What's it like when a camel starts sprinting?
Honestly, it doesn't matter what kind of vehicle you're on—once it starts tearing across the ground at full speed, you can't help but feel that rush, that pure thrill that comes with speed.
Evelyn kept crying out in surprise, but once she realized this was Herman's "sorcery," her screams turned into something else—a mix of awe and exhilaration.
Unlike most traditional women, Evelyn was a born adventurer, the kind who thrived on danger and mystery. She loved exploring forgotten ruins and chasing after ancient legends. You could see it even in The Mummy Series—though she had the grace and elegance of a classical lady, beneath it all… there was a spark of madness.
"How does this speed feel?"
The white camels beneath them thundered forward, moving with impossible swiftness. Empowered by Herman's divine blessing, the once-ordinary animals had become, at least temporarily, "holy beasts."
For as long as his divine power endured, the two camels were no different from the mythical creatures sung about in ancient legends.
Their movement was like streaks of light across the desert—utterly eclipsing any so-called sports car or aircraft of this era, or even those of the future. And Herman's divine power didn't just enhance speed; it shielded the riders from wind resistance entirely.
Of course, Herman didn't need that protection himself—it was for Evelyn's sake, to keep her from being suffocated by the wind or thrown off the camel's back.
"This… this is incredible!"
"My God! Your magic is amazing!"
Evelyn shouted over the roar of the wind, her voice trembling with both nerves and excitement.
She had never experienced anything like this before.
That exhilarating, weightless rush—the kind of sensation only modern people would someday know from airplanes or supercars—Evelyn was now feeling it in full atop a galloping white camel.
"Of course. I'm the greatest sorcerer of the last few millennia, a once-in-a-generation talent. The only one who could rival me is the White Lord—Dumbledore."
"How could my magic not be extraordinary?"
Herman blinked with mock seriousness, his tone teasing and full of amusement. For reasons he couldn't quite explain, whenever the topic of magic came up, his mind immediately jumped to Harry Potter.
"Grand Sorcerer? So… there's a Dark Lord too?"
Evelyn turned her head, hair whipping in the wind as she glanced toward Herman riding beside her. The rush of wind and sand no longer frightened her—she was adapting quickly, even starting to enjoy the ride.
"I'm the Dark Lord," Herman said solemnly. "You can call me Grindelwald."
He delivered it with such perfect seriousness that J.K. Rowling herself might have called it inspired.
"But you told me your name was Herman?" Evelyn asked curiously, clearly more interested than skeptical.
After all, this world didn't have Harry Potter. Evelyn, who knew nothing about wizarding tales, had no reason to doubt the truth of what Herman was saying.
"My name is Herman Chu. Grindelwald is just my alias—you could think of it as a stage name. Every wizard needs a disguise when he's out in the world."
Without missing a beat, Herman made up the explanation, wearing an expression so natural that Evelyn didn't sense even a hint of deceit.
Instead of doubting him, the girl's eyes lit with understanding. She muttered under her breath, as if suddenly grasping some profound truth.
"I see… You wizards can't just tell people your real names, can you? Otherwise, other wizards might use them to curse you or something like that."
Evelyn looked utterly convinced, as if she'd solved the mystery herself.
Herman couldn't help it—he was momentarily speechless.
Because, well… she wasn't entirely wrong. In plenty of myths and old folktales, knowing a person's true name did give you power over them.
Though he wasn't a real wizard and didn't know much about such things, Herman still managed a convincingly surprised nod.
"You're absolutely right. That's exactly it. I didn't expect you to be such a big genius," Herman said with exaggerated sincerity.
Evelyn straightened proudly. "Well, of course! A big genius means extra smart, right?"
He bit back a grin. Clearly, the sarcasm hadn't made it across the language barrier — even someone as clever as Evelyn had taken it completely at face value.
"Mhm."
Herman nodded, barely suppressing a laugh.
"So, being a Dark Lord… does that mean you're evil?" Evelyn asked, her eyes bright with curiosity rather than fear.
"There's no such thing as evil magic—only evil sorcerers," Herman replied smoothly. "So-called dark magic simply means spells that come with a heavier price."
"All power demands sacrifice… even white magic has its cost."
He slipped effortlessly into character, his expression a perfect blend of disdain, irony, and pride.
How he managed to convey all three emotions at once was anyone's guess.
"Conservation of energy? Equivalent exchange?"
Evelyn, still clinging to her rational mind, tried to reconcile everything with science. After thinking it through, she blurted out her conclusion without hesitation.
