Reincarnated In Vikings

In Egypt the coronation had already begun hours ago, the city's towering structures are crowned with massive ruby lotus-like designs, their petals unfurled and gleaming under the sunlight.

A grand golden statue of a Ra stands at the center.Its monumental scale dominates the city, symbolizing the divine authority ruling over the people.

There is pathways that connects to the grand temple stands at the heart of the ancient city, its towering pillars adorned with hieroglyphs and gold inlays that shimmer in the blazing sun. Thousands of citizens gather in a vast courtyard, their murmurs creating a low hum of anticipation. Banners ripple in the wind, their vibrant reds and blues symbolizing Horus's ascension.

Surrounding the temple are colossal lotus-shaped structures perched atop massive pillars. These lotuses are an artistic blend of copper or bronze tones, resembling blooming flowers. The petals curve outward with intricate detailing, almost metallic in appearance

There was multiple gods standing in attendance for the ceremony, Hathor with Zaya by her side. Nephthys, Bast, Thoth...extra.

Hathor smiled at Zaya,who was wearing her first dress she brought with her money as attendant of Hathor. It was a dress is made of a lightweight, flowing fabric in a soft, muted green shade. It has a slight shimmer, giving it an ethereal quality that reflects light gracefully.

The bodice features a deep V-neckline, structured with ruched fabric that converges at the center, showing off her cleavage.Delicate golden beads and embroidery accentuate the neckline and straps, adding an element of regal sophistication.The shoulder straps, adorned with similar golden beading, lead to a slightly cinched waist that enhances the wearer's silhouette.

The skirt flows down in soft, layered panels, creating a graceful movement with every step.Golden embroidery and embellishments form intricate, circular patterns on the upper portion of the skirt, drawing attention to the detailed craftsmanship.Below these embellishments, the skirt transitions into long, delicate fringe detailing that adds texture and elegance, swaying lightly as the wearer moves.

The dress is paired with a pendant necklace, visible in the close-up shot. The necklace features a small, intricate charm, adding a personal and understated touch to the ensemble.

Zaya's gentle smile conveys a sense of kindness and confidence, making her approachable and kind. Her hair is styled in a loose updo with soft, face-framing tendrils that enhance her natural beauty.

Hathor Zaya looking around and with a smirk questioned."Are you looking for Merlin?"

Zaya blushed, as Hathor answered."He will arrive, it seems his message probably got lost. After all it is hard to pinpoint where he is?"

Zaya nodded.

Nephthys was looking around for her husband Set, who was said to be coming.

Among crowd was priests, soldiers, and nobles stand in reverence as Osiris steps onto the raised dais. His regal form radiates authority, cloaked in white and gold robes, a polished crown resting atop his head. Beside him stands Horus, tall and stoic, the embodiment of strength and youth, his golden falcon insignia gleaming in his chest.

Osiris booming voice, carrying over the crowd."My father has seen fit to bless this day. As you bless us with their generosity. A gift from someone with great assets. And someone with very few. But when both die and are at the Final Gate...What is its value?

I say we are equal. Symbols lives well lived.

All are welcome to Beyond." He then smiled and gesturing at Horus."Today we crown a new king! And one day, he will leave his own legacy."

The crowd erupts in applause and cheers. Osiris turns, gesturing to Horus, his voice softening with pride."Horus, my son… Lord of the Air."

He smiles at his son, his eyes shining with affection and hope."Are you ready?"

Horus with a confident smile.

"Yes."

Just as Osiris reaches for the ceremonial crown—A voice echoes through the court."WAIT!"

The crowd gasps, turning toward the entrance of the temple to reveal Set, striding boldly through the parting masses. His silhouette looms large, cloaked in black and crimson. His every step echoes, his presence magnetic, as if the desert itself followed him.

Set with mock grandeur, arms wide."One moment! Sorry I'm late."

The tension eases as Set grins and gestures to the crowd, his voice light but edged with mischief."Three days to cross the desert. And almost one more to overcome your fans."

A ripple of laughter spreads through the crowd. The tension breaks, though a few nervous glances linger.

As he approaches the dais. Osiris steps down to greet him, his smile genuine. The two brothers embrace, their arms clasped tightly."Brother… it is good to see you."

