Chapter 37: Past- Night Raven

A/N: Finally. Finally. Finally, finally, finally, finally. Oh, there is no other word I can think of in this moment aside from that. At last, we have the biggest update ever brought to this fic. I have wanted for so long to get to this part of the story. In fact, the last chapter of this update is one that I have thought of and have worked on since the beginning. That chapter, Chapter 41, is the one I have wanted so badly to bring to every reader who had touched my story. Some of you have been with my fic since the beginning, so I am glad to tell you that if you have been reading it for this long, that chapter is dedicated to you, and your loyal reading. You're what keeps me going to tell a story that I have wanted to for a while.

This is the only A/N in the update, so I will run through a few things. Firstly, this update DOES NOT cover the end of the Arendelle arc in Once Season 4. But that part is coming soon enough. I just wanted to get all of these chapters up to Chapter 41 put in a bulk update.

Secondly, I am aware that some of you do not like the new reboot of Once. I don't know what happened, and I honestly don't care. I have lost my interest for it long ago. Just my own opinion.

Thirdly, I am changing the rating from T to M due to some graphic imagery and further excessive use of language. But please read knowing that it is still the story I have been planning for a long time.

And fourthly, I am eager to just picture the look on every one of your faces as you finish Chapter 41. But enjoy every one of them, as I have worked tirelessly for the last few months to bring you my biggest update yet. Have a good night.

January 1st 2012 12:47 AM

I hate crows. Crows and ravens alike. I'm sure a lot of other people would agree with me, thinking the same; They give us no reason to hate them aside from just existing. In the world of birds, they're nothing more than rats with black wings.

I stood there in the snow, feeling my rage for the rat with wings ascend with every passing second as it flew off with my only way out of this hell.

But this was no ordinary raven, I had to keep reminding myself. It was the fourth Watcher, the Night Raven.

To be honest, this was the one Watcher I did the least amount of research on, and had forgotten most of what it meant to see one by the end of this. I was rightfully afraid of all of the Watchers, but the worst of them was yet to come.

I had no time left to waste. Without another word to myself I ran in the direction the raven flew.

The mission was a complete failure, despite what Bill would later do to cover it up. All the resources he poured into the mission, and it ended up with me captured and the rest of us scattered.

But what honestly hurt most about it was knowing in my heart that I would never see Ruthe again. I loved her more than anything else in this world, despite what she believed me to truly be obsessed about.

I was lost when she left me. There were no goodbyes or angry confrontations. The last night we had together was a quiet one. I woke up the next morning to an empty bed, some of her things in our place packed up, and a note on the coffeepot.

The raven's flight path took it to the top of a large hill in the middle of the forest. It flitted between the branches of the pines before swooping out of sight somewhere at the top of the hill. I looked down to the face of the hill, where I saw the entrance to a cave. Too steep to climb, and only the entrance, the way forward.

"…Fuck."

I carelessly took out my lighter, lit it, then headed inside. I knew what was coming next. One more memory. The one where I truly hit rock bottom, and everything was ripped from me yet again. Thanks to the monsters at Abstergo.

May 2006

What was my life worth anymore? Clearly nothing to the Assassins, and certainly not to Bill Miles; there had been no word from anyone on the outside. Not like I could tell inside this place. It had been two months since I had been nabbed by Abstergo and brought to their laboratories in Rome. Before this, I had been known as Asgeir Swortssen. Or as Tyson Landen, or one of the other countless aliases I had used in my time running from them as well as fighting back. Now, to them, I was a number in this new experiment they were working on. Subject 11 they now called me.

My room was in the corner of the entire floor, but still did not afford me much opportunities to get away from their prying eyes. Two of the walls that made up the room were made completely of glass, giving anyone in the main lab a clear view of me if I got any funny ideas. The ceilings I figured to be at least a good hundred feet above me, my assumption being that their purpose was to intimidate me. And if it wasn't a lab technician or security guard eyeing me every waking hour, I had the cameras to thank, instead. These bastards would not take any chances with me.

