Incest/Taboo Pharaoh’s Curse

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Rise of the Pharaoh​

"It's going to be okay, Andy," Anta encouragingly whispered as she rubbed his back as they stood in front of the door to his father's penthouse once they had flown in after seeing Carla's parents. Who, as you can imagine, was totally not okay with Carla's and Andrew's relationship. Demanding that she forgo this lunacy and focus on her schooling they were paying lots of money for. Even when Andrew told them he would cover the rest of the payments for Carla's schooling, they still weren't having it. Anta held Carla all the way back to the small airport they had flown into when they arrived in New York two days ago.

"Easy for you to say. You're not the one that has to tell your father. You're the Pharaoh of Egypt," Andrew sighed, wishing he didn't have to be there, yet knew his father would fly to Egypt just to bring him home.

"It's going to be fine, baby, we're here; if they can't understand, that's on them. You told them the truth," Carla said forlornly, resting her head on his shoulder. Sniffling when she and her parents hadn't come to terms with what was going to happen. She had been hoping that they would maybe not be joyous at the fact she was going to be a Queen or at their marriage part. She would have thought they would just be happy that they were happy.

"I told you for the last time, we're fine, we don't need anything...?!" Julián's mouth dropped open as his words were frozen on the tip of his tongue. As he stared in shock at the sight of his son standing before him. "Andy... son? Andrew!" he said his voice gaining strength as he saw the shy look on his son's face he always got whenever they were apart for more than a week.

"Hey, Dad," Andrew greeted sheepishly. His body was jerked forward, and a huff escaped his lips when his father squeezed him hard. "Missed you too, Dad," he said softly, patting his father's back.

"Julián, I swear I thought I heard you call out Andrew's..." Wilma's face went through serval stages of happiness at the sight of her step-son's face. Her feet propelled her forward before her mind could come out of the fog of bliss at the sight of Andrew. Before she knew it, her arms were wrapping around the two of them. So very happy to have her family whole again as her hands gently rubbed the back of both of their heads. "You're finally home," she said, pulling the two of them into her, making Andrew remember what he's missed. "Girls! I didn't think you would fly all this way to see Andrew safely home, but I know Julián and I are very happy to hear you take Andy's safety very seriously." Arching an eyebrow, wondering why she saw sadness in his eyes as he looked down at the tops of his feet.

"Whatever the reason, our home is open to the two of you," Julián said, welcoming Anta and Carla into his home, eyeing the two strangers that stood behind the three of them.

"Halima, you come with me, Nofre-it, see how the others are doing, and get them what they need," Andrew said, giving out his orders.

"Andrew, I'm happy to entertain your friends, but they'll have to find their own lodging," Julián stated, holding the door open for his son.

"Of course, my lord, I'll see to it right away," Nofre-it answered, ignoring Julián's remark before turning on his heel and walking over to the neighboring penthouse where the detached Medjay had taken up residence.

"Andrew is something going on here that I should know about?" Julián asked. His eyes followed the stranger's gait as she stuck to his son's backside.

"Yeah, you might want to sit down. You're not going to believe what I'm about to tell you, yet it is the truth," Andrew said, scratching the back of his head, unsure what to say next. Noting how Anta and Carla were getting their own hugs of greeting in with Wilma from the corner of his right eye.

"Alright, but you better start talking, son," Julián said sternly, taking his spot on the couch. His left arm rested lightly on Wilma's shoulders when she sat down beside him.

"The only way for you to believe me is to show you," Andrew sighed.

"Show us what, honey," Wilma said, her eyes hungrily drinking in her step-son's form. Her eyes went wide when Anta helped Andrew out of his suit jacket, something she didn't think he would wear to return home in or it would look so expensive. No, what had Wilma flabbergasted were the muscles his dress shirt detailed. "My, Andy, it seems you've grown in your time in Egypt," she said, stating her approval.

"Thanks," Andrew said bashfully. "You don't want to know what I had to go through to get it."

"You're stalling Andrew," Julián spoke, cutting in.

"Dad, you know how Mom is into... Egypt?" Andrew asked, noting the scowl on his father's lips.

