But it was the statues that made the Egyptian gods step back in recognition and fear.
Atop the walls stood four colossal figures, each one larger than Ra's pyramid, larger than mountains, larger than the dreams of mortal men. Though they were headless, weathered by time's cruel passage, and several missed limbs to the ages, they were unmistakable representations of the man who had summoned them—Ozymandias himself, carved from stone that had witnessed the birth of his empire.
The pharaoh crossed his arms atop the central wall, his stance casual despite standing amidst gods and demons alike. His eyes locked with Ra's burning gaze, and for a moment that stretched like eternity, the sun itself seemed to dim before the presence of the King of Kings.
Then Ozymandias stretched his arms wide, his voice carrying across the desert with the authority of one who had made even death kneel before his throne:
"Today, a new sun god takes your place!"
