It's a calm summer's day in Virginia. The birds are singing, the sun is shining brightly, and the surrounding area seems to be peaceful at the moment...

Though not really.

Seas of blue and grey march to meet each other on the grassy fields, hoping to wash the other color from existence. General Lee has set up a defensive position on the bluffs overlooking the battlefield, while General Grant sets up an effective artillery position on a hill adjacent to Lee's.

The formation of these movements are relatively simple, but effective nonetheless. Still, unbeknownst to both armies, a bald eagle soars overhead, observing every move they make...

Both Lee and Grant order a brigade of infantry to be sent out to confront the enemy, and thousands of soldiers march across the green landscape in accordance with their commanding officer's orders. At the front of their lines lies three regiments of infantry each, battle-hardened and ready for action.

The eagle continues to soar above, until suddenly a cannonball, from which side exactly remains unclear, strikes the noble bird, effectively splitting it in half. Both halves fall towards the ground in opposite directions, landing near the boots of both armies.

On the Confederate lines, a young lieutenant picks up one of the eagle's feathers and puts it inside his long, grey frock coat. His solemn face is covered partially by his grey hood, and his uniform consists of a red waist-sash that looks like blood and a variety of specialized weapons. He carries an officer's sword that sits in it's scabbard, an assortment of knives made for throwing he keeps by his waist, a handmade Bowie knife he keeps by his boot, two Griswold & Gunnison revolvers in their twin holsters, and two blades that are concealed in devices on his wrists. He stands in formation, ready to receive orders.

On the Union lines, another young lieutenant picks up another one of the eagle's feathers and puts it inside his long, blue frock coat. His face is concealed by a hood as well, only colored blue instead, and he too wears the blood-red sash. His own personal arsenal consists of a sword that is best suited for cavalry use, a sharp hatchet that rests at his side, a Colt Navy Revolver that sits in its holster, an Enfield Musketoon that is sheathed across his back, and he too carries devices on his wrists that conceal two blades. He waits patiently for his commanding officer to give the next orders.

The Union colonel in charge of the regiment in the center orders his men to halt their advance and to attack the Confederate center. The Northern soldiers then present their weapons, with their bayonets glistening in the sunlight, and fire at the wall of approaching Confederates, killing many in the very front.

"Reload, boys! Reload!" the Union lieutenant orders to his men.

As the Yankees are reloading, the Confederate colonel in charge of the center regiment orders his men to stop and to fire upon the Union center while they're distracted. The Southern soldiers present their muskets and fire upon the Union position, watching as many fall to the ground.

Grant's artillery then fires upon the Rebels once they're distracted with reloading, sending several bodies of grey flying sky-high.

"Hold your position, men!" the Confederate lieutenant shouted, drawing his sword. After the short barrage of artillery ended, the Confederates retaliated with another volley of musket fire, bringing down more Union troops.

The Confederate colonel watched the utter chaos from his horse through a pair of binoculars, observing the young men on both sides dying in front of him. He shook his head and looked down at the ground, knowing that these men were all dying for a cause they didn't fully understand. But he knew that it was all for a higher purpose. He opened his coat and pulled out a chain with a golden cross adorning his uniform. He knew that when the treasure is found, the war will end and the Order will be victorious, no matter the outcome. Peace in America would be achieved at long last. Still, it's a shame that so many had to die, fighting for what they perceived to be independence from a usurper, when instead they're fighting for a cause they didn't know existed.

The Union colonel observed the battle through his own binoculars, seeing the men being cut down right before his eyes. He too couldn't bear the slaughter. But he knew that this was the Order's chance to destroy the Brotherhood in America once and for all. This war would make sure that they were divided amongst themselves and would most likely perish in the midst of the chaos. This would also give his brothers time to search for the treasure that was hidden long ago, and with it, they might finally achieve the order the world needed. But that didn't change the fact that the slaughter of this war was senseless, having innocent men ready to die for a cause they don't even know they're apart of. They think they're fighting to save their nation, without realizing that they're just pawns in the longest chess game in human history. He opened his own coat and held the golden cross in his hand.

