Lara's heart was pounding in her chest as she delicately fitted the crystal into its designated socket. As she watched with bated breath, the reddish glow from the crystal flared and winked, illuminating the dark room around her. For a few tense moments, nothing happened, and Lara began to wonder if all her efforts had been in vain. But then, she felt a sudden tremor beneath her feet, as if a heavy truck was passing nearby. The floor began to clank and creak, and the ancient machinery that had remained dormant for centuries began to groan and whirr to life.
As the machinery came to life, dust began to drift down from the ceiling, coating Lara's shoulders and face. The lamps hanging from the ceiling swayed back and forth, casting eerie shadows across the walls. Despite the chaos around her, Lara could not take her eyes off the exquisite tableaux of gemstone and artistry that were set into the floor. She watched in amazement as each panel mounted on a column began to creep towards the ceiling, smoothly rising and falling with the other pillars until they came to a hovering pause at eye level.
It was then that Lara realized what the columns and panels had formed - a staircase. It was a breathtaking sight, but also one that would require a great deal of courage to climb. With her curiosity piqued and her resolve firm, Lara approached the nearest pillar. At the top of the dome was an opening, an oculus that she had not noticed before. The circular skylight was a common feature of classical architecture from the 1500s.
However, as Lara looked up through the oculus, she realized that some disaster had befallen the upper balcony. A large section of it, the size of a double-decker bus, had been sheared off, leaving a gaping hole in the architecture. Pale torchlight shone through the hole, beckoning her to explore further. Lara knew that the painting she was seeking could only be up there, somewhere.
Without hesitation, Lara climbed onto the lowest pillar. It adjusted to her weight, hovering steadily as she carefully made her way up the onyx and jet tableau of Scorpio, taking care not to slip on its tail poised to strike. She waited patiently for the next pillar to drop into range, then the next and the next. Each pillar was a work of art, crafted with the skill and precision of a Renaissance craftsman, and Lara couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect for their creators.
Finally, the pillars' journey terminated within reach of the great iron chandelier. Without hesitation, Lara stepped lightly up and threw her arms out for balance as she made her way across the hollow, encrusted metal. Heat radiated from the chandelier, frazzling her senses, but she kept her focus and picked her way carefully until she could vault over the low balustrade and onto the balcony.
Lara's heart was racing as she stepped onto the balcony, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. She knew that she was getting closer to the painting she had been seeking for so long, but she also knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with danger. As she peered through the broken railing and into the darkness beyond, Lara couldn't help but wonder what other mysteries and secrets lay hidden within this ancient place.
The situation was dire for Lara. She had just triggered the awakening of the guardians of the Lux Veritatis, an ancient order sworn to protect the world from the forces of darkness. As she tried to make her escape, one of the guardians had broken free from its tomb and attacked her, causing the wall to explode in the process. The resulting debris sliced her arms, and she had to use her instincts to shield her eyes from the dust and avoid the larger pieces of stone hurtling her way.
Coughing and disoriented, Lara regained her bearings and aimed her guns at the undead creature that had emerged. The guardian hissed and swung its sword at her, and Lara knew she had to act fast. With a fierce yell, she kicked out and shattered its kneecaps, causing it to fall to the ground. As it tried to rise, Lara emptied her guns into its helmet, making sure it wouldn't pose a threat anymore.
But her victory was short-lived. More guardians were emerging from their tombs, and the entire balcony shook as they broke free. The stone walls crumbled, sending debris flying everywhere, and a choking cloud of dust obscured Lara's vision. She could hear the guardians' baleful eyes glowing in the shadows, and she knew she was cornered.
Lara quickly assessed her options. There were no more stairs, no doorways to escape through. She was trapped. But Lara was not one to give up easily. She loaded her gun with a sense of grim determination and prepared to fight her way out. With the guardians closing in, Lara steeled herself for the fight of her life.
Emerging from the shadows, the guardian with broken legs and a bullet-riddled skull appeared, its bones now mended. Although its movements were unsteady, it was fueled by an intense hatred that powered its every step. The sound of its approach was a sinister hiss, which prompted the other knights to draw their swords and let out a howl that would have caused lesser men to tremble in fear.
The act of bringing the dead back to life was a phenomenon that the protagonist had witnessed many times before, but she was amazed at the quality of work displayed by the Lux Veritatis in preserving the purpose and will of the reanimated corpses. She instinctively thought of the lamp of C4 in her backpack as a possible weapon, but quickly dismissed the idea, as it would have had little impact on the enemy. As she backed up against the wall, she quickly assessed her options and decided that fighting was not an option.
Cursing, she reslung her crossbow and scanned the area for an escape route. The handholds were distant and crumbling, but she was not about to complain. As she climbed higher and higher, her muscles burned with exhaustion, and the weight of the crossbow made her ascent more difficult. She was forced to navigate the curving surface of the dome, which caused her handholds to crumble frequently, stinging her eyes with grit. The weight of the crossbow pressed against her backside with every move, making her regret bringing it along.
As she finally crawled through the oculus and onto the cool, solid stone, Lara was consumed with relief. She gasped for air, too overjoyed to think about the furious cadavers below. "Never again," she panted, her exhaustion finally catching up with her.
