The air was hot and humid. I pulled off all the flying gear, revealing a tight black crop top, teamed with camouflage shorts and a jet black belt. I retrieved a grey backpack and zipped up my brownish-grey boots and tightened my holsters, checking that my Vector-R35’s were securely in place. Then I re-plaited my unsettled hair and brushed the dust that had settled off my bare skin. Finally I slipped on a pair of black fingerless gloves. I arose to see Kurtis transfixed on me.
"You're dressing like you used to."
"I know. It takes me back to other times."
Dust rolled down the entrance to the dig. The entire operation had been cornered off with aging tape. No one had been here for a good twenty years. The steps were unstable and one broke under my weight. I fell for a fraction of a second then gasped as I grabbed a protruding ledge. Kurtis' voice echoed.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes, just be careful. The steps are ancient."
Soon Kurtis joined me and a small torch revealed that the floor was in sight.
The walls were covered in ancient paintings and etchings in another language. The pictures depicted rituals, I could gather that. But the language was unknown to me. I glanced at the pictures for a while, then I realised. There were twelve assembled around a golden, glowing orb. The symbol of the Infinitio was engraved into the cloaks of all of the twelve. So many things flooded to mind that my brain couldn't contain it all. I realised that the twelve represented the disciples of Jesus. Hebrew was a tongue I wasn't so familiar with, but I attempted a translation.
"Alpha and Omega signifies the beginning and the end, but we are the future."
So...they were 'Neo Disciples?' I consulted Kurtis.
"So the Cup of Jamshid is to these...like the Holy Grail?"
I gasped. He could well have been right.
And whenever higher powers became involved, things became ugly.
Suddenly screeching bats flew from a crevice in the wall. Kurtis was stunned, but with his strange weapon and my trusty pistols, we made light work of them.
"That's the thing I hate about bats, is that they always mean there are worse things to come." I moaned.
Right on cue, a strange, undead skeleton stumbled out into the tomb, wailing. But then it wasn't prepared for our slick teamwork.
And quickly recalling past events, I realised Karel hadn't been prepared either.