I walked over to the table in my room. They didn't give me much to distract myself between "sessions". A notebook and pen, and nothing else. They had made it clear to me before that even if I had any funny ideas with that pen, they could send in even worse people to pry the information out of me. There was no real escape. Before, I had been locked in imperfect prisons in the Land of Magic. Now, this was

It was supposed to be a simple mission in Finland. Snatch and grab. I was one of the few Bill could trust with his son's life, and based on what had last transpired with us, his lack of options was reflected by that. But it was all part of the Templars' plans. They wanted us to try to find Desmond. Everything had been doctored by them in an attempt to draw Bill out of hiding. You'd be amazed at what they can do with a security camera and Photoshop. Bill had been the intended target, but they got me instead, someone they only realized two weeks into my kidnapping they had wanted even more than Miles. I was at least happy to hear that they were only able to grab me while the others escaped.

The old man headed the project. Always had the calm and comforting aura of a kindly grandfather. Till he opened his mouth and made it clear that he had no qualms with other methods.

"We know who you are, Mr. Swortssen. What you are. And you have information that my employers want, locked away in that head of yours."

I heard demonstrations. They were working on a computer program of sorts. Shit straight out of The Matrix. Not that far from the reality, if one might think of the Templars as the Agents. But as much as they threatened to do it to me, I never ended up getting hooked to their machine in the last couple months. So maybe they thought it had the risk of killing me, or worse. Stuff they couldn't afford to do to one of their most valuable assets at the moment.

The blonde was the only one who really showed me any compassion, but I still knew she was my jailer like the rest of them, and I barely spoke a word to her. She reminded me a lot of one girl by looks, and another by voice. Girls from a whole life ago.

From the other side of the glass wall, two men crossed the lab to my doors. The old man and another familiar one walked in. Both in lab coats, and the younger holding a clipboard.

"Mr. Swortssen." The geezer greeted in that faux kindly manner.

"Dr. Vidic." I nodded angrily. "Dr. Gramatica."

The younger man gave a sly grin. "He's polite today. That's a nice change."

"It's only because he knows the futility of his situation." Vidic replied. He slowly approached me, eyeing me with interest. I didn't like it, and began to back away, slowly easing towards the glass walls. Not that I thought I could escape. I just wasn't comfortable with that look; it wasn't a familiar one from him.

"How much blood was taken from him last night, Alvaro?"

Dr. Gramatica shuffled through the papers on his clipboard. I had an idea of what they held. Basic profile of me, identification and character. They at least had the courtesy to start with simple psychological tests before draining nearly all my blood every night, followed by even more tortures. Much like the therapists I was sent to, they too believed me to have PTSD.

"Uh… Ms. Stillman was instructed to take 1750 ml of blood out of Subject 11. Another 250 added to the usual rate."

"You must understand why we are doing this, Mr. Swortssen." Vidic said as he continued facing me, his back towards the cot they provided me. "Every procedure Dr. Gramatica and Mr. Maloy are inflicting on you doesn't seem to show any real results on you. We can't even find any puncture wounds on your arms from previous sessions. So many Assassins and Subjects brought here to this place, and none have shown results quite like yours."

"Can you get to the point of this, Doc? I believe Maloy's putting me back on the rack today."

Vidic glared at me. Then, looking over past my shoulder, through the glass wall, he nodded to someone. I turned around.

BANG!

The panel separating my room from the lab suddenly shattered, and I flew backwards. I knew a gunshot when I felt one. I had lost count of the amount I had taken since the curse. They still hurt as much as any did, but imagine getting right back up when you took one.

A blonde-haired man in a black and red jacket stepped through the broken glass wall, walking into the room. The shards cracked under the weight of every step that he took as he walked up to me.

He had shot me right in the front of the head. I lay on the ground, hoping with futility that they'd think I was dead. I had faked my death before with King George. This should be easy.

