Sunlight struggled to filter through the thick jungle foliage, landing on the ground in mottled, uneven patches of yellow and gold. The air was heavy with humidity and buzzed with the activity of thousands of insects. Flashes of bright color, movements and sounds resonated through the leaves. The underbrush vibrated, whispering and sighing under the feet of countless unseen creatures. Overhead, squeals, clicks, caws, and cries bounced back and forth – an echoing concert of varied pitches and tones. The entire jungle hummed with the commotion of wild, untamed life.

Standing alone in the midst of the serene environment was a woman – a stark contrast to her seemingly undeveloped and uncivilized surroundings. She was young and incredibly well built. Muscular legs and thighs were clothed in tight-fitting black shorts. Toned and tanned arms stood bare against an olive-green tank top, the material clinging to her body with perspiration and accentuating the luscious curves of her figure. Glossy, chestnut hair snaked down her back and past her waist in a single braid. Whisps of hair had come loose around her face, attractively framing the enchanting features. Arching eyebrows, full, pouty lips, chocolate-brown eyes, smooth, sculpted cheekbones…that she was wildly beautiful could hardly be contested by anyone.

Strapped to the woman's thighs were twin pistols – 9mms, fully loaded. A utility belt was slung across her thighs, carrying – among other things – several extra ammunition clips, a utility light, and a vicious looking hunting knife. A loaded-down black backpack was slung over her shoulders. She held a small electronic device, a global positioning instrument. It was the latest toy that Bryce had concocted, complete with satellite phone and database for whatever information she felt necessary for her expeditions.

Lara Croft shifted the weight of her backpack. Her eyes were fixed intently in front of her. Looming out of the trees, some 200 paces away, was an enormous stone structure. From where she stood, she could tell immediately that it was Mayan. It was built in the same rough, stair-step pyramid design of other Mayan temples she had seen on past excursions. Multiple levels culminated in a peak several stories high, with the highest point set at about 75 feet above the ground. The Mayans believed they were creating a stairway to the gods – a holy pathway that allowed mortals to reach for beings on a higher plane. Once the temple had been completed by slave labor and consecrated by religious leaders, only the high priest had access to the highest level. For anyone else, climbing to the apex meant certain death, whether by the hand of man or the hand of gods.

Lara studied the temple for several minutes before returning the global positioning device to her pack and moving forward. The location seemed to be accurate for the Temple of Andora, but there was only one sure way to find out. She advanced quickly, barely making a sound as her feet fell softly on the jungle floor. She cautiously pushed the foliage out of her way, eyes and ears tuned into her surroundings. The last thing she needed was a surprise attack from someone with the same vested interest that she had in the temple…

She reached her destination and laid her hands upon the structure. The stone was rough-hewn and warm under the sun's intense rays. A smile played at her sensuously full lips as her fingers traced the edifice that ancient hands had labored to build thousands of years ago. The Mayan people may have rejected their countless religious and political leaders and scattered to the far corners of Central America, but their legacy lived on in the magnificent temples that stubbornly refused to give in to the destructive power of weather, war, and time.

Finding a semi-secure foothold at the bottom of the structure, Lara reached for her belt and unhooked a narrow cable-rope, clawed at one end. She tossed this end upward and felt it bite into the stone above. She tested the grip with her weight and, once satisfied that it would hold, began the slow ascent to the top.

Bits of rock and gravel crumbled under her feet as she climbed. She dug her boots into the stone, using her own weight against the rope as balance. Inch by inch, level by level, she made her way to the top. She paused only to brush the perspiration from her eyes.

At the apex, Lara stopped to survey the view. The jungle was laid out at her feet – miles and miles of wild green landscape, broken only by the muddy-brown paths of lazily-flowing rivers. There was no sign that civilization even existed in this land of the untamed. The heat of the sun, uncomfortable on the jungle floor, was intense and nearly unbearable at the apex of the temple. It turned the air around her into a kaleidoscope of shimmering, melting, blurring waves and set her flesh simmering under its inescapable reach.

Lara set to work, retrieving her climbing rope from the rock and returning it to her belt. She crouched to her knees in examination of the roof's surface. Digging with her fingers, she was able to pull several stones loose. If this Mayan temple followed all the rest, then there should be a small opening at the top, one used by the high priest during sacrifices. Several more stones followed, until she had created a good-sized dent in the facade. Lara reached into her backpack, and pulled out a hammer and chisel. With an impish gleam in her eye, she violently hacked away at the larger and more stubborn stones beneath.