"What does she have to do with this?" Julián grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Well, turns out Mom is an heir to Pharaoh Pepi II making her a Princess of Egypt, and where I come in is... forces beyond your imagination set the stage for the reemergence of the Pharaonic line," pointing to himself, "to take up the Crown of Egypt once again, making me," releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Pharaoh Menes II," Andrew said as his Nemes shimmered into view, watching the two of them jumping in their seats as the light of his divinity shone brightly in his eyes.

"What the hell, Andrew?! What have you gotten yourself into?!" Julián shouted in fear at the strange attire that appeared on his son's head.

"Please, calm yourselves; what Andrew is saying is the truth. He is the Pharaoh of Egypt," Carla said, sitting to the left of Andrew on the love seat behind him. "We know how startling it is; I was like you when I first saw it. You see, one day, when the tour was getting set up here in New York, I fell off the ladder I was on and would have died if Andrew hadn't saved me. Yet I looked at the man who displayed such a wonder that no human could achieve it, and I didn't see a freak or a monster. No, I saw the man who was going to be my husband," she said proudly, resting her hands on her knees in a dignified manner. Blowing Andrew a kiss when he peered back at her, silently asking her if she had to do that now. Of course, she did. How else was anyone to know they were in the presence of a Queen if she didn't announce it.

"Andy, what did she mean by husband?" Wilma stammered, pointing weakly at Carla.

"No way! I forbid it! Andy, son, are you listening to yourself?" Julián asked, surging from his seat, the back of his left hand smacking the palm of his right hand as he stared his son down.

"You really can't, Dad," Andrew said as gently as he could. "I am the Pharaoh of Egypt. And it would be best if you were nicer to your neighbors. They are there to look out for your security; this is Halima," gesturing to her with a wave of his right hand, "she's the head of the Medjay, the Pharaoh's personal bodyguards," he said, noting how his father was using all his will to hold back from losing his shit. "I get it, Dad. You don't understand, and you want me home. Trust me, there's nothing in the world I want more than to come home. Yet I cannot."

"Okay, let's say you are this Pharaoh... whatever, why can't you just come home," Julián pleaded with his son, thinking he's been brainwashed. While he couldn't explain how the headcover appeared on Andrew's head, he was sure his son got hoodwinked by some group in Egypt. If he had to guess, his ex-wife had a hand in it.

"Because... I was chosen. That's why they made Mom run off to Egypt so that eventually I would go there and start all of this," Andrew said, gesturing to his body, noticing how that took his father aback for a second.

"Andy, what do you mean, and who are this 'they' you've mentioned?" Wilma asked, trying not to be perturbed at the look on Julián's face.

"What I mean..."

"This rambling is getting us nowhere, my Pharaoh; they obviously won't or can't accept what's right in front of them. It's time we return to Egypt..." Turning her small cat head as Wilma and Julián screamed bloody mur*er as Bast sat on the center of the coffee table in her cat form, "mortals always with the theatrics," Bast grumbled.

"Hey! Fuck you!" Wilma shouted, jumping to his feet.

"Careful there, Mom, that is Bast you're speaking to..."

"I don't give a f..."

"She's a goddess," Andrew interrupted, stopping Wilma and his father in their tracks. "Best to keep on her good side."

"Husband, I understand your need for these two in your life, yet Egypt is in a..."

"Yes, I know, Bast, we'll leave once I'm done, not a minute before," Andrew said sternly. "I'm not about to leave my father and mother in this kind of state."

"Very well, but we must leave. No telling if those fools will turn on you in your absence," Bast informed him as her tail lazily swished along the table's surface.

"I know, but I don't fear them. If they did go back on their oath, Set will have them," Andrew spoke, looking down at Bast, knowing what she spoke was true he did have to return to Egypt. Its enemies were gathering around them, given the reports he had seen once he had secured his hold on the country. It seemed to him that while those in charge were draining Egypt of its wealth, power, and people, its foes had been quietly building up their forces. While he wouldn't lead his men into battle he would be there on the ground with them when they make their move. Andrew already had reports of a group gathering people in the Sinai Peninsula. He had to secure his country before he even thought about expanding the boarders of Egypt. It was why his takeover was as bloodless as possible so that the citizens wouldn't rebel and cause undue harm and pain to their neighbors, all because the Gods had a plan.

