Disclaimer – I don't own Assassin's Creed or Prototype franchise, they belong to their respective owners.

Beyond the Point of Negotiation

July 9th, 1774...

Ratonhnhaké:ton was carefully placed the knitted banner with the images of two elks bowing at each other onto the wall next his desk and, above it, there were similar banners decorating the wall, but the animals were all meat-eaters. They were signs of recognition from the Hunting Society of his victory over the strongest creatures that had ever lived on Frontiers, recently it was King Edward the Elk, a strong wapiti that had many scars on its hide and its strength was as strong as a bear despite its age. Right now Connor had the great elk's skin hidden under his bed before he could find someone who could tailor a coat from this thick hide for his Raké:ni. He slowly ran his hand over the banner, feeling a great sense of pride in him as he recalled his surrogate father's astonishment at his successes and the very Giry-like look he gave him once he recalled that his child went through great dangers for these achievements. Connor let out a quiet laugh at the memory of seeing Raké:ni pacing around in circles, almost a running headless chicken and spouting curses in different languages. Thankfully, with days of consideration on his part, the Elder was willing to let him continued his hunts on the condition that he knew when to run and told him on many occasions that it was necessary sometimes.

His daring quests in the wild did not reduce his curiosity of the stranger who had saved his life, so far Raké:ni had refused to tell him what he knew of the man, saying with a secretive smile that he would discover that person's identity in time. At the very least, he knew that the stranger was an ally and could be trusted if they ever crossed path again.

A knock on the doorway halted his train of thoughts and brought him back to reality. Leaning back slightly on the stool, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared down at his elder with a bright smile as he said, 'Lunch's ready.'

'If you realize that, then why aren't you at your chair?' his surrogate father demanded in a teasing tone as he gestured with his chin to downstairs. 'Hurry now, before your foods get cold.'

Connor quickly followed him to the dinning room and settled into his seat as he was served with the best dishes the older Kanien'kehá:ka could produce, spoiling him with delicious dishes of exotic origins and common meals. The Elder once told him that Giry had threatened him with some apocalytic punishments if he did not cook a good meal to him. In the young man's opinion, he had outdone himself in his cooking skills.

'I am glad that you like it,' Raké:ni suddenly said out of the blue, causing Ratonhnhaké:ton to froze in mid action of taking a bite from his second piece of pizza in his hand.

'Of course, I like it, Raké:ni,' the Assassin said with a bright smile as he placed his piece back to the plate. 'Everything you made is delicious and deserves the best comments. I doubt anyone else in the world could cook as well as you do.'

Hearing the soft chuckle from the older man made him blush a bright shade of red as he quickly took a bite from his pizza to keep himself from saying more. As he chewed his food, his surrogate father began, 'I like you better when you are like this than when you are an Assassin. At least, you smile without any burden. I won't.'

Connor swallowed his food quietly, wondering if his words were ever enough in comforting the older man. Suddenly a knock sounded in the silent manor, both men's heads lifted, staring in the direction where the knock, another soon followed.

The Elder cleared his throat, stood up and softly said, 'I'll get the door.'

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded in reply as he took another bite of his food, listening to the heavy steps his surrogate father made before the door opened with a loud creak and the gentle voice reached his ears.

'Hello.'

'Elder Ratonhnhaké:ton?' a young voice asked.

'Yes.'

'I bring a message to you from the Clan Mother. She says there's a gathering in Johnstown tomorrow. She wants you to attend it in her stead,' said the messenger.

The door was closed carefully and cut out whatever words his father or the messenger would say. Curious, Ratonhnhaké:ton left his seat and tiptoed to the door, pressing his ear close to it to eavesdrop on the conversation outside.

'... A white man came earlier today. He gave a letter to Clan Mother and left before we knew more. She says I must take you back to Kanatahséton immediately. Please, she says it is important,' the Native messenger insisted.

Connor heard the older Kanien'kehá:ka let out a heavy sigh before he ordered, 'Go back to the village. I will come after I settle some affairs of mine... You have my word. Now go.'

Wondering if there was more, the Assassin pressed his ear closer to the wood, but there were only the hurried footsteps of someone leaving. He nearly tumbled onto the front porch when the door suddenly opened, but a heavy hand caught his arm and prevented him from falling head first on the floor. The young man closed his eyes as he felt his cheek burned in embarrassment as he slowly straightened himself, knowing fully that when he opened his eyes, he would find the disapproving gaze from his Elder.

'Why did I ever expected you to stay in your seat is beyond me,' the older Kanien'kehá:ka breathed tiredly as he removed his hand.