Her hammer had connected with her chisel barely a handful of times when there came a low-pitched, deep rumbling sound from below. The patch of surface she had been working on began to vibrate and move. Thinking fast, Lara threw aside her tools and snatched the hooked end of her rope from her belt. She slammed it as hard as she could into a deep crevice, just as she felt the ground beneath her feet give way and disintegrate into nothing.

The cool air from inside the temple hit her face as she tumbled into darkness. She clawed at the air until her fingers found the rope. She tightened her grip just as she came to the end of the cord. Jerking to a rough stop, Lara hung suspended in the air, some 30 feet below the hole she had just fallen through. A single patch of blue sky peeked down at her, one ray of light against the inky blackness of the temple's interior.

"I think I found the door," she said wryly, her voice echoing off the walls. It was a cultured voice – a British voice, one that suggested an aristocratic upbringing. Her speech was perfectly articulate, perfectly controlled. Yet there was no mistaking the absolute delight, the child-like mirth, that bubbled just beneath the surface.

Lara reached again for her belt, this time to unclip the utility light. She flipped the switch and was instantly bathed in its warm orange glow. Holding it at arm's length, the light fell softly on the temple walls and floors.

Directly below her, about 30 feet down, was an elaborately designed altar, encrusted with gold and precious stones. Chadala, goddess of the afterlife, sat presiding over the sacred place, her arms folded across her chest, ruby-red eyes gleaming brightly in the dim light. Surrounding the altar was a moat, long since dried up. Further out, situated at the four corners of the altar, were pillars. They stretched from the floors to the ceilings and supported three balcony levels – each circling the entire temple and growing progressively narrower as they approached the apex. The highest level was only a body length below her, with the closest section to her left.

Lara immediately noticed that the floors of each level were comprised of brilliantly colored mosaics, each pattern and symbol representing the rank and importance of the holy men who would have stood watch over religious ceremonies. She recognized many of the glyph symbols from her research, but what interested her most were the carved writings that encompassed the altar. "Enter the temple of life," she recited, the familiar words tumbling in quick excitement from her lips, "and fear not the power of death."

If she had any doubts before that she had found the Temple of Andora, they were now completely erased. Eyes glowing bright with exhilaration, Lara hastily returned the light to her belt. She swung herself closer to the highest balcony level and effortlessly dropped down to its surface. She remained in a crouch for several heartbeats, all senses on alert.

The legends about the Temple of Andora were known throughout the modern world of archeology. Long since believed to be the stuff of fairy tales, most of her compatriots – and competition – had written off ever finding it at all. But now that Lara had succeeded in locating it, she was suddenly very aware of the dangers that it was rumored to hold. If those rumors were true, then this would not be as easy as it looked. Lara grinned in anticipation.

Springing into action, she dove off the end of the platform, executed a mid-air front roll, and landed in a crouch on the floor below. Once again Lara paused, waiting, listening. Then, she was off again, repeating the maneuver and landing on the balcony above ground-level. Almost immediately, the floor beneath her gave slightly under her weight. Using the momentum from her dive, she catapulted herself into a backflip. A click-whoosh sounded somewhere to her left, followed by the high-pitched whine of something whizzing through the air. She landed on her feet several yards away in time to see a small dart embed itself into a supporting pillar, directly in line with where her head had been only moments before.

"Darts, is it?" she mused, still smiling wickedly. "Well, alright, then."

Pausing only for a fraction of a second, Lara made a running leap for the edge of the platform. She somersaulted to the ground, then instantly pushed off again, handspringing in the direction of the altar. She could hear the click-whoosh of darts being triggered all around her, and the air became alive with the humming of a dozen or so released weapons. They found their marks on the walls and floors, just barely missing her every time.

Two more front flips, and she had reached the empty moat. She dove in, landing on her side and rolling out of the fall and onto all fours to minimize the impact. Directly in front of her, a gleaming blade suddenly sprang from the stone and sliced the air, inches from her nose. Another rapidly appeared below her, cutting at the space between her hands. With lightning quick reflexes, she arched her body backwards, hands finding the stone floor and pushing herself off in a succession of rapid backflips. The moat became animated with activity, blades materializing from every direction, all hungrily reaching for her flesh. Lara felt one particularly close blade knick her right forearm, slicing the surface of the skin and drawing blood.

Lara landed on her feet and catapulted herself over the edge of the moat. Just as her feet left the ground, she felt the air swish with the movement of blades intended to cut her off at the knees. She cleared the edge with no time to spare and barrel rolled to the ground. Sliding across the stone floor, she had both pistols drawn before she came to a stop. Crouched on one knee, breath coming quickly, Lara was ready for what came next.

