Part Two

Chapter 7

"Juno."

She smiles at the call of her name. It twists the smirk on her face into something beautifully cruel. Her hand turns soft then, fingers slipping easily from the knots in my hair.

"To think," she begins, fingers stilling on one lock. She holds it softly, lifting slowly until it finally slips from her hand. "That Minerva would choose you. Someone so worthless. So useless. But, then, only a creature so lonely, so miserable, would blindly follow her lead.

"Do you know?" she continues, not giving me a chance to speak. "That, when she chose you to save the world, she condemned you to death over and over again? She saw every way death would come for you. She saw your throat split, your blood spill, your world burn, until there was nothing left but smothering ash. And did she care?"

Her smile is both cruel and sympathetic as she asks. Shinny, pointed teeth peek out from behind her lips, warping her visage into something feral, evil as she crackles. Her laugh comes out both bitter and smug and just all around crazed.

"No. She didn't," she whispers, deranged laughter dying on her lips. Her words are just as smug as the look on her face, like this all just proves her right. "She saw your world burn and did it anyway.

"Do you want to know why?" she asks. By the taunting look on her face, I can tell she knows I want to. She knows I don't know anything Minerva doesn't want me too and I won't until Minerva thinks I should. "Because Minerva cares for nothing, not you or your people or even your world, more than she cares about herself and the great stain failing to save the world left on her record.

"When the war between the humans and the Isu started, do you think she chose a side?" she asks, even though she never stops long enough to let me answer. "She didn't. She just stood and watched as we slaughtered each other. Indifferent to the massacre of your race. So why would she care now? After all the Isu have fallen and have long been forgotten, why would she suddenly want to help the humans now?"

I can't speak. There's an invisible hand on my throat, squeezing. It cuts off the words that I want to let out, choking them and leaving them to die there as she speaks. As she says all she's come here to say. She's not here to listen to me, after all.

She's here to talk until she has nothing left to say.

"Minerva, the great of Calculator. The Goddess of Wisdom," she sneers again, smile still twisted and feral, but a new look comes into her eyes. Something that shines a little like respect for the woman who carved her name in history. "Has only ever failed once and the price of that failure was the world."

Her only redemption should be to save it. And she is trying. Even thousands of years after her death, she hasn't stopped. Everything she's done since before the world turned to ash has been to save it.

"There is a reason she has not told you all everything you wish to know," Juno mutters, gaze going to drift out past the window. "It's an admittedly good one. You see, Time is a fickle thing. It's ever-changing, influenced by what has happened, what will happen, and what is happening. It's neither set in stone nor completely predictable, because time is not linear.

"It never has been," she continues. "It's a convoluted mess that twists and spirals. Flows forward and backward. Everything that has ever been and ever will be is happening now. There is no past nor present nor future. Time is nothing more than a human construct to help differentiate between now and perceptions of the past.

"In our universe, of course," she admits, one thin, pale hand coming up to brush her hair over her shoulder. "Though, yours runs similarly enough for Minerva to link them. They share enough common ground that they can coexist. Only just parallel enough that tearing open the fabric between them and bridging the gap will not cause them to collapse or, at worst, one will not swallow the other in an effort to correct the abnormalities.

"Universes, my dear, are almost like living entities of their own," she explains, no doubt catching the increasingly confused look on my face. "They grow and expand. Shifting and changing at will. They're vast and complex and hold their own shape by sheer force of will. Mess with one too much and they collapse, unable to accept the sudden anomalies. Learn the complexity of one though—learn how it grows, how it flows, how it lives—and you can do almost anything.

"It's how Minerva can do all this," she says, hand going out to encompass the whole room. "How she can use machines to calculate when you will stumble upon her messages. How she can shuffle through 'time' and reveal them to you. All while keeping some semblance of order about it.

"She knows this universe," Juno says, the begrudging respect back in her eyes. "She destroyed the preconceived laws of it, tore them to shreds, and built them again. She studied and watch and learned. Unrestricted by all the studies done before her and all the 'laws' set in place, she set out to learn this Universe from scratch. And, with the help of her machines, she did.