'I... sorry?' muttered Connor as he took a small peak at his surrogate father under his eyelashes. Seeing the tired face on his parent made him grimaced slightly as he mentally berated himself.

'It's fine,' the older of two said as he rubbed his temple in an exasperated manner. 'Let's finish this conversation inside.'

Both of them quietly sat at the dining room, appetite lost to the unease of the news. The younger male watched his elder nervously as he waited patiently for the man to speak, but seeing the hesitant look on the man's face, it would seem he had to take the initiative. 'What news did the messenger bring?'

Raké:ni let out a frustrated sigh, eyeing the dishes on the table, he slid the tableware away before he said in a whisper, 'Troubles are brewing in every Iroquois village, all of them have received an invitation to Johnstown, William Johnson's home.'

The reaction was immediate and expected, chair fell to the ground in an abrupt bang and the tableware shook at the sudden impact on the table, the Assassin stood up and was murderous as he demanded, 'WHAT?'

The young man watched as the Elder closed his eyes at his outburst with a disapprovingly look on him, but he doubted he could react calmly at this information and it infuriated him that he was actually unperturbed by the news. This might be the other plot Achilles told me about. Are the Templars thinking of taking the land by force? Are they thinking of an attempt to kill every Elder of the Iroquois clans?

'Calm,' the older Ratonhnhaké:ton commanded sternly, giving him a look that told that he was none too please with the interruption. The Assassin opened his mouth to protest, but he instantly closed it when he recalled how their previous argument ended and how impatient and angry he became. 'You need to learn how to control yourself if you want to be able to fight our enemies. Letting your feelings blind you will lead you to nothing but troubles.'

Connor gritted his teeth tightly at the scold, though he forced himself to relax and clear his mind as his surrogate father told him at the start of their training everyday. He slowly returned the chair to its previous position and took his seat once more, though his eyes did not look at his Elder like he usual did.

Raké:ni let out an exasperated sigh before he continued, 'For now, I am not sure what's the reason he arranges this gathering, but I want you to remain in Homestead. I should be able to deal with him when we meet with the other clan members, unless the problem comes to the breaking point.'

Ratonhnhaké:ton gave the older man a curt nod before he left without another word, somewhere deep inside him, he questioned the reason of Raké:ni's reluctance in action and the growing gap in their trust.

One day later...

Johnstown, outside of William Johnson's home...

Alex sat cross-legged with an older Kanien'kehá:ka beside him, they sat between the representatives of the Guyohkohnyo (Cayuga People) and Onöñda'gega' (Onondaga) as he listened to the chief of the Onyota'a:ka (Oneida) tribe arguing with Johnson who kept glancing in his direction once in a while, wary of his intention in this gathering. He was one of the two Kanien'kehá:ka emissaries in Iroquois Confederacy, the older Native beside him was to make sure that either this meeting finished peacefully or did not end as a slaughter. Other than that, their sole purpose in this conference was to assure that Johnson left their village out of whatever development or sale he intended whether the proposal came from Britain Parliament or not.

'Brothers, please! I am confident we will find a solution,' the Templar said placantly, but it was obvious to Alex that he was being backing into a corner if he had to use the I-am-one-of-you talk.

'We are not your brothers,' the older Guyohkohnyo emisarry said coolly and the younger man beside him nodded in response, an understudy if the virus had to hazard a guess.

'Do we not seek the same things?' Johnson asked with a small gesture towards everyone. 'Peace, prosperity, fertile land.'

'You seek land, true enough. Land that is not yours, nor any person's,' the Kanien'kehá:ka beside him retorted wisely, to him their land was more than scared, it was his duty and everyone within Kanatahséton to guard the scared cave.

'I only wish to keep you safe!' William said in an overly dramatic way that made Alex wished he could puke. 'There are those who would betray and manipulate you. Or worse yet – take the land by force.'

The Blacklight virus scoffed loudly, attracting the ire of the Templar who glared at him heatedly, as he asked in a fake sweet-tone, 'Is that why you post so many guards around then? I am so shock to see so many in a small place such as this.'

His tribesman gave him a displease look when he noticed the armed men tensed at his jest before he interrupted, 'We are all too aware of the expeditions your people send against us.'

'What do you mean, my people?' Johnson demanded as if the comment actually hurt his feelings. 'We are all ONE! We should act as such.'

'How?' a young hunter from the Onyota'a:ka tribe piped up angrily. 'By signing our lands over to you? Then well be as one – in your debt forever.'

'Sir William may have a point...' a Tuscarora youngster uttered in hesitation, inexperience and doubt were the only things coating his sentence. 'What hope have we against their black powder and iron?'

