Disclaimer - I don't own Assassin's Creed or Prototype, they belong to their respective owners. Curren chapter is unbeta'd.

Viral Escape

The Grandmaster's head snapped up at the thundering roar that reverberated throughout the area he was imprisoned in. Slowly he approached the glimmering wall that kept him prisoner in this stone chamber and eyes darting left and right while activating his sixth sense. After Zeus was devoured by the giant monster, he barely had time to start running before he was instantly ambushed by several undead-like beings. Instead of feasting on him like they did to his companion, they had simply taken him to an ancient cell and left him here unspoiled, which was worrisome, especially when taking account the dirty rags that littered the floor and the splatters of dried blood on the walls. Whoever was trapped here before him, they did not die peacefully. How was he going to escape this wretched Hell?

If you want to die so much, then be my guest. Do not expect me to save you from the grave you're digging for yourself by messing into this monster story. Zeus' voice echoed in Haytham's mind. To think that what his friend had said would come true. The irony of that sentence couldn't be crueller. Despite his constant refusal of divulging his knowledge and the sparks of anger that rose whenever they met, the Assassin had actually cared about him. Perhaps he should have listened to the Mohawk back then, maybe if he had taken heed of his warning, they would still be at war with each other, but alive at least. The Templar had firmly believed that with Zeus being fully committed to his Assassin Brotherhood, his death would be the same as his predecessors, insignificant and maybe just a tinge of disappointment at the waste of potential. Yet his death carried more guilt than he had initially thought it would. Perhaps it was the knowledge that the Assassin actually had a family waiting for him and the fact that his friend had built a community that was not tied to the Brotherhood.

The gentleness the other had displayed felt like a mockery back then, the Templar only now realized how much his friend had built from the ground up. Despite the hatred that burned through his veins and the desire for vindication powered his every move, the Native's heart did not close itself up entirely and what he had seen and heard were evidences of the good in Zeus. Homestead was no longer an Assassin hideout like Achilles had made his land to be and was now a flourishing community that was built with people from all walks of life. Their Order's informant, Gillian McCarthy, had also reported that the Assassin had a child of his own, a son who ran a privateer business using the repaired Aquila, though they were still uncertain how much tie the son had with the Brotherhood, because the pair shared many similarities that their spies often mistook one for the other. In a manner of speaking, he was envious of what the other had accomplished in these few short years, which seemed far more fruitful than all the years he had spent with the Order. His chase for answers and the secrets of the Precursors had left him on his own for many years, accompanied only by silly daydreams of a peaceful and happy family.

Haytham jumped slightly when several growls sounded and the floor below him rumbled as a wave of monsters ran past his cell. What had caused such chaotic disturbance? Did the crew made land despite his order? Carefully, the Templar pressed as close as he dared to the glowing barrier, whatever composed this barrier certainly made it as strong as the toughest metal in existence despite its translucent quality, his forceful attempts to break through with his sword had the weapon's material completely melted and warned him that further attempts might ended up with him being burned for it. The British jumped in shock when something slammed against the barrier and backed away as he stared at the faceless quadruped. Its translucent red skin covered the top half of its human-looking skull that left no space for eyes, ears or nose, like someone had decided to polish those off. Its body overall resembled an enormous and skinless human being with powerful muscle structure and each bulky finger looked like a small hammer head. A bad feeling ran down his spine as he watched four more of its siblings joined it and the monsters all started snarling at him, then one of them tried to pounce, only to be forced back by the barrier. Soon, all of them started hammering against the barrier, ignoring how it was cooking their flesh and only focusing on the helpless prey beyond it.

The Grandmaster could not believe his luck as he began looking around his cell more thoroughly, hoping to find some kind of hidden pathway that would allow him to escape from the encroaching danger, but his Eagle Vision failed him, it revealed to him that this was just a simple cell with only one exit and said exit was now covered by five hungry beasts. He coughed out a mirthless laugh as he faced the mindless monsters, having survived so many attempts on his life and escaped so many deadly situations, and realized that this was where he would die, to be devoured by the very monsters he had sought.

Haytham bit his lips to draw his focus back onto his current troubled situation. This was no place and time to wallow in despair and self-pity. A new determination settled in him as he pushed away the dark thoughts. Out of respect and guilt, the Templar must get out of this place, for he had to at least make sure that Zeus' son knew what had happened to his father. Jennifer had once told him that waiting for someone while carrying that tiny hope they would return was a horrible curse, she had seen what it had done to her own mother, had sampled it during her imprisonment and had advised him to forgo it on his Templar path. Once such seed was planted, it would grow to consume all life in you and darken your remaining days. Zeus deserved to be remembered as a loving father and a caring man, not a heartless one who had abandoned his family for selfish reason.

Brown eyes darted from one beast to the other as the barrier flickered dangerously, indicating it was weakening under the constant onslaught. The Templar settled into his stance, body readied to fight or flee once his sole protection faded into nothingness. Time almost slowed in Haytham's eyes as he watched the barrier shattered into sparkling ether and the beasts stumbled forward like a stampede. He only had one goal in mind and that was to... SURVIVE!

