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Chapter Text

10 November 1938 – Berlin, Nazi Germany

I could feel the heat from the flames around me. I felt the cold sweat pouring down my face as confidence and pride were replaced by rage. I could hear them shouting and screaming as I swirled and slashed. I was surrounded by armed men swinging and aiming their weapons at me. I didn’t know how many I killed. As soon as one fell, I’d turn my attention to another. I thought it would never end, and that I would be stuck there forever at midnight on the burning streets of Berlin, killing and spilling blood. Unwittingly, my mind went back in time and thought,

How did we get here?

Just an hour before, I had been awoken by the sound of glass shattering down on the street. I woke up and rushed to the window, and my brother Karl followed not long after. A group of young men were throwing bricks into Mr. Nichelsberg’s shop across the street. When Mr. Nichelsberg himself came out to confront them, he barely dodged the brick they threw at him. And then he was down on the pavement, being kicked and beaten. I could hear Mrs. Nichelsberg screaming from inside the store. And then father came. He didn’t do anything, and it seemed for a while that they were only talking. “I’m going down there,” said my brother as he rushed out of the room. I was about to do the same when the hooligans ran away and father brought the Nichelsbergs to our house. But what we saw was just the beginning.

Everything went by in a flash. I ran downstairs after Karl and found my father sitting by the telephone in the living room. His face was serious, and his eyes were fixed on it, waiting for it to ring at any moment. Karl and I stood near the doorway, looking uncertainly between him and mother tending to the Nichelsbergs in the kitchen. We asked him what was going on, but he told us to go back upstairs and sleep.

Even though we didn’t want to, we did. We knew better than to argue against him in such a situation. But we couldn’t sleep. While Karl sat by the door to see if he could hear anything downstairs, I stayed by the window and looked at the night sky. When we were awoken, the sky was black and dotted with stars. But as time passed by, red and orange rose above the horizon. But it wasn’t the sun; it was the light of the fires burning across the city. I could see pillars of smoke rising high, covering the stars in a thick blanket of grey.

Not long afterwards, Uncle Rudolf came by. At first, I couldn’t see him come down the unlit street, but eventually I was able to make him out in the darkness. He was wearing his black coat with his hood pulled up, almost indistinguishable from his surroundings. He knocked, the door opened, and he went in without a word.

I kept my eyes on the horizon while Karl put his ear to the floor to try and listen to what they were talking about. And then we heard father raise his voice, and I ran over to Karl. We couldn’t make out what it was, but father was angry. We decided we could no longer just sit and wait, and we rushed downstairs again to find father in the midst of a heated debate with Uncle Rudolf.

“Damn it, Ernst!” shouted Uncle Rudolf at my father. “The Council told us to stay put. There’s nothing we can do. There are too few of us left.”

“It is exactly because the Council refuses to do anything that this is happening in the first place! How could we not know that this was going to happen? Not even an inkling?”

“I understand that you-”

Uncle Rudolf’s words were cut short by our arrival in the living room.

“Boys,” said Uncle Rudolf in greeting. He smiled, but I could see that he was in no smiling mood.

“What’s happening, papa?” I asked father. He sighed.

“It’s the Nazis,” he said, as he turned around and faced the living room window. “They’re out on the street. Their soldiers, the Sturmbateilung. They’re destroying Jewish shops, houses, synagogues, everything. They’re setting fire to them and beating up the people.”

“What? Why would they do that?” I asked, confused.

“If only we knew. But the Assassin Council refuses to send us in. Instead, they’re telling us to stay put and keep low.”

“What do you want to do, Ernst? Rush out and kill as many of them as you can? Blades slashing and guns blazing? There are less than a dozen of us left in Berlin. You know that very well.”

“So, what now? We stand here and watch as the city burn, and innocent people’s lives are ruined? Let them die at the hands of those Hurensohne?”

To that, Uncle Rudolf was silent. He seemed conflicted, and reluctant to say what he was about to say. “We have no other choice.”

Father stayed silent too, and just stared at Uncle Rudolf.

“Well, I can’t. To hell with the Council. I’m not going to stand by and just watch. I’m going out there.”

At that moment, mother, who had been listening from the kitchen, came in and asked what my father was going to do. They argued, but father’s mind was set.

Suddenly Karl spoke up. “I’ll go too.”

My mother’s expression turned to one of pure terror. She shouted that she would not allow it. But my father said he was old enough and that if he wishes to go, he should go. I didn’t want to be left out, didn’t want to be the only one just sitting around and doing nothing, and so I announced my intention to go too. But if I expected my father to say the same thing, I was completely disappointed.

“No, you won’t. You’re too young, and your training isn’t complete. You will stay here and protect your mother and the Nichelsbergs.”

“But, pap-”

“I’ll go too,” said Uncle Rudolf. “I don’t agree with what you’re doing, but it doesn’t sit well with me to just stay here and watch while you and Karl go out there fighting against these bastards.” He told mother not to worry and that he’d keep them safe.

And so, they left; father, Karl, and Uncle Rudolf. I was left alone, gaping in the hallway while mother went back to the Nichelsbergs. I felt frustrated, being treated like a kid and not being trusted to be able to go out and do what I was born to do. I was only a few years younger than Karl, and my training was almost complete. Father had always taught me to do the right thing and to not shrink away from danger if it was to do the right thing, but now I was being told to stay away. I didn’t want to. I couldn’t.

I ran upstairs and changed. I put on my coat, pulled up my hood, and fastened my twin hidden blades. I ran downstairs as fast as I could. I made sure that mother was still in the kitchen, and that she couldn’t see me. I opened the door quietly and ran in the direction they had left.

I caught up to them and followed them at a distance. I stuck to the shadows and walked as silently as I could, just as I had been trained. For the most part, they didn’t fight. They only helped get those who had been hurt to safety, and sometimes they’d intimidate some unarmed hooligans so that they’d run away. Once or twice, father and Uncle Rudolf had been forced to defend themselves and fight on the streets.

Finally, they came on a unit of Sturmabteilung in the middle of beating up an old man on the street. What seemed to be his shop was burning behind him, and his wife and children were being kicked about on the pavement as they cried and screamed. Father, Karl, and Uncle Rudolf came to them and asked them to leave. They scoffed and laughed at the request. I could see seven of them, and they seemed to have been confident in the fact that they outnumbered them.

Three of them started moving around my father, flanking him on two sides. They talked and taunted, but they didn’t attack. When my father showed no signs of moving or going back, they had had enough. One who seemed to be their leader pounced on him, but my father moved out of his way as if it was nothing and the soldier fell face first onto the street. They continued like that for a while, them attacking my father from all sides and him dodging and sometimes getting a punch or kick in.

Eventually, only my father and their leader remained standing. His two comrades had been pulled away by the others, beaten and unable to continue fighting. My father didn’t get hit even once, while his opponent was already a mess. But he refused to back down, out of pride or disbelief I didn’t know. For a few moments, none of them spoke and neither attacked. They just kept moving, circling each other, as if both of them were trying to find some weakness in the other.

And then he rushed and tried to get a hit on father’s face, but my father caught his hand before he could. My father pushed him off, and he fell again onto the street. Karl was laughing, while the soldiers were trying to look away in embarrassment. Father was saying something, and I moved as close as I could to hear what he was saying.

“Leave. You’re proving nothing by doing this.”

Their leader was still lying down on the street. He didn’t lift his head. He was looking at the asphalt, probably embarrassed or brimming with anger at having his pride injured. He lifted his head a little and turned to look at my father. And then in a flash, he had a gun out and was aiming at my father. My heart jumped as the shot rang out.

Crack!

My father wasn’t standing where he was. He had dodged the bullet and rushed towards him. The gun had fallen onto the street and my father was twisting their leader’s hands so that he was screaming in pain. One of the soldiers who was watching took out his own gun and was about to aim it at my father, when he felt a cold, sharp blade on his neck. He looked to his left and found Uncle Rudolf had moved there and extended his hidden blade across his neck. He dropped his gun and moved back, raising his hands.

The hooligans ran away, leaving their leader bloodied on the street held down by my father. His bruised face was filled with confusion, anger, and fear. He shouted at his fleeing comrades in fury, telling them to come back and help him. But when they went out of sight, all his anger faded away and what remained was only fear and terror. Suddenly, my father stood up and pulled the leader up with him.

“Go, and don’t ever do this again.” He pushed the leader towards where his comrades had run. He immediately ran as if his life depended on it, not looking back at all.

They came around the old man and his family. While they were talking, a haggard man in torn clothing came around the corner. His face was dirty and bruised and his lip was bleeding. He limped over to where my father, Karl, and Uncle Rudolf were gathered. I saw Karl tensing his arm, preparing to engage his hidden blade, but my father’s hand stayed it. The man came near and half-fell to the ground.

“Sir, please, you’ve got to help.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s the Nazis. A group of soldiers came by, armed to the teeth, and they started burning our shops and beating us up. I managed to get away, but I saw that they were rounding up my neighbours. Please, sir…”

He was begging on his knees, and I could see the tears in his eyes.

“Where?” asked my father. The man gave directions and offered to bring him there.

“Alright, we’ll follow you.” He turned around and spoke to Karl. “Karl, get these people to safety. Rudolf and I will go ahead.”

With that, my brother helped the old man up and brought him and his family back towards the way we’d come from. As for my father and Uncle Rudolf, they followed the haggard man as he limped through the streets. I followed them from a distance, still making sure I was not seen. With Karl being sent back, I would be there to help them if things got worse. That was what I kept thinking as I followed them through the streets.

They reached a wide street flanked by endless buildings on either side. Several of the shops were on fire, their glass storefronts shattered and whatever remained inside having turned to ash. The streetlamps weren’t lit, but the flames provided enough light. And bathed in the fiery light, they could see a group of people sitting on the ground, guarded by three soldiers armed with rifles that you’d see on the battlefield. The soldiers noticed their arrival and turned to face them.

“What are you doing here? Go away.”

The haggard man retreated, but neither father nor Uncle Rudolf moved an inch.

“Are you deaf? I said go away.”

The other soldiers started moving closer to them, unslinging the rifles on their backs.

“What are you going to do to those people?” confronted my father.

“It’s got nothing to do with you. So. Clear. Off.”

The soldier had just begun to aim his rifle at my father when my father pulled it from his hands and kicked him to the ground. With one swift move, Uncle Rudolf kicked another one and delivered a blow to the face of the other. In less than ten seconds, all three soldiers were writhing in pain on the ground. Suddenly, they could hear a loud voice sounding from all around them.

“Impressive, Assassins,” said the voice. “Tales of your skills and… savagery are not exaggerated, it would seem.”

My father and Uncle Rudolf wheeled around and looked uncertainly around them, trying to find the source of the words. “Who are you?” demanded Uncle Rudolf.

“You can probably guess by now to what order I belong.”

“Templars,” father spat as he engaged his hidden blades. “What the hell do you want? What do you gain by doing this?”

“There’s quite an interesting reason really. We don’t just kill people for fun, do we? Or misguided beliefs, such as some do.”

Suddenly, more than a dozen soldiers streamed out of the buildings and the alleyways. A group of them started running out of one I was hiding near to. I hid behind trash cans right at the mouth of the alley, and it was all I could do to quickly hide as I heard their footsteps. They came out and surrounded my father and Uncle Rudolf, blocking any path of escape. They were all armed with rifles, and I could see they wore a different uniform, with the stylised letters SS on their helmets and collars – the Schutzstaffel, the so-called Protection Squadron and the primary foot soldiers of the Templars. They didn’t aim their weapons, but they held it at the ready so that when the order came, they’d be able to shoot.

“But unfortunately, you won’t be alive to hear it.”

One of them raised their rifle and aimed directly at my father’s head. I panicked. I couldn’t let my father get shot. But there were so many, what could I do? A thousand thoughts ran through my head as to what I could do. But I couldn’t figure anything out and I just ran. As he was pulling the trigger, I reached him and tackled him to the ground with all the strength in my body. He fell under my weight and the shot went wide in the sky.

The soldiers were taken by surprise and looked one way or another, some aiming their rifles, others holding back. I got up as quickly as I could and ran over to my father.

“What are you doing here?” he said, the surprise and horror evident in his tone.

“Later,” urged Uncle Rudolf, who was standing in a defensive posture.

The voice came again. “My, my, what do we have here? A son? A father and son team of Assassins fighting together, back to back… dying together, in the face of overwhelming odds. My, how heroic. I hope you don’t regret that, boy.”

He paused.

“Kill them.”

At those words, one of the soldiers began to shout. “Ziel!” but before he could finish his orders, I and Uncle Rudolf had closed the distance to the soldiers to our back, while father had done the same with the soldiers in front of us. Like a storm we came upon the soldiers, who were now forced to fight with their daggers and bayonets. I saw that my father had cut down two of them immediately and Uncle Rudolf had taken down one. I did the same with one as I rushed towards him. The fighting was chaotic, and we didn’t realise that the circle around us was becoming smaller as the fighting became more intense. Father fought half a dozen on his own, while I and Uncle Rudolf fought another dozen. It was the heaviest fighting I had ever been in, and we tried our best to not kill anyone, using our blades only when we had no other choice.

One came at me and swung his rifle clumsily, hoping to hit my head. But I was quicker, dodging the blow easily. I ducked and delivered a blow straight to his chin, knocking him backwards and out. Distracted, I didn’t see another coming towards me from behind. The butt of his rifle hit the back of my head, and I fell to the ground. As I lay on the ground, I turned over and saw him about to thrust the point of his bayonet into me when my father took hold of his rifle and punched him right in the face. My father hurriedly turned to me and extended his hand.

“Are you alright, Sohn?”

I took his hand and stood up, the pain in the back of my head still sharp and my head spinning slightly.

“It hurts quite a bit, but I’m fine. I can still fight, papa.”

There was no time for conversation, as another approached my father from behind. His hit would’ve landed on target if my father had not ducked. As my father ducked, I pulled the attacker’s rifle and he fell forward. I kicked him hard in the stomach and gave a hit to his face. We had taken down more than half of them, and we were making short work of the rest. None of the soldiers were a match for three highly trained Assassins.

Suddenly, the tide changed. A truck came, and more soldiers poured out. We were separated from Uncle Rudolf as more soldiers joined the fray. We were fighting back to back against the onslaught – punching, kicking, dodging, slashing, ducking.

As half a dozen men fell upon me, I was separated from my father. They were attacking me from all sides, swinging the butts of their rifles. Some of their hits got me, and I was bruised and hurting all over. I knocked two out, but four more still came at me. I dodged a swing from above only to have another swing hit me right in the stomach. I fell to my knees, feeling sick as the world around me began to spin.

In the distance, I saw my father fighting a dozen men. He wasn’t like me. He was skilled, experienced, and strong. Two of them attacked him from two different sides, and yet he skillfully deflected both and knocked them out. Three more came after him. One swung the butt of his rifle towards his face, another towards his stomach, and the third one his back. But he dodged them all and delivered a heavy blow to the one aiming at his stomach. He knocked out another one with a punch to the face and was forced to use his blade to slash the other one’s arm and kick him in the face, knocking him out too.

As I was about to stand up and continue the fight, I saw a bit farther away from father one of the soldiers aiming his rifle at me. I stared at him, afraid and unsure of what to do. But my thoughts were cut short by a blow to my face. I could hear father shouting my name. As I fell, I could hear the loud, deafening sound of the shot… and to my horror, I could see my father slowly falling down onto his knees in pain. He had rushed between me and the shooter and had taken the shot meant for me. I hit the asphalt hard, but I couldn’t feel the pain. It felt unreal. I wasn’t sure where I was, or what I was doing.

“Ernst!” I heard Uncle Rudolf shout in the distance.

But it quickly faded away, and rage, fear, and desperation overcame me.

“Bastarde!” I shouted as I jumped up. I engaged my blades and ran them through the necks of the first two men in front of me. Another came at me from the left and his bayonet grazed my arm, but my blade found his stomach and I pushed him down. I kicked away one as he came to my right. I rushed towards my father. Two soldiers came near him with their rifles held up. They heard me coming and turned towards me, but it was too late. Both fell down as my blades found their mark.

I heard the sound of a bullet casing falling out and saw that the bastard who shot my father was reloading and aiming at me. I pulled up one of the men I just took down and used his body as a shield. The shot took him right in the chest, and he died in pain.

Gathering all the rage in me, I ran towards the shooter. He was shocked, and in vain he tried to quickly reload and shoot me. But his shot missed me, and in a matter of seconds, my blades found their mark in him. I ran my blade through his neck, and as the blood poured out and he gurgled in pain, I shouted at him.

“Die, you bastard!”

He cried out in agony before finally dying by my blades. I ran over to my dying father. His limbs were limp, and his face was getting pale. There was so much blood on his shirt. The shot had hit him right in the chest, and my father was struggling to breathe. His eyes were dazed, and he couldn’t focus. Tears started rolling down my cheeks. I was shouting and screaming, but I couldn’t make out what I was saying. I held him in my hands as he lay dying. He finally focused his eyes on me. He held my shoulder with his hand, and he smiled a sad, gentle smile at me.

“Nichts ist wahr… Alles ist erlaubt,” he coughed, and blood came out. “Remember that, Sohn. Don’t ever forget that. You’re an Assassin, just like me.” He coughed again.

“I’m sorry.” A single tear rolled down his cheek. He breath was ragged. He kept coughing, and with each cough more blood came out. His eyes were becoming unfocused, and his face went pale. As I sat there trying to keep my attention away from father’s blood seeping through his clothes and coating my hands in red, I found myself wondering what he was thinking at that moment. Although fires were burning around us, I felt cold and so did his skin. His hand was shaking, and I could feel his grip on my shoulder getting weaker. He brought his hand to my cheek and caressed it. I could feel the tremor in his cold hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. He was caressing my cheek, and on his face was an expression of regret, but also love and kindness. “I love you. I love your mother, and I love your brother too. Please tell them for me.” I was sobbing, and more tears were streaming down my face. I wanted to say something, but my voice had gone. I wanted to say don’t leave me, don’t leave us, but I couldn’t. He caressed my cheek, trying to calm me down. “I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled his hand slowly. He closed his eyes, and his hand fell onto the ground.

And then his entire body went limp in my arms. I was silent. I wasn’t crying anymore. I felt empty, dead. I felt like my entire world had fallen apart. I laid down his body and stood up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and that there was only one thing I could do. I turned my attention to the soldiers who were still alive, some still fighting against Uncle Rudolf.

I ran towards them.

I could feel the heat from the flames around me. I felt the cold sweat pouring down my face as confidence and pride were replaced by rage. I could hear them shouting and screaming as I swirled and slashed. I was surrounded by armed men swinging and aiming their weapons at me. I didn’t know how many I killed. As soon as one fell, I’d turn my attention to another. I thought it would never end, and that I would be stuck there forever at midnight on the burning streets of Berlin, killing and spilling blood.

By the end, more than two dozen men lay dead on the street, turning the asphalt dark and red. My blades were slick with their blood, and cuts and slashes dotted my clothes and face. I didn’t feel any pride or happiness or relief. I was dead. Of all the corpses on the street, I was looking at only one: my father’s. Uncle Rudolf came to me and said some things, but I didn’t catch them.

With Uncle Rudolf, I carried my father’s body home. The sun had risen by the time I reached my house. I went inside and into the living room. My mother came in, her face full of worry. But her expression turned to that of horror when she saw my father. She stood silent for a few seconds, and then she started crying hysterically.

“What happened? What happened? Is he dead? What happened? Ernst, wake up. Ernst, don’t leave me. ERNST!” cried out my mother frantically. She fell onto her knees and started sobbing.

I gently placed my father’s body on the couch. I closed his eyes and said to him, “Ruhe in Frieden, papa.”

Mr. Nichelsberg and the old man who they saved walked over to my father’s body. They were silent, their eyes full of regret and grief. They knelt and prayed for my father’s soul.

Nichts ist wahr, alles ist erlaubt. Those were some of his last words to me. Nothing is true, everything is permitted. The Creed of the Assassins. He died believing in the Creed. He died an Assassin. He died saving me, because I couldn’t stay put and disobeyed his orders. He died because I wasn’t strong enough to save him. The Templars murdered him, and I will make sure they pay.

My name is Jan Adler. I am an Assassin.

Chapter Text

31 August 1939 – Berlin, Nazi Germany

The car stopped on the pavement right outside their house. Jan went outside and got in the back. Uncle Rudolf was driving, and an Assassin named Yannik sat in the front.

“Onkel Rudolf,” Jan said, waving his hand at him.

“Jan,” he said, nodding.

“Guten Tag, Jan,” Yannik said as he turned his head back to face him. Yannik smiled at him and Jan nodded.

He did not know Yannik that well, having only met him three times. Twice at their home when father had guests, and once at the funeral. He was a short but stout man with a round, clean-shaven face. His eyes were bright-blue and small, and his hair was brushed to one side but well-kempt. His smile was small, but whenever he smiled, his eyebrows would soften, and he was like a regular nice middle-aged man in Berlin. But what had really caught Jan’s eyes was how high his forehead was. Since he combed his hair neatly to one side, no strands of hair fell onto his face and his forehead was fully exposed.

“How is your mother?” asked Yannik.

“She’s doing fine. The bakery’s doing well right now so she’s busier though.”

Ever since his father had died, his mother had had to work alone in the bakery to support them. Jan usually helped her bake the bread in the mornings, and sometimes he watched the bakery in the afternoon to serve any customers. Karl used to help too, but ever since he had been sent to Rome to help the Italian Brotherhood, it had just been the two of them. Jan was about to go to the bakery with his mother when the telephone rang, and Uncle Rudolf had told him to get ready to be picked up.

“What’s happening, Onkel?”

“Heinrich is gathering everyone.”

Heinrich Kogler was the head of the Assassin bureau in Berlin. Jan had only met him twice, once at home and once at the funeral. He had never spoken to him before.

“It’s probably something big, something important,” added Yannik. “We don’t gather much these days.”

They stopped in front of the café that served as the Assassins’ hideout, the Café von Birken. It was early in the morning and there were few customers. A man in a clean, grey suit with a well-trimmed moustache and a receding hairline greeted them as they entered. He was Adrian von Birken, the proprietor of the café and ally to the Assassins, although he himself was not an Assassin. He bowed at them, his expression polite and subdued.

“Willkommen, Herr Weisberger,” he said, greeting Uncle Rudolf using his last name.

“Herr von Birken,” replied Uncle Rudolf.

“Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee or tea, perhaps?”

“No, thank you.”

“As usual then?”

Uncle Rudolf nodded. Adrian nodded back and turned around, leading them through a door behind the counter and into the back. On both sides of the flower-patterned green wall were four identical wooden doors, two on each side. At the end of the hallway next to the window was a set of stairs going up and down. He led them down into the basement where they reached a storage room.

“I must get back to the front,” he said as he turned around and went upstairs without a word.

Yannik walked towards the cabinet at the end of the room and pulled it out of the way, exposing the brick wall behind. Uncle Rudolf put his hands on the wall, moving across its surface as he tried to find the loose brick. After a few seconds, he pushed it and stepped back. Silently, the wall opened. Without a word, Uncle Rudolf grabbed one of the lanterns on the shelves in the room and went inside. Jan followed him, and Yannik came in last. As Uncle Rudolf lit the lantern, Yannik pulled the cabinet back into place and pressed a button on the side of the wall. As the wall slid back into place, the corridor grew darker and the only source of light was the lantern.

They went further inside until finally they went down a flight of stairs, turning right once, and came to a slightly rusted metal door. Uncle Rudolf knocked twice and then waited. Not long afterwards, there were footsteps approaching the door. They became louder and louder until there was the sound of locks being opened and a wooden bar being lifted, before finally the door opened and a man in a coat with its hood pulled up covering half of his face stood in the entryway.

Without a word, he gestured for us to follow him. There was a light coming from a door on the left of the corridor they had just entered. They walked a few steps before turning left and came into a modest-sized room with a dusty wooden table in the middle, with a single dim yellow lamp hanging above it. Inside stood five Assassins, with Heinrich Kogler standing at their head. Behind him hung a tattered yellow banner with the symbol of the Assassins in black. They were talking amongst themselves and when Jan and the others came, they turned their heads. Heinrich smiled.

“Willkommen, Rudolf, Yannik, Jan. Now that everyone is here, let us begin.”

Despite being the leader of the Berlin Assassins, Heinrich was a relatively young man, younger than both Jan’s father and Uncle Rudolf. Born out of wedlock to a prostitute with an unknown father, he grew up on the streets of Berlin where he survived by pickpocketing and stealing. Until one day, he was found by the Assassin Benedikt Kogler, who took him and became his mentor and introduced him to the Brotherhood. He was dedicated to the Creed and worked tirelessly in pursuit of its ideals. Rather than large, he was lean and stood tall and confident. Underneath his slightly ruffled short dark brown hair, his brown eyes shone with seriousness and intelligence.

Yannik approached the table and looked around, counting and recognising each of the Assassins in the room. He furrowed his eyebrows and turned to Heinrich.

“Where’s Linus?”

Everyone turned their eyes to Heinrich, who stayed silent and stared at the map of Germany on the table. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“He’s gone.”

Everyone in the room fell silent as the shock came over them. Yannik gaped, Uncle Rudolf looked down and some others followed suit, while others still were confused. Jan himself did not know who Linus was, only knowing that there was an Assassin by that name. He had been at the funeral too.

“What happened?” asked Yannik.

“A few days ago, we received information from our contact in the army that Hitler’s ordered the army to move to the Polish border. As you all know, Hitler has been demanding that Poland hand over Danzig to Germany. Two days ago, Hitler also demanded the restoration of the Polish Corridor. But we believed that this was all a farce, and that Hitler has been planning to invade Poland all along. I passed this to the Council in Essen, but they didn’t do anything.

I sent Linus to dig around and find out more. He managed to break into the Schutzstaffel headquarters and came upon a set of top-secret documents containing information unknown to the Brotherhood. Unfortunately, he was discovered. The guards went after him, and he got shot. He managed to lose them and reach me here, along with the documents in hand.”

Heinrich covered his eyes with his hand and held onto the table.

“I couldn’t save him.”

The atmosphere in the room became heavy. For a few minutes, no one spoke or made a sound. Until finally one of them named Angelina spoke.

“The bastards,” she muttered under her breath. “The bastards. We lost Ernst last year, and now Linus. I swear I’ll make those Templar, Nazi bastards pay even if I have to slit their throats one by one. I’ll make them pay.”

She punched the wall.

“Where is he now, Heinrich?” asked Yannik, his voice soft and sad.

“He is still on the bed in the next room.”

“Then, excuse me for a while. I must pay my respects to him.”

As he turned around to open the door, Heinrich called out after him.

“No, Yannik. We will pay our respects after this. Because we are running against the clock.”

He turned around and picked up a brown, blank folder filled with sheaves of papers from the table underneath the banner and put it in the middle of the table. Everyone turned their eyes to it.

“Linus died for this information. But we now have information of events that are about to happen that will change the very fate of this world. We have no time to spare. We must act, or soon there will be nothing left of the world we know.”

