Disclaimer: Characters/factions/items that were not mentioned in any Halo and Assassin's Creed franchise (e.g Arnold-124) belong to me. I do not own any characters/factions/items that do belong to the Halo franchise (e.g Master Chief Spartan-117, Desmond Miles).
Chapter 5: Pieces, Part I
The lady in the white coat was standing before me.
Was there sorrow? Regret? Shame? Guilt? Anything?
I could see none in her eyes. Though, I'm sure she could see none in mine either.
Why should there be though? What was there to feel guilty about?
I looked down, on my hands. They felt warm, sticky and covered in red. Like paint.
"Take him to the labs." She ordered the two men holding me. "Deja," she said to the small blue lady on the pedestal, "prepare the procedures for selective neural paralysis." Then she looked at me. "We may need to do so for this one."
Four points of my arms were kept in a vice grip. I struggled but was no match for the two brutes. I was meant for speed and agility and not complete strength. They lifted me and dragged me off through the cold automatic doors of the room.
At a corner of the room was a man.
A dead man. In a pool of blood. A knife stuck out of his throat. Deep markings that only I knew of were covered by the steady stream of blood. Markings from the chain I choked him with. A chain that held a cross, hanging around his neck.
His name was Frederick Robertson. He was an Admiral of the UNSC Navy.
He was a Templar.
How do I know this? I don't.
But I just remembered it.