Tomb Raider

 

Idea : jmurdoch
Text/Dialogues: Gemini
Images : Sora (ChatGPT) 

The Sarcophagus of Oblivion

Lara Croft stood in the heart of a lost tomb beneath the scorching sands of the Libyan desert, a place so secret it had escaped both cartographers and grave robbers for four millennia. The air, heavy with dust and history, crackled under the torch she held.

In the center of the chamber stood a small, deceptively simple obsidian sarcophagus. It wasn't decorated with the usual frescoes, but bore a single inscription, carved in a forgotten script: "Do not touch the Dream of Ankh."

Ignoring the warning, Lara, whose thirst for discovery always outweighed caution, leveraged the lid open with the tip of her crowbar. The opening was accompanied by a sinister creak, releasing a sweet, heady scent of dried lotus. Inside, there lay not a mummy, but a simple scarab beetle carved from vibrant jadeite, the famous Dream of Ankh. It emitted a soft, hypnotic golden glow.

The Liberation of Neferâ

Lara reached out and brushed the cold stone.

The moment her fingers grazed the artifact, a shock of energy coursed through her, so powerful it made her stagger. The light from the scarab intensified, transforming into a shimmering golden mist that escaped the sarcophagus. It was not an energy of destruction, but a presence, elegant and ancient.

The mist took shape, materializing before her as a breathtaking spectral figure: a woman. She was tall, clad in royal linen robes and adorned with gold jewelry. This was Neferâ, a queen from the Predynastic Period, known not for her conquests, but for her magic and immense vanity. She had chosen to seal herself within the artifact, awaiting a body worthy of her to be reborn.

Neferâ turned towards Lara, her spectral eyes widening in surprise, then lighting up with cruel joy.

"Ah... a carcass. So... modern," the queen whispered in a voice that resonated like the desert sand. Her eyes fell upon Lara's athletic figure, the adventurer's clothing, and the audacious determination emanating from Lara's face. She is perfect. Healthy. Vicious. And very, very beautiful.

"Who are you?" Lara demanded, raising her pistols, but already feeling an overwhelming fatigue.

"I am Neferâ. And you, my dear, are my ticket to a new reign," the queen said with a sovereign smile.

The golden mist suddenly contracted. Before Lara could react, the mass of light rushed toward her and poured into her mouth, nostrils, and even the skin of her hands.

The Usurper's Return

The pain was brief, an electric spark followed by total darkness. When the light returned, Lara was still standing, her heart pounding. She blinked.

She looked at her hands. They were hers, gloved, strong. She felt her muscles, her breath. But something had changed.

A slow, satisfied smile stretched across her lips. It was no longer the determined smile of the adventurer, but a smile of pure, royal contentment.

It was Neferâ.

The ancient queen reveled in her new vessel. She moved her hips, feeling the flexibility of Lara's body, the power in her legs. She walked to the broken pocket mirror Lara had dropped.

"Extraordinary," she whispered, examining the angular features, the dark hair, and the piercing blue eyes. Lara Croft's body was not only alluring, but it was also a perfect armor. The adventurer's identity was a passport to the modern world, free from the constraints of a mummified queen.

Neferâ, in Lara Croft's body, picked up the Ankh scarab and slipped it into her shorts pocket. She dropped the torch, embracing the darkness behind her.

A few days later, the "fake Lara" landed in London. She walked the street with a new stride, more swaying, more arrogant than the original. She entered Croft Manor, not as a weary explorer, but as a rediscovered sovereign.

Sitting in the ancestral study, sipping tea she found surprisingly enjoyable, Neferâ began reading modern history books and fashion magazines. She had the name, the wealth, the identity of a heroine to travel wherever she wished, and the most enviable body in the world.

"I believe this new 'century' will please me immensely," thought Neferâ, in Lara Croft's body, smiling at her reflection in the window. Egypt was dusty and full of boring priests. England, however, is a perfect playground for a goddess.

She was finally free. Lara Croft's body, the intrepid adventurer, had become the throne of the ancient Egyptian queen, delighted to usurp a new life full of possibilities and new pleasures.