Heinrich swept the documents to one side and let the others see the map of Germany and Poland on the table.

“The Templars plan to start another world war. And from the ashes, they hope to establish a New World Order under their rule. And it begins here, in Poland. Hitler plans to invade Poland.”

Heinrich paused and placed white chess pieces on the German provinces of East Prussia north of Poland, Silesia west of Poland, and on Slovakia south of Poland.

“The Wehrmacht plans to encircle Poland. They plan to attack from three directions and encircle Poland. North from East Prussia, west from Silesia, and south from Slovakia. All three armies would head towards the capital Warsaw, and they hope to destroy the Polish army west of the Vistula river.

Britain and France will declare war on Germany after Poland is invaded. And the Soviets have signed an agreement to share Poland with Germany, albeit secretly. The world will be dragged into another great war.”

Heinrich straightened his back and took a breath. Jan and the others paid attention, but the shock and disbelief were clear on their faces. Yannik closed his mouth and muttered under his breath.

“Oh Gott. It’s happening again.”

“And that is not all. Among the documents Linus found are documents related to a top-secret project called Projekt Wodan.”

“Projekt Wodan?” asked Angelina.

“Yes. We don’t know what it is. The documents Linus discovered did not mention what Project Wodan is, only that some operations are to be carried out in Poland related to this project.”

“Have you contacted the Polish Brotherhood, Heinrich?” asked Yannik. As in many other countries, there was an Assassin brotherhood in Poland.

“No, unfortunately. I have sent word to the Council in Essen, but I cannot contact our brothers and sisters in Poland. The Nazis have cut most communications to Poland. And no doubt, the Polish Brotherhood will be occupied with helping the Polish Army to try and repel the Wehrmacht.”

“But that’s unlikely to succeed, is it,” quipped in Uncle Rudolf. Heinrich looked at Rudolf then back to everyone else.

“Yes. That is unlikely. The Polish Army is not fully mobilised yet, and they are outnumbered and outgunned. The best that the Brotherhood in Poland can do is to slow them down, perhaps get civilians to safety, and give enough time for the Polish government and armies to retreat. That is the best they can hope to do.”

“So, what do we do then?”

“The Council has ordered us to send a team to Poland to contact the Polish Brotherhood and to find out more about their operations there. Brothers, sisters, we are at war.”

Heinrich turned around and took a rolled map from the table under the banner. He unrolled it on the table, covering the map of Germany and Poland with a more detailed map of Poland, complete with the names of many small towns and villages. He scanned the map and pointed at a small point in the middle of Western Poland. Its name was written as Sczceciwek.

“Sczceciwek. This village was mentioned in the documents Linus recovered. The document contained a list of people to be executed there and the surrounding towns and villages – clergy, the educated, teachers, community leaders. They are sending Totenkopf – Death’s Head – units to kill all Polish men, women, and children that they come across. These units will follow the invasion force.

However, a special battalion called the Hel Battalion is being specifically sent to Sczceciwek. The documents mention that they are tasked with the search and recovery of a certain artefact believed to be in the local church. This is our top priority. We must find out what they are looking for and retrieve it if possible.”

“Alright, so who’s going there?” asked Yannik, straightening out the map and studying it. Heinrich cleared his throat.

“I’ve selected a team. Angelina, you will lead the team.”

“Understood,” she said, nodding. “And my team?”

“Kevin,” he said, looking at the Assassin who had led Jan and the others to the meeting room. And then he looked at Jan. “And Jan.”

“What?” Uncle Rudolf asked, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Heinrich, he’s just a boy,” said Yannik.

“He is young, yes, but he is an Assassin. Just like his father, his brother, you, me, and all of us here. And we all have a part to play.”

“Yes, but why must it be him?”

“Because he is one of the quickest among us and one of our best fighters.”

“That may be true, but he’s got no exp-“

“I’ll do it,” Jan said, speaking up. Everyone looked at him in surprise. “I’ll go.”

“Sehr gut. Angelina, Kevin, Jan, get ready. You leave as soon as possible.”

“Alright,” said Angelina. Kevin nodded.

“May I say goodbye to my mother first?” Jan asked, not wishing to suddenly disappear on his mother.

“Very well. But make it quick. We don’t have much time. You three can leave. Everyone else, we have jobs to do in Berlin.”

“Come on,” Angelina gestured for Jan to follow.

Angelina opened the door and left. Kevin and Jan followed after her. Outside the door, she turned around to face them. Her face was hidden by the darkness of the corridor.

“I’m going to get ready. Kevin, you go with Jan to his home. Then we’ll meet in that alley outside the safehouse on the road to Warsaw, outside Berlin.”

Kevin and Jan nodded and watched her as she turned around and went out of the corridor door. Kevin turned around and looked at Jan, and Jan looked back at him. He nodded towards the door and started walking. Jan started to follow after him, but he stopped in his steps and tentatively turned his head around towards the door next to room where Linus was lying.

He walked towards the door and stood before it. He did not understand why he was going there, but he wanted to see Linus. He reached out for the doorknob, his hand shaking. The slightly rusted yellow doorknob was cold to the touch. He turned it and slowly opened the door inwards, the hinges creaking.

The room was lit by a single yellow lamp hanging from the centre of the ceiling. Under it was a bed and a table. On the table were an assortment of medical supplies – scissors, stitches, cotton, bottles of alcohol and other substances Jan knew nothing about. A lot of the cottons were drenched dark red on one side, the same colour as the bedsheet under the body on the bed and the clothes Linus was wearing. The room was still and the only sound there was came from the meeting room next to it.

Jan walked silently towards Linus. His feet were trembling, but he kept moving forward. Linus was still in his Assassin robes. His hands were crossed on top of his chest, clearly showing the bloodied Assassin ring on his right hand. Even though they didn’t cut off their fingers or burn the ring into the skin anymore, the German Assassins still wore rings like so many generations of Assassins did before them. There were scratches and dried patches of blood all over his hands. His eyes were closed, and he was resting in peace. If not for the blood or his ragged appearance, Jan could’ve thought that he was sleeping. The skin of his stubbly face was pale and looked cold.

Suddenly the door creaked, and Jan’s heart stopped. He turned around and Kevin was standing in the doorway. Kevin did not say anything, and for a few seconds they just stared at each other. Then wordlessly, Kevin nodded towards the corridor door and Jan nodded back. Jan followed Kevin and moved to close the door. But before he did, he took one last look at Linus, resting peacefully on the bed. And then he closed the door.

The smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the air as Jan opened the door to the bakery. Kevin was waiting outside the bakery, so there was no one inside except for Jan. Behind the glass panes of the counter were lines of an assortment of bread, cakes, pastries, cookies, and pies. Some spots were empty, the bread having been sold to people going to work in the morning rush hour. On the wall behind the counter, the owners’ family name was written in large, white, capital letters: KLINGER. Jan was suddenly hungry. He had only eaten one bread roll in the morning.

“Willkommen!” shouted his mother from the kitchen in the back where they baked the bread. “Wait just a minute please.”

His mother came out of the kitchen, wiping her flour-covered hands with a plain grey cloth. She had her shoulder-length, wavy, dark brown hair in a hair net, exposing her reddened cheeks that stood out on her smooth, white skin. Underneath her red and white plaid apron, she wore a simple, plain lime green dress. She looked every bit the part of baker, a job she had been forced to find after his father had died, and one that Mr. Klinger was kind enough to give. Her dark brown eyes widened when she saw that it was Jan.

“Jan! Sweetie, what are you doing here? I thought you went with Onkel Rudolf.” She finished wiping her hands and smiled at him, leaning slightly above the counter. “Did you come to help me in the kitchen?”

“No, Mama.” He smiled, still not sure how he was going to tell his mother that he had to go, to Poland too. When Karl left, it had been hard on her. She did not show him, but he knew she cried every night the first few days, missing him and sick with worry. Jan did not want to do that to her. “I just came by to see you.”

“Do you have to go back again?”

“Yeah.”

“How sweet of you, but I have to go back to work, okay?” She crouched and took a paper bag out of the counter. “You didn’t have much to eat this morning, did you? Here, I’ll give you some bread,” she said, as she took two bread rolls and put it in the paper bag. She stood up and handed it to him.

“Is this okay? What would Mr. Klinger say?” He opened the paper bag. The sweet smell of the bread made him even hungrier.

“It’s fine. He said I could take two or three pieces of bread to take home anyway.” She smiled at him. “Now go, go. They’re waiting for you, aren’t they? I’m going back to work, okay.” She stared at him, waiting for him to leave.

Jan stood in front of his mother holding the paper bag in his hand. He did not move and kept his eyes on the two bread rolls in the bag. He looked up and beheld his mother’s aging but beautiful face. Wrinkles had started to line her face, but Jan still felt warm and safe every time he saw her. He used to have to raise his head to look up at her, but now it was reversed. She had to look up at him. Both her sons had grown up tall, a good one head above her. He had to say it, he knew that.

“Mama.”

“Yes?”

“I have to go.”

“Yes, I know. Be careful on your way, okay?”

“No, that’s what I mean. I mean, yes, that’s what I mean.” He sighed and cast his eyes downwards. “I have to go. To Poland.”

Her smile disappeared, and her eyes widened at the mention of Poland. She knew what was going on. People were talking about it, saying that there was probably going to be some conflict between Germany and Poland. She had been afraid of this ever since then, afraid that there was going to be a war and that their lives would get harder. But more than that, she was afraid that Jan was going to be a part of it. She gulped.

“A-ach so.” Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, and her mind was foggy. She struggled to find the words to say. “W-w-when are you coming back?”

“I don’t know.” Jan’s heart dropped at the sight of his mother’s anxiety. He did not want to do this, but he had to tell her. He couldn’t lie to her. “Don’t worry, Mama. I’m going to be fine. I’ll be back home faster than you think. I promise you that.” Her hand was on the counter. He stepped forward and held it. It was trembling. “I promise, Mama.”

“Y-you have to leave now?”

“Yes, Mama. As soon as possible.” Water came to her eyes, and she started to sniffle. Jan brought his arms around her and hugged her. “I’m going to be fine, Mama. I’m going to be careful. I promise. I promise.” She was sniffling, but she didn’t cry. She was trembling in his arms.

Jan came out of the store, and Kevin was still waiting with his back against the storefront. He had had his eyes focused on the street, watching the people go by. Noticing Jan, he looked at him. Jan nodded, and he nodded back. With that, Kevin turned around to go, and Jan started to follow after him. Jan stopped in his steps and turned to see the inside of the bakery one more time. His mother was in the kitchen, only her back visible to him. She hunched over and crouched, her head on her knees. Jan felt like his heart was being crushed, but there was no other choice. He was an Assassin, like his father, brother, and ancestors before him. He had a duty to do, even if it caused his mother grief. He turned away and caught up to Kevin. She continued to cry.

As the sun began to set in the west, Kevin drove them further away from it. They were on an eastbound road headed towards Poland. They were still in Berlin, but the further they went the less buildings there was on either side and the less people and cars there were on the streets. Instead, they were replaced by more and more shrubbery and trees. Angelina sat in the front seat, talking to Kevin about how long she thought the trip was going to be.

“We’re probably going to have to abandon the car when we get near to the front,” she said, as she inserted a magazine into her Luger pistol. She turned around towards Jan. “Here.” She offered him a Luger pistol, handle first. “You’re going to need it.”

Jan said thanks and nodded. He knew how to use pistols; his father had taught him how to shoot accurately. But it had always been at a shooting range, and never against a moving, living target. The worn-out brown handle felt familiar but cold and heavy in his hands. Was he going to use it? That’s a stupid question, he thought to himself. It was a given that he’d use it.

On the other side of the backseat were three old Gewehr 98 rifles, the main rifle of the German Army in the Great War. When they had come to pick her up, Angelina was carrying the bag that now lay on the foot of the seat behind Angelina’s. She had gone back into the alley she was standing in front of, beckoning Kevin to drive in. There, she opened the back door and threw in the three rifles. They were old and worn out, but Angelina assured him that they could still kill a man. The bag was full of ammunition.

The buildings had disappeared and had been replaced by a variety of bushes, trees, shrubs, and the wide stretches of farmland. There were no cars in front or behind them, and very few people passed them by on the road. As Kevin increased their speed, Jan turned around and looked through the rear window. The last rays of sunlight were covering the city in a blanket of bright orange. With each passing second, the city grew smaller and more distant. A heavy feeling set upon Jan’s heart as the city slowly disappeared behind him, the city where he had grown up and where his mother still was, alone. He wondered to himself,

When will I see it again?

Chapter Text

Near Sczceciwek, Poland – 1 September 1939

Jan ran through the forest with the handgun in his hand, zigzagging between the tall, thin trees around him. He was heaving with the weight of the rifle slung across his back. In the distance, the soldiers were shouting and chasing after him. Neither Angelina nor Kevin was around, and he didn’t know where they were after they got separated.

The vegetation covering the forest ground grew denser. The leaves of the plants hit Jan’s sides as he ran. His pace was slowing, yet the two soldiers chasing him were still on his tail. Jan looked around him and tried to find a place to hide. There was a pile of logs covered all over by moss a few steps away from him. He ran towards it as fast as he could and lay flat on his stomach behind a log, facing the place where he had been standing just a few seconds before. Catching his breath, he unslung the rifle from his back and held it in his hands. It was far heavier in his hands than he’d imagined, and he laid the barrel on the log.

The two soldiers arrived, heaving as they carried their rifles and aimed uncertainly around them. Their weapons were the newer Karabiner 98k kurz rifles, shorter than their predecessor that Jan was aiming towards them. They were still clean, their wooden barrels shining in the sunlight from beyond the treetops. In their greatcoats, they stood tall and imposing. Their young, white faces, blue eyes, and blonde hair were the prime example of the Nazis’ so-called “superior” Aryan race. They were in front of Jan, exposing their flanks to him.

“Do you see him?” one asked as he aimed his rifle towards the distance to Jan’s right.

“No, where could he have gone?”

“Verdammt! He couldn’t have just disappeared.”

Jan breathed in and held the cool autumn air in his lungs. He looked down the sight of his rifle and steadied it, aiming it straight at the head of the closest one. As he prepared to pull the metal trigger, a bead of cold sweat dripped down his face. He was slightly trembling, and his heart beat so loudly against his chest that he thought it would burst.

A hand pushed the barrel of his rifle down, bringing his hand with it. He let go of the rifle and quickly rolled over onto his back and tensed his left arm, pulling out the sharp blade out from under his wrist and thrusting it upwards towards whoever or whatever had been behind him. The blade barely missed the head and Jan found his forearm held up by a strong, small grip. Beneath her faded black hood and dark brown hair, Angelina looked at Jan. He relaxed his muscles and let down his arm, tensing it once again to pull back the blade. Angelina put a finger to her lips and nodded, telling him to be quiet. Jan turned his head back. The two soldiers were looking uncertainly in their direction.

“Did you hear that?”

“Ja, it sounded like a knife being pulled out.”

“It came from over there, I think.”

They started walking towards Jan and Angelina, holding up their rifles with their fingers ready to pull the trigger at any moment. A shadow appeared out the corner of his eye. In a blink of an eye, the farther soldier had fallen onto the dirt, a black mass crouching over him. His comrade turned back and aimed his rifle at it. One moment he exposed his neck, and the next Angelina’s blade had pierced it. She had leapt over the logs and rushed towards him. Kevin stood up from the dead soldier beneath him. His right blade was engaged, and it was slick with fresh, crimson blood. Angelina pulled her blade out of the soldier’s neck and pushed him. He fell forwards towards the ground, letting his rifle fall as he clutched at his neck. Blood gurgled from his mouth and seeped through his fingers. After a few final spasms, he went limp and stopped moving.

Jan stood up and walked towards them, slinging his rifle across his back. Angelina and Kevin were both sweeping their hands against the air, clearing the blood from their blades, and pulled them back in.

“Do you know why I stopped you, Jan?” Angelina asked him. She turned around to face him as he approached.

“Because Kevin was already about to attack?”

“No, two reasons.” Angelina pointed to the two corpses on the ground. “There were two of them. Once you took out one, you’d have to take out the other. But I don’t doubt that you’d be able to do that. But if you had done that, the gunshots would’ve been heard all over. We’re near the village.” She pointed towards the denser woods in the distance behind them. “It’s right over there, behind those trees. If you had shot them, we would’ve had the entire battalion chasing us.”

She turned around and pointed at one corpse towards Kevin, who nodded and picked him up. He carried him back towards the logs where Jan had been hiding and threw it down amongst them. Angelina pointed at the other one while looking at Jan. Jan did the same, while Angelina threw away the rifles. They started moving towards the village, Angelina at their head followed by Jan and Kevin. As they walked, Angelina spoke in a hushed voice.

“Remember, Jan. An Assassin’s greatest strength isn’t their skill at fighting or shooting. It’s stealth.”

Coming out of the trees, an array of white houses with thatched roofs lay before them. There were no villagers in sight. In their place, German soldiers went from house to house, breaking down doors that couldn’t be opened. Two stood guard at the entrance to the village, facing the dirt road that led into the woods. The golden skull over two bones on their right collars marked them as soldiers of the SS-Totenkopfverbände – the Death’s Head Units. Like crows they followed the invasion to spread terror among the innocent people now under the control of Nazi Germany. They did not fight against soldiers, save for the few stragglers. Their job was to kill people, soldier or not, and especially those they deem dangerous to their rule – community leaders, scholars, priests. But on their left arms they wore something that differentiated them from the other Death’s Head Units: a black armband with the symbol of a red cross on it. They were no ordinary Death’s Head soldiers; they were men of the Hel Battalion, whose allegiance lay not only to Nazi Germany, but also to the Templars Order.

The three Assassins slid behind a pile of logs beside the closest house. They unslung their rifles and slowly brought their heads up, peeking over the wood. Rows and rows of houses stood before them, as far as the eye could see. Some of their doors had been broken down, and clothes and furniture lay in front of them in disarray, thrown out of their homes. Others had soldiers outside, waiting as their comrades ransacked it.

“What are they doing?” There was at least two dozen of them in sight.

“They’re looking for something,” Angelina said, squinting her eyes. “Look, in the distance.”

Jan and Kevin directed their eyes towards where she was pointing. There were people marching in line, barely visible. Like a pack of wolves, the soldiers stood on their flanks, holding up their rifles and shouting at them to keep moving.

“They’re bringing everyone there.” Angelina moved towards the back of the house and gestured for them to follow. “We need to get there.”

They made their way around the house and through the village. They used the walls and shadows to their advantage, moving from cover to cover, hiding whenever a patrol came too near and silently running whilst they weren’t looking. Jan lost track of how many soldiers they had passed. All in all, there might’ve been a hundred or more of them, merciless, cruel, and armed to the teeth.

They reached a plaza surrounded by houses and shops with a small church at its head. They hid behind barrels next to the house closest to the church. The villagers were all sitting on the ground, surrounded by no less than twenty soldiers. Men, women, and children cowered at the sight of their rifles and bayonets. Babies and toddlers clung to their mothers, crying, who desperately tried to calm them down, not knowing what the soldiers would do if the cries continued.

More of the soldiers stood in front of the church, guarding its entrance and keeping a close eye on the villagers. Three more stood near a man in a peaked cap wearing a greatcoat as he observed the villagers. They were speaking in low voices and they strained to hear what they were saying, to no avail. He had his back to them, showing only the short, dark brown hair on the back of his head.

At the sound of dragging feet, they turned around and faced the church. Two soldiers were dragging out a priest by his arms. Another soldier walked in front of them. They walked towards the officer in the peaked cap. When the villagers realised who it was that was being dragged out of the church, a stifled cry came out of them. The commotion grew louder as they spoke amongst themselves or to the guards around them. The officer paid them no heed and cast his eyes on the priest whose head was down. The soldier walking in front stopped before the officer and extended his right arm into the air, his hand straightened – the Nazi salute.

Just then, a man stood up from among the villagers and shouted at the officer. He pointed his finger towards the priest, whose head was still dangling forward. Jan did not understand what he said for he spoke in Polish, but the words nonetheless were sharp and rough. The officer looked at him with a dull expression in his eyes. Whether he did not understand what he was saying, or he did not find it particularly interesting, Jan didn’t know. The man’s rage-filled curses were cut short when one of the nearby guards came to him. With all his strength, the soldier brought the butt of his rifle towards the man’s face. He fell backwards onto a group of villagers, who caught him. His face was bruised, and blood flowed out from his mouth.

“Quiet!” hissed the soldier, spitting at the ground in front of the man.

The officer turned his attention back to the priest.

“Guten Morgen, Vater.” The officer spoke in a low voice and made a small bow of the head. “How are you?”

The priest slowly lifted up his head. From where they were hiding, his face wasn’t visible. But there were bruises and patches of dried blood on the side of his face. The priest looked straight in the officer’s eyes.

“You don’t look too well, Vater. I apologise, it seems that my men have once again gone too far.” The officer turned his head towards his men. His eyes circled around, looking at his soldiers. “How many times have I told you not to be too rough with our hosts?” His tone was dry and sarcastic, and in response his men chuckled and smiled. He crouched, bringing his face close to the priest’s.

“I’m sorry to disturb you and the village, Vater, but I have need of your aid.” His smile sent shivers down Jan’s spine. “Where is the artefact? We know it is here, in this village. We know you’ve been hiding it. We just don’t know exactly where. We would be very grateful if you could help us in this regard.” Though he smiled, his eyes were creased and serious.

For a moment, the priest said nothing. He looked at the soldiers surrounding him, and then cast his attention back to the officer.

“I do not know what you are talking about, sir,” the priest said, his German thick with a Polish accent. “We are a small village. We only chop trees and raise farm animals, and our church is a small one. There is nothing here but logs, pigs, chickens, cows, a church, and its old priest. There is nothing special here, sir. Please spare us. We’ll give you anything.”

“I’ve told you what we need, Vater. The artefact that is inside your church.” His face retained his cold smile, but the priest would not answer. Seeing this, he nodded his head and stood up. “Very well. Perhaps a little more persuasion is required.” He turned around and signaled to the sergeant standing near the villagers. The sergeant nodded and turned to his men surrounding the villagers.

“Bring up ten of them!”

At his command, the guards moved forward, standing above the villagers cowering in fear. Each of the five guards pointed at two and told them to step forward. The villagers all hesitated and sat still, looking around at each other. When they did not move, the soldiers pointed their rifles at them and shouted at them to move. The villagers screamed and shouted. Children and babies cried louder as the ten men and women were dragged or pushed towards the church. There they stood in a line facing the officer and the priest.

“Leutnant,” said the officer, without turning his head, looking at the ten villagers in front of him.

“Jawohl!” shouted the lieutenant, raising his hand in a Nazi salute.

At that, ten soldiers who had been standing by the side marched forward and each stood a few paces in front of one villager. They aimed their rifles at the villagers, and a great cry arose among the villagers in the back. Some of them stood up, begging and crying in Polish. Jan could not understand them, but it was clear what they were speaking of from their faces. Those who stood up were told to sit down, and when they didn’t, were either pushed down or would meet the butt of a rifle.

The officer raised his hand to signal them to halt and turned back towards the priest. His head was now looking forwards, his eyes frantically going from one villager to another. He was shaking, and the tremor reached his hands, still held up by the two soldiers.

“Now, let’s try this again, Vater.” He crouched in front of the priest and looked into his eyes. “Where is the artefact? My men have searched throughout the church, but they could not find it.” He pointed towards the ten villagers. “I, and these people, would greatly appreciate your aid.”

The priest looked down and spoke in a low voice. The officer turned his head so that his ear was facing towards the priest and asked him to repeat what he had said. The priest spoke once again. The officer, satisfied, smiled at him and stood up.

“Damn it, what did he say?” Angelina cursed.

“See? That wasn’t too difficult.” The officer called over the lieutenant and whispered something into his ear. The lieutenant nodded and ordered his men to stand down. The officer then led half a dozen soldiers into the church followed by the two soldiers dragging the priest, leaving behind the villagers.

“We have to get in,” Angelina said, immediately moving towards the side of the church. “Let’s go.”

Angelina went first, scaling the aged wooden wall of the church as quick as lightning and climbing onto the roof. She crouched and kept her profile as small as she could. Jan came after, followed by Kevin. They ran over the roof, keeping their footsteps light as they made their way behind the church tower where the soldiers in front would not be able to see them.

They stood with their backs to the wall. Angelina peeked around the corner of the tower, checking if any of the soldiers had seen them. Save for the few marching soldiers, everything was as it had been. Satisfied, she sighed and turned to Jan and Kevin.

“Alright. Let’s go. I’ll go first. Jan, you come after me. Kevin, you go last.” Without waiting for their reply, Angelina quickly leapt and climbed the wall. Skillfully she grasped the notches and openings, making her way up without a sound. He stared in awe of her agility. Kevin tapped him on his shoulder, shaking him back to reality. He quickly went after her and followed where she had placed her hands and feet.

Pulling himself over the wall, Jan found himself on the top of the tower beside the rusted church bell hanging from its roof. Angelina crouched behind the front wall, peeking through to see the soldiers down below. Kevin came not long afterwards, and the three of them gathered, crouching.

Nodding to each other, Angelina went down the ladder into the church first. Leaping down, Jan found himself standing on a dusty wooden balcony overlooking the pews. They edged closer towards the edge. The soldiers were pulling up the wooden boards on the altar. They piled up the boards on the side as two of them went into the hole that appeared underneath. The officer watched on, the smile that had been on his face gone, replaced by a cold, hard expression. He kept his eyes on the hole, squinting.

One soldier came up the hole, his sleeves and face smudged with dirt. He looked around and pulled himself up. He turned around and leaned into the hole, pulling something out of it. Jan’s sight was blocked by his body. He pulled it up and patted it, sending dust flying to one side. The other soldier pulled himself up, and they made their way to the officer.

The soldier slightly struggled under the weight of the box. It was dark grey and even from the distance the intricate carvings were ancient and beautiful. Standing before the officer, he presented the box. The officer’s eyes widened and his hand, trembling, slowly brushed over the top. Cautiously, he opened the box. At his first try, it would not open. It was heavy, and the top would not open. After putting in all his strength, it opened with a loud creak.

As soon as he did, a bright light shone onto his face. His mouth gaped and his eyes widened even further. All the soldiers around him lowered their rifles and looked at it. They stepped back, not sure whether to be astonished or terrified. The priest covered his face with his hands and cried out in Polish. The officer began to smile.

“You have never seen this, have you, Vater?” He didn’t take his eyes off the artefact.

“No… It has been buried here for generations… What have you done? What calamity will you bring upon us?”

The officer chuckled and closed the box. The room suddenly became dark as the light receded. He took in a breath, still smiling widely. Jan turned to Angelina, but she was still intently watching the soldier. He edged closer to her and whispered.

“Angelina, should we take it?”

“There’s a battalion of Nazis out there. We won’t make it.” She kept her eyes on the box.

The officer started to walk out, puffing out his chest and striding confidently. The priest turned his head and followed him with his eyes, then stood up.

“What will you do with it?”

