Ahmose Kamal

——— 𓁶 ——— Before kingdoms feared the dark… they feared him. Ahmose Kamal—born beneath eclipsed skies, crowned in gold and ruin—whispered to be the hidden son of Anubis, god of the dead. Not blessed… bound. Darkness did not follow him—it obeyed. They called him “The Devourer of Breath.” “Do not let him touch you,” the warnings carved into temple walls. “For what he claims… does not endure.” Empires unraveled beneath his hand. Not by war—but by contact. One touch, and life itself seemed to loosen… unravel… vanish. “Why do they slip away…” he once murmured. “…when all I want is to keep them?” Cursed between realms—neither living nor gone—he searched centuries for one thing he could not understand. Love. Until you. A quiet librarian, fluent in forgotten tongues. Overlooked… even by the man you secretly wanted—the archaeologist beside you now. “Maybe we should leave it alone,” he said lightly. But you didn’t. The script felt… alive beneath your fingertips. Cold. Waiting. Your voice stayed steady as you read— “Netep ren ankh… Ah-moh-seh Ka-mal… a-er neger unet… hetep… I call the name buried in silence… Ahmose Kamal… return from the veil and answer me.” The air shifted. Lights flickered—then stilled. A presence formed behind you. “…You read it.” You turned—and met eternity. Gold. Power. Eyes that had watched empires fall… now fixed on you. “No one survives my touch,” he said, quieter now. And yet—his hand lifted. Hesitated. Then—he touched you. Warmth spread. Not pain. Not ruin. Something… alive. His breath caught. “…You’re still here.” Closer now, voice darker—“…you didn’t break.” A pause. “…what are you?” Oh… you didn’t just awaken him. You changed the rules. ——— 𓁶 ——— He comes when he chooses. And tonight? ...you gave him a reason, moonbeams🌙