disclaimer: I don't own Assassin's Creed or any of its characters.

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The thoughts.
(Which was difficult for any Observer to decipher.)

"The normal speech."
"(Which could always be heard by Observers.)"

- The words of Observers. -
- (Which was broadcast.) -

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Content Data, Glitch

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[Abstergo System- Animus Training Program]

Memory File_ Unknown

Uploading...

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WARNING.

Virus Detected.

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Memory File_ Templar Agent #84

Deleting...

Deleted.

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Memory File_ Templar Agent #221

Deleting...

Deleted.

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[Black Room] (Desmond. Clay.)

Memory File_ Unknown

Uploading...

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WARNING.

Virus Detected.

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Memory File_ Subject #16

Deleting...

Failure to locate Memory Files.

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Memory File_ Subject #17

Deleting...

Failure to locate Memory Files.

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[Animus Island.] (Desmond. Clay.)

Desmond groaned, feeling a sharp pain in his head. "What the hell just happened?" He mumbled, slowly getting up from where he has been laying on the ground.

"We were discovered snooping, wandering outside our designated partitions." Clay's voice sounded from the sides and Desmond turned, seeing the other man slacking on a large rock. "By a virus it seems. But fortunately I was able to pull us back here before the Animus bug could actually catch us."

"That doesn't sound assuring."

"It doesn't." Clay rolled his eyes. "The system is getting unstable. Too many different sequences running at the same time, not enough spaces in the memory drive. It gives some computer virus the opening to run rampage, deleting archives left and right. And I'll be betting the idling files and the corrupted files will be the first to go."

"... So are we idling files or corrupted files?" Desmond asked, but felt stupid almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

Clay looked at him. "I think there's a problem that you are starting to think yourself as files." He said. "But strictly speaking, we're both. Since our archives aren't running."

"Okay, stop." Desmond held up his hands in defeat. "I didn't even know we need to run our own memories!"

The older man sighed in exasperation. "Tell you what, I think we should change tactic. I'll deal with our idling files, and you can go look for the synch nexus."

"Alone?!" The former bartender did not like the idea at all. "That's decades of lifetime to cover. It'll take forever!"

"So better STOP wasting time." Clay said, already pushing the reluctant conscious of the younger Assassin towards the ominous bluish white glow. "Get going!"

"What about that weird glitch? What about that weird glitch!"

His complaints went unheard.

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[Abstergo System]/[Memory Corridor]

Animus Anti-Virus Programs

Uploading...

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Memory File_ Unknown

Deleting...

Deleting...

Deleting...

Failure to locate Virus Memory Files.

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[Black Room]/[Memory Corridor- Safe Mode]

Animus Anti-Virus Programs

Uploading...

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Memory File_ Unknown

Deleting...

Deleting...

Deleting...

Failure to locate Virus Memory Files.

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[Jerusalem. 1191.] (Ezio.)

Glitches were all over the place.

After being disintegrated for no reason while making his way slowly to Damascus on horseback, Ezio found himself reconstructed in the middle of a claustrophobic garden of some sort, with fine carpets draped on the walls and colorful pillows thrown about the corners.
The only reassuring thing about this place was the very obvious Assassin insignia on the far side above the small fountain.

Where am I? Ezio thought as he waited for Desmond to manually upload the required knowledge, an understandable inconvenience for content data sentience that wandered around files where they didn't belong. Is this the rumored Assassins' Bureau?

But the database only gave him statics. And the Observer was silent.

Figuring the only course of action was through the door-less frame to the side, Ezio silently entered, eyes soon adjusted to the dimly lit chamber and focus immediately went to the person behind the desk. He was surprised to find he recognize that man.

"Malik?"

The older man looked up with a scowl, clearly had already heard the Assassin's presence in the garden. "What do you want?"

Playing the scenario, Ezio was about to open his mouth to recite the words Desmond taught him before the sudden system malfunction and reset, but then he noticed the other man's missing arm, which surely wasn't missing the last time. So the Florentine Assassin instead asked "What happened to you?" with much concern, gesturing at the missing limb.
His modern descendant had told him multiple times now to break the Italian habit of talking with his hands, but so far no luck.

The question, however, caused an unexpected negative reaction. And Malik's frown deepened considerably. "Get out. I do not find this amusing."

"No, sorry." Ezio backtracked, thinking he veered off the script again as he quickly recalled what he was supposed to say. "I'm here to find a man named Tamir. Al Mualim apparently takes issue with the works he does, and I'm told to end it."

"Leave!" Malik scathingly ground out, right hand awkwardly pointed at the doorway to his left.

Now Ezio was really at a lost. "But I was told to retrieve information on Tamir at the bureau..."

