Hi I'm Jack Shay, I'm a Templar, and I'm running for my life. I'm seventeen and have lived in an animus most of my life. Living the life of Shay Cormac, Jack the Ripper, others, and running Abstergo training sims. I've heard that those helix machines are better than VR whatever that's like but I bet it's nothing compared to being plugged into an animus. Literally plugged through the port in the back of my neck, yes port in the back of my neck. I'm a clone, one of quite a few cloned for the purpose of combating assassins and other Templar operations. Created with enough First Civ DNA to use Precursor artifacts and literally living training day by day in an animus we're a force to be reckoned with if we were in use yet. I'm part of bach one and we're only seventeen abstergo figured out cloning not advanced aging without repercussions go figure. I'm the first one dispatched because all other teams are busy and it's a high priority mission which means no hired help. I being my lucky self ran into a rough spot. Which brings me back to the beginning I'm running for my life.

Bullets whizz past as I duck round a corner one hits my pouch and dings off the metal object within which begins glowing green. "Oh no oh no oh no. Not now, I'm busy. Do weird shit once I finish running away from these guards." The object does NOT listen and glows even brighter. "Fuck me" I moaned in distress as I'm suddenly surrounded in a translucent green sphere. Have you ever wondered what being flushed down a toilet feels like? I know and I will never wonder ever again, or wish to experience it ever again.

I land in some sort of precursor structure before getting to my feel and dusting off my coat. I'm wearing a copy of Shay Cormac's gear minus the swords and guns cause seriously swords and flintlocks in the 21st century when not at a renaissance fair? But yeah I'm wearing the outfit, a pair of hidden blades, and a pair of six shooters along with a big black weapons case on my back. One of Abstergo's little indulgences cause I'm top performer of the clone program and as a teen I can pass it off as Assassin's Creed cosplay. One of the reasons in my mind that we should have been deployed earlier but Abstergo had this thing about us being twenty before we were supposed to go out on missions. But shit I'm getting caught up in my thoughts you wanna know what's going on.

Well I was in a precursor well I'd call it a bunker, eggheads back at abstergo would prolly call it a temple or something. But same shit, glowy bits all round, black stone, esoteric carvings. Either way it was a place to set up while I gather my bearings. I take out a cigarette and light up with the lighter in my pocket. Nasty habit right?, wrong its not tobacco its some synthetic shit Abstergo cooked up. Dunno what it's supposed to do, Increase efficiency in the field by enhancing logical and blah blah blah. Yeah no, I tuned out that lecture, long story short Abstergo cooked up synthetic herbs that when smoked makes you do stuff better. I inhaled the smoke, it tasted of earth and flowers. Supposed to be soothing, guess it is on some levels. I wound my way through the short cave system out of the bunker which led out to a small gap beneath a rock. Rock prolly wasn't there originally or the Precursors had some freaky jellyfish anatomy that allowed them to squeeze through tight crawl spaces easily.

I get out fresh air the moonlight and HOLY SHIT THE MOON IS BROKEN! I freak out realising something went terribly wrong with that damn artifact in my pack. I turn on my mission radio and flip through channels hoping to pick up some Templar chatter and nothing. I take out my phone and no signal or gps. Great. "Hey is someone there?" I heard from the treeline. I hide in the shadows blending in well with my dark clothing. He had a… seriously is that a chef's knife? "Hey if someone's there come out" He advanced further. His eyes suddenly focused on me "Hey who the fuck are…" He got out before with a swift movement I grabbed the knife out of his hand flipped it into a backhand grip and fell on the man stabbing him repeatedly in the chest and stomach. I must have stabbed him 20 times before I stopped. There was blood everywhere, I took a moment to look at the knife before I heard. "Hey George? You out here OH GOD WHO ARE… gack burble" I had thrown the knife when the man came into view he had a second to freak out before the knife was in his throat and he was drowning in his own blood.