As she reflected on the climb, the protagonist was struck by the realization that her body had changed considerably over the past two years. What would have been a relatively easy climb previously, had now left her sweating and exhausted. However, she knew better than to be too critical of herself, considering the dire circumstances she had just survived. It was a blessing that she had made it through, and her enemies were now occupied with their frustration instead of mutilating her. She couldn't help but feel grateful for this small mercy.
Werner's decision not to retrieve the painting himself was a wise one, given his fragile state. The mere thought of attempting to enter the tomb and fight off its guardians was preposterous, especially given his current predicament with Eckhardt's shadow looming over him. Once, he may have tried to accomplish this task with hired thugs, but his need for secrecy and his physical vulnerability made it an impossible feat. Despite their complicated history, he had made the right choice in seeking the protagonist's assistance.
The narrow hallway leading from the oculus had a low ceiling and was clogged with cobwebs. The only source of light was a single torch, which merely served to accentuate the shadows. The protagonist was taken aback by the simplicity of the situation after her harrowing experience in the chamber below. She began to question whether she was in the right place at all.
As she ascended the steep stairs, the protagonist let out a gasp of amazement, realizing her doubts had been unwarranted.
Bronze braziers sat between stout granite pillars, giving off a cloying smoke that crept over the bowls and trickled across the floor like sluggish ghosts. Their ruddy glow did not extend very far, and the ceiling was lost in vaulted, inky darkness. Lara observed her surroundings with a narrowed gaze, taking note of the monk carved in black standing directly facing the door, his hands proffering a polished marble plaque. Four more identical statues stood at intervals around the room, their impassive faces turned to the walls, serving as vigilant sentinels watching for any intruders.
As Lara's gaze shifted towards the center of the room, her attention was drawn to six more statues on a raised dais. The statues were chiseled from coal-black stone, and each one held a marble skull in place of a face. The dais also supported a sarcophagus, resting on the shoulders of the statues. The most striking feature of the room, however, was the trench of smoldering embers that encircled the dais, cutting across the floor like lava through a crack. The glow of firelight made the statues' eye sockets flicker, their lipless smiles stretching into hellish grins. But despite the eerie atmosphere, there was no sign of the painting anywhere.
Impatience wasn't a virtue in Lara's line of work. She knew that the trick was to examine every detail, not to jump to conclusions based on a cursory examination. Her experience had taught her that others had visited and disregarded archaeological sites as worthless, only for her to come along and point out the hidden meaning staring them in the face. A hairline crack could be a door, a pebble out of place could mark a trip wire, and a riddle of broken hieroglyphs could warn them not to feed the crocodiles. She approached the sarcophagus with care, brushing away the light covering of dust to reveal the words carved into its flanks.
"Brother John Obscura, 1455," Lara read. "That's the monk who supposedly painted over the original Obscura Paintings. I wonder if Carvier knew he was buried here…" She continued to examine the inscription, hoping to find more information. Surprisingly, all of the statues' plaques were blank, with nothing to suggest their identity or purpose. Lara's curiosity was piqued, and she wondered what other secrets this place held.
Lara strained to decipher the text before her, written in Latin: "Ultra Vigilis Unbram, Ecce Veritas." Suddenly, she gasped as she read the words aloud, "Through the Spirit of the Keeper, Behold the Truth." However, her moment of revelation was cut short as her vision exploded into a fractal of scarlet agony. She was thrust backwards, her skull colliding with stone. The temperature dropped, freezing her eyelids shut, and the air in her lungs solidified like broken glass.
For a moment, she was transported back to a harrowing experience under the Pyramid, lost in crushing darkness and near death. But then a blood-curdling shriek pierced her daze, jolting her back to full consciousness. She had done many things she was not proud of, but surely her afterlife would not include such sounds of terror.
Suddenly, a vaguely man-shaped figure blurred past her, hovering just out of reach. It emanated a coldness that made Antarctica feel like a warm embrace. Frost clung to her eyelashes and numbed her fingers as it dove towards her. Lara narrowly avoided its touch, slamming into a nearby pillar, causing stars to explode in her eyes. The wailing apparition circled the chamber before finally settling on the other side, leaving Lara inches away from a smoldering trench. The warmth of the trench thawed her frozen body, and she regained her senses.
As she looked around, she noticed the plaque on the statue in front of her was alive with a twinkling blue halo. Lara shook her head in disbelief. At the center of the radiance was a painting - the Painting. It was the reason for her journey, and it was now within her grasp.
The braziers that had once lit up the chamber went out one by one as the ghostly presence sapped their flames of light. Lara realized that the fiery trench wasn't just for decoration or defense; it was a prison for the specter, which couldn't sustain itself without the constant heat.
As the ghost hovered before her, its tattered robes flapping in unnatural patterns, Lara tried to predict its movements. But there was nothing remotely human about it. She made the mistake of meeting its burning gaze, which overwhelmed her with the sour-sweet smell of mold and mildew, and the sound of rain leaking through rotting thatch.
Suddenly, she was transported back to a dark and gusty night in a forgotten chapel, lost in the Irish Sea. Lara had seen this ghost before, but she pushed those thoughts aside. She feinted left, dodging into a roll to avoid the specter's attack. The ghost missed her by inches, and a blast of cold air pushed her to her feet. With a blind grab, Lara's fingers closed around the frame of the painting, which was barely the size of Werner's notebook.
Just as she grasped it, the ghost swooped down for another attack. But a wind brushed past her, as if someone was there with her, protecting her from the ghost. She didn't look back as she made her escape.