I really have nothing to say, except a Self-insertish story is brewing in my mind.

Michael stood outside of his house waiting for his mechanic to return the motorcycle he had in the shop due to crashing it a week earlier. Though that was only half the truth. Michael had been attacked by a group of Templars while on the highway, and one thing led to another and he had to bail. Luckily there was a river under the bridge; unluckily for the Templars, cars and trains don't mix. He shook his head, and took a deep breath.

Michael's phone went off, and he answered it, "Nothing is True."

"Everything is permitted," his best friend, Kyon Salgrins, replied from the other side of the line.

"What's up?" Michael leaned back on a fence post, and looked to the sky.

"I was just studying this funky code that we swiped off the Templar's from last week's incident, and I think I found another piece of Eden."

"Two in a year is pushing our luck Ky," Michael saw his motorcycle on the horizon, and switched to his earpiece. "What makes you so sure?"

"Remember how the last piece was inert?" Michael waited for Kyon to finish his explanation, "Well, as soon as I introduced this signal to it, its signal shot through the roof. We might have a pair."

"I'm on my way. Where are the coordinates?"

"Take your best guess."

"In some Abstergo Entertainment building's basement?" Michael paid his mechanic, and revved his bike.

"Close, it's in the attic."

"All right, send the coordinates to my phone." Michael hooked his phone to the bluetooth inside of his motorcycle, and the address appeared on the small screen just below the speedometer. Throwing the black hood over his head, Michael revved the cycle one more time before burning rubber.

It didn't take long for Michael to reach the Abstergo Entertainment building, but he did take his time approaching. The Templars obviously knew who he was, especially since they sent a squad to kill him on the road, or that was just coincidence. Either way, they knew he was an assassin.

Michael parked his motorcycle in an empty alley, and threw a black sheet over the bike. He started walking in the direction of Abstergo Entertainment. He stood behind a pillar, and used his phone to track the cameras. After three minutes, he found a thirty-second window for him to use. He put his phone away, and started tapping his hand against his thigh. When the next window of opportunity arose, he walked out from cover, and took his hood off. He walked moderately fast, nothing that would draw attention to him. He reached the front desk, and angled his face away from the camera to his left.

"How may I help you?" The receptionist asked, without looking up from the terminal. She blew a bubble of gum, and popped it.

Michael smiled internally as he ran a hand through his jet black hair, "I'm sorry, but could you point me to the nearest restroom?"

"Turn around, and down the hallway. First door to your left."

"Thanks." Michael quickly turned, and ran across the floor. He got into the bathroom, and looked at the ceiling. There was a single vent, and it looked like a tight fit.

"Sure you can fit through there?" Kyon asked through the earpiece, surprising the assassin a little.

After he regained his composure he chuckled, "I can fit into holes tighter than this."

"You aren't going to fuck the vent, you are going through it."

"It was a joke, of course I can fit." Michael ran at the wall, and ejected from it, grabbing onto the vent hatch, and using gravity to pull it down. He landed in a roll to decrease sound. He tied one end of a rope around the hatch, and then the other around his wrist.

He repeated the wall eject, and grabbed onto the inside of the vent. He shimmied his way in, and pulled the hatch up with him. He made sure that it would stay in place before he began his crawl through the Abstergo building.

Michael was sweating by the time he made it to the top floor, but this was due to the heaters having been activated on one of the floors. "Hypothermia on one floor, dehydration on the next." Kyon joked, the vents made the connection finicky, and his voice was laced with static.

Michael let out a very heavy sigh as he looked into the office below him, it was the only one on the floor. By default the piece of Eden had to be here. He heard someone walk into the office. "How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know where the other half is, that assassin from last week's failed attack was supposed to provide us with the information... All right, I'll try and figure out where he- yes, I know that time is off the essence." The woman hung up the phone and sighed. She opened a drawer in her desk, and pulled out a glowing object. "What secrets do you hold?"

Michael knew it was a piece of Eden, and quietly removed the vent hatch. He placed it on the inside of the vent, and jumped down. He lunged over the couch, and activated his hidden blade as the woman turned around. He laid her across the desk, and grabbed the piece before it fell from her hands. He examined it, "It looks like a clock."

"So, is that what I died for? A clock of Eden? To think, you would come to me."

After listening to her voice without the vent disturbing his hearing. He recognized the woman's voice, even if her face was new to him. "Shit, mom?"

"Never thought I'd turn Templar, did you?" she chuckled as she groaned. "At least, it was you who killed me, and not a random assassin. I trained you well."

Michael closed his eyes, "I thought you were dead."

"I was... to the assassins, at least. I saw what their control meant, and I saw a world where you were safe." The light in her eyes faded away.

Michael closed her eyes, and prayed for his truly dead mother. "Rest in peace, and may we meet again in our next lives." He let silent tears fall down his cheek.

"I know that this is an emotional moment for you," Kyon announced, "but the readings from that clock in your hands, are going off the charts."

"What the hell does that mean?" Michael asked, looking at the device. He couldn't bring himself to let go or drop the damn thing, and its glow was getting brighter and brighter...

February, 1715 Cape Bonavista.

Michael woke up on the beach of some tropical island, "How the fuck did I get from Los Angeles, to here?" He checked his phone. There was no signal whatsoever. He turned his phone off to save the battery, in case he needed a glorified flashlight. He looked out across the horizon, and saw a storm coming, "Well, I'd better find some shelter." He turned and started walking inland.