I stood in the doorway, watching her from across the room. She didn't flinch when I walked in, her stance casual, like I hadn't just caught her red-handed. The journal was gone, hidden away somewhere only she would know. Or so she thought. I, well, I had more than an inkling of where it was.
But she didn't need to know that.
"Miss me?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy grin.
Lara just snorted. "Barely."
I felt a faint stir of satisfaction. There was something about how effortlessly she played it cool that made me want to see her crack. Not that I would make it easy for her. Not yet.
I didn't rush over to her, didn't make any sudden moves. I just let the silence fill the space between us, giving her a moment to decide if she was going to lie about the notebook or admit she'd seen what was written inside.
But, she didn't. Which was okay to me.
"You've had time to think about my proposal." I said, pushing myself off the doorframe and strolling toward the table. "So what's it going to be, Lara? You still in the 'skeptical' camp, or have you come around?"
She gave me a look—calm, cool, and calculating. "I don't chase myths without evidence." She said, voice even. She didn't even look up from the stack of documents she'd been pretending to read. "Stories are nice, but they don't make you any richer."
I leaned in just enough that my presence was undeniable, though I didn't let my smile slip. "I'm not offering you a story, Lara. I'm offering you proof."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, the faintest trace of doubt crossing her features. If I didn't know any better, she could have fooled me.
"I've got evidence." I said, my voice lowering just slightly. "Photos. Data. Everything you need to know is in here." I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out the USB drive, letting it rest in the palm of my hand like it weighed nothing at all.
Lara eyed it for a long moment, her gaze narrowing. She was already running calculations behind those sharp eyes of hers. And that's when I knew.
"You expect me to trust this?" She asked, her tone bordering on incredulous.
I let the silence stretch for a beat, the tension thick in the air. "Trust?" I repeated with a grin. "No. I expect you to believe it."
Her fingers twitched, as if she was trying to decide whether to reach for it or not. She didn't. Not yet.
"You'll need more than an empty flash drive to convince me." She said, but there was a crack in her voice now. The edge had softened.
"I don't need to convince you." I replied, my voice low and steady. "I just need you to look."
Lara didn't waste a single second after hearing my words. She snatched the USB drive from my hand with the precision of a seasoned hunter. Not a glance my way, her eyes already fixed on the door leading to the next room.
"Stay here." She said, her lips barely moving, already deep into her digital world. "I'll get my laptop. Don't move."
I nodded, though I'm pretty sure she didn't expect me to listen. She spun on her heel, disappearing into the room behind her, leaving me alone with the statue.
My hand moved before I could think twice. The statue sat there, untouched, its jade-green color gleaming faintly in the dim light. The fish's open mouth, as inviting as it was silent.
Time wasn't on my side. She wouldn't be gone long, but every second counted. I slipped the medallion off my neck, the cool metal grazing my fingers as I palmed it, hiding it before anyone could see. I leaned over the statue, careful to keep my movements smooth, steady.
I pressed the medallion into the fish's mouth. It clicked.
The weight of anticipation made my pulse quicken as I lifted the top of the statue. Inside was exactly what I was hoping for. A small hidden compartment. My fingers slipped inside, finding what I needed—an object, wrapped carefully in tattered cloth. I pulled it out, feeling the shape. It was what I came for.
But just as I was about to slip it into my palm and close the statue, I heard footsteps.
Lara was coming back.
I didn't even have the time to close the statue. She opened the door so quickly, that I almost let go of the map in my hand. Laptop in her hand, she did a quick scan of the room before locking her eyes on the tatter paper in my hand.
Her gaze didn't waver, fixed on my hand like it had become the only thing in the room that mattered. I could feel her eyes probing, dissecting, but she didn't say anything at first.
We stood there in that thick silence, the weight of her unspoken thoughts pressing down on me. Her question had hung in the air—sharp, knowing.
Finally, she spoke again, her voice lighter, though there was an edge to it. "I didn't know the statuettes could open." She finally said flatly, her eyes flicking back to the fish-shaped relic on the table. "Then again… I suppose I didn't know much about them to begin with."