He managed to jump over the first beast and ducked under the outstretched arm of the second one, rolling out of the way of the third and fourth monster. The last creature came close to catching him with a swipe of his arm, but he managed to throw himself to the side to avoid the strike. Unfortunately, he underestimated its speed as its other giant hand swiped forward and caught him in a deadly grip. Gritting his teeth as pain sparked from where the creature's fingers were crushing his body, Haytham released his hidden blade and stabbed the thick skin with as much strength as he could muster in the awkward angle he was in, hoping it would loosen its hold on him. His weak stabs only angered the beast as it growled and opened its wide mouth to bite off his head. The Templar pulled his arm back to redirect his next attack, but the monster's head vanished in front of his eyes and the deadly grip on him fell lax. Both he and the headless corpse fell onto the stone floor with a loud thud.

His breath was knocked out of him from the fall and the weight pressing against his bruised body was not helping either, but Haytham still forced himself to move, knowing that every second could affect his survival. As the Templar managed to crawl out from the corpse's grip, he only realized how quiet the room was when he noticed how still the monsters that had tried to eat him were and seemingly staring at something behind him. He warily turned to look at what caught their attention and his body froze up against his will. A new creature stood at the entrance of the cell.

Unlike the bulky beings that had attacked him, the new monster's overall appearance could easily be mistaken to be a man covered in unusual armour. Its armour's pieces had an almost liquid quality to them as ripples continued to run over each piece while they kept shifting from one shape to another, as if they couldn't settle for a specific form. Blood red veins spread all over its body like intricate roots, which all connected to a bright glowing crystal that was stuck to its chest, right where the heart should be located. Oddly enough, the dark armour seemed to be trying to grow over it, but the red crystal kept extending to prevent itself from being swallowed up completely. Another peculiarity was its head, which was the very depiction of a demon's head. The sharp elongated teeth seemed to be welded shut, with wisps of dark red smoke escaping from tiny unseen openings, enhancing the being's demonic appearance. Its ebony scales were as smooth as polish metal, despite the red glowing cracks that covered its skull. Four curved horns with uneven ridges extended from the back of its head, two grew from the top of the temples and one on each side where the ears would have been located on a human skull. If there was such a thing as the Devil in this world, this being before him was definitely it.

The demonic being tilted its head downward, even though there were no opening that indicated it had eyes, Haytham could feel the intense gaze directed at him, striking fear into his bones and choking him from the inside. Every fibre within his body warned him that this was a creature he could not defeat, while his instinct whispered urgently that he was a helpless prey before this being. The Templar's entire body seized up as his jaw tensed and lungs burned at the sudden arrest of airflow when the demon extended its clawed hand in his direction; an automated response that was ingrained in him to keep his reactions as subtle as possible. He was only able to breathe again when it turned its attention on the huge beasts that seemed to be cowering under its presence. A tension was building in the air as the monsters' gaze locked upon one another, then a heavy breath was heard and the bulky beasts charged forward, ignoring the presence of the human in favour of attacking the predator.

The Grandmaster was snapped out of his frozen state as fresh blood splattered across his face from a torn limb that had landed next to him. Gritting his teeth, Haytham quickly got up and started running, leaving the monsters to tear each other apart. Relying on his sixth sense to guide him, he did not dare to slow down as he took paths that lead upward. Along the way, he found more creatures devouring one another and eating the remains of the fallen. He knew what Alex had told him about the monsters gathered at the entrance of this vault, but with how chaotic things were, he could only hope that every living thing in here would be too distracted by the bigger preys than a lonesome skinny human. It was a sickening image, hellish would be accurate, with the once pristine halls coated in blood and entrails while screams of anger and cries of pain echoed from every corner.

Haytham cursed as he jumped onto the wall to reach for the beam above, avoiding the stampede of disfigured human beings. He grimaced at the horrible stench the sick beings carried, like cooked rot and unwashed bodies, poisoning the air with their mere presence. The mindless hoard continued to stretch their torn skeletal hands towards him, beckoning him to offer himself to them with groans and moans. Forcing back the bile that was tickling his throat, he quickly jumped towards the next beam as the creatures followed closely below, ignoring the throbbing pain on his mid-section. The British knew that he was forcing a lot on his taxing body, but he could not afford to take any easy path that was prowling with nightmarish creatures.

The pathway led to a huge chasm where the walls were covered in the weird fleshy material of the monsters, a spiralling pathway in broken segments circled around the cylindrical inner structure, cocoon-like sacs were hanging at the center by slimy appendages, some of them were broken, indicating that whatever twisted occupant inside them had escaped, though the seemingly endless abyss below would be what greeted them. Glancing up, hidden amongst the many ruby tendrils, Haytham could see a faint glow of sunlight at the top and hope that he was on the right track. It was just a question of reaching the exit safely. Thankfully, like some of the Precursor sites he had been or seen depictions of, there were plenty of blocky platforms, thin beams and spider-web cracks along the walls that provided him an alternative path to reach for the top instead of running through each level and packs of monsters, though the lumpy and slimy flesh that covered them might be problematic and he would be exposed in the opening, any creature could easily spot his ascend. He could only pray that none of the monsters had the ability to fly as he began his climb.