Both colonels decided that a bayonet charge was necessary to bring the other side down, and gave the order to their men.

"Fix bayonets!" the Confederate lieutenant shouted to his men, as several of the soldiers in grey started attaching their bayonets to the front of their muskets. The lieutenant then raised his sword and pulled out one of his Griswolds from his holsters, awaiting the order to charge.

"Fix bayonets!" the Union lieutenant ordered his men, as they put the bayonets on the tips of their weapons. The lieutenant then looked at the ground and saw a fallen soldier's Springfield rifle on the ground, picked it up, noticed that it hadn't been fired yet, and awaited the order to charge.

"Make ready... aim... fire!" the Confederate lieutenant ordered, and his men gave off one last volley before the bugle sounded for them to charge.

"Make ready... aim... fire!" the Union lieutenant ordered, firing his comrade's rifle along with his men, and their bugle sounded for them to charge.

The Union troops shouted in fury, while the Confederate troops gave their trademark Rebel Yell, as both charged at each other across the field. They were getting closer and closer before both armies collided in an overwhelming sea of blue and grey.

The Union lieutenant pierced the bayonet of his rifle through a charging Rebel, pulled it out, and killed another man with a quick bash with the rifle-butt. He stabbed another troop through the neck before throwing the weapon like a javelin at another soldier. Another enemy soldier tried to pierce him with his bayonet, but the lieutenant narrowly dodged the attack before grabbing the rifle and shooting the soldier with his own weapon. He then dropped the empty musket and drew his cavalry sabre and hatchet from their slots on his person.

The Confederate lieutenant lunged into a Yankee with his sword, piercing him right through the stomach. Another soldier tried attacking him on the right, but the lieutenant was quick to notice this and shot him right through the head with his revolver. He saw one of his comrades engaged in furious hand-to-hand combat with a Union troop, so he slashed the Northerner in the back before shooting him through the chest. He shot another two soldiers with his revolver before using his sword to slice through another soldier who tried to attack him from behind. He noticed a Union captain that had killed three Confederates already, so the lieutenant shot him with his remaining two shots and discarded his empty revolver, shortly before pulling out his Bowie knife from his boot.

The Union lieutenant slashed an incoming Confederate with his sabre before he bashed his head in with his hatchet. Two soldiers started to charge at him at the same time with their bayonets fixed, and the lieutenant plunged his sabre through the one soldier and thrust the hatchet into the back of the other. Pulling out the sword and hatchet, he continued on by then throwing his hatchet right at the chest of another Rebel. He sliced the leg of another Confederate before reclaiming his hatchet from the fallen soldier. His eyes then caught sight of a Confederate captain who had shot four of his men at once and was slicing up a fifth. The lieutenant then charged toward the captain and engaged in furious hand-to-hand combat. He had to sacrifice the use of his hatchet by throwing it at a soldier who attempted to attack him from behind while he was distracted, and then he finally found an opening to harm the captain. He sliced him across the stomach, and then the lieutenant pulled his musketoon out from his sheathe and shot the Confederate officer dead. He then discarded the weapon and pulled out his Navy Colt, holding it in his left hand while also holding the sword in his right.

The Confederate lieutenant pierced another Yankee with his sword through the stomach before slitting his throat with his Bowie knife. Another Union soldier came charging at him with his bayonet, but he blocked his attack with his sword before stabbing him in the chest with his knife. Another enemy soldier tried to attack him from his left, and the lieutenant stabbed him in the foot with his knife before drawing it upward to his thigh and then slitting his throat with his sword. He then turned to his right and saw five Union troops making ready to fire at him, so he ran over to the nearest Northern soldier he could find, put his knife around his throat, and used him as a human shield as the Union troops fired at him, killing their own man. While they were recovering from the shock, the lieutenant pulled out three throwing knives from his belt and threw them at the soldiers, killing three out of the five who stood there. He then charged forward and plunged his sword through the fourth man right onto the ground, while the fifth Union soldier tried to pierce him with his bayonet, only succeeding in relieving the lieutenant of his knife. He dodged the next thrust and then stabbed him through the chest with his sword. After he pulled the sword out of the limp Yankee body, he drew his second Griswold from his holster and held it tight.

