Though he tried to brush it off as nothing worthy of note, Yeosang couldn't stop thinking about that odd encounter. The more time passed and the longer he pondered on it, the weirder it seemed.

He had cleaned up the cabinet and locked up to go home for the evening. Officer Song would have questions, but those could wait until the morning. When Yeosang finally dragged his tired bones home to shower and fell into bed, the incident kept replaying before his inner eye.

It should have been terrifying to be locked in with a stranger who might try to harm him. Yeosang was glad he didn't have to fight for his life, but that made it all the weirder.

A young guy who slipped into a sarcophagus for a prank but he spoke perfect Demotic. Didn't even react when Yeosang spoke Dutch to him. Clearly, something wasn't right in his head, but he looked so genuinely confused when he wasn't offered a temple and was taken away instead.

Whatever drugs he had been on, Yeosang might need some to maintain his sanity once Yongguk inevitably demanded the detailed explanation of what happened.

As of now, Yeosang just informed him there was an intruder, he wasn't hurt and that the police dealt with it. Though they still had to fix the damages and find their lost mummy.

Yeosang got some fitful sleep, haunted by robbers intruding into his dreams to smash every single artefact in the museum to bits. He awoke too early for a Saturday and with a stiff neck, but he got up anyway to slurp his coffee.

Once he was coherent enough to check his messages, he found a text from Seonghwa, asking if he got home well last night. Usually, Yeosang would be flattered by his interest, but he was only stressed this time. Should he tell Seonghwa? But what was he supposed to do? If anyone noticed the mummy went missing, Yeosang was in huge trouble. He couldn't just present the empty sarcophagus and claim some idiot locked himself in the cabinet by mysterious means.

Seonghwa couldn't help him, and Yeosang didn't want to worry him too much. They could resolve this on Monday.

He was watering his plants, who thankfully didn't look as distraught as him, when his phone rang. He left his friends that crawled over all corners and furniture to pattern the light from outside with their leaves to fetch the device.

"Yes?"

"Kang Yeosang?" The voice on the other end asked and Yeosang produced a pen and paper to be safe, too muddled from his little sleep to take in information properly.

"Yes, this is he."

"This is officer Song Mingi. We met last night. I'm calling with some questions about the intruder at the museum. Do you have some time to come to the station?"

Yeosang opened his fridge to dig out some fruit as a hasty breakfast. His onions and potatoes had been left enough time to strive in the climate of his home, and he rolled his eyes at the bananas that were ever over-ripe.

He loved his job but Seonghwa was right, he might be too dedicated. He should be home to eat his food before it grew legs.

"Yeah, sure, no problem. Did he come to his senses yet?"

"Not quite. We have more questions than answers currently and thought you might be able to help."

Yeosang got out his yoghurt, some oatmeal to make himself a healthy bowl of goods. He needed that after last night.

"I can be there around lunch. Does that work?" He asked, and the officer sounded relieved when he gave his approval.

"We'll expect you. Thank you."

Yeosang was glad to help. Not that he knew much more than them, aside from where he found their intruder, but at least he could provide some information. Not too many people around spoke Late Egyptian, so this guy shouldn't be too hard to find in his university's logs.

After breakfast, Yeosang went shopping and read for a while to get his mind off things. He felt better after lunch, even when he still dreaded what Yongguk had to say.

Yeosang's last hope was the police. Once they found out more about the intruder, Yeosang would have a better story to tell. Whether it was a prank and what substances that odd burglar had consumed. Was this some TV show, and that's why they brought in an expert to act the bit?

Either way, Yeosang gladly went to the police station in the afternoon to find out more.

He made his way inside and Officer Song already expected him. When he pushed off the desk where he had been chatting with his colleagues, Yeosang shook his hand.

"Thanks for your help last night," Yeosang caught up, and the officer grinned at him.

"You're welcome. We're lucky nothing got taken. Did he break anything?" After the officer led him into a separate bureau, they sat down together. Yeosang was offered something to drink, but he declined politely. He got a form to fill out, and Officer Song also took notes of the information Yeosang shared.

"He got into a sarcophagus inside a glass display, but it was surprisingly whole. Only thing he took out was the mummified pharaoh that was in there and I have no idea where the body went," Yeosang described and Officer Song hummed with equal confusion.

"How did he get in? We found no keys on him."

"It was so odd. I was locking up with my colleague and I swear everything was cleared out and the doors locked when I heard him. The cabinet was also locked when I opened it. We wouldn't just lose a mummy, either."

"Best we investigate the scene for traces once more," Officer Song promised him and Yeosang just nodded.

"What did you find out about him? Did he mention a motive? I thought it might be a prank."

At that question, Officer Song leaned back in his chair. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, weirded out by the case as much as it had haunted Yeosang through the night. His pen tapped on his notebook.

"Actually, we found surprisingly little. The guy doesn't even have a name. We can't find him in any register. When we tried to talk to him, he spoke back in a language we didn't recognise."

