Vidic chuckles, almost sinisterly. "It's alright, now, about your task for today"

He gestures for you to take a seat in the chair opposite, you make your way over, almost lethargically. The material of the floor enhancing the sound of your heels as you make your way toward the chair.

You sit down, and wait for him to continue as usual, you sometimes think that, having this routine every day, you know every move he's going to make.

"I feel we are getting closer toward finding the key, assigning you to the Sample 17 project was the best thing that could have happened, your analysis skills are the best we could ask for, and why wouldn't that be the case- your my Granddaughter. Keep doing what you're doing, load up the last memory and continue on from there"

You nod and get up from your chair "Thank you Vidic- I mean Grandfather" you make your way out of his office and back towards your own.

He wasn't your Grandfather by blood, you had a Step-Father, your Father disappeared when you were 6, and left you only with a necklace which he asked you to always wear, and you have. You were devastated, as was your Mother. But eventually her wounds healed as one of your father's friends came into the picture as a sign of comfort, his name was John Vidic, her wounds from the death of your father healed and she married John when you were 13, you never liked him though, and he never liked you, there was a bad aura around him – as there is around your Grandfather, you tried to tell your mother, but she never listened, blinded by her love for John, thinking he could do no wrong.

Then, when you were 15, almost ten years after your father's disappearance, you walked home from school to find your mother's lifeless being cradled in the arms of your stepfather.

You sighed in relief while walking home, the weekend! You'd pretty much had enough of school as it was nearing the holidays.

You walked across the empty road and under the broken gate opposite your house.

Your house had a large field and tree's around it, which meant seclusion, peace and quiet and little interruption.

As your house came more and more into view you noticed a difference that caused your stomach to drop and a lump to form in your throat. The downstairs windows were smashed, and the door was kicked open, walking became jogging, then your jogging became running.

Your breaths became ragged and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears as you stopped outside the kicked-down door, you placed one of your shaky hands onto the door frame.

You heard no movement, the deed must have already been done, sobbing could be heard from the living room, deep sobbing, it sounded like your stepfather, your eyes burned with tears as you knew your mothers fate.

You made your way into the house, using the walls for support, and turned into the living room, never will you forget that image.

Your mother's body, bloodied and limp, in the arms of your Step- father, who was cradling her in tears, shards of glass from the broken window surrounded them.

The tears in your eyes fell, but you remained silent, trying to comprehend the scene before you, she was stabbed; repeatedly at that, the one who killed her must have gave her no mercy, you looked at your stepfather and a sense of pure hatred filled your being, you never knew why.

He eventually looked up and saw you; there were tears in his eyes, but not enough to redden them.

He didn't say anything; he just looked at you, as if trying to feel what you felt, to be in your position, a girl who has lost both her parents.

"I'm so sorry" He finally said, but you questioned the honesty of his tone.

You didn't respond, so he looked down, put his hand into his pocket, retrieved his phone and dialled 911.

"Please, there's been a break in, my wife's been killed"

You knew, from then on, that your life had made a turn for the worst, now he was your guardian.

You cringed inwardly at the memory.

Even though you hadn't been in love, not in that way, you always knew that your step-father never truly loved your mother, it was this feeling, this aura, you always knew she loved him, maybe as much as your father, but there was this look in his eyes, when she turned away after a chaste kiss on the lips or after a conversation, his face would just drop, from whatever emotion he was expressing toward her. You felt like she was a conduit for a plan of his, as you are for your Grandfather.

You walked into your office; your Vidic was kind enough to give you your own, probably to ease you into the job as it wasn't your choice; it was your Step-father and Grandfathers.

You found your office door and punched in the code, it beeped in success and the door clicked open, you walked in and shut it behind you.

Your desk is in a spherical shape, but the front is open which allows you to sit down, around you are a variety of things, some action figures featuring in prominent assassins; - Altair Ibn-La'Ahad, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, and Ratonhnhaké:ton. You picked up the plastic Ratonhnhaké:ton action figure and inspected him closely; he looked nothing like the real thing, as did the others.

You knew of the Assassin's, and the Templars, and you knew you were working for a Templar organisation without a choice, but you would never call yourself a Templar – they want to control the world, save it from itself, You'd probably be an Assassin than Templar, though you'd never say it aloud. Your other colleagues were searching for other things – they called them the pieces of Eden, you don't know how they originated but you know they have the ability to control people in some way.

But the Temple Key? You had no idea what that was for, probably to open a temple to find a Piece of Eden they need to retrieve.

Your Grandfather and Step-Father were mad men, consumed by the thought of power and control, nobody should be controlled, and if you could, you'd try and stop them; but you could not, you were simply a conduit in a situation that completely alludes your understanding, which is why you need answers, because you have a feeling you're involved in something you are going to regret for the rest of your life, even if it is not by choice.

The Animus computer standby screen was lit brightly, a green background with the 'ANIMUS' logo in the middle.

You press ENTER, and a welcome message starts, with Ratonhnhaké:ton's figure on the screen.

"Welcome to Animus Omega, Abstergo Industries proprietary Ancestral Memory Research Tool. If you have any questions, comments or concerns on how to operate your Animus console, please contact your project supervisor, WARREN VIDIC."

You sigh and rest your hand on your chin, same thing every day.

"You have been registered as part of the sample 17, project, your primary research target is Ratonhnhaké:ton, born 4th April 1756 in Kanatahséton, Mohawk Valley. Callibrations complete, all signs normal, all systems optimal, Extra-neural Transmitters activated."

You take your hand off your chin and get ready to focus as the memory starts to load up.

Here we go again.