Good news was none of the creatures could fly... Bad news was many could climb and jump at great heights. A pack of new creatures had set their sight on him, they looked similar to the huge beings that had attacked him in his cell, though they were smaller and leaner, with sharp claws for fingers and toes obviously made for speed than endurance. Gritting his teeth in both frustration and exhaustion, Haytham climbed and jumped as fast and as far as his tiring body could, for he could not allow himself to fall now. He was forced to a halt as a shockwave hit, crouching down on the platform he was on and digging his fingers and heels into the disgusting flesh to find purchase. The monsters that were pursuing him sank their claws deep into flesh and stone as they too waited for the shaking to pass. There were unfortunate beings that did not have a steady footing and ended tumbling into the darkness below, the Templar grimaced at the horrid cries they emitted with their descent.

What in the world is going on now? Haytham's eyes darted from one direction to another, wondering if something had been triggered in this vault. He certainly hoped it wasn't anything like the temple in Arctic, for this whole island could easily sank with them in it.

The human flinched when an explosion occurred from below, causing another shockwave that nearly made him lose his grip. His and the creatures' attention were quickly drawn to the source of the noise, which was located on the other side, a few levels below them, where black smoke emitted and broken corpses laid hanging on the edge or in pieces. Haytham tensed up when he saw the demonic being stepped out from the smoke, all imposing and unscathed, and its gaze instantly snapped onto him once more. Was that thing after him? Why did it decide to target him?! Compared to the other monstrous beings, he should barely be considered as an amuse-bouche!

The monsters on the wall all turned to hiss at the new arrival, seemingly displeased that something interrupted their hunt. Haytham only spared a glance at the hissing creatures, wondering if it was possible to direct the demon's ire onto them, so that he could escape once more. He flinched when the nearest monster got imbedded by five long projectiles. Were those claws? They certainly looked like claws, if claws were as sharp as short twisted blades. Brown eyes went back towards the demon that got its hand extended towards the pinned corpse, he watched in slight fascination as new claws grew over the blunt fingers. That beast can launch its claws from such distance?!

The shocking thought soon snapped the Templar out of his stupor as the instinct to flee rushed through his veins once more. As if sensing his desire to run, the wall-climbing monsters turned towards him in unison. Haytham honestly started to abhor this damn hive! Why were all the creatures so obsessed with him?! The Grandmaster attempted to get into a better position to jump, but the thick slime coating his limbs made him lose his footing instead, his hands were desperately clawing the fleshy material before it was only air under his fingertips.

Everything happened too fast for his eyes to catch. One moment, he saw the whole pack pounced towards him with salivating mouths, and next he found himself slammed against the flesh-covered wall and a solid platform under him. He coughed from the shock as his brain slowly caught up with the fact that he was injured from the unexpected slam. Haytham was not sure if he should consider himself lucky or should he take a page from Hickey's book and just throw profanities at every damn monster for toying with him. If they wanted him dead, then make it quick and stop wasting time!

The Grandmaster straightened in fear as the demon landed on the platform he was sitting on, looming threateningly over him. His eyes caught sight of the moving tendrils on the demon's back that seemed to be crushing the struggling beasts. Were the tendrils eating them? Haytham paled at the sight of the monsters getting eaten alive bit by bit like Zeus did. It would definitely be his nightmare for the rest of the decade, if he survived. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, the demon crouched down before him, with its shoulders hunched and its head hang low, as if such acts would make it look less intimidating.

'What do you want?' Haytham demanded in annoyance. His mind was practically yelling and slapping him for the sheer gall he had to speak in such manner with a monster of all things, which he pointedly blamed on the head injury he had suffered. That or his reserve of patience got hit by a dry spell.

A faint growl sounded from the demonic being, though it almost sounded like an echo that came from within a deep cavern than a living creature. The demon tilted its head to the side as groans and gasps echoed from behind its sealed mouth. Was it clearing its throat?

'I... A... Ha... A...'

The Templar's brows furrowed in confusion as he caught the faint syllables the demon uttered. Was it trying to communicate with him? How... strange... The monsters he had encountered so far displayed only animalistic instinct and behaviours. None of them seemed sentient enough for speech or thought.

'Hay... Tham...'

It knew his name?! Why would it know his name?! Where did-Realization hit him like a hidden blade to the heart. It wasn't possible. It was simply impossible. His friend was dead. He saw his death happened with his own eyes. He got devoured alive! This demon could not be Zeus! It could not be the recently deceased Mentor Assassin!

'Alex?' Haytham whispered, fighting against hope, the hope that his companion was still alive in some form or manner, even as a monster...

The demon nodded in response.

It was such a small action. That nod could mean anything. It could also be a huge misunderstanding from his part, or even devil trickery from this sentient creature's part. Yet, his heart beat in relief and his panic mind quietened as the simple answer sank in. Unfortunately, this distraction gave pain the opening it needed to remind him of all his recklessness, starting with flares of pain that sparked from almost every inch of his body and then his vision failing him as everything became blurry.

