Anubis, Inc.

Somewhere in the Nevada desert, buried under sand and red rock, there's a pyramid. Not the kind they advertise in glossy brochures. No. This one's different. Black stone, matte and angular, like something alien gouged it out of the earth. The kind of place where silence breathes and shadows stretch too long.

But the real secret? We built it. Not pharaohs, not slaves. Not even aliens. We did.

It started as a joke. The kind that gets whispered in dark rooms between billionaire board members who’ve had one too many lines. “What if,” they said, “we built one, too?” A monument to our greatness. A middle finger to history. Something to last forever, like the old ones.

But there’s no forever. Only now.

The funding came from nowhere and everywhere—shell companies with names like Anubis, Inc. and Set Enterprises. Money funneled in like blood to a hungry heart. And the heart pumped. Out came steel and stone and manpower—contractors who signed NDAs longer than the Bible, soldiers of Fortune 500. They came. They built. Then, they vanished. Poof. Names scrubbed, records erased, like a bad dream that dissolves with daylight.

But they didn’t just build a pyramid. No, no. That’d be too simple.

They built something inside. Something alive.