The officer stopped. He turned around and cocked his head at the priest.

“My apologies, Vater, but that is not something I can, nor would, inform you of. But worry not, it shall be put to good use, for the benefit of all mankind. We will be one step closer towards peace and order. Know this, Vater, that your cooperation has played a part in that.” He pointed his finger at the priest. “You have played a part in saving the human race.”

 “You have what you came here for. Will you spare us now?”

“Of course.” He stepped towards the priest. “Thank you for your help, Vater. I will spare you and this village.”

The priest sighed and looked down in relief, putting his hand on his chest.

“I will spare you all from further suffering.” He took out his handgun and shot the priest in the head. The priest fell backwards onto the altar floor, blood flowing out of the hole in his head. Jan’s heart almost jumped out of his chest from the sound of the gunshot.

“Unteroffizier.” The officer called out as he turned to go out of the church.

A soldier came trotting up to his side and saluted.

“Spare the villagers from further suffering as well.” He put his gun back in the holster. “That is to say, execute them all.”

“Jawohl!” shouted the soldier, before running out of the church.

Jan tensed up his arms, engaging his hidden blades, and ran towards the wall facing the front of the church and peeked through the gaps of the wooden boards. The soldier was speaking to the lieutenant who then barked his orders to his men. They started moving, surrounding the villagers and unslinging their rifles. Jan turned to Angelina; whose eyes were still locked onto the box slowly making its way out of the church.

“Angelina, we have to do something. Those villagers are going to die!”

“Quiet, Jan.”

Jan didn’t believe what he was hearing. He made his way next to her and spoke again.

“Angelina, they’re going to shoot all the villagers.”

“There’s nothing we can do, Jan.”

“But- “

Angelina turned her head towards him, her eyes sharp and annoyed. “And what exactly do you plan to do? Do you see how many soldiers are out there? Don’t be stupid. The only thing you’re going to be able to do is die along with them. You might kill a few Nazis while you’re at it, but in the end, you’ll still become a corpse just like the rest of them.

“There’s something bigger at stake here. Remember? The box? I don’t know what the hell that is, but I do know we can’t let the damned Templars get a hold of that box. The villagers are going to die, yes. There’s nothing we can do, except to let it happen. That might sound cruel to you, but that’s just how the world works. You can’t save everyone.”

Jan’s heart dropped. And then there were gunshots, screams. He moved towards the front, but Angelia caught him by the shoulder.

“Don’t look. You’re only going to make it worse for yourself.”

Men and women were shouting, screaming, begging for their lives. Babies and children cried, only to be followed by another volley of gunshots, and afterwards silence. Tears started forming in Jan’s eyes, and his head felt as if it was going to burst. His breathing was ragged, as ragged as the day his father had died.

“They’re going out. This is our chance. The soldiers are distracted with the shooting. Jan, stay up here. Me and Kevin will jump down, take the box, and throw it back up. Then we make our way back up the tower, run down to the back of the church and lose them in the woods.” She turned to Kevin. “Ready?”

Kevin nodded. Jan tried to calm himself down and kept his eyes fixed on the floor below. He tried to shut out the cries and shooting. Angelina and Kevin stood at the edge of the balcony. The soldiers carrying the box walked towards the door. As the box came right under them, Angelina and Kevin leapt down, blades flashing and the hem of their coats flying.

Angelina fell onto the soldier carrying the box, crushing him on the floor and burying her blades in his neck. Kevin fell on the man next to him, doing the same. Moving quickly, they got up and aimed at their blades at the necks of the two remaining soldiers. A blade went through one’s jaw, punching through his tongue. His eyes went wide. As Angelina pulled out the blade, she stabbed him again in the neck and kicked him back. He fell between the pews, spasming and gurgling blood. Kevin’s blades entered the other man’s neck, just as he was moving his rifle to block his attack. There were running footsteps in front of the church.

“Major Hessel! We found several guards guarding the road dead! They’d been stabbed!”

Jan looked towards the front and the officer turned back, his face pale and his eyes wide.

“Assassins! Get them! Secure the box! We cannot lose it! Kill them!”

The soldiers started turning around and aiming their rifles at the church.

“Jan!” Angelina shouted from down below.

She threw up the box and jumped behind a pew just as the shots began to come. Kevin leapt sidewards and climbed up the wall and onto the balcony. Angelina gritted her teeth and did the same, quickly climbing onto the balcony. Kevin went up the ladder first and turned around at the top of the tower. As Jan threw the box to him, the soldiers rushed inside the church and looked around.

“There! On the balcony!”

Shots rang out around Jan. He ducked and tried to avoid the gunshots. Angelina stood up, holding her Luger pistol. She started shooting back, and one of the soldiers fell as a shot hit his chest. At that, they ran between the pews and crouched.

“Go!” she screamed at Jan.

“They’re going up the tower!” shouted one of them as Jan pulled himself over the top of the tower.

A painful scream followed a shot before Angelina pulled herself up.

“Let’s move!”

They jumped over the handrail and onto the roof, running towards the back of the church. As they leapt down onto the clear patch of ground before the forest, a pair of soldiers each appeared from the sides of the church and shot at them. The three Assassins ran fast towards the forest and disappeared among the trees, shots hitting the trunks and bushes around them.

“They went into the forest!”

“Go after them, you idiots!”

The soldiers followed them into the forest, rifles at the ready. The three Assassins ran as fast as they could through the forest, jumping over the rocks, fallen logs, and brooks that came in their path. Jan looked back over his shoulder. In the distance, the soldiers desperately chased after the trio. At first, there was only four, but soon several more soldiers came out of the trees. Jan ran faster and caught up to Angelina.

“Where are we going?”

“Later. We have to lose them first.”

A shot hit a tree nearby, and Jan looked in the direction it came from. Three soldiers came out of the dense trees on their left. Two were running towards them, one was reloading his rifle. Behind them in the distance, obscured by the trunks and leaves was a small jeep parked by the side of a small path. The lights were still on and the doors open.

“Angelina! They’re trying to flank us!”

Angelina turned her head towards the soldiers and cursed under her breath. She turned to Kevin. “Are you okay with the box?”

Kevin nodded as he continued running, not saying a word and not turning his head. He held the box under his arm on his side, running faster than both Angelina and Jan.

“Jan, keep the box safe, I’ll try to deal with those two!”

Angelina stopped and took cover behind a tree. She unslung her rifle. She closed her eyes and steadied her breath, and then stepped out of cover. The soldiers stopped in their tracks and quickly tried to aim their rifles at her. As they raised the barrels, a shot rang out and one of them fell on their side, their chest quickly turning read. He screamed and desperately held onto his shirt, trying to stop the bleeding. The other soldier looked at his comrade and quickly ran behind a tree as Angelina shot again.

For a moment, Angelina and the soldier traded shots. She’d go behind the tree, reload, step out, and shoot. The soldier did the same. The soldier shouted at his comrades who were approaching in the distance. “I need backup! The bastard’s shooting!”

More soldiers came. They took cover behind trees and rocks, and some crouched and lay on the forest floor, shooting at Angelina. Angelina kept shooting back. Three soldiers had fallen by her shots. But more and more kept coming. They started coming from different directions, slowly encircling her. At this rate, she wasn’t going to make it.

“Kevin! Angelina’s in trouble!”

Kevin looked back his shoulder towards Angelina and then at Jan. Jan pleaded with his eyes, and he nodded. Together, they both turned their heels and ran in Angelina’s direction. Taking up positions behind two trees, they unslung their rifles. Looking at Jan, Kevin held up his hand in a fist, telling him to wait. He pointed at Angelina, and Jan nodded.

“Angelina!”

Angelina looked up from reloading. “What the hell are you doing? I told you to run! Get the hell out of here and get that box to safety!”

“We’re not leaving you. Come here, we’ll cover you!”

Angelina gritted her teeth, annoyed at their insistence of not leaving her behind. She peeked left and right. There were at least a dozen soldiers shooting at her now, not including the three she had shot. She sighed and nodded at Jan.

Jan nodded back and turned to Kevin. In unison, they stepped out of cover and started shooting at the soldiers in the distance. Some of the soldiers who had not been in cover jumped at the sudden shots. They quickly ran for cover, and Jan shot one in the side as he ran. Angelina took her chance. She stepped out of cover, fired a shot, and ran towards Jan and Kevin, who were still shooting. By the time she was almost there, the soldiers had recovered and were shooting back. The two Assassins kept shooting, going into cover only to reload and then going out again. Two more fell to Jan’s shots, but in the distance more of them were coming.

Angelina passed them, running further from the soldiers. Jan and Kevin fired their last shots before running after her. The soldiers shot after them, but most of their shots went wide. Coming out of the trees, they came upon a dirt road going through the forest.

“Where do we go?” Jan asked, looking back towards the forest, aiming his rifle.

The sound of approaching vehicles interrupted them. They looked to their side. A car and truck in the distance were coming quickly towards them. A shot came from the car and hit the ground next to Jan’s feet. With the soldiers approaching them from behind and the car and truck on their side, the Assassins started running into the other side of the forest. It was not as dense, with a lot of space and clearings in between the trees. The truck stopped when the Assassins began running, and a squad of soldiers quickly ran out, following them. The car turned into the forest and drove through the clearings.

Jan looked behind his shoulder. The soldiers that had been chasing them before had come out of the forest. They were now being pursued by more than two dozen soldiers and a car. Most of their shots went wide, but more and more hit nearby trees and the ground near their feet. The car started to have a hard time navigating the trees and had to reverse and turn sharply several times. Eventually, they stopped and got out of the car, running at the head of the chase.

A shot rang out, followed by a thud as Kevin fell to the ground. Kevin grunted as he covered the wound on his thigh. His hand was quickly coated by a thick layer of dark red blood. The soldiers from the car were coming close to him and reloading. Kevin pulled out his gun with his other hand and shot at them. One fell as a shot hit his chest, and the others took cover. Angelina and Jan started running to Kevin.

“Jan! The box!” Angelina shouted at him. The box had fallen from Kevin’s grip and was laying a few paces near his feet.

Jan nodded and ran towards it. As he was about to grab it, a cloud of dirt and dust hit his eyes. A shot hit the ground not far from his face. More shots rained down around him. He fell back and tried to bring himself up again. As he raised himself, a bullet grazed his arm. He screamed, and instinctively covered the wound with his hand. When he pulled his hand away, it was covered in blood.

“Jan!” Angelina shouted from behind him as she helped Kevin walk.

In front of him, the soldiers were coming near. Many had stopped and were taking cover, firing from behind logs and rocks. Jan took out his gun and started shooting blindly at them, the pain making his hand tremble and his head spin a little. Every time he tried to approach the box; the soldiers would focus their shots on it.

“Jan! Just leave it!” Angelina shouted from far behind him, hiding behind a tree and shooting her rifle.

Jan looked at the box, and back at Angelina, and at the soldiers. His eyes went back and forth between the three. He hesitated. Nothing seemed to be the right option. He stood up and took cover behind a tree. The forest was filled with the sound of gunfire. This must be what a warzone feels like.

Angelina was still shouting for him to run, but Jan tried one last time to get the box. A volley of shots hit greeted him. He pulled back his hand and screamed. Clenching his fists and gritting his teeth, he ran towards Angelina, shooting blindly behind him.

When he reached her, she lent herself to support Kevin and they started walking further into the forest where the trees started becoming denser again. Jan kept shooting back with his gun, covering their retreat. Before he turned to run, the soldiers were surrounding the box and shooting after him. A soldier ran towards the box, grabbed it, and ran back.

Jan turned away his head and started running, a few steps behind Angelina and Kevin. The shots fizzled out as the soldiers stopped following them. Jan was still gritting his teeth, and tears started forming in his eyes. Images of the villagers and the box flashed before his eyes. He wanted to scream.

Chapter Text

Warsaw, Poland – 26 September 1939

Jan sat by the doorway, cleaning his rifle with a piece of cloth he had found in the ruins of the kitchen. In the last three weeks, Jan went from never having shot a rifle in real combat to shooting it every few hours in the streets of Warsaw, helping the Polish soldiers and volunteers defend their capital. For the last few weeks, the Germans had slowly encircled Warsaw. With each day came more bad news as more neighborhoods fell and contact with more forts outside Warsaw were lost. The siege of Warsaw had truly begun, and Jan felt that the end of the war in Poland was near. The Polish army was still holding out, but for how long? So far, they had been able to repulse many assaults.

But things had got worse, much worse. The German army had launched an assault since yesterday, and they had lost many parts of the city. They were in the crumbling ruins of a three-storey townhouse on a street heading west out of Warsaw, towards Germany. They were on the second floor, and the sun shone on a corner of the room from where the floor had collapsed on the third floor, right underneath a hole in the roof. There were holes lining up the walls too, some were the size of bullet shots, but others Jan could climb through like a window. On the sides of those holes and windows stood the Polish soldiers, their faces bruised, bandaged, and blackened, their rifles at the ready in their arms.

Angelina stood at the table, looking down at a map of the borough. With her at the table were Major Tomczyk and Mieszko. Major Tomczyk was the leader of this company of soldiers that the three German Assassins had attached themselves to. At the start of the battle, he had had a hundred men under his command. Now, only fifty-one remained, including nine critically wounded. But Mieszko, he was an Assassin, a member of the Polish Brotherhood.

The two of them couldn’t have been more different. Major Tomczyk was a soldier through and through. His scar was the most prominent feature of his face. It went from above his left eye all the way to his jaw. His hair was cropped short, and his eyebrows were constantly furrowed, giving his dark brown eyes a harsh look. Jan avoided talking to him as much as he could. On the other hand, Jan liked Mieszko. He was as old as his father, but his wide smile and bright eyes made him look twenty years younger. His long, wavy, black hair was unkempt, and he rarely shaved, his beard covering the lower half of his face in the same black hair.

“Are you sure they are coming?” Major Tomczyk demanded. His words were sharp and full of doubt.

“They are, Major.” Angelina responded with no hint of irritation or annoyance. “I’m sure of it.”

“How can I trust you? You’re a German. For all I know, you’re leading us into a trap.” His hand went to his holster.

“Major.” Mieszko intervened, leaning his body forwards towards the Major. “I can assure you that Panna Angelina is on our side. She and her comrades have been fighting against the Germans in Warsaw ever since they arrived two weeks ago. I vouch for her. I’d bet my life on her.” He smiled.

The Major loosened his arm and sighed.

“Then, where are they?”

“They’ll be here soon.”

Stanislaw came through the doorway and stood next to Jan. He cleared his throat and all eyes were on him. Stanislaw was as young as Jan was, and they were both Assassins. They were the closest in age and experience, but they couldn’t interact much. His German was poor, and Jan spoke next to no Polish.

“They’re coming,” he announced.

Mieszko smiled and looked at the Major. The Major nodded and shouted to his men.

“Przygotujcie się!”

He knew what that meant at least. Get ready. Jan stood up and loaded a clip into the magazine. It was time to kill some Nazis.

Silence hung over the Assassins and their Polish comrades. The damaged buildings on both sides of the road were occupied by the fifty ambushers, including Jan, Angelina, Kevin, Mieszko, Stanislaw, and another Polish Assassin. The only sounds that hung over the street was the sound of approaching German engines and distant gunfire and artillery.

The column came into view. An armoured car with a tank gun in the lead. Behind it, a car with a machine gun where the backseat was supposed to be, followed by three trucks. At the rear, a motorcycle, a machine gun on the sidecar. He guessed at least forty men.

“Truck in the middle,” whispered Angelina behind him. “That’s our target.”

“Those machine guns are going to be a problem.” The Major took a deep breath and loosened his collar.

“I’ll take the one on the motorcycle,” announced Mieszko as he moved to a window further down the street. “Stanislaw, take the one on the car. Major, if you would be so kind as to handle the armoured car.”

The Major quietly barked his orders. A soldier came to the window with a rifle twice as long as Jan’s. The soldier deployed the retractable bipod underneath the barrel and set it on the windowsill. Checking the rifle, he moved and aimed directly for the tank’s fuel compartment. He nodded towards the Major. Angelina crouched in front of a hole next to Jan’s window and aimed.

“Aim for the wheels of that truck.”

Jan shifted his position and aimed down the sights of his rifle directly at the front wheel of the middle truck. He whispered his target to Angelina, and Angelina aimed at the back wheel.

The column proceeded slowly until they were caught between the two buildings. Jan’s heart beat out of his chest, and he took in a deep breath, steadying his aim. Three… two… one…

“Strzelaj!” shouted the Major.

A loud crack shattered the silence followed by an explosion. Pieces of burning metal flew through the air as gunshots rained on the Nazis from above. Jan and Angelina fired their rifles and blew holes into the truck’s tires. Blood spilled onto the road as Mieszko’s bullet went through the head of the machine gunner in the sidecar. The machine gunner on the back of the car fell to the ground, gripping his shoulder tightly as blood seeped through it.

Shot after shot rang out all around them. The Nazis in the truck quickly got out of their trucks and took cover behind the debris around them. Many fell dead as they ran to position. Jan could hear their desperate shouts and dying screams as he shot a soldier reloading his rifle. Gunshots hit the walls around him, forcing him to take cover. A Polish soldier fell in the next room, pulled towards the back of the room by his comrades as he cried.

Jan took three quick breaths and came out of cover. A soldier was aiming at him. Jan pulled the trigger, and the shot hit him in the torso. He screamed, but Jan quickly pulled the bolt and let the empty cartridge fall out. He found another in his sights and pulled the trigger. Pulled the bolt, aimed, fired. Pulled the bolt, aimed, fire.

Suddenly the shooting stopped as one of the German soldiers came out of cover with his hands above his head. Jan aimed at his chest and kept his finger on the trigger.

“We surrender!”

Jan glanced at the Major who was looking out the window, his eyebrows furrowed as he assessed the situation, keeping his handgun half-raised. Angelina came to him and together they looked down at the German soldiers who were coming out of cover with their hands above their head. The Major looked to Angelina and asked what she thought. Angelina leaned towards the window.

“Kill them. We have no use of prisoners. We need to leave no witnesses. Kill them all.”

The Major nodded and shouted the order to his men. The soldiers started shooting and one by one the German soldiers fell onto the ground, bleeding, screaming, dying. Jan caught a target in his sights. The soldier was running to cover, his hand covering his injured side. He started to pull the trigger but stopped just before he unleashed the bullet. His breathing became ragged as he kept following the soldier in his sights. He started to loosen his finger when Angelina shouted at him to take the shot.

The soldier fell. Jan’s bullet hit him in the shoulder. His helmet fell to the ground along with his rifle. But he wasn’t dead. He was groaning, crying, and muttering. Blood was flowing out of his mouth. Jan lowered his rifle and looked at him. He trembled, and his heart didn’t feel right. It felt heavy, and anxious. Another shot came, and the man’s brains spilt onto the road. Jan jumped back. Angelina stood with her rifle aimed at the soldier, its muzzle smoking from the shot she just took. She lowered her rifle as Jan looked on. She didn’t look at him back.

“Come.” She started towards the door leading to the stairs. “We need to get what’s in that truck.”

Jan stood there for a moment before following her. His hands felt numb.

An eerie silence hung over the street that had been a battlefield just a few minutes before. The only sound in the air was that of the flames of the burning armoured car. Angelina made her way through the rubble and corpses towards the middle truck. Jan kept his rifle up, aiming left and right just in case one of the corpses started moving and tried to shoot him. Mieszko was behind them, scanning the battlefield like he did. On the other side, Kevin and another Assassin came down and headed towards the same thing.

The truck was riddled with holes. Its tires were deflated, its underside lying empty on the ground, bringing the truck down just a bit. As they turned the corner and came to the opening at the back of the truck, everybody had their weapons aimed at it. But there was no one inside the truck, and there was only a large, metal box. Angelina lowered her weapon and smiled.

A moan came from the truck. At once, everybody raised their weapons again and looked up and down the truck. A German soldier lay on the road. Half his body was under the truck, and he was slowly crawling his way out. A trail of blood followed behind him. Trembling and pale, he looked up at them. His eyes widened in fear. His eyes pleaded with Jan, he seemed to say to him mercy, mercy. It tugged at his heartstrings, and his heart felt even heavier than it did before. He lowered his rifle.

“I-I surrender, please,” he said, coughing up blood. “Please. I have a family. My wife, she’s waiting for me. I-I have a three-month old daughter.”

Before Jan could say anything, Angelina called out to Kevin. Kevin raised his gun and shot him in the head. His brains splattered onto the grey street, and his head fell limp to the side, bending from his neck at an awkward angle. His eyes looked up at Jan, and Jan looked away.

Angelina slung her rifle behind her back and jumped into the truck. She pushed the box to the edge, whereupon Kevin and Mieszko pulled and brought it out. Jan and the other Polish Assassin hurried to them, helping them carry the box. His knees threatened to buckle under him when he first put his shoulder under it. The veins on his arm were visible, and he could’ve exploded from the pressure inside him. It was heavier than anything he had ever carried in his life before.

“Major.” Angelina shouted at Major Tomczyk who had just gone out of the building with some of his men, surveying the carnage and making sure none of their foes were still alive. “We’ll leave you to it, then.”

He gave a curt nod and barked orders at his men. The Polish soldiers started streaming out from both sides of the street as Jan and the Assassins made their way slowly to the safehouse.

The street was empty, but the sounds of gunfire, artillery, and bombs were much closer there. The Polish army still held the line several streets away, but it was only a matter of time until they break through. Jan heaved from carrying the box, but as the shattered storefront came into view, he gathered up all his remaining strength for the final stretch. Jan, Kevin, Mieszko, and a Polish Assassin named Patryk carried the box. Angelina and Stanislaw covered the front and rear, their rifles at the ready if anybody dared to ambush the group of six Assassins.

As they passed the empty doorframe flanked by shattered windows, three Assassins armed with rifles appeared inside. They were the first line of defence if the safehouse was attacked. Truth be told, it’s not much of a defence. What’s a couple of rifles going to do against a tank, or an entire platoon of well-trained German soldiers? They were forced to go here. The original Assassin hideout is now in German held territory. It was no longer safe, and most of the Assassins moved to this safehouse. Four remained behind to try and fight behind enemy lines, but they’ve heard nothing else after their first and last radio contact. Jan wondered what could’ve happened to them.

They carried the box into the backroom, where a flight of stairs led down into the reinforced basement. There were no lights. The electricity in the area had gone out days ago, and they only had enough power to run the basement. The basement door was opened, and Jan was grateful for the light. Carefully, they brought the box down and laid it in the middle of the room. Jan fell back onto a wall and slid down, heaving as he sat.

Angelina didn’t even settle in. She put down her rifle and went to work on the padlock securing the box. After several failed attempts, she took out her handgun and shot it. Jan closed his eyes. His ears rang, and it was painful on the inside. The padlock fell to the ground, broken in half. Angelina holstered her gun and lifted the lid open.

“Documents?” Mieszko wondered aloud as he took out several sheafs of paper. “It’s just a list of names and places.”

Jan stood up and went over to the box. Inside it were stacks of papers, some still white and fresh, others yellow with crumbling edges. At the bottom of the box were several thick books with featureless leather covers. The documents were mostly written in Polish, not that it required much knowledge of the language to read. Just like Mieszko said, it was names and places.

“Not just names, I think. What does this say?” Angelina asked Mieszko, showing one of the newer papers to him.

“It says ‘shopkeeper’. So, it lists down their occupations too?”

“So it seems.” Angelina took out half the papers and put them on the table, taking out one that was yellow, cracked, and crumbling. “This one’s in Latin. Seems much older.”

“But what the hell are they? Names, and what? A census?”

Angelina put aside the papers and reached into the bottom of the box. She picked up one of the books. Blowing on the cover and casting off the dust, she opened it to the first page. There was nothing on the page except for a single symbol, the meaning of which nobody in the room knew. None of them had ever seen it before, but to Jan it seemed like a stylised version of the number four, with the slanted line turned into a curve. Instead of ending at the top, it curved outward. When Jan suggested that it might be the number, Angelina wasn’t convinced.

The second page was no more help than the first. It was ancient, written in the style of medieval manuscripts, with a large, colourful, stylised letter on the top left beginning the paragraph. But these were no ordinary letters. They were not written in the Latin script, but rather something that Jan had never seen before. All the other Assassins spoke with each other, questioning what it was, but none knew.

“We need to get these documents out of the city,” announced Angelina as she closed the book. “It isn’t safe here, and we can’t decipher it here. Whatever it is, the Templars wanted it. That’s enough reason for us to hold it. We must get this back to Berlin, and maybe Essen.”

Essen, the ancient beating heart of the Assassin brotherhood in Germany. It was where the Grand Council was and where the Assassins had the highest presence in all of Germany. Jan had never been there, but every time instructions came for the Berlin Assassins, it came from Essen. His father once told him that unlike Berlin, the Assassins had a great ancient hideout, stretching all the way back to the Middle Ages. Having grown up in the Berlin bureau, Jan could not imagine it.

As the Assassins began packing the papers and books back into the box, an Assassin ran to them from the other room. He spoke quickly, with eyes wide open in confusion and sweat pouring down his forehead. Jan did not understand a word they were saying, but Mieszko didn’t seem to believe what was being said.

“What is it?” Angelina asked.

Mieszko turned back towards Angelina, his shoulders sagging as if a great weight had been put upon them.

“The army has started negotiations for surrender with the Germans.” Mieszko kept his head down, and with his eyebrows furrowed he continued. “They’re going to surrender. Warsaw is to be given up.”

Cries of disappointment and dismay filled the room as the Polish Assassins heard the news. They muttered, cursed, and covered their faces.

“Then there is not much else we can do here.” Angelina continued putting back the documents. “We must leave for Germany.”

Mieszko held her wrist and looked her in the eye with a gaze that could make Jan turn into stone.

“What do you mean there’s not much else we can do here? We have to continue the fight, even if the army doesn’t.”

“I’ve seen what they are capable of, Mieszko. An all-out war against them? We don’t stand a chance. You don’t stand a chance.” She shook his hand off. “Face reality. Warsaw is lost. If you wish to keep fighting, then leave the city. A lot of the Polish army retreated south, didn’t they? I suggest you join them. Or, you can join us, and help fight them from the inside.”

Mieszko opened his mouth but said nothing. Under the basement light above the table, he suddenly looked ten years older than he did in the battlefield.

But the Polish Assassins’ dilemma came to an abrupt end as explosions and gunshots came from above. The Assassins began shouting amongst themselves, not sure of what was happening. Angelina stopped her packing and froze. The door opened, and an Assassin ran in, bloodied and dirtied. He shouted to his comrades and then half of them took their weapons and went up.

“Verdammt,” cursed Angelina. “They’ve found this place. We won’t be able to get this damned box out of here now.”

“There is an escape route,” Mieszko told them as he came back from the door. “It is small, and you will have to crawl out. You can’t bring the box, but you can bring the documents in a bag. We will hold them, and we have to burn some of our own documents.”

“I’ll join you.” Angelina dropped the documents and took her rifle. “Jan, Kevin, move those documents into a bag. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can.” With that, she ran up the stairs and into the fray.

