Even after thousands of years, the stone carvings and murals within the Apocalypse Pyramid remained vividly lifelike, untouched by the erosion of time—as though being buried beneath the desert sands had somehow shielded them from decay.
Evelyn followed closely behind Herman, her eyes wide with awe as she took in the sights. Every few steps, she couldn't help but gasp in amazement at the ancient wonders surrounding her.
What truly left her speechless were the strange statues lining the corridor—each holding a blazing brazier. The flames burned bright and steady, despite having supposedly lasted for millennia. The sheer impossibility of it made her feel as if she were walking through myth itself.
"This is unbelievable! I've never seen a pyramid so perfectly preserved. Was this really built thousands of years ago?"
The murals and decorations looked almost new, and Evelyn simply couldn't understand how the structure had escaped the wear of time. Could it really be that the desert's sands had preserved it so completely?
"Maybe it's the ability of that mutant—something that keeps everything frozen in time. Who knows?" Herman said offhandedly. The place did feel unnaturally pristine, even to him.
Take the pigments on the murals, for instance.
After so many centuries sealed away, the colors should have long since faded once the air reached them again. Yet the murals still glowed with vibrant hues, as though painted yesterday.
If the ancient Egyptians had possessed such a pigment formula, Apocalypse couldn't have been the only one to use it. Other pharaohs' tombs would've been decorated just the same.
"There are superpowers like that?" Evelyn murmured, realizing her imagination barely scratched the surface of what was possible.
"Randomness is the defining trait of genetic mutation," Herman replied. "It comes with infinite possibilities."
As they continued deeper into the pyramid, Herman led the way with confidence. His enhanced vision allowed him to see through the stone and navigate effortlessly—he already knew exactly where Apocalypse's resting place was.
"There's no way forward," Evelyn said at last.
Herman had brought her to what appeared to be a dead end—a thick, solid wall of stone with no visible passage.
"I thought you said you knew this place well," she said, eyeing him with suspicion.
"I do," Herman replied lightly. "This is just a shortcut."
He stepped closer to the massive stone wall, brushing his hand across its rough surface as if studying it.
"A shortcut? I don't see any shortcut," Evelyn muttered, moving beside him. "Could there be some kind of mechanism here? I know the ancient Egyptians loved setting traps in pyramids to keep out intruders who disturbed the pharaohs' rest. Some of those traps were incredibly dangerous—lethal, even!"
Her voice quickened with excitement as she continued, "The most infamous one was in that legendary pharaoh's tomb—the slow-acting poison gas that supposedly killed every archaeologist who entered!"
"If there really is a trap here, we should probably be extra caref—"
She never got to finish.
The ground trembled beneath her feet, and Evelyn immediately froze. With a startled cry, she clamped her hands over her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
"An earthquake!?"
Her heart raced as she heard the deafening sound of something heavy collapsing nearby.
"You really scare easily."
Herman dusted his hands off casually.
When Evelyn dared to open one eye—then the other—she stood frozen in disbelief. The massive stone wall in front of them had been completely knocked over.
That wall had been five or six meters tall and several meters thick—an immovable slab of rock. Yet it now lay shattered before her, as if swatted aside by an invisible hand.
"My god! You… you're sure you're a wizard?!" Evelyn stared at him, her face pale and her expression torn between shock and confusion.
She had already seen him slaughter an entire group of mutants without hesitation, but somehow, watching him casually topple a wall this massive felt even more unreal.
"As a wizard, being a bit stronger physically is normal, isn't it?" Herman said with a grin, stepping onto the fallen stones.
He reached down and pulled Evelyn up beside him, helping her clamber over the debris. The wall was indeed thick and heavy—but to Herman, it might as well have been made of clay.
"..."
Evelyn was completely speechless.
In her understanding, wizards were supposed to be frail, bookish types—not muscle-bound juggernauts who could demolish pyramids.
Could it be that the world had gotten wizards completely wrong?
"I'm just an ordinary person—don't try to fool me!" Evelyn's voice trembled slightly, though her eyes, bright as glass, stayed locked on Herman.
"Earthlings don't lie to Earthlings."
Herman gave her a solemn blink. "You see, wizards receive proper education from a young age. The elder wizards always teach the apprentices one vital truth—only a strong body can survive long enough to cast magic. That's why wizards train relentlessly to build strength and improve their defenses."
He said it with such conviction that Evelyn was left staring at him for several seconds, utterly stunned.