I walked to the second man and took the knife from his throat. It made a small scraping noise that knew it meant was scraping bone. It was a nice knife, well balanced for throwing, a wickedly sharp twelve inch blade and after squeezing the handle to test the grip I found it had a built in taser. The electricity arced from blood splotch to blood splotch on the blade before the charge dried them out. With a small shake the ashed blood fell off. Speaking of ash I took the cigarette out of my mouth and tapped the ash off on the forest floor. A deep inhale of smoke and air and I relax.

I take the knife sheath off the first man, Ok seriously who has a sheath for a chef's knife and how did I manage to not stab the shit out of the sheath when I killed the man. I went a little kill crazy on the first guy, I always do its a bad habit I got from the bleeding effect from reliving Jack the Ripper, man was the picture perfect of overkill. I sheath the knife on my left hip in its sheath. It's not a bad weapon how it looks aside a sharp knife, decent length blade and an added bonus in that taser attachment. I drew upon my sense, my Gift, Assassins called it Eagle Vision or Eagle Sense for me it was just my Gift. All the clones could use it but I was prolific in its use. Words appeared around me I didn't know what they said as they were foreign beyond foreign but I knew what they meant.

They described how I murdered the two men and trajectories of what had happened. The blood shined in my sight. I shook slightly weather from cold or in pleasure even I didn't know. I followed their steps to a small dirt road and then the small road to a main road whereupon in the distance I saw a large walled area, it was probably a settlement of some sort. From the two men before I inferred that my mode of dress wasn't too dissimilar for the local faire.

I was in the settlement before sunrise, I was Jack Shay from a settlement that had been burned down and abandoned and now a citizen of the grand city of Vale. I had been asked if I was a hunter in training, I smiled, it seemed answer enough to the man who had written something down and walked away. A liberal amount of pickpocketing left me with the currency of this land and the suspicion that I definitely wasn't in kansas anymore was proved. This Lien seemed to be card based digital currency, no country had money like this. A trip to several stores left me with a backpack and supplies as well as the cellphone of this universe the Scroll. I made my way back to the stone that the precursor bunker was underneath and slipped in. I needed to widen that hole. At which point I made my way into the bunker and set up a small base of operations.

Fast forward what I called around a month and between going into Vale often for odd jobs and shopping and establishing my bunker the time passed quickly. At first sight it seemed like some odd but well established hobo shelter in the precursor site. A fire pit, a generator, a small air mattress, some weapon tools, some books and other small luxuries. But with the gift it was light up. Pages of notes on technology differences light up near the bed, a map of the world both mine and this new one side by side on blank patches of wall, my carefully crafted backstory written on the ground and various other things written about in ways only The Gift can read. On a patch of open ground to one side I had written my observations of the PoE I had, god knows exactly what it does but I knew a bit more than I did before it went haywire and sent me to this well I suppose I'd call it an alternate world.

My weapons case that I had been carrying on my back had been set off to the side along with my masterpiece of a distress beacon, yeah no, thing's fucking frankenstiened together from my mission radio equipment and my cellphone. It was repeating the phrase "Templar Knight Animus Charlie Bravo One Unit One Jack Tango Romeo Requesting Assistance, Mission Complete, Location Unknown, May the Father of Understanding Guide Us" over all Templar radio frequencies.

Several wooden crates were scattered around, the one closest to my bed had some First Civ memory seals on it. They were blank when I found them so I encoded my life what little of it I've lived out of Animi anyway. It took a single disk, they had surprisingly large storage one wonders why people of the past recorded so little. The crates themselves contained supplies for me, a decent amount of food and water, the mysterious substance called Dust (that's Dust with a capital) which I use for my generator and my new knife's power source, an ammo mill I hadn't unpacked yet, and a micro forge that ran on fire Dust that again I hadn't unpacked. Several caches of supplies were sequestered away in the bunker marked by markings visible with The Gift in case I get raided. Bunker was huge, could fit a shanty town in there, my little camp was in a closed off corner "room" if you call an area with walls that don't go all the way up or close the area off much a room. The temple, bunker, now even I'm calling it a temple damn eggheads, had a power source and despite my Sage surpassing amount of First Civ DNA I hadn't activated it yet. Somewhat of a miracle considering it takes blood to write for The Gift sight easiest and my blood would definitely activate the machines in the bunker temple thing.

