The air was thick with humidity, the scent of damp earth and moss clinging to every surface. Vines crawled over the crumbling stone walls, remnants of a civilization lost to time. Ellie moved cautiously, her switchblade in hand, eyes scanning the ruins for any sign of movement. She had been tracking a supply cache rumored to be hidden here, but something felt… off.

A twig snapped.

Ellie spun, raising her revolver. “Who’s there?” she called out, heart pounding.

From the shadows, a figure emerged—bow drawn, muscles tense. A woman, dressed in tattered cargo pants and a tank top, mud smeared across her arms. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, locked onto Ellie like a predator sizing up its prey.

“Lower the gun,” the woman said, her British accent cutting through the silence.

Ellie narrowed her eyes but didn’t lower her weapon. “Not until you lower that bow.”

A beat passed. Then, with a small nod, the woman eased her grip, lowering her weapon but not fully relaxing.

“You’re not with Trinity,” the woman observed.

Ellie frowned. “The hell is Trinity?”

That made the stranger hesitate, studying Ellie more closely. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Ellie scoffed. “No shit.” She tucked her revolver back into her waistband but didn’t let her guard down. “Who are you?”

The woman exhaled, lowering her bow completely. “Lara. Lara Croft.”

Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Cool. I’m Ellie. So, uh… you always sneak up on people like that?”

“Only when they wander into dangerous places alone,” Lara replied, scanning the ruins. “This jungle isn’t kind to survivors.”

Ellie smirked. “Yeah, well, neither am I.”

Lara gave a small, knowing smile. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”