The soft touch of your given blanket caresses your skin as you turn effortlessly in bed. Your eyes are still closed, your mind is still comforted by the sweet sound of nothing; your body eases and your breathing slowly decreases its pace in relaxation. You feel like you could stay like this forever — you feel like you want to stay like this forever... until reality hits you with an alarm that pierced your ears to its wake up call.
"Ugh..." you groan, rolling over and hitting the off-button.
All was going well until that horrid noise alerted your peaceful-self to not fall into too much of a relaxing state, because deep down, you knew that it wasn't going to last. At least now you could log back into the Animus and see if Remilio was alright — you hoped to God he was! Although you knew that you had to come to terms with the fact that you didn't exist in the year 1530 and that Remi was already dead in the 'real world,' you still needed to know if he was okay and that you weren't the reason for his death... his early death that is.
Just at that moment, Dr. Sullivan walked into your room. You turned yourself to face him as you heard the doors to your room slide open, seeing him strut in like he owned the place — the fact was, that he did own the place, and somehow it bothered you a lot. Maybe it was the way Sullivan's very tall yet slim body held his long white cloak — like the type a crazy scientist would wear — upon his scrawny shoulders; or maybe it was the way his thick, black and round glasses balanced on the crook of his pointy nose — it could have been many things that gave you an uneasy vibe.
"(Y/N), it is time. The Animus is being set up this very moment," he informs you, placing his hands neatly behind his back.
You nod in response as you manoeuvre yourself and stand from the edge of your assigned bed. You noticed the pierced holes on your upper arm that seemed to drill through your veins as you stand — the Animus required contact with your blood in order for it to work and collect your DNA. It was a horrible sight to see, if you were being honest with yourself. You hated how the Animus puncture wounds began surrounding the area with red, gashed skin; it made you feel like you were nothing other than a lab rat.
"Off we go then," Dr. Sullivan speaks, turning his back to you and leaving your room.
You sigh lightly, not wanting them to hear the hint of pain within your breath as you follow along behind him into the laboratory.
The group of assistants surrounded the Animus, blocking it from your view. But as soon as you and Sullivan made an appearance, the assistants gave a pathway to you and the machine; just the sight of the Animus made your knees feel slightly weak. But it wasn't like you could just give up and leave; Dr. Sullivan wouldn't allow it — and by the sounds of it, he was paying your father good money to have you in his presence.
'My father,' you think to yourself in despise; you just couldn't get over the fact that your own father gave you up for money — hell, nobody would be able to forgive and forget something like that!
The assistants surrounded you as you sat on the Animus, positioning yourself to lie down. The butterflies in your stomach made you feel like you were going to hurl, but for some reason, the sight of Luca — one of the laboratory assistants — made you feel slightly calmer. The reason wasn't clear, but you somehow knew that you could trust him out of all people; he seemed like a genuine guy.
"Ready?" Dr. Sullivan questions, folding his arms impatiently; he so badly wanted the Apple — but why?
You could have asked, but you knew to just keep quiet. Otherwise, who knows what would happen to you; Sullivan seemed very agitated whenever someone mentioned the Apple of Eden and you knew it was because he didn't have it in his possession. For some odd and unknown reason, Dr. Sullivan reminded you of 'Master Hugo' from 1530 — the Templar Boss.
"Um..." you pause, hesitating too much to ask.
"What is it?" Sullivan asks, raising an angry eyebrow at you — he was probably annoyed that you stalled the Animus process.
"Could I ask a quick question, about the Assassins?" You ask politely.
"Of course. But make it quick," he rushes you.
"Who is Ezio Auditore da Firenze?" You remember perfectly — a name like that could never be forgotten.
As soon as the name escaped your lips, Dr. Sullivan and all of his assistants stopped what they were doing to glare at you. Was his name really that bad to speak of?
"That Assassin was a pain in the ass," Dr. Sullivan muttered, almost spitting at you. "He did nothing but cause the Templars trouble. He killed an entire army of the great Templar Leader, Cesare Borgia and Cesare Borgia himself in 1507. His name brings hatred upon us."
"Oh..." you mumble, not wanting to fire up anymore rage from the man.