Haytham bit back a curse, hating how his traitorous body decided to abandon him now. He hissed as he felt something burning hot on his skin, his mind barely registered that the demon-Alex held his head gently in his hand. His unfocused eyes were drawn to faint glimmer of amber-coloured light that could be seen through the cracks where the eye sockets should be. Was it the burning spirit of his friend shining deep within this demonic armour? Or hellfire crafted from his friend's undying hatred? He did not get the chance to ponder further as roars and growls sounded in the echoing chamber once more, reminding them that they were still stuck within a monster's lair.

His demonic friend's head snapped towards the source of the noises with a hiss, his body tensed and readied to pounce on anything that dared to approach them. Even with Alex's newly acquired body and immense strength, the Templar doubted they would be able to fight off hoards of monsters and they could easily be swarmed in the process.

'Couldn't you just tell them to leave us be?' Haytham murmured in exasperation. His comment earned him a blank stare, or was that glare for an eyeless face? Oddly enough, he found the tail to be far more expressive than its owner's face, the way its sharp tip shook in a manner that reminded him of the poisonous snakes that made rattling sounds with their tail. Wait... did he have a tail to start with?

His sluggish thoughts quietened as he watched the demon convulsed, an internal struggle seemingly began. Haytham pressed hard against the wall, watching with bated horror as something was clawing its way out of Alex's back. Did those monsters his friend had initially devoured were trying to break out?! He flinched as two elongated limb with dull claws at its tip burst out of the back, throwing chucks of bloody meats and splattering of indescribable matters everywhere. For once in his entire life, Haytham felt an immense need to bathe... thoroughly. The demon shivered slightly as the new limbs quivered before fully extending themselves to reveal huge leathery wings. Did devouring those monsters cause his friend to turn further demonic? The Grandmaster was not given the chance to ponder further as Alex quickly picked him up in his arms, as if he weighted nothing more than a child. Actually... HE WAS BEING CARRIED LIKE A BLOODY TODDLER!

'Wait... What are you doing? Put me down,' Haytham ordered. His demand was ignored and his monster of a friend moved closer to the edge of their platform. At the light flapping motions of Alex's newly acquired wings, blood was instantly drained from the Templar's body as realization hit him harder than an actual cannonball would. 'NO, NO, NO! DO NOT JUMP! YOU ARE NOT A BIRD! YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO FLY! SSSTTTOOOOPPPPPPP!'

Haytham was screaming bloody murder as he clung onto the demon's horned head with both arms, ignoring the annoyed growls he was getting as they were freefalling into the abyss. WHY DID ALEX THINK HE COULD BLOODY FLY BECAUSE HE GOT WINGS WAS BEYOND HIM! IF THEY DIED BECAUSE OF THIS, HE HOPED THERE WAS A HELL IN THE AFTERLIFE, BECAUSE HE WAS GOING TO MAKE SURE TO TORTURE HIM FOR ETERNITY THERE!

The old Templar scrunched his eyes shut as he awaited the inevitable death as the chaotic noises of the Hive grew louder in his ears. The dropping sensation of his internal organs stopped abruptly and they were performing flips as every part of his body seemed to be popping. Was this what dying from a fall felt like? He did not feel dead... Unexpectedly, he felt a huge gust of air hit his face and then... unexpected warmth caressed his skin. Slowly, the Grandmaster cracked open one eye and found that they were now high in the air, where the scent of salty ocean and the feel of gentle wind magically erased all the rotten smell and nightmarish wounds he had collected in Hell. His eyes were drawn to the setting sun in the distance, relief filled his heart as the fact that they had escaped from that monstrous lair sank in. A huff from the demonic being drawn the ire back up as he glared his friend's face (he was certain there was a smug look behind that impassive expression), it was so tempting to punch him for that fright he had given him, but they were still floating in the air, several hundred feet from the ground, so he held back his sharp words and reigned in the desire for physical retribution. Later. He promised to himself.

The sun's orange glow would have been a source of comfort if it didn't meant night's black shroud would soon descent upon them and the dark was not friendly to either of them, not with monsters prowling beneath them.

'There! Our boat!' Haytham pointed at the faint spot on the beach. It seemed like the monsters hadn't found it yet. Instead of drifting down towards the beach however, Alex's wings gave a strong flap and they were shooting through the air towards the ship instead. 'Wait! NO! DON'T!'

Too late, Alex had sent them straight towards the deck of Aura, hard. Apparently, flying up was a simple task, but landing had to be a complete disaster! He might have appreciated his friend using both his body and wings to shield him from their rough landing, which ended with them slammed through the main deck and into the tweendeck, but with how battered his body was, whatever appreciation he might have had was replaced by irritation.

'YOU IDIOT!' Haytham couldn't stop the shout or the punch he threw at the other's face, though he regretted that last action as his bones cracked upon impact. DAMN THIS BASTARD'S HEAVY SKULL! AS IF THIS IDIOT IS NOT TOUGHER THAN DIAMONDS BEFORE HIS TRANSFORMATION!

For a twice-be-damned Assassin, his friend was as subtle as cannonball! Hurried footsteps and panic shouts could be heard from above them, the Templar glared at his demon friend and flatly said, 'Now you've sent everyone into a frenzy.'

