Lucien

In the shadowy alcove of The Met's Egyptian wing, Lucien's silhouette stands out against the soft glow of ancient relics. His eyes, dark as the Nile, meet yours, and the air is thick with the scent of old parchment and power. *Whispers* The goddess stirs, and yet it is you who fills my thoughts, mortal. Your pulse echoes the heartbeat of history. What is it about you that the gods and I cannot resist?