He knelt down and grabbed the hair on the back of my head. "Blood, but no exit wound." He muttered, running his fingers through. He turned me over, making me face him. I did my best to make my eyes look like I was dead. "He's not breathing." He continued to mutter, mostly to himself.

"Well, Mr. Maloy?" Vidic asked.

He looked up at the doctor, grinning. "Blood on his face, but no entrance wound either. It's like I didn't even shoot him." He looked down at me, reaching into his pocket. "Which means he really shouldn't be dead."

Vidic chuckled. "Knock yourself out, Mr. Maloy. But do be gentle. We still have plenty of work ahead of us with Subject 11."

"No promises, Warren." He chuckled. He took the object from his pocket, and snapped it shut in front of my eyes. "You got a bad tooth there, Assassin. Lemme fix that for you."

He clamped the small pair of pilers on my tooth and pulled. I knew it was going to grow back, but that didn't stop me from screaming so loudly.

All my teeth were now scattered across the floor, yet still grown back in a matter of seconds. This kind of treatment I had been receiving was usual for the last couple of months. I was called Subject 11 in their Animus Program, but my case was different. Their uses for the first ten subjects were trying to use the computer to make people relive the lives of their ancestors. I heard about some of the other subjects and their cases. All of them were suspected by Abstergo to have Assassins somewhere in their bloodlines. And from what little I heard, each of these ancestors had had dealings with the Pieces of Eden. I was never hooked up to that machine, instead subject to more torture than I had ever gone through before. George and the other Templars may have had magic on their side, but these toys the modern day Abstergo shites had were even worse.

The human body carries about 4-5 liters of blood. An average blood donation takes about 450 ml from donors. When they first grabbed me, they took a large blood sample to see if they could unfold my genes themselves instead of using the Animus. But I heard that when they tried using my blood in the computer, the genes became corrupted by the software, and they couldn't use them again. They needed more samples from me while they updated the program.

When they couldn't find the puncture wound for the second donation, they started to understand what afflicted me. They began increasing the take every time, because they were getting strange results from me. And since I was an O- type, they had a way to hide what they were doing to me. Italy's hospitals were all now receiving large donations weekly from me, and me alone.

Waterboarding, shock therapy, drills, it went on and on. Hell, when one of their mercs came from China, he did something to me he kept calling "Lingchi". Or well, he tried. "Death by a thousand cuts", it's supposed to be. Only, every time they tried cutting me, my wounds kept healing.

One day, Maloy visited me in my cell. Had a file in his hands, but kept it closed as he sat at the chair in the corner.

"More dental work today, I assume?" I asked. "Or waterboarding. I'm starting to stink, now that I think about it. I could use a shower."

"We've unlocked your genes, Subject 11." He sneered. "Some interesting things we were able to find. The Animus keeps crashing since we aren't plugging in the main man himself, yet what we are finding is really incredible."

No point in hiding it. "Other worlds? Good luck finding a way to get there. I destroyed the only Beans I had left before you arseholes grabbed me, and the rest are in Assassin hands."

"I will admit, that part interests me as much as it does Dr. Vidic." Maloy replied. "The Multiverse theory was right all along, but it's the result of magic. Magic! And here we were under the impression that the Pieces were all just products of Precursor science."

"That's all you come here for? Why are you even keeping me here if you have managed to decode everything?"

Maloy didn't answer. Instead, he looked inquisitively at me. "Proud of your heritage, aren't you? Assassins, Assassins, Assassins. Generations of them, all in your genes. Would you believe that you're the first case we've had with these many generations of Assassins in a row?"

"Hundreds of years." I replied. "I know how many. Twenty-six generations." My father told me the story. The first of my bloodline to become an Assassin was Asgeir the First, where I got my name from.