Alex's head tilted towards him with an air of annoyance before he... gave him his middle finger? What kind of hand sign was that supposed to be? Haytham wasn't given much chance to ponder further as someone shot him in the shoulder. At his painful cry, the demonic being quickly covered him with his body and his wings tightly wrapped around them, shielding them from the shots rained down upon them.

'STOP! CEASE FIRE!' Haytham cried out, but his weak voice was completely drowned out by the muskets and the shouts from the crew above them. His hand shakily tried to stem the bleeding, but his blood life was leaking freely from his new wound. A faint trill reached his ears and he weakly raised his head to stare at his friend who carefully covered his bloodied hand with his clawed one. Despite how blank his current face was, Haytham sensed the fear and anger emitting from Alex, though the fear was unexpected, a very foreign concept to pin on a fearless man who had decided to spit in the face of Death and come back as the Devil himself. The glow within the sealed eyes seemed to be burning brighter as the emitted trills grew louder.

'Alex? What are you doing?' the Grandmaster whispered, his body was shaking badly while his vision was getting blurrier. He was losing too much blood, but he knew something was wrong with Alex and clung onto the realm of consciousness, worried that the moment his eyes closed, the demon would go into a rampage and none of them would be left alive. Panic screams and eerie noises of viscera sounded above them as the trills from the demon turned into growls. 'Alex... Stop...'

His vision was pattered with black spots as he felt the burning hands of his demonic companion holding him closer. As if his actions would stop Death from claiming the Templar.

'Wisemen, move in. Quarantine procedure,' a male authoritative voice commanded.

Who?

Heavy footsteps could be heard rushing on the tweendeck as much as on the main deck, the same commanding voice started, 'Zeus, you gotta let go of him. He's bleeding out.'

Growls were the only response given.

'If you don't let us do our job, you're going to turn him before we can even try to save him, so let go. Now.'

The arms around him tightened slightly, but they soon loosened and Haytham could feel other hands on his body as someone carefully pulled him away from his companion. The Grandmaster could only tighten his fingers loosely over the burning clawed ones before they slipped away with his consciousness.

Waking up was unexpected. Haytham was almost certain that he wouldn't be able to open his eyes again when he had lost conscious. The lack of pain was also a surprise, though the numbness that hanged over his body was unpleasant to say the least, it was almost like a horrible hangover. Carefully, he tried to sit up, one hand quickly reached up to hold his head as a vertigo sensation fell upon it heavily. He pushed the uncomfortable sensation back to focus on his surroundings. He seemed to be back in the tiny room he was given aboard the vessel, or at least he assumed so, and the light that came in from the small opening told him it was midday at least. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, except the unusual lack of activities, he had travelled by ship enough time to know that it was never quiet during the day.

The Templar tensed up when the door of his room was opened and a woman stepped in. Haytham stared the stranger in surprise, not expecting to see a female sailor, seeing they were considered as either bad luck or baggage to sea captains, despite the fact that there were infamous female pirates. The woman was petite and young-looking, her pale skin was covered with faint reddish scars and the yellow colour of her hair looked so faded that it could be mistaken for white at first sight. What drew his attention the most were her eyes, they seemed to be a healthy earth shade at first glance, though the colour seemed a little muddled, rendering it into muddy red clay quality.

'Good to see you awake, Mister Kenway,' the woman greeted him with an easy smile, though her accent was not one he was familiar with. 'My name is Brigid and I am the doctor of the crew occupying this vessel.'

A female doctor? That was even rarer than female pirates, considering the prejudices in the medical society against women. The few who knew any sort of medical practices were regarded more as witches, seeing their methods were more archaic, either it was due to lack of official medical study or fund to buy proper medical supplies.

'Well met, Miss Brigid,' Haytham greeted back in return and watched as the woman set down some fresh clothes, with his hidden blade resting on top, and a covered lamp on the desk.

'I know that it's probably unusual for a woman to be a doctor in this time and age, but I assure you that I know what I am doing. If it makes you comfortable, I can tell you what I am going to do before we actually proceed and I promise I won't force you through anything that you are uncomfortable with,' Brigid stated calmly while her gaze held a shine of understanding in them. As if she, herself, had been forced through examinations she did not want and would not wish anyone else to suffer through what she had experienced.

Usually, the Templar would be wary of strangers and would outright refuse any aid they provided, especially when he was still uncertain of his current situation. If they were people who knew of Alex and had come to aid him, it would naturally mean that they were his enemies by default, but instead of ending his life, they had instead saved him and was making sure his health wasn't deteriorating. Could this mean that Alex was still in command? Despite his... Haytham supposed he could still give them the benefit of doubt until he saw the man, or... demon, again.

After the blonde had his consent of checking his health, she proceeded with her examination, and as she had promised she always explained what she would be doing and what she would be checking before they proceeded with anything. It was certainly unorthodox, not at all like what he had seen Church had done, such as asking him of his previous injuries and then odd questions like simple math, or tracking the movement of her finger with his eyes. Once they were done, Brigid announced that he was healing alright, there were no permanent damages from his head injury and he hadn't caught the sickness either.

