A.N: I know that crossovers are supposed to be categorized as such, problem with that and this story, it's an Altair and Malik fanfiction more than anything…I posted this (still need to be edited) first chapter so you guys could tell me what I should do with this fanfiction:
Keep it where it is or change it to a cross over?
Responses will be much appreciated.
Note: I'm not a professorial writer (a novice at best) and I'm willing to receive critique for improvement.
A.N: Heavily Edited (03/22/2013)
A.N: (03/27/2014)***IMPORTANT UPDATE***: No the fanfiction is not gone, it is just currently getting a major revision with the help of the wonderful Beta reader Gavindor. So be on the look out for the almost all new chapters of "Bound by Infection". Hope you will all like it ;)
A.N: (05/20/2014)*****UPDATE******: Finally after a lot of hard work the reboot of the Intro is complete. None of this would have been possible without the generosity of Gavindor. Now without a further ado...
Intro
~1191 Jerusalem: Solomon's Temple ~
Water dripped from the overhead stalactites onto their partners below in the long, shadowy tunnel. A hidden blade synchronized its strike to the droplets, piercing itself into the cervical vertebrae of an elderly man, whose curiosity was rewarded with an Assassin's fang. That Assassin being Altair Ibn-La'Ahad.
"An excellent kill!" The journeyman applauded with childish admiration. "Fortune favours your blade."
Altair restrained his bloating pride from blighting his elegant composure, but he did permit a smile.
"Not fortune. Skill." He turned from the limp prey at his feet to a toothy-grinning Kadar. His elder brother, Malik, following closely behind, scowled as darkly as the shadows that concealed him. Altair ignored the disapproving gesture. "Watch a while longer and you might learn something."
"Indeed," Malik inserted a venomous retort. "He'll teach you how to disregard everything the Master has taught us."
Altair's eyes flashed. "And how would have you done it?" he snapped, challenging Malik as Malik did Altair's conduct. The conduct of a Master Assassin.
"I would not have drawn attention to us." Malik boldly marched up to Altair to meet him at eye level. "I would not have taken the life of an innocent. What I would have done is follow the Creed."
"Nothing is true. Everything is permitted." Altair stated the phrase in validation. "Understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task, only that it's done."
"But this is not the way of-"
"My way is better," Altair snapped coldly, not wanting to hear another riposte from Malik's lips.
Thankfully Malik withdrew. For now. "I will scout ahead." Malik proceeded to travel further, but paused to look over his shoulder at Altair. "Try not to dishonour us further." Malik's parting words delivered one last stab at Altair's pride.
Altair continued to glare long after the thick darkness swallowed up the Assassin's back.
"What is our mission?" Kadar's voice pulled Altair out of his trance. "My brother would say nothing to me. Only that I should be honoured to have been invited."
It was understandable. A lower ranking Assassin, like Kadar, was only sent on this mission as assistance. Thus Kadar was only provided with the required amount of information to fulfill that task.
But Altair figured sharing some details would not cause any harm to their objective.
"The Master believes that the Templars have found something beneath the temple mount."
Kadar's eyes widened with awe and anticipation, as Altair predicted they would. "Treasure?" he woofed with the enthusiasm of a young boy.
As much as Altair enjoyed the reverence he received from Kadar, he refused to give honoured privileges to those who did not deserve them.
"I do not know." He crossed his arms, inferring to not ask any further questions. "All that matters is that the Master considers it important, else he would not have asked me to retrieve it."
Kadar nodded, grasping Altair's insinuation, and followed suit to his descent into the Temple.
~2008 Manhattan: Gentek Headquarters ~
The heavy skies over Manhattan dumped gallons of rain onto its streets, nearly overflowing its sewer systems.
Alex would have loved to have picked any other day than this one to infiltrate one of Gentek's headquarters. But, as his damn luck had it, there was no time to postpone this to a later date. Dana had managed to weasel out some useful intel on a device Gentek obtained from a corporation called Abstergo Industries. Apparently, Gentek was the company's subsidiary.