Jan threw two heavy books into the bag, but the rest of the documents didn’t fit.

“What do we do with the rest?” Jan asked Kevin.

Wordlessly, he picked up the sheafs of papers and threw them into the fire burning in the next room where the Polish Assassins were destroying their own records. Though he didn’t speak, Jan understood. Better to destroy it than leave it in Templar hands. Jan watched as the fire gradually ate through the paper, turning it black as coal before it would crumble into ashes. He slung the bag over his shoulder and took his rifle. He ran to the door and looked up to go up the stairs. Angelina appeared at the top, aiming her rifle towards the front of the shop as she moved back towards the wall.

“Angelina, it’s done,” Jan shouted. “We’ve got the documents, let’s go!”

“Go!” she shouted as she fired three shots. “I’ll hold them off, go!”

“What? Come on, go down and let’s-”

Before Jan could finish his sentence, Angelina fell down with her back to the wall. She screamed, clutching her blood-soaked thigh. Her rifle fell down the stairs and landed at Jan’s feet. Jan shouted at her, but then a German soldier appeared in front of Angelina. Angelina stared at him and then to Jan. Her mouth opened but before she could say anything, the soldier had shot her point blank in the head. Her blood covered the wall behind her, red and flowing. Her head fell limp, along with Jan’s own hands.

The soldier reloaded and looked down the basement. Jan couldn’t move his legs, and all his limbs felt heavy and numb. He looked straight into the barrel rifle, thinking this was where it would all end. He closed his eyes, and a shot rang out. But he didn’t fall. When he opened his eyes, the soldier had fallen back, his eyes open but lifeless. Kevin pulled him inside as a Polish Assassin fired several shots above.

Jan’s head spun as Kevin sat him down. The shouts and gunfire faded into the background as he lost the focus in his vision. He didn’t know what had happened to his arms. He could see them, but he couldn’t feel them. He moved them, but he felt nothing. Stanislaw put his hand on his shoulder and shook him.

“Jan, you must go. We will hold them off and give you time to escape. Come with me.” Stanislaw left him on the floor, moving towards the bookshelf in the room where they had opened the box.

Kevin came to him and pulled him up by the arm. He looked up at his face. Kevin’s eyes were sad, but firm. He nodded at Jan and released his grip. Without looking at Jan again, he walked after Stanislaw. Jan shook his head and ran after them.

Stanislaw and Kevin pulled the bookshelf to the side to reveal a metal door hidden behind it. When Stanislaw opened it, inside was a dark staircase downwards. There was no light, and nothing was visible beyond the first few steps. Kevin went in, and Jan followed. Stanislaw picked up a flashlight and came in after us. He shouted to the remaining Polish Assassins who were shooting up the staircase from the door.

They shouted back at him, and after exchanging a few more words, they shouted at him one last sentence and he shouted back the same at them.

“Nic nie jest prawdą, wszystko jest dozwolone!”

Then they pulled the bookshelf back into place, and Stanislaw closed the door. Jan was in complete darkness. Everything was pitch black until Stanislaw turned on his flashlight.

“Come,” he said as he moved to the front. “This tunnel will get us out.”

“What was that?”

“Our creed.”

They went down the stairs. After several minutes, a loud explosion rocked the entire building. Jan almost lost his footing.

“What was that?” Jan asked.

“The battle is over,” Stanislaw answered him. He did not look back. “Our brothers have bought us some time.” And then he continued down the stairs.

There were at least a dozen Assassins in that room. And they all gave their lives for whatever knowledge the books contained. Jan gripped the bag tightly and gritted his teeth. The last month had been horrible, but that day was hell. Three Assassins set out from Berlin, but only two are returning.

The stairs ended and they found themselves in a long, cold tunnel. Stanislaw lead the way, with Kevin following behind him and Jan at the back. As they walked down that dark, narrow tunnel, tears flowed down Jan’s cheeks. Silently he cried as he walked the long path out of the city.

The sun was setting as they came out of the hole in a forest outside of Warsaw. There was no one around, and there were no signs of civilisation. Behind them, small but visible was the city. Pillars of smoke dotted the skyline as aircraft flew above it like flocks of birds as they dropped bombs on the embattled city.

“Can you get back to Germany from here?” Stanislaw asked them as he finished covering back the wooden trapdoor with leaves and branches.

“Yes. Are you not joining us?”

“No,” he brushed the dirt off his hands. “I must continue our fight here. Some of our brothers and sisters followed the retreating army south. That is where I will head.” He pointed far off into the south.

“Alright. Thank you, Stanislaw.” Jan shook his hand. “I hope you get there safely, and show the Nazis hell.”

“I will try my best.” He smiled. “Whatever is in that book must be important. I leave it in your hands. I hope the German Brotherhood can decipher it, and end this war sooner than later.”

Jan hoped so too.

“Then, until we see each other again, Jan, Kevin.” He nodded towards Kevin.

“Until we see each other again, Stanislaw.”

Stanislaw parted ways with them. He went south, disappearing amongst the trees and bushes as Jan and Kevin made their way west, towards Germany.

Jan never saw him again.

Chapter Text

Location Unknown - Date Unknown

“Where are they?!”

Before Jan could attempt any answer, the torturer’s fist had met his jaw. The torturer stepped back and shook his hand, splattering the blood from his cheek all over the stained floor.

“This can all end now, Assassin. You can end it. All you need to do is tell us where your accomplices are in Berlin,” said the officer, repeating the same line he’s repeated over and over again in the last few months. In typical Templar fashion, the one doing the dirty work is the brute with no brains, with his sleeves pulled up to his elbows, his fingers caked with dried blood – Jan’s blood – and sweat pouring down his face. The officer meanwhile is decked in full Nazi gear: peaked cap, dark grey trench coat, red armband, and all. Jan responded the same way he had always responded.

He gathered it up as much as he could in his mouth, and then spit the blood onto the floor. A bit of it got on the officer’s shoes. Another miss, he thought. He’d missed more than he’d hit the mark, but his aim’s getting better. The officer looked down at his shoe with a mixture of disgust and disappointment, Jan’s favourites.

“A pity that all of you Assassins are such barbaric animals.” He said no more and turned towards the torturer. “Make sure he’s still breathing before you put him back into his cell.” Without a parting word, the officer left the room. Under his swelling eyelids, Jan could just see the adjutant bending down to wipe his shoes clean with a clean, white piece of cloth.

What always followed the officer’s exit was a barrage of punches, kicks, and hits with an assortment of tools. Sometimes, Jan would even end up on the floor, still tied to the chair that fell down along with him as the brute would kick him in the stomach endlessly. He never could remember well what happened towards the end. Half the time, he passed out. The other half, he was barely holding on, feeling that he was on the edge of death itself. But always, he survived.

Someone else would come in the room, bandage and stitch him up as best he could, and then they’d drag him back to his cell. Every morning, the door would open, and they would leave him stale bread and a glass of water. But in between breakfast – which was the only food he ever got – and the moments when he had to relieve himself with the bucket in the corner of the room, there was nothing to do. Early on, he exercised each day. He needed to keep his body fit for whenever it was that he could leave, but as time went on his body became weaker and weaker, and he felt he had no energy to lift himself up from the hard bed.

Did Kevin make it? He kept wondering to himself. They’d failed to go directly west towards Berlin. Instead, they had been forced to venture further south and into Silesia before hopefully turning back northwestwards towards Berlin. But the Nazis were hot on their pursuit every step of the way and had finally caught up to them. The details had become fuzzy, but he could just barely remember giving the bag to Kevin before holding off the Nazis for a day and a half before he was captured. On his knees, flanked by armed soldiers with an officer staring down at him, he thought he was going to die then and there. That might’ve been better, he thought. After all, instead they’d brought him here – wherever here is – and given him months and months of pain and suffering.

Where is Kevin now? Did he make it to Berlin? How is the war? Has Poland completely fallen by now? Has Hitler had his way? Jan feared escaping as much as he feared staying. He was afraid that when he got out, it would not be the same world that he had been taken from. Maybe, he didn’t even need to know. Maybe, he should just die there. After all, it’s been months, and no one’s come for him. He didn’t blame them either. The Assassins were already weak. There was nothing that they could’ve done. Better to try and end the regime than rescue him.

At times, a fever would take hold of him. These sleepless nights were the worst, as he felt constantly cold, but he would be drenched in sweat. The clothes he wore were uncomfortable. They had given him a shirt and a pair of trousers on arrival, and he was still wearing them now. But what was worst were the dreams. In those dreams, he would relive that night of broken glass, and see his father killed in front of his eyes once again. Yet there was nothing he could do. But there was one marked difference. Instead of the words he had said, in the dream his father only said, “It was your fault. If you had just listened to me and stayed at home, none of this would’ve happened. Do you understand what means Jan? You killed me. You killed me.”

Then Jan would jolt awake, tears streaming down his face, the fever still raging hot, his body still cold and wet with sweat. At times like these, he’d think dying is better than this.

One day, he was awoken by the sound of the metal door of the next cell opening. He held his breath and listened closely.

“Go in,” said a guard. But there was no movement. Then, a kick. “Are you deaf? Did you hear what I said? Get the hell in there.”

Whoever it was spit. A few punches and kicks followed before the door was locked. But before the guards left, the new prisoner started cursing them.

“You act all high and mighty now, but by the end of the war, you’ll be begging on your knees for mercy, you rotten bunch of krauts,” he shouted. But it wasn’t in German, but rather English. There was no mistake. The person in the cell next to him was British. But why’s there a Briton here? Had Britain joined the war? Or was he some sort of volunteer fighting for Poland? He could even be a British Assassin…

He went to the wall separating their cells. His muscles and joints all ached as he did, but he forced himself. There was a hole between in the wall. It was really small. At a glance, you wouldn’t even realise it. But Jan had been in this room for months. He went there and sat next to it, hoping that his whisper would be enough to get the Briton’s attention. He took in a deep breath, gathering all the knowledge of English that was in his head, and started to speak.

“Psst…”

“Who’s there?!” the Briton shouted. At this, the guard came and banged on his door, telling him to shut up.

“Psst…”

Silence. For a moment, there was no sound. But then rustling came from the next cell. The Briton must be looking for the source of the sound. Jan kept whispering until finally, he found the hole.

“Hello?” the Briton asked furtively.

“Hello.”

“Who the hell are you?” His voice was gruff and full of hostile caution. Jan thought that was normal. After all, he was speaking with a German accent.

“A prisoner like you. My name is Jan.”

“The hell you want with me? And why’s a German in prison?”

“Not all Germans are Nazis. I hate them. I tried to take something from them. They didn’t like it, so I’m here.”

“Am I supposed to just believe you like that? For all I know, you could be one of their damned spies.”

“That is true. But I am not. My father was killed in Kristallnacht.”

“In what?”

“Uh, crystal night? One, maybe two years ago, the Nazis attacked Jews in Germany. My father tried to help them. He was killed. Sorry, I do not speak English very well.”

“I see. Guess it’ll make no difference. My name’s Charles.”

“Ah, my brother has the same name.” Jan remembered his brother, but to his horror he could not remember his face. Maybe the beatings had damaged his brain. He felt anger and terror gathering in his heart but forced it back.

“Why would a German be named Charles?”

“I meant Karl.”

“Oh, that’s what you meant.”

“What date is it today?”

“I’m not sure, but I was captured around early August, so it must be late August or September now.”

“August?” The war had started on the first of September. Why would there be a British soldier here a month before the war even started? “August 1939?”

“What? No, of course not. The war hadn’t even started then. August 1940. Around a month ago.”

Jan’s heart sank. He had been here a year?

“1940? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m bloody sure, what of it?”

He sighed deeply. “I was captured around October 1939.”

“Good God, that’s almost a year ago.”

“Yes. I thought it was only a few months. But a year…”

Over the course of the next few days, the two spoke at length. At first, it was clear that Charles didn’t trust him. But as time went on, he became less guarded. Jan told Charles everything he could – his family, life in Germany, his hatred for the Nazis. But he kept everything related to the Assassins and Templars a secret. Finally, Charles told him who he was.

“I’m with the Independent Companies.”

“Independent Companies?”

“Yeah. Companies that don’t belong to any unit. I was dropped here in Silesia to gather information. We’d heard that the Nazis were doing something in the region, and that troops and assets had gathered here. We didn’t know what, so a team was sent. That being me. But it had only been two days when we were caught by a patrol and had to surrender. I don’t know what became of my men, but they dragged me here.”

Jan could guess what that something was. For some reason, the Templar presence in this area was heavy. The soldiers posted here were mostly regular German soldiers, but they were under the command of Templar officers. That much he knew. But what it is they’re doing here; he knew less of. If he had to guess, it must have something to do with that book they found in Warsaw.

It’s been almost a year. He needed to get out. The war was being fought, and he was just sitting here, half the time on the brink of death. He needed to live. What would become of his mother if he died too, only two years after father died? And he needed to find out who killed his father and slit the bastard’s throat. But for the moment, there was nothing he could do.

For the next few days, they spoke at length. Mainly about the war, but sometimes about themselves. Jan told him a highly redacted and sometimes fictional retelling of his life. Charles seemed to be telling the truth about his own life, but Jan had no way of knowing that. He was born in the countryside of England and had joined the army at eighteen. When the war broke out, he volunteered to join the independent companies, which were tasked with handling special operations.

Most surprisingly, Jan heard of the Germans’ invasion of Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and even France. Just three months ago, Italy joined the war on the side of Germany as well. The Templars were having their way, and there was barely anything the Assassins could do. All fell within two months, like a wave splashing and consuming a beach.

About three days later, the door opened, and the guards took Jan back for another session of interrogation. This time, he held out better than before. The presence of another prisoner gave him hope. Hope that it wasn’t over, that he could get out of here. Not that there was any way to do that right now, he knew. But just having someone there, not feeling isolated anymore was enough to give him a better grip.

But like the previous sessions, it ended with him slumped on the ground in relatively better conditions. They dragged him back to his cell, and he spent the next two days recovering before forcing himself to wake up. He dragged his aching body to the wall and sat down in the corner.

“Bloody hell, mate, what did they do to you?”

“Oh, this is normal. They’ve been doing this to me since I arrived.” He coughed violently. He’d kill to have water right now, but he had drunk the glass empty.

“That sounds bad. Are you alright?”

“I’ll live. But we need to get out of here, lieutenant.” He had taken to calling him by his rank. It felt more natural than to call him Charles on account of their age difference.

“I still haven’t figured out anything. The bastards have got the place well-guarded. Whatever it is they’re doing here, they don’t want me or anyone else to find out. Which begs the question. Why am I alive?”

“My bet is they’re going to do to you the same thing they’re doing to me. The only reason they’re keeping me alive is to know important information I have. They must want to know what you know too.”

Gunshots. Men shouting. Rushed footsteps outside their windows. Something was happening outside.

“Did you hear that?” he said to the lieutenant.

“Think Britain’s got here?”

“I doubt it. Must be something else.”

“Might be my men.”

More gunshots. And then a scream. A man’s.

“Lieutenant,” he called with the most determination and desperation he’s had ever since he got here. “This is our chance.”

“It’s nice that somebody’s giving the bastards some trouble, but we’re still stuck here, you know.”

Just as he ended his sentence, they heard guards coming down the hallway. Jan closed his eyes and listened closely. Two… no, three sets of footsteps.

“Quickly, hide in the corner,” Jan shouted as silently as he could.

“What?”

“Just do it, don’t let them see you. This is our chance.”

Jan didn’t wait for a reply. He jumped up and ran towards the corner next to the door. A searing pain tore through his thigh, but he bit his lip and endured it. This was his chance. What were they doing here? If his guess was right, they came here to kill them. That means whoever’s attacking them has a high chance of winning. If he could somehow link up with whoever these men were, he’d be saved.

But he was weak. If the guard came in, he could overpower one, maybe. But three? They were definitely going to be carrying their weapons. If he grabbed one from behind, he’d have to move quickly. The footsteps stopped in front of his cell. There was silence.

“Verdammt, where’s he?”

“The Englishman’s gone too. Could they have broken in and freed them?”

“Impossible, we’re still holding them. The commander is going to be furious… Quickly, open the door.”

Jan heard the key enter the lock, turn, and the hinges of the door creak noisily. He picked up the bucket and held it close to his chest. The guard entered with his rifle pointed forwards. He looked towards the left corner, the bed, and the corner with the hole. Before he could turn towards Jan, he had splashed the contents of the bucket onto the guard and hit his head with the full force of the bucket. With him staggering, Jan quickly ran behind him and got his neck in a lock. The guard outside was staring down his sights, aiming at him. But he hesitated, and in that split second of hesitation Jan pulled out the guard’s knife and threw it. It landed right between his eyes, and he slumped to the ground.

The other guard fired, but the shot hit his friend right in the stomach. Jan felt the guard’s body go limp and threw him onto the guard outside. The dying guard crashed into his comrade, and they fell down against the wall. Jan picked up the rifle and fired it aimlessly. Luckily, it hit the last guard right in the stomach.

“Oi, what’s going on out there? Jan? You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Jan shouted. He went to the first guard’s corpse and pulled out the keys. The last guard was still alive, watching his blood pour out of his stomach. Jan wanted to put him out of his misery, but the lieutenant came first. He limped to the next cell and unlocked the door. The lieutenant was already standing in front of the door. For the first time, they both beheld each other’s faces.

“You’re a lot younger than I thought you were,” the lieutenant said, smirking.

“I told you my age, didn’t I?”

The lieutenant stepped out and looked at the scene. Picking up a rifle, he slowly approached the bleeding guard.

“What do we do with him?”

“He’ll most likely die if we leave him. Give him a merciful end,” Jan said. He could not bear to see the pain on the man’s face.

“That’s mighty noble of you, after what they’ve done to you.”

The lieutenant stepped back and aimed his rifle straight at the guard’s head.

“Halt!” The shout came from the end of the hallway. Another guard stood there, a submachine gun in his hand aimed directly at them. His eyes were bloodshot, and his helmet and clothes caked with dirt and dust. “Get on your knees!”

“What’d he say?” the lieutenant asked Jan as he put down his rifle.

“He said to get on our knees.”

“Get on your knees now or I shoot!”

Both of them dropped what they were holding and went to their knees. But in response, the guard smirked before a cocking noise came from his submachine gun. Jan’s eyes widened in realisation and he got to his feet, running towards him. But he fell midway, the pain in his thigh too much to bear any longer. He closed his eyes in resignation and said a silent prayer for his mother and brother and awaited the bullets.

But they never came. Instead, there was a gurgling sound before the body slumped forwards, falling right next to Jan. The man grasped at his neck, blood spurting out of it. Jan looked up at the doorway.

A hooded figure stood in the doorway. Lean, lithe, agile, and intimidating the figure stood. With eyes hidden under the hood’s peak, the figure turned towards Jan. A blade slick with hot, red blood extended from the right wrist.

“Jan Adler?” the figure asked. It was the voice of a woman.

Chapter Text

Location Unknown – Date Unknown

“Jan Adler?” questioned the hooded figure standing above him. Her voice was sharp, sharper than any other voice he had ever heard in his life that just hearing it sent a shiver down his spine.

“Y-yes…?” stuttered Jan.

In response, she pulled back her hood to reveal her shoulder-length ashen blonde hair. Her striking blue eyes stared right into his soul, soft yet firm. Her lips were well-formed above her sharp chin. The first words that came to Jan’s mind were beautiful, and deadly.

“We’re here to rescue you.”

“We? Who sent you?”

“Will somebody please tell me what in the bloody hell is going on?” Jan’s eyes darted back to where Charles was still kneeling on the ground with his hands behind his head. They had spoken in German, and Jan had completely forgotten that he was here. With a single deft movement, she pulled out a handgun and aimed it directly at his head.

“Who is this?” she asked Jan in German.

“He’s a friend of mine. An English soldier sent here to find out what the Nazis are doing in the region. He got captured, along with his team.”

“Does he know?” Without even mentioning it, Jan knew what she meant. Does he know about us?

“No, I’ve been careful. I gave him vague and sometimes fake information.” If he had answered otherwise, Jan had a feeling that there’d be a bullet in Charles’ head by now. She lowered her gun and turned her attention to Jan.

“Let’s go. Can you walk?”

“A bit. My leg’s wounded.”

“You, Englishman.”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Help Jan up.”

“Gotcha.” Charles went over to Jan and lifted him up, giving his own shoulder for support. “Wait, why am I taking orders from her?”

Meanwhile, she had moved past them and stood before the bleeding guard. His hands were coated thick in blood, trying to stop the flow from his stomach. His face turned to fear as he looked up. He brought up his hands in front of him and pleaded.

“Please, no, I beg–”

Before he could finish his plea, his brains had been splattered onto the wall. Lowering her smoking gun, she knelt and took out his handgun before throwing it to Charles. For herself, she took the rifle before leading them out of the hallway.

“Your friend sure is something,” Charles whispered as he helped Jan move along.

They moved through a maze of corridors, turning left and right into narrow passages with old, unforgiving walls. The woman led them with little hesitation. At intersections, she’d only look in each direction once before wordlessly making a decision. She moved at a lightning pace, leaving Charles and Jan struggling to keep up.

“We’re nearly out of here,” she announced without turning back, going around the corner.

When the struggling pair turned the corner, the woman was standing flat against the wall, trying to make her figure the least visible. They tentatively followed in her footsteps. She turned to them and brought a finger to her mouth, telling them to be quiet.

“The room’s full of guards,” she whispered as she glanced into the room. “None of them are looking this way, so let’s get past this quick.”

As silent and quick as a fox, she leapt across and was already standing against the wall on the other side. She glanced inside and gestured for the two of them to go after her. As they limped past, Charles looked into the room and stopped for a moment before hurrying to the woman’s side.

“I’ve got to get in there,” he said as he let Jan down onto the floor.

“Huh? What for?” Jan asked, perplexed.

“Turns out my squad’s here.” He checked the gun’s magazine and put it back in. “They’re in there, prisoners of the krauts. I’ve got to get them out of there.”

“Don’t be crazy, lieutenant. There’s four of them in there, and they’re armed with rifles.”

“I can’t just leave them there!”

Jan turned to the woman. “Let’s help him.”

But she shook her head. “They didn’t send me here to rescue a bunch of soldiers. I’m here to get you out and you only. This soldier is already one more person than I wanted.”

“We can’t just leave them there.”

“We’ve got a more important war to fight. Saving a couple of soldiers isn’t going to solve our problems.”

Desperate, Jan turned back to Charles once more who was by now kneeling by the doorway. “It’s too risky, lieutenant. You’re not going to help anybody by dying here.”

“You two just go. I’ll handle this.”

“You heard him,” she said, her voice ice cold. “Let’s go.”

She hurried down the corridor towards the exit but turned around when she noticed Jan was not following her. She went back and knelt by Jan.

“What’s the problem? You can’t walk?”

Clenching his fist and full of determination, he looked her straight in her sharp, clear eyes.

“I’m not going. I’m going to help Charles.”

“What? That’s ridiculous. You’re injured. We need to get out of here.”

“I’ll do what I can, but I am not leaving him.”

“Look, my orders were to get you out. Have you forgotten what we’re fighting? Every day you’re in here means one less Assassin out there bringing the fight to the Templars.”

“I’m not going to leave them.”

They stared at each other for a while. They said nothing, but there was a silent tug of war between them. Each tried to keep up their hard look, hoping the other side would surrender. But Jan didn’t. Finally, the woman sighed.

“Fine,” she said as she moved next to Charles. “When I take one down, cover me.”

“Got it.”

With the same agility and speed she had used before, she rushed into her room. Her light steps made no sound as she approached the back of the closest guard. Before he even knew what was happening to him, she had jammed her wrist blade into his neck. Not wasting a single second, she pulled out his gun, used his dying body as a shield, and released two shots. One smoking guard fell flat onto the ground behind him as the bullet entered his eye. The other was luckier, the shot hitting his arm. The three other guards realised what was happening, grabbed their weapons, and took cover. Before the battle could commence, Charles had shot one more.

The gunfight commenced as the two remaining guards opened fire with their rifles. As one finished shooting, the other would shoot, keeping up a barrage of gunfire on the trio. Behind the cover of the now-dead guard, she retreated towards the doorway. Safe behind the cover of the wall, she took out her rifle and started shooting. She shot dead the guard who had been hit in the arm before turning her attention to the remaining two.

“We need to end this quickly. The longer we shoot, the more likely the guards outside will hear.” She lowered her rifle and threw it to Jan. “Give me covering fire. Make sure not to hit me.”

Jan picked up the rifle. It felt much heavier in his hands than it did back in Warsaw. But it wasn’t the rifle. His hands were thin, and he had lost much of his strength. Gathering what was left of it, he dragged himself to the edge of the doorway and propped himself on the wall. They were being shot at. Jan and Charles looked at each other, waiting for their moment. When a lull appeared, in unison they brought their guns into the room and started shooting in the general direction of the guards. The guards took cover as they reloaded, and that’s when the woman swiftly ran in and leapt onto them. In their last moments, they looked like prey realising that their predator had caught them. She landed between them, her blades digging deep into the back of their necks. She pulled them out, and Jan saw the thick coat of red, hot blood on them. Charles ran in and went to the cells. Shouting and chatter immediately came from them.

“It’s the lieutenant!”

“Sir, you’re okay!”

“Let’s get you all out of here,” he said as he searched a corpse for the keys.

“Here,” she said, throwing the keys in front of him before leaving the room and guarding the corridor.

All in all, there were nine men released. Jan made sure to stay outside as well. It’d do no good for them to be too acquainted with the Assassins. Charles was another matter. He trusted him to understand what to keep to himself. Once they were all free, Charles brought them out. Some of them were armed with the weapons they took from the dead guards.

“We’re ready, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Without a word, she started speeding down the corridor again. Charles helped Jan like before, as he deflected questions from his men. After more turns and intersections, they finally reached the outside. The bodies of several dead guards were strewn in front of them, some with gunshots and some with stab marks. In the distance, several shots rang out, sending a flock of birds flying into the air.

Jan looked up behind him to see where he had been imprisoned all along: an old, medieval castle in the middle of a dense forest of pine trees. The sun was setting in the distant west, and the air was becoming colder.

“Where in the bloody world are we, sir?” one of the soldiers asked.

“I don’t have a clue.”

“Kynsburg Castle, Silesia. We’re near to the village of Kynau.” She pointed west. “Around 11 kilometers that way is the city of Valdrich.”

Suddenly, someone appeared from the forest. The soldiers quickly raised their guns, only to find another Assassin standing in front of the trees.

“Can we move?”

He nodded. His movements were familiar, and his clothes too…

“Kevin?” Jan asked out loud.

Kevin pulled back his hood to reveal his friendly face and curly brown hair. He smiled at Jan and the two shared a hug. They weren’t together long in Poland, but the constant danger and pressure had made them close. Jan was glad that there was such a friendly face to him amongst all these strangers.

“Let’s move,” she said to Jan, raising her rifle. “We need to split. They can’t come with us.”

Jan went to Charles and spoke to him.

