The cold was the first sensation to pierce the watery blackness, a shock so profound it felt like a thousand needles driving into Leo's exposed skin. It wasn't just the temperature of the ocean; it was the bone-deep chill of a near-death experience, amplified by the sudden, violent jolt of his consciousness rebooting.
He coughed, a racking, painful spasm that tasted of salt, motor oil, and bile. His lungs burned, but then, miraculously, they drew a deep, ragged breath of air.
Leo opened his eyes to a turbulent grey sky, the remnants of the storm still spitting rain, and the angry churn of the sea. He was bobbing in the dark water, clinging desperately to a large, jagged piece of wreckage—a remnant of the Endurance's shattered hull. His knuckles were white, his grip fueled by pure, desperate instinct.
He was alive. Again.
System Alert!
The translucent blue-and-gold panel shimmered into view, slightly out of focus due to the seawater, but impossible to ignore.
[Host: Leo]
[Death Count: 1]
[System Protocol: New Game Plus – Initial Load Complete.]
[Current Trait: Survivor's Luck (Passive)]
Description: When faced with lethal failure in a controlled environment, the Host has a low chance of an unplanned 'System Override' to ensure survival. (Consumes 50% of current accumulated XP to activate.)
[Current Skill: Quick-Time Reflexes (Active)]
Description: Allows the Host to momentarily perceive and react to environmental threats with superhuman speed, mimicking a Quick-Time Event. Duration: 1 second. Cooldown: 60 minutes.
[Inventory Slot 1: Empty]
[Inventory Slot 2: Empty]
[Inventory Slot 3: Empty]
[Primary Mission: Survive the Sinking of the 'Endurance']
Status: Failed (System Override Activated).
[NEW PRIMARY MISSION: Escape Yamatai.]
Objective: Reach the Mainland.
Reward: Full System Integration and Level 1 Attribute Points Allocation.
Leo wanted to laugh, but all that came out was a wet, hysterical gasp.
"System Override," he muttered, his teeth chattering uncontrollably. "So, that's why my heart stopped. It used the energy from my old life, my experience, to fuel this one. Fifty percent of my accumulated XP... what XP? My life was playing video games!"
He tried to summon a new panel, a Status page, but the System simply displayed an error. [Error: Full System Integration Requires Primary Mission Completion.]
"Great," he spat, wiping water from his face. "Stuck with two skills and a mission that's basically 'don't die on this cursed island.' Standard Isekai garbage. Except, this is Tomb Raider. The garbage is literal, and the enemies are samurai ghosts."
A new sound cut through the ringing in his ears—not the storm, but the sickening THUD-CRACK of wood against rock. He was dangerously close to the shore, but also dangerously close to being pulped against the sharp, volcanic stone.
He kicked out, trying to paddle his wreckage raft. He needed to get past the initial line of breakers. The Quick-Time Reflexes skill felt like a safety net, but it had a sixty-minute cooldown, and he'd used it just to survive the ship's breakup. He was on his own.
A huge wave surged over him, swallowing him whole. He tumbled, losing his grip on the wreckage, panicking as the memory of his real drowning—the one the System only overrode—flashed through his mind.
He fought blindly, his new, stronger body struggling against the undertow. His hand smacked against something solid and coarse. Wood. He clung to it, letting the force of the water drag him.
The next second, he was violently shoved onto hard ground. He sprawled face-first onto sharp, black sand, coughing up lungfuls of seawater. The sound of the waves retreating was a temporary reprieve.
He hauled himself forward, crawling past the high-tide line until he collapsed, gasping, on the cold, wet shore. The rain had become a drizzle, and in the distance, a few points of light flickered on the remnants of the broken ship, still being battered by the waves.
He lay there for a long time, the cold seeping into his bones, the exhaustion absolute. He felt like a drowned doll, stripped of everything but the tattered clothes on his back and the impossible, glowing panel in his mind.
When he finally forced himself to sit up, the first thing he did was look for her.
He scanned the immediate vicinity—rocky ledges, piles of debris, dark, forested hills rising inland.
There.
About twenty yards away, nestled between two large boulders, was a huddled figure. Lara Croft. She was shivering, clutching her arms, her head resting on her knees. She was soaked, bruised, and alone. But alive.
Leo felt an immense, irrational wave of relief wash over him. He wasn't entirely alone in this nightmare, and the protagonist of his new life was intact.
He tried to call out, but his throat was raw. He settled for crawling, his movements clumsy and weak now that the adrenaline had fled.
"Lara," he croaked, dragging himself close.
She snapped her head up, her eyes wide, wild, and instantly assessing him as a threat, then recognizing him as the chaotic, mysterious person who had forcibly saved her life moments ago. She was already on high alert, a survivalist even in despair.
"You," she said, her voice rough, hoarse. "How… how did you know the ship was going to split?"
He pushed his soaked hair out of his eyes, the cuts and scrapes on his face stinging. He knew he couldn't tell her the truth. 'Oh, I died in a hospital and got Isekai'd into your video game, and I know the plot because I played it a thousand times.' That would get him committed to a mental asylum, or worse, deemed an unstable threat by the very person he needed to cooperate with.
