The moment Soren’s fingers touched it, the floor groaned. The serpent’s path of pressure plates reversed. Magma hissed through new vents. Lara grabbed Kessler and hauled him toward a side tunnel. Soren ran the opposite way, box clutched to her chest.
Lara caught the box inches above the lava. The heat was apocalyptic. The ichor touched her gloves—and vanished. The box sealed itself, smooth and silent. Lara felt a cold whisper in her mind: You held death. You gave it back.
“Mister Kessler, Miss Croft,” Dorian said, brushing debris from his jacket. “The box, if you please. Dr. Soren has a theory that the ‘breath of souls’ might be a concentrated biogenic agent. Immortality in a jar.”
Lara looked at the horizon. “There’s a temple in the Himalayas. Older than the Minoans. A lock made of frozen starlight. This thing needs to be buried where no one will ever find it.”
She found Soren trapped on a crumbling ledge above a lava fall. The box had begun to change: its surface now wept a black ichor that sizzled where it dropped. Soren’s hands were blistering.
The Cradle Of Life Mythological Container Extra Quality | Lara Croft Tomb Raider:
The moment Soren’s fingers touched it, the floor groaned. The serpent’s path of pressure plates reversed. Magma hissed through new vents. Lara grabbed Kessler and hauled him toward a side tunnel. Soren ran the opposite way, box clutched to her chest.
Lara caught the box inches above the lava. The heat was apocalyptic. The ichor touched her gloves—and vanished. The box sealed itself, smooth and silent. Lara felt a cold whisper in her mind: You held death. You gave it back.
“Mister Kessler, Miss Croft,” Dorian said, brushing debris from his jacket. “The box, if you please. Dr. Soren has a theory that the ‘breath of souls’ might be a concentrated biogenic agent. Immortality in a jar.”
Lara looked at the horizon. “There’s a temple in the Himalayas. Older than the Minoans. A lock made of frozen starlight. This thing needs to be buried where no one will ever find it.”
She found Soren trapped on a crumbling ledge above a lava fall. The box had begun to change: its surface now wept a black ichor that sizzled where it dropped. Soren’s hands were blistering.