“Looks like this is where we split up.”

Charles looked over Jan’s shoulder and saw Kevin and the woman. Understanding, he nodded and clasped Jan’s shoulder.

“Alright, I’m glad to have met you, Jan. I don’t know who or what the bloody hell you people are, but as long as you’re fighting against the Nazis you’re a friend in my book.”

“Will you be alright?”

“We’ll find our way out. Let’s keep up the fight, eh?”

“Until Hitler goes to hell.

“I like that. I hope we’ll meet again, Jan. Hopefully, under far better circumstances.” He smirked. “Godspeed.”

With that, the two groups split up. The soldiers headed west, while the three Assassins made their way east. Kevin helped Jan as they silently crept through the forest. It was growing dark, and they needed to make their way to wherever it was they were going quickly.

They made their way through the trees and reached a river. They kept walking along the river until they found a bridge which they then crossed. A few hundred metres from the bridge, they reached a road and on one side a car hidden behind a couple trees and bushes. The woman took the driver’s seat, while Kevin brought Jan into the back. She started the engine, and they were on their way.

Seeing her in the driver’s seat and Kevin by his side reminded me of Angelina. Like an unwelcome lightning, the image flashed before his eyes again. Her shouting, shooting, and then her lifeless body falling onto the ground, her blood splattered all over the wall behind her. Jan held his breath. He wanted to breathe but couldn’t. He was too deep in. But when he saw Kevin, he was pulled back to reality and the air started flowing through him again. And that’s when a thought occurred to him.

“I haven’t learnt your name yet,” he said to the woman. She looked at his reflection in the rearview mirror.

“Elisabeth.”

Fifteen minutes later, the sun was no longer in the now blue sky. They arrived at a grand, pastel-coloured 19th century manor. They pulled up in front of the stairway leading to the front doors. Elisabeth turned off the engine and left the car, knocking on the grand, wooden front doors. Jan could not see who opened it, but after a brief conversation Elisabeth returned to the car and told Kevin to bring him out. As Kevin helped Jan up the stairs, Elisabeth and the car disappeared into the darkening forest.

At the top of the stairs, a servant was waiting along with a well-dressed woman. She was clearly not expecting visitors. She was wearing a robe over her nightgown, and her hair was let down. There was no trace of make up on her face. Kevin and a servant brought Jan up to a second-floor room and laid him on the bed. They took his clothes off and made him comfortable before leaving him alone.

Bare pastel yellow walls, white ceiling, and white curtains. Besides the bed and the nightstands, there was chair next to the window. Jan was under the covers, but still he felt cold. The fatigue of the day began to catch up to him, and soon he was drifting into sleep. He felt like he was sinking into the bed. He wondered if this were how clouds felt like? Nonsense, of course. He knew what clouds were made of. But for the first time in almost a year, Jan could sleep soundly on a soft, comfortable bed.

Chapter Text

Kreisau, Silesia, Germany – September 1940

“Answer and this will all be over, Assassin,” said the officer before the guard delivered yet another kick in his stomach. When Jan didn’t reply, the guard kept kicking and kicking until Jan started coughing blood and teeth. He kicked him in the face too, and he could barely see through his heavily bruised eyes. The guard grabbed a fistful of Jan’s hair and jerked him up.

Jan couldn’t breathe. There was no face, only darkness on the guard’s face. But skin slowly started appearing from the side, and with it the features of the face. But when the face was finally revealed, what he saw was the face of his father.

“So, are you going to answer, Jan? Are you going to disobey me, the Brotherhood again? Are you?!”

Jan woke up. His entire body ached. Filtered sunlight streamed through the windows. It was the hottest he’d ever felt in his life. He was burning under the blankets, his entire body covered in a thick coat of sweat. He threw away the blanket and sat up.

Just a dream, he told himself. It was just a dream.

There was a knock on the there before it slowly opened to reveal the face of someone he didn’t know. By his well-dressed, black-and-white clothing, he was a most likely a servant.

“Good morning, sir, breakfast is ready. The master and missus are awaiting you in the dining room, along with your companions.”

Without a look at him or a single word more, the servant pulled his head back out and closed the door. Jan slumped back onto the bed, letting his muscles relax. He knew it was a dream, and yet a part of him had feared that the guard with his father’s face would come through that door.

He didn’t know when they came in, but there was a clean, white shirt and a pair of grey trousers on the chair, along with a towel. Jan couldn’t decide between washing up or eating breakfast first. But his stomach felt empty. He hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s breakfast of a delicious loaf of stale bread. He got up, wiped his body down with the towel, and got dressed. When he finally found the dining room, Elisabeth and Kevin were sitting in their chairs along with a well-dressed man with combed black hair and a suit and the woman he saw last night. Jan nodded to the two Assassins but stopped a few paces from the table when both the man and woman stood up.

“Gut getroffen, Jan. My name is Helmuth James, Graf von Moltke. This is my wife, Freya.” Graf? A title of nobility. That explained the luxurious house. Jan introduced himself and, after shaking hands, took his seat next to Kevin across from the von Moltkes.

After a brief light exchange, the servants came in with food. The mouthwatering smell reached him before they even entered. A feast was arranged in front of them: a variety of breads, meat, cheese, boiled eggs, honey. For drinks, they had tea. His current hunger and the hunger accumulated over several months threatened to burst out. It took all Jan had in him to not immediately jump for the meat.

After von Moltke finished his prayer, they began to eat. Jan was in heaven. After months of stale bread, all the food tasted like they were made by the best chefs in Germany. Is this what the high classes ate? They tasted nothing like the cheap bread his mother sold at the bakery.

Through their conversation at lunch, Jan had learnt of everything that happened since his capture. The war had expanded greatly and had now reached almost all parts of Europe. Poland had been defeated after the Soviets too invaded from the east and was not split between Germany and the Soviet Union. Germany now occupied Sweden, Norway, Belgium, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, and most of France. Italy had joined the war on Germany’s side and had joined the invasion of France as well as beginning their own invasions of British Somaliland and Egypt. The Soviets too had annexed Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, parts of Romania, and had fought a war with Finland. And now, the German Luftwaffe is relentlessly bombing England. But as they kept talking, Jan wondered if von Moltke knew who they were.

“When will you depart for Berlin?” he asked as he cut a portion of cheese.

“Before lunch, if Jan is feeling better,” Elisabeth replied.

“I feel fine. A bit sore, but I can move just fine.”

“I see. I’m glad that you got out of there safely, Jan,” he nodded towards Jan, who nodded back. “They took over the castle not long after they invaded Poland. Only God knows what they’ve been doing in there.”

“Isn’t it just a prison? They kept me prisoner all that time and all they did was beat me up and interrogate me.”

“I believe it’s something much more than that. Silesia is relatively safe – it’s still part of Germany after all. But they’ve moved a lot of troops into the region. I myself am part of the Abwehr, and I can tell you that these men they’re moving into Silesia are not regular military.”

Jan tensed up. If he was with the army, why were they with them? Instinctively, his grip on the knife changed. Did Elisabeth and Kevin not know? Or is he an informant, maybe even a fellow Assassin?

“You can relax, Jan,” von Moltke said, pointing his fork at Jan’s knife. “I was drafted into the army. It was not my choice. And I’m only serving as an expert on martial law and international public law. Let’s not have violence in my house. I know your people can hold your own in combat.”

“You know who, what we are?”

He nodded. “Of course, I do. I don’t know the details of your organisation, but I am aware of its general activities and beliefs. Not that I agree with them, mind you. But there are not many who dare stand against Hitler’s regime. It is my duty to help a fellow man in need.”

“You don’t agree with what we do?”

“No. Believe me, it’s not because of love for Hitler or the Nazis. But what is your primary weapon in this war against Hitler?”

Jan didn’t answer. What was he talking about?

“Violence. And violence can only breed more violence. I suppose you wish to kill Hitler?”

“You don’t?”

“No, actually I don’t. Imagine what will happen if he does get killed. The war will end?”

“Yes, and the world will have peace with one evil gone.”

“Hitler is not the only person in this country, in this world even, that believes in what he believes. If you were to kill him, you’d only make a martyr out of him. They’ll carry his face and name into battle, singing songs in his praise and use it as further motivation and justification to continue this brutal war and its brutal objectives. No, that’s not what I want at all.

“He’s going against the Geneva Convention, treating the peoples whose land Germany now occupies brutally and inhumanely. He’s going against every civilised code of conduct humanity has. In the face of that, he should be arrested and put on trial. We should show that his violation of the system does not go unpunished. He shall be brought before justice, his crimes made clear in front of the whole world, and rightful judgment passed on him. In so doing, someone who has rejected this system is in the end brought to justice by the system.”

All other conversation has died down. Only the clanking of cutlery and the voices of von Moltke and Jan filled the room. He was at von Moltke’s house as a guest, but he could barely contain himself. What does he know about justice? Was his father killed by Nazis on the streets of Berlin as they unleashed violence on the Jews in the city? What right does he have to lecture him about this?

“So, what’s your plan to ending this bloody conflict?”

“Germany will lose.”

Everyone at the table fell silent. Not because they were abhorred by the idea. If the table were full of Nazis, that would’ve been the case. But everyone here would welcome such a scenario. But such a scenario is nonsense.

“Sorry?” Jan asked with his mouth agape.

“I believe Germany will lose. There is no way that we can win this war, especially if the Americans join.”

“The United States is part of the war?” Jan asked no one in particular at the table.

“No, the United States has so far remained neutral,” answered Freya von Moltke.

“The Americans are still selling supplies to the British and the French, and they show no signs of stopping. Instead, Hitler has ordered these merchant ships attacked. The Americans may be nominally neutral now but continue to provoke them and they’ll come. And when that time comes, a new, better Germany will arise. We must prepare for that day.”

“Well, while you’re preparing for that day, we’ll make that day come true,” Jan declared proudly.

Their conversation was at an end. After breakfast, they bathed and made ready for their journey to Berlin. Von Moltke went ahead of them, to return to his job with the Abwehr. Despite their heated conversation, von Moltke was friendly and hospitable to the moment he left. That left Jan feeling a bit guilty for letting his temper rise. Once they were all ready, the three Assassins assembled in front of the door and bade their farewells to Freya.

“Be careful, friends. There are many of them in this area. I pray that you may arrive at your destination unharmed.” With concern and a smile on her face, Freya waved us goodbye.

We got in the car, again with Elisabeth at the wheel. This time, Jan sat alone in the back. This setup reminded him of the day he left Berlin, when Uncle Rudolf and Yannik picked him up at his house to attend the Brotherhood meeting. He wondered how Uncle Rudolf was doing. He hoped – no, he knew Uncle Rudolf was alive. He was smart and cautious. He wanted to see Uncle Rudolf, see the face of someone who’d remind him of home because for the last year, he did not have a home.

And his mother. Was she still working at the bakery? Was she safe? If only Karl were home, he could protect her. But at least there’s Uncle Rudolf. Rather than let his worries plague him throughout the trip, he leaned back onto the seat and let himself fall asleep as he watched the trees and pastures pass by.

He didn’t know how long he slept, but when he woke up it was pitch black. Their only source of light was the moon in the night sky and the car’s front lights illuminating their path. He yawned and stretched his aching body before bringing himself between the two Assassins in front.

“Have we reached Berlin yet?” he asked, looking around to find anything he could recognise.

“We’re not going to Berlin,” Elisabeth replied. “We’re going to Essen.”

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – September 1940

The car comes to a halt in front of a nondescript café on a nondescript street. It was pitch black outside. Not a single lamp illuminated the deserted street, hemmed as it was by anonymous buildings on both sides. After Elisabeth cut the engine, there was complete silence. Jan couldn’t help but look around, wary of the darkness. He wasn’t afraid of ghosts or spirits – he didn’t believe in those. But he was afraid that if someone pulled him into that darkness, he’d never return.

Without any of his hesitation, Elisabeth and Kevin left the car. The cold wind bit into Jan, all the way to his bones. Autumn was here, and anyone need only stand in the street to know it. Instead of going to the front door, the two Assassins led him into a side alley just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. It was even darker here, but they knew exactly where they were and how far their destination was.

The footsteps stopped. Elisabeth knocked on what sounded like a wooden door, then waited. It wasn’t as cold here, but Jan was still shivering from the cold. There was no response, so Elisabeth knocked again. This time, they heard footsteps coming. Light appeared under the door, and it slowly got brighter as the footsteps got closer. The door opened just slightly, enough to shine light on Elisabeth’s beautiful but tired features.

“Do you know what time it is?” the man from behind the door demanded.

“I don’t, actually,” Elisabeth replied indifferently.

“It’s 3 in the morning.” The man made sure to put special emphasis on the word morning. He sighed and continued.

“Who are you?”

“We’re but blades in a crowd.”

The door closed, followed by the sound of a lock being opened, before the man finally welcomed them in. Jan came in last, and he was grateful to be out of that cold. The man closed the door behind him and looked at them. He was wearing plain yellow pyjamas. He probably wore glasses, because his eyes kept squinting at them. His square face was lined with a few wrinkles. If Jan had to guess, he was middle aged. Contrary to his sleepy appearance, his short hair was neatly combed to both sides, divided straight in the middle of his head.

“Fräulein Lisbeth, you look awful.” He said that as he put a gun he was holding behind his back into a nearby drawer. “Have you been driving all night?”

“All day actually. We’ve just come from Silesia. May we see the Council?”

“I told you what time it was. Everyone’s asleep. Is it urgent?”

“Not really but–”

“Then you should all get some sleep first. I think there are empty beds.”

“There always is these days,” she said, her voice tinged with sadness and hopelessness. She took the lantern from the man before leading them down the stairs.

At the bottom of the stairs, she pushed a brick on the wall to the side and was met with a clicking sound. Kevin then pushed the wall in front. It swung open as if it was as light as a door. They went in and closed the door behind them. What followed what a mazelike set of corridors and intersections, reminding Jan of the corridors of the castle he had been forced to call home for almost a year.

They haven’t said anything, but Jan was sure they were going to the Assassin headquarters. Father had taught him that it was in Essen, but he had never been outside of Berlin before the invasion of Poland. The walls around him are old, made with crumbling, dusty bricks that were far older than he was.

Finally, they reached a dead end. But inscribed in black upon the wall facing them was the emblem of the Assassins. It was slightly faded, but still in good enough condition for it to be visible in the dim light of the lantern. Elisabeth pushed the brick in the centre of the emblem and the wall slid open, revealing a room partly lit by candles around the walls. At its centre, an Assassin stood in his robes with a rifle aimed straight at Elisabeth.

“Oh, you’re back,” he said as he lowered his rifle. “I take it it was a success.”

As they chatted, Jan looked at his surroundings. The room was filled with furniture and decorations pulled straight out of a Renaissance painting. It was more accurately an intersection, with each doorway leading to a dimly lit corridor. In the room itself, there were tables at each corner holding candles. On the walls above the doorways were red banners lined in gold with the fading emblem of the Assassins on each of them. They would’ve looked more impressive if it weren’t for the numerous spiderwebs covering them.

“I’ll inform the Council. They’ll probably want to see you first thing in the morning.” Jan could not see the man’s face in the dim light, hidden by the peak of his hood. But his voice was deep and firm, and his shoulders broad. A perfect man to keep watch at night.

“Are we at the headquarters?” Jan asked, wishing not for an answer but for confirmation.

“Yes,” the man said. “Welcome to the bastion of the Brotherhood in Germany.”

A bastion of dust, spiderwebs, faded banners, and outdated technology was all that came to Jan’s mind when he said those words. The man soon left them. Jan followed Elisabeth’s lead to reach a side room in one of the corridors. Inside were several beds, most of which was empty.

“Take any bed you want,” she half-whispered. “Any empty ones don’t have an owner anymore.”

She closed the door and left him alone in the dark room, with only a single candle next to the door giving him light. He disrobed, taking everything off except his underclothes, and lay down on the bed closest to him. He was exhausted. Every part of his body ached with exhaustion, and even the hard bed gave him comfort in that state. But he couldn’t just fall asleep like that. Elisabeth’s words haunted him. Or to be more specific, one of her words haunted him. Any empty ones don’t have an owner anymore.

At some point, he fell asleep because he was once again in that interrogation room. He was sitting in the chair. The torturer was hitting him with all his might, kicking him in the stomach. When did the chair fall? The officer was still asking his questions, but he was shouting. Jan felt the officer’s spit on his face. But then, it began shaking. He looked up, and saw the faceless torturer over him, shaking him endlessly and with such force that he felt he was about to vomit.

“Wake up, Jan.”

Jan opened his eyes and sat up in the bed. He half-expected to see the officer or the faceless torturer, but it was only Elisabeth. His head spun, and his entire body felt damp with sweat.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jan said, rubbing his temples. “What’s happening?”

“The Council wants to see you.”

“Right now?”

“You should be able to take a shower first,” she said, glancing at his soaked undershirt.

After Elisabeth left, Jan took some time to reorient himself before pulling himself out of bed. He went out, but Elisabeth had neglected to tell him where the bathroom was. After asking a passing Assassin, he showered and was about to put on the same underclothes he was wearing before when an Assassin came to him and handed him a robe and some clothes.

It wasn’t like his robe in Berlin, which was more like a dark trench coat which he wore over his regular clothes. This was an actual Assassin robe, made by and for Assassins. It was black and had a hood connected to it with a pronounced beak that would hide the wearer’s face from light from above. Underneath it, he wore a standard white shirt, grey black trousers, a belt, and black shoes. When he went outside the bathroom, the same Assassin was waiting for him and led him to the Council chamber.

The chamber was vast, longer than it was wide. Intimidating old pillars lined the walls on either side and in between each was a yellow banner. Its borders were black, and on each was the Assassin emblem in the same colour. They were old – probably in the decades if not centuries – but were better kept than the ones he’d seen up front. The tall ceiling curved in, giving the appearance of the interior of an upturned stone boat. The entire place felt like it was frozen in time, as candles flanked either side of the red carpet. The entire place felt like a cathedral.

At the end of the carpet, Jan stood before the Assassin Council. They were looking down at him from the balcony that formed a half-circle in front of him. Five of them stood before him, the distance between each equal. They wore identical elaborate grey robes. In the dim light, it took Jan a while to realise that the brown panels behind them were the backs of their wooden chairs, each engraved with the Assassin emblem in a circle at the top. The one standing in the middle was doubtless the Mentor.

“Jan Adler, son of Ernst Adler.” The Mentor spoke in a deep yet shaky voice. “The Brotherhood asked you to go to Poland, a battlefield unlike you had ever seen before.”

“There, you and your brother and sister retrieved an artefact of great importance to the Templars,” continued the man on his left. “A book which contents are unknown, written in an unknown language.”

This time, the man on his right spoke. “Then you were attacked. One of our sisters killed, you fled with your brother to bring us the artefact.”

“But your journey did not end there,” said the man on the far left. “You were captured, and for almost a year you were a prisoner of the Templars.”

“And yet,” spoke the last one, the man on the far right, “You did not break. You did not divulge our secrets, nor betray our Brotherhood. Why do you fight? Why do you struggle?”

Jan looked at their hidden faces, dark and grim in the firelight. They wanted an answer. He was being tested, that much he knew. But tested for what? That, he was unsure of. He looked at them each in turn, staring into the darkness in which their eyes should be. He clenched his fists and gathered his resolve. And then, he spoke.

“It is my birthright. Just as my brother is an Assassin, just as my father was before him, just as his father was before him, and all that came before. It is our, my duty to follow in their footsteps to protect the innocent, protect justice and freedom.”

“Justice, you say. Justice for the people, or justice for your father?” asked to the Mentor’s right.

Jan’s throat tightened. All the events of that night flashed before his eyes again. The ambush. The soldier aiming at his father. The sky-splitting shot. His father’s body in his hands, the life slowly draining out of him.

“Both,” he answered, just managing to keep his voice steady. “My father believed in the Creed, believed in the Brotherhood. I don’t want to let his death be in vain. I wish to continue the work he started, to carry the torch he held.”

“Do you seek revenge?” asked the Master on the far right. They locked eyes, or at least Jan thought they did.

“Yes.” The Master would be able to tell if he was lying, so there was no point in that.

“Revenge will consume you, Jan,” the Mentor began. “There is no comfort in there, no relief. Revenge will only cloud your mind, your judgment, and lead to your own fall. What happened to your father was a tragedy, and when the time comes the Templars will pay. But there are much bigger stakes at hand, bigger than any one of us.”

Jan held his gaze, but it took everything he had to keep his emotions in check. He was trembling as he heard those words. He desperately tried to push down the words floating in his mind. It’s easy for you to say. You didn’t watch your own father slowly die in front of you.

Silence. None of the Masters said anything. They merely kept their eyes on him, watching him. He felt like holes were being drilled through his soul.

The Masters gathered behind the Mentor’s chair. Jan couldn’t make any words. He only knew they were discussing him, whispering. It wasn’t long before they all returned to their chairs.

“Very well,” announced the Mentor. “Out of the dark, you come into the light. From the light, you will return to the dark. Are you prepared to travel the eagle’s path?”

“Yes.” Of course I am. It’s what he had trained for all his life. The eagle’s path was his life. Outside of it, there was nothing.

“Then drink.”

The wall in front of him opened, the bricks parting before his eyes. They revealed an alcove, with the emblem of the Assassins painted black on the wall. In front of it stood a goblet of gold on a marble stand. He stepped forward and held it in his hands. Inscribed upon it were the words Fraternitatem Numquam Periculare. If only he knew Latin. He raised it to his lips and drank it until no drop remained.

Wine, he thought. He had only ever drunk it in small amounts, certainly never an entire goblet’s worth. It was sour, and as it travelled down his throat, he felt like his neck muscles were being pulled inwards. This must be what they called strong alcohol. As it spread throughout his body, so too did the warmth. His head started spinning and he stepped back into the centre of the half-circle.

He hit something – no, someone. He turned around, and all five Masters stood around him. The Mentor started speaking.

“These are the words spoken by our ancestors, and by all our Brothers and Sisters from the hills of the levant to the fjords of the North. The words that lay at the heard of our Creed.”

“Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.” One of the other Masters said it, but Jan could not make out who as his vision started blurring.

“Hide in plain sight.” Another.

“Never compromise the Brotherhood.” One more, but not a single one followed. Instead, they all broke out in unison.

“Nichts ist wahr, alles ist erlaubt.”

“May these tenets be branded into your mind and your heart. Follow them and be uplifted. Break at them at your own peril.” The Mentor paused, before unleashing the final words: “Rise, Assassin.”

As Jan raised his head, Mentor nodded at him and one by one they left, leaving him in the centre of the half-circle. But when it came for the final one to leave, he lingered. He stared at Jan, standing only a few paces in front of him. Somehow, Jan knew it was the man on the far left. Perhaps from the way he carried himself, or from his posture. But either way, Jan knew it. The Master stepped forward, and the fire light illuminated the bottom half of his face.

“Once you are feeling better, young Assassin, come visit my study.”

Without another word, he turned around and started walking out of the sanctuary. Jan staggered after him. But his head was spinning horribly, and he couldn’t maintain his balance.

“Wait!” he shouted as he lost his footing. “Wh-who are you?”

“Elisabeth will know.” And then he left.

Chapter Text

Brotherhood Sanctuary, Essen, Germany – September 1940

Jan went looking for Elisabeth. Still not knowing the layout of the place, he had to ask for directions from the few passing Assassins that he met. Eventually, he came to a shooting range. It was more accurately just a long hall with bullet-ridden targets on the far end, and an improvised shooting gallery made of planks of wood held together by rusting nails. She was aiming down her rifle when Jan came into the hall.

Her shot seemed to crack the very air in the hall. Instinctively, Jan closed his ears and grimaced. Gunshots are loud, but down there in what was basically a cave, surrounded by stone walls on all sides, Jan’s ears ached. As his hearing returned, he touched his ears to make sure no blood was flowing and, more importantly, that his ear drums were intact.

It was then he noticed her taking off a headband, but it had flaps of leather attached on each side covering both ears. She turned around and noticed Jan’s presence. Her temple was red from the grip of the headband.

“Oh, hello,” she said as she put down her rifle. “The initiation ceremony’s done?”

“Yeah, a little heads up would’ve been nice.” Nobody had told Jan basically anything ever since he left his cell in Silesia. “I completely forgot that I haven’t been initiated yet.” After all, it all felt real and serious. The gunfights, the battle, the torture. He was in a literal warzone, and a prisoner of the Templars for almost a year. Anyone would think he was already a full-fledged Assassin, including himself.

“What’s passed is past.” She smiled and downed a bottle of water. She straightened out her long, blonde hair. There was something otherworldly about it. Its blonde colour was no different from the other blonde women he’d seen, but hers seemed to be glowing. He thought he could see strands of grey and silver amongst the golden strands, but when she moved it vanished.

“What’re you looking at?” She was staring daggers at him. She wasn’t scowling, but she wasn’t smiling either. There was a deadly caution in her eyes, as if to say if you keep looking at me like that the target isn’t going to be the only one with a bullet in it. Jan averted his gaze and felt the blood rush to his cheeks. Then he remembered what he came for.

“After the initiation ceremony as the Masters left one after the other, one stayed behind and stared at me,” he began. He had no idea how Elisabeth would respond to this. “He told me to come see him, and he said to ask you about it.”

“Was he the one sitting on the far left?”

He nodded. She sighed.

“What?” Jan had expected recognition, or maybe confusion. Not a sigh.

“Nothing. Come with me.” She threw the headband with its odd flaps onto a crate and went straight out of the room.

Jan followed two paces behind her, closely following her steps. First, it was at the castle in Silesia. Then, when he first came here. And now, this. Every time, it seemed like she knew her way around whereas he was as lost as a young boy. This Elisabeth intrigued him. Who was she? What is she?

“How old are you?” he blurted out without thinking.

“Why do you ask?” she didn’t stop as she answered him.

“Just curious.”

“I see.”

Guess I’m not getting a straight answer.

Eventually they reached a simple wooden door. With Jan next to her, Elisabeth knocked loudly on the door.

“Come in,” called out a voice from inside.

Elisabeth opened the door, and they came into a cozy, warm study. On the far and left walls were bookshelves filled to the brim with heavy tomes. On the right was a fireplace, the heat of the flames welcome on Jan’s skin. The halls they were in were not cold, but they were a bit chilly. A luxurious red and gold carpet lay on the ground. Right in front of the bookshelves on the far walls was a large, oaken desk. Jan didn’t know much about carpentry, but by the carvings on the front the desk looked ancient and sturdy. Sitting behind it was a Master, still decked in the robes he had worn for Jan’s initiation but with his hood pulled back.

“Ah, I was waiting for you two.” He stood up and walked to the front of the desk. “You sure took your time.”

His appearance took Jan by his surprise. The Masters on the Council were the most revered of the Brotherhood. They had decades of experience and wisdom beyond the grasp of other, younger Assassins. And yet here stood a man in front of him, one of the Masters on the Council, and he was no older than his father. Beneath the robe, his body was lean, strong, and fit. He was tall, just slightly above Jan. His face was fresh, showing no wrinkles in the orange light of the fire. His brown hair was combed neatly, and his facial hair was recently shaven.