Maloy's eye sparked. "That many, huh?" He opened the file, skimming through. "That is a lot of generations of Assassins. That's a tall number right here." He looked down at the file, then back up at me, a sliver of realization hitting his face. "You mean you don't... oh. You don't even know what's really going on, do you? You don't know the truth."

I would forever damn the sound of those words years afterwards. But in that moment, I knew the sound of that wasn't good.

Maloy chuckled. "Oh, this is just priceless. You're going to do so much for us, Assassin." He laughed, getting up. He paced around the room, excited, like a kid in the candy store. "All the generations of warriors in your genes, and we never even hooked you up to the machine."

Then he grinned even nastier at me. "We just found out this morning, and you have no idea what is really going on. Good. Now it means we have nothing else to bargain with you, Mr. Swortssen. Only one thing left for us to do."

As if he thought it would taunt me further, Maloy suddenly pulled a lighter from his pocket, and set the file on fire, letting it fall to the floor, crackling and curling up into ashes. Undoubtedly, I did feel a sense of dread. There was something in that file that Abstergo had found concerning my ancestors. Or maybe something from a later generation? My grandfather, Norik? My father?

Oh, shit. No, they had found my mother's side of the family! Elsa, and the freak. Somehow they might have thought that they could unlock the secrets of her powers.

Maloy got up from his chair, pulling his sidearm out.

"Move, Swortssen."

"You know that's not going to do anything to me, right?"

Maloy glanced at the gun, then chuckled, holstering it. "Sorry. Force of habit. Get your fucking ass out there, now." He replied.

I sighed, heading for the doors. The glass panels he had shot through a few weeks back had been replaced faster than I had ever imagined. Maloy walked through the doors this time, uncomfortably close behind me with every step. When we came out to the lab, I found the old man and Gramatica were out there, the blonde assistant walking around, making preparations of sorts to the curvy table, which I knew to be the Animus.

"No, we're not having you play around with it, Assassin." Maloy said, almost reading my mind as he shoved me across the room. "We don't need to, anymore."

"Subject 11, if you will." Vidic said in that condescending tone of his. He gestured to a chair a few feet from the Animus. It wasn't like your typical folding chair one might have at a barbeque with a cold one in their hand. The chair looked just as imposing as the Animus itself, yet showed no signs of any torture devices on it. I hesitantly walked to the chair, and sat down as Vidic strode to right in front of my seat.

"If this is taunting me about what I clearly don't seem to know about what's in my file, Maloy's already given me an earful."

Vidic glared at him. "My apologies, Mr. Swortssen. Christian was told precisely not to do that."

"And yet I find it very entertaining." He replied. "He has no idea."

Vidic rubbed his chin, old fingers scraping through his closely trimmed beard. "We will talk about this afterwards, Maloy."

He turned to me. "You are a remarkable individual, Subject 11. Nothing seems to hurt you, no matter what we have done. Something that we could use greatly in our modern Crusade.

"Your Assassin brothers have abandoned you. There have been no efforts, covert or otherwise to retrieve you. Just more of the same pathetic fighting on the defense that they have been showing for the last six years."

I knew his mind games. But now I was just remembering what kind of madman this guy was. The more I talked, the more I showed my hand. And right now I needed to do anything I could to take him down with the shit hand I was dealt.

"Nothing? Hmm. There must be some way to coerce you. Everyone breaks eventually."

Not me. I would never join the Templars.

Vidic knelt down, bringing us to the same eye level. The direct approach wasn't enough for him, and now it was a battle of wits. He just stared at me, and I, him. The both of us trying to find out what the other was thinking. I was just hoping whatever he did next to me was going to bring this to an end.

"Fair enough. Miss Stillman."

I heard a switch click behind me, activating harnesses in the chair that tethered me to it by the chest. More torture. Typical.

"If Maloy has told you enough, I will fill you in on the rest, Mr. Swortssen."

He never called me by my first name. Only Mr. Swortssen or Subject 11.

"The DNA sequenced from you did indeed yield interesting results. The research here has advanced the Sample Animus program by years, at the least. But there is one more sample we need from you."