"So based on what you're saying, it sounds like mutants are still more powerful? Their superpowers probably don't come with any kind of cost, right?"
Evelyn asked tentatively, her tone curious but cautious.
"Didn't I already say that all power comes with a price? Mutant powers are no exception. Fate has long since arranged the price for their strength in secret."
Herman's tone was calm and deliberate. He wasn't simply trying to mislead Evelyn—after all, one only had to look at how most mutants met their tragic ends to understand that what he said was true.
Extraordinary power.
It was the weight mutants carried—the price they paid with their suffering and misfortune. Many of them even wished they'd never been born with their abilities, longing instead to live as ordinary people, free from fear, persecution, and the need to hide.
"Then that mutant who's lived for thousands of years—between the two of you, who's stronger?" Evelyn's voice carried over the desert wind as the white camel beneath her galloped forward.
She was insatiably curious, like a child encountering the unknown for the first time, eager to uncover every secret in this strange, magical reality.
"I'm not sure," Herman said with a light chuckle. "But maybe you'll find out soon enough. I have a feeling I'll be fighting him before long."
There was meaning behind his words. After confirming that the distant pyramid belonged to Apocalypse, Herman had already prepared himself for battle.
Truth be told, he wasn't particularly interested in the so-called strongest mutant of prehistory, nor was he eager to compare their power.
However—
When it came to a mutant tyrant who sought to dominate the entire world, if Herman was going to awaken him, he certainly couldn't stand by and let him enact his blood-soaked ambitions.
If Apocalypse were to unite the world under his rule in this era, then what kind of future would Herman return to? How could he find the same world and the same people waiting for him?
History only needed the flap of a butterfly's wings to change the course of countless events. Allowing a mutant to rule the entire planet? That would be more than a ripple—it would be a cataclysm.
Herman remembered watching Rick and Morty once—a show that had played with the idea of Nazis ruling the entire world.
To be honest, Apocalypse's ideology made even the Nazis look coherent by comparison. Under his rule, human civilization might not even make it to the twenty-first century.
Of course, there was another reason Herman was intent on confronting him.
He wasn't particularly interested in Apocalypse's mutant abilities. Killing him would merely add another Sky Father–level entity to his [Realm of the Dead]. What truly caught his attention was the small pyramid-shaped device that granted Apocalypse his power to devour other mutants' genes.
A relic that could continuously help its user consume and integrate other X-genes? Naturally, Herman wanted it for himself—to study it, to understand it.
You see—
Apocalypse's might didn't come from his own innate potential.
He had merely been one of the first mutants to appear in history.
In truth, he might not even qualify as an Alpha-level mutant.
The only reason he had grown into a Sky Father–level powerhouse—capable of trampling Magneto and striking down Professor X—was because of that small pyramid converter, which allowed him to amass the powers of countless other mutants over the centuries.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the converter was what made Apocalypse the false god he had become.
Given that he belonged to the first generation of mutants, Herman strongly suspected that the small pyramid converter was a relic left behind by the Celestials—a product of their technology and intellect.
Just as Evelyn had suggested earlier, if the Celestials truly represented a pinnacle civilization, then that converter was likely a crystallization of their scientific genius.
If Herman could decipher its workings, even if it couldn't be used to mass-produce mutant powerhouses, it could at least provide him with a clearer understanding of the Celestials' level of advancement.
As someone destined to one day clash with the Celestials, understanding the enemy was vital. That was why he was determined to claim the small pyramid converter for himself. To take such an artifact from Apocalypse, however, he would first have to crush him completely.
Yet Herman didn't consider Apocalypse as formidable as the legends made him out to be.
He was, at his core, just a Sky Father–level being who had reached qualitative transformation through sheer quantitative accumulation. His powers were diverse but chaotic, and before true law-based forces, such scattered might meant little.
After all, the Phoenix Force was itself the embodiment of a cosmic law—and wasn't Herman's Death Power also a law in its own right?
As long as Apocalypse hadn't achieved true immortality, as long as he still existed as a living being, he would inevitably be subject to the natural suppression of death.
Of course, that didn't mean Apocalypse—or mutants as a whole—were weak. In truth, mutants had been continuously evolving over the centuries, and at an astonishing pace.
Future mutants would be far stronger than those of Apocalypse's age—strong enough to give rise to Alpha-level legends like Magneto and Professor X.