Above her, from the mouth of the idol-goddess, came a black, undulating shadow of motion. Scorpions, their tails curled and ready to strike, poured over the head of Chadala and towards the altar in droves. Lara opened fire with both pistols, the cavernous room amplifying the sound to a deafening roar. The idol's head exploded in a cloud of sparks and smoke and released still more of the venomous creatures. They scattered to the floor, clawing their way closer to her.

Lara maintained a steady siege, firing alternately with the 9mms. Her deadly aim never failed as the scorpions were mechanically dusted into oblivion. Once her clips were empty, she released them from the pistols and re-loaded with fresh ammo handily ready at her hips, all in a matter of seconds. She resumed firing, taking a few steps back as the deadly insects crept closer. One by one, they exploded under her relentless attack.

When all that was left of the scorpions were severed body parts, Lara re-holstered her guns. Hands at her hips, she surveyed the damage. Darts randomly littered the walls and floors of the temple. Triggered blades gleamed warningly from the recesses of the barren moat. And the glyph symbols carved around the altar – now presided over by a decapitated Chadala – had become the final resting place of hundreds of dismembered scorpions. "Enter the temple of life, and fear not the power of death," she repeated, the irony not lost on her. "Indeed."

Turning her attention to the altar, Lara noticed a brass plate covering most of the front panel. Pressed into the surface was a symbol – an upside down triangle, with a pictograph at each of its three points. A sun was positioned in the upper left corner, a moon in the upper right, and what appeared to be a rough representation of a man in the lowest angle. Positioned on top of each picture was a golf-ball sized depression.

"This looks familiar," Lara commented, reaching inside her backpack. She pulled out a leather pouch and proceeded to dump its contents into her hand. Three golf-ball sized, colorless gems rolled out onto her palm: courtesy of Mr. Edward Palmer, a client who had decided he didn't want the Trinity Gems after all. Well, to be perfectly honest, Lara thought to herself, it was she who had decided for him. No matter.

Lara carefully placed the stones into the settings on the bronze plate, one-by-one. "Life," she said, positioning the first gem over the sun, "Death…" Stone number two was placed over the moon. "And the space between…" The final stone settled into place over the stick-figure man.

Instantly, the bronze plate rotated clockwise, ancient mechanisms long out-of-use creaking and groaning to life. Hidden cracks appeared along the top edges of the altar and yawned open, revealing a cavern deep inside. With bated breath, Lara flashed her light inside. For a brief instant, she didn't see anything but a heavy casing of cobwebs. Then, she caught sight of what she was after – three scrolls, lying side-by-side in the dust-infested chamber.

Lara peered down at the Codes of Amari, a triumphant shimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. If even a fraction of the rumors surrounding the Codes were true, then with them in her possession, she would be well on her way to the discovery of an artifact long since regarded as impossibly lost and hopelessly irretrievable. An artifact that would garner millions, if not billions, of pounds in revenue. That is, if the fancy struck her to actually sell it instead of keeping it as a part of her ever-growing personal collection.

According to legend, the Codes of Amari held the key to finding the mystical crown worn by the child-ruler some two thousand years ago. Amari had been the daughter of slaves, a mere laborer, when her nation was thrown into a terrible civil war. At that time, the kingdom was ruled over by the corrupted King Sandulian, who was more interested in personal power and wealth than in furthering the good of his nation. The religious leaders under Sandulian were concerned that his enemies would take advantage of the kingdom's weakened state and wage a war to gain their land. They prayed to the gods for guidance and were rewarded with a vision. They saw that the peasants would rise up against Sandulian, and that one girl would be the one to deliver the final death blow to the wicked leader. That girl would be exalted above all others, the only one worthy to wear the crown and rule her people. To give this young girl the strength and wisdom that she needed to govern, Sandulian's crown, once placed upon her head, would give her the power to see both past and future.

As the gods had foretold, the peasants rose up against Sandulian. Amari had been traveling with her family through the capital city when violence broke out. She was caught up in the furious crowd and carried far away from her relatives. In a desperate attempt to find them, Amari climbed to the top of the tallest building. As she stood at the edge, she saw a man on horseback fighting against the poorly armed peasants. Even those who showed no resistance or aggression fell in bloody heaps at the point of his sword. She watched helplessly, the screams of the dying ringing in her ears. Then, just when she thought she could take no more, she saw her own parents viciously slain by the cold-blooded horseman. Choking back fear, she raised a large stone above her head and let it fall. The stone landed squarely on the man's head, killing him instantly. Sandulian had been slain, and the religious leaders had their new ruler.

