And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

W.B. Yeats.


Kurtis' strange weapon lay in a pool of blood on the arena floor.

Lara approached the spot with a growing sense of foreboding, her footsteps echoing forlornly about the immense space. The arena was empty now, save for the mutilated carcass of the creature formerly known as Boaz. Lara gave this a wide berth as she paused to lean against one of the mechanisms that had lifted up the floor, holding her stomach and grimacing in pain. The explosion back in Eckhardt's lab was still ringing in her ears. She had barely escaped it with her life.

Her mysterious companion was nowhere to be found, despite the signs of a fierce battle here. This fact should have brought her some comfort; he had obviously won his own war. But she could not ignore the voice in her head which told her he may have left this place only to collapse elsewhere. Either way the situation looked bleak. There was just so much blood.

Lara bent down to pick up Kurtis' weapon, jumping slightly when the blades sprang out and the disc began to vibrate. It seemed to have a mind of its own. As she straightened to her feet the weapon suddenly jerked and pulled her body around in the direction of the arena door. The weapon gave one last tug, beckoning her onwards, before the blades smoothly retracted and then became still.

Lara smiled a knowing smile as she lowered the disc. Then she left the devastation of the Strahov behind her and headed for the open door - an angel slowly fading into the darkness.