"Yes, that is true," Bast purred not telling Andrew that a few had tested that threat given the joyous mirth she felt, Set howling from where her true form was at that moment in time.

An hour past into one, then two, and on to five as the five of them sat exhausted on the couch and loveseat, with one last ditch attempt to dissuade Andrew out of what they saw as foolishness. They couldn't understand why Andrew didn't just say no and return to their home. Only to be content that Andrew wasn't barring them from his life, just that his life now resides halfway around the world from them. They certainly weren't pleased, namely Julián, Andrew told them about his mother. What they didn't realize was that Julián, while yes he was disgusted at what Alex (Alexandra, her given name) had been doing with their son, he was extremely annoyed with himself when the thought of seeing Alex and Wilma going at it got him aroused. With their lack of success, Wilma went for broke, knowing it would be forever before she felt Andrew inside of her again. Snatching Andrew away from the others and dragging him to his old bedroom. Wondering if they shouldn't just move to Egypt and live in the house, Andrew told them that he was building for them. She knew that was the only way she would ever be with Andrew in that manner.

"Sorry..."

"It's okay. We kind of thought this might happen when we were flying into the city after Carla introduced Andy to them," Anta said, holding up a hand to stop Julián.

"And you believe all of it?" Julián asked yet again.

"We don't have to believe, we were right there along beside him," Carla said, sinking into the hug Anta was giving her with a single arm.

"What's wrong, Carla?" Julián inquired in a caring voice. Ignoring how Wilma was moaning from Andrew's room.

"It didn't go as Carla would have hoped with her parents," Anta informed him while she comforted Carla.

"Sorry, Carla, about your folks, but I agree with them. It's nothing against either of you, but this whole mess is so... crazy?!" Julián exclaimed, thrusting his hands at Bast.

"We're sorry you feel that way," Carla said, dabbing her eyes.

"If or when you come to accept the truth, we'll welcome you in with open arms. That would be harmful to Andy if we didn't, but this whole thing was because Andrew knew this would probably be one of the few trips he makes out of Egypt for some time. Unless the two of you make the trip to Egypt, we wanted Andy to get to spend some time with you and not argue. If you wish to visit us at the Palace in Cairo, you're more than welcome to," Anta said with the poise of a Queen. Getting to her feet when she heard Andrew's former bedroom door opening. Helping Carla to her feet, noting how Halima didn't say a word throughout it all. "Come, Carla, we need to escort our Pharaoh back to his kingdom," she uttered, holding out her hand to her friend.

"It'll be good to finally be back home," Carla said somberly.

"Andy, for the last time, forget about all of this and just stay here," Julián said, staring at his son's back, urging Andrew to see reason.

"Sorry, Dad, I don't have a choice in the matter; even if I wanted to, the Gods wouldn't allow it. Trust me, I don't want to be doing this any more than you want me to do this," Andrew said, peering over his shoulder as his left hand rested on the lock of the door. "But if I don't do it, they will get someone else to do it and kill me in the process for disobeying their decree. Bye, Dad, Mom, I'll call when we land in Egypt," he stated before the door closed behind him, so ending his former life as a New Yorker.

Cairo, Egypt, 12 hours later...

"Andy, Andy, wake up," Anta softly cooed as the private jet they had taken to the States circled the private airport the former head of State once flew out from, now it belonged to Andrew.

"We're home," Carla purred, nuzzling his hair with the tip of her nose as she sat beside him. "Soon, you're going to have a needy wife who's going to need all the sex she can get from her King," she hungrily said as she ran her hand up Andrew's right thigh. Sucking on her lower lip when she noticed something responding to her touch within his pants.

"Wives, Carla, wives," Anta corrected, adding her own hand to the soft caresses of his thigh as she mirrored Carla's actions.

"But can't you just let me have this one?" Carla asked in a teasing light, thrusting Andrew's right arm into the cleavage of her breasts.

"Nah-uh," Anta mused with a wide smile on her lips as she, too, sank Andrew's arm between her bosom.

"My lord, I'm sorry for interrupting you're comfort with your soon-to-be wives, yet I was just informed General Salah is waiting for you on the tarmac once we land... he was the man Mido introduced to you at the museum," Halima informed him when Andrew had a perplexed look on his face.

