SINOPSIS: Indy retrieved an old manucript which nazis also wanted. Somethings never change, isn't it? But… what will happen when Indy, accidentally, travel time?! Now he must try to change the future to save his own past…

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Indiana Jones/Lara croft characters, but the remain ones are mine. No copyright infringement on any of George Lucas's/Steven Spielberg's works is intended. Come one Lucas! Don't be so selfish with us! :D

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey there! I want to thank KD Skywalker and Shadewolf7, for helping me with this story and, of course, thank everybody for reading it! Please enjoy! ;)


Chapter 1: The Adventure Begins

0

0

0

1940, to the north of Germany:

It was dark, the tiny cell filled with eerie shadows. Unforgiving gray stone and a thick wooden door gave the cell's location: one of the old castles in northern Europe.

One of the shadows shifted, though the light had not changed. A faint glimmer of reflected light showed that the shadow wasn't a shadow at all as tired eyes caught what little light there was. Another glint showed steel clasped around wrists, thick chains bolted to the wall behind the man.

For man it was. Had there been a little more light, it would have shown a middle-aged man, one who did not seem to belong in such a place.

Chains rattled as he raised a hand to rub at his face, trying to ignore the hard metal biting into his wrists. How did I end up here? I haven't done anything… recently, anyway.

Sound outside drew the man's attention and his head came up to listen.

The door he was focused on flew open, the sudden flood of light blinding to eyes that had been so long in darkness.

When the man's eyes adjusted, he realized two men had entered, both tall with blond hair and wearing Nazi uniforms. The slightly shorter of the two was carrying an automatic rifle and positioned himself at the door, obviously a guard of some sort.

The other was all too familiar.

Tall, pale, with blond hair and icy blue eyes, he was the perfect Aryan. His uniform was more elaborate than the other's, rank bars showing he was a captain, though he could not have been older than twenty-five.

The prisoner smirked up at his captor, "Van Helgen. Only a rat like you could have been behind all this."

The German Captain smiled coldly, "A pleasure to see you again, Doctor Jones."

The prisoner lunged up and forward, intending to strike out at the smug Captain, only to be brought up short by the chains.

The chill smile morphed into a smirk as the Captain saw how the heavy manacles bit into the man's wrists, "Save your strength, Jones. You managed to escape in Norway, but I assure you, you will not have such a chance again."

The man, Jones, stood back up, grinning cockily at his captor, "Yeah, that was pretty funny, wasn't it?"

Suddenly the Captain threw a hard blow into his prisoner's stomach.

The air left the man's lungs in a harsh grunt and he doubled over, hitting his knees in pain.

The Captain drew back his fist to strike again as Jones started to straighten, glaring furiously, but someone grabbed his wrist in an iron grip, keeping him from striking.

Captain Van Helgen turned his head and nearly swore in shock, somehow managing to hide his dismay.

His superior glanced at the man kneeling on the floor, then back at Van Helgen. "Why didn't you inform me about the American?" he asked coldly in German.

Van Helgen thought quickly, moving to stand at attention, "I didn't think he was important enough to disturb you, Colonel."

Gray eyes narrowed, "He's the one who found that damn map and you're telling me he isn't important!?"

Henry Jones Jr, 'Indiana' Jones, wasn't precisely fluent in German, but he was an archaeologist and linguist. He caught enough of that conversation to understand what was going on. Who would have thought an old Egyptian map would interest the German army?

"Where is the map?" the Colonel demanded of his subordinate.

Van Helgen kept his gaze fixed ahead. "We did not find it when we searched him, sir."

Those cold, cold gray eyes turned on Indy. "Where is the map?"

Indiana glanced over at the guard, who had the gun trained on him, and started fidgeting with one of his chains.

The Colonel took a step closer and Indy raised his hands slightly in a placating gesture, chain dangling almost comically from his left thumb. "All right, all right! Easy. I have it in a pocket sewn into the back of my jacket."

"Good boy," the Colonel growled, moving closer.

Indiana Jones was not ordinarily an overly aggressive man, but he had no qualms about defending himself. Just one more step, and…

He lunged, firming his grip on the chain with his left hand as he swung a loop of the cold links around the Colonel's throat, catching the loop with his right hand and spinning the man, yanking him back against his chest with cold steel drawn tight across his throat, restricting his breathing.

The guard fired off a single round before Van Helgen knocked the gun aside, the bullet cracking sharply against granite. "Don't shoot, you idiot! You'll hit the Colonel!"

"Oh, good, you noticed," Indy snapped sarcastically, using the Nazi as a living shield.

"Let him go, Jones," the Captain ordered, "Then we will talk."

"Nice try, Van Helgen. Give me the keys."

