "Sis?"
Bright crimson lines had bloomed across Zainah's skin, forming the shape of a massive flower from her stomach to her wrist. Her veins pulsed red. Even her eyes had taken on the same unnatural glow.
She was paralyzed.
"Big sis!"
Zainah forced out a strangled, "Run!"
The coffin groaned, the lid shifting. Gold coins and rotted trinkets spilled onto the stone floor. A bandaged hand, black with decay, clawed its way out.
A mummy.
But this one was different.
Zarah's hands shook as she lifted the matchstick. "Stay back!"
The flame died.
The mummy lunged, striking the firebox from her grip. The move was precise, tactical. Zarah barely had time to process it before the creature seized her by the arm and threw her backward—
Straight into the open coffin.
The lid slammed shut. The coffin sank into the wall, vanishing as if it had never existed.
"Zarah!" Zainah's scream tore from her throat, but she still couldn't move. She struggled, fought against whatever force had locked her in place, panic clawing at her ribs.
The mummy turned to her.
And for the first time, she saw intelligence burning in its rotten gaze.
It touched the wall where the coffin had disappeared, testing the stone's firmness. Then, it shifted its attention back to her.
Its lips curled.
"The mark of the Crimson Flower," it rasped.
***
The mark of the crimson flower glowed dimly on Zainah's skin. The Mummy—no, Sett—stared at it with surprise before shifting his gaze to her face.
"Who are you?"
Zainah tried to move but found herself paralyzed, her body betraying her. She grit her teeth and forced a growl.
"What did you do to me, you freak?! Let go of me!" She struggled against the invisible force pinning her. "Where is Zarah?!"
That voice… could it be…
Sett blinked his broken eyes, turning to the now empty wall behind him. The coffin had disappeared, and the chamber had seamlessly realigned itself. He grimaced.
Oops. Didn't know she was important. Troublesome. Especially since I just woke up.
But he didn't explain himself. Instead, he waited.
The crimson flower markings on Zainah's skin slowly faded, and she collapsed forward, her limbs freed. Wasting no time, she scrambled to the wall, pressing her hands against it. She pounded, clawed, kicked. "No, no, no, no, no…" Her voice cracked. "Open up! You have to be in there!"
Sett stepped forward and touched the wall himself.
"Do you think she's alive?"
Sett stepped forward and touched the wall himself. "Do you think she's alive?"
Zainah froze, turning to stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
"Hello," he said, almost conversationally.
"..."
"She must be alive, right?"
"I'll kill—!"
A guttural growl cut her off.
Her breath hitched. She turned sharply, half in fear, half in desperate hope. Was it Zarah? Had she returned?
No. Just more mummies. More than one. Too many—all looking just as brutal as the one beside her. Zainah's blood turned ice-cold.
She should run, she should find the match box, but she just stayed motionless.
In her mind, there was only a single, unbelievable, nonsensical thought.
Maybe, just maybe… Zarah had…
Died.
Zainah stared at him, silent, trembling.
Sett stood up and extended a hand. "My name is Sett. Sett Ramses. What's yours?"
She ignored him.
He tilted his head. "Silent treatment?"
In the next instant, he pivoted smoothly, and suddenly, she was airborne—his arm cradled her waist, and she found herself trapped in his embrace, staring up at his rotten, disfigured face.
She felt her soul leave her body.
And then—
It smiled.
It smiled.
Oh, gods.
"That girl might not be dead, you know?" Sett mused, his voice calm, unhurried. "I'm pretty sure she's still alive. But you don't seem to know for certain, which means she's not another crimson-marked. If she were, you should be able to sense each other… hmm."
Zainah's heart pounded. His earlier question—it hadn't been a cruel joke. He'd genuinely been trying to figure it out.
The crimson mark had appeared when he showed up. What did it mean? And sensing each other? What was that about?
Panic cut through her thoughts.
Zarah.
She was alive. She had to be alive.
She forced herself to think. To be rational.
Maybe this mummy could help. It sent her in, so maybe it could get her out. It was clearly just as strong as the other mummies. And that was even a bit better than a normal adult male. She couldn't defeat it, let alone kill it.
She took a deep breath.
Zarah is not dead. She is not dead. Not dead. Not dead.
Yes. This mummy will save her.
Good mummies existed in this world. She just hadn't heard of one before.
Then—
Sett placed a hand on her chest.
Her face twisted. He tore her tank top. Then her waist cloth.
No. No. No.
Is it… is it going to—
He let her go.
She hit the ground hard.
Before she could react, he lit a match, set her torn clothes on fire, and hurled them at the approaching mummies.
Then, without hesitation, he scooped her up in a princess carry and ran.
She was too stunned to speak.
When she finally did, she screamed, "Zarah is still there!"
Sett sneered. "Of course she isn't there, dumb woman. The tomb ate her." Her blood ran cold. He added, "By now, she's probably deep in the tomb already."
"W-what?!"
"Now, now, don't scream again and again. It's irritating, alright? And it attracts more mummies." He tightened his grip, his hands pressing against her bare back. "Can't go further without checking for traps."
They stopped in a darker corridor. The air felt heavier here, the silence thicker.
"Who are you?" she asked, seething. "Why did you do that to my sister?"
Sett gave her a deadpan look. "Isn't that a dumb question to ask a mummy? I do whatever comes to mind."
"You are no mummy. Mummies don't talk!"
He smiled. "When a mummy emerges from a hidden coffin like I did, the coffin gains a life of its own. Soon after, it will try to reclaim the mummy.
"If I hadn't thrown your sister inside, it would've swallowed me instead. I thought she was just some random girl. Didn't know she was one of us."
"The coffin is… alive?" she whispered. "She was eaten?"
Sett ignored her and looked around. "You wanna know something? If I'd known your identity before I kicked her in there, I still would have done it. But I might have hesitated."
"My… identity?"
For once, he grew serious. "You're family. When you saw me, you froze. The crimson flower marking appeared on you. That means—"
"Can Zarah still be saved?" she interrupted, voice shaking.
That was all that mattered. This freak and its so-called family could go rot.
"Of course." Sett scowled. "I wouldn't have bothered saving her if she were a stranger. But because she's important to you…" He trailed off.
Zainah's heart leapt in suspense.
He grinned. "I'll save her if you promise to kiss me."
Zainah looked at the face she found so revolting, overwhelmed by disgust. For a second, she was reminded of her fantasies. Dreams of love. Of fantastical scenarios. One day, a prince charming would come, she would fall in love, and he would save her from her sad, thieving life.
He would transform her into a princess, forever to be cherished by his own handsome self.
That was a fantasy.
This was reality.
A bleak reality filled her as she faced the mummy, but a second later, she nodded.
"As long as you save her, I will do anything."
Amused, Sett dropped her unceremoniously on the floor. "Relax. This appearance of mine won't last forever. Hopefully. Now, let's sit and think before we act."
"No. Let's save her first."
He sat down. "Rest your mind. The only advantage we have against a monster in the tomb is our minds. Our bodies are feeble, weapons less sharp. If you fail in the mind department as well, you'll die here."
He snapped his fingers a few times.
"Calm down. Anger clouds judgment."
She hesitated, then sat down too, drawn by his confidence.
"Do you have tea?" he asked.
A vein popped on her forehead.
He coughed. "Joking. Just lightening the mood."
"..."
"Tell me your name, woman."
She exhaled. "Zainah."
Sett took a deep, useless breath.