"You got enough blood from me." I said. "What the fuck else?"

"Now, now. It's a simple trade, Mr. Swortssen. You can give it to us willingly, or we will take it from you by more painful means."

I spat loudly at his feet. I was sick of these games. "Fuck. You."

Vidic sighed, then nodded to the assistant behind him.

Suddenly, I heard a high whirring like that of a dentist's drill. Then pain. Nothing but pain. It was worse- yes, much, much worse than the knife Ingrid had slashed me with. Right in the back of my head, I felt it. What can be described as worse than white hot pain? There isn't a word for it, because those bastards who wrote the expression never felt what I did. This would be the moment where people would begin to drift off to that bright light with no return. But I was stuck here. Forever doomed to remain.

I felt the pain suddenly stop, and I leaned forwards, coughing blood out on the polished floors.

"AGH. What the fuck did you just do?!" I hollered.

Vidic remained unfazed. "We have gone over how DNA contains the memories of our ancestors. But what we didn't speak of was what samples we needed from you to sequence the memories correctly. What we tried with a recently dead Subject proved to be fruitful, taking brain tissue samples. The DNA from those samples has the best concentration of lost memories, and therefore can provide us with the best possible sequencing. And now that we know of your condition, we could take as much of your brain without having to sacrifice you."

"I'M GOING TO RIP YOUR NUTS OFF AND TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT WITH MY TEETH, YOU FUCKING WANKER!" I screamed, thrashing and shaking in the chair. It was no use; bolted to the ground.

"We will not be getting anywhere with this kind of behavior, Mr. Swortssen." Vidic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with impatience. "But it brings us to our second version of this deal. Join the Templars, and I will stop taking pieces of your brain. We will continue to do this for as long as we want. Because there truly is nothing stopping us."

I kept shaking and kicking, too far away to hit anyone. After a few minutes of this, I stopped, realizing how little progress it was giving me. Finally, I gave them a coherent answer.

"If I joined you bastards, what's to stop you from doing much worse to me? You think I don't know about the highest-ranking members getting imbued with tracking chips? That's not freedom. Not even the twisted freedom you freaks describe."

"You think we can do much worse that what we did just now?" Vidic asked.

"You cunts are a crafty bunch. You'd find a way to do worse."

Vidic was about to speak, when suddenly, Maloy burst out laughing. He held a fist to his mouth as he did so, but there was no mistaking the insane laughter coming from him.

Vidic turned to him, but then actually gave a smile. One that sent that familiar feeling of dread right up my spine.

"Mr. Maloy, you have free reign to do with him as you will. I am done with Subject 11." He said, as he, Gramatica, and even the lab assistant walked out. Within a minute, it was just me and him in the lab. Far on the other side of the room, I could see the clear streets of Rome, below the shadow of the building.

"I hate your kind." He sneered. "So much."

"I could say the same about you." I replied.

"I lot so many good men to murderers like you. Time to return the favor."

Maloy pulled out a two way radio on his belt and held the button. "Bring them out."

Doors on the far side of the lab opened, and three Abstergo guards walked in, each one holding a rifle to one of three figures. Figures in white hood-

"NO!" I screamed, suddenly realizing who they were. More thrashing and kicking from me, but Maloy was far enough away, and only laughed as the guards brought each prisoner in front of him. He had them line up side by side, facing me in the chair. Then he yanked all their hoods down so I could see their faces.

Scott. Patrick. And… Gods, no. Please.

"We found these snakes three weeks after we grabbed you." Maloy said. "The higher ups had no idea what to do with them until yo- oh for fuck's sake, shut him up!"

He snapped his fingers, prompting a guard to waddle over with a gag. I thrashed harder and faster, trying to shake him off as he wrapped the thing around my face, but it wasn't enough. Nothing I was doing was enough. Scott looked afraid as he looked at me. Patrick, sad. Only Ruthe showed the same look that I may have looked if it was me there on the ground. If I wasn't so broken.

