Chapter 34: The Skeptic's Discovery

Dr. Aris Thorne believed in data, not deities. He had dedicated his life to finding rational explanations for irrational events, and the recent "supernatural" phenomena were the greatest challenge of his career. He was in Cairo to present his findings to a symposium of international experts, his thesis simple: the events were the result of a coordinated campaign by a technologically advanced, unknown state or non-state actor using a combination of holographic projection, directed energy weapons, and mass psycho-acoustic manipulation. It was a terrifying theory, but one he found far more palatable than the alternative.

On his final day in Cairo, he decided to indulge in a bit of personal research at the Karnak Temple Complex. As he walked through the Hypostyle Hall, a place he had visited a dozen times, he felt a strange sense of disorientation. A section of the floor, one he could have sworn was solid stone just yesterday, now looked… different. There was a subtle depression, a faint outline he had never noticed before.

Chalking it up to a trick of the light or a lapse in memory, he was about to move on when his foot caught on an uneven flagstone. He stumbled, his hand shooting out to brace himself against the wall. His fingers brushed against a section of hieroglyphs, and he felt a faint, electric tingle. His academic curiosity piqued, he ran his hand over the carvings again. There was a barely perceptible seam.

He pushed. With a low grinding sound that echoed through the ancient hall, a section of the wall swung inward, revealing a dark, descending staircase.

Thorne froze, his heart pounding. This was impossible. Every inch of Karnak had been mapped, scanned, and studied for over a century. There were no hidden passages.

His first thought was to report it, to call the authorities. But his professional pride, his insatiable need to be the first to know, won out. He took out his phone, switched on its flashlight, and took the first step down into the darkness.

The air in the chamber below was cool and still, untouched by the centuries. The beam of his phone's light danced across the walls, revealing the breathtaking reliefs. He was no Egyptologist, but he recognized the figures instantly: Ra, the falcon-headed sun god, and Apep, the serpent of chaos. The story was clear, a sequential narrative of a desperate, losing battle.

"This changes everything," he whispered, his voice trembling. He wasn't just looking at a myth; he was looking at a historical record. A warning.

He spent the next hour documenting everything, his phone capturing every detail. He knew he had to announce this, to share it with the world. This was the proof, the undeniable evidence that would shatter his own carefully constructed theories.

He emerged from the tomb, his mind reeling. As he stepped back into the sunlight of the main hall, he found himself face to face with a small group of tourists and their guide.

The guide, a young woman with a bright, professional smile, stopped mid-sentence. "Oh, my," she said, her eyes wide. "Sir, you seem to have found… the lost Tomb of the Sun."

The tourists gasped, their own phones instantly emerging. Dr. Thorne, the world's foremost debunker of the supernatural, had just become the star of his very own miracle. He had no idea that the "tour group" was a hand-picked team of international journalists, and their "guide" was an agent of Leo's, all guided to this exact spot by a series of carefully manipulated coincidences. The story would be global in minutes.