Welcome to my story, dear reader. Timeline of this fic takes place between ROTR and SOTR and beyond. Watch the story unfold through the eyes of Trinity's newest recruit.

I appreciate that you're spending your time in reading this and hope to hear of your thoughts in the review section. Do note that this story has been rebuilt from the ground up in order to make it bigger and better. The story itself 4 separate volumes with this one being Volume 1 out of 4.

If there's anything you'd like to clarify with or to discuss, just send me a PM to my inbox.

Many thanks,

MrTrojanHorse

Re-edited on: 07/03/2019

Completed on: 18/04/2019

The room was dimly lit, it's occupants shrouded in near-darkness yet continuing to tear into one another all the same.

A dingy looking lightbulb with its glass shell having long since frosted over and covered by a thick blanket of dust was its only source of illumination. It lies suspended above the ceiling on a thin cord of wire rod, gently swaying side-to-side with no telling when it'll snap and crack on some unfortunate soul's head. It was a miracle the damn thing's still functional.

The scenery outside's no better either. Just a long narrow corridor haunted by the deafening roar of the air ducts supplying breathable air several hundred feet from above the surface, and at the end of it lies an antiquated elevator; the only means to get back up to the surface. Trinity had this little hideout constructed sometime in the 1950s and has long since been abandoned, however, due to actions of the sole remaining bloodline to the Croft family rampaging across the world, seeking and destroying several of their power bases and safehouses, this obscure, outdated little hideout has found itself of use to its masters once more.

Earlier before just under an hour ago, a team of highly trained operatives - and they do not take the word "highly" lightly - had swept the room clear of bugs and other nasty listening devices. Even now as they dutifully monitor the symposium taking place, counter-countermeasures were on standby, ready to be deployed in case of emergency to ensure not even a whisper leaks out into the outside world.

Secrecy.

This was how the Order of Trinity had survived over the centuries as Man continues to evolve. From their fathers and their father's fathers, such has been their way of life. Watching, waiting, planning, conspiring from the shadows until the time is right to emerge and reclaim what is rightfully theirs; dominion over mankind as destined by God himself. But that day will not come so soon. Not until they manage to remove a certain misbegotten spawn of the late Baron Croft that is.

But that is not the agenda of this day's assembly. Oh make no mistake, Lara Croft's death shall come swiftly and with great prejudice in due time. Today, however, the powerful few, the High Council has congregated to vet shortlisted candidates selected for Deacon training.

Shouting, quarreling, chaos.

There was disunity amongst the High Council; the likes of which hasn't been seen not since the Industrial Revolution. And all the fuss over a certain candidate.

"Has Morowitz gone mad! Vouching for this heathen!?" Barks one of the councilmen with a heavy English accent as he pounds a meaty fist onto the flat surface of the table.

"Brother Augustus is right, this is madness!" rasps another as he holds back a cough, age having caught up to him sooner than he'd like.

The one known as Augustus promptly snatches the dossier of said candidate from the spindly fingers of his fellow councilman and continues. "Look at this! 'It is my personal request that the one be known as Muhammad be given the opportunity to rise as a Deacon!' Preposterous! Absolutely inconceivable! What next, do we start accepting the Jews into our ranks? We might as well! Look at us, accumulating our own little band of heretics and infidels. Won't our ancestors be proud?"

"Peace, Brother Augustus." rasps another in an attempt to soothe his friend's ire. "Agent Morowitz was one of our best shadow operatives. Long has he championed our cause with honor, loyalty, and distinction. If he has reason to vouch for the anomaly at hand, then we must trust his judgment."

"Blasphemy!" another Council member shouts from the edge of his seat. "I will not sit by idly and watch as our sacred order be desecrated by a perfidy's filthy footsteps! It's bad enough to have him legally bonded to us but Deaconhood? Madness!"

"The only madness going on here is your shouting, if one of our top agents has reason to vouch for a Muhammadan then he must be of some value to the Order. Shocked as I am, we must approach this rationally and not let our biases cloud our judgment."

"And what of the Church, hmm?" broods another as he gently taps on the lit cigar to flick off the burnt excess, all eyes focusing onto him. "When word of this reaches their ears they will surely excommunicate us for good! Our forefathers barely survived the Great Purge centuries ago! It was with providence that we've managed to reconcile once more and to risk it all for having this...this Muhammadan as a Deacon is too great of a risk. I fear for the future of the Order, should we allow him to ascend."

"The Church has bigger fish to fry Bartlett," smirks a councilman as he lazily inspects his wine glass before proceeding to give the blood red contents a gentle swirl, his dark orbs for eyes furrowed deep in thought before continuing with a sickly sweet murmur. "I doubt they'd give a damn even if we had elected an ape to sit on this council."