“Welcome, Elisabeth, Jan. Do close the door. It’s quite chilly.”

The words stoic and wise usually came to Jan’s mind when thinking of Masters on the Council. But he was smiling warmly at him, welcoming even. Unlike a master, or a wise grandfather, he felt more like a kind but skilled older brother.

“Was there really any need for that mysterious introduction?” she asked, her tone clearly annoyed.

“Come now, Elisabeth, even as Assassins we must have a little fun once in a while?”

“Even during a war?”

“Especially during a war. Morale and joy keep a long way in keeping the morale of troops high.”

He chuckled to himself, with no response from either of the younger Assassins. Then, he turned to Jan and stood straight.

“Allow me to introduce myself, initiate. Lutz Börngen, Master Assassin, and youngest member of the Brotherhood Council, at your service.” He finished his introduction with an exaggerated bow.

Jan nodded and followed up with his own introduction, which was technically unnecessary.

“You must be wondering why I asked you here,” he asked Jan as he went back to his seat behind the desk. “If you’ll pardon me the cliché line.”

“Well, yes, I am curious. I’m also curious why you had me ask Elisabeth.”

“Oh, that was just a bit of fun,” he said. After a pause, he continued. “But that’s not what you meant, is it?”

“No, it’s not.”

“Well, all your questions will be answered promptly. But first of all, Jan, why do you fight for the Assassins?”

“I already answered that at the initiation,” Jan thought, his mind going back to the sudden rite he had just finished. Nobody even bothered to tell me about it.

“Yes, I know. But when faced with a test, we rarely answer the full truth. We’d rather give an answer that would increase our chances of passing or please the asker. I don’t doubt that you were truthful with what you said, but I don’t believe that you were truthful about the degree.”

“The degree?”

“Indeed. Following in your brother’s, father’s, grandfather’s ancestors’ footsteps, carrying their torch, fighting for what’s right – justice, equality, freedom – but also revenge. What I’m asking you now is, which one weighs the heaviest?”

Jan didn’t immediately answer, mostly because he himself was not sure. His mind told him that it was the former, that he was doing this because it was the path laid out for him. But his heart said otherwise – he desperately wanted to find whoever was responsible for the murder of his father and slit the Templar’s throat. As Jan contemplated, he looked into Lutz’s eyes – they were large, bright, and sharp. The kind that could make people shed their defenses, being stripped bare just by one glance. At once, he knew that there was no lying.

“If I’m being honest, I don’t know myself. I like to think that I’m doing it because it’s the right thing, but I feel so much anger and hatred for what happened to my father. The injustice of it all. I can’t say for sure that that’s not what’s driving me forward.”

Lutz smiled, looking pleased.

“Driving me forward,” he repeated. “An honest answer. Good. I disagree with the Council,” he said as he picked up a pen from his desk and played with it. “I don’t think revenge is such a bad thing. As you said, it drives you forward. Of course, you can’t let it consume you completely. That’d defeat the purpose. But at times, we forget why we’re fighting the Templars. Like right now. What is the Council doing as Hitler and his cronies invade Europe, bomb Britain, sink merchant ships, and murdering anybody they brand as lower than themselves? Absolutely nothing. Hiding behind the arguments that we should wait or we must assess the situation, or worse: there’s nothing we can do at the moment.”

Jan clenched his fists. Those sounded eerily similar to what had happened on Kristallnacht. And what did their wisdom lead to? The death of father.

“They say that this is the wise decision, that we must conserve our numbers. More Assassins are being killed as we speak. But I ask you, Jan.” He pointed his finger at Jan. “Conserve our numbers for what?”

A lot of what he was saying was right. What was the point of all this waiting around? To ‘conserve our numbers’? But then, what for? Isn’t remaining underground and not fighting for the sake of our survival just cowardice?

“So, Jan, what do you think?”

“I think you’re right. We shouldn’t be cowering here, doing nothing. We should take the fight to them, make them think twice about killing more of our brothers and sisters.”

Lutz smiled.

“Well-said.”

He then nodded to Elisabeth, who nodded back and opened the door. She looked left and right down the hallway and then closed it back, before nodding once more. Satisfied, Lutz came closer to Jan. As he came closer, the left half of his face was hidden by the shadows. He looked like an apparition come to haunt Jan for his sins. If this was what the people whose lives ended as the hands of the Assassins last saw in their lives, he would be terrified. And rightly so.

“Not all the Assassins are blind to the folly of the Council.” His tone had become more serious, having lost its lightness and humour. “There are those among us who remember the Creed, and what we stand for. Those among us who remember the Templars for what they truly are. Not simply those who believe in an opposing ideology, but monsters and beasts ready to consume the world for their own benefit. Those among us who remember well the struggles of our forebears – Altair during the Crusades, Ezio in the Renaissance, Connor in America.

“It is against the express wishes of the Council. We act to bring this war to an end before it can go any further, to bring the fight to the Templars. We will not go down into the darkness silently. If we are to go down, then we will bring them with us. It is tough. Whereas most Assassins need only to conceal themselves from two sides, our opponents and the world for their and our own safety, we must conceal ourselves from three – our own brothers.”

He stepped aside and looked into the flames burning in the fireplace. Looking deadlier and older than he did just mere moments ago.

“It is a sad thing that I must say: conceal ourselves from our own brothers. What have the Assassins come to? But we must do what we must.”

He turned back to Jan and held out his hand.

“So, Jan Adler, son of Ernst Adler, will you join us?”

Jan looked into his face and into Elisabeth’s. After so many years of hiding, creeping, avoiding, for the first time Jan felt that this was the Brotherhood. The flame in his heart started burning as intensely as the fireplace, maybe even more so. His decision was made. He held out his hand and placed it on Lutz’s.

“I will.”

As Lutz did not have anything for them yet, he asked them to rest and prepare themselves for the coming escalation of the war. Jan and Elisabeth made their farewells and left his study. He had something on his mind, something that had been bugging him since Lutz’s speech.

“Elisabeth.”

“What?”

“Was my rescue his plan as well?”

“Yes. After Kevin came with the artefact, as part of the Council he heard what happened. We began searching for you, trying to find where they had imprisoned you. I don’t know why he put so much effort into it.”

“He’s young for a Master on the Council.”

“He’s the youngest Assassin Master ever on the Council.”

“How old is he?”

“Ten years older than you.”

Ten years… He was only twenty eight.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – February 1941

The bell above the door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. A man entered, decked in the uniform of a soldier of the Wehrmacht, the helmet under his hand.

“Guten Tag!” shouted the bartender from behind the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Guten Tag. Just a beer, bitte.” He took the seat closest to the door, just in case an emergency forces him to run out.

Sitting two seats away from him was a woman, whose presence was a stark contrast to the simple interior of the pub. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin. She was the perfect image of a true German woman. She wore a bright red skirt with a white shirt with long sleeves on top. Drinking a glass of liquor at the bar, she looked like one of those beautiful women in American movies.

“Who’s that?” he asked the bartender when his beer arrived.

“I don’t know myself. First time I’ve seen her.”

He took a sip of his beer. It was average fare, good enough for an afternoon break. His attention was completely on the woman near him, whose looks seemed to be too good for this setting. He had about an hour for a break. Maybe he should make a move. A young, dashing soldier like him at wartime, with light brown hair and a strong, masculine face. Who wouldn’t want him? But even so, he hesitated. Should he move, should he not? Just as he was lost in hesitation, she spoke up first.

“Good weather, isn’t it?” she said out of the blue, looking not at him but behind him at the bright sunlight bathing the street.

“It is.” He took this as a signal, and decided the answer was move. “What’s a dame like you doing at a place like this at this time of day?”

“Can’t a lady have a drink? You’re having one too.”

“But of course. I meant no disrespect. It’s just unsettling that there’s such a beautiful lady at a modest establishment such as this. Are you perhaps an actress?”

“Oh, and what makes you say that?”

“You certainly look like one.”

“What about you? Are you a soldier?” she said, smirking.

“Yes, I am. But how did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” She sipped her drink and turned her attention back to the bar, looking at nowhere in particular.

“May I sit closer?” he asked, making sure to sound as polite as possible.

“I don’t mind, Mr. Soldier.” She smiled, and that smile made him move as fast as possible to the seat next to her.

“The name’s Niels.”

“Eva.”

They spent the next few minutes in lively and flirty conversation. During that time, he kept his eyes on her. Shapely legs, delicate arms, red lips. She was like a dream come true to him. And then as abruptly, his image of her seemed to shatter as she stood up from her seat, put down a few bills, and gathered her things.

“Are you leaving?” he said, his heart sinking.

But then she came close and whispered in his ear.

“My hotel is not far from here. Room 212. I’ll be waiting.”

He did not know when she left, because his entire being froze. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was going to spend an afternoon with such a woman? But he had only around fifty minutes left. Could he make it? But chances like this don’t come often. To hell with it, he thought as he paid for his beer and walked as fast as he could to the hotel.

Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, he roamed the corridors looking for the room number. When he found it, he stood in front and tidied up his hair and shirt. Then, he knocked. She told him to come inside. He found the door unlocked, and slowly opened it. Closing it behind him, he hesitantly walked into the room where she was sitting seductively on the bed, smiling – no, smirking – at him. And then he felt the cold end of a gun on the side of his head.

“Skipping work now, are we?” said the man at the other end of the gun. His face was hidden in the darkness of the unlit backroom under a hood. “Quite the pervert, aren’t you?”

***

“2 p.m.,” Jan said, checking the clock. “That’s about an hour from now.”

“Hmm…” Lutz rubbed his chin as they looked out onto the street. “To think that the delivery was today. Just our luck. Well, there’s no going around it. We’ll have to seize it today.”

They turned around and walked back to the bathroom where the soldier was tied up, his face bloodied from the beatings Elisabeth had given him.

“W-w-what? What do you want?” he said through his bruised lips, alarmed. “I’ve told you everything I know. Please, don’t kill me.”

“Well, we’ll find out. Jan, Elisabeth, rendezvous with Kevin and secure the weapons. We can’t win this war if we don’t have weapons and ammunition. I’ll stay here and keep watch over our little friend,” Lutz ordered, before turning back to the soldier.

“We’ll know soon enough if you told us the truth. If I find any indication that you didn’t, I’ll put a bullet through you myself.”

Exiting the building, the two made their way to a nondescript car waiting outside the armoury. Kevin sat at the wheel, his eyes trained on the heavy metal gates guarded by a squad of soldiers.

“The delivery’s coming today at 2 p.m.,” Jan told him.

His eyes widened in surprise. And then he signed.

That’s what the guard said?

“Yes.” They had spent the last six months training together, and during that time Jan had learnt the sign language Kevin used. He was surprised to learn that a sign language is not the same as a spoken language that just simply uses signs. It has its own grammar and sentence structure even. Jan’s skill in forming sentences was still basic, but his understanding was far better.

Then let’s start, he signed.

He started driving away from the armoury and stopped at their predetermined pickup point. As Jan and Elisabeth left the car, Kevin drove away. And then they waited. But it didn’t take long before a truck stopped in front of them. They went into the back, and the truck resumed its drive.

There were two sets of uniforms. Although they were slightly bloodied around the collar, they were still wearable. As they had to change before they arrive, they stripped down at the covered back of the truck. Jan was a bit nervous since Elisabeth was changing right behind him, although he made sure not to turn around until she said something first. When she did, he turned around.

Her body was a bit too small for the uniform, but she would just pass for a soldier as long as she didn’t talk and didn’t make eye contact. The truck stopped again, and this time Jan went out of the back and went into the passenger seat next to Kevin. He’d have to do the speaking for them, otherwise the Nazis would get suspicious.

They continued their journey and reached the gate. When they stopped in front, a guard approached Jan and gave a Nazi salute. Jan responded in kind.

“Who are you? Where’s Alois?” asked the guard.

“Fahrer Arne Rodenburg! Alois is out sick. Sore throat.”

The guard stared at Jan, trying to figure him out. But Jan kept his gaze firmly on the guard’s eyes, not even glancing away for a second. This seemed to work, as the guard stepped back and allowed them to go in. The gates opened in front of them, and Kevin drove them in.

They parked the truck at the only warehouse with opened garages. Inside was a motley of different types of crates and boxes, all filled with weapons, explosives, ammunition, and spare parts. A thin soldier with an arrogant face and glasses resting as his nose came towards them, holding a sheaf of papers in his hand.

“Truck 44, aren’t you?” he said, flipping the papers. “Rifles, ammunition, and grenades?”

“Ja, mein Herr!”

“A bit late, aren’t you?”

“Apologies, sir. Had to step out for a bathroom break.”

“Tsk. Make sure you’re not late the next time or I’ll file a report on you myself.” He gestured to the men inside the warehouse to move the crates and boxes into the truck.

Jan and Kevin helped them move the heavy weapons and crates. Jan could not believe how many there were. With just this truckload, they could supply the Brotherhood for at least a year. They did that for the next few minutes while Elisabeth stood at the side, making her presence as unnoticeable as possible.

But it didn’t work. A soldier on break approached her and started making talk, offering her a cigarette.

“Sure you don’t want one?”

She shook her head.

“Something wrong with your voice? Why don’t you speak?”

Elisabeth kept her face down, but this just irritated him more. The guard moved in front of her and pulled her face up but stepped back when he saw it.

“Y-y-you…”

“He’s just a boy,” Jan said as he came along, huffing and puffing as a pretext. “A pretty one, ain’t he? Made me think he was a girl too at first.” He laughed.

“Oh,” the guard laughed, following his lead but a bit awkwardly. “Is that so? Would you like a cigarette?”

Jan didn’t smoke, but accepting one seemed the best course of action. With a slight nod of his head, he took one, had it lit, and put it in his mouth. He coughed. It tasted so bitter, like ash. Why would anyone smoke?

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Jan said in between coughs. “It’s just that I haven’t smoked much.”

They chatted for the next few minutes as the others finished up loading the crates. Elisabeth kept herself at a distance, until finally disappearing at some point in the conversation. They didn’t talk about much. Just idle chatter about the weather, their daily lives, the war, the weather. Once they were done, Jan threw away his cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He bade farewell to the guard and headed straight for the truck. That’s when the officer from before stopped them.

“Wait!” he called out after them, the sheaf of papers under his arm. “You must sign the papers.”

“Ah, right.” Jan went ahead and picked up the pen, signing his fake name. All the while, the officer looked down at him with piercing eyes. He looked at him, at Kevin, and at Elisabeth alternately. But then he kept his gaze on Elisabeth.

“Wait… you… you’re a woman, aren’t you?” he said out loud, stepping back from Jan.

“No, sir, he’s just young, and looks like a woman. I was mistaken too at first,” the guard from earlier said.

“No, you bumbling idiot. That is a woman. Who are you? What are you doing here? Arrest them immediately!”

Damn. Without a word, Kevin and Elisabeth jumped into the truck while Jan kicked away the hesitant guards. Jan jumped onto the side of the truck as Kevin hit the gas. The truck quickly rushed towards the exit, leaving the soldiers who were shouting in confusion. A few shots were fired, but they completely missed their marks.

When they reached the gate, the guards must have been notified because they were looking back and forth between the gate and the truck. Finally, they started shooting, which made Kevin speed up instead. Jan held on tightly as the truck slammed into the door, the soldiers jumping out of the way. They had vehicles to chase them with, but they were out too quickly for anyone to chase after them.

As the sun slowly disappeared over the western horizon, a nondescript car came onto the forest road they had hidden the truck in. Jan instinctively reached for his handgun, and so did the other two. But when Lutz exited the driver’s seat, they relaxed and went towards him.

“So, how was it?”

“See for yourself,” Jan said, pointing to the truck.

Lutz went into the truck and inspected the crates. Rifles, handguns, cartridges, grenades, mines, barbed wire, and even a few handguns. Jan had never seen so many weapons in the possession of the Brotherhood. Lutz smiled and grabbed his shoulder.

“Good job, Jan, Elisabeth, Kevin. With this, the Brotherhood stands even more of a fighting chance.”

“Looks like the intel was good.”

“Yes.” Lutz jumped out of the truck and went to the trunk of the car. It opened to reveal the guard they had captured earlier. Beaten, bloodied, with a bruise on his left eye. Lutz had tied his hands and feet and gagged his mouth as well. At seeing the Assassins, the soldier’s eyes widened in fear and panic.

“Great news, Herr Soldat, your intel was good.”

He relaxed, and his breathing slowed.

“Kill him,” Lutz said. Jan looked at him, not sure whether he had heard right or not. But the soldier jumped back and wiggled like a fish out of water, trying to scream through the cloth over his mouth but only managing an inaudible grunt.

“I’m sorry, did you say kill him?”

“Yes. He’s done his part. He’s of no use to us now.”

“He told us the truth.”

“Yes, and he has helped our cause. But think, Jan. If we let him go, what’ll he do? He’ll go back to them and report what happened to him. It’ll be bad news for us. We must do what’s necessary for the Brotherhood.”

He put his hand on Jan’s shoulder and encouraged him.

Jan moved towards the soldier, who was visibly agitated. His veins were visible, his eyes wide and mad, his body covered in sweat mixed with dried blood. Jan pinned him down and closed his eyes. Suddenly, the blade in his hand felt heavy, heavier than it had ever been. But he’d done this before. Far more than this. He’d killed dozens, both by blade and gun. On the streets of Berlin the night his father died. The battlefields of Poland. What’s one more?

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he engaged his blade, planting it firmly in the soldier’s neck. He spasmed for a while, before finally going limp, the colour slowly going out of his face.

Jan stepped back as Kevin took the body, dug a hole, and buried it. Lutz stayed by Jan’s side and held his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Jan. As Assassins, as the ones fighting for what’s right, sometimes we must make difficult, cold choices. If we had let him go, it would’ve endangered the Brotherhood. Put the lives of our brothers and sisters at risk. You wouldn’t want that either, would you? This was what we had to do.”

Elisabeth went in the car with Lutz, while Kevin and Jan took the truck. As he walked towards the truck, the words he had thought himself haunted him.

What’s one more?

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – February 1941

As Jan was entering the Sanctuary, the raised voices of the Council echoed through the hall. Under the gaze of the five Masters, a broad-shouldered man in a beige coat and brown fedora hat stood straight and proud. It must have been important, because the Council were rarely this fired up. Standing back was probably the wise decision.

“Why weren’t we informed of this before?” demanded Temidare, who originally hailed from German West Africa. With his burly appearance, well-built physique, and sharp intellect, he was the Master Jan was most intimidated by.

“We were concerned for his safety, Masters. We needed him deep inside the SS. As you can understand, this is a very difficult thing to do.”

“Are you insinuating that the German Brotherhood cannot be trusted with this secret?” asked the haughty Eleonora Pfennig, the second youngest and only female member of the Council.

“That is not what we meant, madam.”

“You do realise that Germany is the domain of the German Brotherhood, do you not?”

“I understand that, and so does the American Mentor.”

“Then I don’t see how you can justify not informing us of this.”

At those words, the Mentor – the German one – raised his hand, commanding silence.

“Frau Pfennig, although I agree that this is unwelcome news, I can also understand the reasoning of the Americans.” He turned to the American. “We understand that this was a critical and dangerous mission, and to have allowed more people to know would have been a danger to the agent.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“However,” he said pointedly. “We are still the German Brotherhood. We are most responsible for what is happening in our own country. You should have informed us. I am confident that there are no traitors in the Brotherhood, but I also understand the need for secrecy. You could’ve told only the Council.”

“How arrogant of you, Herr Pash. You and your Mentor. Do you think that the Brotherhood in Germany is dead?” There was clear indignation in Master Temidare’s voice.

For a while, Pash remained silent as he looked down at the floor. But then, he raised his head and his voice along with it.

“It’s as good as dead. What have you done, Masters, while the Nazis took control of your country? Embroiled it in this war? You’ve just stood by and watched!”

The Masters stood aghast, except for Lutz who kept looking at Pash with a mild curiosity.

“How dare you!” shouted Temidare.

“We will keep in mind that we should inform you of further developments in the future. Now if you’ll excuse us, lady, gentlemen. We have a war to fight.”

Without a word or a glance, Pash turned around to leave the Sanctuary. It was then that Jan noticed that he wasn’t alone, and that there was a female Assassin walking behind him, her hood pulled up to cover her face. Within seconds after his last words, they had left the hall.

“This Pash is certainly rude,” commented Temidare.

“Yes, but even more so, it’s troubling if we don’t even know what our own allies are doing in the war.”

As the Masters discussed, the Mentor saw Jan in the darkness of the chamber and gestured for him to come forward.

“Welcome back, Jan. A job well done, along with Elisabeth and Kevin. Even if it wasn’t approved by the other members of the Council.” The Mentor shot a look at Lutz, who smiled innocently and nodded. “But that being the case, we now have the tools with which we can continue our fight against the Templars and their Nazi puppets.”

“What shall we do, Masters?” Jan asked eagerly. His arms were twitching to engage his blades.

“Nothing, in the meantime.”

“Nothing?” It was all Jan could do to suppress his frustration. He went through all that trouble with the weapons to do nothing?

“Yes, we must be cautious. We are greatly outnumbered, outgunned, and outpowered. We are David, and they are Goliath.”

“Yes,” Lutz said. His agreement surprised Jan, until he continued to speak. “But David won because he struck Goliath first.”

“Because he believed his God was on his side. There is nothing on our side.” His look at Lutz became more pointed, but he returned his attention to Jan.

“For now, you should rest, Jan. We must save up our strength and energy for the fight to come.”

Jan bowed, and the Masters descended from their seats and disappeared into the darkness behind.

“For the fight to come…” He muttered. What fight? He’d spent the last half a year training, and even this mission wasn’t approved by the Council? If only Lutz were the Mentor, they’d be out bringing the fight to the Templars. As those thoughts filled Jan’s mind, Lutz appeared.

“Come with me, Jan. There is something we must discuss.”

They arrived at Lutz’s study, where Elisabeth and Kevin joined them soon afterwards. He lit the fire and went behind his desk. Jan debated with himself whether to ask or not. He was curious, and it seemed important. But if the Council really wanted to keep it a secret, they wouldn’t have let Jan enter the Sanctuary while it was going on. As the flame cackled, Jan spoke.

“Who was that?”

“Who was who?”

“The man you spoke with. The American.”

“Ah, Boris Pash. He is an Assassin with the American Brotherhood. The woman following him must have been one of his Assassins.”

“Did he do something wrong?”

“You heard it yourself, didn’t you?”

“Only pieces. Not enough to form a full picture.”

“He’s got an agent in the SS.”

The Schutzstaffel – the so-called “Protection Squadron”. The only ones they’re protecting are Templars, Nazis, racists, and hooligans. Full of Nazi fanatics and Templar strongmen.

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“Not really. I’d say it was rather brilliant. There’s just one problem: we’re the German Brotherhood, not them. The Council wasn’t pleased when they found out about Pash’s little operation.”

“Do you agree?” Jan paid attention to the look on Lutz’s face. From his tone, he sounded neutral. He didn’t disagree nor agree with the Council. His eyes reflected the fire burning on the coals, but there was nothing to see. Only the flame, and the black emptiness.

“It’s the Council’s own fault.” He chuckled. “How did the Americans manage to insert somebody into the SS, a German paramilitary force, while we, the German Brotherhood, didn’t? In fact, that is precisely why we are here.”

Lutz looked the three of them straight in their eyes. His expression changed in the blink of an eye, from his usual cheerful, mischievous smile into a wholly unknown expression. Dark, burning, sharp, dead serious. His shoulders seemed broader, his gaze sharper, his presence darker and larger.

“The time for ‘caution’ is enough. Precisely because we are outnumbered, outgunned, and outpowered, we must bring the fight to them. Otherwise, we’ll keep dwindling. A small flame dies easily. Just a gust of wind, and it’ll go out.” He went to the fire and stoked it. “But a large fire… once it burns, you’ll be hard-pressed to keep it back.

“It is time our offensive began. Most of the Brotherhood is not aligned with us. Let them lie with their caution and cowardice. We will fight hard enough to cover the rest of them.”

“What are you saying, Lutz?” asked Elisabeth, but all of them already had an inkling where this is going.

“You three. A team, under my direction. We’ll take the fight to the Templars ourselves. The way our predecessors did. Sabotage. Subterfuge. Assassination. All according to how we have always done it: in the shadows.”

“The shadows of our enemies,” Elisabeth said. But it’s incomplete.

“And our friends,” Jan added.

“Exactly.”

Lutz walked out from behind his desk and approached us so that we’re all standing together in a circle.

“What do you say, my friends? Will you obey the Council and follow in their footsteps, hiding and cowering in our catacombs while the world falls into the hands of the Templars? Or will you join me, and together we can bring back the honour of our Creed?”

He held out his hand, waiting for us to extend ours. Elisabeth was the first one. She held her hand out and placed it on Lutz’s open palm. Kevin and I look at each other, then without so much as a word we come to agreement. We both extend our hands and put it on top of Elisabeth’s.

“Thank you, brothers, sister. To be honest, I didn’t know what I would do if you’d declined after that little speech.” He smiled mischievously

“Now, let us begin our crusade against the Templars in Germany. We will rid this land, and the world, of their corrupting influence. We will restore freedom, peace, and prosperity. And we will do so in defence of our Brotherhood and our Creed.”

Then, together as one we let out our voices.

“Nichts ist wahr, alles ist erlaubt.” Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

“Today, we begin our struggle.”

On that cool September day in 1941, in that dark warm room, I made a decision that would change the course of my life forever. And to this day, I don’t know if it was the right choice.

Chapter Text

Berlin, Germany – October 1941

Jan and Kevin lay flat on the roof overlooking the Education Ministry building. In their dark coats and enveloped by the darkness of the night, they were almost invisible to the eye. They had no binoculars, but as Assassins their eyes adjusted well to the dark. They kept their eyes glued to the neoclassical façade with its rows of unlit windows, waiting for their opportunity to strike.

“Go to the Education Ministry and find out more about Projekt Wodan,” Lutz said. It was their first mission since Lutz made his declaration. He felt anxious, but at the same time thrilled. But most of all, he felt cold. They were in the middle of autumn now, and the wind did not pull its punches this high up. He closed his fists in an attempt to keep some warmth on his palms, but it did little.

Kevin shook his shoulder. There he was, the lone guard patrolling the perimeter. Normally, you’d have regular guards or police guard buildings like this. But the Education Ministry had SS soldiers guarding it. One might think that education was of vital importance to the Nazis. But he knew there was another, more serious reason for the SS’ deployment.

Jan brought himself up to his knees, tapped Kevin’s shoulder, and started the climb down. Like a black cat, he moved swiftly and silently down using the windowsills and pipes until he landed right on the unilluminated pavement. He waited until the guard across the street passed in front of him before rushing across. His footfalls made no sound. They felt lighter than air, and Jan was one with the shadows.

