Prologue
Lara Croft Opened the door to the dark motel room. The events of the past few hours left her dirty and tired—she needed some rest before leaving Prague. Still shaken by her time at the Strahov, Lara opened the door to the bathroom and started the shower, resting her backpack on a chair near the bed before taking off her clothes and letting the hot water rinse her of the past few days.
Try as she might to enjoy the shower, Lara couldn't stop reliving the events of the night, and above all she couldn't forget one figure.
"Kurtis Trent" she whispered to no one in particular. Why was he still in Lara's thoughts? She remembered the first time she saw him, in the Café Metro, outside Le Serpent Rouge, and then across that river, if you will. She still didn't know him then, but there was something in his deep azure eyes that kept Lara awed. Even later, at the Louvre, those eyes pulled her in.
With a sigh Lara turned off the shower and grabbed a towel. She wiped down enough of the now fogged mirror above the sink to see her reflection. She'd changed since Egypt, she realized. She was darker, harder, colder; with a look of so much anger and fear she surprised even herself.
"He meant nothing to you," she told herself aloud, with conviction. In truth she admitted she'd felt a physical attraction to him, but little else.
"Forget him. He was simply a pair of extra hands. Nothing else. Besides, he's either dead or on his way home. Forget it." She argued, convincing herself she did indeed care nothing for him.
She put on dry clothes before lying on the bed, trying to get some sleep.
Lara tossed and turned in the uncomfortable bed. But it wasn't that which kept her from sleep.
She was rushing through the streets of Prague, in first person. She finally got to the Strahov, where she saw a blue motorbike around the corner from the main entrance which she'd used, "Trent?" she whispered aloud, but not loud enough to wake her beside the bike was a door, she entered, and she realized she was inside the fortress, rushing through the corridors and halls until she came to a dead end, where a lone figure was slumped over, eyes struggling to stay open…
A loud thud woke Lara up in a start. Instinctively, she reached under her pillow to her pistols and pulled one out, aimed and cocked in one fluid motion, ready to shoot at any intruder. The soft glow of the moon through the flimsy curtains revealed that there was no one there, and she turned on the light to expose that the moonlight shielded no danger.
She got up and noticed her pack was thrown on the floor, shaking. She picked it up and searched through the contents until she came across the object causing the commotion. She pulled out the glaive she'd picked up from that arena in the Strahov, shaking violently. She looked at it and instantly returned to the figure in her dream, remembering one last thing. Deep azure eyes.
Kurtis, she thought before she got dressed, equipped her holsters, and ventured into the cold dawn over Prague.
The chirugai shook violently as Lara began to enter the Strahov via the gate she took earlier. Surprised, she let go of it, unaware that she had been clutching it tightly after leaving the motel. Instead of crashing to the grounds, however, it flew up and to the side of the entrance.
"What the Hell!" Lara called after it, following for some time. Suddenly, after turning a corner, she saw a blue motorbike. Forgetting the flying discus she ran her hands along the side of it, wondering why she'd go so far for this one person who meant so little to her. She realized she should probably hurry, and began to run, practically falling into the door at the side of the building.
Looks Interesting, she thought, as she remembered her dream, trying to ward of the encroaching fear she felt as she reentered this place where she'd gone through hell only hours earlier. She followed the Chirugai through halls and corridors she'd never been through before but which looked oddly familiar. She noticed the curious emptiness of the building which had swarmed with armed guards earlier, but thought nothing of it, concerning herself with finding the figure from her dream.
Kurtis was badly wounded, with a lot of blood lost, but he was still conscious.
"Trent!" Lara ventured upon finding the slumped body at a dead end, reaching to check vital signs and survey the extent of the injuries before withdrawing bandages from her pack.
"L..ar..a" Kurtis struggled to mumble.
"It's me Kurtis. It's okay, you are going to be okay," she said, quickly bandaging his stomach to her best fashion, then pulling him up, leaning him against her.
"Thank…you"
"Hush," she replied, then,-- more for her own well being—as Kurtis was drifting in and out of consciousness, "We'll get you to help soon enough."