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It was calm, peaceful, only the muted gurgle of water filters from two large aquariums disturbed the quiet of the spacious, elegant office. Sophia stood perfectly still in front of her floor-to-ceiling windows. They offered an impressive view of London, but… not impressive enough. Or rather, it was her place that lent it its worth, not what she could see from that vantage point. Everything she could see was – both figuratively and literally – below her. They were all below her.
Sophia was moving her eyes slowly, studying the millions of tiny lights blinking in the nigh-time, her back straight and her chin high. Could anything catch her attention that she would consider worth her while? Doubtful. Still, it was a beautiful view, for knowing she wasn’t down there among the pedestrians and traffic, among people rushing to manage their insignificant lives or sleeping so they would forget their meaningless existence, at least for a while.
Sophia would have never been satisfied being no-one, and had never hesitated to use others, make them serve as rather excellent stepping stones – truly the only moments any of them could have consider ed themselves useful, if only they could eve r comprehend her brilliance.
She had worked long and hard – she was still working, still searching and experimenting – and the fruits of her labour were fully deserved. Only the best results could stay with her. Fruits that would be rather… rotten, couldn’t keep spreading their rot in her presence and were swept to the depths where they belonged.
Only she could be at the top, the most successful, most beautiful, most cunning…
Or perhaps?
Sophia smiled in anticipation. Perhaps there was someone else, worthy to share the spotlight. Clever, gorgeous, ruthless… Sophia would never have imagined herself sharing, but then again, perhaps she had just never found anyone worthy of her favour.
Yes, she had decided, she would extend the offer. And if she were to be refused, as unimaginable as that would be… She would make sure to clear her exalted position of any possible usurpers.
Through the perfectly conditioned air of her office floated faint noises, shuffles. Someone was coming.
Sophia turned, leisurely walked to her chair, her heels clicking on the marble, and sat down. The Eye of Isis lay before her, a sceptre just like for an empress. Fitting.
Lara Croft walked in, radiant and confident.
“Ah, Miss Croft. I take it you are ready to sign on?”