for you to understand, but you need to hear this. You are...were John Dinsmoore. Your soul was reborn to continue this quest you began almost a century ago."

He was still trying to grasp what this all meant when inexplicable recognition hit him. "You're...you're Philip, the temple priest who saved me after the sandstorm." Sam didn't know how, he just knew.

"Yes, yes," Philip nodded.

"Did the Box make you immortal?"

Philip shook his head. "Each answer depends on the question. I believe in my case I received a slice of eternity so I could wait for you. No amount of time nor distance could change what I feel for you."

"I...John Dinsmoore gave you the journal," Sam said, hazy images, recollections not entirely his own forced themselves into his consciousness.

"I saw John one last time. I heard he was in Cairo, dying of pneumonia. I came with the Box, thinking it could help. Or at least bring him some measure of peace. But it was too late," Philip said sadly. "I was too late."

Sam closed his eyes and saw it. He was in bed, just like this, the past and present now bleeding into each other. He saw his hand, weak and trembling, giving the journal to Philip. "I said...before I died...I said...we'll find each other again."

He opened his eyes and saw Philip smiling through welling tears. “And I always knew we would.“ Philip continued, "Now it's time for you to see the Box." They climbed out of bed and Philip led the way to another room, lit only be a single candle. Philip then stood aside as Sam moved forward to a small statue of Geb and the object of his obsession.
Here, at last, the Box lay before him, beckoning to be touched, to be opened, ready to reveal to him secrets heretofore hidden by the sand of ages. An entire lifetime, longer, he had waited, craved for this very moment. Now, everything depended on this - his life, job, sanity. With the Box he could regain them and more. Another step closer now, his hand reached out, fingers almost brushing the intaglios hewn into the rose tinted ivory lid. Nothing was going to stop him from seeing what it held inside.

Then, unbidden, memories rushed over him like film unspooling in his mind's eye - the expedition, the sandstorm, Geb's temple, his work at the museum, Luc's betrayal - a journey that had defied death itself. Yet, with an outstretched hand and one foot in front of him already, he wavered. He dropped his hand, realizing finally - that none of it ever truly mattered. Except...except for one thing. Sam turned around to Philip, naked and beautiful, and he felt his heart stop. Sam stepped toward him until they were but a breath away from each other. "I don't need the Box anymore. I have all the answers I need in front of me."

A smile spread across Philip's face, a smile so bright it lit up Sam's reborn soul. Philip took him in his arms and Sam held on for dear life and whispered, "But there's something else I must know..." Philip laughed and kissed him and kissed him and kissed him, forever stilling all his questions.