At the age of twelve, Amari was crowned ruler of her people. With the insight of the crown, she was able to avoid war with neighboring nations and bring peace and tranquility back to her own. However, before she reached her 20th birthday, her own half-brother, Tiranis, stole the crown from her possession. Without the ability to see into the future, she was blindsided and betrayed – murdered by her own flesh and blood. Tiranis believed that with the crown, he would be able to instate himself in Amari's place. However, when he placed the crown upon his head, he was seized in a fit of convulsions. Unworthy of the crown, he fell dead instantly. The religious leaders took possession of the crown and hid it far from their own kingdom. They believed that the spirit of Amari would return seeking the crown and were led by their gods to codify its location and place these documents within the Temple of Andora. Despite their fervent beliefs, Amari never returned, and the location of both the Codes and the crown died with the religious leaders, never to be recovered. Until now…

Lara pushed aside the thoughts as easily as she pushed aside the thousand years' worth of cobwebs enveloping the scrolls. She reached into her backpack and brought out a rectangular metal lockbox, opening it before her on the ground. Inside were three sandbags, each 5 pounds in weight. She mentally noted that this would have to be a swift task, if the weights were off by even a fraction of an ounce. What shall it be? Hard way, or easy way?

Ever so slowly, Lara reached her hand to the first scroll, simultaneously lowering a sandbag into place. Steadying her grip, she paused almost imperceptibly. Then, in one swift motion, she caught the scroll in her hand and positioned the sandbag in its vacated place. She held her breath, waiting.

Silence. Lara relaxed, smiling to herself. Her relief was short-lived.

Without warning, the entire temple began to quake and break apart, cracks forming at the walls and ceilings. Stones from above tumbled to the ground and stirred up a hazy cloud of dust, and the supporting pillars swayed ominously under their own weight, threatening to topple over at any moment.

"I always did prefer the hard way." Lara grabbed the two remaining scrolls in one hand and the Trinity Gems in the other and dumped them all unceremoniously into the lockbox.  In one fluid motion, she scooped the box off the ground and sprang, cat-like, atop the altar. With her free hand, she grabbed for a small-looking pistol at her waist. Taking aim, she fired it off with a shrill pop. A cable shot into the air and burrowed itself into the ceiling, a few feet from the opening at the apex.

With a flying leap, Lara propelled herself up and into the air. She landed feet-first on the edge of the middle balcony and was immediately forced to duck and roll as a boulder three times the size of her head came plummeting down from above. The impact of the boulder instantly sent the balcony shivering with paroxysms of violent motion, tearing the cable from her grasp and threatening to take her down with the rest of the doomed temple. She struggled to maintain her balance and watched as the cable slipped well out of her reach.

Still grasping the lockbox tightly to her chest with one hand, Lara threw herself over the edge. Her fingers closed around the cable, and her body slid down the length of it for several feet before she could tighten her hold and stop her downward motion. Behind her, she heard the rumbling of the balcony levels collapsing and falling into one another. Time was scarce and becoming more so with every passing second.

Lara reached behind her, lockbox in hand, and secured it in the space between her backpack and shoulder blades. With both hands free, she shimmied up the cable, ducking and covering with each new barrage of plunging stones and debris. Her limbs flexed lithely and with surprising speed as she inched closer to the opening at the apex. In a matter of moments, she had grabbed a hold of the edge and was hauling herself out onto the surface of the roof.

She had barely gained her footing when the entire temple shuddered beneath her. Lara sprinted down the way she had come up, vaguely aware that the roof had begun to divide and open up in a multitude of places. She effectively dodged the fissures until the grip of her boots gave out under an avalanche of loose gravel. Fighting for her balance and finally losing, Lara tumbled down the rest of the way on her back. She could feel the rough stones tearing at her shirt and cutting into her skin. Lara dug her fingernails into the temple's surface in a half-successful attempt to slow her fall.

With a hard thump, she reached the ground. She rolled out and away, climbing to her feet in quick, almost graceful, fashion. Lara heard the temple cave in completely as she escaped to the relative safety of the trees. She turned back to see a cloud of dust rising from the earth in ghostly obscurity. The faint outline of what was left of the Temple of Andora stood faintly against the haze: one full pillar and half of another, one wall, and a massive heap of unstable stones.

Lara stood, covered from head-to-toe in dark-gray dust, blood running down her right forearm, shirt shredded to near pieces, and smiled. Her dark eyes laughed with roguish delight. "Now that was fun."