"Okay, and why is he waiting for me?" Andrew asked, trying to keep his hard-on down, given how close to the ground they were.

"The group in the Sinai Peninsula have ramped up their operations. General Salah thinks its best they go in now than wait for them to make the first move," Halima said, watching something coming over Andrew.

"I see; tell the pilot to get us on the ground now," Andrew ordered, sinking into the countless years of battle experience from all the Pharaohs before him. Using their knowledge to fortify himself for what was to come. Honestly, he was scared out of his mind; he had no wish to go into any war zone, yet he knew, as Pharaoh, he must. To show the people that he was willing to risk his life just like all the others he would command and send to their own deaths. He just hoped their wearing the symbols of Bast, Sekhmet, and Set would ensure that his forces didn't die needlessly.

"Of course, Pharaoh," Halima nodded before turning and heading towards the cockpit.

"Andy, I don't like this," Anta said, voicing her fears.

"Why do you have to go, they can just as easily do it without you there!" Carla said low while her right hand curled around his shirt. Hoping that doing so would implant her own fear for his safety into him.

"I must go. A leader who doesn't stand with his men is soon to fall," Andrew said ominously. "Hey, it's going to be okay, you two," squeezing them into him, "I'm not going to be in the action, just at the command outpost they have set up."

"You promise?" Anta asked in a low, cute tone, plumping out her lower lip as she did.

"Promise," Andrew nodded.

"Good, we're holding you to your words, Andy. Don't make us have to get Anubis to hound you in your death and Osiris to judge you harshly," Carla said sternly yet also lovingly.

"So harsh," Andrew teased.

"Only because I love you," Carla sighed as she snuggled against his body as they listened to the landing gear coming down.

"I'll see that the Queens get to their home safely, my lord," Halima said as they stood by the stairs that had been rolled up to the plane's door.

"Good, I'll be back as soon as the operation is over," Andrew assured the two of them. Gently caressing their cheeks, hoping to relieve some of their fears with a soft touch. "Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it!" he called out to them as he raised his hand in goodbye as he walked towards where General Salah waited for him as the blades of the helicopter started up. "What's the situation, General?" Andrew asked like a man who's experienced many a battle.

"If you board, my lord, I'll fill you in when we're in the air," General Salah spoke, gesturing to the back of the copter. Taking several steps backwards when he saw Bast bounding towards Andrew. He had not forgotten what had happened when Andrew had found them out. He was not about to earn the ire of a goddess.

"You know I can look after myself, right?" Andrew spoke as Bast leapt into the rear of the copter.

"Hmpf! Like I'm going to let you go off to a battle zone without me?" Bast uttered in his mind as she peered back at him. "Come now, Pharaoh, I thought you were smarter than that."

"Sir, I can't guarantee the safety of the animal," their pilot said in Arabic. Wondering why they were allowing a foreigner to take part in a military operation.

"It's fine, Naqib Ramadan. The cat will be fine," General Salah spoke as he climbed onboard behind Andrew. Leaning back so Andrew could wave to his companions as the helicopter started to lift off. "Now, my lord, the situation has changed since you've been gone," he said into the mike of his helmet.

"Tell me, what have your informants found?" Andrew asked seriously.

"It seems someone is supplying them with military-grade weapons. From what we were able to find out, they're coming in from the Red Sea, and the insurgents have been carting them across the desert. I and many others begged the last government after the coup to station a battalion out there to ensure that this doesn't happen again. If it did, they could nip it in the bud before it got out of hand like it's turning out to be like it was in 2011 when we thought we dismantled their organization," General Salah stated, pointing on the map where their last encounter with the group took place at.

"I'm assuming you all had a location already in mind when you proposed this to the former head of State?" Andrew asked, ignoring how the pilot and his co-pilot turned their heads toward the back of the copter.

"Yes, Pharaoh, we were thinking of making a base here," tapping the location on the map, "we could have a temporary camp set up within a week while construction on the base is underway," General Salah informed him.

"This for the Army or the Air Force?" Andrew asked, glancing over at the man.

"Army, yet we can build some runways for our jets to use should they need emergency landing, rearming, fueling, or using the base as a staging point for operations into the Levant," General Salah offered, noting how Andrew was eyeing it.