He followed the soldier closely, crouching only several paces behind him. If things went south, Kevin was still on the roof with his rifle. He had two options: sneak up and swipe the keys off his belt or slit his throat and do the same. He’d like to kill as many of them as possible but doing so would force him to hide the body. And eventually, they’d get suspicious over their missing comrade. Resigning himself to playing the thief, at the darkest point between two lampposts he snuck up and swiped the keys before the guard could even say was.

He walked in the opposite direction and reached the side door that was their target. Unlocking it, he went in and made sure to close it behind him before proceeding into the building. That was the simple part. Now, he had to find the documents. The Assassins, battered as they were, did not have the full intel on the building. There were no maps or blueprints. All they had was the vague knowledge that the documents were stored in an office on the third floor. Seeing how big the building is from the inside, there must be at least two dozen rooms on each floor. This might take a while.

The corridors were mostly empty and dark. But as Jan made his way through them, he came to the lobby. The lights were still on here, and there were several guards still loitering. Jan hid behind a vase as two sets of footsteps walked down the stairs.

“How is this damned project of yours more important than our work on education and science, Major Hessel?”

Hessel. The name felt familiar. Jan dug through his memory, trying to connect the name to a place or an event. Hessel, Hessel, Hessel. Then it came to him. Poland. The major in command of the Death’s Head unit that massacred the village, all for the sake of the artefact Jan and the others then stole from them. Could it really be the same person? But when his voice came, all his doubts were cleared.

“This is science, Herr Rust. The recovery and decipherment of these artefacts could be the key to winning this war.” It was the same proud, gruff, cruel voice, but with a hint of deference. The other man must be Bernhard Rust, the minister himself. Stern face, aquiline nose, close-cropped moustache, and his hair combed with a split right in the middle. To Jan, he looked like a more comedic version of Hitler.

“So you say, but have you ever considered the possibility that they are nothing but fantasies? You lot and all your fantasies.”

“Mein Herr, with all due respect the Führer himself gave his blessing to these projects. We are well aware that your other work is just as important, all we are asking is that you divert some resources to–”

“I’m well aware of the Führer’s wishes, Herr Hessel. Rest assured, I am not going against his orders. I may have my own reservations, but surely the Führer knows better than I. I’ve already made arrangements for a few offices of the ministry to focus on your project. You may see them yourself on the third floor if you do not believe me.”

“May I personally oversee it, Mein Herr?”

“Do whatever you wish as long as you stop your yapping and let me go home in peace. Rooms 305 through 308.”

“Danke, Mein Herr. Heil Hitler!” replied Major Hessel, raising his arm in salute. Rust replied in kind and left the building.

Without waiting any further, Jan turned back and went up the nearest stairs. He kept repeating the numbers in his head. 305 through 308. Parts of the corridors were still lit, while others had had their lights turned off. Luckily, there were few patrols, and the ones he did pass were people finishing their work and not soldiers.

He reached the rows of rooms starting with 301. Making his way quickly, he found Room 305 and pushed the door. But it wouldn’t budge. Of course. It was locked. As he looked left and right for any other potential point of entry and even considered breaking down the door, footsteps came from around the corner. Two. No, three. Frantically, he ran for the other end of the corridor and turned the corner just as the new arrivals came.

“Room 305, Mein Herr.”

“A few small offices? For all that talk, I expected Rust to at least give a quarter of the floor. That damned idiot. This will have to do. Open it at once. I wish to inspect it for myself,” barked Major Hessel.

A stroke of luck, he thought to himself. He could just sneak in, wait until they leave, grab what he could, and leave himself. There was only Hessel and two guards.

But wait. Hessel, guarded by only two soldiers. An opportunity like this doesn’t come often. He could assassinate Hessel here and now and rid the world of his terror. Maybe he knew something about the ambush that killed father. Could he take the two soldiers first? But that’s not his objective here. He’s supposed to just get documents. He clenched his fist and extended his blade, its cold and sharp metal giving him his courage. Before he even made his decision, his feet had started moving.

One guard stood in the doorway, his back facing out. He jammed his blade as deep as he could into the guard’s neck until its tip came out of the front. The guard was desperately trying to scream, but there was no sound he could make. Each time he tried, only a groan and blood came out. Jan pulled out his blade and kicked the guard, sending him crashing into desks. This caught the attention of the other two.

“Assassin,” hissed Hessel.

They took out their guns, but they weren’t nearly fast enough. The other guard fell back as the bullet embedded itself in his forehead. Jan shot the next one at Hessel, but he was already hiding behind cover. While shooting, Jan did the same.

Verdammt, he thought. He didn’t want to shoot. Somebody’s bound to hear them, and then he won’t be facing just Hessel but rather a squad or two of SS soldiers. He needed to end this quick.

“Come to kill me, Assassin?” Hessel spat. “Typical of you vermin, always lurking in the shadows and trying to steal and kill like rats in a sewer. How about we just make this easy? In a few minutes, squads of soldiers will come bearing down on this room. If you surrender now, I promise I’ll go easy on your torture as long as you cooperate. That sounds good, ja?”

Jan picked up a nearby stationery box and threw it into the air. Reflexively, Hessel shot at it while Jan bounded around the side of the desks and reached him. He kicked Hessel’s legs, sending him to the ground with a loud thud. Not giving him any chance to recover, he jumped up and stepped as hard as he could on Hessel’s wrist, forcing him to let go of the gun. And then, he put his blade on Hessel’s neck.

“Not bad for a sewer rat, ja?” Jan couldn’t help but smirk. Hessel’s own smirking face had faded and in its place was one of disgust and fury. “Now, answer my questions and I’ll let you live.”

Hessel laughed. “Am I supposed to believe that you, an Assassin, will let me live if I answer your questions?”

“You’re not really in a position to believe me or not.”

“What makes you think I fear death?”

“Maybe you don’t, but pain is a different matter.” He pressed the edge of the blade into Hessel’s neck, drawing blood.

Hessel chuckled but winced with the pain of the blade. “Very well, Assassin.”

What should he ask first? Projekt Wodan? Kristallnacht? Chances like this didn’t come often. He needed to make a decision and quick.

“Mein Herr?” came a voice from the hallway as Jan was occupied with his own thoughts. Not five seconds later, two soldiers brandishing rifles appeared in the doorway. “Who are you?!”

Jan jumped up and leapt behind a desk as the soldiers began shooting. They made their way inside and took cover behind desks. His eyes darted to where Hessel was, but there was only the floor.

“Kill him. Kill him now!” Hessel barked at them as he ran from the office, clutching his bloodied neck.

Jan cursed himself. He shouted curses again and again as the bullets rained around him, hitting windows, desks, and walls. He just let that chance go because he couldn’t make up his mind. What a pathetic excuse for an Assassin. Heaving, not from moving but from rage, he took out his gun and prepared to shoot back. But first, he needed to calm himself. He closed his eyes and let the bullets fade into the background.

And then he leapt out, gun blazing. The guards were taken by surprise, and before long one was sprawling on the ground nursing a bullet wound on his shoulder. The other one hid behind cover, but with no supporting fire there was nothing keeping Jan from moving forward and plunging his blade in the man’s neck. The other guard could only look in horror as the life seeped out of his comrade. Jan turned his attention to him next.

“W-w-wait!” Jan had no time to listen to his pleas. It was their fault that Hessel escaped before he could ask any questions. Standing above him, Jan shot him in the forehead.

He couldn’t waste any more time. Hessel was a lost cause. More guards were going to come from the hallway. He looked around the room, trying to sort out what from the thousands of documents scattered on the desks, floors, and cabinets could be useful. He needed more time. Closing the door, he pulled several of the nearest desks in front of it to block their entry. That should give him time to search.

He shifted through papers at random, not starting from any particular place. He didn’t have time to examine the contents of each, so he just skimmed. One report caught his eye: “Artefact Translation Progress – Bohemia”. As he began reading, at least a dozen boots started stomping in the hallway followed by shouts. Then, the door and desks began shaking as the soldiers tried to open it.

Jan gathered all the documents he could into a neat pile and then folded it into a roll, placing it in one of the pockets on the inside of his coat. The trembling was worse now, and some of the desks and chairs had fallen. Jan opened the nearest window and went on the windowsill. He jumped right as the door broke down, the shouts of the soldiers fading behind him.

He fell onto the pavement below and rolled down the street. Not the best of his landings. His neck, arms, and back all hurt, but nothing seemed to be broken. When he looked back up, a soldier was aiming at him, but his shot went wide as he himself fell down screaming. Blood was seeping through his shirt. Jan’s eyes went to the roof and found Kevin reloading, beckoning him to come.

Jan bounded across the street as quickly as he could. Soldiers started to pour out of the side door. The first one to come out didn’t make it ten metres out before Kevin’s bullet entered his chest. Jan entered an alleyway and started climbing up the wall. There were no soldiers behind him, and the gunshots were still coming. Pulling himself up onto the roof, he shouted at Kevin who was reloading.

“Let’s go!”

They leapt across the roofs, like two spirits running across the moonlit sky. There was shouting behind them as the soldiers scrambled to go after them. But within a minute, the shouting had disappeared. They had gone too far for the soldiers, who couldn’t track them on the roofs.

They jumped inside Jan’s room through the open window and shut it tight behind them, keeping the cold autumn wind out. Both of them were heaving, their coats drenched in sweat. They practically ran the whole way back for fear of getting caught. Kevin rested against the wall, beads of sweat falling down his face and the rifle at his feet. Without changing his clothes, Jan slid down onto the floor and fell into an exhausted sleep.

It was the knocking on his door that woke him up. Light shone through his windows, while Kevin was still fast asleep. At some point during the night, he had fallen and was now sleeping on the floor. The voice coming from behind the door was his mother’s.

“Jan? Jan?”

He brought himself up and opened the door. “Morning, Mama.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh my, you haven’t changed? What were you doing?” She looked at him from his head to his toes.

“Just had some things to do.”

“Oh, and you smell. Make sure you get cleaned up, take a bath before you do anything else. I’ve prepared some breakfast for you boys. Don’t get yourself into trouble, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” He smiled as warmly as he could, but even his face muscles ached. Afterwards, he did as he was told. Bathed, ate a simple breakfast of bread and cheese, and went straight to work. Kevin woke up several hours later, and Jan told him to do the same as he started first. Getting the documents was the first part. Some might even call it the easier part. Now, they had to sift through them and find useful information. If only he’d had more time, he could’ve grabbed less but more important documents.

The two Assassins spent the entire day going through the documents, barely doing anything outside reading long passages of text filled with translation and transcription attempts, guesses and conjectures, and descriptions of artefacts. It took a while, but slowly a pattern started to form. Various seemingly unrelated artefacts all led to a single place illustrated on a piece of paper in one of the codices. The map was out of proportion like most old manuscripts before the golden age of cartography, but the general shape and the natural features painted onto it were clear: Bohemia.

“It all leads there,” he said aloud.

Kevin nodded and signed. We need to focus more on that point.

And so, they did, rechecking some of the documents they had already read to make sure they didn’t miss anything. After going through that, they both agreed that whatever it was, it was in Bohemia. All the documents point there, but to his dismay Jan did not grab the documents that talked about what it was. It was already dark outside. Jan checked the time. A few minutes past midnight.

“I’m calling in,” he told Kevin as he walked out of his room as silently as possible. Mother must’ve already come home. He’d rather not wake her.

Making his way into father’s study, he closed the door behind him and went for the telephone hidden inside a cabinet. A special landline connected directly to the headquarters in Essen. He dialed in the code that activated the phone and then the code for Lutz. Before one beep even finished, he had picked up the phone. But there was silence as Lutz waited for the code.

“Schuppen.”

“Good job,” came Lutz’s voice over the phone. “Got something?”

“There was a bit of a problem. I got caught inside, but I managed to get some intel. Not everything, but some.”

“So, what’ve you got?”

“The Templars or the Nazis are digging up something in Bohemia.” At this point, he couldn’t really tell who was a Nazi and who was also a Templar. “Something important that could be the key to unlocking these artefacts. The dig site is near Prague, and they’ve sent someone important to handle it.”

“Someone important, huh. Might that have something to do with a recently appointed deputy governor?”

Exactly, Jan told him.

“Reinhard Heydrich. The man with the iron heart.”

“Yes.”

“Then, you know what to do, Jan. I’m sending Elisabeth with you.”

“Understood.” With that, he ended the call and made his way to the bedroom. They both went to sleep. It was going to be their last night in Berlin. His mother was so happy that he was home, but now he had to leave again. He looked forward to the day when the war would end, and he could just stay home.

But for now, he had a duty. And that duty was in Prague.

Chapter Text

Pilsen, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – November 1941

The three of them sat in the coffeehouse opposite the Gestapo headquarters. Jan and Elisabeth sat together, acting like a young married couple as Kevin sat across. To the world, they looked like any other Germans in occupied Czechoslovakia. Especially since they were so near to the Sudetenland.

“So, what are we doing here?” Elisabeth asked. She flashed a convincing smile as the waitress came to refill her cup of coffee.

“Our target is information on the artefacts they’re digging up here, and to try and keep them out of Templar hands, right?”

They nodded.

“Well, we don’t know anything about this place. No contacts.” Not since the Czech Brotherhood were completely wiped out early in the war. “So, we need some help.”

“I hope you’re not saying we ask for help from the Gestapo.”

“No, no.” He took a bite out of his toast before continuing. The jam was sweet, but the bread itself was a little too burnt. “We’ll have them help us without knowing.” He smirked. “Heydrich’s been rounding up the local resistance. They’re the only ones we can trust as being against the Nazis. They know the land. We could use their help. I read in the papers that there’s been a lot of raids in Pilsen lately. The Gestapo rounding up, capturing, and killing resistance members. And that’s why we’re here.

“So, here’s the plan.” He wiped his mouth with his handkerchief. He had to look presentable before presenting the plan he had thought out so well. “The Gestapo isn’t done yet. I bet there’s going to be another raid soon. And if there’s any information about that, it’s got to be in their headquarters.”

The building loomed across the street, white and featureless with rows of identical windows. The front door was guarded by a pair of armed guards with their rifles slung on their backs. It was unfriendly, cold, but intimidating. Just like the Nazis intended.

“We go in, get the information, get out. Then, we warn the resistance. That’ll gain their trust.” Triumphant, Jan laid back and took a sip of his tea. “So, what do you think?”

“How do you know the information’s in there?” Elisabeth’s voice was so pointed it went right through his heart. She’s saying you don’t know, do you?

“It’s got to be. This is their headquarters. The raids haven’t stopped. The papers haven’t declared total victory, only victories. I’m sure if we go in, we’ll find what we need.”

Elisabeth was still unconvinced. She looked at the façade of the Gestapo headquarters. Jan could almost see the gears turning in her head, the weights balancing in her head. Risk versus reward. They couldn’t be as brave and daring as Arno Dorian during the French Revolution. After all, his Brotherhood was alive. Theirs was teetering on the edge.

“Alright, how do we wanna do this?” she finally said.

An hour later, Kevin was standing in front of the building. The guards eyed him but did not do anything. He took out a pebble from his pocket and threw it in the face of one. Before they could react, Kevin had started bounding down the road, shoving people left and right. The guards ran after him, shouting in German and heavily accented Czech.

With the coast clear, Jan and Elisabeth came out of a side alley and onto the main street. Collars pulled up, hat pulled down, they walked on the pavement and entered the building through the unguarded doors.

It was unnervingly quiet inside, and when they came in there was nobody. On the wall to the side was a small information board with the floor numbers and the offices on them. The fourth floor held what they need: operations and communications room.

“Remember, it’s hard to talk our way out of this. Killing anybody will just result in even worse reprisals against the resistance. So, we should avoid them.”

Elisabeth nodded and they were on their way. They crouched their way through the corridors, making as little noise as possible. At an intersection, two men were headed their way from the left. They entered an empty office and let them pass before continuing. They made their way up the stairs onto to the fourth floor. At the top of the stairs, there were three corridors: front, left, and right.

“Which way do we go?” A map would really have been useful. Without it, they’d be forced to check the corridors and their sub-corridors one by one. Possible, but time-consuming…

“Left,” Elisabeth said, pointing down the hall.

“How do you know?”

“I just do,” she said without further explanation. “Just trust me.”

There was no proof or evidence, but the confidence in her voice swayed him. After all, when had she ever let him down? They went down the left hallway like she said. Like the others, the offices were mostly empty. Only a few had people working in them as they could hear the chattering voices and typewriters.

“So, my wife sent me this letter…”

“Quick, hide!” he whispered. The two soldiers were a few metres around the corner from them. They went to the nearest door, but it was locked. The next ones were the same. Finally, they found an unlocked door. But before he could turn the knob, Elisabeth pulled his arm.

“No, don’t,” she said. “There’s somebody in there.”

Jan looked through the window and focused his ears, but he couldn’t hear anything. “I can’t hear anything.”

“There’s someone in there. I know it.”

Fortunately, the next office was open. With no urgent warnings from Elisabeth, they went inside and closed the door behind them, hiding under the main desk. They waited in silence until the two men passed and the sound of their boots receded.

“They’re gone?” she asked. Jan nodded, and the two of them stood up. But Jan pulled her back.

“Wait,” he told her, looking her straight in the eye. “How did you know?”

“I just do,” she says, pulling her hand from him and walking out. “Come on, we need to move.”

That wasn’t an answer, but Jan knew they had to move quickly. Elisabeth led them through the corridor, confidently passing offices she knew were useless to them. She looked left and right, slowly moving up the corridor as if the walls didn’t exist. Then suddenly she stopped. She looked to her left and went for the door. She pushed it open, leading them into an unlit, empty room.

Jan could barely see, but to turn on the lights would be to attract attention, so they contented themselves with the darkness. At the centre of the office was a large wooden desk covered in organised sheafs of papers and a map in the middle. It was a map of Pilsen and the surrounding area. Several points were circled with a red marker. All of them except for one had a red cross in them.

“Looks important,” Elisabeth commented. “What do you think it means? Dig sites?”

“No.” Jan stared at the points on the map. This was the Gestapo, the feared secret police of Germany. Hitler’s hounds. Heydrich would probably use another unit to dig archaeological sites, not waste these men shoveling dirt. “There’s only one answer.” He explained his thoughts to her before giving her the answer. “These are hideouts or meeting places of the resistance.”

He pointed to the single empty circle on the map. It was a short distance outside of the city proper, at what seemed to be a factory right next to a train station.

“There’s only one left. We have to warn them.” He started for the door without waiting for her response.

“Wait,” she called out. “It may be too late. They already crossed out all the others. This must be their next target. For all we know, they might be under arrest by now.”

“We don’t know that. They might still be safe. Or maybe they’re being arrested. That’s something we can help with, isn’t it?” he smirked.

They went out the same way they came in as fast as they could. Once outside, they rushed towards the car they’d left in front of the café. Kevin was already at the wheel when they came in.

“Go, go!” Jan shouted as he closed the door. “They’re coming for them. Just drive, I’ll tell you directions we go.”

Kevin stepped on the gas, and they zoomed through the city, the buildings moving past them at lightning speed. Slowly, three-storey buildings made way for suburban houses, which made way to trees and the occasional wooden hut. They were outside of the city proper and the road became bumpier.

After a few more minutes of driving with tall, old trees lining the road, the abandoned factory came into view. Its chimneys jutted into the sky, but nothing was coming out of it. The dilapidated brick buildings were interspersed with rusting metallic parts. As they slowly came closer, the factory seemed to grow in size. It was like a gigantic, otherworldly machine, long forgotten and abandoned, left to sleep eternally.

“Don’t stop too close to the factory.” It’d be dangerous if the Gestapo saw them. “Find a place nearby, in the forest if you can. I’ll head there on foot.”

“I’ll go with you,” Elisabeth said, grabbing the rifle at her foot.

As Kevin turned the car into the forest, Jan and Elisabeth made their way through the trees. They kept as close to the road as they could without being seen. Jan took out his own handgun just in case, but he hoped against hope that the Gestapo hadn’t arrived. When they reached the outskirts of the factory just outside of the rusted fence full of holes, it was eerily silent.

“I don’t think they’re here yet,” Elisabeth said, scanning the buildings.

“Let’s go.” Jan moved forward first as Elisabeth covered the rear. There was a hole in the fence, just enough for one person to crawl through. Jan went first, then Elisabeth. Inside the factory yard, they took cover in the shade of the nearest small building. Not even five seconds had passed before they heard them. Jan didn’t understand what they were saying. It was Czech, and he could count the words he knew in that language on one hand.

“There they are,” Elisabeth said, uncomfortably close to Jan’s ear. The hairs on his neck went stiff. “How are we going to tell them?”

“At least one of them might speak German.” That’s the only way they could get intel on the Gestapo after all. “If not, we’ll think of something. We have to warn them anyway.”

Not wanting to let doubt and overthinking come over him, without a word Jan stepped out of the shade and raised his arms in the air. He walked straight towards the four men standing next to one of the abandoned buildings. He called out to them.

“Hello there!” In German, of course. “You have to get out of here. The Nazis are coming.”

In response, four guns were aimed at Jan’s head. He stopped in his tracks and looked them in the eye. Three of them were young men, dressed in simple clothes. A cap, a plaid shirt, and trousers held up by suspenders. In the middle stood an older man, with a more pronounced stomach and a grey moustache. It was him who spoke.

“Who are you?” He spoke in heavily accented German, but clear enough for Jan to understand.

“My name is Jan. I’m a friend. I’ll drop my gun.” He took it out of his holster which caused them to tense up before dropping it onto the ground and kicking it away. “See?”

“What do you want?”

“We need your help.”

“We?”

At that, Elisabeth came out of the shadows a few paces behind Jan. Two of them aimed their guns at her. Though she didn’t drop it, she kept her rifle aimed towards the ground.

“Help with what?” the old man demanded.

“We need something that the Nazis have. As a token of good faith, we have information.” Jan let his words sink in before he continued. “The Gestapo is coming. Here. They know you’re here, and they’re going to arrest you.”

They shot glances at each other. The old man was unperturbed, keeping his gaze on Jan’s eyes, searching through his soul.

“And how do you know that?”

Jan smirked. “We broke into their office in the city.”

“Impossible. You two?”

“Yes.”

They started conversing amongst themselves in Czech. They were whispering, but one was speaking much more aggressively than the rest. Jan shot a glance at Elisabeth, who didn’t respond. Jan was about to say something, but the sound of approaching cars meant he didn’t need to.

“They’re coming.”

The resistance fighters all looked towards the street, their eyes full of worry and beads of sweat starting to form on their foreheads. One of them cursed.

“You need to go. Now.”

The old man barked orders, and the four of them started retreating into the forest. As the cars came to a halt, the three men burst into a run. But before he followed, the old man looked back to Jan.

“If you really want to help, meet us at the old trainyard down the rail track. On the other side.” Without waiting for a response, he turned back.

As soon as they disappeared, Jan ran to his gun, picked it up, and turned around.

“Let’s get out of here!”

They went back the way they came from and disappeared into the trees before the Gestapo agents even reached the main yard.

Chapter Text

Pilsen, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – November 1941

“This is the place.” Jan and Elisabeth walked into an abandoned trainyard. Rust was the prominent theme: rusted tracks, rusted pipes, rusted trains. All manner of large and loud machinery, now forever silent. Seeing no sign of the resistance members on the yard, they stepped into one of the buildings. The doors were locked, although if they were to kick it down it would collapse easily. But two tracks ran through it, and their gates were open.

“Hold it right there.” The voice came from the left, but they were looking into the barrel of a rifle aimed straight at their heads from an overhanging walkway. The man behind it looked down the sight, ready to shoot at any moment. Jan raised his arms to show that he meant no harm. Two more men appeared on their flanks with their guns pointed at the two Assassins. Then, the heavy, gruff voice himself came out.

A flat cap on his head, a blue plaid shirt, and dark brown trousers held up by black suspenders against his portruding stomach. He wasn’t carrying a gun, but he kept one hand on his suspender belt, close to the holster on his hip. The wrinkles on his face contrasted with his hard look, his thick grey moustache reinforcing the image.

“What a warm welcome.” Jan’s eyes alternated between the three guns pointed at him.

“Can’t be too careful at times like these,” the older man said. He stopped a few paces in front of them. “Dangerous times.”

“Dangerous times,” Jan repeated. “So, what happens now? You’ll take us prisoner?”

“You did save us from the Gestapo. For that, we thank you. But for all we know, you could be their spy.”

“We saved your lives.”

“Isn’t that how it goes? Leak a bit of information, just enough for them to trust you. And then once you have enough information extracted, deal the killing blow. With what’s been going on with our people, you’d understand our caution.”

“So?”

“So, I’d like to know who I’m dealing with. Who are you? Why did you help us? What are your objectives? You can start from there. Oh, and drop your weapons.”

Jan sighed and looked over to Elisabeth. Her rifle was on her back, but her hands were itching to grab it. Keeping one hand held up, Jan took out his gun and dropped it on the ground. He kicked it towards the nearest resistance member.

“You too, miss.”

Elisabeth didn’t respond. Jan nudged her with his elbow. “It’s fine. Come on.’

Begrudglingly, she unslung her rifle and threw it on the ground. The old man smiled. “Go on. Tell us what you’re here for. We have all the time in the world, and the place to ourselves.”

“We’re looking for something. Something that the Nazis are also looking for. But we need the Resistance’s help to find it.” Jan looked at their eyes each in turn to show his determination. “One thing you can be sure of: the Nazis are our enemies. We want what you want.”

“And what might that be?” the old man asked.

“Their defeat.”

“You can say so, but those are just words. Like I said, you helped us and all. But it could’ve just been a trick.”

“So, how can we prove ourselves?”

“How will you be helping us in our fight?”

“My partners and I possess a specific set of skills.” Jan flexed the muscles in his finger, feeling the hidden blade under his wrist. “We’re experts in not being seen.”

“Spies? Assassins?”

Jan smirked. “Something like that, yes.”

“Best way to flush the rats is see if they’ll kill other rats.” He paused before continuing. “Lukas Miete. Know him?”

Jan shook his head. Neither he nor Elisabeth had ever heard of that name.

“He’s an officer with the SS. Cold bastard. Cruel. He’s the brains of the local Gestapo operations. We know he’s the source of most of the information that’s taking out the other cells. End him, and then we’ll talk.”

“Sounds simple enough.”

“Confident, are we? To make sure there’s no trickery involved, I’m sending one of my guys with you. Kristián.”

The man on his left lowered his gun and stepped forward.

“This is Kristián. He’ll tag along with you.”

“With all due respect, we have very specific training. Having him will just slow us down.”

“If you want our help, he goes. If not, this’ll be the end.”

Jan sighed. Kristián looked young, maybe as young as him. Well-kempt hair, brown jacket, grey trousers, and a blue shirt. His face was clean-shaven, and he had a look of determination and seriousness. Zeal, even.

“Alright, we’ll take him along.”

“Good.” The old man turned his attention to Kristián and began speaking Czech with him. He replied, nodded, and the conversation ended. “See you when you’re done.”

The three of them walked out of the building and headed towards the car where Kevin was waiting. Jan walked next to Elisabeth, while Kristián walked slightly farther.

