Tight as a rich-man's pocket, the ropes suffocated the skin around Remi's wrists, holding him to the chair he was tied to.
The warmth of fresh blood slowly percolated down to his perfectly filled lips from his nose; the beating he was receiving from the Templar Leader - Duccio Ravello - was horrifyingly brutal. Remi wasn't sure how much longer he would last, but he knew that he couldn't spill the beans on the whereabouts of the treasured 'Apple of Eden.' He would rather die an Assassin than give in to the bastardi, (bastards).
"Not gonna talk eh?" Duccio raised an eyebrow to the kid, fixing his sleeves so that Remi's blood didn't stain his expensively fitted-suit and newly designed armour. "You know, I didn't believe it when they told me you wouldn't give in. I even betted on it. For such a young man like yourself, you're doing well to protect your order."
"Is that admiration I hear within your voice?" Remi gazed up to the tall, crooked man.
Despite his state and the dangerous situation he was in, Remi remained his cocky and sarcastic self, testing Duccio's patience; it surprised the Templar Leader, but also disgusted him that he persisted calm and unthreatened. With that, Duccio raised a fist and struck Remi across the face once more, spitting on the floor near his feet in disrespect.
"Sir Ravello! Sir Ravello!" One of the Templar guards yelled as he entered the secluded room, panting and trying to catch his breath.
"What is it, Dodger?" Duccio asked, bringing his attention to the distressed guard and turning his back on the Assassin.
"It's Master Hugo," Dodger broke into a whisper, looking terrified. "He's coming to retrieve the Apple."
"But we do not have possession of the Apple as of yet," Duccio stated, sounding and looking rather worried.
"Exactly Signore (Sir)," Dodger spoke, knowing that without the Apple, they were all doomed - Master Hugo got very angry if things did not go his way.
There was a short pause of anxious worry before Duccio finally snapped and turned himself back around to face the Assassin, ready to resume his torture session and ordering, "Assassin, you better give up the location of the -" before he could finish, he noticed that the Assassin was no longer tied to the chair. "What? Where did he go?" Duccio questioned, letting his eyes quickly scan the room before turning to Dodger. "Did you see where the Assassino (Assassin) went?"
"No Signore. I only saw him tied to the chair," he replied innocently.
The two baffled Templars instantly began searching for Remi in complete terror; they knew that the Assassin was their only hope of discovering the location of the Apple. They desperately needed the Piece of Eden in their grasp to hand over to their Master Hugo - their lives legitimately depended on it.
Remi watched the two Templars search for him from the opening of the broken roof in amusement. He enjoyed seeing his enemies afraid, and the fact that they were afraid of someone that he was not, was encouraging. How could the two idioti (idiots) not realise that his braces included his double hidden-blades? Of course given the chance, Remi would use them to cut through the ropes that held his hands together.
He sat down at the opening ledge, watching the Templars flee out of the secluded room to call their troops. Remi rolled his eyes, knowing that he was now notorious and the guards were out on the look for him.
"Well, so much for sitting down," he muttered to himself as he stood back up, making sure there were no archers on the rooftops.
Once the coast was clear, he made a dash towards the edge of the building, leaping from one rooftop to the next. The cold breeze blew past him as he performed multiple parkour stunts, revealing a small smile in the corner of his lips as he felt the cooling air soothe his beaten face. Sometimes he enjoyed being an Assassin, for many rewarding reasons. However, other times were not so rewarding - take a beaten face for an example.
It didn't take Remi long to escape the restricted area and make it back to the Assassin's guild, barely in one piece.
"Remi!" Cordelia exclaimed, running towards the young Assassin with open arms. "What happened to you? You've taken quite the beating. We were so worried."
"Si (yes), worried enough to come looking for me," Remi bluntly stated, glaring over at La Aquila - known as 'The Eagle.'
"Don't be so shallow, Remilio. A great Assassino such as yourself do not need aiding," La Aquila replied to Remi's targeted protestation.
"Don't give me that merda (shit)," Remi uttered, giving La Aquila a strong shove which sent the man over a nearby table.
"Remi!" Cordelia yelled, jumping in front of the angry Assassin and tried to console him. "Violence against our own will solve nothing."
"She's right Remilio," La Aquila stood up from the ground, pattering down excess dirt from his cloak. "Do you really think sending several of my men to save you after you got yourself into such a mess with the Templars, will benefit anybody other than yourself? Why should we take such a big risk for someone who will get themselves into chaos whenever they have the given chance?"
Remi remained silent throughout La Aquila's lecture and continued to stay quiet as he commenced his small walk to his room. As he brushed past La Aquila's shoulder, the man grasped onto Remi's arm.
"Look, Remi..." he began to say, but before he could continue, Remi shrugged his hand away and proceeded to make his way to his room.
Your POV (Point of View)
You gasp for air as your eyes shoot open, your body quickly emerging into a sitting position. Your vision is slightly blurred, but clears up within a few seconds before you finally catch your breath. The room you're in is very modern, unlike the room you had just witnessed in Remi's memories which dated back to the 1500's.
"W-what just happened?" You hesitantly ask one of the laboratory assistants who seem to be gathered around you, waiting for a reaction of some sort.
"You just visited memories from a man named Remilio Auditore da Roma," one answered.
"Who is Remi-Remi..."
"Remilio," the same assistant helped you remember his name.