Whatever the device may be it seemed important to Gentek. Lately, anything beneficial to them was used by some means to kill Alex. Dana said it was a virtual hell to crack through the security system, only to gain its current location. She could not manage to dig up any further details, only that she highly anticipated that it was soon to be relocated to somewhere with more advance lockup systems.
"They're going to transport it out of Manhattan, likely 'cause they don't want you to get your hands on it. If you wanna know what I think: I think you should move your fuckin' ass and get it before we'll be wishing it sayonara."
Alex took the hint and ignored the fact that the surface of his biomass seethed rebelliously to the precipitation beating down on it.
He bit his lip in frustration and leapt off the ledge of a skyscraper overshadowing the headquarters.
This better be fuckin' worth it!
He fell alongside the rain droplets, giving it the illusion that they were suspended in the air around him. The wind whooshed passed him before he landed on the concrete roof with a loud thud. So much for the undetected approach, but Alex was too agitated to give his stealth any effort, much less give a damn. He looked around and spotted what he was searching for. An air vent.
He came up to it and melted into a black sludge, coiled himself through the thin opening and into the metal labyrinth.
"Fuck! Forgot that Hollywood was never realistic," Alex hissed as he slithered through the air vents, too small for crawling space. Dust, spider webs, insect carcases and other things he didn't want to identify stuck to him. "Sneaking in through nice wide and clean air vents my ass. Shit!" He felt a spider land on his neck. The arachnid managed to crawl down an inch before black strands shot out of Alex's back to bind and absorb it into his body.
"Better be worth it! Better be worth it! Dana, this better be fuckin' worth it!" The mantra growled on his lips. He finally dragged himself to an opening that held promise on the other side.
Peering through the narrow grilled slits, he saw two lab technicians dressed in the typical long white coats. They were discussing among themselves the perplexing artefact sent from Abstergo, to analyse its effects on organic matter.
Be it an artefact or device it all sounded like the same shit in Alex's ears.
"I heard that we're to be transferred to conduct further research," said the man with seaweed black hair and thick-framed glasses.
The other man, more heavy in frame and a forehead cracked with wrinkles, sighed in relief at the news. "If it means getting out of this hell-pit I'll work on it till the day I die."
The seaweed-head looked at his colleague. "Perhaps this artefact might be the key to defeating Zeus and containing the Blacklight virus, if what the scientists at Abstergo said is true."
Alex did not like the sound of that. The BlackWatch Army coded-named him Zeus shortly after they were deployed into Manhattan to contain the outbreak of the Blacklight virus. Although they were an elite black ops military designed to eliminate unusual threats, they were no better than mercenaries, sent out to do the dirty work of covering up evidence. The Blacklight virus was definitely a mistake that needed to be dealt with quickly, even if it meant many civilian casualties.
"Then we better get down to the lab and see that it happens." The fat man smiled and patted the other man's shoulder. "And hope to God that their theories are correct."
Alex eyed them patiently from his hiding spot, like a predator contemplating its moment to strike.
As if intended, the large man dropped his pen from his clipboard. A malicious sneer curved Alex's lips as he watched it roll away and stop perfectly underneath him.
"Go on ahead." The fat man waved off the man with glasses. "Get the elevator up, I'll meet you there."
The seaweed-head nodded and went on ahead, making a turn into another hallway and out of sight.
The fat man huffed a bit before bending over his round belly to retrieve his strayed pen. Just as his pickle fingers touched it, black tendrils descended on top of him. His body jolted at the ominous sensation of something covering his back. But his cries were smothered by the tendrils that swarmed into his mouth and down his throat.
He choked as his nails clawed at the black coils as he struggled to pull them out. The squirming body finally seized with a loud, cringing rip when the biomass sliced into his flesh. Alex consumed him from within and copied the technician's body configuration for his own.
