Beneath the sprawling branches of an ancient fig tree on the verdant grassland, the air thrummed with the pulse of unseen forces. Sekhmet, her presence as commanding as the sun, retrieved her Ankh and paused at the threshold of the Gate of God. Her gaze fell upon Bastet, who lay nearby, her form akin to a sleek black cat stretched lazily in the shade.
"Are you truly not planning to return to Heliopolis with me?" Sekhmet's voice, deep and resonant, broke the tranquility.
With a nod, Bastet's golden eyes glinted with mischief. "I have unfinished business here," she declared, her tail flicking with an air of defiance. "Besides, Heliopolis has grown dull, devoid of any thrill. Those gods do nothing but bicker over sand and storms."