Set smiling, with a nod."Equally, brother."

Osiris gestures toward the dais."There is always a place for you here."

Set clapping Osiris on the shoulder."It is a great day for the family. You must be proud."

Osiris turns, his gaze falling on Horus, pride etched across his face and softly, smiling.

"I am."

Set steps toward Horus, his eyes sharp but friendly as they take in his nephew."Look at you, nephew. Magnificent."

Set paces around Horus, sizing him up. He stops, placing a hand on Horus's shoulder. "At least someone will make a good king."

The remark lingers in the air for a beat. Horus's smile stiffens, but he quickly masks it. He embraces Set once more, his voice low.

"I was afraid you wouldn't come."

Set grinning slyly."I would not miss this for the world."

Set snaps his fingers. From the crowd, a Servant steps forward, carrying an ornate box. The box is opened to reveal a gleaming hunting horn, polished to perfection, its mouthpiece shaped like the skull of a ram, etched with intricate symbols.

Osiris as his guarded expression softens slightly.

Ser gesturing grandly."For you, my king. A hunting horn, carved from the skull of a ram that crushed ten gods… slower than me."

The crowd chuckles uneasily, unsure whether to laugh. Horus examining the horn, his voice quiet."It's beautiful."

Set with feigned innocence, turning to Horus."Come, Horus. Try it."

Horus glances at his father, uncertain."Set…"

Set encouraging, his smile devilish."Come on! Let Ra himself hear you!"

Horus hesitant but unwilling to cause a scene, he accepts the horn. Slowly, he lifts it to his lips.A low, haunting note echoes out, deep and primal, vibrating through the air like a war cry. The sound grows louder… and louder…

Suddenly—A distant thunder of marching feet.The sound reverberates through the temple. The crowd turns toward the temple gates, murmurs rising into alarm. A red arm appears, rows of soldiers in crimson armor, their shields with some sort of mirror on the centee and spears glinting in the sunlight. They move in perfect formation, their steps synchronized, unstoppable.

Set calmly stepping aside, with mock surprise."I think someone heard you."

The air is thick with tension as Set's Army gathered infront of the mortals, their crimson shields and spears glinting ominously, forming an impenetrable wall. The mortals cower, backs pressed against pillars, their fear palpable.

At the center, Set steps forward, calm but menacing, his dark presence a sharp contrast to the brilliance of the temple. In his hand, he carries a black baton, ornate and ancient, its golden rings catching the light.

Osiris calm, but wary questioned."Set, what is this?"

Set stops a few feet away, holding up the baton for Osiris to see and smirking, voice taunting."Do you recognize it?"

Osiris's eyes narrow as he steps forward and reaches for the baton. The instant his hand touches it, a blue hue ripples outward. The baton extends into a spear, glowing faintly, its energy ancient and divine. It is is a long, golden weapon with a sleek and polished aesthetic. It appears lightweight yet deadly, reflecting divine craftsmanship.

The spear's shaft is segmented with ridges and bands, providing both aesthetic elegance and structural reinforcement. The golden material shines with a polished finish, evoking the celestial or divine connection.

At the tip, the spear culminates in a sharp, elongated point, reminiscent of a golden arrowhead or a piercing fang. The blade is pristine, smooth, and reflects light, enhancing its divine allure. A circular centerpiece adorns the upper section, resembling a solar disc.

The base of the spear features a curved, sickle-like blade, similar to a polearm or glaive. This secondary blade adds versatility, making it functional for both slashing and sweeping attacks.

The spear's uniform gold finish radiates power and prestige, with subtle engravings and patterns giving it a regal, almost sacred presence.

Osiris softly, with reverence."Our father gave this to you…"

Set turning away, his voice sharp with bitterness."It kept me alive for many nights in the desert."

He pauses, turning back, his eyes locking onto Osiris."Fight me."

Horus alarmed, stepping forward."Father, no!"

Osiris holds up a hand to stop Horus, his expression resolute yet sorrowful."Do not interfere, son."

Osiris's voice softens as he looks back at Set, his shoulders heavy with grief."Why, brother? Why?"

Set's eyes narrow, his voice carrying across the temple, contempt woven into every word.

"In a thousand years of peace… what have you accomplished?"

