{{{Then he must die!}}}
Lara heard every syllable of that booming declaration reverberate through her very soul. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her heart churning with emotions too raw, too primal to contain. The threat was real—Dracula wasn't just some mythical figure whispered about in fear; he was here, towering over them like a god ready to crush an ant beneath his heel.
'No...' she thought, her resolve pouring out Slowly but surely, her body began to change. Gone was the fragile young girl who had wept tears of joy mere moments ago. In her place stood a warrior clad in leather armor, her hands gripping the hilt of a sword as though it were an extension of herself. She stepped forward without hesitation, placing herself squarely between Dracula and Atlas.
".....Over. my. dead. body," Lara growled, her voice low and lethal, each word slicing through the oppressive silence like a blade.
