CHEMICAL STORM

The Curse has been unleashed. You don’t know what you are messing with.

Years ago, they thought they had buried it – trapped it in eternal slumber in its own unholy tomb. But some things just won’t stay asleep.

You’ve awoken the curse.

The Curse was just lying there when you found it. Flat. Still. But then you breathed life into it. You took it up, and it entangled you in its ancient gauze and fetid wrappings.

You should have known what you were messing with. You should have listened to the stories. You should have heeded the warnings. Didn’t you stop to think why the grave robbers had just left this pyramid be? The inscribed hieroglyphs were very clear: never enter the tomb, never approach the sarcophagus…

Never disturb the resting place of The Curse.

Now it’s too late. Now the pharaoh of the slopes has been released. Ricocheting across the snow dunes, bandages whipping through the air, stronger than ever. The Curse is unstoppable. No one can outpace it; nothing is more powerful. You’re just lucky that you’re the one steering it.

For now.

You thought you knew what you were messing with when you unearthed The Curse. But don’t forget: you can never control it.

The Curse controls you.