"Why do you ask?" He questions you.
"Federico had mentioned his name; they are family," you innocently reply.
"Federico?" He again, questions you. "Who is this Federico?"
"It's... Remilio's brother Sir," you tell him.
"Interesting," he speaks mainly to himself, walking away slowly whilst tapping a finger on the end of his long chin.
You wanted to ask what was so interesting about the fact that Remi had a brother — anyone could have a brother, right?
Despite Dr. Sullivan not returning to your side to watch as you get transferred back to the year 1530, the assistants link you to the machine. You take a long, deep breath before closing your eyes and letting yourself practically pixel into a different century.
*Logging into the Animus...*
All of a sudden, you forcefully sit up with a gasp in a state of panic as you clench one of your fists and hold your chest with the other, feeling your racing and thumping heart pounding against your rib cage. As you allow yourself to swallow and catch your breath, you look around and notice that you were sat in the middle of a worn-out path. Your eyes follow the partial road which led your sight to the Colosseum, making you realise that the spot you were sat in was the same spot that the Animus sent you to the first time... only, you were completely nude that time.
Immediately, you glance down at your body in desperate need and hope to be clothed — thankfully, you were wearing the dress that Federico had given you the time before; the machine must code in everything to do. In a heavy sigh of relief, you stand up before anyone could notice you just 'casually' sat on a pathway; you were hoping that your memory was good, because you were going to need to remember where the Assassin's Guild was in order to find Remilio again.
Along your trails, you observe the beautiful scenery of Rome. The way the houses were built purely out of rubble and brick; the way the paths were made from Roman Stone and were mostly wearing away due to being so old; the way the citizens dressed in bright colours — the women wearing dresses and the men wearing tights which categorised into the Renaissance era; everything you recognised and/or noticed was absolutely breathtaking. If you were completely honest, you enjoyed roaming around the City of Rome without a care in the world and without a phone, a laptop in a bag, a TV in the store windows, and without any type of technology whatsoever. You actually preferred the Renaissance period in history more than any other generation mainly because of this reason.
It didn't take you any longer than twenty-minutes to reach your destination. You hesitated, but proceeded to knock lightly on the door to the Assassin's Guild; from outside, you could see that the building was made to look like an inn, but you wasn't too sure as you wasn't able to read the sign above of the door — Italian was difficult to learn.
At that very moment, the door to the Guild opened and behind it was a woman — she looked very familiar to you; Cordelia, was it?
"Buonasera (Good Evening) Madonna. Welcome to the Elegante Locanda di Roma (Elegant Inn of Rome)."
It was called the Elegant Inn of Rome due to it also being a Brothel for all of Roma's citizens — particularly the men. But, having no idea what Cordelia had just said, you decide to play along like you knew by nodding your head and smiling brightly.
"Thank you," you say, showing your pearly whites. "Could I speak with Remilio please?"
"Remilio?" She questions, raising an eyebrow. "What do you want with him?"
"It's... personal, I guess. I was here yesterday," you inform her.
"Ah... Si! Come in, come in amore (love)," she eagerly grasps your forearm and drags you inside the Guild, shutting the door behind you. "Federico! Your Signora is here!" She calls out.
"Wait, I wanted to speak with Rem-" before you could finish, Federico steps into the main room of the Guild and gasps when he sees you.
"(Y/N)!" He exclaims, running towards you with open arms before wrapping them around you and squeezing you tightly. "I thought you had been injured!"
"Injured?" You ask, confused.
'Oh no. If Federico thinks that I was injured, that could mean Remilio was injured too! But how badly?' You think to yourself worriedly.
"Si! You disappeared last night," he says, pulling back from the hug to get a good look at your face for any resemblance of even the smallest of grazes. "Remilio arrived back and-"
"Is he alright?!" You jump in, a tone of panic within your voice.
"He's... fine?" He replies in a form of an almost question. "Why do you ask?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but before any words could escape your lips, a different voice was heard from the other side of the room near Remilio's assigned accommodation.
"Because she left me," Remilio bluntly states out in the open — he didn't seem too happy about it. "She interrupted my mission, ruined my plan and then left."
