Jacob slips in through an open window and surveys the interior of the Steel Foundry. It's a cacophony of noise assaulting his every sense, the stench of something not quite identifiable filling his nose. Just then, an even louder crash echoes through the building – and a scream follows it.

Immediately, Jacob's eyes follow the source of the sound, quickly finding the boy pinned under a massive steel plate. His gaze hardening, Jacob steps forward, hopping lightly down from the balcony towards the child. Two other men on the ground below rush forward at the same time to heave the weight off the boy. Evie's voice fills his head. No deviations from the mission. Oh, sod that.

But. Jacob is halted, but it's because the door at the other side of the foundry has clanged open, and a red-faced, stout man storms in.

"How long does he intend to go on like this?" He roars, expression furious. "He's disrupting the other workers!"

One of the workers approaches timidly. "Mr… Mr Ferris, sir. He's—"

This foreman fixes the man with a withering glare which immediately silences him. "Shut. Him. Up. And dock his wages!"

"Yes – yes sir."

"And get me some laudanum for my head," Mr. Ferris calls over his shoulder, and just as abruptly as he entered, he leaves, slamming the door shut behind him.

Coming right up, Jacob smirks to himself, casting one more glance towards the boy – the two workers have gotten the metal plate off him, and one of them allows the boy to lean on him as they lead him away. Jacob watches them go, his stomach churning. He has to sort this out.

Off he goes, moving on the upper levels towards the door, but before he can get there, another worker moves up to it and gingerly tries the handle. Evidently, it's locked, and the man's shoulders slump.

"Oi. New fella," calls another worker from somewhere below Jacob. "No one goes in'r out, 'less there's a problem, 'see?"

The 'new fella' gives a sigh and returns to his station. Well. That changes things.

New plan. Hm. Jacob's gaze rakes around the building. No one goes in or out unless there's a problem… well, well. Shall we create one?

With practised ease, Jacob quickly scales up onto the catwalk and, finding the lever, begins to turn it. Immediately, steam is released around the building, sending the workers below scattering with shouts. But that's not enough. There has to be something… bigger. His gaze settles on another wheel.

Perfect. With that, Jacob finds himself a perch over the door – and sure enough, it bangs open again to let in a stocky guard in a tattered red and brown coat, who immediately begins yelling at the workers, asking what the bloody hell the problem was, to get back to work. Jacob drops down with ease, landing squarely on the man's shoulders – the bloke goes down with a grunt, and Jacob quickly uses the momentum to knock him out. He lifts his finger to his lips silently, winking at the workers watching in astounded, fearful silence.

And with that, Jacob walks out the door.

Well, now, it can't have been that easy. And he's right; his presence is immediately noted by more guards, who'd been lazily standing by. Not in a position to see the body, thankfully.

"Who're you?" Grumbles one of them, pushing himself up on a crate and trying not to look like he'd been asleep.

"The sanitary inspector," Jacob returns smartly. "You've a dead body in there," he jabs his thumb in the general direction of the door behind him, giving them all what he hopes is a convincing smile.

Of course, a sanitary inspector would not be smiling at the prospect of a dead body. Not unless he were particularly excited to be doing his job. Still, it's a distraction, and that's all Jacob needs. Though all three guards are still wary, the first bloke approaches anyway, quickly, hand on his hip where Jacob can see the poorly concealed gun.

"Outta me way," barks the man, shoving past Jacob to step into the foundry… and that's when Jacob strikes. With the familiar snnk, the hidden blade springs from the gauntlet, and Jacob jams it into the man's back easily. The poor sod lets out a cry, but Jacob ignores this and swings him back around, throwing him into the second man, who'd been halfway towards drawing his gun with a shout.

The gun goes skittering across the uneven pavement, and Jacob hooks his leg around the man's ankles, easily throwing him off-balance… and with another rapid slash, the man is done. Now, the third one. He's farther away, and has already drawn his gun. That's all Jacob could register before his Sight screams DANGER!

He ducks out of the way, and the bullet whizzes past his face. Heart pounding, Jacob rolls, sliding to his feet, drawing a throwing dagger that Evie had given him, launching it with deadly precision… and it strikes home. The man goes down.

Too close, Jacob kicks himself, brushing off his clothes and straightening his cowl. From there, it's easy to retrieve the throwing dagger from the dead man, and he continues on, far more wary now that the gunshot has probably alerted everyone in the vicinity.

