Nephthys Conspiracy!

Initially, Apep's breath was faint and barely perceptible.

At first, Set did not notice anything unusual, but suddenly, a burst of fiery energy surged within him. It was the residual power from a drop of blood that Ra had once bestowed upon him, enabling Set to detect the subtle scent of Apep lingering in the wine.

The wine carried the trace of Apep, yet Nephthys appeared untainted; her divine essence remained pure, free from any corruption. Concerned, Set approached Nephthys to inquire about the wine's origin.

"Could Nephthys harbor a grudge so deep it turned to hatred? Was she plotting his demise?" Set pondered. Yet, he knew the trace of Apep in the wine was too insubstantial to harm him, let alone pose a serious threat.

Still, the presence of Apep's essence was not the crux of the matter.

Set was on the verge of revealing the contamination to those gathered, but a strong intuition, a warrior's instinct, urged him to withhold the information. His instincts had never led him astray.

Choosing prudence over confrontation, Set withdrew from the immediate dilemma to contemplate his next steps. Should he alert Ra? He quickly dismissed the idea. Without the wine as evidence, there was nothing concrete to show.

Isis, however, must be informed. She would understand the implications and could strategize a response.

Even after deciding on a course of action, Set remained uneasy. The incident with Bset and the bloody river, now compounded by Nephthys and her dubious wine, heightened his sense of vulnerability.

"How could he fortify himself against future threats?" he wondered.

Authority was the key. Set considered expanding his dominion beyond the deserts that already comprised eighty percent of the earth. But encroaching on the remaining forests, grasslands, and swamps would provoke the other gods and might even invite divine retribution.

War was another option. However, of the races capable of waging war, only humans had the potential, but their numbers were too few. Tree spirits, orcs, monsters, and animals all had their limitations and, under the watchful eyes of the temples, hundreds of races lived in enforced peace.

The quickest path to greater power and authority was to increase the number of powerful beings under his control. Yet, this was a long-term endeavor, possibly spanning an entire era.

Ambition for even greater power, like a fourth level of authority, crossed his mind, but it was unprecedented. Most major gods held three levels of authority, and none had yet achieved a fourth.

Set was convinced that Ra would never grant him additional authority. This left his aspirations stifled at every turn.

Frustrated, Set revisited the idea of harnessing the power of faith, but quickly dismissed it. He knew that integrating such power would compromise his own, not enhance it. Worse, it would tarnish his reputation, possibly branding him as an evil deity and provoking a holy crusade against him.

Aligning himself against the other gods would cast him as another Apep, yet he lacked Apep's immortality and formidable strength to stand against Ra. Drowning in despair, a flicker of hope sparked within him.

"The Book of True Names!" Set exclaimed suddenly. The book held the potential to grant him leverage over others without openly wielding the power. In times of crisis, knowing the true names could be his ultimate safeguard.

His plan formed quickly: weather the storm, then pin any backlash on the Book of True Names. Let the book bear the brunt of Ra's and the other gods' wrath. Excited by his own cunning, Set returned to his temple, ready to merge once more with the desert and seek out the bloody river to coerce the book into revealing the gods' true names.

"If the Book refuses, it'll face Ra's wrath once more. And I'll ensure Ra knows it still exists," Set thought, a sly grin spreading across his face.

As he reveled in his cleverness, a nagging thought struck him. "This is rather villainous…" He paused but then shrugged off the concern. "So be it! If being a villain is what it takes to secure the true names, then a villain I shall be!"

Resolved, Set ventured back to the temple to set his plans in motion.

...

Above a dense forest, Nephthys sat expressionless on the roof of a small house, bathed in moonlight that cascaded like water over her form.

"Your plan to bind Set with the wine has failed," a voice emanated from the house below.

"I know," Nephthys replied icily. "He has spurned me repeatedly."

"Bastet's influence has changed him."

"What will you do next?" the man's voice inquired further.

"Set is not the only god," Nephthys stated flatly. "I'll find another who can serve my purposes, a god who will further my plans."

"Do you need my assistance?" asked the man.

"It's not a matter of needing help," Nephthys scoffed. "You owe me. Our agreement was clear."

"My apologies," the man responded promptly, adding, "But be wary, Isis might be plotting something."

"I will keep an eye on her," affirmed Nephthys, her tone resolute.

Within the hallowed walls of the Yellow Sand Temple, Ago, the emissary who had delivered the seeds of Hathor to Osiris, had just returned. Set, preoccupied with weightier matters, allowed Ago to frolic with Akka while he focused on his plans.

Before his impending merge with the desert, Set pondered a crucial decision. He resolved not to alert Isis prematurely about Nephthys' actions. His last merging had taken a fortnight to locate the bloody river, and this endeavor could demand equal time. The complexities of communication, whether through letters or in-person conversations, demanded more energy than Set could spare at the moment. He decided to confront the Book of True Names first before dealing with any disclosures.

After empowering the Ankh and securing the temple, Set was on the brink of merging with the desert sands when he noticed the divine energy emanating from a statue, absorbed by the golden feathers of Ra, a clear sign that the faithful were offering sacrifices again.

Amid these preparations, a piece of papyrus arrived at the temple's threshold. Set brought it inside and, with a touch, transformed it into a flurry of sacred texts. It was a response from Thoth, the god of wisdom.

Thoth's message conveyed his inability to answer Set's inquiries about Hathor, a deity older than even himself, from a time before the creation of the world. He explained that the gods who had witnessed those ancient events remained tight-lipped, and his knowledge was limited to the creation of humans from tears. Thoth speculated that Hathor's influence might have once distinguished humans from other sentient beings, though any residual power had likely diluted over eons.

Though Set felt a twinge of disappointment at not uncovering ancient secrets, he recognized that such knowledge would not enhance his power, merely satisfy his curiosity. Dismissing the distraction, he focused on what truly mattered, amassing power.

Set then summoned his divine authority, feeling the immense power of his triple authority surge through him. As he merged with the desert once again, his consciousness expanded rapidly from the temple, spreading out like water flowing from its source, ready to envelop the land in his essence and influence.