He gestures to the crowd of mortals, who watch in silence."A land of people without ambition. Without drive. Without power."

He taps his chest, his voice rising with conviction."But now it's my turn."

Osiris shakes his head slowly, his sorrow deepening."I will not fight you."

He plants the spear into the ground with finality. The clang of the metal against stone echoes through the chamber and

softly, pleadingly."I love you, brother. With all my heart."

Osiris steps forward, arms outstretched for an embrace—but the air splits as Set pulls a concealed blade and lunges.The blade pierces Osiris's chest. His eyes widen in shock as golden blood begins to flow.

The sound of gasps and screams fills the temple.

Set does not stop. His expression is cold as he drives his hand into Osiris's chest, ripping his heart out in a brutal motion.

The Heart of Osiris is a glowing, crimson-red gem encased in a metallic snake-like frame. The heart itself pulses with fiery energy, giving the impression of life and immense power. Golden veins appear to radiate from its core, emitting soft, molten light, emphasizing its mystical essence. The surrounding metallic frame resembles the coiled body of a serpent, its golden surface gleaming as if reflecting the heat emanating from the heart.

Horus and Isis cry out as they rush to Osiris's side. The golden blood spills across the floor, glowing faintly like liquid sunlight.

Horus shouting, desperate."Father! No!"

Set steps back, his dark cloak falling away to reveal battle armour, black and crimson, etched with symbols of power. He turns to the crowd, holding Osiris's heart aloft like a trophy. As one of his servants came with a box, and Set placed Osiris's heart inside it.

Set then roared."I, Set, will be your true king. King of all Egypt!"

The mortals drop to their knees, trembling in fear.

Set to the gods, his voice thunderous. "Gods… bow down before me, or face death."

The assembled gods and goddesses exchange glances, their expressions torn between defiance and fear. Slowly, one by one, they kneel, recognizing Set's overwhelming power.

Set turning to the mortals."Mortals! Praise me… or be enslaved!"

The crowd falls to their knees, heads bowed, their murmurs of submission barely audible.

The grand hall, once radiant with celebration, now consumed by darkness and fear. Osiris, lying on the ground, his breathing shallow, golden blood pooling around him. Isis cradles him, tears streaming down her face. Horus kneels beside his father, his hands trembling as they press against Osiris's wounds.

Osiris weakly, placing a bloodied hand on Horus's face."Your journey… has just begun."

Horus whispers, anguished."Father…"

Just then, Mnevis, sacred bull deity worshipped at Heliopolis, he was allied with Set. He was in his human form and approaches, carrying a Scepter and a shield.

He presents them to Set, who takes them with a smile of satisfaction and mockingly, gestures to Horus."The spear is yours now, nephew. If you dare."

Horus looks down at his hands, stained with his father's golden blood. His grief gives way to rage. His gaze snaps up, locking onto Set, now standing triumphantly at the center of the hall.

Horus through gritted teeth yelled."Set!"

Nephthys appears, grabbing Horus's arm, her voice low and urgent."Many will support you, but now is not the time."

But Horus doesn't listen. With a roar of fury, he grabs the spear and charges at Set.

Horus lunges forward, his movements wild but powerful. Set raises his shield, deflecting the attack effortlessly, his scepter parrying Horus's strikes with calculated precision. Sparks fly with every clash of metal.

The gods and mortals watch in stunned silence as the two figures battle amidst the grand temple, Horus's rage meeting Set's cold, calculated strength.

Set smirks as he effortlessly blocks another attack and taunting. "Is that all you have, nephew?"

Horus roaring, attacking again."You will pay for this!"

The fight intensifies as Horus's strikes become more desperate, while Set remains calm, a predator toying with his prey.

Nearby, Nephthys knelt beside Isis and the body of Osiris. Her eyes darted from the escalating battle back to her fallen kin, her face etched with sorrow and resolve. Slowly, deliberately, she unfurled her wings. They spread like a celestial canopy—an awe-inspiring expanse of iridescent plumage that seemed to breathe with light. The feathers shimmered in a rich gradient of purple, blue, and teal, their edges glowing gold like molten sunlight. Fine veins of light traced each feather's path, their stained-glass elegance refracting ethereal hues across the dim battlefield.

