Not one of the best things I've ever written quality wise, but content wise its one of my favorites. Hope you guys enjoy! :D 7

Scotland - Abstergo Headquarters

'What's his name?'

'We don't know sir, he used to know it before he began spending way too much time in the Animus – he only answers to Teodor now. He won't answer any of your questions unless you call him such, sir. But his official Abstergo records say he's Subject 1305.'

Vidic was handed a file, which he flicked through as he was led down a corridor. He gave the subject's bio a brief scan before pulling out a headshot – a youth with bright eyes looked back at him in the form of a side and front profile.

'I can't abide subjects who chose The Officer as their persona,' Vidic said with a sniff, tucking the headshot back inside the file and handing it to an employee to his left, who took it and fell back without a word. He spared the man to his right a glance. 'Who did you choose?' He asked, seized with a sudden and fanciful curiosity.

'The Footpad, sir. I go where I'm needed, fast.'

Vidic appraised him – a Southern man with a lean figure, sharp black eyes and a questioning aura about him that was borderline suspicious – yes, here was a man who fit Lanz to the z.

'Good man,' He praised him. To his satisfaction, the agent barely acknowledged him. If there was one thing he couldn't abide more than Officers, it was fools who lapped up praise and tried to build something constructive on it. Vidic and Abstergo needed agents who had skill and damn well knew it – anyone else would be dealt with accordingly.

'Just through here, sir,' The agent said, opening a door and stepping back to allow Vidic to pass through it. Vidic walked through, and encountered two armed agents standing at the back of the room and a man sitting in a chair. He'd gelled his hair to the point where it was greasy to keep it flat and parted, and he stared at Vidic with hard beetle eyes which no longer had the spark that he'd had in his headshots. He'd straightened up as he walked in, and regarded everybody with a sneer.

God, give me the strength to deal with this moron Vidic pleaded silently, and then forced his mouth into a smile.

'Good afternoon, Teodor! And how was your journey?'

'Acceptable,' the subject sniffed. 'And the place where I find myself now even less so.'

'Well, you shan't be here for long, so never mind. Let's get cracking, shall we?' Vidic said, pulling out the chair opposite of the subject and getting comfortable. The subject's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. 'So my resources tell me that you remember something of interest to us.'

'That's right,' the subject said, running his fingers along the length of the table and inspecting dust that wasn't there. 'The man you seek – one of my brothers had the pleasure of meeting him personally. It was he who bought us the news of his presence.'

'I see. Who was this man?'

The subject looked sharply at Vidic. 'Why should I tell my brother's name to some old fool who could do anything with that information?'

Vidic had to briefly reason with the part of himself that wanted to reach over, grab this idiot by his greasy hair and slam his face onto the table, trying to convince it that its opinions were appreciated and that there'd be time for that later. Once it'd slunk off to the back of his mind, growling, he gave the subject a smile.

'Believe me, this old man knows what he's doing. He and the army he's in charge of,' he reminded the subject patiently. 'Now, his name?'

And there it was: that flicker of humanity behind the subject's eyes that didn't belong to Teodor or anybody else – it was the man he used to be, and he was afraid. Vidic's look addressed him directly – a fox's smile – I'm going to get you. And when I do, it'll hurt.

Unsurprisingly, Teodor took over again, straightening up and fixing Vidic with a narrowed stare.

'Valentino Virga. He posed as a member of the Assassin Brotherhood while relaying vital information to his brothers and sisters – we would have been truly lost without him.'

'When did you first hear about the man we're looking for?'

'March the twenty second, in a meeting our master had organised just to hear what information Valentino had bought us. He spoke of an object of sorcery – something that would change everything.'

'Describe it to us.'

'A box. A blue box, of wonder and majesty.'

At those words, Vidic wanted to jump out of his seat in glee. They had him! They knew a date!

'And what happened then?' Vidic tried to keep the excitement out of his voice.

And then: a strange look came over the subject's face. A frown, one of genuine bewilderment and upset. His hand worried his forehead as he shook his head slowly.

'I…I can't remember…'

Vidic was frozen in numb shock for a moment. And then anger: red hot anger. No. Not when they were so close.

