Really, what did the people of Earth have to lose? Our atmosphere was doomed to go up in smoke in less than a decade anyway, and not even the Nibiru Society had any alternative solutions. So in truth, Queen Xora’s “eternal salvation” was the only shot in the dark we had. Although plenty of naysaying zealots had traveled to Giza that fateful day in P. C. 213, most of us couldn’t be bothered to even pay them a glance, much less read their hastily-scrawled protest signs.

I, however, have always been drawn to that which others cast aside. I read many of the signs that day, but the only one which still lingers in my mind was this:

“Daniel 12:2 — And many of those who sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt.”

At the time, heeding the guidance of an alien queen over that of a sign-waving zealot seemed as intuitive as breathing. What would the sign-bearer have me do, curl up in the ashes of Earth and wait for Jesus to descend from the stars, when Xora herself already had? The idea filled me with amusement in the moment, but in the present, I would give anything to have taken the protestor’s warning seriously.

By the time I pushed my way past the protests, and the riots, and the collapsed bodies in the blood-drenched sands, King Mafhuten had already emerged from his jewel-encrusted sarcophagus and begun strolling through the crowd. Those who struck at him were quickly subdued by the Elgorians and their photon whips, who followed as loyal dogs in his footsteps. Some fainted, some vomited, and some even ran screaming from his blazing golden eyes and long, black tongue.

Queen Xora, ever the ringleader, remained behind the podium as her followers led the long-dead Pharaoh through the sea of faces. A massive hologram bearing her image in real-time was projected behind her, towering far above the pyramids themselves.

Giza (Image courtesy of Pixabay)

“Those among you who will deny the glory of Reverse Necrosis, hear my words and be cursed!” Her voice boomed off the distant skyscrapers, and distorted itself into a blood-chilling shriek before it reached the ears of the crowd.

“Behold, the image of Mafhuten before I cast my all-seeing gaze upon him!” Xora screamed, summoning the leathery, rotten face of the mummified king upon the hologram. The collective moans of the crowd rumbled through my eardrums, but quickly died down when the second image of the revived Pharaoh flashed onto the screen.

“Behold, Mafhuten, Eternal King of Giza!”

Mafhuten did not trouble himself to walk, but rather glided above the throngs of men, leaving nothing but terror and admiration in his wake. Although the skin of his face was still stretched with unnatural tightness and faded to green, it possessed an unearthly quality of refreshment and vitality. When he grinned at the legions who came to view his resurrection, his teeth were still rotten with a thousand years of decay — but somehow, the way his time-blackened tongue glided over the festering surfaces was beautiful instead of stomach-turning.

When Mafhuten drifted past my segment of the crowd, I wasn’t one of the fools who collapsed to my knees and cried. I only stared in unbroken reverence as he beckoned to me with his long, spidery fingers. The bandages that bound him for over 2,000 years were still woven between his fingertips, but the glow emanating from the skin beneath was simply ethereal.

All it took was one glimpse into his eyes, where the fear of the starless infinity of death had been dissolved completely — in that moment, I knew that although I never believed in God, or Allah, or any of their consorts, I believed in Xora.

I was only half-listening as the queen described the limitless capabilities of the Silurian Photon Drive, and suggested that its gateways be erected in every nation of the Earth immediately. My soul, seduced by the glory of Mafhuten, had no need for convincing.

“Those among you who choose to die by your own hands will awaken in a kingdom of pleasure and resplendence. No corpse that falls in the realms of men will be left unturned, and no soul will be forgotten.”

Within moments, glorious Mafhuten was swallowed up by the crowd. But his eyes, and their complete absence of man’s cursed fear of death, lingers in my mind to this very day.

“And although nothing but infinite serenity waits for you in the arms of Death, we realize that by the weak and fragile human nature, some of you will never find the courage to take the plunge. Relinquish your fear, and accept the glory of the Elgorians into your hearts — by passing through the Charm Quark Gateways from which we emerged, you can still achieve immortality while circumventing the need for death completely.”

The sheep amongst the crowd emitted soft, frail grunts of pleasure in heart-curdling unison.

“Through the Charm Quark Gateways, humanity will travel to the edge of the universe and back! The Silurian Photon Drive will allow mankind to share Mafhuten’s glory without the pain or fear of death! By traveling through the gateways to the end of time, the need for a violent end will be circumvented — and the Earth you return to will not be the same one that will go up in flames in six years! It will be a land of prosperity, and freedom, and eternal life, where the sorrow of the old Earth has been forgotten for a thousand years!”

“Although natural Death is a far quicker solution, and will allow you to achieve immortality much faster than traveling through the gateways, we realize this option will be far more appealing to your basic instincts. The Silurian Photo Drive will take you on a journey to the beginning of the world and the end of all things, and the time dilation you experience will be indescribable both in human and Elgorian terms. If your fear of death is strong enough to choose this method of ascension instead, then we’ll be waiting.”

They were waiting, all right . . . In every country, in every city, in every state. Xora, and Mafhuten — and soon, Hatshepsut, and Axayacatl, and Lenin, and every other dead king of the Earth who hadn’t rotted to an unrecognizable pile of dust and bones.