Oh wow. Its been over a year since I last updated, but I kinda lost my touch with writing so sorry about that guys! Anyways, I am now DONE high school, and have a little bit more time to do some writing, and lately have found some sources of inspiration to go along with an amazingly planned storyline courtesy of yours truly and my good friend Evilgoodguy (CHECK HIM OUT ON FF).

Also, me and him (okay mostly him) have begun a new Assassin's Creed RP forum, and are looking for some new members to join our small community of AC writers, feel free to check it out and sign up! . Just remove the brackets on the dots and you're good to go!

Anyways, for those of you who are actually still reading this, thank you! (and any newcomers!) I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own Ubisoft stuff.

November 16th 1996, 13:09 hrs

Location: Guelph, Ontario

"Grandma?"

"Hm?"

"What was Grandpa like?"

"He was one of the bravest men I have ever known, he didn't have a bad bone in his body."

"Daddy says his last name was Cassel... why is Daddy's last name not Cassel?"

September 8th 2012, 0:15 hrs

Location: Guelph, Ontario

"Nothing looks out of the ordinary here. There's some tracks and the grass indents look like there's been movements but its probably just animals," Tom whispered, looking through the scope of his sniper rifle. Alex lay prone beside him, surveying the surroundings with a pair of low-light enhanced binoculars. After taking Schmidt, Erudito told Alex and his team to head up north to the Farm, which was apparently under attack. Apparently. Alex still wasn't sure how much they could trust this Erudito collective; for all they knew Erudito was a Templar initiative.

"Alex, are you sure we can even trust these guys? They could be Templars for all we know."

"I know Tom. But they had saved my life, as well as delivering us Schmidt."

Otto Schmidt, head of Lineage Discovery and Acquisition. The man was resilient to say the least. Laurel had been interrogating him for the past week, for hours at a time, torturing him just enough to be on the brink of consciousness and still feel pain, but he still hadn't said a word. They even had to force him to eat, but still Laurel insisted she could break him.

"Besides, we need a safe house to stock up on supplies and weapons."

"I guess. Somethings obviously been through here, we'll have to check the mines before we go ahead. Ready?"

The moon shone down on them, as Alex and Tom lay in a heavily forested area just outside the Farm. The night sky was dotted with stars, devoid of any clouds or precipitation. Perfect for infiltration.

"Just a sec, you know Abstergo. They'll never reveal themselves until absolutely necessary. Keep looking out. I'll check," Alex replied after a few minutes, "Laurel, how's Mr. Schmidt doing?"

"The son of a bitch still won't spill," Laurel replied, via Bluetooth. "I'm starting to regret volunteering for interrogation... Hey, Alex you wanna give it a go?"

Alex ignored her, closing his eyes and listening for any unusual sounds or movements. He concentrated for a moment, the opened his eyes, the whole world turning a bluish grey and Tom turning a light blue colour. Alex scanned the plains that surrounded the place that he had once called home.

"Or ignore me, that's cool too." Laurel sighed, "Prick."

Tom chuckled, still looking through the scope of his rifle, as Alex grunted, "Shut up, I'm trying to concentrate." Using Eagle Sense was sapping, feeling much like how a sprinter feels after a run, gradually becoming worse and worse. Over the years Alex had built up a tolerance, but using his 'powers' for too long was dangerous and took a lot of concentration.

The yellow footprints indicating the correct path to take to the Farm were still there, as well as the mines that lay within the ground protecting the Assassin hideout. "The mines are undetonated," Alex whispered still looking ahead. Tom said nothing, as an owl hooted in the distance.

"That's a good sign isn't it? Means the Templar's haven't been through yet," Tom replied a minute later.

"Or they already know where to go." Alex continued looking for any red silhouettes. There were none. It seemed like the coast was clear.

"Alright, lets pack up and move ahead." Alex said, in a normal voice, turning off his Eagle Sense. He got up and grabbed his carbine, which was laying beside him. "Laurel, tie him up, you can finish off once we're safe. Once we're in I'll open the garage, and you can get some real tools inside. Tom, let's move."

Alex heard a stifled, yet excited "Yes!" from Laurel as Tom picked up his rifle and got up carefully following him through the bushes.

"Remember the first time you did this? Seems like yesterday." Tom laughed, "Barely able to handle Eagle Sense, but you still made it here. Now look at you, mate. Not even using your abilities to walk your way through the minefield."