That part of him he'd convinced into going away came back with force, and with a snarl, he grabbed the subject's hair and brought his head down onto the table – the crack it made the three guards start violently, and they shifted anxiously as the subject howled in pain and fear. Vidic leant over, pressing his mouth against the subject's ear.

'You can't remember?' He hissed. 'I need you to remember!'

'I can't!' The subject howled, very much a scared young man in a strange place with bad people and not at all Teodor. 'I can't remember! It's the Animus!'

'It's not the Animus, it's the people in it!' Vidic hissed. 'The deluded little maggots who let themselves get lost in it!' Vidic let go of his hair and sunk back in his seat. The subject raised his head then, and Vidic was disgusted by what he saw – a face streamed with tears and a nose that bubbled with snot and blood running down from a bruised forehead, and it began to scream.

'All of us who went in, we never came back!' He howled. He twisted in his seat to point at the armoured guards behind him. 'Both of these men, they completed their training as Verulo Gallo, that bold knight, a great leader! Now they never speak a word because he never spoke any at all!'

'That is enough!' The agent, the Footpad, stepped forward from his position and raising his hand, but the subject wasn't finished – he threw a finger at him.

'And you! You the devoted agent, quick on foot and sly like fox! But we, we of the Animus know why you are who you are! Your wife, she died, didn't she? Giving birth to your son! And where is your son now, hmm? Lost in a care system that doesn't care about him, and you regret it every single day of your life! You carry a picture of him in your wallet, in your pocket!' He motioned to the agent's pocket, and even the agent himself glanced towards it. 'Your memories, your thoughts, your feelings, they are all over the network! You are a ghost of the Animus – and we whisper your name as we kill, as we fight for our lives and our sanity! We cry for your wife and your son, just as you do inside when you realise that no matter how well performed task, no matter how many you kill, there will always be dull ache, just like there was inside of Lanz – right up until the day he was killed by EZIO AUDITORE DA FIRENZE THE PROPHET THE MESSENGER THE LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS – '

He stopped as one of the armoured guards stepped up swiftly behind him and, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder, pulled out a syringe and plugged it swiftly into his neck. A blissful look came over the subject's face, and he sighed in pleasure.

'Ah. The darkness, again.' he murmured happily. His head began to roll on his shoulders, and he fixed Vidic and the agent with an unfocused stare. 'Ezio Auditore Da Firenze. And the man they call the Doctor. Oh my.' He grinned. 'I…no…' he stared at the ceiling. 'Teodor, saw them together, in battle. Them and the blue box of majesty…' he fixed them with that unfocused stare again, and he giggled. 'Out of the two of them, he was not sure who was killer, and who was healer.' He sighed again. 'Blissful darkness…' he murmured. 'Back to the Animus. Back to the ghosts who cry for who they are no longer.'

And then he was gone – passed out onto the table. There was a moment of silence, before Vidic sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

'I have a headache now,' he murmured regretfully, and waved a hand in dismissal. 'Take him away. I want him in a coma, and plugged into an Animus. If he won't tell us, we'll take it by force.'

Without question, the two armoured guards placed one hand each in the subject's armpits and hefted him out of his chair with hardly any effort at all. The subject's head lolled softly on his chest as he was dragged from the room. The door was shut.

And then Vidic looked at the agent, who was still frozen to the spot. He seemed to be struggling, eyes moving madly and his mouth working uselessly.

'Agent.'

The agent turned slowly, trying to resume a normal expression. 'Sir?' he managed.

'These…feelings of yours. This problem. Does it get in the way of your duties, at all?'

'No, sir. I…I thoughtI had them quelled.'

'Hm,' Vidic considered him. 'Keep them bottled up. Ignore them.'

'Yes sir.'

Vidic pulled out his business card. 'When you return to America, give this to your superior. Welcome to the inside circle, Master Templar.'

The agent took it. In any normal case, anybody would be lost for words.

But, to Vidic's satisfaction, the agent had some.

'Thank you, sir.'

'I shall see you at the next meeting.'

And then Vidic walked out, content that things were as they should be.

We'll be seeing more from that agent.

:3

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