I somewhat downplayed the amount of writing I had written all over the bunker earlier. An enhanced regeneration factor from being a test tube baby engineered for combat and a rather nice calligraphy brush alongside cautious enthusiasm for the First Civ and I had scribbled a lot of observations in the "margins" of the bunker. Practicing fighting and takedowns on some straw dummies I had set up in an area that looked more like a training course for freerunning than a temple kept me in shape apart from the Grimm hunting I did to keep the area around the temple entrance clear. I took out my Neural Unit as I sat near my air mattress on a lawn chair I had "scavenged".

Pressure on the right area of the back of my neck opened a small hatch no bigger than a quarter of dull tan metal similar to my skin tone. More applied pressure to just the right spot and click the neural transmission cord, NTC, popped out of its receptacle so I could grab it a small motion and it spooled out as I pulled it with a sensation I bet would freak the ordinary man out in other words exactly how you think pulling on a cord spooled in the back of your spinal cord and brain stem feels. I plugged it into the Neural Unit and using it engaged all of my implants doing a systems check.

Clone is really a bad word for us vat made Templars. We were made with the best of human genetics. Eyes, Skin tone, Facial structure, voice tone, and other various appearance related genes were tweaked so we were beautiful, slightly androgynous, and could fit in anywhere in the world. Other genes came directly from the animal kingdom, salamander like regeneration, smell of a dog, hearing of a bat, sight compiled from various avian genotypes. No we weren't clones, we weren't made from anyone's DNA, we were vat bred Templars made for the new age. We were implanted with First Civ derived cybernetics so a more accurate term was cyborg. No before you ask my brain doesn't have Wi-Fi... my Neural Unit does.

What is a Neural Unit? It's most basic function is our external black box where we encode all our memories to it, we have a internal black box in our brain between the two hemispheres but the Neural Unit is the black box that can be accessed without killing us and cutting open our brains or intensive neurosurgery. It has as I stated before Wi-Fi so we could browse the web if we plugged into it. But its more complex and secondary function was that of a mission control device. It could activate and deactivate our cybernetics, created maps based off our senses, display to us real time medical info about our bodies, and had a tactical database and processor that not only contained tactical info about each enemy we encounter but converted those sense based maps and enemy info along with said medical, cybernetical, and black box data into real time tactical advisement. Not something we can do on the fly but from a good vantage point, plug in, look around, and you have tactical advisement.

But enough about what it does what was I doing? Yes that was it I already said it, I activated all of my cybernetic implants and did a systems check, well most I don't exactly need the high tension synthetic fibers throughout my body that increase muscle power active for normal life especially as they were made for pushing on when the body is too torn up to move with natural human strength. There were a couple others I didn't activate but… I'm infiltrating society not fighting a war.

Infiltration… that's one of the major subjects of our training not just stealth infiltration but social infiltration, the ability to walk through a crowd under the eyes of Assassins and escape detection, to stand up to a background check because we have made personal connections social connections not because our background comes out squeaky clean. To seduce for pleasure, profit, and utility. I hadn't seduced anyone at that point, not cause I'm some blushing virgin, a Templar seduction specialist popped that in our first seduction lesson, but because I hadn't yet decided which area of society I wanted to infiltrate. The past month was survival, get money, get supplies, get a base and I did that I'm well stocked and living in a defensible Precursor Temple. I've had my gear altered, My guns had been adapted to use Dust rounds, local poisons and medical herbs had been identified, I had a forge for making throwing knives and my favorite Indian Assassin stakes. I had plenty of money, I wasn't rich in any sense but I had enough to survive for another three months if I use a minimum amount of non reusable supplies while in combat and use the generator sparingly.

