He waited. There was no question to his motives, and there was only one thing he could do when the time seemed right.
Strike.
The closer he came to limiting the Templars in number, the more seemed to rise from the depths of the dark night in which their order sought to plunge the world until the end of time. There was nothing he, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, could do about the situation except follow through with the execution. He knew that his past was rectifying itself as he eradicated the enemies that robbed his father, brothers, and uncle away from his life for all eternity.
Ezio grimaced as he thought of his father's last moment on the Earth, how he looked directly at his son, and his eyes screamed for Ezio to run and never look back. He thought of his two brothers and how they always seemed to brighten his day whenever he seemed down. Federico aided him in becoming the ladies' man that he was today—there was no doubt about that. Petruccio was simply the target of the older two's shenanigans, and he always fought back with Claudia on his force. Ezio then remembered what transpired after the hanging. He joined his uncle's force. His uncle trained his to be the assassin that had most men quivering at his mother's bosom.
He smiled at these memories, and a lone tear slowly crept from the corner of his eye and slowly rolled down his cheek. Wiping the tear away, Ezio knew that he had to pull himself from the grief that continuously ached his very soul and dwell on it another day.
His current mission called for his full attention, and he snapped into reality, pushing all thoughts of family, death, and memories aside. He only focused on his target, who was being ushered into the small and abandoned courtyard above which he was located.
His golden target seemed to ease in tension, being reassured by his guard that he was alone.
Foolish man, Ezio thought as he crept on the rooftop above. He crouched atop a protruding wooden beam directly above his target, and the Florentine eagle's lips curled in a smirk. He flexed his wrist for good measure, and inched closer to the edge.
The man below sighed as he motioned his guard to move forward. "Oh, Sergio," he began as the guard seemed to stiffen when his name was uttered, "how long do you think that I have?"
The guard arched his brow as he fumbled with the sword at his hip. "I apologize, signore, but I do not understand your meaning."
"I fear for my life, Sergio," the man explained. "God has been hinting my tragic death at the hands of the notorious Assassin. He submits the fear of any moment becoming my last drawing breath in this world." The man folds his arms across his chest. "I am at a loss on how to comprehend these heavenly messages all at once. It seems that God desires my nerves' ease, but somehow, all His attempts are futile. It all drives the fear further into the recesses of my thoughts, and every moment must be held as precious and as forgiving as the last, for it may be my last." The Templar placed his hands on the guard's shoulder. "Do you understand, my dear friend? Do you sympathize with my fears?"
Sergio sighed as he placed a hand atop the man's. "Si, Signore Giovanni, but you need not fret. Your life shall not end until the Lord calls. No one will rob your life away earlier than you can catch ill or a great battle ensues between regions." The guard smiled reassuringly. "I promise this, Brother."
It was then that Ezio struck.
From above, the Assassin pounced atop the man in question and plunged his blade into his flesh.
Suddenly, time seemed to stop as the eagle set the man on the ground, blood ebbing from the wound.
Giovanni chuckled softly as he shifted his weight to the side to face the kneeling assassin. "I see God has sent you early," he whispered.
"No," Ezio corrected, "I am not a harbinger of death according to your beliefs. I am here to expunge your wrongful influence from the world."
"It is true then. You are quite the ruthless killer, aren't you? I have done nothing wrong, Assassin."
"You were using Roma's finances for your own future political gain. I see the fault in that action; I regret that you do not."
The man chuckled once again. "I know that you may think that I have wronged this grand city, but in all truth, I was aiding it. I aimed higher that your comrades led you to believe. I was to be a leading politician, and I was to lead Italia to victory."
Ezio shook his head. "You were to go to war with the surrounding countries in an attempt to conquer them. That is not victory; that is selfishness."
"To you, perhaps," the man reasoned. "But to my Brothers, it is only the beginning."
The man's eyes began to fade in and out of focus, and as Ezio began to further question him, his muscles completely relaxed.
As his last exhalation ceased, the Assassin rose, uttering, "Requiescat in Pace."
He snapped back into the present moment and guarded a blow from the guard's sword with his own. He parried and slashed the guard's chest, sending him reeling. Ezio then stepped forward with a final push, sending his blade completely through the man.
"You are going to regret you actions one day," he growled. "God will send you to Hell, demon."
Ezio's lips curled into a smirk. "Then, I shall meet you there, amico."
Pulling his blade from the guard, Ezio draped the body atop his original target.
He had to escape the area before he ran into more guards, and he didn't wish to become notorious for his actions.
Climbing up the nearest building, Ezio sped across the rooftops, leaving the Templar bodies for some unlucky soul to happen upon them.