His departing, distressed thoughts flashed into Alex's mind before past memories broke through like a den giving out to an overpowering flood. It was a process Alex took no pleasure in. The sensation felt both drowning and crushing at the same time.
When it finally subsided, Alex could focus on getting to what he came for.
From experience Alex immediately took on his new identity as Oliver Burkerwich. He retrieved the dropped clipboard and pen to quickly re-join the other lab technician.
~!-!~
The confined elevator made a smooth descent at a speed that would require its passengers to pop the pressure in their ears.
"You've gone really quiet suddenly, Oliver," said the man in glasses, who Alex now knew was named Ivan.
"Just thinking over what we'll be dealing with," Alex said, tapping the pen on the clipboard, an impulse Oliver possessed whenever he was musing.
Ivan shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah," he said softly, and looked up at the changing floor levels. "Me too."
When they reached the designated level the door slid open directly into the laboratory.
The place was enormous and brightly lit to a bleach white hue. Through Oliver's mind Alex was able identified the teeming scientists, technicians, and – what was very out of the ordinary – specialists in dead languages, mythology, and prehistory.
There was advanced equipment whose functions were to measure, dissect, preserve, and even break down matter to particles. Most of them Alex could recognize from Oliver's memories and the memories of his past victims. However, there was a handful that he couldn't tell if it was a rocket launcher or a blender.
One thing that baffled Alex in particular was a golden sphere centered in the midst of the cluttered lab, suspended by three rods protruding from a disc on top of a large mechanism, surrounded by clusters of blinking buttons and flashing screens.
No wonder both of them had to enter their fingerprints and a bunch of passwords before they boarded the elevator.
A grey-bearded technician standing by the sphere looked up from the error screen he was hunching over. "Oliver! Ivan!" Peter Atrnus, better known as Mr. Anus amongst his personnel, bellowed at them. "Get your asses in here and help me get this thing working."
"Yes, Sir." Ivan quivered and hurried in.
Alex strolled in after. No one was paying them much attention except for the glaring Peter. From a closer perspective Alex would have seen Peter's eyes rimmed red and a throbbing vein popping out from his forehead, but Alex's attention was preoccupied by the enthralling sphere. A strange primeval pattern was etched into it and from those carvings a faint light seemed to resonate from within its core.
This artefact, device, or whatever it was, had a mysterious and unsettling aura. It was like being in an enclosed room with a seemingly harmless flower before realizing that its poisonous pollen tainted the air you breathe.
Whether it had the power to stop Alex he was not entirely convinced, but Gentek was determined to use it.
And Alex was not going to let them.
"Oliver!" Peter snapped. "Security just informed us that Zeus might be within the parameter, or worse yet, in the building. So presumingly, getting your fat ass going wouldn't be too much to ask for."
Alex's fist clenched at his side. "Coming, Sir." Compensation for carelessness had a nasty bite.
Making his way to Ivan, his eyes still wondered over the device. As he stepped within a closer radius to it his vision flashed white.
The earth suddenly quaked under his feet. Even though he was inhuman with the balance to stand on a pinhead, it was as though his backbone dissolved and rag-dolled his body.
The tiled floor was cool against his face and reeked of bleach, which did not complement well with the siren ringing in his head.
His mind whirled in a panic.
Shit, what was that? Did they plant some kind of detector?
He pushed himself up on shaking arms. His body felt as though it was inconveniently strapped to an invisible, two hundred ton blue whale. When the blur in his vision clarified he managed to make out the shape of his hands.
They were not Oliver's hands. They were his hands.
Alex looked over his body. His disguise… it was removed! Stripped from him without him knowing.
But how?
The fact that something violated his control over his own body was infuriating. He fought the urge to punch a hole in a wall, or several walls. Time, however, did not allow contemplation on how this calamity happened. The precedent was to get out before Blackwatch came busting down the doors.
Alex leapt onto his feet and readied himself to sprint, but was stopped by what he saw.