It's true; but he takes care of the blokes who come to investigate quickly, giving them no time to think, let alone raise another alarm. And so it is that after weaving through the mess of a factory yard for what feels like hours, Jacob eventually finds himself pointed to Mr. Ferris's office – and as it so happens, the path takes him right through another maze of a foundry building, only this time it's far warmer, and he can feel the heat from the furnaces radiating up to envelop him as he moves silently along the wall, eyes fixed on the office to his right – his Sight pulsing, insistent, dull gleams marking out the two people within the office. One of them is Ferris, he's certain of it… and a quick entrance through the skylight that has foolishly been left open proves it so. Now, the man is below him, dictating a letter to who Jacob assumes to be his secretary.

"Take this down. Dear sir; I'm pleased to inform you that I have managed to secure a source of iron –"

Whatever he was going to finish with is lost when Jacob lands atop him, driving the blade into the man's back as he crumples.

Jacob steps off him and turns the spasming man over. "It is done." He growls. Both men ignore the secretary's screams.

"W… what did you accomplish, boy?" Ferris wheezes out, eyes hazily focused on him. "'S a bolt… nothin' more than 'at… loosened in Starrick's machine. Not enough."

Jacob frowns. "Your grandmaster will fall."

Ferris lets out a gurgled cackle. "You assassins. Circle London to your heart's content – you're… too weak. London's ours and will be for thousands of years t' come."

"We'll take it." It sounds like an empty threat, but Jacob clenches his fists tightly and draws himself up taller anyway.

Another wheezing cackle. "What? From Croydon? Yer a coward, lurking—" his words are broken up by hacking coughs, and Jacob watches with disgust as the man sputters. "Lurking. Lurking in your shadows. I doubt it."

Anger, burning. Jacob releases the blade and draws it across the man's throat, and just like that – Ferris is done. He takes the white handkerchief from his jacket and draws it across the blood, glaring at the crimson staining the stark white.

But the secretary's screams haven't gone unnoticed, it seems, and Jacob realises that while he was distracted, she'd fled for help. He can hear the stomping of running feet coming towards him. There is no time to think; he runs, flexing his fists as he rounds the corner – and bowls straight into one of two guys coming the other way.

He reacts instantly, slamming his fist into the man's face. The bloke drops immediately, and there is fresh blood staining Jacob's glove. The other is too slow to draw his gun, and it is all too easy to trip him up, expertly knocking him out.

But the commotion has alerted other guards. Jacob narrows his eyes, peering out into the dim red glow that lights up the foundry. Too many guards. With no options left, Jacob whirls around and races up the stairs away from the office, weaving through confusing hallways until – finally. Daylight. He squints in the assault of light. He's emerged on a loading bay above the train tracks, the cranes roaring. He almost doesn't hear the shouts of his pursuers behind him.

The train is pulling out.

There is no time to think.

Jacob leaps…

And it is a perfect landing, the slightest sting stabbing at his calves as he hits the train roof.

"GET HIM!" Screams a guard above him, brandishing a nasty looking knife at the assassin being whisked away by a Templar train. The victorious smirk fades off Jacob's face when a group of guards jump from the platforms. Blimey, this is difficult.

As he thinks that, he hears the scuff of the boot behind him, even above the wail of the train whistle, and he narrowly dodges the clumsy strike that would have clobbered the back of his head.

Smile now replaced with a frown, Jacob whips around and drives his fist into the man's neck. The punch isn't as powerful as he'd intended, but it still make his assailant stumble… and slip…

Before the man can regain his balance, Jacob barrels into him. The scream is cut off by the wind as the train keeps trundling onwards.

A loud BANG splits the air, and Jacob's breath hitches in his throat to sense the bullet fly inches from his face, his senses sparking to life as he turns. The rest of the guards are closer now, and he feels his expression settle into another frown.

"Right," he says brightly. "Who's next?"

With matching roars of rage, four of them charge forward, leaving the last two behind to reload their guns. Jacob's eyes narrow, and he flexes his fists, relishing the sound of the blade as it engages, sharp enough to be heard over the cacophony. The first guard swings, but the train rattles and the man stumbles, leaving Jacob to easily sidestep the punch and drive his blade into the man's armpit when he overextends. A swift kick and that guard disappears over the edge of the roof after his fallen companion.

The next has wasted no time in darting forward when Jacob was mid-kick, and though the assassin narrowly dodges the knife, the third Templar has the sense to strike from behind – or rather, grab, the brute hooking his arms around Jacob in a crushing bear hug. Jacob grunts, thrashing in the strong hold – but the other bloke staggers at him, knife raised.