Alex smiled a bit, hopping from each safe spot to the next. "It really does seem like yesterday," Alex thought, as he reached the farmhouse. "Oh how things have changed..." Memories of high school flashed before his eyes. The sunny days outside, playing soccer with friends, lunch with Katie. Then coming home to his mother and father, who would somehow always know exactly what he was craving. Alex found himself longing for the past. The life before all of this madness.

He shook his head. There would be time to reminisce later. He reached for the panel which hid the keypad to enter the Farm, which first scanned his retina with a quiet "beep".

Alex then typed the code into the keypad, the door hissing as it opened. It was pitch black inside, with no sign of movement anywhere.

Alex turned back to Tom, putting a finger to his mouth telling him to be quiet. He pulled up his gun, turning on the light and looking through the target and slowly walked in the Farm. The lobby looked just as it was when he last left, computers everywhere and the massive centralized screen on the far wall facing the door. The only difference now is that it seemed deserted, a thin layer of dust covering all the screens and cobwebs beginning to form along the edges.

"Looks like everyone left," Tom said, lowering his gun, "Alex, I told you we were wasting our-!" Tom was suddenly interrupted by the doors shutting behind them and locking with an electronic click. Both Alex and Tom raised their guns quickly, as well as unsheathing their hidden blades.

They went back to back instantaneously, covering each other's blind spots, and optimizing their chance of finding whoever locked the door. "Of course you had to say it was deserted," Alex whispered. Years of training and practice had given him and his partner the ability and reaction time that could potentially save their lives.

There was an eerie silence, save for their breaths.

"Come on Tom, you of all people should know looks can be deceiving," yelled a familiar voice, one that Alex had not heard in many years. "But nevertheless, good form you two. Alex, you're lacking on reaction time, but its probably just because you're cold."

"Dad?" Alex asked, looking around for the source of the voice.

A tall shadow fell down from the rafters and landed in front of them with a resounding thud, right into the light of Alex's gun. The muscular man had his hood up, embroidered with a white-red-white combination of colours, but a pointed nose could clearly be seen, as well as slightly slanted Asian eyes. Alex looked carefully as the figure began to walk towards him. He could now see the man's bushy eyebrows and tanned skin as he raised his hands, lifting his hood down to reveal the tired, but smiling face of Richard Lee.

"Dad!" Alex yelled, letting his gun hang by his shoulder and rushing forward to embrace his father.

"Alexander." Memories of his childhood flooded him as he came into his father's warm embrace.

"Woah, Mr. Lee!" Laurel shouted enthusiastically, "Dude, it's been forever!" Alex relayed the message to his father who chuckled, "Good to hear from you too Laurel, it's been a while."

"Where's everyone else? And what in God's name are you doing here? Aren't we under Protocol-Seven?" Alex asked, Tom awkwardly tapping his feet behind him.

Another shadow dropped down from the rafters, this one a little shorter than Richard, but still one of a grown man. He had a small bag draped over his shoulders, which in turn lay right beside a medium sized assault rifle. He walked towards them and removed his blue-red-white striped hood to reveal Walker Abbott, Alex's former mentor. "Everyone else is gone, they've followed Protocol-Seven." His face looked more tired than usual, with large bags under his eyes and far more grey hair than before.

"Figured that out sir, but what about you guys?" Tom asked, walking up and shaking Abbott's hand, "Where's your team and why are you still here?"

"Yeah, Dad. Aren't you supposed to be in Cuba?"

"Close the doors," Walker ordered, "Tell Laurel to park the van and bring Mr. Schmidt, we have a lot to discuss in very little time." He turned, stifling a cough, and began to walk towards the basement stairs, leaving Alex and Tom gaping.

"H-how did you know we had him?" Alex asked his father, as they followed Walker down the stairs.

"Erudito, Alexander." Richard looked at his son with a twinkle in his eye and a slight smile, as if he knew something that Alex didn't. "Come on, hurry."

"The archives haven't changed in the slightest," Tom said in awe, as they walked into A-201, the 20th century archives. The archive rooms were labeled with an "A", with its first two numbers being its century number and the third representing which room it was of the century. This was the first of seven 20th century archive rooms. This took Alex years to figure out.

"Yeah Tom, that's why they're called archives," Alex laughed, turning on the light to the dusty, file ridden room. Tom was right of course, the archives hadn't changed, from the beige coloured file folders lined upon one another, row by row, to the outdated computers in the back right corner, to the flickering light bulbs on the ceiling.