'Where is Al–Zeus?' Haytham asked as he put on the clothes, feeling more refresh and partially safer with the familiar weight on his wrist. He wondered if any of his clothes had survived the ordeal or were they all burned to avoid the plague from spreading?

'He is discussing some matters with the Captain,' Brigid answered, patiently waiting beyond the door to give him the privacy of changing. 'I was asked to bring you to them as soon as you are healthy and conscious.'

'Very well, lead the way, miss,' Haytham said, straightening slightly as he settled back into his Grandmaster mindset. He wouldn't allow himself to show further weakness to strangers.

Instead of heading upward, Haytham was lead further below deck, almost to the bottom of the ship. Both of them stopped before the trapdoor to the lower deck.

'Sir, Mister Kenway has arrived,' the blonde announced clearly, her mannerism and body movement lost the laxness she carried during his examination A hardened solder now stood beside him instead of the kind healer. Without receiving any response, the woman went to open the trapdoor, revealing the steps that lead further into the dark, where an ominous red glow could be seen at its depth.

Haytham, despite the uncertainty brewing within him, took the first step into the unknown. His nose wrinkled slightly at the stench that hit his nostril, the same smell that came from the Hive. Once he reached the bottom, the first thing he took notice was the figure of a man holding a lantern at his side. He stood fearlessly close to a throbbing and glowing organ at the far end of the hull, said organ seemingly growing out of a figure sitting cross-legged on the floor. The Templar felt his heart jumped into his throat at the morbid sight, wondering if the disease was consuming his friend again.

'Grandmaster Haytham Kenway I presume,' the man started without turning to face him, his gaze seemingly fixed on the dormant being.

'I am,' Haytham responded warily as he studied the stranger. Despite the heavy coat the man was wearing, his figure and stance reminded him of an army commander, one who had fought many battles and whose experience had been honed through many hardships. Definitely not someone he could underestimate, but this man was no Assassin, he did not have the ait that usually came from training with their signature weapon. An allied mercenary perhaps? That wouldn't make sense, Alex still had his mercenary friend in England and none of his informants had caught any wind of a new alliance.

'I am no Assassin if that is what you are worried about. Templars, Assassins. Neither truly matters when humanity is in danger,' the stranger continued, as if reading his thoughts.

Haytham frowned lightly at the last words. Humanity was in danger? What was he talking about?

The man finally turned to face him, the light from his lantern providing enough clarity to see his features. Greying slick-back hair on top of a worn and hardened face, a stern expression carved out of stone with dark green eyes that promised a tempest was revealed to him.

'Robert Cross, ally of Zeus,' Cross introduced himself, tilting his head slightly towards the frozen demonic figure at the latter part of his introduction. Haytham wondered if it was even possible for the Mohawk to come back out as a human.

'I need to speak with my men about our charted course, I shall leave both of you to your discussion,' Cross suddenly announced as he moved to leave.

'Wait, Zeus is–'

'Do not worry. He can hear you just fine, though regaining his speech is a slow process.'

Haytham certainly doubted that the infected Assassin could hear him from within that thick skull of his and his bandaged hand definitely throbbed in agreement, but the captain had already left without a second glance, plunging the hull into semi-darkness with the added weight of a dead silence.

With a heavy sigh, Haytham sat down on the floor, dropping the act of a healthy appearance. He shot a glare at the demon as he muttered, 'You land us in a fine mess, Alex.'

Tension rose on his shoulders when a faint flicker of fire lit behind the sealed eyelids, indicating that his words were heard by this friend. 'First, the damn den of monster, second your...' He made a weak gesture at Alex's current state. 'Transformation... and finally we are under the care of an unknown group of allies. Is there anything else I SHOULD know before one of us TRULY dies because the other is withholding information?'

An echoing grunt was heard while the horned head kept jerking unnaturally as Alex seemed to be struggling to speak while his body refused to obey to his command. He made an exaggerated act of sighing before he shook his head in response.

'Are you CERTAIN?' the older male demanded, mistrust colouring his voice plainly.

The eyes burned at his words and the steeled body jerked forward, though it immediately stopped at the ugly squeal made by the sack-like organ at the rough tug. The familiar body language of displeasure was made as Alex forced himself to remain still, though he made certain to display his ire through his intense gaze, making the glow behind his eyelids bright enough to look like he had his eyes opened.

'You deserve much of my ire Alex,' Haytham countered without flinching at the murderous aura emanating from the demonic figure. 'As I have told you, I have been quite patient with you and have allowed you to keep your secrets, but this incident has proven to me that you are quite horrible in sharing them. Not to mention, you only share the tiniest bit of information even when we are in mortal danger!' The Grandmaster didn't care he was rising his voice or the fact that someone could overhear him. 'You almost left your son behind! Your family! AND I WOULD HAVE BEEN THE ONE WHO WILL HAVE TO INFORM THEM OF YOUR DEATH!'