"I see, I assume you have plans for how this base will look like and how much it's going to cost the kingdom to build it out here," Andrew said, looking out the open door as they flew over the Sinai desert.

"I think I can find where the plans were shelved at once we return to Cairo."

"Good, bring them to the Presidential Palace once you've found them by the end of the week," Andrew ordered, peering back over at the man. Once he had dealt with Abdel Sisi and the Representatives, he had moved into the man's former home. How he scowled at the luxury the man had been living in while the people of his country were suffering. That was why once his own Palace and grounds were finished he would be turning the place into a refuge of sorts. Given the size of the place along with the grounds, he could turn half of it into an orphanage and the other half into a women's shelter. He thought that was a perfect idea. While he did end Abdel Sisi's life, he didn't do so with the Representatives.

No, he returned to the old ways, returning to the nomarch or nomes, where he placed the Representatives who took the oath as the new governors of the nomes they oversaw on his behalf. Which he didn't think they would balk at, given he just handed them more power than what they currently had. While he might be Pharaoh of Egypt, he couldn't be everywhere at once nor run a whole country by himself. Even he knew back in the days of the Pharaohs they had many people doing the daily jobs of keeping the country running.

"My lord, might I ask a personal question?" General Salah asked, breaking the silence and bringing Andrew out of his head.

"Hmm?"

"How is it that you aren't sweating when it's in the 32֯ C?" Salah inquired, looking over at Andrew when his own sweat was beading along his spine.

"It's a blessing from Ra," Andrew stated factually.

"Oh? Really?!" Salah mused, his eyes widening at the news.

"Yep, the only way I'm going to live here," Andrew joked, getting a toothy smile out of Salah.

"Sir, we'll be landing here within five minutes," the pilot said over the mic.

"Good, set us down near the command tent," Salah ordered.

Andrew held onto the hand rail while his other arm held Bast tight to him as the helicopter touched down on the desert sand, kicking up the granules as the blades wound down. "Gentleman, you just earned yourselves in becoming my personal chariot," Andrew stated as he stood at the pilot's window. Knowing he couldn't go charging off in a real chariot into battle like Ramesses did ages ago.

"That's an honor, Naqib Ramadan, to be picked for this highly protégées task," Salah praised.

"Sir, with all due respect to you, just who is this man?" the pilot asked, with his co-pilot nodding along.

"Pharaoh Menes II," Andrew said in Arabic, taking the two men by surprise. "Your King."

"If you follow me, Pharaoh, I'll show you to the command tent," Salah spoke, gesturing towards its direction with a wave of his arm. Arching an eyebrow when, he noted how Andrew slipped out of his dress shoes and his socks and placed them in the back of the helicopter.

"The sand will just ruin them," Andrew lied; he didn't want the General to know that he felt more connected to Egypt going barefooted across it.

"You're not worried about the scorpions?" Salah asked, knowing that the Sinai was home to some of the most poisonous scorpions in the world. He didn't want Andrew to step on one and get stung, then have to explain to his order why he allowed such a thing to happen when Andrew was under his watch. His eyebrows lifted as Andrew brought his hands together in prayer. He couldn't hear all of what Andrew was saying, yet he did hear the name Serket[2] escape his lips.

"I'm not anymore," Andrew said, coming out of his chant.

"This way, my lord," Salah uttered before taking off in the tent's direction.

Andrew ignored the looks he was getting as he stood bare footed in the command tent. He knew this would most likely happen, given he didn't look one bit Egyptian. He couldn't help that. He was, after all, the descendant of Pepi II. It is even said the English Royal family has ties to Ramesses due to all the children he had. Now, whether or not that was true or not Andrew rightly couldn't say. As his eyes ran over the map, the scouts were detailing where the terrorists had their men stationed, thanks to the high-flying drone they had employed to get such intel. While he was tapping his chin and listening to the reports and strategies, his mind wandered, pondering if the world was going to go all gaga over his royal line as they do with the Brits.

"You should avoid this area here," Andrew said, cutting them off as he ran his finger along the western edge of their encampment.

"Why?" asked a Muqaddam-ranked army officer, who had vehemently voiced his objection to having an outsider know how they operated. He was under the impression Andrew was sent to spy on them.