Her words were casual, but the undertone wasn't lost on me. It was subtle, but she was letting me know she knew. She knew that what I had in my hand came from the statue.
I tried to mask the tightness in my chest with a nonchalant shrug. "Guess you can't know everything, can you?"
Lara's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. It wasn't smug, but it was close. "No, I suppose not. But I'm starting to think I know a little more than you might have hoped."
My stomach did a little flip. She was right. She was onto me.
She didn't push the point immediately, but the way her eyes lingered on my hand, on the folded cloth I was still gripping, told me everything I needed to know. She didn't have all the answers, but she was putting it together. Piece by piece.
"You came here for more than just a pretty statue, didn't you?" Lara said, her voice soft, but her eyes sharp. "You came here for something else. And I think that something else is exactly what you're holding right now."
I could've sworn my heart skipped a beat. I didn't dare look down at the object in my hand. I had to keep my cool.
"Well, you're not wrong." I said, forcing the words out in the most casual tone I could muster.
Lara's smile widened just a fraction, the kind of smile that meant she had all the time in the world to make me sweat. "I thought so."
Lara's eyes narrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. I could feel the tension shift in the room. She wasn't satisfied with the vague answers I'd given. Not again.
"What is it, Arthur?"
Her voice was calm—too calm. That kind of stillness people use when they're either about to lose it or already know the answer. But underneath that controlled tone was something hungrier. A quiet desperation that said she wasn't leaving without the truth. Or at least a piece of it.
"What did you find inside the statue? What's on that piece of… cloth?"
I hesitated. A flicker of doubt skated across my mind like a shadow at the edge of a flame. Should I tell her? The whole thing? What if she put the pieces together? What if she already had?
But I'd come this far. Backing out now would only make her suspicious. She was smart. Like 'solve-a-murder-with-a-broken-toothpick-and-a-hunch' smart. But as long as she didn't know the truth—the real truth—I'd survive this conversation. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.
The thing is, whatever I write in that journal—if someone believes it? It becomes real. Just like that. No warning. No dramatic drumroll. It simply is.
But there are loopholes. Thank God for loopholes. Like the fact that Lara believes my medallion is the key to my 'research' on Atlantis. Why? Because I wrote it that way. And someone else believed the statues hid secret maps, so even if Lara hadn't read that entry herself, it didn't matter. The belief had already done the heavy lifting. Reality had been... updated.
I'd even erased that section from my journal, but that didn't undo anything. Not when the belief was already cemented. Especially since Lara had been convinced from the get-go that her artifact was holding some ancient, world-shattering secret. She wasn't challenging the illusion—she was reinforcing it. Like an accidental co-conspirator with great cheekbones.
And the truth? I never intended to show her the map. Not yet.
Even after a week of planning—A week. That's practically a lifetime in panic terms—I knew it wasn't enough. You don't just think you can casually outmaneuver Lara Croft. That's how people end up losing their lives. Or worse— as a meme on YouTube looking stupid.
I'd even factored in the possibility that Lara had some kind of meta plot armor. Like the universe itself wanted her to discover the truth about my powers. Or that Atlantis didn't technically exist. Yet.
Which is why today's plan had been simple: get a verbal agreement for future cooperation. Drop some breadcrumbs. Maybe accidentally let her borrow my journal—just enough to nudge her curiosity, not blow the whole thing wide open.
Because if I gave her the journal on my terms, I controlled the narrative. I'd feed her what I wanted her to know, when I wanted her to know it. That way, I could stay ten steps ahead. Or at least five. Okay, maybe three.
That's also why I'd snuck in and stole the map from her statue before she had the chance to find it herself. Because once she knew? She'd want to leave. Immediately. On an adventure. With me. And as thrilling as that sounds, it was also a one-way ticket to getting exposed. And not the fun kind of exposed. The terrifying, 'your-whole-fake-reality-falls-apart' kind.