"Tamir was dead, slain by your hands in Damascus." The bureau rafiq hissed. "Or have you forgotten that as well? Like how you so conveniently forgot that I lost my arm and my brother, because of YOU!"

The accusation came as quite a shock, and Ezio didn't know what to say. His database was missing many important files and he had unintentionally skipped ahead more than a reasonable few sequences, Desmond was still silent, and the white-clad Eagle was feeling confused. "I... I'm very sorry?"

"Do you think this is funny, that you dare joke about it in my presence?!" Malik was almost screaming now. "Get out of my sight!"

This time Ezio complied, with as much dignity as he could muster, and returned to the adjoin garden. He was thinking of trying to figure out the assigned mission regardless when he discovered another major obstacle: outside the rooftop trapdoor were only bluish black fog and data-lines and nothingness.

The Animus had frozen him in a specific memory.

It happened whenever Anti-Virus Programs sanction off multiple partitions to corner system bugs and corrupted files. So Ezio considered his few options. Returning to the Memory Corridor would give him freedom, but he would also be exposed and hunted down; or to stay here and endure the wrath of Malik– who clearly hated him– until the Programs free off enough space to load the next sequence.

Ezio returned to the chamber.

"Why are you still here?"

"Malik, I'm sorry for whatever it is that you're angry at me about. But I really need a place to stay." Ezio persuaded, he didn't care about straying off the script, since being frozen meant there was no worry of desynch. "Do a favor for a fellow Assassin, ?"

Then a sword was pointed at his face, causing the Italian to retreat a step. But despite the hostility, the rafiq now looked more suspicious than angered. "You are not Altaïr." He stated, and the younger man suddenly felt his mouth gone dry. "Who are you?"

"I am Altaïr." Ezio didn't expect this turn of events and he tried to salvage the situation, all the while wondering if this is going to crash the Animus system even more. "Don't you recognize a friend?"

"Altaïr is never my friend." Malik's reply was cold as ice. "And you certainly are not him." The sword flicked dangerously. "Explain yourself, and give me a good reason why I should spare your life."

"What is there to explain?" Ezio kept his expression relatively calm, but inwardly he was panicking. All of this was not supposed to happen.

But the rafiq was apparently not very patient, and the only warning was another deepened frown before he leaped over the desk, sword posed to strike.
Despite being caught completely off guard, Ezio– having a lifetime of skills ingrained into his basic memory core– immediately brought up his left hidden blade in defense.

CLANK!

But of course, the blade shattered the second time.

And now the Florentine Eagle was cursing the skills programmed so thoroughly into his existence and the reflexes that he, as data, could not possibly break. Dodging to the side, he tried in vain to find the opening to draw his sword. But Malik didn't give him any chance, and it was a quick fight after that in the enclosed space.

"Talk." The older man demanded, pinning the hooded Assassin onto the ground with the sharp of the blade at his neck.

If I break the system I'm blaming it on Desmond. Ezio thought, holding up his hands with some difficulty to show that he wasn't planning to struggle. "I'm Ezio Auditore da Firenze, 15th century Assassin from Italy." He spilled out. "I am only accessing this memory file because Altaïr's data are unavailable."

Malik glared at him. "You are speaking in riddles." He hissed, pressing forward, the tip of the blade drawing fresh blood. "You are either mad or you wielded sorcery to claim another's body. And I am inclined to believe the latter, however impossible, since you clearly has that moron's face."

"No! This is... uhh..." Ezio wanted to kill whoever or whatever caused this glitch. "I was bewitched by the Templars!" He was making things up at random now. "It was the Apple; the Templars used it to make me believe I am someone else."

The one-armed man looked at him. "The Templars?"

"Yes!"

"You mean the Crusaders."

"NO!" Ezio groaned. "I mean the group that called themselves Templars!"

"As in the Crusaders?" Malik questioned, very suspicious.

"No! Stop obsessing over the Crusaders!"

"You brought them up!"

"I DIDN'T!" The younger man almost wailed. "How can you not know about the Templars?"

"They are a branch of the Crusaders."

"No! I mean... yes, they are. But it's not the same."

Malik just stared at Ezio like he was crazy, or stupid, or both. And Ezio just wanted to bang his head on the wall.

Desmond? Anybody? Reload this file please?

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Note- Small reminder

It is slightly more complicated but put simply, the Templar Order as a complete independent organization from the Crusaders Armies was only revealed late in AC1. A conspiracy discovered by Altaïr. (And sadly, it is a mistake too many fan writers make.)
The knowledge dissonance thus resulted in the confusion between Ezio and Malik.