"It wasn't like that," you quickly regret speaking out-loud.
"Oh yeah? Then what was it like traditore, (traitor)?" He questions, stepping out from his doorway and towards you with his arms crossed.
"I-It's uh... complicated," you fall into a quiet mumble.
"Exactly," Remilio mutters, holding back his anger.
"Leave her alone Remi," Federico sticks up for you. "She probably isn't used to the type of missions we carry out."
"Zitto Federico (Shut up Federico)," Remi scowls at him.
"Perché devi essere sempre così scortese? (Why do you always have to be so rude?)" Federico questions his brother.
"Boys, please don't start arguing," Cordelia sighs before frustratingly rubbing between her brows in distress — this must happen a lot.
"Perché devi sempre essere per le ragazze? (Why do you always have to be for the girls?). Sticking up for them doesn't grant you sesso (sex) like you usually want does it," Remilio criticises Federico as the two narrow their glares at each other.
You stand there silently with a blank expression as you hadn't a clue what the boys were saying. All you knew, was that they were angry with one another and were arguing; you also knew to just stay away and keep out of it — especially if it's with Remilio. If you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you were pretty scared of the young Assassin. Who wouldn't be? Besides, he had a bit of a temper.
"Ragazzi, basta! (Boys, enough!)," you hear from behind, catching everybody's attention.
As you turn around, you see a very pale yet beautiful woman. Her long, black hair was swirled in a tight bun whilst her slim yet fitted dress elegantly swayed as she walked towards the four of you. For some reason, you had a gut feeling that this woman was the mother of both Federico and Remilio, and you were right — she must have arrived back from her journey last night whilst you were back at Abstergo.
"I haven't been back for a full twenty-four hours yet, and you two are already starting fights," she scolded them before setting her dark-brown eyes upon you. "And who might this wonderful lady be?"
You looked behind you to see the 'wonderful lady' she was talking about, until you realised that there was nobody there and she was talking about you! You couldn't help but blush and let your cheeks glow a bright red in colour.
"Th-thank you Ma'am," you bow your head slightly to pay your respects. "My name is (Y/N)."
"Such an extraordinary name. Where did that originate from?" She asks you.
"Venice," Federico interrupted, informing Caterina (their mother), of your lie.
You quickly glanced up to Remilio — who seemed to be at a much taller height than you — to see if he had noticed. In fact, he did. He also glanced down at you the very moment you glanced up at him, because he knew the truth and that you weren't from Venice. However, despite knowing the truth and the fact that you ruined his mission before disappearing on him last night, he didn't try to make it awkward for you by blurting out the truth and getting you into a right pickle.
"A girl from Venezia without an accent," Caterina smiled lightly at you, seeming as though she already knew behind your blatant lie.
You smile back at her and giggle weakly to brush off any discomfort or guilt that you held so much of. She didn't call you out though, which you were thankful for.
Just at that moment, Cordelia stormed off in a somewhat angrily manner. You wasn't entirely sure why, but you had a feeling it had something to do with the attention that both brothers and their mother was giving you. To be fair, you had only been there for a minute or two and all eyes happened to fall on you; you understood why she might have been a little jealous.
"Remilio, dear. Why don't you take (Y/N) to your room and talk it out like adults?" Caterina suggested.
"Che cosa? Non c'è modo, (What? There is no way)." Remilio instantly disagreed.
"Remilio... why don't you take (Y/N) to your room and talk it out with the manners and respect I taught you, and treat this beautiful Signora as though you were the gentleman I brought you up to be? Hm?" Caterina spoke more firmly, as though she were telling him now instead of asking whilst raising a mean eyebrow at him.
Remi sighed heavily before nodding and listening to his mother — you knew that this would probably be the only time you'd ever see Remilio actually listen to someone.
"Si Madre (mother)," he says, letting a softer gaze fall onto you. "Seguimi," he says as he turns to walk away before remembering that you don't speak Italian.
He turns back to face you, only to be presented with your confusion displayed upon your face as you had no idea what he had just said to you — all you knew, was that he was talking to you due to eye-contact.
"Follow me," he translates his Italian to English before continuing the small walk to his room; you follow along behind him.