"She found the beat of our Universe and learned it," Juno mutters, there is no sarcasm in her words. There is only something that can vaguely be considered awe, giving respect where it is due. "You'll be surprised with all that you can accomplish when you do not allow your human 'laws' of physics to restrain you.

"It's how we created you," she says, gaze coming back to me as she does. "Without your laws of nature to restrict us, we forced your primate ancestors to evolve. What would take millions of years, we did in days. We made you and when you turned out to be too difficult to control, we changed you.

"We molded you to fit what we needed," she sneers, the disgusted look back on her face as she sweeps her gaze over me. "Enslaved you to the whims of those who held a Piece of Eden. Without your human laws, we created, we destroyed. We became gods. The very gods you worshiped even after the Solar Flare doomed us to extinction. And, until you learn you shake off your human shackles, you will always be destined to be under our control. In this universe, in yours, or in the next, you will always be ours.

"And, for all of her benevolence, Minerva acts on this," Juno says, sneer melting away. "Too used to having humans under her thumb, controlling them and enslaving them, she forgets that we did not create you. That, in your universe, we did not exist as we did here, as the creators of your species. That you're not used to being controlled and manipulated as we see fit. It flounders her whenever you rebel, confuses her so much she has no idea how to proceed.

"There is no engraved need for you to please us, after all. You weren't wired for it, so you can easily brush our demands aside and, without the apple to try and force you, Minerva has no idea how to get you to do what she needs," Juno explains and it makes sense. Minerva's lack of direction must be for a reason after all. "So, she chose the next best thing. She ensnared your heart with something she knew you could not resist."

Altaïr.

It was always Altaïr.

"Minerva is nothing if not manipulative," Juno says, tone calm, matter of fact. There is no sneer or mocking in her tone as she says it. "The Great Athena, the Goddess of Strategy, she planned this from the beginning. When she heard your heart's call, she sent him to you with every intention of ripping him away. She has to break you in somehow, after all."

"What good is a servant who won't do as she's told, after all?" she coos, words deceptively sweet. "And now she has you in her trap. Ready and willing to bend to her will. You poor thing," she whispers, gaze turning to stare out the window. "You don't even know how doomed you are. So, I'll do you one kindness and tell you this:

"Eden and all its pieces are your only salvation. Do not let them slip from your grasp."

She goes silent then. Her smile falls along with all its cruelty and hate as she looks up, up towards the moon and the stars. With the cruel smile gone, she looks younger, lost, and achingly beautiful.

Like the goddess she was named after.

"Let me tell you a story," she says after a long pause, voice still just a whisper as the bedroom melts away. As the dream shifts and we're no longer on the bed. "About a girl who lost it all to the vermin she helped create."

Instead, we're on the sand, the moon still high above, and the waves lapping gently against our feet. The water is warm against my skin. It's nowhere near as icy as it should be, even as the cold sea-winds whip around us, playing with the long strands of her hair.

She tells me her story then. As the waves lap at our feet and the moon shine down on us she tells me about her father.

Saturn.

The god of Agriculture, Liberation, and Wealth.

"He was the first one I lost. Killed in his own home, with his own weapon. The Scythe of Eden," she whispers, gaze still on the moon as she does. "They caught us off guard. Defenseless. There was nothing we could do, no way we could save him. The killer hit his mark, right through his head, before we even knew what was happening. Do you know what it does to you? To see your father killed before your very eyes and knowing there was nothing you could do to stop it?"

I don't. Of course, I don't. My world isn't filled with violence and war and death and destruction like theirs is. Whatever violence finds me it's minuscule. Unimportant and nearly nonexistent when compares to theirs. My pain is nothing compared to theirs.

"That's a silly question, isn't it?" she asks painfully amused smile coming onto her lips as she chuckles. It's a broken thing, filled with more pain and grief than amusement but it still sounds like bells on the wind. soft and sweet. "Your father is still alive. All while mine is gone and forgotten. Assassinated by the very creatures he thought might one day be his equal.