The golden borders of the wings gleamed against the gloom, a beacon of protection and divinity. As Nephthys draped them protectively over Isis and Osiris, a soft, luminous glow enveloped the fallen gods, shielding them from harm as though the wings themselves whispered ancient spells of sanctuary.

Set's focus never faltered, oblivious to Nephthys's actions. It was Isis, who seized the moment. Her trembling hand reached down to her belt, unfastening a small ornate vial. The glass caught the dim light, its contents glowing faintly. She poured the shimmering liquid into Osiris's mouth. A heartbeat passed. Then another. Osiris's chest heaved faintly, and where his heart should have been, a blue, translucent light began to pulse—a new heart, ethereal and divine. His wounds shimmered closed, yet he remained still, fallen into a deep, restorative coma.

Above them, Horus roared, his fury blinding his reason. He surged forward, spear in hand, recklessly throwing himself at Set. Set's smirk widened. With a calculated strike, he swung his obsidian scepter, smashing it against Horus's knee. A sickening crack reverberated through the air, and Horus stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

"Is it true," Set taunted, his voice a low, mocking rumble, "that you never fail?"

Horus gritted his teeth, pushing himself upright as his divine sight activated. The world around him sharpened—time seemed to slow, and every detail came into focus. The angle of Set's stance, the glint of light on his scepter, the faint shifts in his movements—Horus could see it all. His blue eyes blazed with newfound clarity as he prepared his spear, his grip steady and unyielding.

Set, unfazed, lifted his shield—a blackened, polished surface with a magical mirror embedded at its center. The mirror pulsed with power, glowing faintly like the sun's first light on the horizon. As Horus hurled his spear, the shield flared brilliantly, the light erupting in a blinding explosion. Horus cried out, the radiance piercing his vision like shards of glass. His aim faltered, and the spear missed its mark, embedding itself deep in a stone pillar with a deafening crack.

Set's laughter rang out, cruel and triumphant. "I thought your sight was perfect," he sneered, his voice cutting through Horus's disorientation.

Horus staggered, his vision still swimming with the afterglow. He clenched his fists, the fire of his resolve unbroken even as Set loomed over him, the scepter poised for another strike.

Set swung his scepter in a crushing arc toward Horus, but the younger god rolled to the side at the last moment, the force of the missed strike shattering the stone beneath him. Without hesitation, Horus sprang to his feet and raced toward the embedded spear. His boots pounded the ground, desperation and determination etched on his face. Reaching out, his fingers closed around the weapon's hilt, and with a fierce pull, he wrenched it free.

The fight resumed with renewed ferocity. This time, Horus moved with precision, his strikes fueled by divine focus. Set's shield—the impenetrable, mirror-laden artifact—was not enough. Horus's spear glowed with a golden brilliance as it struck true, shattering the shield into splintered fragments of light and metal. The victory was short-lived. Set roared, lunging forward with brutal force. His scepter struck Horus like a meteor, sending him sprawling across the shattered battlefield.

But Horus was far from defeated. He pushed himself up, blood staining his lips, his resolve unshaken. Both gods surged at each other again, their blows echoing like thunder as they fought with relentless power. Then, the very air seemed to still. The ground trembled. Horus's form began to change.

A blinding red light erupted from his body, illuminating the ruins around them. The energy of the world itself seemed to pull toward him, streams of red and gold spiraling into his form. Horus's body shifted, metal-like skin emerging as he took his true divine form—a radiant being of immense power. His humanoid figure shimmered in molten gold and gleaming silver. A falcon's head crowned his form, its beak sharp and regal. Enormous wings unfurled from his back, their metallic feathers glowing like sunlit blades. Plasma-blue eyes blazed like stars, piercing through the darkness. His power pulsed in waves, distorting the very air around him.

Set sneered and stepped back momentarily, then snarled as his own transformation began. He too glowed, his form warping under the same divine light. The earth cracked beneath his feet as Set emerged, his true form a hulking metallic beast—half humanoid, half animal—armored and imposing, his dark red eyes glowing with malice. The two gods stood facing each other, their divine energies crackling like fire across the battlefield.