He had to blend the truth with a believable lie—a lie that utilized his meta-knowledge without revealing the source.
He shivered violently. "I… I was with the engineering team for a bit. Before the storm hit, I heard them arguing. The Endurance was old, the structural integrity of the forward boiler section was questionable. When that first wave hit, I heard the sound... it was a shear stress failure, not just a puncture. The ship was going to fail at the central seam."
It was a good lie. It sounded technical, urgent, and focused on observation rather than prophecy.
Lara stared at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She was an archaeologist, a logic-driven individual. The explanation, while terrifying, sounded plausible enough to suspend disbelief in their current dire circumstances.
"And the hatch?" she persisted, her focus sharp. "You knew exactly where to go. And you saved me from that beam."
"Instinct," Leo said, leaning back against the boulder, trying to project a calm, capable demeanor his trembling body didn't possess. "Survival instinct. My name is Leo."
"Lara," she replied, the introduction curt but genuine. She was still studying him, her eyes searching for any sign of deception or madness. "We owe you. Thank you."
The simple acknowledgment warmed him more than the soaked wool of his jumper. He was part of the story now.
The small break in the storm didn't last. The wind picked up, howling through the desolate landscape. It was utterly miserable.
"We can't stay here," Lara said, her practical side immediately asserting itself. She stood up, wincing slightly—a visible injury that confirmed she hadn't come out of the sinking completely unscathed. "We'll die of hypothermia. We need shelter, and maybe a signal."
Leo nodded, pushing himself up. The energy in his new body was slow to return, but it was there, a dull, aching resource waiting to be tapped. He glanced up at the menacing, jagged peaks of the island.
"The wreck of the Endurance is still visible, barely," Leo said, pointing out to sea. "Any supplies would be washed up along this beach or slightly inland. We should start moving north, checking the debris line. We need tools, a way to make fire, and—"
He stopped. His eyes had fixed on something half-buried in the black sand, something that had washed up with the tide.
It was a small, crudely carved wooden idol. It had a grotesque, vaguely Shinto design, but the carvings were too primitive, too dark. As he looked at it, the air suddenly felt heavier, thicker.
Lara followed his gaze, her archaeologist instincts tingling. "What is that?"
"Don't touch it," Leo warned, a chilling certainty settling in his gut. This wasn't just debris. This was a piece of the lore, an indication of where they were. Yamatai. The Sun Queen Himiko. The storms. The Solarii.
"It looks... old. And definitely of this region," Lara murmured, kneeling to examine it, ignoring his warning.
"Lara, seriously. We need to focus on survival."
As he spoke, a flash of movement high up in the rocks caught his eye. Just a flicker, but undeniable. Someone was watching them.
His gamer mind instantly cataloged the threat: Solarii Scavenger – Low-Level Hostile.
"We are not alone," Leo hissed, reaching out and grasping Lara's arm, pulling her roughly to her feet. "Up in the rocks. I saw someone."
Lara's eyes narrowed, instantly snapping into focus. She looked where he pointed, but the figure, if it was one, was gone. Yet, her posture changed completely, shifting from weary survivor to cautious combatant.
"What did you see?" she whispered.
"A man. Ragged clothes, maybe a mask. He was watching the shore. They're scavengers, survivors, but they're hostile. The people who live here… they're dangerous." He was revealing more meta-knowledge, banking on the idea that in a life-or-death situation, being right was more important than explaining how he knew.
Lara didn't question his knowledge again. She trusted his warning on the ship, and now, her instinct told her to trust this one too. "Then we need a weapon. Do you see anything?"
Leo scanned the debris field. Twisted metal, splintered wood, and… a dull glint near a submerged rock.
"Over there," he pointed, already jogging toward it. "A rusty pipe. Not much, but better than nothing."
He managed to pry the heavy pipe free. It was about three feet long, dented, and cold. He gripped it, testing its weight. It felt surprisingly good in his hand. Melee Weapon Acquired: Rusted Pipe. The System didn't show the notification, but he felt the connection—the knowledge of how to swing it for maximum impact.
He handed it to Lara. "You take it. I'll search for something else."
Lara hesitated for a moment, looking at his bare hands, then at the pipe. "Why?"
"Because you're the one with the combat training, clearly," Leo lied smoothly, his eyes on the hill. "I'm just a glorified navigator. You'll make better use of it."
It was a risk, making himself vulnerable, but he needed to solidify the trust. He needed her to be the front-line DPS while he was the support/strategist.
Lara nodded, her expression grim. She gripped the pipe tightly, holding it like a club, her stance instantly becoming more guarded. "Let's move. We head into the trees, then track the beach from above, for cover."
They moved quickly, slipping into the dark, damp undergrowth. The jungle was thick, its trees towering and draped in heavy moss. They climbed a short, muddy embankment, finding a game trail that offered a minimal path.
Leo kept his eyes on the path, his mind running simulations. He knew the general layout of the early game—the climb to the transmitter tower, the first encounter with the Solarii. He had to be proactive, but subtle. He was operating in a fog of war.
The greatest danger right now is not a full-frontal assault, but a trap or a sudden ambush.
