Into the temple, cursed by the pharaoh’s crumbling hand.
A craven idol in the valley of the sand.
Pillage for prosperity on foreign soil. Taking all that you can find, reaping the spoils.
But there’s an omen in the red sky overhead, an ancient loathing over the ground where
millions bled.
Seeking to ascend to the city of the pyramid but you’re condemned to the dimension of the legion of the living dead.
Here the spirits of the dead are crying out. There is no escaping the desert’s mouth.
Fall to your knees and beg for mercy. The jackals hear your pleas, and will be grateful for the feast.
Searching for your splendour in the ruins of the distant past but in the end, you can’t outrun the merciless sun when destiny’s die is cast.
Evil awakens, your life is forsaken, you’ve forfeit your right to a spirit tonight they will come for their prize, and figures will rise, and suck out your soul through your eyes they control a dimension where people are taken and made into slaves to erect their cathedrals to the
godhead.
In the city of the pyramid.