"Wait, so… you don't actually study magic?"
The idea of wizards having an entire education system was shocking enough, but the thought of them spending all that time lifting weights instead of learning spells was downright baffling. Were these really wizards? Then again… the logic that "you have to stay alive to cast magic" did make a strange sort of sense.
"Young wizards usually just learn a basic Light spell and how to dual-wield weapons," Herman continued seriously. "After that, it's all about training strength like your life depends on it."
He was, of course, making it all up.
The corridor ahead grew darker—no more torch-bearing statues illuminated their path. It felt like they had stepped into one of the pyramid's hidden chambers.
To help Evelyn see, Herman casually raised his hand. A soft golden light bloomed in his palm, spreading a warm radiance that pushed back the shadows.
The hazy yet brilliant glow left Evelyn completely awestruck. The cold air that had filled the chamber now felt almost comfortably warm.
"This… this is that Light spell you mentioned? You can actually conjure a ball of light?" she asked, eyes wide with wonder. Not for a moment did she doubt his explanation.
After all, the light itself seemed like proof. To someone with no knowledge of magic, it was only natural to believe.
"This is a Master-level Illumination Spell," Herman said, his tone grave. "It takes at least ten years of daily training to achieve light of this quality."
In truth, the glow in his hand wasn't any sort of magic—it was the radiance of Divine Fire. Using Divine Fire as a flashlight was absurdly extravagant, and Herman was probably the only person in existence who'd ever done it.
Divine Fire—how could the quality not be high?
To even cast such "magic," one would need to start at godhood.
"I honestly don't know if I should believe you. It sounds too ridiculous," Evelyn muttered. She sensed something was off but couldn't put her finger on it. Without any knowledge of the supernatural world, she couldn't tell fact from fiction.
"Believe me or not, but I think you could take what I've told you and write a story—The Dark Lord and the Supreme Ring, maybe?" Herman said with a teasing smile as he stopped before a massive statue in the pitch-black corridor.
He studied it for a moment.
"Is there something wrong here?" Evelyn asked, looking up. It didn't take her long to recognize the figure—it was Ra, the supreme Egyptian sun god.
"It's an entrance," Herman said. "There's a mechanism. Set it correctly, and it opens."
His eyes flickered as he peered through the statue's structure, analyzing the internal workings.
"Are these chessboard-like things part of the mechanism?" Evelyn leaned closer and found a 16x16 grid carved into the statue's pedestal, filled with dozens of tiny animal figures.
It looked like some sort of puzzle—each piece probably needed to be moved into the correct spot.
"Maybe I can solve it," Evelyn said eagerly, staring at the grid. "I think it's about time I proved I'm useful."
"Or," Herman said lightly, "we could try a much simpler method."
"What?" Evelyn looked up, startled.
Before she could even blink, Herman brought the glowing orb in his hand close to the statue of Ra.
Then it happened.
The colossal, twenty-meter-tall statue erupted into black ash in an instant, collapsing silently into dust.
The sheer intensity of it made Evelyn's knees weaken. She could hardly breathe. "You… that light… what is that!?"
She couldn't even begin to imagine how hot it must have been—to turn solid stone into ash in the blink of an eye.
"Told you—it's a Master-level Illumination Spell. Master-level means it's on another level entirely," Herman said with a casual laugh.
As the ashes settled, his gaze shifted to where the statue had once stood. Beneath it was now a gaping hole—about two meters wide, plunging into darkness.
Of course, "bottomless" only applied to Evelyn. Herman had already seen through it long before entering the pyramid.
A rope ladder, woven from thick hemp, hung from the edge, reaching down dozens of meters into the debris-strewn depths below.
Back when Apocalypse attempted his body transfer ritual inside the pyramid, guards and commoners had revolted, heavily damaging the chamber. The rope ladder's presence now was thanks entirely to the Apocalypse followers who had entered before them.
"Ready?" Herman asked suddenly.
"Ready for what? Climbing that ancient rope ladder that's been hanging there for who knows how long?" Evelyn asked nervously, peering into the darkness below.
"Well," Herman said, "there is a safer way."
Before she could ask what he meant, he scooped her into his arms and jumped straight into the pit.
A heavy thud echoed as they landed solidly at the bottom.
The impact from the dozens of meters of freefall sent dust and gravel exploding outward, filling the chamber with swirling sand.
"Cough, cough!"