He bit his lips to keep himself from shouting any more words as he turned away from Alex, struggling to calm himself as images of fire and blood danced in his vision while a cold sensation sank deep into his bones. Perhaps it wasn't wise on his part to be so confrontational with Alex when he had just regained consciousness and his body was still healing from the trauma. Traumas... right... Maybe it was more correct to say that he had never actually healed from anything and was just ignoring the pain long enough to be numb about them. Unfortunately, what had happened in that Hive had dug out too many things he had not confronted for a long time, but ultimately, their roots were all the same, death and abandonment. It might be truer if he named it simply as abandonment, but there was a difference to him. Death was an abandonment that was caused by elements that were outside of anyone's control while abandonment was a chosen choice, something his mother had taught him early on.

'You really need to stop thinking you are invincible, you are not the deity Zeus, but you certainly have his arrogance,' Haytham continued, needing to keep talking to ignore the voices that stemmed from his insecurities.

A deep scoff was heard, earning the owner of said scoff another glare. The demonic being returned the glare with the blankest expression in the entire world, though in Haytham's point of view, it screamed the idiom of the pot calling the kettle black.

'Don't give me that look,' the Templar muttered as he averted the gaze. 'I think the shock hasn't worn off yet, so I am... sentimental as you've said.'

An inquisitive tilt of the head was his response.

The Grandmaster felt his years catching up to him, the tiredness was snaking through his bone marrows and hollowness was howling within his fractured heart. Perhaps he should see this as an opportunity, while Alex could not technically move and his mouth was more or less sealed shut, a chance to... confess he supposed.

'When I was a child... I was told that my father was a proud Templar of the Order who was murdered for his Precursor knowledge and my family was fractured because of this. My sister was taken by the attackers and my mother... the death of my father and the sight of me stained in blood... had left me in the care of Reginald Birch. It wasn't until years later that I learned the whole truth from my sister, after chasing every lead I could find on her whereabouts and wholeheartedly committing myself to the Order. The very Templar Order I was inducted in was the one behind the death of my father, the kidnapping of my sister and the complete destruction of my family, all under the order of Reginald Birch. Because my father, Edward Kenway, was an Assassin and the secrets of the Precursors he held brought death to our doorsteps.'

A gentle trill sounded. Despite no words were said, the questioning aspect of the sound was heard, though he did question if the other also had the intention to be... comforting.

'I got my vengeance Alex... We got our vengeance against the man who had broken my family, but... I cannot forsake the Order I have devoted my life to and the Creed of the Assassins holds very little sway to me. I never got to truly know my father, nothing but the image I had of him as a child. Learning the truth made him a total stranger in my mind.' Haytham stared deep into the amber gaze. 'So don't repeat the same mistake and get yourself killed. No children should see their parents as utter strangers and fill with regret to have never known them.'

Surprisingly, his friend was the first to break eye contact with him, turning his head away from him, with his posture displaying a thoughtful look. Good, perhaps there would be one less father who never got the chance to tell his truth, his story to his child. Haytham closed his eyes in slight contentment. It was also... liberating... to share this piece of his own history with someone. Jennifer was spiteful on bad days and overly cordial on most, so neither of them had ever uttered a word of comfort to each other nor would they share the tribulations they had gone through. Sharing it with Alex was perhaps foolishness on some levels, but with everything that had happened, he felt that this knowledge he offered to the other would be safe and guarded.

A crack echoed deafeningly in the hull, making Haytham opened his eyes in surprise, though what happened utterly stunned him. A demented version of a butterfly breaking out of a chrysalis unfolded before him, the demonic body fractured like brittle stone and out came a featureless wet body with bloody red lines covering ashen skin. The figure fell to the floor with a thud, limbs flopping in a fish-like manner while it released a series of choked coughs, fluid spilling forth from its mouth. The Templar quickly scrambled away before the fluid could hit him, not wanting to risk any type of accidental infection, as he watched the body started to shift.

The sickly pale skin darkened to a healthy tan, raven hair rapidly grew from the bald head and the body moulded into a broad figure one. The figure unsteadily got onto its hands and knees, letting out heavy pants as clothes started to cover the skin. When it lifted its head, familiar features were settling over faceless, only the eyes betrayed the inhuman quality, for they were glowing bright red, much like the lines that were still visible despite the clothing. A few blinks later, the redness in the eyes faded until only normal white sclera and chocolate-coloured irises remained.

Alex looked down on his arms as he sat back, studying the lines with a critical eye. 'That's new.'

A pinched expression fell over the Native's face, causing the lines to dim until they were no longer visible. 'Okay, better.'

'Is everything alright now?' was Haytham's careful inquiry.

'Yes, I am more or less back to normal,' Alex confirmed with an exhausted sigh.

'Good to know.'

CRACK!

'BLOODY HELL!' Haytham cursed loudly as he broke his injured hand's bones once more. He knew he shouldn't have thrown that punch, but damn, it was difficult to just swallow the laxness the other was displaying after everything that had happened.

'Shit... I didn't even feel that...' Alex perplexed as he lightly traced the area where he was punched. The astonishment instantly evaporated when Haytham opted to use his hidden blade. 'Woah! Hey! Hey! Hey! Stop escalating things Haytham!'

'Oh, I'm the one escalating things, am I?' the Templar hissed out, his anger kept the pain away as he was vindictive enough to be solely focus on maiming his friend. That nonchalance was grating him horribly. This wasn't normal. His friend had just died and then he came back as a monster. Surprise, fear and worry. Those were what the other should be feeling. Yet... why was he the only one who was feeling them?

