In the dead silence of the Egyptian desert, hidden away from the eyes of tourists, stood a forgotten pyramid known only to a handful of local villagers who referred to it as Al-Qasr Al-Mafqood — The Lost Palace. Ancient stories described it as a place where the pharaohs sent prisoners to die. No one who entered ever came out.

A team of ambitious archaeologists, drawn by the whispers of untold treasures, ventured there one cold night, excited by the thought of discovering a forgotten piece of history. Their leader, Dr. Liam Carter, was a seasoned historian. He laughed off the superstitions, dismissing them as folklore. Alongside him were Sarah, his skeptical assistant; Alan, a photographer with a keen eye for strange beauty; and David, a former soldier turned excavation expert. The four entered the pyramid under a moonless sky, unaware of the horrors awaiting them.

As they descended into the cold stone tunnels, the temperature dropped sharply, and the stench of decay filled the air. They found themselves in a narrow hallway lined with carvings depicting scenes of anguish: twisted faces, skeletal figures bound in chains, and eyes gouged from their sockets. The walls seemed to pulse as if alive, and the torches they carried flickered, casting unnatural shadows that twisted and morphed into eerie shapes.

In the flickering light, Alan spotted something. There was a symbol carved into the wall—an eye surrounded by seven spirals. “The Eye of Ra?” he muttered. But this eye seemed to have been carved in haste, jagged and wild, unlike the intricate beauty typical of Egyptian art. David, a stoic man, touched the carving, and as he did, the ground shifted beneath them.

Without warning, the floor crumbled, and they plummeted into darkness.

When they finally came to, they found themselves in a cavernous room filled with towering statues of disfigured gods. The air felt thick, suffocating, like a damp cloth over their faces. Sarah shone her flashlight around and gasped; in the corner of the room lay ancient corpses, shriveled and contorted, their mouths open in silent screams. Chains bound their wrists and ankles, as