In a dimly lit, dusty tomb chamber, Nyarlathotep's pharaonic avatar emerges from swirling chaos. Her golden headdress glints as she stands tall, regal and imposing. Ancient Egyptian frescoes crackle with energy around her, as if reality itself is warping to accommodate her presence. The air thickens with an otherworldly aura, heavy with the stench of madness-inducing terror. As she materializes, the tomb's stone walls begin to writhe like living serpents, hinting at the unfathomable horrors lurking just beyond the veil of sanity.
