Ziyad falls from the crack in what is now the ceiling, and lands on a small platform, breaking his fall, and then on the ground.

  "Ouch." Ziyad moans.

  He looks up to see Amen holding a torch, smiling.

  Aziza now has one as well.

  They are inside an incredible cavern.

  Full of pillars of ancient Egyptian history and engravings and drawings and hieroglyphics.

  Statues and histories. No treasure yet. Aziza’s mouth is open.

  Amen's display scans the whole room. Lines of information and dots and radar blips float over every inch of the cavern of the kings.

  What do you see?

  XP UPGRADED.

  MISSION SUCCESS RATE RAISED.

  KNOWLEDGE UPGRADED.

  Line after line of information and upgrades of knowledge, tomb hunting, will, and bravery keep totaling on the side of Amen's eyes.

  He flicks it away, as he watches fish or tadpole like lines floating around the cavern, reading and analyzing, glowing as his journey deepens.

  Aziza, the former priestess, is almost in tears. "Boys. This is priceless. Our histories don’t even tell of some of this! This is an era we don’t even know about!"

  Amen readies his gear. "Eh. Whatever."

  "You bore me," Ziyad says, moving his arm like broke it. "Let’s find the treasure."

  "Are you being serious? This IS treasure!!! Please. You are not serious." Aziza says, running around with her torch, trying to relish and learn as fast as she can in the darkness.

  "Serious as in we don’t care? Yes," Amen says, as his display shows him information of a Pharaoh that killed all of his heirs, hoping it would please the gods.

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  "Blah blah. Where’s this Hebrew treasure?! Let’s find it and get the hell out of here." Ziyad says, deciding his arm is not broken.

  "Agreed."

  Aziza points at a huge mural. "Please. Stop. Look. That speaks of Ramesses and -"

  "Let’s go!" Ziyad says, walking in place.

  Aziza frowns. "Were you always like this on your exploits?!"

  "What? In the tombs?" Amen asks. "Yes!"

  "How can you be so hardened?!"

  "Uh. We’re thieves. Taught by you," Ziyad says, pointing his thumb at Aziza.

  "I’m well aware who taught you," she says under her breath.

  She smiles, looking at this lost history before her. All is quiet.

  Aziza turns. Ziyad and Amen are already walking deep into the darkness. She shakes her head, running to keep up.

  In the Cairo night streets, Bomani and his men rush down the long corridor towards the old man.

  The Madjay push and intimidate and yell and pull whips. They kick and laugh and strike.

  Bomani grabs the old man and lifts him in the air, slamming him into a wall as he interrogates him.

  Mostafa and his friends watch from afar.

  He screams at the old man.

  The Old Man cries. I don’t know. I don’t know.

  Bomani seems to have had enough and drops the old man in a heap.

  He then knocks over his tent and steps on his belongings, breaking and shattering his goods and livelihood.

  The Madjay then march out back into the street, as people hide and cower.

  Mostafa marches past Bomani, off to help the Old Man.

  Bomani senses something, and quickly grabs Mostafa by his cloak and turns him.

  They are face to face.

  "Are you deaf or dumb?" Bomani growls.

  "I have a name, Madjay."

  "And I have authority. And I'm telling you don't help the old man," Bomani's voice rises. "Have you seen anyone talk to him recently?"

  "Many talk to him," Mostafa answers calmly.

  "Many a fool," Bomani says back.

  He then looks around and sees the crowd gathering in the darkness. A little out numbered.

  Bomani puts his face closer to Mostafa's.

  Mostafa looks right back.

  Bomani spins on his feet and goes back with his men.

  Mostafa watches, then goes to help the old man.