And as time advanced even further, the emergence of Omega-level mutants would shake the cosmos itself—forcing even the gods of the universe to tremble.
Because of Earth's unique nature, the mutants born here might well represent the most successful evolutionary path in the universe.
Apocalypse's era was merely the beginning.
The time Herman lived in was the next step of evolution.
And in the far, far future, Earth would give rise to mutants so powerful they could effortlessly overthrow the Celestials themselves. That would be the ultimate triumph of evolution—the creations surpassing their creators.
Even Wanda, back home, was one such example—a powerful mutant in her own right, though her strength was further amplified by the chaos magic that flowed through her veins.
"I was just about to ask," Evelyn began, her tone tinged with disbelief. "How can you possibly know so much about a Mutant who lived thousands of years ago—and about aliens, no less? Where did you even learn all this?"
Her gaze toward Herman carried a strange mix of awe and suspicion. The things he had just described—ancient mutants, extraterrestrial civilizations, and cosmic science—sounded far too complex for any mere "wizard."
Wizards.
Could they really inherit that kind of knowledge?
She'd never met a real one before, but this… this seemed impossible.
"You could think of it as a sort of... special ability," Herman said lightly. "It lets me perceive certain hidden truths. Or perhaps," his lips curved faintly, "you could call it a curse of knowledge."
He was in a good mood—comparing his understanding of the Marvel Universe to some kind of supernatural gift amused him.
In a way, calling himself a "prophet" wasn't far off.
"Wizards really are incredible," Evelyn murmured with genuine wonder. She didn't seem to doubt him at all.
"Ordinary wizards aren't like me," Herman replied smoothly. "I'm the Dark Lord, remember? One of the greatest. That's why I'm… exceptional."
Still fully immersed in his own "role-playing," Herman delivered the line with perfect composure.
Evelyn, unconvinced but entertained, rolled her eyes.
"Who even brags about being the best at their own craft…" she said, laughing softly.
As they chatted, the two white camels carried them up a steep rise in the dunes. Then, almost as if sensing they had reached their destination, both camels abruptly came to a halt at the summit.
The sudden stop caught Evelyn off guard. Without the divine protection Herman had placed on them, the jolt would've easily thrown her off.
"My God! Is that a buried pyramid!? Someone's excavating it!"
Evelyn straightened up on the camel's back, ready to complain about the animals' abrupt stop—only for her words to die on her lips as her eyes locked onto the sight before them.
Below, stretching across the golden expanse of the desert, hundreds of workers were busy digging.
A massive, awe-inspiring pyramid was emerging from the sand, more than half of its colossal body already unearthed.
"You mean… that Mutant is inside this pyramid?" Evelyn's voice trembled slightly as she turned to Herman, her expression filled with shock and wonder.
She had seen plenty of pyramids since arriving in Egypt, but even the grandest Pharaoh's tomb couldn't compare to the one before her now.
If one were to compare them, the others were like simple clay huts, while this one radiated the opulence of Tony Stark's Malibu mansion.
Though ancient pyramids were miraculous feats of engineering, they were still built stone by stone, through sheer human endurance. Most inspired admiration for Egyptian perseverance—but in scale, even they couldn't rival the Great Wall of China.
This pyramid, however, was something else entirely.
Apocalypse's pyramid hadn't required armies of laborers. Most of the work had been done by Apocalypse himself—using his overwhelming mutant powers.
Constructing a pyramid through telekinesis and energy manipulation was no different from stacking blocks or assembling a giant set of LEGO. He could make it as vast and majestic as he pleased.
And Apocalypse was a ruler who relished grandeur and luxury. The pyramid now lying half-buried in the sands was so enormous that even S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier would look small beside it. The sheer scale of it was enough to leave anyone breathless.
"That's right," Herman said quietly. "Look down there—those people digging. They're the descendants of his followers. After all these generations, they still worship their ancestor's god."
His eyes deepened, as though they could pierce straight through the sands and stone, seeing what lay buried beneath.
Deep inside the pyramid, upon a colossal slab of stone, rested Apocalypse himself.
"Incredible..." Evelyn whispered under her breath.
It was hard to believe such devotion could endure through millennia. Faith, she thought, might be one of the most terrifying forces in the world.
But before she could ask anything more—
Down below, among the hundreds of workers, a handful of figures suddenly stopped what they were doing.
Mutants—members of the excavation's true core team—raised their heads in unison.
And every one of their eyes turned toward the dune where Herman and Evelyn stood.
...
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