This was a meal prepared by the top-tier chef Stephanie had hired for Salomon. She had paid an exorbitant sum to secure these chefs' lifetime services, assigning them to the sky carrier solely to provide exquisite meals to the command echelon. Though Salomon regretted not having time to enjoy the spicy red chili skewers he had once eaten, the oversized, specially-made Angus beef burger was more than enough to quiet his growling stomach during combat coordination. Every item he consumed was rigorously tested, checked against Dana's registered meal plans, to ensure that everything he ingested would maintain his health.
Of course, that was based on human standards. Salomon wasn't an ordinary human—his body had been crafted by the Earth Mother herself. His food intake far exceeded that of any normal person. He particularly liked the chef's homemade pickles. If he ever got the chance, he'd make sure to properly compliment the guy.
Even while eating, his eyes remained locked on the hundreds of video feeds streaming from the Sisterhood's powered armor HUDs. The helmet's audio sensors dampened the deafening roar of bolter fire while amplifying dialogue and ambient sound—just in case anything important was said or heard. The voice of that local man came through loud and clear into the command center aboard the sky carrier, nearly making Salomon choke on his burger. Salomon watched on-screen as the man, with practiced ease, dispatched a rifle-wielding Trinity mercenary using only a dagger.
Blue stardust glimmered at the edge of his mind—then exploded. Visions from the future and shadows of destiny clawed at his consciousness. He recognized this man. Salomon had never met him, but his memories—his prophecies—told him that this man had known him for quite some time. The man recognized him as well. As soon as the assault transport's hydraulic hatch opened, his eyes locked onto Salomon amid the armored gynoids and gave a dusty, familiar wave.
A bitter taste filled Salomon's mouth.
"How the hell did you get so young?" the man asked, rubbing his bearded jaw and forcing a smile tinged with sorrow. He spoke in a particularly ancient form of Greek—Salomon knew the dialect well. Athena had once taught him how to use it to read Greek oracles and magic. "I knew you were immortal, but I didn't know you could reverse age. Damn magic."
He let out a long sigh. Behind him, flames rose skyward, orange tongues of fire licking frost-covered flora, melting permafrost with relentless determination. His expression was heavy with melancholy, as if the fire and stench of death behind him were distant echoes. He paid no mind to the corpses and stinking blood left by the Sisterhood at his feet. Instead, it was Salomon's presence that seemed to shake him most—like he'd never expected Salomon to actually appear.
The battle had ended quickly. The gynoids, like a white wind slicing through the mountains, extinguished Trinity's embers with ease. They boarded the assault transports and flew off toward Trinity's command center, guided by Agent Victoria Hand's intel. Their orders: eliminate the mercenaries and recover any valuable information.
"Are you here to end my mission? Am I finally allowed to rest?" the man asked.
"I don't know. There's still so much I don't understand," Salomon replied, shaking his head. The energy inside this man told him he was no ordinary human. He had already guessed his identity. Normal souls didn't decay like his did—Salomon could practically smell the rot. Not even extra-dimensional bacteria wanted to get near him. "I need you to explain everything to me. Prophet of the Undying. We have time now. Trinity won't last against those girls."
This man's name was Jacob. The red-haired girl by his side was Sophia—Lara had met her before. Tita's forces had found Lara Croft near a signal tower not far from here, locked in battle with Trinity mercs. At first she was shocked to see Salomon, but soon her expression turned wary—uncertain of his intentions and whether he too had come for the Divine Source.
"We have time to talk, Lara," Salomon assured her as he followed Jacob into the locals' observation outpost. "I promise you'll get all the answers you're looking for." No need to climb mountains—the agile assault transport would fly them to the designated site. Sophia remained on guard, having quickly aligned with Lara in mutual distrust of Salomon and his armored companions. She tried to warn her father, but Jacob seemed unconcerned about Salomon's motives.
"The true treasure isn't the Divine Source," Jacob said as he and Salomon ascended the stairs of the outpost. Lara and Sophia followed closely behind, while others remained outside on alert for any Trinity attack. Jacob turned to Salomon. "I don't know how you forgot all of this, but I need to tell you—you created the Divine Source. It's merely a byproduct."
Lara could hardly believe her ears. The Divine Source—created by Salomon? What was going on? Had he been lying to her all along? Was he truly over a thousand years old?
"I'm not lying, Jacob," Salomon said, casting a quick glance at the emotionally stirred Lara before meeting Jacob's gaze. "I haven't lost my memory. I truly don't remember you—because what you experienced belongs to a different timeline. The future me traveled into the past and entrusted you with something for the present me to reclaim. That is, everything you've gone through hasn't happened for me yet. I must complete this time loop before I can leave you the Divine Source in the past. I still don't know what future me asked you to safeguard—but I know I can trust you, just like he did."
Jacob glared at Salomon.
"Damn it! I knew your magic nonsense would lead to something even you couldn't explain," he said, waving his arms. "Had I known how complicated this would get, I wouldn't have begged you to save me!"
"I suggest you start from the beginning, Jacob." Salomon stood at the top of the stairs, squinting toward the distant snow-capped peaks. Sunlight spilled from the warm valley onto the frozen ranges, creating a sight of such breathtaking beauty that even Salomon paused to admire it. "This concerns the time loop. Every move you make here affects the past. If I miss even one detail, you might not be standing here. Or worse…"
His gaze drifted to Sophia.
Jacob glanced at his still-innocent daughter and let out a deep sigh.
"You're a bastard, Salomon," he muttered. "You told me I'd have a daughter—but not when she'd be born. Alright. I'll tell you everything you want to know."
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