"You would think the Rueben would've replaced the bloody computers by now. These things are older than Walker," Tom hit the top of one of the monitors, with a resounding clunk. The layer of dust sprawled up into the air, causing Tom to cough and swear under his breath, waving his hand to clear the dust.

"Boys, over here," Walker said, gesturing to the table at the back left corner. "We don't have much time and we have much to talk about." Alex saw his father opening the door for Laurel, who was escorting a handcuffed and gagged Schmidt out of the corner of his eye, as he and Tom walked over to the table and sat down.

"Alright, can someone tell me what the hell is going on? I thought we were sent here because there was an attack, and then Alex tells me his Dad and Boss are here. I don't like having to bring our hostage in, I'd prefer Doc. Ock here to stay in the van," Laurel stated. She tied the Templar to the chair, and sat down beside Alex.

"We were contacted by Erudito, who told us to meet you here. They let us know about what exactly the Templars are planning, and its not pretty," Richard said, sitting down on the other side of Alex. "Walker's right, we don't have much time, and there's a lot to explain. You guys have a new mission. Walker?"

Walker looked over to Alex's father seemingly about to speak, but coughed loudly instead. Richard just continued to stare at Walker. There was an uncomfortable silence, with his segway hanging in the air for a few moments until Walker began to speak.

"Now, we all know the history of our Order-!"

"-Wait. Should we really be talking with him around?" Alex asked, pointing to Schmidt who all of a sudden was rather full of energy, sitting up straight listening intensely."

Laurel sighed, calmly got up and proceeded to punch Schmidt in the face. "Better?" she asked with a smile.

"Better."

"Alright, back on track guys. Now, we all know the history of our Order. We formed thousands of years ago from Adam and Eve, the first humans to escape Those Who Came Before. Of course we we're called Assassins then, but they held the same principles as we do today." He reached into his bag and pulled out a tablet and turned it on revealing a series of pictures. He swiped left, focusing on the first.

The first was a golden orb, with many lines which, if the picture wasn't static, would be pulsing.

"This is one of the artifacts recovered, called an Apple of Eden. Now, one of these, much like every other "Piece of Eden" can be controlled only by someone who has First Civilization DNA, such as you and your father, "he began, gesturing at Alex and Richard. "People like you possess certain ESP's, extra-sensory perceptions, or in layman's terms, powers. Alex, you and your Dad have your Eagle Sense, as did Desmond Miles, you know (or rather) know of him. But there's different types as well. I've heard of a woman who can detect anyone who focuses on them, and even a man who can see the future through his descendants."

"See the future? You guys never told me that one," Laurel exclaimed, "My life has turned into a fucking comic book." Tom buried his hands in his face stifling a laugh and shaking his head, while Alex just glared at his best friends.

But Walker smiled. "Of course you guys already know about the existence of these artifacts and the existence of these powers, some more than others. And we're not here to talk about the Apple, or whatever superpowers people may or may not have."

He swiped the tablet's screen to the left and revealed the next picture. It was a small green-ish disk, but had the same pulsing lines like the Apple had.

"This is the Disk of Eden. Another Piece of Eden from the First Civilization. Alex, this particular artifact belonged to your family, more particularly your Grandfather, Adam Cassel."

"Belonged, sir?" Alex asked. That explains why I've never heard of it, he thought.

"Belonged." he replied, "It was taken from him by the Templars, who then experimented on it in the late 1940's. I was on that team, until I defected, stole the disk and hid it up north." Alex gaped at his Mentor. Of course he had known that Walker was a former Templar, he had told him that the second day he had arrived. What astounded him was the year gap. His team seemed equally confused as well.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you were on an experimental team in the NINETEEN FUCKING FORTIES?" Tom yelled, "How on God's good earth are you not 100 years old?"

Walker looked sadly at Tom, then the rest of the team. Alex's father was looking at the table, which all of a sudden seemed very interesting to him, as Walker replied, "Its the Disk, Tom."

"So...?" Tom questioned, but Alex already figured it out. All this talk about the powers, and the Pieces of Eden had to lead somewhere, it had to connect somehow to this Disk. This is what Walker was leading up to.

"The Disk, Tom. The Disk has the power to turn back time."

I'll hopefully be back soon, if its months before another update don't worry. I'll always find my footing back on this story, I love it too much to abandon it forever, even if it takes me 10 years to finish.

Please leave a review, even if you didn't like it, I appreciate the feedback. Even just a smiley face (or a frowny one) will do, I'd like to know what you guys think so I can improve!

Thanks so much for sticking to this:

~chinqs