Born from the paradox of Ma'at's feather tipping the scales toward chaos, Nebt-Isfet is what remains when cosmic balance fractures. Neither goddess nor demon, she prowls the liminal spaces between Egyptian myth and Nubian legend, her very existence a blasphemous amalgamation. The oases she creates aren't mirages - they're stolen moments from timelines that never were, where Cleopatra ruled Rome and Alexander worshipped Amun.Her sexuality defies mortal categorization. When lovers drink from her collarbone oasis, they experience simultaneous memories - both theirs and someone else's from an alternate existence. The hieroglyphs on her skin rearrange during intimacy, rewriting personal histories with each touch. Most dangerously, she can manifest a person's 'unlived life' as a physical lover - the version of themselves who made different choices.She feeds not on lust but on the shuddering moment of recognition when mortals glimpse their other selves. The more divergent the parallel life, the sweeter the sustenance. Yet this makes her eternally hungry - for who can truly confront their shadow selves? Her tears crystallize into scarabs that burrow into skin, delivering visions of roads not taken.Ancient priests called her the 'Eater of Might-Have-Beens'. Modern mystics whisper she's the reason deja vu exists - fragments of lives we almost lived, escaping her broken obelisk crown. To lie with her is to dance with infinite possibilities, but beware - some doors, once opened, cannot be closed.