The power and spirit of Kukulkan, lord of creation and destruction, moved in Lara, literally breaking through her skin and glowing in places. You can do anything, it whispered, anything! Remake the world.
She could revive her parents.
She could go to Kitty.
She could do both, and that possibility broke her heart a little more.
But the sun was already eclipsed, and the scarified, almost alien face of Chak Chel (did she have any other name? somehow, Lara doubted it) watched her patiently. The rational world said of course, there's no way that the sun will die because of some words and arm-waving in an ancient temple. But the rational world said that taking a dagger couldn't cause floods, storms, and earthquakes, and that had happened. The sun was already eclipsed, and no matter what she wanted she couldn't let the sun and the whole world die for it.
"Good-bye," she whispered, then put Ix Chel's mask back on her face. She handed the dagger to Chak Chel, whose lipless face still showed no particular emotion: not rage, not elation, not relief. She laid down on her back on the stone table, closed her eyes, and waited for the knife to fall. Chak Chel had been preparing for this all her life, however long that had been. She would make a clean job of it.
Lara felt the dagger go in. Kukulkan exploded out of her, consuming the whole world in light.
Later, she opened her eyes to look up not at a smoke-filled night sky but at a clear blue sky. She was still lying on her back on what felt like stone, but... smoother than the table had been. And there was no pain or warmth of blood where a stomach wound should probably have been. In fact, the blue outfit that Uneratu had given her was clean. Not torn, not bloodied, not burned. Apart from the old-ish abrasions on her leg from being caught under that rockfall and the continuing pull-burn-sting of the jaguar bites and scratches on her back, everything seemed fine.
Her bow was under one hand, even.
She sat up, looked around, and immediately scrambled to her feet (throwing her bow over her shoulders out of habit), torn between utter flabbergasted blankness and an undignified whoop of joy.
She was on a road, in the desert, and a set of very familiar buildings was in the distance. I'm back.
Lara didn't bother pretending to dignity, she just ran to the buildings and into the lobby, not bothering to take off the mask of Ix Chel until she reached the front desk and offered a breathless, "Hello, Darryl. You have a room for me?"
The front desk attendant looked at her, completely unsurprised of course, and passed a key over. "Welcome back to the Madonna Inn, Lady Croft. You have been booked into the Traveler's Suite for this stay. Will you require additional towels?"
"Oh, probably! But not right now, yeah? I have things to... I have to go." Lara scooped up the key and stashed it. Room later.
Cafe now. Right now. And if Kitty wasn't there, then she'd have to go looking.
Lara Croft - Assigned Threads
She could revive her parents.
She could go to Kitty.
She could do both, and that possibility broke her heart a little more.
But the sun was already eclipsed, and the scarified, almost alien face of Chak Chel (did she have any other name? somehow, Lara doubted it) watched her patiently. The rational world said of course, there's no way that the sun will die because of some words and arm-waving in an ancient temple. But the rational world said that taking a dagger couldn't cause floods, storms, and earthquakes, and that had happened. The sun was already eclipsed, and no matter what she wanted she couldn't let the sun and the whole world die for it.
"Good-bye," she whispered, then put Ix Chel's mask back on her face. She handed the dagger to Chak Chel, whose lipless face still showed no particular emotion: not rage, not elation, not relief. She laid down on her back on the stone table, closed her eyes, and waited for the knife to fall. Chak Chel had been preparing for this all her life, however long that had been. She would make a clean job of it.
Lara felt the dagger go in. Kukulkan exploded out of her, consuming the whole world in light.
Later, she opened her eyes to look up not at a smoke-filled night sky but at a clear blue sky. She was still lying on her back on what felt like stone, but... smoother than the table had been. And there was no pain or warmth of blood where a stomach wound should probably have been. In fact, the blue outfit that Uneratu had given her was clean. Not torn, not bloodied, not burned. Apart from the old-ish abrasions on her leg from being caught under that rockfall and the continuing pull-burn-sting of the jaguar bites and scratches on her back, everything seemed fine.
Her bow was under one hand, even.
She sat up, looked around, and immediately scrambled to her feet (throwing her bow over her shoulders out of habit), torn between utter flabbergasted blankness and an undignified whoop of joy.
She was on a road, in the desert, and a set of very familiar buildings was in the distance. I'm back.
Lara didn't bother pretending to dignity, she just ran to the buildings and into the lobby, not bothering to take off the mask of Ix Chel until she reached the front desk and offered a breathless, "Hello, Darryl. You have a room for me?"
The front desk attendant looked at her, completely unsurprised of course, and passed a key over. "Welcome back to the Madonna Inn, Lady Croft. You have been booked into the Traveler's Suite for this stay. Will you require additional towels?"
"Oh, probably! But not right now, yeah? I have things to... I have to go." Lara scooped up the key and stashed it. Room later.
Cafe now. Right now. And if Kitty wasn't there, then she'd have to go looking.