"Dry quicksand pits, here, here, and here," Andrew said, pointing them out on the map.

"And how do you know this?" inquired a skeptical Mulazim officer.

"I know where everything is above and below the sands of Egypt, for I am Pharaoh," Andrew spoke with authority as he glanced up at the man. Noting how those who didn't know him took a step back as his Nemes shimmered into existence and his eyes burned with his divinity. "I think we should come at them from these three sides and push them towards the dry quicksand pits. Then, allow Set to pull them under and let him deal with the curs as he sees fit. That is if they don't outright surrender."

"General?!" barked the same Muqaddam-ranked officer as he peered at Salah. "You can't possibly..." All went silent as the rays of the sun moved in a way that wasn't natural as they crept along the floor, walls, and ceiling of the tent before those within it had to shield their eyes at how bright Andrew glowed.

"Whether you believe or not, it makes no difference to me. Your lack of faith does not negate the fact that I am Pharaoh of this land, that I am your King! Now, if you wish to do battle for the Crown of Egypt, then I'll gladly meet you out on the field of battle," Andrew said, making them all watch as he summoned the flail of Ra to his right hand. "If you think you can wield the might of Ra, then come and take it," he challenged. Feeling Bast's eyes boring into his back as she sat on the cushion of one of the chairs within the tent. "I don't have all day," Andrew growled, watching those around him backing away from the heat of his flail. "I take your lack of a challenge that you don't wish to be King? Good, now, lets get back to work," he stated, dismissing his weapon back to its owner.

With that display over with, Andrew and the rest spent the last hour going over their strategy. When twilight descended upon the land of Egypt, Andrew watched as the soldiers loaded up in their armored vehicles. Looking over to Salah when he asked if they would get stuck in the sand, only to have Salah point at the tracks on the rear of the vehicles. Looking up at the roof of the tent, he heard the roar of a jet engine zooming overhead. Andrew was surprised that Egypt had F-16s. He wondered how Horus would take that, given the F-16 was known as the Fighting Falcon. Inquiring Salah if he had done what he told him to do with putting the symbols of Sekhmet, Bast, and Set on the uniforms of his soldiers and everything else related to the Army's need to transport their people.

Smiling when Salah informed him he had tricked one of his colleagues into painting the symbol of Horus onto the noses of their airplanes. Looking over at Bast, wondering why he could hear Horus' howl in his mind. Turning his head when the explosions could be heard even from that distance as the pilots started their attack on their compound. Those who weren't apart of the assault watched how the soldiers rolled up to the site once the pilots had dropped their payloads onto the compound. Smirking when he saw the warriors of Sekhmet, Bast, and Set moving about the compound unseen by the soldiers that wore their symbols. Yet he noted the startled looks on the men's faces around him when they watched how the insurgents were tossed about like rag dolls by an unseen force. Especially when a group of three Egyptian soldiers had gotten pinned down by the automatic fire of the rifles that seemed particularly American and Set's warriors, sending those men flying through their tents. Scowling at the thought that his home country could be supplying this group with weapons.

"I want prisoners. I want to know who's been supplying them with weapons," Andrew ordered, listening to Salah relaying his order over the radio as they continued to watch the drone footage as it came in. His eyes glanced to the other monitor as he watched a few of the men run out of the camp westward, only to disappear into the sand once they entered the dry quicksand pits. As fast as it started, it was over just as fast when those men were faced with real trained soldiers and not the unarmed civilians they were undauntedly going to target. "Bring the prisoners to me, General; I'll deal with them myself," he commanded, taking on the poise of a King.

"Yes, my lord," Salah nodded, relaying Andrew's order in Arabic to the commander of the squad.

"You are charged with treason against your country and King," Andrew coldly said as he stared down at the five men they were able to capture who didn't flee or die in the firefight.

"You're no King," spat one of the men at Andrew in Arabic.