Horus took to the skies, his massive wings spreading like a storm as he soared upward. He struck first. With the speed of a falcon, he dove down toward Set, slamming into him with earth-shattering force. Set was sent hurtling backward, crashing through stone pillars that exploded into clouds of dust and debris. Horus did not relent. He lifted Set into the air, carrying him high above the battlefield, the wind screaming around them. With a final roar, Horus hurled Set downward, sending him plummeting like a meteor. The ground shook violently as Set's body struck, a crater forming beneath him.

For a moment, it seemed Horus had won. But Set's cunning prevailed.

Set's forces, positioned strategically, raised their shields. The reflective surfaces caught the light of the sun, refracting blinding rays across the battlefield. The brilliance pierced Horus's divine sight, searing into his vision. Horus faltered midair, disoriented, as Set rose from the rubble. Grinning darkly, Set seized his opportunity.

He struck.

Set's scepter smashed into Horus's head, each blow more brutal than the last. Sparks erupted with each impact, the sound like metal on metal, until a final devastating strike sent Horus tumbling to the ground. The glowing form faded, and Horus transformed back into his human body, his golden armor dented and battered.

Horus groaned, barely able to move, blood trickling down his brow. Set approached, his shadow falling over the broken god. Without hesitation, Set reached down, his claws wrapping around Horus's face. Horus struggled, but weakened and dazed, he could not fight back.

With a gruesome twist, Set gouged out Horus's eyes. The god's scream tore through the battlefield, raw and filled with agony. The blue, crystal-like orbs glowed faintly as they came free, their ethereal light casting an otherworldly glow on Set's hands. He held them up, marveling at their beauty, as though holding trophies of his conquest.

Smiling cruelly, Set slipped the glowing eyes into a dark pouch, the faint blue light seeping through the fabric. Horus lay broken on the ground, his hands covering his bloodied face as he groaned in unbearable pain.

Horus knelt on the shattered ground, his hands covering his bloodied face as he groaned in agony. Streams of golden liquid ran through his fingers where his eyes had once been. Set loomed over him, scepter in hand, its spear-like end poised for the final strike. The war god's face twisted with cruel satisfaction, his victory seemingly inevitable.

But the air crackled suddenly—an unnatural hum, sharp and electric.

From the portal, Merlin emerged, his cloak rippling with residual energy. The sonic wave erupts from Merlin's hand. A spherical blast of glowing energy explodes outward, rippling the air like a shockwave in slow motion. The blast radiates in a cone, widening as it surges toward Set.

The force of the wave distorts the environment. The walls tremble, and nearby torches are snuffed out in an instant.

Set is struck square in the chest. His smug grin vanishes as the impact lifts him off his feet. The god is hurled backward with incredible force, his body spinning through the air like a ragdoll.

He crashes through a stone pillar, shattering it into chunks, and is thrown into the far wall with a deafening BOOM. The wall cracks under the force, sending pieces of stone raining down around him.

The wave dissipates, leaving faint shimmering motes of energy hanging in the air. The temple falls silent, save for the sound of debris settling.

Merlin's sharp eyes darted toward Horus before snapping to Set's writhing form in the distance. Without wasting a moment, Merlin extended his hand, summoning the fallen eye with a flick of his wrist. The crystal shot through the air and into his palm, glowing faintly.

"Not today," he muttered, his voice steady and fierce.

Reaching into his pouch, Merlin retrieved a small, ancient portkey, pulsing with faint blue runes. He spun toward Hathor, urgency etched into every movement. "Use this!" he barked, tossing the portkey to her. "It will teleport you to my place. Go. Get the King and Queen out of here."

Hathor caught the portkey, her face a mask of determination as she turned to Zaya, pulling her along. They raced toward Queen Isis, who remained kneeling beside Osiris with Nephthys protecting them, Isis's hands resting protectively on her husband's chest. Hathor's voice broke through the chaos, clear and urgent. "Come, my queen. We have to leave."

Isis met Hathor's gaze, understanding dawning instantly. Her face, pale with grief, steeled itself. Nodding, she placed a trembling hand on Osiris's shoulder before rising.

Hathor looked at Nephthys who whispered."You go, I will slow him down in whatever way I can."

Hathor nodded and activated the portkey, its magic humming to life around them as the air distorted, ready to carry them to safety.