The Union lieutenant rushed forward and thrust his weapon's blade against a Rebel soldier's back, then shot him through the neck with his Colt. Two more Confederates came charging towards him, and one of them fired a shot from his musket, missing the lieutenant by mere centimeters. He then slashed the one Confederate in the arm and slit the throat of the other, putting a bullet in the latter's head as well. He then saw the still-breathing Rebel try to get up, and the lieutenant shot him in the back and through his chest. Another soldier came charging at him from his right, and he blocked his offensive thrust with his sabre before shooting him in the stomach. Three more Confederates tried to attack him from behind, and the lieutenant dodged their attacks and fired his remaining two bullets at two of the soldier's heads. He tried shooting at the third, but his revolver clicked, signifying that his weapon was empty. The Southern soldier took this opportunity to try to kill the lieutenant, but he narrowly avoided his bayonet thrust and hit him in the face with the empty Colt, breaking his nose. He then discarded of his weapon, and then, instead of killing him with his sabre, he flicked his left wrist and one of the blades from the devices sprung out. The lieutenant then pierced the Confederate's chest with the blade, killing him, then retracted his arm so that he could return to battle.

The Confederate lieutenant ducked from an incoming attack from a Union soldier, then spun around and stabbed him in the back. Behind him, two more Union troops tried to shoot at him, and he narrowly avoided their shots as he fired his own weapon at them. He then saw that a Confederate soldier was being boxed in by three Union soldiers surrounding him. Acting quickly, the lieutenant plunged his sword in the Yankee's back, then used him as a human shield as he shot down the other two soldiers. The Rebel gave him a quick nod to show that he was thankful, and he returned to battle. He had cut down another three men with his sword when he saw him.

Time had just stopped. He was staring at a Union lieutenant that was cutting down Confederate troops with a sabre and what looked like hidden blades. His attire was unlike that of other officers he'd seen, wearing a blue frock coat with a hood and a red sash, like his own attire.

This man was the enemy, but he was also a brother. He was an Assassin.

"This can't be." the lieutenant thought. "My enemy isn't the Brotherhood."

The Union lieutenant looked away from the last man he killed and stared straight at the Confederate lieutenant. He was wearing grey, but he was still a member of the Brotherhood. His fight did not lay with his brothers.

But, with time slowed down, both men realized that they really didn't have much of a choice at the moment. One of them was Union, the other was Confederate. It didn't matter that both belonged to the Brotherhood, for they were in the midst of war.

With that in mind, the Confederate lieutenant took aim with his gun, knowing he had one shot left. He pulled the hammer back, and was ready to pull the trigger, until an exploding cannonball caught him by surprise and knocked him down as he pulled the trigger.

The bullet hit the Union lieutenant in his right shoulder, but he didn't seem to be too concerned with it, for afterwards he started to charge across the field with both hidden blades extended, forgetting to pick up his sabre.

The Confederate lieutenant struggled to get up, having been weakened by the artillery blast. Still, he dropped his empty Griswold and forgot to pick up his sword as well, and he extended his hidden blades as he charged toward his former brother.

They both cut through any man that stood in their way, mercilessly trying to get through to each other, until finally they stood about twenty feet away from each other in an open section of the battlefield. They stood still for a moment, staring each other down, before they began charging toward each other again.

The Union and Confederate colonels watched as the two young officers charged at each other, seemingly pleased that their enemies would try to kill each other now instead of the Templars. They had divided them at last, and now they would destroy each other.

They were barely five feet away from each other, and the two Assassins, blades extended, lunged at each other, ready to see who would leave this battlefield alive.


"It is well that war is so terrible - lest we should grow too fond of it."

- Robert E. Lee