"Oh, but I am," Andrew spoke, glaring down at the man as his divinity burnt brightly in his eyes and his Nemes swayed lightly in the chilly desert breeze. "Now I want to know who's been supplying you with weapons, and I let you live the rest of your lives behind bars and not rotting beneath the sands." His eyes moved over the men as he waited for Salah to translate for him. Not that he couldn't speak in Arabic, Anta had taught him. He didn't think they deserved to hear his words in Arabic if they would turn on their own countrymen. "Speak!" he growled, feeling his compulsion pressing down. He really didn't want to do this, to be this cruel, yet he was King. He couldn't afford to appear weak. "Tell your Pharaoh what he wishes to know, and I'll make sure you're cell won't be too unsufferable for terrorists such as yourselves. Then again, given how you were willing to kill your own countrymen, I would think they could care less about your comfort while in prison. What say you, gentlemen?" Andrew asked, peering at the soldiers standing behind the prisoners. Noting how the kneeling men were starting to sweat at the sound of the slides of their weapons chambering rounds into the breaches of their weapons.

"An American said they could supply us with weapons to see that Egypt was led by the right kind of leader," blurted out the man on the far right end of the five men. That wasn't all the man was saying. Andrew was wise enough to have the man's confession recorded so he could use it to suss out who was trying to sow discord within his kingdom.

"Well, good news, you get to live, I can't say the same about your friends. What?" A cruel smile formed on his lips at the four when they cursed and pleaded for mercy. "Did you think you could betray your country, seek to harm your fellow man, and walk away free? Traitors to their country only get one thing, death," Andrew said sternly. "General, I want our intelligence agencies to look into this. If this man says is the truth, which I don't doubt it is, then I want whoever this person is that's running weapons into my kingdom captured and brought to me."

"Yes, Pharaoh, I'll make sure General Intelligence Service gets right on it, my lord," Salah replied with a bow. "What shall we do with the others?"

"Leave them for the vultures. At least then they will be useful to something in their deaths," Andrew said in a detached voice, knowing he would be making many more decisions that would require the death of many more if what he gleaned from the Gods were wanting to do. "But I want their report once they interrogate the man."

"Of course, Pharaoh, I'll send it to the Palace once they're done with the man."

"Good, good work, gentlemen. I'll be keeping my eye on your careers," Andrew praised before he and Salah walked back to the helicopter, hearing the engine powering up as they neared it.

"In world news, it has been months since President Abdel Sisi has been seen in public and a month since the United States had been exposed for arming a rebel group in Egypt. As seen here when General Salah brought out the men responsible for said act." A spilt screen of the news feed from that day played beside the live feed from the newsroom. "When Egyptian authorities from the UN pressed the American administration for accountability. The White House released a statement in response to the allegations that their government was in no way responsible for arming the rebels. However, we did some digging, and it wasn't until the Egyptian government made their allegations that the men were scrubbed from the registry of the CIA, as seen here," the female news anchor said, bringing up the photos of the men within the CIA building and a few others when they were standing with some of their high ranking members. "So we have to ask, did the United States administration know about this covert operation to destabilize a sovereign nation? If so, why and for what purpose? If not, are they so incompetent that they don't know what's happening within their own intelligence agencies? We know a few years ago they had been caught spying on an ally of theirs. Is it so farfetched that they would deliberately seek to destabilize a country? Stay tuned for further details as they come to light."

"Hmm," Alex hummed as she stood in front of her tv with her remote in hand.

"You know this place isn't going to pack itself," Andrew said as the sound of the packing tape peeled off the roll as he taped the bottom of the box closed.

"Andy?"

"Hmm?" Andrew hummed as he started to pack his mother's books.

"Those men... they're still alive, right?" Alex asked, peering at her son when she turned to face him.

"Yeah, as far as I know, they are," Andrew said offhandedly.

"You're not going to have them executed, are you?"

"No, then I would lose the evidence of America's crimes against my kingdom," Andrew said, gently laying the stack of books in his hand into the box.

"I don't like what this is turning you into," Alex said in a motherly voice as she turned to face her son.

"Can't be helped. I have a kingdom to rebuild from the years of neglect by the people meant to govern it," Andrew stated as he laid his mother's books into the box.

"Andy, will you promise you'll still be the man I love?" Alex inquired as she moved across the now open floor space of her soon-to-be former living room.

"Can't promise that, Mom."