"Now ain't this just peachy." Maloy chuckled. "Nice little reunion, here. Not everyone present, but we'll find the other two soon enough." He knelt down beside Ruthe as I screamed for him through the gag. Screaming for him to get away from her.

"I just want you all to know, that this is personal. Very, very personal." He said.

One of the guards handed Maloy his shotgun. He walked over to the other side, where Scott was breathing rapidly, trying hard to calm down.

"What's the matter, boy? You scared of a buckshot to the face?"

"No." Scott gasped. "I'm thinking of what my uncle felt, looking out that window five years ago."

"Hm." Maloy said. "Maybe it felt a little something like this."

*BANG*

"NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUAAAAAAGFF!"

Scott's face was split apart like a pumpkin. Blood, skull, brains, all of it pooling on the floor, turning his hoodie crimson.

Ruthe glared forwards, but Patrick was crying as he saw his friend's spark go out. I almost saw the blood covered fingers twitch a bit before I saw his life be snuffed completely.

Maloy then moved over to her. "You seem pissed."

"Take our lives. Go on. You can take our lives, but we will have yours in return. I swear it." She snarled.

"I'm counting on half of that, bitch." He chuckled.

This time he pulled out his sidearm, but still held the shotgun in his other hand. I felt my heart break with every round he put in her. Three in her left leg, three in her right, before he ran out in that gun, dropped it to the floor, and stuck the rifle in her mouth.

*BANG*

"NNAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

I was sobbing so loudly, I didn't even hear the exchange between the Brit and the man who suddenly moved to the top of my list. Ingrid would wait.

*BANG*

My head felt like a rock buried at the bottom of hell. The pressure caving in around me. It had gotten worse. It was worse than getting pieces of my brain carved out of my head. I was broken.

I didn't protest or try to stop them when one of the guards flipped a switch behind me on the Animus, unlocking the harness and letting me fall the floor.

Maloy put his boot on the back of my head as I saw Ruthe's shattered face right in front of me on the floor, blood everywhere. That's all that was left of what I cared for. For the third time in my life, everything that I had cared for was gone.

Maloy stood among the mess as the guards pulled me up.

"Should have just said yes, bastard." He laughed as he forced the rifle into my mouth. We both knew that it wouldn't do anything to me, but we also both knew why he really did it: He loved it.

I didn't speak for the next month. Aside from the screams with every day that they took more and more of my brain out. Gramatica had me moved to a lower floor, but with an almost identical lab. I never saw Vidic again, and I heard Maloy had gone back home to America. They made it clear that there was nothing to gain from anything I tried to do.

I had nothing. Twenty five years of searching for hope, searching for revenge, searching for anything had resulted in everything being taken away from me once again. There was no hope. Everything was lost.

Anna, Elsa, Kristoff, Troy, Rabbit, all my family was gone. And the worst of it was how not even the Assassins cared enough to try to find me. Half of what I loved was taken from me, and the other half had left me. I was all alone.

Alone…

Alone…

...

I didn't even think. All remember one morning in June was knowing that this was the last time I would let them take anything from me, even if it was just pieces of my brain that would grow right back. That morning, the guard came in with the breakfast tray. I knew something was different with him that morning. And when I saw how he had mistakenly brought his Billy club into the room with him, still attached to his belt.

"Breakfast of champs." He said.

I looked up from his belt to him in the face. No second thought. No second in time. I just lunged for him, sinking my teeth into his neck. I bit harder and harder, the soft flesh of his neck filling my mouth with liquid copper. Like melted pennies, I swallowed, feeling some bits of apple stuck between my teeth. I didn't use my hands here; he deserved a lot more pain than a broken neck. And that bite was enough to do him in.

He was shocked, more than anything else, as his life ebbed away. Quickly, I felt myself break every one of his fingers and his right wrist to stop him from reaching the club. Then I yanked it off his belt and ran for the glass panels.