"That was the day," she continues, smile melting away and leaving only pain and grief behind. Though that shifts not too long after to reveal only burning rage. "That was the day I knew you would destroy everything. The Isu, the world, yourselves. So, on the day my father was stolen for me, I swore to would save every single one of you from yourselves."

The snarl on her face promise that her methods won't be gentle. That her saving humanity has nothing to do with kindness or compassion and everything to do with stopping an invasive species from spreading. Because that's what we are to her, to them, to the Isu. We're nothing but genetically engineered mice that got away and are now slowly destroying the world.

"I lost my husband next," she says, rage melting back to grief and pain as she turns to look over the sea. "My sweet Aita, who gave his life to save us—humans and Isu alike. He—"

She cuts off suddenly, stopping midsentence and head whipping around to look over her shoulder. I follow her gaze and find nothing but the Venice Shoreline. All dark buildings, glowing torches, and empty streets. But she sees something else, I know she does when she curses.

"We will have to finish this story another time," she says suddenly, staring off towards something only she can see as the water turning icy cold. It bites at my toes, stinging, but I can't move. I can only stand where she wants me, ankle-deep in freezing water even as the world shifts again. "Seems I've kept you for too long. Minerva's calling."

She fades, her light dimming until there's nothing left, but the biting cold never leaves. The beach shifts away, taking the moon and the stars with it. In its place familiar buildings rise, the city is rebuilt. The very one that will burn and crumble under the onslaught of flames.

Except, this time I'm among them. The buildings tower high, long and lean. I'm not alone either, the ghost of people bustle about, shadowy and translucent as they go. High above, the sun shines brightly, bathing the city in its rays that only grow brighter.

Hotter.

No!

My yell never comes out. It gets stuck in my throat, choking and suffocating as the flames reach us.

They swallow the city instantly, cracking the concrete streets and melting glass windows. Still, the ghostly remains of screams reach me before the heat does. They echo, coming from everywhere and surrounding me before even the fire does.

I don't know when my own scream joins them. Probably before my knees buckle, sending me crashing onto the ground, and well before my skin sizzles and bubbles. Hot and searing, it melts away too quickly, peeling off almost as soon as the fire licks at it. It stands no chance, offers no protection, as the world cracks and burns.

"Jen!"

With great, trembling groans, the towering buildings fall. They shake the earth, further cracking the streets as they crash down. Dust and debris join the ash and smoke in the air, suffocating and burning with each inhale. Its scorches my throat on the way down, damaging everything in its wake with its heat. It's like trying to breathe in fire.

"Jen, it's okay."

But nothing is worse than the screams. Loud and piercing, they come from everywhere. From under rubble and flames and from the dying corpses that fall in defeat. From mothers carrying babies and lovers holding on to each other as the flames consume them. They all fall with piercing dying screams and become nothing more than ash.

"Jennifer! Wake up, damnit."

The ringing in my ears registers before the stinging pain in my cheek. The burning world falls away as I open my eyes, the screams fading away with one last echoing cry. Arms envelop me before I even fully register that I'm back in Leonardo's guest room.

"Ken."

His name comes out as a weak and hoarse cry, my throat throbbing fiercely as it does. Ken's arms tighten around me, drawing me into his chest until I'm held firmly in his lap. I cling back to him, burying my hands into the loose fabric of his shirt and gasping deep inhales of the blissfully cool air.

"Jesus, Jen," he whispers, the relief in his words turning his voice thick. The last of the panic leaves him after a few deep inhales. With one last shuttering breath he whispers, "You wouldn't stop screaming. Why wouldn't you stop?"

We're on the bed, the sheets a crumpled mess on the floor where they've been thrown. Ezio stands beside us, a worried look in his eyes and concern pulling his lips into a deep frown. Leonardo stays by the door, unsure but no less concerned.

"Sorry, sorry," I croak out, clearing my throat painfully. A cup of water is pressed against my lips from somewhere and I drink it greedily. It's refreshing, cool, soothing, and the best tasting water I've ever had. Especially after so much fire. "Nightmare."