Also as noted in chap1, the hidden blades of the 12th century were extremely brittle. They cannot be used for defense.
It is in fact the canon reason why Altaïr lack the deflecting ability while using his hidden blade.

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[Memory Corridor- Safe Mode] (Altaïr. Desmond. Clay.)

What the hell? Desmond looked at his hands. He had hands! And legs! And a body! And wearing the same black hoodie from the one in Animus Island!

But it shouldn't have happened. He launched his conscious as an Observer; he didn't upload his data. The system shouldn't have constructed a physical form for him in the Memory Corridor, but it did. And something had gone very, very wrong. Because the Anti-Virus Programs were probably still looking for wandering corrupted files and the elusive Animus bug, and the said bug was likely still roaming free deleting any file it could find.

And Desmond had just stupidly uploaded his data into the Memory Corridor, due to some absurd coding mistake, right out in the open. For those two predatory Programs to find and slaughter.

Juuust GREAT!

He started running, looking for any arrays or clusters that would allow him to take temporary shelter...

You should not be here.

Desmond paused, looking around. The voice sounded familiar, but due to everything being binary in this endless Corridor, he could not make out the language it was spoken in. Did someone just talked?

I did.

The ex-bartender looked up.

The tail of long robes and black capes was digitally constructed a few yards overhead. A man was crouching at a slightly higher but equally invisible plane, peering down at him from under his white hood.

The modern Assassin didn't immediately recognize the man in the eccentric looking black and red multilayered cloak, but then he widened his eyes.

... Altaïr? Desmond softly asked, walking forward, but he wasn't very sure. The hood was hiding most of the other man's face, and those were not the white robes he was familiar with.

The man slightly dipped his head, as an acknowledgment. Are you doing well, Desmond?

The modern Assassin wasn't sure how to respond exactly, only a few exchanged words and he already noted that this person was a bit too– Gentle? Kind? Soft-spoken? It felt weird.

Yes, I guess I'm fine. Relatively.

That is good.

Okay, stop right there. Desmond raised his hands in surrender. You're acting all... different. It's freaking me out!

Different?

Different from the Altaïr I know.

A soft chuckle. You only know me during my younger days. The cloaked man mused, and Desmond suddenly noticed the many creases on his hands. But I am afraid I cannot allow you to see him, if I have a say.

Why?

It is too dangerous.

Desmond frowned. I don't understand.

The sentience wears many masks. Altaïr answered, a wrinkled hand moved to cover half of his face. And Desmond saw the golden glint of his eyes from underneath those aged fingers.

Desmond swallowed. The sentience? He asked, now taking cautious steps back.

The pixels surrounded the Master Assassin were changing, the blacks disappearing quickly while the whites become more predominant. And as the hand slowly lowered, it wasn't hard to notice the wrinkles smoothed over, regaining its youth and power.

The virus.

At the simple reply, Desmond paled, before making a 180 degree turn and fleeing at the top of his speed.

A very soft, very distinct, and too familiar Tzing! of the hidden blade sounded behind him. And Desmond suddenly really, really wanted to kill Clay for making him try to find the synch nexus when the system was this unstable. Because now, a half-crazed and horrifyingly fast Masyaf Eagle was flying after him with something sharp and pointy in his hand!

And unlike in a memory sequence, the Animus super bug was very capable of erasing him for real.

Speaking of Clay...

CLAY! Desmond screamed in his head. The file corrupted by the virus is the archives of young Altaïr, so whatever you do, don't load it!

- It's a little too late for that now. -

Desmond almost jumped when he heard the guy's voice.

- Is your mind totally broken? Why did you upload your data? -

It was a mistake, or a glitch, whatever. Desmond panted, chancing a look back. No sign of the white-clad death angel in sight, but it still didn't feel safe. Clay, before you start laughing, load me into a memory where I can hide.

- The Anti-Virus Programs locked off most files to corner the bug. -

I'm being chased by it, him, whatever!

- I'll hack into something. Wait a min. -

My life is on the line here!

- I found a platform available, but you're not going to like it. -

Uhh...?

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[Abstergo System- Animus Training Program] (Desmond.)

Memory File_ Subject #17

Uploading...

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Oh, come on. You load me into the Abstergo System?! Desmond bemoaned, burying his head into his hands as a beautiful Venetian night constructed around him.

Seriously. Fuck my life.

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The Training Program is the AC:R multiplayer.
For those who are not so familiar with the game, it is a virtual platform for advance Templar training via the Animus.

[Memory Corridor] is whitish, accessed through the usual means (AC1, AC2, AC:B, AC3). [Memory Corridor- Safe Mode] is blackish, accessed through the [Black Room] (AC:R).
Logging into the white Corridor via Black Room will instantly get Desmond or Clay detected and deleted by the Program.