The dark Underworld flew up to meet him. Nothing coursed through his mind but cursed immortal blood. He didn't think, he only knew. He knew that what they once had was not love. What they had once had was lust and passion. He had loved her, maybe...but it had been a diminutive sensation, often suppressed by larger, more time-consuming speculations, such as dealing with the human boy, Alex, and the battle with the Scorpion King.

Thoughts surfaced briefly, of the Med-Jai Warrior and his princess, and all they had done to him. Anger surfaced along with those thoughts, but another memory was already clawing its way into Imhotep's mind: that desperate moment during which he clung to the jagged edge of the crumbling stone floor, as he cried out for help, and Anck-su-namun abandoned him.

Putrefied, rotting hands grabbed at him, ripping at his clothing with cracked, yellowed nails. He felt himself slam into a boiling, writhing platform of what seemed to be mounded bodies. Pain no longer existed.

Was this how he was to spend eternity? Decaying under a pile of other decaying creatures? He said a silent prayer to Osiris and opened his eyes. What he saw was not the crimson river that had stretched out before him with heads and legs protruding from the cliff-like walls at grotesque angles.

He was sitting on a large, flat silver disc, in the midst of two dozen writhing, shimmering golden Egyptian asps. They encircled his arms and legs and midsection, and detained him from falling back into the Netherworld abyss. Over the wailing, screaming, and moaning of the dead and repentant souls that fought endlessly for their escape from Hell, there arose the free, wild cry of a falcon.

It descended into Hell majestically, a falcon who's feathers were obsidian, and who's eyes were of liquid gold. The beautiful creature stretched out its wings to a full span of at least twelve feet as it landed deftly upon the mass of snakes. At the falcon's touch, the writhing reptiles halted their movements. They transformed into solid gold, woven into intricate patterns around the disc and surrounding Imhotep.

Perplexed beyond the ability of speech, the High Priest shuffled across the disc backwards, maintaining as much distance from the enchanted falcon as he could. A golden halo had begun to radiate from the creature. As Imhotep watched with a terror-stricken expression, the golden snakes shimmered to life again, and began gliding towards the falcon.

As the Asps came upon the raptor, they deteriorated and sparkling dust whirled about the falcon, creating a vortex of glittering gold. Light shimmered from within the whirl-wind, until it became so intense that Imhotep had to shield his eyes with his hands to shelter himself from its brilliance.

As suddenly as it had come into existence, the light and the vortex of gold disappeared. In its place stood a slim, dark woman garbed in billowing black robes and a belt inlayed with a large, glittering topaz. The Crown of Isis sat upon her brow, and her glossy black hair tumbled in soft curls beneath it. The woman's features were not at all masculine or robust, yet there was a strength about her which Imhotep was momentarily unable to identify.

The Underworld had disappeared. In its place, there was complete darkness, an absence of life. Thoughts flashed through his mind as Imhotep gazed upon the enchantress before him. He glanced at her belt, her crown, and the amulet around her neck, a scarab and the emblem of Anubis. His first thought was, Priestess. But that thought was smothered as the woman's eyes progressed from their original golden hue, to a flashing silver the color of the disc they resided upon. No Priestess could have done magic of such caliber.

Her expression was changing like the dunes of the desert during a sandstorm. First, she was emotionless, like a painted statue with a lifeless facial cast, and then a smirk twisted her gold lips. She smiled kindly upon Imhotep, then gave him a disgusted look, as if she was reading his history in a book, and changed facades with every chapter.

Imhotep stood with the ease and grace given to him by immortality. Unsure of what to do with the woman, he simply watched her.

"The Gods pity you," She spoke and caught him by complete surprise, for her voice seemed to be coming from all directions at once, and several voices had combined along with one to create a strange resonance. Her dialect was so old that Imhotep himself barely recognized it, "Are you listening, High Priest?" He narrowed his eyes and nodded, "Though you attempted to bring a mortal back from the Underworld, and therefor risked breaking our trust and infuriating us, we pity you in your desperation." Imhotep wondered vaguely how he was to respond to such allegations, for how could she know of his history and whether or not it had upset his Gods?

Of course, he had already calculated the answer. Before him stood an Egyptian Goddess, one of his own from several millennia past.

"Isis and Osiris have put you in my care, Imhotep." Her features softened, and Imhotep smiled as a reassuring warmth washed over him, "I am Nephthys, Goddess of the Dead and Keeper of Immortality. I have watched over you for years," Her eyes grew dim, "But you have abused the powers we have given you. We gave you back your immortality when you were resurrected for the second time, but we will not do it again." Imhotep arched one eyebrow and gave her an uneasy look.

"Your choice is this," She waved one elegant, shimmering arm before him, and a coiled cobra covered in golden scales appeared in her hand and wrapped itself around her arm, raising its flared head to glare maliciously towards Imhotep, "Liberate yourself of Immortality and live among the mortals of present-day Earth, or," Nephthys's cobra fell to the ground and shriveled up into a black scorpion, "Live with the King of the Scorpions in the Underworld for all of Eternity." She raised her hands above her head and muttered an incantation. All magic around her vanished in an instant. Her robes, woven of fabric so soft and sleek that no mortal hand had ever touched it became draping folds of simple white silk. Her magnificent headdress became a band of golden thread, woven into a plait. But for her skin, which glowed pale bronze, she looked mortal.

"What is your choice, Imhotep?" Nephthys grabbed his shoulders with her small yet strong hands and straightened him from his semi-crouched position. He was taller than she, something he only vaguely registered as he struggled to think of how to phrase his decision.

"I will give up my immortality, my Goddess, if that is the only way to kill the Med-Jai warrior." He whispered. The silver in Nephthys's eyes caught fire, but she only smiled, and nodded.

Once again, the goddess raised her hands to the heavens, and from them, streaks of white-hot lightning crashed down around her, though no thunder was heard in the void surrounding them. She lowered her arms and pressed her palms together, gesturing for Imhotep to hold his hands out. When her hands parted, a small, simple dagger dropped into Imhotep's palm. Faced with the dagger of Cleansing, with its familiar copper blade and scarabs crawling over the bronze hilt, Imhotep knew immediately what to do.

He slid the blade across the tender skin on his left wrist, and though the wound healed instantly, blood dripped from the dagger's edge. Nephthys took the dagger and, without any sort of warning, stabbed herself through the abdomen, though she did not scream. The dagger disintegrated, and a golden asp snaked from her wound, plunging itself into Imhotep's heart. Unearthly screams filled the empty space around the Goddess and the High Priest, and in a flash of light, they both vanished.

*A.N.~ First chapter finished. Second chapter will either be up or not...it depends on how many people review.

Now, please don't flame me for mistakes involving Nephthys. I did research and I found that she is in a way considered a Goddess of the Dead. o_O;; If you have a problem with it, be nice. And also, if you don't think Imhotep is in character, TELL ME so that I can work on making him more realistic. I based his personality on what I saw in the movies: lovestruck, curious, misled, powerful, and ever-loyal to his gods.