The neon lights of the virtual sim flickered in intense cyan and deep violet. Bastet Dragonash leaned against the cool casing of a brightly lit vending machine. She brushed a strand of her long, copper-red hair, tied into a high ponytail, away from her face and stared at her HUD display. „Pulse“, „Prox“—all the flashing indicators measuring energy levels and presence in this digital world seemed so absurd.
For millennia, she had been worshiped in dusty temples made of sandstone. She had been the goddess of fertility, love, dance, and music. And today? Today she sat in the metaverse. People no longer prayed to her for the protection of pregnant women or danced in her honor at roaring festivals. Instead, they sent her "cat memes" via the global chat. A picture of a fat, grumpy cat demanding "cheezburger" was the modern equivalent of the gilded statues of yesteryear. Bastet couldn't help but chuckle softly—it was a strange, but somehow amusing form of immortality. She had surrendered her wild, wrathful side ages ago to Sekhmet, her dark shadow. Here, in the fleeting infinity of SecondLife, she simply enjoyed the music of the virtual clubs and the creative freedom this new modern era offered.
A sudden drop in temperature in her immediate vicinity made her look up. The scent of myrrh and cold desert sand drifted over the artificial smell of the cyberpunk sim.
He was here.
Anubis. The ancient guardian of the underworld, the guide of souls. He, too, had found his way into this digital reality, adapted to the aesthetics of the new era. His hair was woven into elaborate, long braids, partly tied into a bun, and a perfectly trimmed beard framed his striking features. Instead of the traditional kilt, he wore a heavy, ochre-colored jacket over a dark hoodie—the perfect look for the gritty streets of this virtual metropolis.
He stepped so close to her that the boundary between their avatars almost blurred. Bastet felt the familiar, ancient presence that had absolutely nothing to do with the impersonal pixels of the other users.
„They barely even know my name in here anymore, Bastet,“ his deep voice whispered through the voice chat, as he gently placed his hand against her cheek. His fingertips felt warm, despite the digital barrier. „They look for codes and scripts, not the path of souls.“
Bastet placed her hand on his wrist, feeling the fine cloth of his jacket, and looked up at him. She leaned her forehead gently against his. Amidst the harsh glow of the vending machine’s lighting, between all the XXL packages on the shelves behind them and the sign that profanely demanded „PRESS HERE“, they created their own timeless space.
The image was captured live at Nille’s Hangout. You can visit the location in Second Life here: Nille’s Hangout
.Do you want to dive deeper into the world of Bastet and Anubis? Listen here to the philosophical podcast analysis of my story — exploring the question of how ancient gods survive within the code of the Metaverse.