The desert wind bit into Ryan's cheeks like sandpaper.
"Why is it always the hottest places that hide the best stuff?" he muttered, wiping sweat from his brow.
Ryan Rhee, 23, Asian, broke, and obsessed with ancient ruins, stood before a half-buried tomb in the middle of nowhere. His boots sank slightly into the scorching sand as he stared at the entrance, half expecting it to vanish like a mirage.
But it didn't.
A smirk tugged at his lips.
He'd found it.
"The Tomb of Whispers," he whispered. "Unmapped. Untouched. Unlucky for anyone who's not me."
He adjusted his gear, clicked on his headlamp, and stepped inside.
[The deeper he went, the colder it got.]
It didn't make sense. He was in the middle of a desert, and yet the air grew damp and icy the further he descended.
The walls weren't covered in the usual Egyptian hieroglyphs. These symbols were... twisted. Circular. Wrong.
Ryan paused. The silence was heavy. Too heavy.
"Whatever's down here better be worth it," he mumbled, mostly to keep himself sane.
After an hour of navigating half-collapsed passageways, he reached the burial chamber. At its center, sitting atop a smooth stone pedestal, was a lamp.
Not just any lamp.
A gleaming brass oil lamp, polished like someone had just placed it there.
"Oh my god..." he breathed. "This is the jackpot."
Ryan rushed forward, brushing off the thin layer of dust. It felt warm in his hands.
And then—
Smoke.
It poured out of the spout like water, thick and dark and endless.
A figure began to form. Tall. Cloaked. Glowing gold eyes peered down at him.
Ryan froze.
"What the hell—?"
"I am the Warden of Wishes," the figure spoke, its voice both a whisper and a roar. "One wish. No more. No less. Speak your need."
Was this real? A hallucination?
But deep down, Ryan knew.
This was real.
So he didn't hesitate.
"I wish for enough money to take care of my family... forever."
The Warden tilted its head.
"Wish granted."
Snap.
The lamp vanished.
The chamber went silent.
[The Rise]Three days later, Ryan had gold coins, digital bank accounts, offshore investments, and auction houses begging for his "donations."
His mother cried tears of joy when he wired her the money. Her treatments began immediately. He bought her a house, one for himself, and still had more money than he knew what to do with.
The world suddenly seemed easy.
Too easy.
[The Fall]Then it started.
His friend Mia went missing.
His mother's car exploded.
News headlines accused him of embezzlement. Fraud. Smuggling.
His bank accounts froze. The police came knocking. The clients stopped calling.
Everyone he trusted either vanished or turned on him.
"What is happening to me?!" he screamed, locked inside a dirty motel room, clutching the last clean shirt he owned.
The TV crackled.
"Local explorer Ryan Rhee is now the subject of an international investigation—"
He shut it off.
This wasn't money.
It was a curse.
He wished for his family's safety, and now everything he loved was being torn away.
A few years later….
At the edge of the city, hiding in an abandoned church, Ryan found it again.
The lamp.
Sitting on a dusty altar, right where the light from a broken stained glass window fell.
It pulsed, warm and inviting.
Ryan stared.
He didn't speak.
He didn't have to.
The Warden of Wishes appeared again.
"You wished," it said softly. "And the world answered."
Ryan fell to his knees.
"I just wanted to help her... I didn't ask for any of this..."
The Warden tilted its head.
"And yet, someone always does."
With a final flash of golden light, the lamp vanished.
10 years later...
In a rainy alley on the other side of the world, the same lamp rolled out from a pile of garbage bags.
A pair of sneakers stepped in front of it.
A young woman in a school uniform stared down, her eyes tired and her backpack soaked.
"What's this?"
She picked it up.
The wind shifted.
Smoke began to rise.