'The spirits will guide us as they always have,' the elder of the Tuscaroras said reassuringly.

'Did they not guide us here?' the young man from Cayuga asked.

'Yes,' the elder replied solemnly. 'That we might unmask the great betrayer.'

'This is a mistake!' the young Tuscarora cried out. 'We should sign.'

'And how do you know signing it, it's not a mistake?' Alex demanded with a frown at the skittish human from his spot, one hand resting on his crossed legs and the other supported his chin. 'Do tell us all.'

'Peace! Peace!' Johnson addressed to the Iroquois Confederacy, acting like the kind diplomatic in a small banter between friends. 'Have I not always been an advocate? Have I not always sought to protect you from harm?'

'If you wish to protect us, then give us arms,' the chief of Oneida spoke once more. 'Muskets and horses that we might defend ourselves.'

'War is not the answer,' William said calmly with a smile as if he was speaking to a child than an Elder of a tribe.

'We remember Stanwix!' the Elder of Onyota'a:ka continued as he stood up and approached the Irish. 'We remember you moved the borders! Even today your men dig up the land – showing no regard for those who live upon it. Your words are honeyed, but false. We are not here to negotiate. Nor to sell. We are here to tell you and yours to leave these lands.'

Righteous, but will the Templar accept that? Nope. Alex thought in a deadpaned tone, but his attention to the scene soon vanished as he heard heavy footsteps coming from the rooftops. Black eyes slowly tilted upward and spied the top of a beaked white hood behind the roof. WHAT THE FUCK IS HE DOING UP THERE!

The virus bit his lips from shouting the Assassin's name as his eyes went back to Johnson who muttered in a barely concealed anger, 'So be it. I offered you an olive branch, and you knocked it from my hand.' He made a small gesture to his men who each immediately pointed their musket towards one target in the group. 'Perhaps you'll respond better to the sword.'

Alex immediately stood along with the young hunters in the group, the Onyota'a:ka hunter snarled, 'Are you threatening us?'

'Yes,' the Templar informed them regretfully.

'Then let you be a message to Haytham,' the Blacklight virus said softly.

William Johnson chuckled with a grin on his face as he replied, 'Sadly, Assassin, you won't have the chance to turn me into one. It's you who will be the message to the rest of your people. Men, make an example out of him.'

The biomass in his body tensed as he fought back the instinct to fight, to turn and to consume. The world slowed in his eyes as he watched Ratonhnhaké:ton leapt out from the rooftop with his hidden blade extended and blood gushed out like a broken water pipe, the mercenaries' attention all went to their downed employer and his murderer. Taking his chance, Alex charged towards the first hireling and shouted, 'ATTACK!'

The hunters did not need to be told twice and attacked the mercenary who was targeting them, the Elders either went for cover or wrestled against the white men for their weapon. The virus gave a swift kick in his target stomach and slammed the musket to his face, breaking his nose and disoriented him. Afterwards, he kicked the downed mercenary in the guts once more before he took the gun and quickly fired it at another mercenary who stood close to the Kanien'kehá:ka Assassin. When the Assassin remained grounded next to the corpse of Johnson, Alex gritted his teeth at the frozen Kanien'kehá:ka and yelled, 'RUN!'

It seemed that his cry finally reached the young man's ears who immediately rushed out of the small battleground with a few mercenaries chasing him, knowing that Ratonhnhaké:ton was out of harm's way allowed him to make a bloodbath out of the lackeys. Beating and stabbing whoever, aside from the Natives, appeared in his line of sight. He danced across the entire fight, aiding those he needed him in a melee fight and throwing rock with a precise precision at enemies who had their musket reloaded. By the end of the fight, the only one who was covered in blood was him and, thankfully, none of the Elders or hunters had been seriously injured in the fight. His partner soon came next to him and surveyed the massacre, sighing tiredly like he had fought the Seven Years War from its beginning to its end and frowning in a way that made him looked extremely old. Alex ignored him and went to the Templar's corpse with a grimace, staring at the empty gaze of the dead man.

The Elder Kanien'kehá:ka came and slowly closed Johnson's eyes, he softly prayed, 'May your God and Spirits welcome you to their embrace as your burdens fade with your passing.'

After he crossed the man's arms over his chest, he stood up and head tilted downward in respect to the dead, Alex was not exactly thrilled with the idea of showing respect to the guy who was trying to kill them and voiced his opinion of such, 'He won't show us the same respect if we are the corpses.'

