Gate of Memoirs/Chaos in Sigh

The royal scions' disregard for life angers Harakhte, who vows to put an end to their inhumane rituals.
Portrait 	Dialogue
Music: "To the Top"	Music: "To the Top"
 	
*Rahotep: Gh!
 	
*Harakhte: I don't have time for this.
*Harakhte: Your loyalty is honorable, soldier, but look within your heart!
*Harakhte: The God-King is not who he claims to be.
 	
*Harakhte: And when the time comes, we must all play our part upon this stage.
*Harakhte: The question remains: what will be yours?
 	
*Harakhte: Now—Out of the way!
 	
*A prodigious force throws the remaining guards off their feet.
*Rahotep could only watch as the strange, winged avatar chases his charges.
 	
*Rahotep: (He's right.)
*Rahotep: (For whom—or what—do I fight?)
*Rahotep: (Why mark me with divinity when I cannot even see my own path?...)
Portrait 	Dialogue
Music: "Source Hall"	Music: "Source Hall"
 	
*Harakhte pursues the escaping scions through winding caverns, and emerges into a dim altar.
*Along the wall are unconscious, unmoving slaves—all bound and gagged.
*The stench of death is overpowering here.
 	
*Harakhte: Ugh...
 	
*The two royal scions—a broad-framed young man and a thinner, paler one—stand before a large gold-plated dish overflowing with red liquid. 
*Hot-headed Scion: Grr... You dare enter this private altar?!
*Hot-headed Scion: The royal guards are useless! I'll punish you myself!
*Anemic Scion: Hold, brother... This boy is not who he seems...
*Anemic Scion: I sense something within him. Something...dare I say it...divine.
*The brawny scion punches his fist into his palm, sneering.
*Hot-headed Scion: Oh? One of those fools what calls themselves "god-touched", eh?
*Hot-headed Scion: Hah! The only TRUE divinity is Father; he whom all bow to as the GOD-KING!
*Hot-headed Scion: Whatever powers you have pale in comparison to his divine strengths!
*Hot-headed Scion: And *I*, heir to his glorious name, will be eager to SHOW you!
*The scion raises his fist, channelling a dark energy that pulls the lifeforce of the captured slaves toward him.
*A terrible groan emanates from each of the victims, and soon, they rise as the same twisted creatures from a few nights before.
*Hot-headed Scion: Gahaha! By my divine will— CRUSH THIS INSECT!
*Monsters: GROOOAARR!!
 	
*Harakhte: Ye unnatural fiends born of a fiend...!
*Harakhte: Unaware of even your own lineage, and to boast of it!
 	
*Harakhte: I will not tolerate such insults upon my kin, nor upon life itself!
*Harakhte: Spirits, to me!
*Harakhte: I will destroy you, child of Chaos!