Lord of the Desert!

"Our only chance for survival hinges upon the overthrow of the Supreme God and the commandeering of the solar essence!" echoed a raspy, ominous whisper, reverberating through the silence.

With a weary groan, Set's eyes fluttered open, burdened by an air of fatigue and a profound sense of defeat.

"Yet another cycle in this eternal slumber..." His voice was a mere murmur, laden with resignation as he inspected his own form.

A jagged fissure marred his celestial body, pulsating with the grim aura of decay, shadow, and death. Any mortal would have succumbed to such afflictions long ago, but he was no mere mortal; he was the deity of desert wilderness, albeit a god grappling with fragmented memories.

His gaze drifted away from his fractured form to survey his surroundings, the grand temple constructed from the grains of the endless desert. It stood as always, stark and barren save for the murals that adorned the dome overhead and the throne that awaited its ruler.

Beyond the confines of his sanctuary lay the vast, unending desert, a landscape Set had grown familiar with over decades, though familiarity bred no fondness.

"The God of the Desert need not love the barren sands," Set mused, his voice tinged with irony as he slumped into his sand-crafted throne, supporting his chin with a weary hand.

"Still no fellow deity has sought me out..." he lamented quietly before extending a finger into the air and uttering a single name, "Antis."

At his command, the static sand in the air coalesced rapidly, forming a sand avian that descended gracefully before him.

"Master!" it cried, bowing its head in reverence.

Set merely observed the creature, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, a sharp pang shot through his heart. Stoically, he watched as the sand bird disintegrated before him with a silent pop.

"Failed once more," he sighed, an expected outcome to an all too familiar experiment.

Memories of his past self surfaced, wounded, he had retreated to this temple to recuperate. Contrary to his expectations, his injuries had only worsened, prompting periods of deep sleep to stave off further decay. Trapped within this temple, tied to his throne, he had attempted to summon his servants, hoping to seek aid from the God of Life.

But giving life to a servant by bestowing a real name sapped his divine essence, exacerbating his condition. Thus, he was forced to forsake his creations to reclaim his dwindling power. Alone, he had hoped other gods might find him, but none had come, leaving him in desolate isolation.

Most vexing of all was Ra, the creator god, bearer of the solar power, who reigned supreme among the pantheon. The very source of life and the one whose overthrow might yet offer Set a sliver of hope or doom.

He sculpted the cosmos from chaos and floods, birthing both the world and its divine stewards.

Yet, as creation unfurled, from the primordial deluge emerged Apep, a vile serpent cloaked in shadow, whose malevolent presence swallowed the sun's brilliance.

With a heart full of darkness, death, and chaos, the demon serpent lunged at Ra, intent on extinguishing the newborn sun and unmaking the nascent world.

Though the fledgling deities rallied to defend their celestial realm, each was repelled by the monstrous force of Apep.

In this dire hour, Ra himself ascended to confront the darkness. A fierce battle ensued until at last, Apep fell, vanquished by Ra's might, allowing light to bathe the earth once more.

However, endowed with the relentless essence of death, Apep was not to be so easily eradicated. Time and again, he would rise, bringing forth darkness, only to be struck down by Ra.

In these recurrent battles, unlike those at the dawn of time, Ra would not stand alone; now, two principal gods lent their strength in the struggle against the serpent.

Yet, the lesser deities, both celestial and terrestrial, could offer no aid in these conflicts.

Among the vanguard was Set, aligned with Thoth, the god of wisdom, ready to assist Ra. Yet, during one such confrontation, disaster struck. Apep's venomous fangs pierced Set's heart, dealing him a grievous wound.

After the serpent's defeat, Ra, rather than tending to Set's injuries, journeyed on his celestial barque to the underworld, leaving Set in anguish.

Confiding in Thoth, Set withdrew to a temple deep within the desert sands to convalesce. But his condition deteriorated, chaining him to that solitary sanctuary.

Indifferent to Set's plight, Ra, whose powers could effortlessly mend such wounds, never intervened. This neglect bred resentment in both the original Set and his present incarnation.

Awakening from his recurring slumbers, the words echoing in Set's mind were always those of his former self: "It's a pity that I can't defeat him. The might of the Supreme God is beyond my reach..."

Lost in these reflections, Set's gaze was drawn to the desolate horizon, only to glimpse a figure approaching the temple.

Adorned with a throne-like crown, her black hair contrasted sharply against her red lips. She wore a dress of blue and white linen, and her neck was encircled by a Wesek collar of lapis lazuli, ruby, blue crystal, and gold. Her limbs were graced with gold rings, intricately engraved with lotus motifs.

Doubting his own senses, Set wondered if gods, too, could hallucinate.

Yet as the woman approached, her presence unmistakable, Set's heart quickened. "Little brother," she called, her voice resonant with divine energy.

"Sister Isis!" Set exclaimed, recognition dawning. He knew her, not just as a figment of his imagination, but as his sibling, through the memories he inherited.

To seek aid from Isis, the goddess of life, magic, and marriage, he bestowed life upon his servants. Set, desperate and weakened, found himself in dire need of his powerful kin, who included not only Isis but also his brother Osiris and sister Nephthys, born to the earth god Geb and the sky goddess Nut. This celestial lineage traced back to Shu and Tefnut, the original deities spawned by Ra.

Upon seeing Set so grievously wounded, Isis couldn't hide her concern, tinged with a hint of reproach. "Little brother, you are so injured, why haven't you called upon me for help?"

With a grimace, Set replied, "I yearned for your aid, sister, but my condition deteriorated so severely that I couldn't even bestow real names upon my servants to send for you."

Hearing this, Isis's face mirrored the distress in her heart. She produced a small pottery jar adorned with sun motifs and handed it to Set. "Little brother, this contains a gift from Ra, his blood, which holds the power to heal you."

"Ra's blood?" Set questioned, taken aback.

"Yes," Isis confirmed, nodding. "You've been absent for decades, not in your usual sanctuaries. Osiris, Nephthys, and I grew increasingly concerned about you. This year, after vanquishing Apep, I spoke to Ra. He sought you out and bestowed his blood upon you for your recovery."

Set examined the sun-patterned jar with mixed emotions. The divine essence within was potent enough to restore him fully, yet it came much delayed. "Thank you, sister," he said, accepting the jar.

"Focus on healing yourself," Isis urged, her worry palpable.

Set nodded and opened the jar, from which a burst of golden radiance emanated. After the glow subsided, he extracted a single drop of golden blood, shimmering with a searing, sun-like force.

Holding it in his hand, he felt its overwhelming heat. Entranced briefly by its power, Set then consumed the divine blood. Instantly, crimson glyphs ignited across his skin, converging towards his heart.

As they did, the wound in his heart transformed, sprouting black scales that carried the stench of decay, scales that slowly morphed into the shape of a sinister, coiling serpent.

Isis, watching anxiously, furrowed her brow as her worry deepened for her brother's unsettling transformation.