But now? That ship had sailed. And taken my plausible deniability with it.
I lifted the cloth slowly, letting it unfurl just enough to reveal the edge of aged parchment—its edges cracked and curling like it had survived centuries of bad decisions.
Lara's eyes narrowed, flicking between the fragment and my face. "A piece of a map?"
Her voice was calm again, but the spark in her eyes told me she was already halfway packed.
"Exactly."
I let the word land like a challenge. Like a dare wrapped in velvet.
"A piece of a map. And this—" I nodded toward the fish-shaped statue lying like an innocent accomplice on the table. "—it's just one of several. Each statuette holds a fragment. And together?"
I leaned in, giving her the kind of look that sells secrets and starts wars.
"They lead to Atlantis."
Lara was quiet, her mind clearly doing the mental equivalent of flipping through ancient scrolls and solving twenty puzzles at once.
Her lips pursed slightly. Not the I disapprove kind of purse, but more of a this-is-interesting-but-I-might-still-punch-you-later kind. Her eyes flicked to the fragment I held, then back to my face. There it was—the flicker. The tiniest spark of suspicion. But she didn't voice it. Not yet.
"So, what you're telling me." She began, each word carefully measured, "Is that you're going to collect all these pieces, and once you do, you'll know where Atlantis is?"
I nodded. Calmly. Or at least I pretended to. Inside, my brain was screaming in seventeen dialects of panic, all of them competing in vain with a certain notorious shinigami when it came to overcomplicating plans.
"That's the idea." I said, tone casual. "Each statue holds one part of the map. When they're combined, they're supposed to show the way. Like some magical GPS from ancient times."
She tilted her head. Curious. Skeptical. Possibly plotting my immediate dissection.
"Atlantis?" She asked, her voice laced with just enough doubt to make it clear—this was my last chance to be honest. But I couldn't quite figure out what she was expecting to hear. Which made it harder to give her what she needed.
And that's when it hit me.
If it was only about Atlantis—just a magical, legendary, sunken city—I could've told her everything ages ago. I should've. Because, background checks are the bare minimum when you want to partner with someone. And Lara Croft? She wasn't the kind of person to backstab someone for a discovery. She was an archaeologist at heart with a liking for discovery. Fame wasn't her main drive. Not even her second or third.
Which meant the real reason I hadn't told her wasn't about trusting her on Atlantis. It was because, deep down, I knew the map didn't just lead to Atlantis. And I didn't know what choice she will make when she secret of my real goal.
'Hah… Even when I tell myself not to underestimate her, I still did it...'
If I wanted this to work, I had to stop treating her like some NPC in my story. This was Lara Croft. Plot armor included.
"Not exactly." I said, the words slow and hesitant, like they were afraid of being judged. "It leads to the Trident of the Oceans. According to what I've found, whoever the trident deems worthy becomes the true king of Atlantis. Apparently, the city's gates can only be opened by it. No trident, no entrance."
And there it was. That shift in her expression. Subtle, but clear. Her brain just clicked into as expected mode.
"So you're collecting ancient fish statues to find a trident that makes you royalty." She asked, one brow arched so high it could've passed for a skyline. "Seriously? A trident? Can't it be more cliché?"
I shrugged, trying to look like this was just another Tuesday. "That's the myth. But it's not just a shiny oversized fork. It's something… more."
Lara stared at me for a long moment, the intensity of her gaze almost unnerving. She didn't speak, but I could tell she was weighing my words, piecing the puzzle together. She was smart—too smart, maybe.
Finally, she crossed her arms, a slow smile spreading across her face. "And you think you can just collect all these pieces and—what? Walk right into Atlantis?"
I met her gaze, unflinching. "Why not?"
Her smile deepened, but there was something darker behind it now. "Because, Arthur, finding Atlantis isn't as simple as collecting trinkets and following a map. There's more to it than you're letting on. And you don't even know half of what you're dealing with. Trust me—there's always some unexpected, overly complicated disaster waiting right before you succeed. That's experience talking."
