[Accessing memory...]

Memory Block 2:

Sequence 20: The Defector

[Commencing memory...]

Time froze. Kanon stood there, eyes wide open. He wanted to believe she was there in front of him. He wanted to make sure that she was back. He wanted to move, walk his ass over there, and give her a great big hug. He wanted to tell her that he missed her, kiss her on the lips, and then act as if those years that passed by didn't exist at all.

But he didn't do anything. He just stood there. A gust of wind brushed aside his hair back and forth in front of his face, but that didn't bother him at all. His mouth was half way opened, as if he wanted to speak, but no words came out. With his heart pounding, he raised his hand to reach out to her, but at a blink of an eye, she vanished. Kanon didn't take his eyes off though, as within another blink of an eye, she reappeared. Static disrupted her appearance like an electromagnet to a hologram...

[Warning: Memory may be destabilizing...]

[Running diagnostics... Error found.]

[Subject's emotional state is unstable. Synchronization is faltering... Subject is at risk for possible side effect.]

[Would you like to continue anyway?]

The woman talking to an Assassin was directed towards Kanon as he noted his presence. She turned towards Kanon, her jaw dropping slightly, as if she couldn't believe that he was right in front of her. She made her way over to Kanon, who didn't move.

"Was this a dream? A figment of my imagination?" he wondered, "It's gotta be. She left years ago with Cesare Borgia... there's no way she'd be here, with the Assassins... I gotta be dreaming... I'm just being delusional again, like every single night..."

A screenshot of the dream he had this morning flashed into his mind: A woman shrouded in shadows embraced Kanon, hugging his body, kissing him on the lips, stood out vividly to him. So if this was a dream, then he wouldn't feel anything if they kissed...

But he did. The woman walked over to Kanon, grabbed his head slightly, pulled it closer towards her, and kissed him on the lips, closing her eyes, immersing herself in it. Kanon didn't struggle; He closed his eyes as well (which was a lot better than opening it) and started to kiss passionately. He kept rubbing his lips over hers, remembering how warm she was, remembering how soft her lips were, remembering how much he missed them. How much he missed her...

Then he stopped. She kept on kissing him, but Kanon couldn't anymore; All those feelings of loneliness and anger welled up inside him. He remembered the nights where he missed her, but he also recalled the nights that he began to slowly hate her for leaving him. He started to lose his sanity a little from having a relationship suddenly cut off: Not even a goodbye was uttered.

"Ahem," the Assassin playfully coughed, interrupting their performance, "I would've introduced you to each other, but I see you have already met." The Assassin smiled slyly, embarrassing the woman. Kanon remained unfazed.

"What's she doing here, Francesco?" Kanon asked coldly, letting his hatred show. That hurt her: She glanced down to the ground with a sad look on her face.

"This woman, Fiora Cavazza," Francesco explained, "She is the defector from Cesare Borgia. She has quite a list of people associated with him that she's willing to give us."

"Oh? Well, what happened?" Kanon inquired sarcastically, "Did you find someone else who could take you away?"

"Kanon..." she said softly, obviously disheartened by the fact that he's being so heartless towards her. He tried to look away from her eyes, trying to hold back feelings of guilt, trying to hold back from apologizing.

"Well," Francesco broke the ambient awkwardness, "Aside from Kanon's... "crude" remark, he did raise up an interesting point. Why are you defecting from Cesare?"

"You want to know why?" she turned towards Francesco, placing her hand on her chest, starting to get riled up, "He almost sent me to my death! He almost got me killed!"

"Whoa," Francesco replied, "Wait a second... You mean, all that blood in your bedroom, that was-?"

Kanon's eyes shifted towards Fiora, obviously still worried about her despite the front he was putting up. Was she attacked? She doesn't look hurt, but there was mention of blood. What's going on? Intigued, he let down his defensive guard, trying to listen in on what she has to say.

"Allow me to explain what happened..." she started, ready to weave a tale...

[A file containing a simulation of events exists... Would you like to run the program?]

[Booting simulation: Fiora Cavazza x Malfatto]

[10%...25%...45%...60%...80%...95%...100%]

[Loading complete.]

[Running simulation...]

Fiora returned home after a hard day of work. While serving under Cesare, she became his most trusted agent while still serving as a courtesan. She didn't mind however, as it wasn't like working at the Rosa In Fiore: She had money and power, so she could choose who she slept with and how much it would cost. However, the gig was more of a job than moonlight: Men carried loose lips when they are in the presence of an angel, and if Madonna Solari taught her anything, it's that women can use their lips to spill the men's.

That part of the job was easy however: All she really had to do was to either lie on her back or get down on all fours. But it was boring for Fiora, who'd gotten used to killing with a blade after serving Cesare. She'd worked with many of his best agents, such as Baltasar de Silva the barber, Il Carnefice the executioner, and the unforgettable twisted siblings Cahin and Caha, who'd put on shows to masquerade their killing. Fiora loved killing... She'd regularly lick the blood that stained her metal fan in a sexual fashion, as it turned her on more than any man could.

But today was different: It was her most difficult assignment ever. It had started off as simple as it could've been: Cesare Borgia simply asked her to present a letter. Anyone could do it, so obviously, he could trust his best agent to do it for him, correct? Not so: The receiver of the letter was a man named Malfatto, a doctor that, while is the best in the business, is also known to use that profession to his advantage: He had killed countless people with grotesque methods such as slitting their throats, disemboweling them, and even decapitation. Worst of all, all of his victims were courtesans...

So naturally, when Fiora came up to present the letter to Malfatto, he was quite pleased; Not because she was a beautiful young woman coming on to him, but because despite being out in the open, he set up shot next a very dark alley, and now, he had a new toy to play with. He grabbed her by the arm, trying to take her inside the alley to continue his terrible reign of twisted experiments. She resisted obviously, by shouting Cesare's name.

"Wait, I'm a messenger from Cesare, Cesare Borgia!"

Malfatto instantly let up. Fiora, catching her breath, dug into her pocket to hand Malfatto a letter emblazoned with the mark of the Borgia. Malfatto, not apologizing for his actions, merely takes the letter and shrugs her off.

"What, you're not going to apologize?" Malfatto doesn't even turn around to acknowledge her. As far as he's concerned, she did her job. Upset, she muttered the words "You monster" out loud before taking her leave, not seeing the slight twitch that Malfatto exhibited...

So she sat at home, late at night, trying to unwind after a near death encounter. She had popped open a fresh bottle of wine, only the best for her, and poured herself a glass, toast to the good life and take a sip. She tried to relax on her bed with nothing but her white underwear on, lying beneath the covers. She closed her eyes to sleep, but she felt something pricking her neck... At first, she just dismissed it as an insect. so she proceeded to smack it off, but to her surprise, she felt a hand with hers...