Everyone in the laboratory was on the floor unconscious. They laid so still…so…lifeless. The machinery and lighting in the lab all went dark but appeared intact. The only light left emanated from the device, still perched on the rods.
Alex defensively hunched over, anticipating an ambush. His head twisted in every direction, searching, waiting.
Nothing.
From the dead silence crawled out a low whispering. It was inhuman and fast in its tongue. Alex tracked the sound, following it to the sphere.
"The fuck?" he breathed. The thing was speaking? Cautiously he lifted his foot and placed it a step closer to the device. He watched, waited. No blinding flash. No disruptive earthquake.
But at the same time the second step touched the floor, loud bursts of light pulsated from the sphere. The hushed mutters morphed into horrifying shrills and screams.
Alex cried, shielding his ears with his hands from the stabbing pain of the noise. The clashes of light beat him down to his knees. When his strength was about to give out and submit him to being flattened into paper, the overwhelming force inverted in on itself.
A vortex formed sucking everything to the screeching sphere. Alex's fingers transformed into elongated claws, each one desperately hooked deep into the ground.
The bodies reeled into the sphere's blinding light first and vanished with a flash. Then came the machinery. They screeched across the tiles before rolling towards it like tumbleweeds. One of the heavier pieces of equipment slammed against his back, unhitching him from his only piece of salvation and sent them both into the blazing wormhole.
~!-!~
If Alex was equipped with the ability to vomit, he would have projected it over everything around him, if there was anything around him.
Winding seams of bright yellowish hues circled him, imprisoning him within the spiraling vortex, constantly pulling him in a downwards direction. At least he thought it was down. The rest of the laboratory's contents had been disintegrated by the gyrating force.
His body's matter, on the other hand, was being simultaneously twisted, stretched and compressed like putty in a toddler's hands. All his energy was required to maintain himself in one deformed piece
A fissure cracked between the strands of light and generated a new suction. It pulled him in and spat him out into the darkness outside the current's bounds. He initially thought he was shot out into void space until he splattered on a wall, or more accurately, into it.
The vigor of the hurl was powerful. The uneven stoned surface Alex collided into fractured like a mirror and he winced as sharp fragments jabbed into him.
His mush of a body slopped out of the projectile crater that he was embedded in and plopped onto the cold pebbled ground. Clouds of dust and sand puffed up around him.
He groaned, drawing his biomass into an acceptable human figure. His reformed eyes peered into the new-found darkness, thankful for the lack of brightness for a change.
He was surrounded by the skeletal remains of an ancient edifice, carved deeply into the earth. The air was stale and dusty. Endless hollows of shadows enfolded the many corners behind the debris.
Slowly, Alex sat up. He rubbed his blurred eyes and blinked a few times once he regained full clarity.
Now he was able to take in the enormity of the spacious shambled chamber. Soaring pillars held the ceiling, while a few others lay in decrepit fragments. Water trickled down its jagged walls where countless tunnel entrances hung on different levels. From the few lit torches he saw that some were caved in or inaccessible from crumbled walkways, while others wormed deeper into the earth.
He had to get out of wherever this place was.
He hastily stood up, wobbling a bit from the aftermath of the roller-coaster ride of near death. But which way was he to go? Someone came down here to light those torches so there had to be an exit.
His teeth grinded as he analyzed which passageway, out of the hundreds, could possibly lead him out to open-air.
His body tensed when he saw the unexpected sight of a golden plated chest with a glow that held similar resemblance to the artefact's. It was at the end of the chamber, proudly mounted on top of a stone archway that was reminiscent of meticulous sculpting of an ingenious stone carver.
Though it was embellished with immaculate cherubim there was nothing sanctified about its aura. Its gleam was dimmer than the artefact's, providing Alex with the small comfort that it would not suddenly react, but he still added a few cautious paces between them.
Now he really wanted to get out. If not from this place then from that thing that brought him here.
Suddenly from behind him, someone was bellowing in French.