"I must admit these are interesting times, gentlemen," in swoops a new player, his face hidden from the light. Only the edges of his greying beard and could be seen yet all within the room recognize his voice.

"The prodigal son speaks at last." mumbles a councilman known as Grigori.

"Brother Grigori, do behave," whispers a nearby councilman exasperatedly at such blatant disrespect towards the head of their Order.

If the speaker was upset, he wasn't showing it, instead, he chooses to continue where he left off like the little barb hadn't any effect, to begin with. "-one where we must embrace the tides of change lest we are swept away by its raging current. So, I say," He claps his hands and pauses for effects. "put him into the program, let us see if Agent Morowitz's faith in the boy is not misplaced."

"Yerunda! (Bullshit!)! Ever the sentimental fool, Dominguez!" Scoffs Councilman Grigori derisively. "I'm not surprised you're vouching for this Muhammadan seeing as you two have a lot in common."

"And what would that be, Grigori?" challenges Dominguez.

"Your upbringing from that pagan tribe of yours, no doubt this Godless bastard is cut from the same cloth as you. Not only would you have us consort with unholy powers but now, you wish to induct a Muhammadan into the ranks of our best troops!? You may be Cardinal Dominguez's little pet project but do not think yourself for even a second that you're above the Council to do whatever you please. And I for one, will not have this heretic-" As he roars his defiance, thunderous applause from his supporters arose "- rise as a Deacon! It is the will of this Council, it is the will of God!"

"Hear, hear!" croaks a fellow supporter while the rest cheer and clap obnoxiously loud out of spite.

If anything, this made Dominguez seem to be amused by this spectacular display of resistance. "I always knew you were an ignorant fool whose mouth is inverse with the size of his brain, Brother Grigori but you've far exceeded my expectations this time."

Councillor Grigori makes no effort in hiding his anger; clenching his teeth and balling his fists.

"Oh, and mention my past in a negative light one more time, I will see to it that you and your family disappear from the face of this earth." purrs Dominguez, his eyes twinkling with malice. "Make no mistake."

"Are you threatening me you barbarian upstart?" hisses Grigori, fists balled and daring the Paititi native to make his day. A shootout would definitely favor him well. His personal security team has the numerical advantage here. Dominguez only has Rourke and two Deacon operators idling outside whereas Grigori on the other hand, brought along two full Deacon squads who were all nicely lined up along the hallway. But he knows better than to just go in guns blazing, Dominguez is a sly one, with a few tricks up his sleeve. One simply does not survive this long as the head of Trinity by being a mere fool.

"No. Not a threat, a promise."

"Why you-"

"Gentlemen!" Lady Kimiko intervenes before things got ugly. Men and their raging testosterone levels. Most vexing. "Behave," her oriental accent was sultry yet laced with grace and venom. Sometimes, all it takes is a woman's touch. The room fell silent as she says her piece. "I believe most of us have forgotten the very core of what makes a Deacon. He is loyal, he is driven and most importantly, he has faith. His religion may be anathema to ours but the fact that he has made it here in this list tells me one thing. He has the qualities we seek, though not necessarily in a way we'd have expected. I say we put him in and let God decide."

"God's answer would be absolute. In no way would His holy order be tarnished with the presence of a heathen." hisses one.

"He'll be out by the end of the week," grumbles Augustus. "We have nothing to lose,"

"Aye, and even if he does make it through, we could just keep sending him on the most dangerous assignments where fatality and high attrition is assured."

"Like King David and Uriah, I like it."

"Agreed, I second the notion. The Church would have learned nothing if he's but a corpse."

"But what if he survives-"

"He won't."

"Then it is settled?"

"I believe it is."

The dossier of one Muhammad [REDACTED] Bin [REDACTED] was then placed neatly with the other accepted individuals.

"Right, moving on. Next candidate is Pichon Devereaux."