Perhaps seduction was in order, I needed connections and money. Pickpocketing was all well and good but after a month people and the police knew there was a prolific pickpocket and were on the lookout. I hadn't been able to acquire the same amount of cash I had in the beginning cause everyone was on alert. Not like I had anything against using my body to make money, I was well skilled in pleasuring women and men and I knew it. No bad course of action that would only land an infiltration into the society of the underclass, I needed either low level government or organised crime networking and courtesans and their johns were not that. Hmm a better connection would be made if I were to hire them… wait! no!... I looked at my medical data elevated hormones… great… I needed to make decisions that would alter the course of my life here and I'm horny. Just great. Fuck you Abstergo millions of dollars making us the best killing machines on earth and you couldn't fix teenage horniness while you were building us.

Seeing no point in it going on any longer I using the Neural Unit turned off sex hormone production and flushed my system of them. A minute after the flush I was back up and ready to get back to work. Pulling my Scroll over to me I checked what was going on in Vale when I saw it. Beacon, a huntsman school, was having entrance exams soon that was good, huntsmen were part of the government but not utterly beholden to it their main duty being clearing Grimm from the kingdoms. There it was my opportunity go to Beacon infiltrate society as a huntsman and dig in for the long haul, god knows if my distress beacon was reaching the Templar Order but I hope it was and I hope they come soon. Unplugging my Neural Unit and retracting my NTC into my neck before closing my neck port I had made my decision. Infiltrate, Assimilate, Succeed. May the Father of Understanding guide me.

Unknown to me a ways away at Beacon Headmaster Ozpin held his scroll which held a message. "Templar Knight ACB1U1JTR, Requesting Assistance, Mission Complete, Location Unknown, May the Father of Understanding Guide us"

Achievements Unlocked:

Welcome to Remnant: Have your first mission go horribly wrong

You're Not Gonna Make Many Friends: Kill the first person you meet

Yeah You're Really Not: Also the second

JTR Phone Home: Build a distress beacon to call the Templars

Shadow Governments Again? : Gain the attention of the secret order of the world

Item Acquired:

A Murder Weapon... I mean… The Chef's Knife

Inspecting:

The Chef's Knife: +1 to Frenzied Stabbing and Electroshock Torture

Inventory:

Chef's Knife x 1 in a Knife Sheath at The Left Hip

Hidden Blades x 2 Inside Sleeves

1 Back Mounted Weapons Case Containing Assorted Weapons (At The Bunker)

44. Magnum Revolvers Engraved with Templar Engravings and Long Barrels x 2 in a Side Holster on The Right

1 Pouch Containing First Civ Artifact - (Don't Touch!)

1 Templar Outfit (Shay McCormac's) with modern armor inserts and fibers

Author's Note: This is a really well disguised self insert cause in all senses it isn't. It's just a character with a similar personality and headspace as me. I write Jack a bit more psychopath than me but considering I'm a borderline sociopath and diagnosed paranoid schizophrenic that isn't saying much. I'm not frenzied stabbing, that would get blood everywhere I'm more knife in the back with a smile. On a more sane note I applaud anyone who can figure out what Jack's serial number means, all the pieces are in the chapter you just need to put them together to be understood. And yes the phonetic alphabet is wrong on purpose. And yes the character is supposed to sound OP cause to him he is in his view he's a bred and born assassin hunter equipped with beyond state of the art First Civ based cybernetics and has lived all 17 years of his life so far living genetic memories of the best Assassins and Templars and training sims to hone his skills. But he's in a foreign land with little ID, none of the mission support he is used to, no clue how to fight Grimm beyond stab/shoot the thing, and no supplies. He's an assassin hunter in a world where the threat is not human and has no clue how to use his talents.

Fun Note: I was trolling the Assassin's Creed wiki as I was writing this and the more I looked the more my character seems plausible in the AC universe.

This was Chapter 1 and I own nothing, Ubisoft and Rooster Teeth do.