'Perhaps, perhaps not,' the Elder muttered quietly as he turned his body to face directly with a stern gaze. 'We are not the white men, they might despise us for not being like them, but we should treat them with the same respect just as we do to each other.'

'I wonder why we even bother to speak to them in the first place,' the virus whispered nonchalantly.

'War is never the answer,' the old Native repeated the dead man's words. 'But it is also inevitable. Our tribes fought and made amends, but we do not intend destroy our enemies, only to push them back. Now the men we fight against do not possess the same view and they have the intention to lay everything we have managed to sow to ruins.'

'Then shouldn't we respond in kind?' Alex demanded without pause, because that was what he did back in New York Zero, he had destroyed both Blackwatch and Gentek from inside out.

'Sometimes, mercy is all that is needed to correct a wrong,' was the sole reply he received before the Elder moved to the rest of the group who were silently arguing amongst themselves in what they should do next.

A few hours later...

Homestead Manor, Hidden Room...

Connor stood at the Templar conspiracy table, staring at the paintings of his enemies, especially that of William Johnson whose words haunted him from his journey back to Homestead. He could hear them so clearly that he felt himself drawn back into his memories at the scene of the murder.

'Ah no,' the dying Templar gasped out, blood coating his neck and red clothes, staining the shroud the Natives made for him long ago. 'What have you done?'

'Ensured an end to your schemes,' the Assassin answered confidently to his enemy. 'You sought to claim these lands for the Templars...'

'Aye. That we might PROTECT them!' Johnson justified, whizzing slightly as his hand tried to reach for the mortal wound. 'Do you think that good King George lies awake at night hoping that no harm comes to his native subjects? Or that the people of the city care one whit about them? Oh, sure, the colonists are happy to trade when they need food or shelter or a bit of extra padding for their armies. But when the walls of the city constrict – when there's crops that need soil – when there's... when there's no more enemy to fight – we'll see how kind the people are then.'

Kneeling next to dying man, Connor retorted softly and believed every word he said, 'The colonists have no quarrel with the Iroquois.'

'Not yet,' the Templar breathed out. 'But they will. 'Tis the way of the world. In time, they'll turn. I... I could have stopped it. I could have saved you all.'

The Assassin shook his head in dismiss of the white man's words as he said, 'You speak of salvation, but you were killing them.'

'Aye. Because they would not listen!' Johnson voiced angrily, struggling for breath. 'And so, it seems, neither will you...'

Ratonhnhaké:ton slowly stood up and whispered, 'May the Faceless One grand you the peace you claimed to seek.'

'I suppose you are glad to have eliminate one of the main antagonists of this story,' Raké:ni whispered indifferently as he stood next to him, breaking the Templar's justifying words from his memories.

'I...' Ratonhnhaké:ton began and filled with uncertainty. 'I thought it might bring clarity. Or instill a sense of accomplishment. But all I feel is regret. Killing Johnson will keep our people safe, but why do I only find doubts from his death?'

His surrogate father did not reply and only continued to stare at Haytham's painting as if he was questioning the Grandmaster himself of his purpose and plan.

It would have seemed that silence was his sole answer, making the younger man to sigh in frustration as he headed back upstairs, but he stopped when he heard his Raké:ni said, 'Someone has asked that peculiar question to me once...'

Turning to face the shadowed back of the Elder, Connor listened to his story. 'The question is only asked after he had slaughtered every man and woman responsible for what he had became, a monster, a mass-murder, a man who began with nothing and ended with nothing. It took him some time for him to fully realize that he is still a human, not the monster his enemies denounced, but it was too late and the only thing he bore since that day was the regret and the consequences of his action.'

'...Is this story that of the stranger I met last year?' the Assassin asked.

'...' the older Kanien'kehá:ka answered with a bittersweet smile as he looked over his shoulder. 'You will have to ask him yourself and the rest of his tale.'

The young man blinked a few times in surprise at the suggestion before his eyes went to the portrait of his father by blood and inquired, 'Are you afraid that I will end up like that person?'

'Yes,' his mentor answered truthfully as he returned his unwavering stare at the Grandmaster's painting. 'The possibility will always be there Ratonhnhaké:ton. The question that is yet to be answered is whether you fall onto it or it falls onto you.'

'We don't know for certain, am I correct?' inquired Connor. 'It could be evaded. What happens later, we will never know. I want to believe that things could change for the better. No. I BELIEVE that it's possible for us and the Colonists to cooperate and live in peace.'

'Monsters devour Men. Heroes slay the Monsters. And Men... Destroy their Heroes.'

That was the only and final answer he had received in this conversation.

I hope everyone has been enjoying the story so far and I apologize for the short chapter.