I felt the shift in her tone—less playful banter, more warning. But I didn't back down. I wasn't going to show her more than I already had.
"You're right about one thing." I said, slipping the piece of the map into my pocket. "It's never simple. But that's what makes it worth the risk."
Lara didn't respond immediately, but her eyes narrowed in that way that meant she wasn't done with me yet. Not by a long shot. But she was willing to play along—for now.
Her lips parted, and I could almost see the question forming behind her eyes. But instead of asking it, she reached over and grabbed her laptop, turning it on with a decisive click.
"You've been through quite a bit to get your hands on these pieces." She said, her voice quieter now, the skepticism starting to fade.
I couldn't help but notice the change in her tone. Less interrogator, more believer. A little crack had opened in her wall of doubt. Just enough for the story to start seeping in.
And it wasn't just her that was changing.
My fingers curled against the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white. The sensation of something… different spreading through me. It wasn't just memories anymore. It was me. Changing. Shifting. Adapting. My muscles were more defined. My posture, straighter. My senses—sharper.
I wasn't just remembering who I was.
I was becoming him.
The rich american orphan with dubious origins.
Lara didn't seem to notice the slight change in my expression. She was absorbed in her laptop, typing furiously as she pulled up photos from the USB drive.
I had to distract her. Keep her focused.
"Well, now that you have your computer." I said, trying to sound casual, "I think it's time you saw the rest of what I've got. There are a few more photos that might help."
Lara's fingers paused on the keyboard, and she glanced up at me. "Photos? What kind of photos?"
I reached into my bag, pulling out a few more printed pictures I'd collected—images of fishmen engravings taken near Australia, ancient artifacts, and even a few underwater ruins I'd "stumbled upon" during my research. And magically the images fit perfectly into the narrative I was weaving. Each one would lead her deeper into this world I was creating. And it was working. She was about to take the bait.
"These." I said, placing the photos in front of her, "Are a few places I've been to. A few leads that didn't quite pan out, but they're all tied to the map, to the trident. I think they might help you see things I never noticed before. After two pair of eyes are better than one."
Lara didn't say anything at first, but I could see her eyes scan each picture, taking in the details, her sharp mind already connecting dots that I wasn't even aware of. I could feel her curiosity grow stronger with each glance.
Then she looked up, her gaze more intense now. "You've been to these places?"
I nodded slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. "Of course. I've even risked my life in some of those place. But like I said, it will be worth it."
Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to ask more, but she didn't. She just nodded once and returned her focus to the laptop. The hum of the machine filled the silence as she began to open the photos I'd transferred onto the USB.
As I watched her, I couldn't shake the feeling that I wasn't just showing her pictures anymore—I was showing her a reality that was no longer mine. The more she looked, the more this world felt like it had always been real, like I was always meant to be part of it. The memories, the changes—everything was falling into place.
I watched her take in the photos, waiting for her to react. When she finally looked up, her eyes met mine with a strange intensity.
"This is all…" She trailed off, but she didn't need to finish. The words were in the air between us, unspoken but understood. She was starting to believe it. To believe me.
"You're really committed for a financial investor, huh?" She said quietly. "I can see that you're not going to quit halfway."
I smiled, leaning back in my chair. "Of course. And now that you're on-board, you're not going to stop until you find it, either."
Lara's eyes flickered toward the statuette on the table again, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Maybe not." She said softly. "But I'm not sure I'm ready to buy everything you're selling just yet."
I laughed lightly, more to cover the growing tension than anything else. "That's the beauty of this whole thing. It's all about the journey, Lara. The answers are out there. And I'm just trying to make sure you're not left behind when we find them. Because I can guarantee you, that by staying with me, you're going to see things you've never seen before."
She didn't respond immediately, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. She was still holding on to some skepticism, but I knew it wouldn't last much longer. Because there was also expectation. She was far too clever, too driven. And now she was in this with me—whether she realized it or not.