But in the shadows above, Urshu, Set's right hand and a master archer, seethed with anger. The memory of Merlin's previous humiliation still burned deep, and vengeance roared in his chest. Silently, he notched an arrow on his bow. Its tip gleamed faintly under the sun.

As the portkey's energy flared, Urshu released the shot.

The arrow streaked through the air, a flash of black against the blinding light. Zaya barely turned, her face frozen in shock as the arrow struck her squarely in the chest. The impact sent her stumbling backward, her eyes wide with disbelief. The dark shaft had pierced clean through, the jagged tip glistening with blood.

A cry of horror escaped Hathor. "Zaya!"

The portkey's magic surged, and the group vanished in a swirl of light—leaving only Zaya, who stumbles and about to fall to the ground.

While Set staggered to his feet, his face a mask of unbridled rage. Dust swirled around him as he straightened, his chest heaving. His crimson eyes locked onto Merlin. "You puny sorcerer!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the ground itself.

Merlin's response was calm, deliberate. He raised his hands. A strange, transparent sphere materialized before him—liquid-like, yet shimmering with an eerie light. It rippled and pulsed, alive with raw magic, its surface distorting the very air around it.

The sphere shot forward with unnatural speed, careening toward Set. Snarling, Set swung his arm to swat it aside, confident in his strength. But the sphere struck him and clung, expanding instantly over his chest, arms, and shoulders. The viscous substance moved like a living thing, flowing up his body, wrapping itself around his torso and limbs.

Set movements growing sluggish as the sphere consumed him. Its surface shimmered, refracting the light into strange, kaleidoscopic patterns. His muffled voice reverberated from within, distorted and thick. "What... What is this?!"

He struggled violently, time seemed stopped inside the liquid slowing him down.

Merlin spun on his heels, his sharp gaze locking onto Horus, who was still crumpled on the ground, palms pressed against his bloodied face. He knelt swiftly, his voice low but urgent. "It's me—Merlin."

Horus groaned through the pain, his voice faint but clear. "Get us out of here…"

Merlin nodded grimly, pulling another glowing portkey from his pouch. He pressed it to Horus's shoulder, the runes lighting up as magic surged to life. "Hold on," Merlin muttered, his voice carrying a promise of escape.

The portkey began its disapparation sequence, swirling energy enveloping Horus and he vanished, a flicker in Merlin's peripheral vision made him freeze. Across the battlefield, Zaya stood with Hathor, Isis, and Osiris—moments away from teleporting. Then, like a black streak cutting through the chaos, an arrow flew from Urshu's bow.

Merlin's breath caught.

The arrow struck Zaya with a sickening thud, embedding deep in her chest. Her body arched, her expression frozen in shock as blood began to stain her robes. Time seemed to slow as she teetered, on the brink of collapse.

"No!" Merlin shouted, his voice carrying through the din.

The portal with Hathor, Isis, and Osiris ignited fully, and in a burst of magic, they disappeared—leaving Zaya behind.

Merlin moved. He reached into his coat and pulled out the Rabbit Talisman, a small artifact glowing with frantic, golden light. "No time—" In an instant, his form blurred into a streak of motion, faster than the eye could follow.

Time bent around him.

The everyone around him froze into an eerie stillness, the chaos now a slow-motion tapestry.

Set's soldiers seem to ready to combat him, but now became statues, their swords and shields frozen.

Merlin was a blur—an almost invisible figure, his form stretched and smudged by the sheer force of his speed. Blue streaks trailed behind him, glowing faintly as though painted into the air, lingering for half a second before vanishing.

Zaya's body, mid-fall, was his singular focus. Her form tilted ever so slowly, as though suspended in water.

With seconds to spare, Merlin's hands wrapped around her limp form, pulling her into his arms. The blood on her chest was warm against his robes as he held her tightly.

He skidded to a halt, stones and debris scattering beneath his feet.

Merlin exhaled sharply, his hair was slightly disheveled from the rush of motion, his cloak billowing softly as the last traces of the blue energy faded into nothing.

He looked down at Zaya's pale face, his brow furrowing, his voice low but steady.

"You're okay now. I've got you."

Without another word, he disapparated, the battlefield vanishing in a storm of light and smoke.