Alex had consumed enough native French speakers to make out something along the lines of: "Intruder! You won't get away!"
He didn't enjoy the sight of the raging man coming down the ladder towards him, wearing a bucket for a helmet, dressed in outdated armor, and a mantle baring a red cross; but the sight of another human being was reassuring. At least he wasn't teleported to an alien universe.
The metal plating on the soldier's boots clacked heavily once he descended upon the ground. His sword hissed out of its sheath, catching the torch's light on its blade's smooth edge. The soldier balanced his stance and held out his sword in a firm grip, ready to strike.
Alex flexed his neck and knuckles. If this man really was human, he held some vital information on where Alex was.
~1191 Solomon's Temple, Jerusalem ~
Altair treaded over the rocky terrain with careful precision, placing his feet around any loose rocks or shallow puddles to avoid disrupting the stillness of the shadows casted over him and Kadar.
On Altair's strict instructions, Kadar shadowed Altair's every step.
After climbing up a steep incline Malik came into view and could be seen standing over the edge of a deep, broad pit.
"Malik!" Kadar called out when he saw his brother and ran towards Malik.
Altair's muscles tensed. His hidden blade popped out of its brace in anticipation that Templars would come flooding in from either ends of the tunnel.
Malik's head jerked around and scowled when he saw his younger brother. "Kadar," Malik hissed once Kadar was within whispering range. "Have you already forgotten that silence is the basis of avoiding detection?"
Kadar stopped in front of Malik. "I…" Finally realizing his own mistake Kadar's smile fell. "I- I'm sorry." Kadar lowered his head and hid his face beneath his cowl.
Malik sighed and forced the muscles on his face to relax. Malik wanted to say something that did not sound harsh when a sudden white blur materialized over Kadar's shoulder.
There was a dim, ireful gleam in the core of Altair's amber eyes. "Be sure that it does not happen again," Altair growled behind Kadar.
Altair's soundless approach upon the unsuspecting Kadar caused the journeyman to flinch. Kadar quickly spun around to face Altair. "Y-yes, Master Altair." Kadar bowed his head low.
Malik watched Altair's jaw line tighten. Malik readied himself to stand between Altair and Kadar if the Master Assassin chose to inflict further discipline. But the need never arose as Altair just huffed and passed Kadar.
Altair reached the edge of the depression and stood in a way that half of his soles were over the rim. The hole stretched over the entire width of the path so there was no way to walk around it. The walls provided no niches to grab hold of to climb across. At the other end of the gap rested a ladder needed to climb out of the hole, if anyone where to fall in.
Altair could faintly make out the depth of the pit's murky base. The jump would not be fatal, but if not properly landed may result in a fractured bone or twisted ankle.
With overbearing confidence Altair stepped over the edge with outstretched arms. He landed in a roll and smoothly transitioned to rise onto his feet.
Malik tsked as Altair proceeded up the ladder without the slightest consideration of whether Malik and Kadar where following him.
Malik dropped with a light thud and into a calculated roll over his shoulder. The hard ground felt cool and moist through his layers of clothing.
Kadar's descent, however, was rougher. Kadar winced and rubbed his shoulder while drawing in a sharp breath.
Malik closely studied Kadar's walk and was relieved that there was no sign of a limp and the injured shoulder was not the one Kadar used to wield his weapons.
Altair waited impatiently, his stance stiff and prepared to walk off at any given moment. Altair watched the brothers climbed out when a brief tremor pulsed through the ground beneath their feet and rumbled the walls.
All three Assassins were silent and keenly perceptive of the tiniest disturbance.
Kadar was the first to speak. "What could that have been? Could the earth be splitting?" Uneasiness edged his voice.
"Do not speak nonsense," Altair said. "We must proceed. The Templars must not obtain the treasure."
"And you shall accomplish this by means of flouting?" Malik crossed his arms.