[EYES ONLY]

Security Clearance Access: Level 8 & Above

From: [REDACTED]

Name: Muhammad [REDACTED] Bin [Redacted]

Age: 24

Nationality: Singaporean

Race: Malay

Religion: Islam

Spoken languages: English [Fluent] Malay [Native] French [Intermediate] Arabic [Fluent] Turkish [Fluent] Mandarin [Intermediate] Farsi [Beginner]

Occupation: Private Security Contractor - 5 Year Contract [2017-2022]

Highest Education: Technical Diploma

Height: 5'63

Weight: 172 Ibs

Psychological Evaluation: A pacifist by nature, Subject's positive and bubbly nature lets him get along well with his colleagues Under duress, has been known to crack and lose cohesiveness. Nevertheless, how he maintains such a high level of morale and remain in such a cheerful state within a high-stress environment continues to impress me. Towards the end of Operation [REDACTED], Subject was found with multiple lacerations across his arms and torso while at the same time carrying a fellow security contractor all the way out of the [REDACTED], refusing to leave the man's side in spite of his own injuries until proper medical care has been administered. Subject later confirms the wounds he suffered were the result of his confrontation with Croft. Subject claims to feel fine despite his first exposure to combat and is eager to return to active duty. Local Commanders are advised to keep Subject under close observation during field operations for any signs of Post-Traumatic-Stress-Disorders [PTSD]. Refer to Addendum-01 attached below for symptoms of PTSD. Cleared Fit To Fight.

Date: [REDACTED]

Signed: Dr [REDACTED]

Side note: It is interesting to note that Subject was the only one out of the many security personnel under our employ to have ever held a civil conversation with Lara Croft as well as engage in hand-to-hand combat with her and lived to tell the tale. Subject wishes to engage Croft in combat once more, owing to the atrocious number of lives she'd taken during Operation [REDACTED].

Relevant Experience:

Security Detail, Turkey - Feb 2017

Security Detail, Poland - May 2017

Operation [REDACTED] - Nov 2017

Referral 1: AGT. Dean Morowitz

Comments: It is my personal request that the one be known as Muhammad be given the opportunity to rise as a Deacon. He has displayed an extreme amount of resilience, tactical competence as well as a strong level of interest in deacon training. I believe despite our difference in religion he would make a great asset in furthering Trinity's goals in the near future.

Referral 2: NIL

Comments: NIL

AN:

Alright, let's have a little Q&A to help fill in some the gaps you guys might have.

(Qn1) Will this story be focusing more on Lara or your OC?

So throughout the entire series, I'll be focusing and revolving the story on my character, who I'll shamelessly admit he's an almost exact carbon copy of me because don't we all wanna be the guy to get even a chance to bang Croft? Yeah, think about it. This story's meant to shadow my OC throughout his journey in Trinity as he tries to make sense of it all and tries to stay ahead of the curve. He'll have a lot of to watch out for; Religious discrimination, Workplace politics, Incompetent leadership, Croft, need I say more?

(Qn2) I like the new concept you've come up with but don't you think having a Muslim working for Trinity would raise a heck of a lot of eyebrows?

Of course it will. I won't lie though, typing this out has been extremely tough, not to mention frustrating at times because of the vast differences in religion and Trinity as we all know from the lore are known for their zealotry. So, I need your support and trust that this will all work out.

(Qn3) So why create a character who's just an enemy grunt? I mean in the game they kinda die easily enough. Why not just create an OC who's some big bad badass like Konstantin or Rourke?

Coming from a military background [I was in the Infantry for 2 years. Short gig, I know but it was fun while it lasted.], I can relate really well from a footsoldier's point of view to what it feels like to do grunt work and this is one of the few things that I can play to my strengths in penning down towards making this story a success. I want to show the readers that we grunts - bad guys or not, each have a story to tell. That we're just as human as the next guy. We've got fears, hopes and dreams. That we're so much more than being just a bunch of unintelligent, faceless meatshields. Besides, you can't be a badass commander if you didn't have equally badass henchmen to carry out your plans, no?

(Qn4) You do realize that SOTR takes place just 2 months after ROTR, right?

Yes, people, I am aware that Shadow Of The Tomb Raider takes place 2 months after Rise, hence her storyline according to canon is still stuck in 2015. Personally, I feel that the canon timeline is too rushed in sending Lara headfirst into another dangerous adventure right after her tussle with Anna. Things work differently in my 'fic. Mainly because there's a gap of almost 3 years between Rise and Shadow. More than enough time for her to rest and recuperate before moving on to harass and destroy enough Trinity cells to actually hurt them. So this is how my Storyline plays out.

Tomb Raider - Mid 2013

Rise - Late 2015

Shadow - Late 2018

[Side note] Lara was born in 1993 so you do the maths in figuring out her age :)

(Qn5) How exactly similar are you in real life as compared to your OC since you say he's an exact carbon copy?

Okay, when I meant carbon copy, I really do mean that. He looks like me, same quirks as me, probably even sound like me. [chuckle]

Aaaand, we've come to the end of our short Q&A! If you're still reading this then you guys are freaking awesome! Reviews are welcome and do drop a PM, I'd be delighted to respond and chat.