Altair wakes with a splitting headache and no idea where he is. Strangely, his first reaction is annoyance- he doesn't have time to deal with yet another mystery. He sighs and resigns himself to the fact that his life has apparently reached a level of absurdity where this barely even registers with him as a problem.
But seriously. Back home, Desmond's still readjusting to being alive, and the Kenways are still missing (Ezio's recent visit to Connor's head is reassuring, but Altair won't feel comfortable with the whole situation until they're back where they're supposed to be). On top of that, he's still coming in to work, still trying to figure out a way to tell Rebecca and Shaun that Desmond's still alive (he's half hoping it'll somehow work itself out without him, because that conversation probably won't be fun). And honestly- he's still not completely comfortable in this century. Sometimes he feels like nothing more than the world's strangest soccer mom, except instead of juggling kids and sports practices he has half a dozen extremely distant relatives scattered across multiple centuries and two universes.
Still grumbling to himself, Altair rubs his head and gets up to examine the room and figure out where he is. To be honest, there's not a lot of mystery. The Abstergo symbol is everywhere he looks, and the doors are locked when he tries them. So- templar cell somewhere. But whoever set this prison up has gone through a lot of trouble to keep it from looking like one. So, comparing this place to the one he remembers from when he first met Desmond, Altair decides he must still be at Abstergo Entertainment. That's the good news, because there's way less templars here than at most places Abstergo controls.
The bad news comes when he finally thinks to look at the computer waiting for him on the room's desk. Probably most people would have checked that first, which is why Melanie left a message there. It explains that, no, there's nothing seriously wrong but someone's been hacking secure computers over the last couple months, and until they figure out who's responsible, all sample seventeen employees will be detained on premises. He wonders if it's really about the hacking, or if it has something to do with Desmond's body getting stolen, too. No one's mentioned it in a few days, but that doesn't mean it's not still an issue. It just means that no one wants to talk about it.
Then again, there's no reason for them to specifically suspect anyone from the sample seventeen floor, so it probably is just the hacking. Altair curses John, loud and long, as he turns away from the computer. Then he curses himself, for being stupid enough to get drawn into this in the first place. He came into this job knowing why it's important, knowing he needs to keep a low profile. And instead, this happens.
His communicator crackles, and Altair seriously considers pulling it out of his ear and throwing it at the wall when he hears John's voice come through it. "Hey," he drawls. "Look who's awake." Altair doesn't answer, but John obviously doesn't mind filling the silence himself. "How do you like your new set up?" he asks. "Nice, isn't it? Probably better than wherever you're staying on your new guy paycheck, right?"
"At least I have the key to my place," Altair snaps.
"You sound a little angry," John says in a deadpan voice. "I think I can help with that."
"I don't think I need your help," Altair says.
"Yea, actually, you do," John says. "Melanie's down here now reviewing the security footage. You need me to get you out of your little prison and distract her while you erase the evidence of you hacking their computers."
"Fine." Altair finally manages to spit the word out. He's really had more than enough of John from IT, and whatever game he's playing here. This, he swears to himself, is the last time. Once those records are gone, and there's nothing to tie him to the man, he plans on never speaking to him again.
"Great." The door beeps and slides open. "Level three clearance. Have fun."
Altair spends the next half hour or so not having fun. Once John gets Melanie out of the way, there's still the actual hacking to do. Even with John's usual tools to help him out, it still takes a while. He's just managed to get the last of it off when he hears a noise from somewhere nearby, and tenses.
"You!"
He knows that tone. It's one he's heard many times before, the I've seen you before and I never wanted to see you again tone. Most assassins tend to hear it a lot, and Altair's already tensing up as he turns back around to see a giant, floating, glowing face in the air. "You," he says in the same tone, because the face is Juno's.
"You should be dead," Juno says, voice angry. "Hundreds and hundreds of years ago." Altair can't help but think that this is a little hypocritical, coming from a woman who spent millennia plotting her way back to life, but decides that right now isn't the time to say anything. "He was supposed to bring me a body!" Juno snarls. "Yours won't do. Dirty, corrupted-" she makes a noise that's half anger and half pure frustration, then vanishes.
"What's going on?!"
It's John again, and this time, Altair is more than willing to talk. The man has some questions to answer. "That's something I should be asking you," Altair says, but John isn't listening.
"She was supposed to be here, really here, and I was supposed to be the one to bring her back-"
The madness is so thick in his voice that Altair can't believe he never heard it there before. And suddenly he's angry, because he doesn't understand exactly what's going on here (honestly, he's given up trying to understand what any of the precursors have planned), but he thinks he understands enough. Juno and John are working together. Juno wants a new body, and John manages to deliver her one she can't use- maybe because of the time travel, maybe because he's supposed to be dead, maybe for some completely arbitrary reason he can't even guess at.
"You've ruined everything!" John yells, and that's the last Altair hears from him.
He decides it's probably time to get out of Abstergo.
-/-
Two chapters in one day. I'd pretend like I'm on a roll, but actually I've had this sitting on my computer for like a week, just waiting for an appropriate place to stick it into the plot.
Actually never mind, forget that. I'm totally on a roll.