-----------------------------------
After five minutes of browsing through my pictures, to make sure they were real, Lara decided to study the piece of parchment I had just—very nonchalantly, might I add—pulled from inside her precious fish statue like it was a vending machine surprise. She hadn't said a word since I'd confessed what it was. Not about it being a map. Not about it supposedly leading to a trident opening the gate of Atlantis. Not even about the fact that I'd clearly lied to her about the medallion earlier.
Which, in my defense, was absolutely for survival reasons.
Finally, she looked up. "So, I guess you so happened to have another piece of this map, right? From your statue."
I nodded.
"And with only those two, can we roughly know the tridents location?"
"Not at all." I admitted. "I speculate that we will need at least three pieces to know the general direction. But the five would be needed for the precise location—because yes, I deduced the fact that there were five pieces because there are only five known underwater civilizations. Unfortunately, having only two pieces is not enough to find the trident, and my map only pointed out El Santuario de los Silencios. Where you found your artifact. So, my guess is that your map like mine, should lead to another fish. A.K.A. another piece of the map."
"Which is where exactly? That writing… it's not any language I recognize." She murmured, leaning in slightly but not reaching for it.
"That's because it's not from any known linguistic root." I replied casually, like I hadn't just made the whole thing up a few days ago in a magical notebook. "It's… aquatic. Sort of."
Her brow lifted in that very British I'm-trying-not-to-say-you're-insane kind of way. "Aquatic? As in… underwater alphabet soup?"
"Not quite. Think ancient coastal civilizations. Atlantean. People who probably spent more time talking to fish than to each other. The script's been lost for centuries."
She tilted her head. "And you just… know how to read it?"
I gave a one-shoulder shrug. "Let's call it a gift."
That earned me a knowing glance, but she leaned in anyway when I pointed to one particular symbol near the edge of the parchment.
"This one here." I said, tapping lightly on the table. "It's the name of our destination. If I'm right, it refers to a place called Nordreholm."
"Nordreholm…" She echoed, turning back to her laptop. Her fingers moved like she was hacking into the Pentagon. "That name doesn't exist anymore."
"That's to be expected." I said, because of course it didn't. That map should be older than hell.
"But it used to. A coastal village in northern Norway. Abandoned after a massive landslide in the 1800s. Not even on most modern maps." She stopped typing. "It was a fishing village north of Tromsø. Buried in rubble. Locals still tell ghost stories about it."
I grinned. "Sounds like the perfect place to hide an ancient artifact, doesn't it?" But internally, I found it odd that a village from ancient Greek times could still exist until the 19th century. And because I didn't have time to write that kind of thing, I couldn't know the why and how.
She stared at the parchment again. "You really believe there's another one of those fish statues up there?"
"I don't just believe it." I said. "I know it. Each statue contains a piece of this… map. You gather all the pieces, and it leads you to Atlantis."
Or, you know, the Trident of the Oceans. But that's only a tiny detail.
Lara stared at me for a moment too long, and I could practically hear her inner archaeologist screaming red flag, red flag. But then—like only someone who's discovered tombs filled with mummies could—she leaned back in her chair and said, "Fine. Norway it is. Clearly a romantic spot for tourism."
I smirked. "You've clearly never dated me."
She smiled before adopting a more serious look.
"But if we end up in the middle of nowhere with nothing but frostbite and fish jokes." She added. "I will personally throw you into the ocean."
"Fair."
She reached out and shook my hand.
Now, it was official. We were partners. In possibly the dumbest, most dangerous, most thrilling treasure hunt in history.
Then, without a word, she picked up the USB stick from earlier and turned toward her bag.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"You wanted me to see these photos, right?" She said over her shoulder. "I'll get all the time to do it on the plane."
To that, I could only smile helplessly. Even though I was really happy inside. Because the truth? I hadn't just convinced Lara Croft to help me find Atlantis. I'd convinced her to indirectly give me some real power to survive in the Marvel universe.
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(A/N: Sorry for the delay. I'm not used to write more than 2 thousand words per chapter. And I actually forgot to post yesterday too 😅. I'll try to do better though.)