Synopsis

Dust motes danced in the single shaft of moonlight illuminating the ancient chamber. He stirred, a slow unfurling from the stillness of centuries. The air, thick with the scent of dried linen and forgotten incense, filled his lungs. A cold fire ignited within him, a slow burn of righteous fury. He was back, drawn by the desecration, the violation of his final resting place. And he would not rest until those responsible understood the true meaning of retribution.