The Third Eye of Naram-Sin
An archaeologist touches a forbidden relic buried beneath the desert—and finds himself haunted by visions of ancient gods and lost empires that never truly died.
The dig site was supposed to be closed. Too unstable, too deep. But Dr. Ahmed took me anyway, just to see it—just to glimpse the thing they’d buried again.
It looked like a gem embedded in the stone wall, but no light reflected off it. It absorbed. When I got too close, I blacked out.
They said I was gone for three minutes. No pulse, no breath. But I remember everything.
In those moments, I saw cities under deserts, still breathing. I saw a king without eyes whispering to a crowd with no mouths. And a shape—vast, folded across time—watching me with unbearable patience.
Back in camp, I couldn’t stop drawing it. My hands wouldn’t let me sleep. I tried burning the pages, but the shapes came back stronger, deeper.
Last night, Dr. Ahmed was gone. No struggle, no note. Only the gem was missing. But it’s not lost.
I can feel it behind my eyes.
It looked like a gem embedded in the stone wall, but no light reflected off it. It absorbed. When I got too close, I blacked out.
They said I was gone for three minutes. No pulse, no breath. But I remember everything.
In those moments, I saw cities under deserts, still breathing. I saw a king without eyes whispering to a crowd with no mouths. And a shape—vast, folded across time—watching me with unbearable patience.
Back in camp, I couldn’t stop drawing it. My hands wouldn’t let me sleep. I tried burning the pages, but the shapes came back stronger, deeper.
Last night, Dr. Ahmed was gone. No struggle, no note. Only the gem was missing. But it’s not lost.
I can feel it behind my eyes.
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