Chapter One – The Third Reich

I sit outside of the virtual fortress to which the man has condemned himself. This time, there can be no escape for him. Never again will his hand alter the course of history, and with his death, the organization he belongs to will not have the complete victory they so desire.

I still cannot… grasp the extent of the world to which I have been introduced. Four years ago, I was a man with nothing to look forward to, but a slow, agonizing death over many years. That is, if I was not chosen for the medical experiments 'for the good of the nation', or if they decided that my usefulness had ran its course. Sometimes there was no reason. My father and mother both protested that there was no cause for what was about to happen to them. The guards machine guns begged to differ.

As I festered away in that hell on earth, I wondered truly who could be responsible. Who could twist men in such a way as to kill their own people for their beliefs? Was it that simple to control people? Was it easier to point out the undesirables and condemn them in the place of the true issues? Of course it was. It was far easier to tell them simple lies than to make an effort to craft a complex truth.

And before I gave up all hope… my eyes were opened.

They came for me in the night. The guards never knew what hit them. I did not know what hit them. I did not see the small dart, or the complex device which fired it towards the brute who took special sadistic pleasure in our sufferings. I did not see the venom run through his veins, destroying his ability to think as he slowly lost hold of his grip on life. A far greater mercy than he had ever shown anyone, and I saw none of it.

I see it all now of course. And I will see it every night, every time I lose grip on consciousness and unleash my dreams. I'm told that it will get easier. I pray after this, I never have to find out.

But I know I will. They told me so. The hooded figures that dropped like angels into the midst of the camp, cloaked in white. They told me they were devils. But they were devils who operated without pretence, unlike the men responsible for this… slaughter. Their words were hurried, for they could not remain forever. They had heard of me. I do not know how, but they knew of my trials, my sufferings. And they desired my aid, so that in return, they could give me what I wanted most.

I had to ask them. I had to ask who they were, how they dropped into a heavily armed concentration camp, how they struck down those that opposed them, while becoming one with the night and vanishing, with nothing but the corpse of their enemy to prove their existence.

And they answered.

'We are Assassins. Our way is through the darkness, for only in darkness can we find the light. Our truth is revealed through our creed.' It was for the first time that I realized that one of them was a woman. She performed some kind of gesture, and said the words that would become mine, as I will one day pass them down to others…

'Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.'

It was then that I knew. Maybe it was something stirring in my blood from ages past. Perhaps I had finally found purpose greater than waiting to die. Or perhaps I simply did not enjoy waiting for my execution, and knew that these people had to be a better option.

The escape was… not as planned. It was my own fault. The Assassins took me to their escape method, and I could see how it would be impossible for most. There was perhaps an insignificantly slim chance that anyone could climb over the fence and not be seen, or manage the climb itself. But if it were possible anywhere, it was here. But I was seen as I was last over the fence… and pain overrode my every system as I fell to the ground, explosive heat and intense suffering spreading out from my shoulder.

I do not know how long I was out, and in a way it was convenient. It saved them from having to blindfold me to obscure my knowledge of the route to their sanctuary. And it was there that I learned that my stupidity had got me shot through the arm during my escape.

To cut a long story short, I had put a hold on my initiation into the Assassin Order. Sometimes, I wonder if the madness would have ended quicker had I not been injured and required recovery time. … Foolish thoughts, designed simply to torment me. Besides, they only had one chance to take their target down. And they gave him to me.

This brings us once again to the concealed area from which I watch the fortress to which the architect… or at least, one of the architects of this madness hides, waiting for the opportunity to slip away into the darkness of history once more.

They told me. They told me that he had come to his power through the incredible magic held within a device they called 'The Apple'. Worse, they told me it was but one piece of many, and that it was not the only Apple in existence. Number four they called it. I flexed my right arm. Still stiff, very stiff indeed. But it would do its duty. It had healed over for one purpose, and one purpose alone.

Twice I saw him leave the bunker. Twice I contemplated breaking my cover, dashing the distance between us as I leapt into the air, bringing the blade down on him, bringing his miserable life to an end. Each vision ended with me riddled with the bullets of his guards. Then, shoot him, you might say. Shoot him from the cover, watch his life expire, and flee. … How I wished to do it, how I wished so badly. But I needed the Piece of Eden. And more importantly, I knew the Assassin way.