As they walked, a low-hanging snare, made of rough hemp rope and camouflaged with leaves, snagged his ankle.
Leo's body reacted before his mind fully processed the threat.
Quick-Time Reflexes (Active) Triggered!
For one precious second, the world went slow. The rain, the leaves, the rising action of the snare pulling taut—all moved at a crawl. He saw the weak point of the snare, the angle of the tension, the fraction of a second he had to react.
In that hyper-slowed instant, he brought his free foot up, stomping down hard on the length of rope just below the knot, severing the tension at its base.
The world snapped back to normal speed. The rope, which should have yanked him violently into the air, slackened. He stumbled, catching himself on a tree trunk.
"What was that?" Lara stopped dead, the rusted pipe raised.
Leo breathed heavily, his heart hammering in his chest, the after-effects of the activated skill leaving him dizzy. He didn't have to fake the reaction.
"A trap," he choked out, pointing to the severed rope. "A crude snare. Look."
Lara examined the rope, her eyes widening. "They're hunting, Leo. Not just scavenging. This is a game trail, and they've set up ambushes."
She looked at him with a new intensity. "You reacted impossibly fast. You saw it instantly."
Leo shrugged, hoping his adrenaline-drenched appearance explained his frantic speed. "I played a lot of sports as a kid. Saw the rope move. Adrenaline dump." He could feel the skill timer already counting down. [Cooldown: 59:45]
The encounter solidified two things: first, the System's Skills were real and incredibly powerful, even if short-lived. Second, he was already expending the precious resource of his meta-knowledge to save their lives. He had to start building up some kind of legitimate reputation, not just reliance on his 'prophecies.'
"We need to get off this trail," Lara said, her voice now sharp with a tactical edge. "They'll be nearby. We need to go higher."
They abandoned the path and began a difficult, vertical ascent up a muddy, rock-strewn slope. Leo, despite the exhaustion, felt the surprising stamina of his new body. He could climb. He could endure.
They finally reached a small, flat outcropping—a shallow cave, barely sheltered from the rain, but offering a good vantage point.
"We rest here for a minute," Lara decreed, leaning the pipe against the wall. She immediately began scanning the surrounding trees.
Leo sank down, his mind finally having a moment to process the true gravity of his situation. He was not just playing a game; he was fighting for his life alongside the future Tomb Raider, on an island ruled by a death cult.
He reached into his pocket. It was the moment. He pulled out a small, metallic object that had somehow stayed clipped to his jeans through the wreck: a high-quality Zippo lighter.
Lara watched him, her eyes widening slightly as he shielded the tiny flame with cupped hands. The light cast dancing shadows on the cave wall, giving them a small, precious bubble of warmth and security.
"You have a lighter," she breathed, the statement laced with reverence. Fire was everything.
"Always carry one," Leo said, forcing a weary smile. He knew the importance of this moment. In the game, Lara found her first source of fire much later. He was accelerating the survival curve.
He found a few dried leaves and twigs under the rock ledge and nursed the fire to life. The warmth began to spread, chasing away the deadly cold.
Lara moved closer, holding her hands out. The firelight played across her face, highlighting her youthful features and the deep exhaustion beneath them.
"Thank you, Leo," she said, her voice softer this time, closer to genuine gratitude than wary assessment. "That fire... that might have saved us both tonight."
Leo looked at the fire, at the dark, dense jungle beyond, and at the fierce, determined young woman beside him. He reached an internal conclusion.
He wouldn't just follow the plot. He would change it. He was a variable in a fixed world. He had the knowledge, and now, he had the System-given capabilities. He was going to turn this from a brutal survival horror into a Progression adventure.
But first, I need a skill tree.
"We need a long-term plan, Lara," Leo said, his voice firming up. "This island... it's not normal. It feels wrong. The storms, the people. We can't just wait for rescue."
Lara nodded, her eyes reflecting the orange glow. "I agree. But what are we looking for?"
"A way to send a signal, first. But what we're really looking for is the source of the trouble. I have a hunch about this island, about the myths. I think... the legends are real."
As he spoke the words, his internal System panel flashed, a new notification blinking aggressively.
[Congratulations, Host! Core Intent Established.]
[Initiating System Integration.]
[Trait Acquired: Meta-Strategist (Passive)]
Description: Grants the Host an ability to view the environment and immediate threats through a framework of 'Game Logic.' Offers strategic insight into environmental exploitation and enemy weaknesses.
[Level 1 Reached: Attribute Points Allocation Unlocked!]
[Please Allocate 3 Initial Attribute Points:]
[Strength: 5]
[Dexterity: 5]
[Stamina: 5]
[Mind: 5]
Leo felt a dizzying wave of power. He wasn't just playing the game anymore; he was customizing his character. He was now officially a player in this cruel, beautiful, and deadly world.
The cold, the hunger, the danger—it was all real. But so was the exhilaration of the hunt. Leo smiled, a feral, almost insane expression in the firelight.
"I need to rest, Lara," he lied, closing his eyes. "But tomorrow, we find the others. And then, we find a way out."
He had three attribute points to spend. He was going to make this character broken.
Chapter End.