((Just a quick note, this takes place after the 2nd Mummy movie))

Air, fresh and untainted by the stench of rotting souls, filled his lungs. His bare chest rose, a long withered wail leaving his chapped lips. Imhotep's eyes opened, but only a small fraction, as the large desert sun starred down at him, burning his skin and bringing pain to his eyes. Rolling onto his side, the hot sand sticking to his sweaty skin, the tall Egyptian pushed himself to his feet only to fall to his knees. The immortal was drained, his energy fleeing him.

Bringing a hand to his head, he looked around him and saw nothing but sand, endless waves of heat rising from the desert to boil him from below. But even the familiar heat of Egypt did not amount to the fires of Hell that he had-

Imhotep's eyes widened upon the realization of where he really was. The surface. Out of the scorching heat of the Underworld. He fell forward, his hands digging into the sand as if he were trying to ground himself to the reality that he was free. He remembered the scalding heat that surrounded him, the thin, claw like fingers of the souls that tore at his flesh. He looked down at his arms, as if expecting to see white scars lining his body, only to see the golden flawless skin that had dawned him before his ventures into Hell.

The very memory of the place shook him, causing him to block out the memories to focus on centering his energy on standing on his own two feet. A few minutes, countless breaths of hot Egyptian air, and he stood, looking around him once more. Alive. That was what he was, and that was all that mattered. If possible, a small smile seemed to dawn his broken lips only to be replaced by a concentrated and confused frown moments later.

He had not felt mortal exhaustion since his days in the Pharaoh's house all those centuries ago. If he was feeling as lifeless and tired as he did, then…his powers, were they extinguished? Stretching out his hand, Imhotep closed his eyes, breathing in the sand landscape, focusing his mind and soul. The sand around him spun, the flakes of sand skittering across the desert ground, scratching his feet until they took flight around him, forming a large tunnel. His hand dropped, the sand falling in showers around him. He shook, feeling like the world was spinning, but he breathed a breath of relief.

Not powerless, but worn. It made some sense. One did not simply leave the Underworld without some repercussions. As for being immortal, that was one question that he himself could not answer or test. He turned his gaze out to the shimmering desert horizon. It was time that he set out on his journey. Cairo would not be far. From his last visit to this time he had gathered some information on where the ancient cities resided and where the new ones were born. How much time had passed since his damnation into Hell, he did not know. Closing his eyes once more, Imhotep allowed the land to speak to him, letting it guide him towards where he wished to go.

It had only been a few minutes since his arrival to the surface and his energy was already building up. In only a few seconds, he would be able to travel at the speed of the Gods. And all very well, he would not be able to tolerate the pain staking slowness of traveling by foot. As if a 'man' such as himself would travel like the pests that littered the earth. He was Imhotep, he was High Priest, he was…someone else's servant for the time being. Thoughts of his time in the fiery pit crept back into his mind, making his skin crawl. No, no he would not dwell on it. He would fulfill his quest. And perhaps along the way, he would meet the O'Connell man and woman. There was little he did not think of doing to them. Plans shattered repeatedly by the cursed mortals. But not this time. He had superiors to answer to this time. And what consequences he thought were dire before, were now magnified ten-fold.

Imhotep closed his eyes once more, turning his attention to finding Cairo. There was nothing in his contract that suggested that he would be subtle in his dealings. He would bring whatever plagues he could, whatever foul disasters, anything to announce his arrival. He would remind the people of Egypt who he was, and take pleasure in his revenge.