We awoke at dawn of the last day. Something about that dawn seem crisper and purer than any dawn I'd ever seen before, and I knew that the day would be momentous beyond imagining.

We knew where the tomb was, roughly, so Nightfall and I flew in slow passes over the plateau, seeking out a magical signature that would tell us where He lay. Once we had him, we could go home. On the sixth pass, Nightfall motioned me down. He'd found the tomb. A rough hole cut into the wall, bearing a faded inscription. It was beyond my ken, until I flipped down the optics on my helmet, translating them from arcane script to my native Egyptian. "Let only he who is true enter here, for he who knows maliciousness shall surely fall." I knew maliciousness, that was before the Village of the Damned... not anymore.

We retrieved the others in quick order. Only Maelstrom, Nightfall, and I felt up to the task of going in... too main stains on the other's souls from this campaign, I suppose. A quarter mile in, we came to an archway. Nightfall read the Gaelic inscribed, and we found the trap... one set for he who entered with an impure heart. I stepped through, even though I knew my heart wasn't pure. I had to. My family, my clan, my people... my homeland... depended on us waking the man who lay in that sarcophagus. I passed through with nary a scratch... I wish I'd had time to wonder why.

We lifted the lid from the sarcophagus, and gently lifted out Arthur Pendragon, greatest warrior of Old Atlantis. He awoke, slowly, shaking off the dreams of twelve thousand years, looking at us quizzically. The others, Bagh-Dach, stood in awe. I kept my head, as Acheran do, and stepped forward with a bow.

"Arthur Pendragon, I am Harakhamis Arimi Acheran. May I present to you Nightfall and Maelstrom, of the Bagh-Dach clan?"

He seemed more at ease with his own clanmates there, and questioned me about the date. "It has been twelve thousand years since you last breathed, Arthur. There is much to do, and we will explain later."

He hesitated, wanting his sword, his armor. Why is it that warriors always want a sword? The Bagh-dach found it concealed in the room, and he seemed much relieved to have it on his hip, clanging against his armor. As we walked up, we spoke briefly of the situation with Atlantis, telling him of the loss of Atlantis and the ongoing campaign to reclaim it. He was not comforted by our news, but I did not expect him to be.

When we stepped onto the ledge overlooking the valley, the scent of evil was palatable in the air, even to those of us with normal senses... the presence, though, was enough to send Nightfall reeling for a brief moment. Before us, in the quiet air, hung a man, long hair and wild eyes. Some part deep within me, some stain I had long tried to purge, knew this man to not be a man... he was a god, one of evil and deceit. I shoved to Gecko all but a tiny portion of my power, whispering into the radio that they should leave, now, through a portal I knew Zoderhan could make. In that instant, the man spoke, his voice like a roll of thunder across the plains.

"Harakhamis! You owe me a debt, the debt of a life! You will slay him, Harakhamis, to pay your debt to me!" I didn't even need to look to know that he pointed to Arthur. Time slowed to a crawl, and I knew that all debts must be paid. Quick as thought, I flew along the wall to stand in the empty air across from him.

"You know I can't do that, Mephisto." Please, gods, let them have the time. Let them have the time. A crackle in my senses told me the Rift was opened... they could go home. Maelstrom spoke to me in the radio, asking me if I was sure. I had no choice... I had to pay my debts. I sent them through the portal with my blessing, until only Zoderhan remained.

"Then you know the cost." Mephisto's words contained more hate than I had ever known, and his negligent gesture summoned nearly a score of deevils to stand before him. In the corner of my eye, Zoderhan blinked out of sight. For an instant, I thought he was gone through the portal, and wished him well. I felt his parting gift materialize around and inside me... armor of pure energy, and a bubbling, magical strength. I knew the cost.

With both hands, I raised my sword. A thought sent the energy of life running down its blade, and it glowed green in the light of an early morning. As I raised the blade higher, over my head, the sun crested the cliffs, bathing me in its light. The exultant energy was too much for me, and a word rang out of my throat. "HORUS!" I charged into melee, a mortal against a god, and knew that I would never die.

And then I knew no more.