In the era known as the First Time, when the gods walked among men and the world was yet young, the sun god Ra ruled as the supreme pharaoh of both the celestial and earthly realms. For many centuries, his word was law, and his radiance maintained the Ma'at, the cosmic balance of the universe. However, as the ages rolled by, Ra began to show the signs of physical decline. His bones turned to silver, his flesh took on the hue of gold, and his hair became the deep blue of lapis lazuli. Perceiving this frailty, the humans who lived in the shadow of his glory began to whisper in the dark corners of the desert. They believed that the Great Father had grown weak and that they no longer needed to offer sacrifices or obey the divine mandates. These whispers grew into a full-scale conspiracy, a rebellion of the mortal coil against the divine source of light.
Ra, though physically aged, possessed a wisdom that spanned the breadth of the heavens. He sensed the shifting winds of human loyalty and summoned a secret council of the primeval gods to his palace in the Great Temple of Heliopolis. Among those called were Nun, the watery abyss from which all life emerged; Shu and Tefnut, the pillars of air and moisture; and Geb and Nut, the earth and the sky. In the cool shadows of the divine chamber, Ra spoke of the treachery of men and asked for counsel on how to proceed. It was Nun, the eldest of the gods, who spoke first, advising Ra to remain upon his throne and instead send forth his Eye—the most powerful and destructive aspect of his solar energy—to teach the rebels the true meaning of divine wrath.
Following this advice, Ra focused his power into his daughter, the goddess Hathor. Usually known as the lady of beauty, music, and joy, Hathor was transformed into the terrifying lioness-goddess Sekhmet, the 'Powerful One.' Her form shifted, her gentle face becoming the snout of a golden lioness with teeth like daggers and eyes that burned with the intensity of the midday sun. She descended upon the desert plateau where the rebels had gathered, and the massacre that followed was unlike anything the world had ever seen. Sekhmet moved with a speed that defied mortal perception, her claws tearing through the ranks of the conspirators. By the end of the first day, the sands of the desert were stained a deep, sticky crimson. Sekhmet, tasting the blood of her enemies, felt a dark joy stir within her heart. She was no longer just the enforcer of Ra's will; she had become the personification of the slaughter itself.
Ra watched from the horizon as his daughter rampaged across the land. Initially, he felt the satisfaction of justice being served, but as the days turned into nights, his satisfaction turned to horror. Sekhmet did not stop once the rebels were defeated. Her bloodlust was an insatiable fire that fed upon itself. She began to hunt the innocent as well as the guilty, the young as well as the old. She waded through the marshes of the Nile, her golden mane matted with the gore of a thousand victims. Ra realized that if he did not intervene, there would be no humans left to serve the gods, to build the temples, or to maintain the life-cycle of the Nile. The Ma'at was being destroyed by the very force sent to protect it. He called out to Sekhmet, commanding her to cease her hunt, but the goddess was deaf to his voice. She was 'The One Who Dances in Blood,' and she would not stop until the world was a silent tomb.
Desperate to save the remnants of humanity, Ra summoned Thoth, the god of wisdom and writing, to devise a plan. Thoth, whose mind was a reservoir of infinite strategy, suggested that they could not stop Sekhmet by force, for her power was Ra's own. Instead, they must use her own appetites against her. Ra sent swift-footed messengers to the southern city of Elephantine, near the first cataract of the Nile, to retrieve vast quantities of red ochre, a mineral known as dididi. At the same time, he commanded the high priests and the handmaidens of the temples in Memphis and Heliopolis to begin an unprecedented brewing project. They worked throughout the night, grinding barley and fermenting mash, until they had produced seven thousand jars of potent beer.