Evelyn doubled over, coughing violently before shouting in outrage, "Are you kidding me!? This is what you call a safe way!?"
To her, that had felt no different from jumping off a building.
"Just answer the question—are you hurt?"
Herman raised an eyebrow, looking down at Evelyn, who was still cradled securely in his arms in a princess carry.
"Huh?"
Only then did Evelyn realize the position she was in. Flustered, she wriggled free, landing on her feet before quickly fanning away the dust around her. "Is that really what we're worried about right now? I nearly died of fright!"
Though still a bit shaken, she glanced upward and couldn't help but marvel again at Herman's physical prowess.
He had jumped down from such a ridiculous height—while carrying her—and landed without so much as a scratch. That was… completely beyond reason.
Then again, she thought wryly, reason and science have both died at least ten times today already.
At this point, she was almost getting used to it. In fact, an absurd thought crept into her mind—maybe this kind of insanity was normal now.
"What am I even thinking? That's insane," she muttered, shaking her head to banish the ridiculous notion.
She forced herself to stop questioning things that broke her scientific worldview—but that only made her mind wander to something else entirely.
The feeling of being held in Herman's arms.
It had been warm. Steady. Safe.
Her face instantly turned crimson, her heart skipping as she realized what she was remembering.
"What are you standing there for? This way."
Herman's voice snapped her out of it. Evelyn jumped, scrambling after him.
"Coming! I'm coming!"
She jogged to catch up, her tone slightly flustered. The bottom of the pyramid was nothing like the outer chambers.
The murals were cracked and faded, the sculptures shattered beyond repair. The rebellion that had once taken place here had left the place a ruin.
"So this is the strongest mutant you mentioned?" Even the broken statues left Evelyn speechless in awe. She couldn't tell exactly who they depicted, only that every one of them shared the same likeness.
"Apocalypse was the strongest mutant of the ancient world," Herman replied evenly. "Not the strongest mutant, period. But he did like to call himself the one true god."
There was a faint trace of mockery in his voice.
In Herman's eyes, Apocalypse was the very definition of a frog in a well. If the so-called god truly understood how vast the universe was, he would never have dared to make such a ridiculous claim.
After all, in the grand hierarchy of existence, Apocalypse didn't even compare to the Asgardians—let alone the cosmic entities beyond them. He was just an ant that had never even brushed against the true laws of the cosmos.
Calling Apocalypse a frog in a well wasn't an insult—it was an accurate description.
Even beings who transcended godhood didn't dare to call themselves the one true god. In the Marvel universe, perhaps only the One-Above-All itself had the right to say such a thing.
"Well, either way," Evelyn murmured, "they'd all crush me like a bug just the same, wouldn't they?"
Her gaze wandered across the wreckage, a sense of regret welling inside her.
Had this place not been destroyed, it would have been a world-shattering archaeological discovery. Towering statues—ten meters high or more—lined the hall. Even in their ruined state, she could still see the intricate craftsmanship that had gone into them.
This wasn't something ancient Egyptians could have achieved. She could only guess that the mutant who had once slept here had shaped these wonders through his own powers.
After all, they were god knows how deep beneath the earth.
By normal means… it would be impossible not only to carve but even to transport stone blocks of this scale down here.
"Well, when it comes to strength, maybe even an ordinary person could crush you easily," Herman said dryly.
Evelyn froze, at a loss for words.
Okay, fair. She really couldn't fight to save her life.
She wanted to argue but found nothing to say—lying about her combat ability would have been too shameless even for her.
"Anyway," she muttered, quickly changing the subject, "this place is incredible. I really regret not bringing a camera."
"Even if you took pictures, they'd be confiscated the moment you got back. You'd probably get dragged into some government mess for it, too."
Herman moved steadily through the debris-strewn ruins. The floor was littered with rocks and rubble, but none of it hindered his steps—or Evelyn's.
With each stride, an invisible force swept the stones aside, clearing a smooth path before them.
Evelyn could only stare, wide-eyed and amazed once again.
"Just how many impossible things can you do?" she asked breathlessly.
"Not as many as the guy sleeping inside," Herman replied, stopping before the entrance to a vast chamber.
What should have been pitch-black was instead flickering with faint flames.
And from within came the sound of chanting.
Devout voices echoed through the darkness—followers of Apocalypse, praying feverishly, invoking the name of their god as they performed a strange and ancient ritual... trying to awaken their great master.