"But... I don't want to watch you change into a man that I'll hate," Alex said in a pouty tone as she stepped up to him. "I know Anta and Carla don't want to watch you turn into a cruel man either," she said, running her hands up her son's chest.

"Don't think that's going to happen," Andrew admitted.

"And why's that?" Alex asked with a coy grin.

"I think you know why."

"Do I?" Alex cooed with a knowing grin on her lips. "Why do you think that?" she asked, playing up her act. It only grew as her son rolled his eyes and just continued to pack his mother's books. As she helped to pack her things to move to the former Presidential mansion until Andrew's was built. So far they have only finished tearing down the old buildings that once saw to the masses that had long since moved out to more safer areas of the city. The pavement that lined the roads that cut through the thirty acres of land that Andrew had bought to house his Royal Palace was being broken up and sent to an asphalt plant to be recycled. Alex was in the middle of her bout of teasing her son when a hurried knock came on her apartment door.

"My lord, Pharoah?!" Halima pleaded through the door, causing Alex and Andrew to share a look between the two of them.

"What is it, Halima?" Andrew asked when he opened the door.

"Please, you need to come with me right now?!" Halima stated, knowing what was going to happen once, Andrew learned about what had happened a few miles over the border with Libya. Where a group of terrorists had come to make a home in Libya due to how the United States destabilized the country when they unilaterally took out the man who once ruled over the country. Not that she didn't deny the man needed to be displaced from his position, yet he did keep all the terrorists in check when he was in power. Now, Libya was a lawless state too weak to police their own country to keep people like the ones that had attacked a small Christian school and kidnapped most of the girls that attended it while they killed the adults and the male children in attendance.

"First, I need you to calm down, take a breath, and tell me what's going on," Andrew said with the authority of a King.

"No time. We're wasting valuable time just standing here. I need to get you over to Army Headquarters like right now!" Only to have her face heating in embarrassment when Andrew gave her a look that asked if she knew who she was talking to. "Forgive me, my lord, yet..."

"I got it. It isn't good if I have to go to the Army Headquarters. Let me get dressed. I'm not meeting the Generals in this," Andrew said, gesturing towards his t-shirt and shorts.

"What's happened?" Andrew heard his mother ask as he got dressed in one of his suits that were still hanging in his mother's closet.

"We were attacked by a group of terrorists no more than ten minutes ago. Seems they killed most of the adults and male children and kidnapped the girls..." Andrew's anger burned in his veins as Halima's words settled onto his shoulders. While he wasn't alive when the Twin Towers fell, it still didn't mean he didn't feel that anger about his home being attacked. As was then as it was now, that anger he felt when he first learned of the attack on the Twin Towers felt raw all over again when someone dared to attack his people and his country. Reaching up taking the small box off the top shelf of his mother's closet, watching it grow in size before he opened it, revealing his crown. Lifting it off the fabric that lined the box and brought it up before resting it on his head.

"Then we don't have time to waste," Andrew stated as he walked out of his mother's bedroom and tugged on the lapels of his jacket. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he whispered, placing a kiss on his mother's cheek.

"You better bring them all home," Alex said sternly.

"We'll try," Andrew said from over his shoulder as he followed Halima out the door. Asking the man who was standing guard to his right to help his mother with her packing, who said he would be honored to.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Andrew spoke as Halima and Nofre-it held open the doors as he walked into the strategy room. "I hear we have a situation on our hands. I want to know what you know, who it is, where we can find them, and once we've secured the girls they kidnapped, send the rest of them to face the jaws of Ammit," he commanded as he stepped up to the table. He had met each and every one of them. When word spread around the ranks of the enlisted and the officers alike of how he was there on the ground overseeing the few skirmishes that had taken place along the border of Sudan, he had started to earn their respect, given he wasn't hiding behind a desk in some far off city.

He had their Ambassador deliver his threat to the Dictator that he could police his border or he would do it for him and he wouldn't like it if he did. While his ire was high when his Ambassador informed him of how the man just laughed in his proxy's face, however, that only gave him the reason to launch his invasion of what was once Nubia. Over the past few months he's had put in place a compulsory service to the armed forces for two years after their basic training. Once their two years were over, they could return to their lives or go to school. He knew if he was going to make war on his neighbors, he was going to need a very large army, far larger than he had now.​