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Pepe reaches into the mummy's chest cavity. The gem is absorbed by the blue light inside as soon as it approaches.

Guardian, sealed in sand, I hereby return to you the memories lost to time.

Show the path to the Shah's trove, traveler from the past!

It stopped moving after I put in the second gem?

Did... you expect something different?

Eek—!!

That wasn't me. Who's screaming?

It was Titi's voice.

Is something happening?

I'll investigate. Keep an eye on the exhibit.

Why didn't you tell me you were just an ordinary cloudbeast?

Well... I guess ordinary cloudbeasts don't understand human speech.

Looks like all the visitors have been evacuated. It's safe for us to go out now. Do you think you could find your way back to Lazvar if I put you down outside?

Hey, stop hitting me! I'm carrying you so you don't have to walk yourself!

That's right. Awww, such nice fur... come, I'll introduce you to other little friends of yours.

Look at the imagery on this powder box. This cloudbeast is depicted in equal prominence to a high official. I restored this, by the way.

And here. This mural is a rare treasure that came from Shar-Agade, the City of Gold.

In order to accurately restore it, I looked through every book I could find on the Golden City, and even interviewed people who have been there.

Wait. Does that make me sound like I'm after the secrets of Shar-Agade?

Shouldn't think too much about it. You're just a cloudbeast, and there's no one else in the museum. It's not like what I just said would get me in trouble.

Suddenly, she hears the faint sound of cracking.

Don't tell me...

No—! Why did the glass have to pick <i>now</i> to crack?

I'm dead if Anat finds out!

Medjehtiqedti runs toward the display stand, and is shocked by the sight of broken glass littering the floor.

Display cases use specially tempered glass. In the controlled environment of the museum, an accident like this should not have been possible.

She looks up to check on the exhibit, but finds the case empty under the pale light.

She feels a cold, sharp object pressing against her back as she attempts to examine the broken glass.

If this is some kind of joke, you can stop.

I'm too busy for this.

Playing dumb? Which department are you from?

I'm going to dock your pay, if you don't start talking...

Medjehtiqedti feels the object pressed against her back move away. She sighs of relief and turns around.

One of the interns? You've got nerve, playing practical jokes on the vice curator. I'll let you off easy this time...

Eek—!

You... you...

How did you get out of your case?!

Why haven't I heard anything else after that scream? Anat hasn't come back yet... well, I'll just look around.

Anat never changes, does she? She's the acting curator, yet her office still looks so bare and sparse.

She had so many books back in the dorms. Why aren't there any here?

She must be hiding them somewhere...

I knew it. A hidden bookshelf in the wall.

Hmm... My bookshelf at home is due for renovation... I should ask her to introduce me to the designer.

Let's see what you have here... <i>A Study on Tribal Religion in the Southwest</i>, <i>Review of Unearthed Riverside Jewelry...</i>

<i>Terra: A Journey,</i> by Dr. E. E. Erikson? The name sounds familiar... that's the Victorian scholar who came to speak at the college, isn't it?

Lost of labels in here. I didn't know Anat liked his books so much.

Let's check the section on Sargonian history...

(Finally, she's gone.)

(This room sure is luxurious... is that gold thread woven into the cushions on the sofa?)

(That's the mummy from the poster. They put it right here in the room? I'll never understand the tastes of rich people.)

(There she is... good, she's completely distracted...)

(With apologies...)

Narantuya walks up softly and reaches into her pocket, taking out the syringe that she has kept hidden within.

She spent countless days and nights training, even when blisters formed on her feet, in order to be able to walk across a sand dune without leaving any footprints.

Now, she can walk through a crowded market, bells hanging from her neck, without making a single sound.

A Padishah's daughter stands before her. All alone.

When Narantuya raises the syringe, however, a hand suddenly grabs hers and immobilizes it in midair.

(A hidden bodyguard?)

(You—!)

Narantuya cannot speak.

The mummy laying on the sofa has appeared behind her, grabbing her hand with a steely grip.

Her struggles are futile, and all she can do is watch in terror as the needle approaches her own neck.

The other hand of the mummy is clasped across her mouth, not letting go until the entire contents of the syringe have been injected into Narantuya's veins.

As her consciousness gradually fades, she feels the hand lift her by the collar and hold her outside the window.

One last thought flashes through her mind as she feels her feet dangling in the air.

If only she had more competent subordinates.

An insect lurking in the dark.

What...?

What's that sound?

Y-You're moving again?

My mind is no longer clouded. There is clarity. I must communicate my cognition through language.

A-Are you alive?

My life has long passed. What you see is simply a well-preserved vessel.

Who are you?

In times of prosperity, I was His Majesty Lugalszargus Shahanshah's personal guard, defending him from the fires of battle.

In times of decline, I willingly forsook the sweet release of death for the eternal torment of time, defending His Majesty's trove from invaders, safeguarding the Shahanshah's vow, and awaiting...

Awaiting the return of the Shahanshah.

H-How should I call you?

My name is Zubayidamu Yanur Ayyusuiz.

You may call me—Zubayr.

Mother, what is that lady doing sitting by the pond, staring down at the water?

She's dressed in Minoan clothes. The Minoans are said to be great thinkers and debaters.

She must be thinking about deep, philosophical questions...

Philo... what?

But she looks so pretty, sitting there alone...

Hanimefendi, the museum is closed.

I know. I'm waiting for it to reopen.

Well... I'm afraid there's currently no schedule for reopening.

According to procedure, the curator must declare the emergency resolved, perform a risk assessment, and report to the stakeholders before a reopening date can be announced.

I know. One of your colleagues already told me.

As you can see, I'm waiting.

You said you left something in the museum?

Yes.

Is it very urgent? Could you wait for our staff to look for it? We can contact you once we've found it.

No, I can't wait.

How about this... I can unlock the door, and we'll have someone accompany you inside.

Thank you—

Mother...

What is it?

Is someone jumping from that window?!