"That was some nightmare," Ezio muses as he takes the empty cup away. He passes it to Leonardo, who scurries away as soon as he does. "What happened, little one?"

"The Isu," I cough out, the soothing relief of the water gone almost as soon as I stop drinking. My throat feels as cracked as my voice sounds. The words come out hoarse and almost too low to make out. "Fire, there was fire everywhere."

"They showed you more burning worlds?" Ken asks as he finally pulls back. He loosens his arms enough to lean back and look me over. Just his words are enough to bring back the fire and the smoke and the screams.

"No," I tell him, trying my hardest to forget the smell of burning flesh as I bury myself back in his arms. I take deep mouthfuls of crisp, smoke-free air as I do. "They burnt me."

"Who did," Ezio growls, snarl tearing from his lips as he does. The quiet snick-snick of both his blades releasing eases something deep inside me. As if by instinct, it relaxes me, lulls me into feelings of security more than Ken's arms ever could.

That's the sound of protection.

Altaïr.

My heart both clenches and races, each beat painful as the yearning hits me full force. Because that sound usually comes from him. Always quick to draw, and even quicker to strike, I've heard that sound thousands of times while traveling with him.

It's almost a reflex for him, honestly. A reassurance that his blade is functioning properly, he'd drawn it even when we were alone. Fidgeting almost or as a way to past the time. And to hear it now, when I'm shaken beyond belief, both eases my nerves and makes my heart yearn.

Where are you?

"Jen?" Ken calls, cautious even as he wraps his arms back around me. He holds me against his chest, grip both firm and tight as I begin to shake. Surprisingly, no tears come, though. "Who burnt you?"

"Juno," I rasp just as Leonardo appears again. He moves towards the bed, cup in hand. He's also carrying a jug. One filled with water that he pours into the cup before holding it out for me. I take it with shaky hands, only just making myself release Ken's shirt to do it.

"Juno? But Juno's one of the three so she's a good guy, right?"

I gulp down the water, letting it soothe my still aching throat. It's gone too soon. Leonardo refills it with a small, worried smile. Though this time I make sure to take small sips as I can feel my stomach begin to get uncomfortably full.

"She is, at least I thought she was. I'm honestly not too sure anymore."

My words come out in starts and stops. More than once I have to clear my throat and each time is as painful as the last. By the time I finish my short sentence, my throat is as dry as when I first woke up and my cup is once again empty.

"Why would she want to harm you?

"Maybe we should save the question for later," Leonardo cuts in, catching my grimace when I have to clear my throat yet again. He places the jug of water down on the bedside table, well within reach, along with my now empty cup. "I may not be a doctor, but all that screaming could not have been good for your throat. I think questions can wait until tomorrow morning, yes?"

With that, he attempts to coax Ezio from the room, but when Ezio shakes his head, he bids us goodnight instead. I stay in Ken's arms even when Ezio sprawls out on the bed next to us. Though, soon, Ken shifts us. He leans back, dragging me with him as he sprawls out beside Ezio.

I end up half on top of him, head pillowed on his chest, but make no effort to move. I'm still shaking, though they're nothing more than small tremors, Ken doesn't let me go. And I'm grateful for it. As we settle into bed and the quiet descends, I savor the warmth of his arms even if they're not the arms I wish for.

Ezio doesn't stay still for long. After Ken and I settle on the bed, he shifts. Slipping an arm under Ken's head he curls around us, offering an extra layer of protection from the demons only I can see. One I desperately need as the tremors don't stop when I close my eyes and see only fire.

Fire and ash and red, red, red.

Tossing his other arm over Ken, Ezio grips my hand where it's still clutching tightly onto Ken's shirt. His big hand swallows my smaller one instantly, relaxing me further as his warmth bleeds into me, soothing me enough that the fire doesn't seem that close.

We drift off like that. Ken holding me to his chest, my head pillowed on him and Ezio curled around both of us.