No matter his crimes, no matter his… his cruel hatred that had scarred my people forever… He was to receive last rites. Last rites. What man had he ever granted that privilege to?

The first time was something I found utterly unbearable. He would emerge from the bunker with a woman. The two would link hands. And they would take their dog a walk around the gardens of the Chancellery.

A dog. A dog. He could show compassion to a faithful hound, and yet he had not a fraction of mercy for any other human being. He could cast German, Jewish and foreign lives to the abyss, but upon his hound, he doted. With every exchange the two shared, with every compassionate look at that hound… I must have levelled the gun built into the blade at his head… so many times. So many. But God forgive me, I could not pull the trigger. I owed the organization my life, and my life's worth. So I forestalled my judgement. And he played with the hound until his men came for him once more.

The shelling became more intense after that. But what did I care. I had a contract. My life could not be given until his was taken. And such was the way of the world. No stray chance of fate would take me, and no stray chance would cause his death. Though many had tried… my judgement would be his deliverance.

The second time he emerged, he emerged looking more agitated than ever. I had overheard tales of tantrums, of threats of suicide. Of last, great, desperate plans to break the Soviet blockade and flee. It was all an act. I knew what he planned to do. The Apple had a way with the minds of men. All he had to do was make a sacrificial lamb, and he was free to escape to the hearts of his organization.

But the children did not know that. Those young men who despite their age, fought for their country did not know why they were truly there. They fought for this madman, who valued their lives as less worthy than his dog. And soon it was clear what they brought him up for. He went to each of them. Spoke his words, his lies. And he gave them the reward for defending Germany, defending him in the final hour. … They deserved so much more. What had they done to be tarred with his brush, with his organization, with his recognition? They wanted to protect their country. They were scared. Terrified. But no matter. It was then I saw it.

Gripped in his left hand. Obscured from the others, but casting its silent parlour over them. The Apple.

This confirmation gave me all the hope I needed. It was a hope that gave me strength, and sustained me for ten more days. And at last, I got what I had waited so long for.

He walked out of the building, having killed a man in his place. I do not know who died for him. They never identified him, and his corpse was burned. Even the dog had died. Truly, the man had no ties left to this world.

He thought that it meant he could return to his organization, a hero, and never be seen by the public eye again.

But he didn't know of the demon in the rafters, red eyes set on its human prey. No, not human. He would have seen a devil like himself. And devils deserved no mercy.

I like to think that he sensed me coming. I like to think that his mind had time to process the thought that his deeds were finally coming back to haunt him. That they returned at this moment to strike him down at this instant of triumph. The Apple would have warned him I told myself. But it did not. One moment I was on the roof. The next, the demon fell to the ground, his life ebbing from the wound to his back as I withdrew the Hidden Blade.

My face was obscured. I'd like to think he would have recognized me. Known what he did to me. I knew he did not. But I cradled his head regardless as he passed from this life.

'So… so close… I nearly… had it all…' His voice grows faint, the anger and charisma that had won him so much all but useless to him now.

'What you had, you had on the backs of millions, at the cost of a future you steered from its natural path. You had it with the deaths of my people, and many others. You had it through deception, and now you are stripped of it.'

He looks up at me as the light in his eyes grows faint. 'A… I… made sure. I made sure you could not come for me… I tried to find it… the last piece that your people held… I made sure there could be no Assassin from your ranks.'

I reached to his eyes, and closed them forever. 'Es gabnicht. Sie habenmich. Ruhe in Frieden.'(There was none. You created me. Rest in peace.)

It was finally done. Maybe… maybe now I could reclaim my life.

There came the sound of footsteps. The woman who had rescued me, gave me purpose again, came to me. She placed her hand on my shoulder.

I looked up at her.

'Nothing is true.' She said.

'… Everything is permitted.' And as we left, we returned to the darkness. For it is only there that we can see the light.

Depressing. Utterly so. But then again, if I had made this a wacky comedy, I imagine at least ninety percent of the world population would be breaking my kneecaps by morning.

The one line of actual German in this is very likely grammatically incorrect. It has been six years since the last time I studied German, and I'm afraid my linguistic skills are on the 'non-existent' category. I hope that future ones will be slightly more cheery than this, but you take what you can get.

The incidents contained within Subject 16's Glyphs makes for interesting inspiration indeed.