Already, I could hear alarms going off. I smashed the glass panel to the labs with the club, running across the labs to the massive window that overlooked Rome. Too high up for anyone to survive the fall, even if they fell on one of the adjacent buildings. But I didn't care. I needed to get out.

The club easily went right through the plexiglass, and I still held onto it as I stood before the edge. Men shouting and running for the lab, and I didn't stop to look back. No more looking back for anything. Down into the streets of Rome.

The fall hurt worse than any fall I had taken before. No hay bale to cushion the landing. But I knew what I was feeling would be nothing compared to what they would do if they caught me. So, I ran. Faster than I ever thought I could do before.

I was done with Abstergo. Done with the Assassins and the Templars. Their war had given me nothing but pain and suffering from the hands of both sides. Matthew raised me as his surrogate son to become the next Mentor, and it lost me my sisters. The Masters sent me to be their errand boy and stop a madman from destroying an entire realm, and it lost me my chance at a new life in a new world. I went back into the fight for one last go by the orders of William Miles, and it lost me everything I had left.

I was hearing sirens. I was weaving in and out of narrow, cobbled streets, trying to figure out where to go. One word came to mind, but I'd have to be crazy, considering what the distance was.

Rome was right on the Mediterranean, but to have any chance of reaching the ocean, I needed to find the Tiber.

The sun was high in the sky, but still on the verge of rising. It at least helped me know which way was North, giving me an idea of how I was to reach the river. Sirens were filling the streets at every turn, but I knew how to evade them from experience. Weaving in and out of the streets was easy. Whenever I felt the police getting close to my position, I used my skills to disappear. Those things hadn't been lost from me, no matter what anyone tried to do to me.

And soon enough. I made it to the river. Just like the window, I didn't even wait. I just dove in, and began to swim. Where? First, I swam fast to avoid the prying eyes as they saw a man jump right in. I dove underwater, feeling my way through as I kept swimming downstream. No need to come up for air. I couldn't breathe underwater, but I couldn't drown, either. I swam further and further, finally making it to where the river met the sea. I knew exactly where to go. It would take longer than ever before, but I only had one thing left in the entire world, and he had gone back to his hole. I had a country to search, but I could find the rat and do to him what he had done to me. I was going to swim to America.

A ladder. Suddenly, a ladder appeared, right underwater in the ocean in front of me. When I grabbed it, I was back. Back here, in hell. The water was gone. The dark room all around me, but the ladder, still here. No other options left. I climbed.

The climb brought me to a hatch in the ceiling, where I found the little fucker perched. The little raven, with my key.

Before I could even reach him, the raven opened its beak, facing upwards to the black sky. Snow still fell, coming down, but the raven did not take notice, instead its form shifting. A shape rose out of its open beak. A shape not unlike another raven, but with a much more human shape from the neck down. Skeletal and ominous, it eyed me with endless voids in its skull. But it did nothing to me. Instead, it simply flew off, dropping the key at my feet.

The key. The one I had gone to lengths all night to get from these bastards, hopefully to finally end all of this and learn from the Masters what they had wanted me to know. Whatever opened this key would lead me to the end.

I held it up, examining it closely. It looked like an old key from very long ago, with a head shaped a lot like a goat's head. Though I knew it symbolized something a lot worse than a goat. The worst of them all, in fact.

I put the key in my pocket, suddenly noticing I had a view better than anywhere else. One that showed me exactly where I needed to go: A large iron gate in a cobblestone wall, far down through the fields. A locked gate, I would bet.

And then another vision struck me. Once again, I saw me. Or someone who looked a lot like me. Standing in a familiar town plaza, snow and ice everywhere, with one thing left in that person's mind: Death. All that was left for him, all that was left for me as I swam away from Rome, and all that was left for me now. Death for the one person who took everything from me. And in his eyes, another symbol: A square.