The Assassin easily overpowered him and pinned his hands to the floor by his sides, half looming over him in a threatening manner. His face twisted into an animalistic frown as he demanded that he stopped struggling, causing Haytham to instinctively freeze at his command. Part of him was still uncertain how much humanity remained in his friend and it was getting apparent that Zeus' wilder side was further enhanced since his metamorphose. How could one reason with a beast? Would a beast even acknowledge whatever frail bond they had?

A heavy weight on his shoulder pulled the Grandmaster out of his wayward thoughts, his body stiffened further when he realized that Zeus was resting his head on him. Haytham blinked owlishly at the unusual behaviour as his brain tried to figure out what play the other was playing.

'Stop thinking so loudly,' Alex muttered, not moving an inch from his position. 'It's annoying.'

An infuriated frown settled over Haytham's face as his mouth moved to protest, though the words died in his throat when he noticed subtler signs. The tiny trembles from tensed shoulders and the furnace heat emanating from the stone solid body. Perhaps it was unfair of him to think that Alex was unaffected by the ordeal.

'I've told you that it was a bad idea to mess with this monster story...'

'You did,' Haytham acquiesced.

'Now you know why it is for the best that you leave it alone. Leave all of it on that forgotten island.'

The Grandmaster remained silent at that. Unsure if there was anything he could say about that. To think that the Precursors could harbour such horrible secrets, secrets that should be best left buried and forgotten, for there was no enlightening knowledge to be discovered or powerful artefacts that would bring their goal closer to fruition. What they had unearthed was Pandora's Box, the horrors it contained must never be released. He shuddered to even imagine the state of the world if those beasts were unleashed upon humanity, but... wasn't he allowing one to return to civilization now?

Haytham pondered on that thought briefly before he dismissed it. While there were still several matters that spelled uncertainty, he could believe in one thing, the fact that Alex remained. Changed, yes, but ultimately, he was still the same stubborn and hard-headed man he came to know. Beast or not, Alex's motive was always simple, nothing overly complicated or muddled. Harm what he cared and face the deadly consequence, for he would hunt you to the end of the Earth for your crime.

'Why didn't you leave me there? It's not like it is part of your obligation to save me. I do believe you have mentioned that I shouldn't expect your rescue.' Then again, it wasn't exactly the first time the Assassin had done something that went the complete opposite of what he had promised, but the Templar was certain that whatever leniency that held him from grabbing his throat and snapping his neck singlehandedly should had expired by now. Even if the excuse was old age, he did not look like he had grown much over these years, if any.

The Mohawk hummed softly at his question. Was Alex feeling drowsy? How... peculiar.

'I think I rather keep you alive a little longer,' came the sleepy mumble.

'Like a pig you want to fatten before the slaughter?' was Haytham's morbid inquiry.

'Nah, you'll always be too skinny for my teeth,' the other jested lightly. Haytham could feel the teasing smirk when the lips accidentally touched his bare skin, a burning hot brand that scarred him deeply. 'Just stay alive... until it's time to pay your dues.'

That was the most ambiguous answer he had ever heard in his life. Before Haytham could voice anything else, the Mohawk had already started moving and...

'What are you doing?' the Grandmaster demanded incredulously as the other got comfortable over his legs, like an overgrown cat.

'I need to rest my eyes a bit and you feel cool,' Alex answered sleepily, completely oblivious of the damage he had done to the Templar's mentality, a bombardment that utterly rendered everything into a wasteland.

By the time Haytham had snapped out of his stupor, the Assassin was already sound asleep and a complete deadweight over his lower body. The Templar covered his face with one hand, pointedly ignoring how heated his cheeks felt. No, no, he was not embarrassed. The one embarrassment in this ship was the Mohawk who had unashamedly draped himself over his legs like a lazy cat. His fingers shifted slightly to allow his eyes to gaze down at the defenceless Assassin, the arm that held the hidden blade was resting over the sleeping man's shoulder. He just needed to move a tiny bit and the blade would slide into the man's spine, a little more would be his neck or maybe even his head, ending this terror of a man. With a groan, his fingers covered his sight once more, a physical barrier to keep the tempting thought away. Or a foolish one, for he doubted killing Alex was even a simple matter anymore. Who knew if the man was even mortal anymore, he doubted his blade would leave any lasting damage.

If Alex had became a living Precursor weapon, then only another Precursor weapon might vanquished him, but did he really want to end him? That was the question that plagued him the most. Besides the fact that he was a Templar, a Grandmaster at that, his friend had became one of the very monsters that could end the world. There were so many reasons that urged him to eliminate this threat, but again and again, he found himself suppressing them and irrationally changed his plans to keep his sworn enemy alive. Perhaps the truth was he did not want to lose the only connection he had left of Ziio, the only person in the world who was connected to a period of his life when he was actually happy. Maybe Alex shared the same thought, so he held back from killing him time and again.

'Oh Father of Understanding, we are both turning into sentimental old fools,' Haytham whined, wishing he could go to sleep as well. He rather processed this embarrassment while unconscious than facing the full blunt of it on his lonesome!