Assassins Creed Revolutions
Chapter 1:
My arm is blooded, so is my head, body, and just about every damn part of me. A searing pain rushes through my head as another thrashing blow is thrown at my head. My arms are tied in a triple knot around my back. They've stopped the blades from cutting the rope away, but haven't stopped my hands from frantically attempting to undo this abomination of rope tying.
They're shouting in a language I don't understand, I assume it's Chinese, considering that's where I am but I can't be sure. The swing their metal bludgeons at my face, slowly and mockingly, but about a minute ago I had untied the knot, so as the bat swung I grabbed it and slammed it into his dick. I spat on him. His 'associates' surrounded me in the most shitest way in human existence. They left about, in total, about a ten meter gap. They swung simultaneously their bats at me, rolled away and stabbed the nearest man in his neck. He fell down to reveal a man with a gun, aimed straight for me. I ran to the next nearest Chinese Templar, and swung him I front of me as six rounds entered his body, I let his body drop and ran to the wall, and back flipped off of it, revealing my hidden blade and shoving it into his throat, he fell down with my landing and blood covered my hand.
Within ten minutes I had killed fifteen Templars. I walked out the derelict structure into the hustle of Shanghai; I lifted my hood over my head and began to walk towards the city centre. My target waited. The unsuspecting Yowti Manghal. I mean, after all, who expects a twelve year old assassin to jump off the Shanghai Tower and land in their office and be out in fifty two seconds.
People looked at me as I got closer to the tower, was it suspicion, or curiosity. Whatever I didn't care I just kept walking. And then climbing jumping from window to window, metal to metal. And once at the top, fifty two seconds later, I was outside heading to the airstrip. I placed the clear communicator in my ear and spoke.
'Shaun, Rebecca, get comfortable, wheels up in ten'
With that I entered the plane's cockpit, and started the jet engines, and headed back to the US. But I couldn't call it home, it was home in 2014, when on the 29th of December, the Templars nuked Washington, and took over America, turning each school into a training ground where you learned to kill people. And freedom died. My name is Aiden Thompson. And I am the last fighting Assassin. Niente è vero, tutto è permesso, nothing is true, everything is permitted