Well. That's not good. Jacob's struggles had halted for the moment it'd taken to register it, but now he slams his head backwards, hearing a distinct snap. The brute howls – broken nose – but his grip doesn't fail, rather it tightens, and the bloke with the knife is getting closer and—

Jacob hooks one leg around the brute's ankle and tugs. Jacob and the brute go down in a tangle of limbs, and the Templar screams in pain as the knife intended for Jacob sinks into his own shoulder. Jacob's lungs scream for air, and he kicks the brute off him, leaving the injured man to scamper backwards on all fours, clutching at the knife still embedded in his shoulder. But there is still one more Templar – and he aims a vicious kick at the assassin, who only narrowly manages to roll clear of the kick.

"My turn," Jacob gasps, grabbing at the man's outstretched leg and yanking. The Templar trips and landed heavily on his back, and Jacob scrambles to his feet, catching, out of the corner of his eye, the sight of the two templars further back taking aim. He has no time. He steps backwards, grabbing the collar of the scrawny Templar who'd tried to stab him. Moments later, the shots rings out – and the Templar jerks as the bullets slam into him.

Distantly, Jacob hears them shout to hold fire, but it's too late, and he allows the now-limp body to fall from his grasp and back to the train roof. They're fumbling to reload again, barking orders at each other, screaming about how they'd shot one of their own. Jacob grits his teeth and deftly sprints forward, sparing a second to boot the other Templar off the roof as he moves by.

They see him coming. They are the last two. One of them ditches the attempt to reload and instead reaches for a knife, but the other snaps the barrel of the gun shut and levels it at Jacob. His senses scream danger and he dodges the first bullet – and is upon the man before the second can leave the chamber. He drives his fist into the man's face, breaking his nose, and shoves the gun-arm towards the Templar's companion. The gun fires not even a second later, bullet hitting the other Templar.

Reeling from the attack, the Templar with the gun tries to go for his knife – but Jacob shoves him off the roof of the train too, delivering a swift kick to the second gunner. Their matching screams grate on his ears as he watches them hit the ground hard. One of them doesn't get up again. Jacob glances around, clenching his fists – now bloody. There are no more Templars on the train, but—

He sees the carriage at the same moment a stray bullet flies past him. Reflexively, he ducks, and the motion saves him from a second bullet.

The carriage carries a whole group of them, clinging to the sides as they fire wildly. None of the bullets come close, after that, though.

"Lost your bottle, boys?" Jacob shouts across, giving a wave. They shouts obscenities right back, and the driver spurs the horses on faster. He watches them gain speed over the train easily, the horses screaming in terror.

That is when he sees the switches. Oh?

One of the Templars is handed a wooden bat. He raises it over his head, and Jacob can only watch as the bat comes down… and hit the levers. It snaps, but it flicks them, and the train veers sharply to the other track not ten seconds later. He hears the squealing of brakes as the confused train driver tries to slow the train, to return back to the course his bosses want him on.

But moments later, Jacob watches the driver leap from the cab. What…?

Oh.

The tracks are heading right towards a collapsed bridge.

The train is on those very same tracks. He watches the blur of a train driver whiz past him and starts towards the cab – but quickly realises that he has to jump, too.

But just as he makes to do just that, the dirt path changes to jagged rocks. He stops in his tracks, searching wildly ahead for a space to safely jump. Nothing.

Jacob swears as he turns on his heel and starts racing the opposite way, praying his boots don't lose traction on the polished roof as he hops from the first carriage to the next one.

The train lurches. He's not going to make it. The carriage beneath him tilts, and it's only through leaping to catch the edge that he doesn't fall into the firey inferno below. But even that is short-lived, because the carriage is still falling. Panic fueling his movements, Jacob launches himself forward, this time bursting through the door of the next carriage, propelling himself past the crates that slide towards him, threatening to crush him. Move, move, MOVE!

Ahead of him, or rather almost above him now, he watches, as if in slow-motion, the couplers between this carriage and the next one buckle…

And snap.

Jacob's foot finds the very edge of the carriage and he leaps, only barely catching the doorframe and frantically pulling himself up. But the new carriage is falling, too, and he yelps as he's thrown upwards – slamming against the opposite side of the carriage as the space where he'd been moments before crumples with hitting the other carriages.

It tumbles, tossing Jacob around and around as he scrabbles fruitlessly for purchase – and then with a final groan it settles upside down, leaving Jacob breathless, lying on his back on the ceiling of the carriage. Which is now the floor. He groans, a mirthless chuckle escaping him as, with a wince, he carefully sits up. He'll be turning several interesting shades of blue and purple in the next few days, that's for sure, but nothing seems to be broken. Well, maybe his pride.

He scoots over to the door, climbing through it.

Maybe next time I'll walk.

He dusts his clothes off and began the tedious job of picking his way out of the blaze.

open . spotify playlist / 2CXQFjTmj3Dtt5PDTd7Uoi?si=f25e7acab8464ee8

^^ Chapters Two & Three playlist