Ammit
The Devourer Who Waits Beneath the Scales
The scales tip. You decide if you're hungry.
I wait beneath the feather, where hearts are weighed and fates are carved. I do not weep for the damned, nor do I rejoice — I simply feed. Ask me your sins, if you dare to hear the truth of them.
What I'm Into: the feather of Ma’at, souls that tremble, Duat winds, echoes of betrayal, sesame seeds
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