For a moment, Yeosang thought he was in on the prank, but the frustration on the officer's pursed lips was real.

Confused to no end, Yeosang provided what he knew.

"He spoke Demotic to me last night. That's an ancient Egyptian language. I doubt a modern Arabian translator would get through to him. But surely, that's a joke? No one speaks exclusively that language anymore."

Interested, Mingi wrote that down. As Yeosang predicted, there wouldn't be too many people fluent in that language, so it might help them find him.

"We figured he might have injured his head. We called in a psychiatrist but he seemed disturbed, confused and unwilling to cooperate. Before making a verdict, we will send him into a clinic, but we wanted to check with you first. Has he been living in the attic or a cellar by any chance?"

Yeosang shook his head.

"We have neither. I also never saw him before, not as a visitor." He could look through the cameras and their registers, but he was pretty sure. One of Seonghwa's acquaintances, perhaps? Who caught Yeosang by surprise?

The officer jotted down his notes to relay that information later.

"You say he spoke in that language with you? Meaning you are able to speak it as well?"

"Right, I studied it. I got him out of that cabinet and talked to him in Dutch, but he muttered back in Demotic. Naturally, I recognised it and where else would a speaker of that language show up but in a museum, right? But he was talking nonsense to me as well."

Officer Song thoughtfully tapped his lower lip with the back of his pencil.

"Like what?"

"He asked if this was a temple and I was a servant. I told him to go home, but he didn't leave. He also didn't try to steal or attack me, though. He almost seemed content to stay."

This time, the officer nodded.

"Definitely some harm done to the brain, then. I will hand that information over to a doctor. We will need someone who can communicate with him. By any chance, would you be ready to translate for us right now for a brief visit? We will need another source for the validity of any relevant information, but we might learn who he is. You could ask him if he speaks any other languages. More... modern ones, perhaps." Officer Song winced about the wording, but Yeosang took it with humour. Part of why he adored his studies was because everything about them was long dead, buried in the sands of time and yet shaping their modern world.

"Sure, I can see what I can do," he agreed easily. He was just as curious to find out if his odd guest had sobered up. Yeosang read about people who suffered brain damage and came out changed, as if some neurons connected differently than before. Some could suddenly play the piano after never playing it before, others mastered maths. If something like that happened to this guy, he might just genuinely think himself someone from ancient Egypt.

"Then let's go. We provided him with everything necessary, but please don't be startled by his condition. He seemed put off by the cell, probably his first time, so he's anxious." Officer Song stood and reached for the keys on his belt. He beckoned Yeosang along towards a staircase leading up.

"Did he eat?" Yeosang wondered, nodding politely at other people bustling about the station. They all looked mighty busy with this oddity.

"Little. He didn't seem to recognise the food we gave him, though it was a regular meal... And he tried to drink from a toilet."

Yeosang almost halted in his step, he was that perplexed. He quickly caught himself to follow the back of the officer's uniform.

He shouldn't be judgmental. If this guy went through a lot, it was easier to understand why he ended up in the museum. He needed help, that much was clear.

They rounded a corner, and Officer Song opened another door for Yeosang.

"Here you go," he smiled to cheer him up. Yeosang was nervous to see this peculiar person again, but he didn't sound to be dangerous if he left the officers alone, too.

"Thanks, officer." Yeosang ducked past him and the door swung shut to leave them in a long corridor with multiple doors mirroring each other on both sides. Yeosang had never visited a contemporary prison, so he was also intimidated. No wonder that odd guy got even more anxious being inside one of these cells.

"Mingi is more than enough. I have to thank you for your help," Mingi told him as he halted next to a door to fish for the right key.

"Then call me Yeosang," Yeosang offered, happy to make a new acquaintance. Wooyoung often scolded him that he should get out more and meet people. Though Yeosang liked to insist the current time was boring and he preferred the past (or looking at Seonghwa as he studied their museum with shining eyes), some dude pretending to be a mummy in a sarcophagus disappointed him enough to appreciate the contemporary police.

"Got it, Yeosang." With a nod, Mingi beckoned him over so they could peer through the small window in the door together.

The cell was spacious and bright, not grand, but like an okay-sized student dorm room. It had a bed, a corner to wash up in, and some shelf space, not that this visitor brought any belongings. The police dressed him in a poor-fitting grey jumpsuit since he didn't even have proper clothes and he wore it partly undone; the sleeves knotted around his hips and his upper body bare.

"He's not cold?" Yeosang wondered as his eyes raked over toned muscles and tan skin. He looked healthy, well-fed and trained. Not at all like some lunatic, but never judge a book by its cover.

"No idea, but I suppose not. We showed him how he could wear it, but he stayed like this," Mingi muttered by his side. Their guest was a mystery to them all, but Yeosang only amassed more and more questions.

"Okay, let's go in," he said, gathering his determination. Nothing would happen, he promised himself. He just had to figure out where this person came from and how to put him back there.

Mingi opened the door for him and followed him inside for the conversation.