"Yes... who is he?" You ask, rather confused.
"Not anyone you would know," you hear a voice answer your question, but it didn't come from any of the laboratory assistants.
At the right time, the assistants moved to give space to an old-looking man that approached you. His glassy eyes were fixed onto you as his long and boney fingers pushed his square glasses up onto the bridge of his nose. His long, white laboratory cloak matched the colour of what was left of his hair, and his skin was unbelievably pale.
"W-who are you?" You stutter.
"I am the man running this operation," he replies, giving you a half-hearted smile. "You see, the machine you're sitting on is called an Animus. It allows you to relive the memories of whomever we wish for you to relive. It used to only let our patients relive memories of their ancestors, until our great colleague, Layla Hassan, discovered a new and easier way to use the machine. But we've upgraded the machine to an even better design, which adds a more impressive feature."
You sit there as still as a statue, having absolute bafflement take over your body. The only thing you recall remembering from that whole explanation was the word 'Animus' and that you were sitting on it. Immediately, you glance down at the machine you're sat on and notice that a wire is pierced through a main artery in your arm. You suddenly begin to feel light-headed, and your vision becomes blurry once again. All of this information was too much to take in, and confusing too.
"Are you alright?" One of the laboratory assistants ask, looking slightly worried.
"She's alright," the old-man says, smiling a small and evil-like smile. "She just needs some time to adjust to all of this, that's all."
An hour later...
You let your eyes lightly flicker open, noticing that you're now in a different room. You were laying down on a comfortable double-bed, whereas before you had fallen asleep - or more like passed out - you were sitting on a damn machine.
'What was it called again?' You think to yourself as you sit up, rubbing your head slightly to soothe an oncoming headache.
Just at that moment, the electronic doors to your room slid open as one of the laboratory assistants walked in. With them, they held a check-board, pen and letter. You lock your eyes onto them as they manoeuvre themselves around your room and to your side.
"Here," they say, handing the letter down to you. "You need to read this. It'll explain everything." Just as the assistants was about to exit, you stop them along their tracks.
"Wait!" You call out, catching their attention. "What is your name?"
"Luca," he replies, smiling lightly at you before leaving you alone to read the letter.
Without eagerly wanting to open to letter, you finally come to the decision to read the fine printed words:
'Dear Doctor Samuel H. P. Sullivan,
I am writing to you to request an opportunity for my daughter - (Y/N) - to take part in your study. She's a bright kid, and a one for science for sure. I believe that she'll be more than willing to participate in your experiment, along with being eager to help and support you in any way, shape or form.
I myself, was once a Templar... or better known these days as Abstergo Industries. I would have loved to be an assistant in this experiment, but my age makes me a disadvantage. However, my daughter who's heritage is with the Templars, is a young, beautiful and smart lady. I've read about the recent update on the Animus and the new features; I'm sure (Y/N) be able to help you obtain what you need.
As for the money, I'll accept cash, checks and transactions.
Thank you, Doctor S. H. P. Sullivan.
Diego Russo.'
"My... father?" You whisper to yourself, shocked to see his name. "He sold me out to this place?"
You raise your head, wiping a tear away from your eyes as you see the large initials 'A.I.' on the wall. You gathered it stood for, 'Abstergo Industries.' And to find out that your own father had given you up to be a laboratory experiment for money, was heartbreaking.
"What do they want?" You ask yourself, instantly remembering the memories of Remi you had relived an hour back. "The Apple of Eden. They want the Apple of Eden. But why?"
Just at that moment, the doors to your room slide open once more, and in walked that old-man with two of his laboratory assistants.
"Follow me," he orders you, turning his back to you and without reassurance, makes his way out into the laboratory.
Without being able to state otherwise, you stand up from the edge of your bed, leaving the letter along side it and followed the old-man to the laboratory.
"What're are you going to do?" You ask him, not thinking twice before speaking.
"We're sending you back," he replies, giving a noticeably fake smile.
"Sending me back?" You ask, confused. "Back where?"
"Oh? Didn't you know?" The old-man questions as his two laboratory assistants grab your arms and pin you down to the Animus. "It's our new feature..."
"New feature?" You raise your curiosity.
"I must have forgotten to mention," he chuckles before finally sharing the truth. "We've discovered how to send people back, to the past."
"Like a time-machine?!" You bellow, a tone of fear in your voice as the two laboratory assistants strap your wrists down with metal cuffs linked to the Animus.
"Not quite," the old-man approaches you, peering over you as you lay fastened down to the machine.
As he approaches you, you notice a name-tag on his white laboratory cloak with the initials 'Dr. S. H. P. Sullivan.' It was him! The man your father had sent that letter to. The man who was in charge of this experiment. The man who was now, in charge of you.
"Think of it more like a game," he informs you, smirking slightly. "Once you're in the machine, you'll be sent back to 1530 in order to befriend the young Assassin - Remilio Auditore da Roma. We need you to discover the location of his Piece of Eden, so then we can possess it. Once you're logged out of the Animus, you will no longer exist in the year 1530 and everyone you befriend can search the outskirts of the country, but will never find you... unless you log back into the Animus where in which you'll reappear. Understand?"
You nod as a response, unable to fully answer the man as you're in both complete confusion and fear. With that, Dr. Sullivan gives the 'go-ahead' nod to his assistants, and they proceed to log you into the Animus.