The Colonel was in no position to either confirm or deny the prisoner's order, as he could barely breathe, much less actually speak, so Van Helgen nodded to the guard, who cautiously moved forward to press the key ring into Jones' open left hand.

"Good, now get back."

The guard backed away as Indy managed to unlock his manacles without giving up his hostage.

"Come on, Jones," Van Helgen spat, "You can't escape. This fortress is full of our soldiers."

"Wanna bet?" Indy suddenly dropped the chain and shoved the Colonel into the Captain and guard, using the brief distraction to bolt.

He ran down the corridor, spotted a door, and opened it.

"Oops," he said to the dozen stunned soldiers staring at him, "Wrong room, sorry."

The few seconds of shock were enough for him to get back out and slam the door, darting down a side corridor and up a flight of stairs, hearing furious shouts and orders behind him.

Another flight of stairs and he heard the pounding feet behind him, gaining.

Another door caught his attention and he skidded to a halt, opening it and darting inside, slamming and locking the heavy wooden door behind him, then spun to look around.

"Oh, great. No exit." He scanned the room, noting the window. This level apparently hadn't been fixed up, yet, because there was no glass—which explained why it was so cold and damp in this room. The narrow slit was just wide enough for him to squeeze out of, though scaling a wall in the outside rain and fog would be interesting.

"I knew I should have stayed in San Francisco," he muttered as he wriggled out of the window, hearing muffled shouts from the other side of the door. He'd barely made it out when there was a sharp splintering crash as the door was broken down.

Indy dragged himself up onto the roof, not quite able to make out the German shouts below, and he started scrambling over slick tile shingles, hoping to make the castle wall before his pursuers. He did, barely, and gunshots rang out behind him, bullets sending chips of stone flying where they struck.

"Whoa!" Indiana slipped, nearly fell, and caught himself, running bent over and zig-zaging to throw off the aims of his pursuit. He ducked into a turret and swore. "Just my luck—no exit!"

With his options becoming increasingly limited, he ran for the ladder to the top of the turret, even though he knew it wouldn't do him much good, and climbed to the top of the turret. The distant roar he'd not quite registered earlier suddenly seemed a lot louder and he darted over to the edge of the turret and looked down.

It was a loooooong way down.

The castle was apparently placed on a seaside cliff, and the turret was actually built directly on top of said cliff, overlooking the ocean. Huge waves crested, spraying fountains of foamy water over jagged rock into the Cliffside and Indy whistled.

Impressive. And there was just enough of a ledge below the turret that if he could get down there…

Shouts in German took away his debating time and he scrambled up onto the low wall, intending to try and climb down the outside of the tower, when he heard someone coming up the ladder.

He looked back when the distinct 'click' of a pistol being cocked reached his ears—Van Helgen was aiming for him. At this range, no way would the German captain miss…

Indy decided to take his chances with the fall and jumped… and green light covered everything.

Van Helgen pulled himself the rest of the way onto the turret and ran to the wall, but there was no sign of his enemy, only a rapidly fading green light about halfway down the cliff, hanging above raging water.


1998, outside of Heliopolis, Egypt.

The setting sun painted the desert in brilliant shades of red and gold, casting shadows the color of old blood across the entrance she had found. The map had been right, though hard to decipher, and the markings above the doorway to the crumbling, half-buried building proclaimed it a temple of Ra, the greatest of the Egyptian sun gods.

According to legend, the temple held a golden statue brought from somewhere else, though where was up to debate.

The Egyptians, fortunately, hadn't tended to booby trap their temples the way quiet a few of the South American ancients had, so she was a bit less cautious than usual while making her way into the shadowed hall.

According to the script on the map, the main worship hall of the temple should be just a little futher ahead, and if a statue really had been brought in from somewhere else, it likely would have been brought there.

There, on a pedastle in the center of the room on a slightly raised dais, was the statue. At first she thought it was Ra, but it was wearing a headresss that didn't fit with the usual shceme of the sun god. She frowned and moved closer to inspect it more carefully, noting an inscription on the pedestal itself.

It took a few minutes for her to translate it, and she actually had to pull out her small reference book for uncommon symbols as she didn't recognize a few of them.

-The World's End is the Great Key of Time where Past and Future join in one Fate-

"Interesting," she murmured when she finally puzzled out the message. "But you deserve a better home, now," she addressed the statue itself, reaching out to lift it from the pedestal.

The moment her fingers brushed the gleaming gold, the chamber was flooded with green light and she found herself frozen, unable to let go of the statue.

With a thundering crack, she was thrown away from the pedestal and the light flared briefly before vanishing altogether and she heard the thud of a body hitting the floor.

She had both of her pistols out, scanning the room, and spotted a man lying on the floor. She approached carefully and checked his pulse when he made no response to her footsteps.

He was unconscious.

"What just happened?" she wondered aloud.


To be continued