Altair glared at him with wrath, which, if solidified, could have slit flesh. But Malik paid no mind to his threatening sneer, or the whiteness of his baring teeth gleaming in the faint torch light. Instead Malik turned his attention down the path they were heading and became visibly unsettled.
Altair marched forward, demonstrating the audacity the others lacked. Though it was stubbornness and anger that moved him, while sensing Malik glowering at his back.
Kadar slightly whimpered and looked back the way they came.
"Come, Kadar." Malik said and his brother groaned.
~!-!~
The gut wrenching nausea threatened to overcome Alex again. His head was pounding with Cavalier de Graveline's memories, or more precisely, with the subjects of his memories that were unnervingly out of place.
- - -King Richard was leading the Crusading army to re-conquer the Holy Land from Salāh ad-Dīn - - -
- - - King Richard's lieutenant Robert de-Sable, the Grand Master of the Templar Order, was devising a plan with an alternate motive - - -
- - -to seize control of the Holy Land - - -
- - - strictly required the annihilation of an obstructing enemy Order - - -
- - - The Assassins - - -
Alex refused to analyze those thoughts any further.
Holy Land? Salāh ad – whoever? A Grand Master of Templars?
All of it seemed like references from a historic journal, a very evocative one at that. One that depicted the finest details of how Cavalier managed to take part of King Richard's merciless battle to reclaimed Cyprus. Alex could still see Cavalier hellishly massacring innocents, taking pleasure in hearing their cries and screams, while watching their blood drench the earth.
He then fought in the Siege of Acre with even less restraint. When King Richard forced the city to subjection, Cavalier and his Templar brothers manipulated the delay of a ransom between King Richard and Salāh ad-Dīn, which involved the lives of the captured Muslim prisoners in exchange for the True Cross. When Richard's judgment finally became vulnerable with impatience, they convinced him to execute the Muslims in full view of Salāh ad-Dīn's soldiers. Now the Templars secretly infested Jerusalem, seeking –
Now?
That could not be right. To refer to the event in present tense was absurd.
"No way." A compulsory chuckle jerked Alex's shoulders. "It can't be possible…"
He dove back into those insane memories again, rummaging through them as though he was ransacking countless file cabinets.
There had to be something – anything: satellites, televisions, radio waves, cars, steam engines...there wasn't even the concept of a printing press or a flying machine.
"Fuck!" His fist rammed into one of the fallen columns. It rumbled as it cracked in half and its opposite end hit the ground
He held out his arm for a long while. Heaving from the overwhelming concept…reality of actually being in the period of the Third Crusade.
He spun around and glared with a spiteful snarl at the golden box glimmering with rays of light.
All of his fury was set upon his words, "Why don't you send me to the time of the dinosaurs while you're at it? Huh?"
The rays throbbed and Alex found himself jumping back.
Stupid, this was all bullshit. Why was he flustered? Like some sort of pussy.
Alex shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to suppress his rising anger. Acting out his rage often resulted in mass destruction, which was not a particularly good idea at the moment, considering he was in very close proximity to a glowing artefact that could generate vortexes.
He tried some a relaxing technique Dana suggested to him once when she saw how his anger caused the biomass of his shoulders and arms to surge.
He focused on controlling the rhythm of his breathing. Listening to the long intakes of air through his nostrils and releasing it slowly from his mouth. After a few minutes Alex was calm enough to notice a sudden echo of distant feet rustling dirt.
Alex opened his eyes and tried to pinpoint where it were coming from. The sound approached from two directions: beneath the arch and from one of the overhead tunnels.
Alex thought it best to observe rather than encounter the two groups. It might gain him a better understanding of the situation he was in… that and to figure out if he actually was in the past and did not just consume a deranged, escaped asylum patient that thought he was a Templar.
He scaled himself up a nearby wall, fingers clawing into the hard rock, and then propelled himself to a partially standing pillar with its top untouched by the torches' lights. Once nestled and curtained by darkness, all that remained was to wait.
