Chapter 467: The Last Dawn 7
Njord’s phantom fleet sailed through the desert sands, his ghostly vessels carrying the souls of drowned enemies into battles they could never escape. The Norse sea god’s beard flowed like currents as he summoned tides that existed in dreams and memories.
For a moment that stretched like eternity, it seemed as though the Egyptian pantheon might fall entirely. Their perfect formations were breaking, their divine order cracking under the assault of forces that refused to follow any rules but their own.
But then Ra’s voice boomed across the battlefield with the authority of cosmic law itself: "ENOUGH!"
The sun god’s solar disk flared with such intensity that even the desert sand began to sing a high, crystalline note that spoke of purity and order and the inexorable march of cosmic justice. His falcon head turned toward the heavens, and he spoke words in a language that predated human speech:
"Boat of Millions of Years—heed my call!"
The sky cracked like an eggshell.
Through the fissure descended something that made even Monument One pause in its terrible work. Ra’s legendary bark—the solar barge that carried the sun across the heavens each day—emerged, trailing standards of pure starfire.
The vessel was beautiful and terrible, its hull carved from condensed sunlight and its sails woven from the aurora itself. At its prow stood a figurehead that was simultaneously a falcon, a scarab, and a human pharaoh—all three aspects of Ra’s divine nature unified in golden perfection.
As the bark settled onto the desert floor, its very presence began to restore order to the chaos around it. The glass formed by Nut’s fall reformed into pristine sand. The dimensional wounds left by Monument One’s khopesh began to seal. Even the blood that had been feeding the construct began to flow backwards, returning to its original sources.
"My faithful servants," Ra called, his voice now carrying the weight of absolute cosmic authority. "To me!"