“How do you suppose we’ll communicate with him if he doesn’t even understand us?” Jan said in German, not bothering to whisper.

“I understand you,” he answered.

Jan and Elisabeth stopped in their tracks and stared at him. Well, at least the communication problem’s done, he thought to himself. “Good then, we can communicate easily.”

“Afraid I’ll ‘slow you down’?” he said mockingly. “Don’t underestimate me just because I’m Czech.”

“What? I never said anything like that. It’s not because you’re Czech.”

Kristián scoffed. “Sure. It’s because of your ‘special training.’ Gestapo training, huh?”

“Why, you little–”. Jan raised his fist, but Elisabeth held it down.

“Believe what you want,” she said, not even turning to look at him. “Just do your job.”

When they came to the car, Kristián put his hand on his gun as Kevin came into view. Jan told him to relax, but he kept his hand where it was. Jan took the front seat, telling Kevin what had happened and then drove off.

“Where are we going?” Jan asked.

“The Gestapo headquarters.” His eyes were going from one point to another in the car, as if looking for a bomb or a secret weapon. “That’s where Miete works. We wait until he comes out, then follow him.”

“Oh, back again. How lovely.”

They went on driving back into the city silently. Elisabeth gazed out the window, Kevin kept his eyes on the road, Jan was a little sleepy. But Kristián was tense throughout, and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. He kept his hand on his gun, and his eyes flitted from the window, to Elisabeth, to Jan, and then to Kevin. But most of all, he kept his eyes on Kevin who sat right in front of him.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?”

“Because he can’t,” Jan said. “That’s a little insensitive of you.”

“What do you mean he can’t?”

“He can’t. Was born that way. He can understand you, though. He’s not deaf.”

Kevin looked at the rearview mirror and gave a nod. Kristián didn’t ask anymore questions, but he didn’t stop anything else. They stopped across the Gestapo headquarters, a few metres before the café they were waiting in the day before.

They waited silently for some time, until finally a humble-looking bespectacled man with finely combed hair came out of the building and into a waiting car. He wore the uniform of an SS officer with a patch on his arm denoting his rank: Obersturmführer. He looked ill-fitted to it, with his awkward and timid natural appearance.

“That’s him,” Kristián said. “That’s Miete.”

“Let’s follow them. Keep some distance.” At Jan’s words, Kevin shifted the gears and they started moving. They followed them through the city, keeping at a safe distance. They zigzagged across the streets, each one more unknown than the last.

“Where are you going…?”

After what seemed like more than an hour’s drive, Miete’s car turned right into a cemetery. Kevin stopped the car outside.

“A cemetery,” commented Elisabeth.

“A fitting place for Nazis.” Jan chuckled, but no one else was in the mood for humour apparently.

“Let’s get in there and kill him.”

“Alright. Elisabeth, Kristián, and I will go. Kevin, can you cover our exit?”

He nodded, turned off the engine, took his rifle, and took a hidden position outside. Jan and the rest of the strike team made their way to a building at the edge of the cemetery. The cemetery was guarded by a wall around it, the top covered in sharp spikes. At the corners, the perimeter wall joined the building wall. That’s where Jan and the others headed.

Without a word, the two Assassins started climbing. Kristián stood still, wondering at their speed and agility. Before Kristián had even climbed half the wall, the two Assassins were on the roof. Elisabeth scouted the cemetery while Jan helped Kristián up.

“Looks like Miete’s at the the building at the far end of the cemetery. The one with the stairs going down.”

“Probably the basement or catacombs,” commented Kristián.

As they were making note of how many guards were posted and where, an armoured car drove past the building and into the cemetery. Jan and the others jumped for cover on the rooftop and observed the car as it made its way to the building Miete was in. When it stopped, the back doors opened and the Nazis dragged out two men, one bloodied and beaten.

“Shit,” muttered Kristián. “That’s Marek and Zikmund.”

“Friends of yours?”

“They’re with the resistance too. We gotta help them.”

“Hold your horses,” Jan told him. “If we rush it, they won’t be the only ones in the hands of the Nazis.”

Crouching on the far side of the roof, they made their way closer to where Miete was. They lay flat on the tiles, not even daring to peek at where Miete and the two Czech fighters were. They could just barely make out what was being said. One of the soldiers was reporting to Miete.

“Obersturmführer! We caught these two on their way. Fell right into our trap.”

“Very good. What are your names?”

“Jdi do hajzlu!” shouted one of them, followed by a spit. Then, a loud thud and crack as a soldier punched him to the ground.

Miete sighed. “You people are all without manners. I was just being polite. What did you find?”

“We found this on him. Besides that, only weapons and ammunition.”

“It’s in Czech?”

“Not just Czech, obersturmführer. We believe it’s a code.”

“Marek!”

“Y-yes, sir?”

“Why the hell’s Marek so obedient to this bastard?” muttered Kristián. Elisabeth told him to quiet down.

“Translate.”

“Like we’d ever tell you! Better kill us now,” shouted the other one, who must be Zikmund.

Just then, Mieke chuckled. “If only that were the case. Marek, go ahead.”

“Y-yes, sir.” Marek then proceeded to narrate the contents of whatever they had been carrying. Instructions and orders for resistance cells to lay low. A guide to operations while the Gestapo are hunting them. A partial chain of command.

“What the hell are you doing, Marek?”

“You’re not so stupid as to not know what he’s doing?” Miete’s tone was not one of satisfaction or gloating, but cold and contemptuous. “What did my man say? You ‘fell right into our trap’? My dear rebel, you were trapped from the beginning.”

Silence, as his words dawned on Zikmund. “No, that can’t be true! Marek- Marek, tell me this isn’t true. He’s lying, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry,” said Marek silently. “I’m sorry.”

“Zrádce!”

“We have what we need,” Miete continued. “Kill him.”

“Wait!” Marek shouted. “He’s of no danger to us. Just take him prisoner. You can get more information out of him that way. You don’t have to kill him.”

“You don’t get to tell us what to do, Marek. Remember your place.”

Shuffling boots. A rifle being cocked.

“Jdi do–”

A gunshot split the air.

“Zmrdi! Zrádce!”

Before the trio could do anything, Kristián was standing on the roof. He started shooting at the group in the cemetery and hit one of the guards in the shoulder. He fell down bleeding, clutching at the wound.

Jan and Elisabeth exchanged glances. Damn it, they said through their eyes. “The car!” Elisabeth shouted. Miete and his bodyguards were headed straight for the cars. Jan nodded and bounded over the roof and dropped into the cemetery.

He made his way through the tombstones, dodging gunfire and taking down soldiers with his blades and pistol. Elisabeth started shooting from the roof too, covering him as much as she could. She pulled Kristián down, so both of them were now in cover.

Jan kept his attention forward. He had cut down three soldiers. Four more stood around Miete, shielding and protecting him. They shot at him, but he dodged them and hid behind the tombstones. They were almost at the armoured car, its open doors waiting to take Miete in and drive away forever. Jan had to act fast.

He took out his knife and steadied himself. Taking a deep breath and clearing his mind, letting the gunshots fall into the background, he closed his eyes. Then he stood up and threw his knife. It flew through the air, spinning as it did before it hit the mark: the closest soldier’s forehead. He fell to the ground, his lifeless eyes still stuck looking at the knife between them.

Jan crouched back into cover and unslung his rifle. Miete wasn’t even ten paces away from the armoured car. After another barrage of shots before they had to reload, Jan came out of cover and started shooting. But not at the guards. Out of three shots, one hit Miete right in the back of his leg. Miete shouted in pain and fell headfirst to the ground. His soldiers were trying to get him back up.

Jan shot another one in the heart as he was looking at his fallen commander. The next shot went wide, but the one after that hit another in the shoulder. The final soldier, seeing he was all by himself, abandoned his commander and took cover behind a nearby tombstone. He emptied his magazine trying to hit Jan. He ducked again to reload. Taking the chance, Jan climbed out of his cover, ran as fast as his legs could carry him, and jumped over the tombstone, landing straight on the soldier’s back and burying his blades deep in his neck.

As the life seeped out of him, a car door opened behind him. The driver came out with his gun and started shooting at Jan. He rolled away, taking the dead soldier’s knife. In the blink of an eye, the knife was flying through the air and landed in the driver’s arm. The driver shouted, before Jan shot him dead. Jan went over to Miete, who was lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

“Who the hell are you?” he cursed, his face bulging with rage and fear mixed together. “Do you know who I am?”

Jan hit his face as hard as he could. Miete started coughing blood, and one of his teeth fell out. Jan dragged him by his collar back to the entrance to the stairs, where almost a dozen soldiers were dead or dying. The eerie, silent cemetery was now loud with the moans of coming death. Elisabeth and Kristián were headed the same way.

Marek was cowering in a corner, wailing with his hands in front of his face. Kristián rushed over towards him, holding his gun ahead of him with a face as hard as stone. Jan dragged Miete along as the two Assassins followed Kristián.

“Remember me?” asked Kristián. “Huh?!”

Marek lowered his hands and his eyes widened in recognition. When he spoke, he was stuttering. “Kristián?”

“That’s right,” he answered, chuckling. He picked Marek up by the collar and started shaking him voilently. “What the hell did they offer you, huh? Money? How much? Or girls, was it girls?”

“You’re sorry. You’re sorry, huh?” Kristián threw him down and pointed at Zikmund’s corpse. “You think your damned sorry’s gonna bring him back?!”

Kristián put the barrel of his gun to Marek’s forehead. “What the hell did they offer you? Tell me, or I’ll splatter your brains all over this wall.”

Marek closed his eyes and answered. “50,000 kronen.”

Kristián pushed the barrel deeper into his forehead. “So, it was money. You filthy traitor. Did you get that money? Too bad you won’t be able to spend it. Was it worth it, huh?”

“Please, Kristián! It wasn’t out of greed. I needed the money. You know I do. Please.”

“And for that, you killed Zikmund? How many others have died because of your ‘need’?”

“I’m sorry, please. Please, don’t kill me. Just let me go. I won’t ever come back. I’ll leave the country. I won’t collaborate with the Nazis anymore. Just let met go.” Marek was crying now, sobbing loudly in the otherwise silent graveyard. Jan and Elisabeth only watched as it happened.

“Do you really want to kill another Czech?” he asked in between sobs. “That’s what the Germans want.”

“But… but you deserve to die.” Kristián wavered. The grip on his gun loosened, and he took a few steps back. “It’s the punishment you deserve… but I can’t take the life of a fellow Czech…”

Marek looked up apprehensively. His eyes were still red as he looked straight into Kristián’s eyes. Kristián was torn. He stood there, gun half-raised as he went back and forth between his options.

“I can’t kill you…” he finally said, his eyes full of anguish and hatred. Jan couldn’t help but wonder. Was it hatred at Marek, or at himself?

Elisabeth spoke. “Then I’ll kill him.” Before any of them could react, Elisabeth raised her rifle and shot Marek straight in the face.

“What the hell?!” Kristián shouted, falling back and sliding away from Marek’s corpse. “I said I couldn’t kill him! What did you do that for?”

“You didn’t. I did. I can’t stand traitors.” She turned around and approched the still unconscious Miete. “Come on, we still have him to take care of.”

Kristián brought himself up and approached Miete, holding his gun firmly to try and regain his composure. “Let’s kill him and be done with it.”

Jan stopped him. “Wait a minute. Your friend Marek might not have been the only traitor. I say we bring him back. You can interrogate him for more information.”

Kristián looked wide-eyed at him. “You’re right. Yes, let’s do that. C-come on.” He dragged away Miete towards the car. “Maybe you Germans aren’t all so bad after all.”

Elisabeth followed behind, observing their surroundings and keeping her rifle ready. Jan lingered for a few moments. His gaze went from Elisabeth to Marek’s destroyed face, and back to her. It’s war, he thought. The Templars, the Nazis are even crueler. Repeating that to himself, he followed them back to the car.

Chapter Text

Předmostí u Přerova, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – March 1942

“Must be around a company’s strength in there,” Jan said, squinting his eyes from the top of the pine tree. He was crouching on one of the larger branches. Kevin was not five metres away in a different tree. Together, they looked down into the SS encampment crawling with soldiers, heavy equipment, and forced labourers – a combination of Czechs, Slovaks, and Jews.

There’s the entrance, Kevin signed. He wasn’t referring to the entrance to the camp, but rather the entrance to their real objective: the cave opening on the cliffside at the far edge. The whole camp was in a flurry of activity, but the centre of it all was the cave. Weapons and ammunition were brought in, while bags of dirt and rock were brought out. The resistance was here to free their comrades, but the Assassins’ prize was the information – and hopefully artefacts – in the cave.

A dozen men always guarding it, Kevin continued. Not to mention patrols.

We knew it was going to be heavily guarded, Jan signed back. Let’s go back.

They didn’t slide down. It was still too close to the camp. Instead, they started jumping from branch to branch. It was a relatively terrifying experience. All it’d take was just one branch on the verge of snapping to send him falling down below. So far, he’s been managing. In no small part due to Kevin’s constant help. He’d point to branches he knew were safe if he saw Jan hesitating. Finally, they reached where Elisabeth, the Czechoslovak leader Vit, Kristián, and a bunch of other resistance members were waiting.

“So, how’s it looking?” asked Kristián as they landed on the forest floor. He was smiling but tense, and slightly shaking from a combination of excitement and anxiety. For the last few months, he’d been their main partner in jobs involving the Czechoslovak resistance. It didn’t take too long for him to become their main advocate either.

“I’d say a hundred and fifty men. Around a company’s worth.” Jan brushed off the leaves on his coat.”We can still go with the plan.”

Kristián nodded excitedly. Raising his rifle, he and Vit went to rally their men. Kevin clasped Jan’s shoulder before heading deeper into the forest.

“See you on the walls,” Elisabeth said in goodbye as she went the other direction, unslinging her rifle.

Now all they had to do was wait. They were hopelessly outnumbered. Around a dozen men on each team, and there were only three. But they had two advantages: the element of surprise, and the element of Assassins. As darkness enveloped the forest, Jan began moving through the underbrush. He made his way to the edge of the forest, not ten metres from the walls. It was much louder here. The noises of digging, mining, heavy machinery, and shouting. It must’ve been near midnight, but the Nazis were still working the labourers to the bone. Just as Jan was about to jump out of the bushes, two soldiers walked in front of him.

“Here is good, don’t you think?”

“I suppose. It’s just to bury the dead labourers. We don’t have to be too meticulous about it.”

“Don’t let Lasch hear you say that. He’ll bury you along with them. Wants things neat and tidy, after all.”

They had their backs to him. A perfect opportunity. Jan took in a deepth breath and cleared his mind. When speed was required, he wouldn’t think through the battle. He’d flow through it, and that required him to empty his mind. The noises faded into the background, distinct but distant. He closed his eyes and the world receded from his vision. And then he pounced.

Each of his blades found a neck. The two soldiers could only widen their eyes and gurgle the blood that started to seep through their mouths. Jan pulled out his blood-slick blades and pushed them down onto the ground, dying, wanting to scream, but unable to. Like a spirit in the night, he covered the distance to the walls in the split of a second. Using his speed, he climbed up and over the top of the wall.

He landed next to the sentry on guard. He was just turning his head towards Jan when he planted his blade in his jaw. Jan pulled out his blade and threw him over the wall. He climbed down and felt his way through the darkness to reach the foundations of the wall. Feeling the cold, hard concerete, he crouched and took out the improvised explosives the resistance had made and attached them to the wall.

He went along the wall, attaching more of the explosives and slitting the throats of any soldier who was unfortunate enough to pass him. He could not use his gun, nor could he risk letting them use their guns or their throats. A gunshot or a scream would expose him.

As he placed the final explosive, he looked around. Guards were still crawling over the walls, but some parts of the wall were less guarded than others. Must be Elisabeth’s work. If Elisabeth was done, then it was about time. He ran into a nearby building and closed the door behind him. Something fell on the ground, and he turned around. A soldier was smoking a cigarette, and his mouth was agape. His gun was on the table.

The soldier reached for it just as Jan’s knife found the side of his head. He fell onto the floor on his side, blood bleeding from his ears. Jan crouched below the single window across the table and opened his watch. 00:45. He covered his ears and closed his eyes. The noise was gone from the world, and then it ripped it apart. Jan was blown back by the force of the explosion and fell onto the floor next to the corpse. He shook his head and stood up, taking out his gun.

He stepped out into the camp and was greeted by chaos. The walls that had been standing around the camp just a few minutes ago had massive holes along it. Some parts completely collapsed, limbs of buried soldiers poking out in between the rubble. Blood and bodies were strewn all over ground near the walls. And the tranquility of the night was shattered by gunfire.

The resistance had begun moving in, two dozen of them streaming into the camp from the holes in the wall. They were shooting down fleeing soldiers like rats in a cage, still disoriented from the explosions. Jan raised his gun and joined the fray.

One shot. One dead. Another shot. A soldier fell on his knees, grasping his arm. Another shot silenced him forever. They quickly moved through the camp, and soon half was under their control. A squad of soldiers held their ground, hiding behind sandbags with the still-standing wall behind them. Three resistance members fell dead to the ground as the machine gun unleashed its bullets.

But it didn’t last long. A specter descended on them from behind, jumping from the wall and landing in their midst. They could only look at the intruder before two fell back, their necks red with blood. Another fell, a gunshot to his head. And another, falling over the sandbags. Jan led the resistance in charging their position, overwhelming the squad and killing them all. When he reached her, Elisabeth was wiping her blades on the sleeves of a dead soldier.

***

The soldiers retreated. The opening of the cave was fortified by another, thicker and better defended wall. Those that survived the initial onslaught of the rebels regrouped and took their positions at the battlements. Heaving and battered, they took out everything they had in the armoury: machine guns, grenades, and anti-materiel rilfes. The barrels of their weapons jutting out from the tops of the walls were like pikes that led no man through.

From their position, the soldiers exchanged fire with the rebels and managed to hold them off. A few rebels fell, either dead or dying, and were promptly dragged away. Before they knew what was happening, the battlefield was empty. There was only rubble, corpses, and fire. The eerie silence that followed the heavy gunfire, explosions, and screams unsettled them. Their brows were wet with cold sweat and their eyes picked up every little movement, real or not.

“Are they gone?” asked one of them, lifting up his slightly overzied helmet. “Where did they go?”

No answer came, either from his comrades nor the battlefield. Their breathing ragged, their hearts beating so loudly that their ears felt it, an answer finally came.

A lone figure appeared out of the smoke and dust. Clothed in a black coat that reached his legs, the man steadily moved forward. A hood was pulled over his head. His eyes were hidden by the beak that extended over his face. He held no weapon in his hands as he came to a stop. The soldiers all aimed their barrels at him, his confidence and presence more terrifying than the entire attack had been.

“Halt!” a sergeant shouted. “Stop right there, rebel. Drop your weapons, if you have any, and surrender!”

He did not answer. He did not even move. It was as if he had turned into a stone, as frozen as the corpses strewn behind him. When he tilted his head up, all the men jumped and aimed their weapons once more. It wasn’t enough to see his eyes, but his mouth was visible. And then he smirked.

Gunfire erupted from their sides. Men on their flanks fell dead from the bullets that rained down on them. The sergeant saw rebels approaching from both left and right as his men scrambled to meet the incoming threat. But he remembered the lone figure who had approached the wall and aimed his submachine gun at him.

Except, he wasn’t there anymore. It took him a split second to realise that the figure was running straight at them, towards the wall. What, he thinks he can climb up? He’d be a sitting duck. All the more perfect for the soldiers.

“Kill him!” he shouted to his nearest men.

But the spot the soldiers shot at was empty before the bullets hit. Instead, the lone rebel was now in front of him, having jumped over the battlements. The sergeant caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes – cold, hard, and ruthless – as the blade embedded itself in his neck. The lone figure left his vision, to be replaced by the clear, blue sky. His ears were ringing, but within it were screams, shots, and the sound of blades swishing through the air. His head fell sidewards, and he could just see the man drive his blade through a soldier’s heart before the sergeant’s life ebbed away.

***

The battle was over. Two dozen SS soldiers lay dead on the walls and on the cave floor. Their positions were taken over by the rebels, who kept a close watch from the battlements just in case reinforcements came. Half a dozen of the enemy were kneeling with their hands behind their head, battered and bloodied. In contrast to their defeated and fearful faces, the rebels pointing their weapons at them were smiling and celebrating.

“Vítězství!” Kristián shouted at him in greeting, his face caked with dirt and sweat. “A great victory, my friend.”

“A great victory indeed. How many people did you free?”

“Two hundred, at least. We’re still counting. Some were wounded, caught in the explosions and crossfire. A few unfortunately didn’t survive. But at least most of them did.”

Jan nodded, turning his eyes to the exhausted but grateful haggard men resting near the mouth of the cave, drinking the little water the resistance brought with them.

“What about their commander?” he asked Kristián, walking deeper into the cave.

“He’s holed up in his office, a little bit further in,” he said, pointing to a lit spot in the distance. “We didn’t shoot or anything, just like you asked. But what will you do?”

“I just want to have a little talk with him.”

They passed the captured soldiers, who eyed Jan with fear and awe.

“What shall we do with them?” Kristián asked.

“Kill them.”

Kristián stopped in his tracks. “What? Just kill them, like that?”

“They’re not useful. They’re unlikely to give us anything useful. And I don’t think the resistance is in a position to keep prisoners.”

Jan left Kristián to deal with the prisoners as he went to where the commander was oh-so-courageously holding out. Kevin, Elisabeth, and four resistance members were keeping their weapons trained on the door.

“Fire!” came Kristián’s order from the mouth of the cave. A volley of shots came after, followed by the sound of corpses falling onto the ground.

“He’s still holed up in there?” Jan asked Elisabeth.

“Yes. And I think there’s one more in there. His bodyguard or adjutant maybe.”

“We don’t want the Czechoslovaks to know about this. We can handle this ourselves.”

He turned to the four resistance members and told them that they didn’t need anymore help. He thanked them and they left towards the entrance of the cave. That left the three Assassins cornering the small room built into the rock.

“Explosives should do,” Elisabeth said.

Jan turned to Kevin, who nodded and walked cautiously towards the door. He took out one of the improvised explosives out of his bag and stuck it onto the door. He quickly ran back and gestured. Ten seconds. They took cover behind some nearby crates and waited for the explosion.

When it came, it rocked the entire cave. At one point, Jan was concerned that the stalactites jutting out of the ceiling would fall down and kill them. The explosion prompted some of the resistance members to come. Jan left Elisabeth to deal with them and went in through the hole that used to be the door with Kevin.

File cabinets, books, and papers were strewn all over the room. True enough, there were two people in the room: their commander and his bodyguard. When the bodyguard recovered and saw Jan, he raised his gun. But Jan’s bullet had gone through his forehead, and he slumped back onto the wall, his head bleeding.

“You must be Lasch,” Jan said, approaching the commander. He crawled back towards the corner, eyeing Jan with a mixture of terror and hatred.

“You think you won, Assassin? Ha! This is only a minor setback. The Templar Order shall–”

Jan kicked him square in the face, causing blood to come out of his nose. Jan pulled him up by the collar and held his wristblade to Lasch’s neck.

“Let me rephrase that. Are you Lasch?” Jan smiled as sweetly as he could.

“Y-yes,” stammered out Lasch, his eyes bloodshot.

“Good.” Jan disengaged his blade. Lasch relaxed a little. He didn’t see Jan’s fist coming from the side, hitting his jaw. He fell to the ground, blood seeping from his nose and mouth. Jan dragged him by the collar and put him on a chair.

“Tie him up,” he told Kevin as he went to take a look at the documents strewn around the room.

On the desk were strewn dozens of reports from the excavation, interspersed among thick books on history and archaeology. Something reflecting light caught Jan’s eye at the foot of the desk. It was a lighter. It was a good thing they broke in when they did.

“Thought you could burn it all, huh?” Jan said as he lifted up the lighter for him to see.

Jan went through the documents on the desk while Elisabeth searched the rest of the room. Lasch sat calmly tied up on the chair with Kevin menacingly standing next to him, rifle at the ready. The documents were numerous and finding something actionable proved to be like finding a needle in a haystack. But buried beneath two thick books on Czech history, Jan found gold.

“What is it?” Elisabeth asked as she came to Jan’s side.

“Something about a map, and a key. Seems they found both here a few months ago.”

“A map and key to what?”

“That I don’t know, but we can ask our little friend here.” Their eyes moved to the bloodied Lasch. The three Assassins now stood around the commander.

“W-what?”

“What’s the map and key the documents talked about?” Jan asked in front of him.

“I don’t know anything about that. I’m just a field officer.”

Elisabeth started choking him. “Don’t play with me. Just one flick and my wristblade will go straight into your throat.”

“Easy,” Jan said. Elisabeth pulled back her hand and Lasch started laughing. He must’ve been trying to sound confident and strong, but the uneven and ragged laughter only made him sound nervous.

“You Assassins are so- so quick to violence! Even if I knew anything, what makes you think that I-I’ll tell you?”

There was the sound of crunching bone as Elisabeth’s fist met Lasch’s jaw.

“Look, do you know something or don’t you?”

“I told you, damn it!” He spit out blood. “I don’t know anything.”

“Then you’re useless. He’s all yours.”

“W-w-wait!”

“Do you have something for me now?”

“It’s a m-map, to a weapons vault.”

“A weapons vault?” Jan couldn’t see why they’d spend so many resources on something like that. After all, Nazi Germany is practically a war factory.

“Y-yes. The ancient texts say that Those Who Came Before held great power. Weapons of unimaginable destruction, leagues beyond our own technology.”

“’Those Who Came Before’?” Jan asked.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t know?”

The Assassins looked at each other. They had never heard anything about that. Lasch laughed but was promptly silenced by the tip of Elisabeth’s blade on his neck.

“Enough laughing and start talking,” she threatened.

“’Those Who Came Before’. It’s exactly like that. A powerful race that came before humanity. Millennia before we were even here, They had raised great cities and empires throughout the world. Our technology today doesn’t even compare to what they had then. We are like children to them.”

“Sounds like a lot of occultist mumbo jumbo,” Jan said. “You expect me to believe that sort of story? If they were so great, where are they now? And besides, I’ve never even heard of them.”

“That’s exactly what we wanted you all to believe. The Templar Order is a great organisation, far greater than you rats! All discoveries were hidden, covered up. Only the enlightened should have access to that knowledge.”

“And now you’re saying you’ve found a map to the vault. And the key too?”

“And they want to end the war once and for all, with weapons that the Allies can’t hope to match,” Elisabeth commented.

“Then where are they? The map and key.”

“I-I don’t know.”

Jan sighed. “Look. It took a lot to get here. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was. Do you know the problem with you Templars? Every time we get a lead, you all just decided to bite a little pill in your mouth and kill yourself, leaving us with nothing to go on. I bet you even have one in your mouth right now.”

Jan could see him gulp. He continued.

“But you know something interesting? You’re not dead. You’re very much alive, in fact. So, the question is, Herr Lasch, why aren’t you dead?”

Jan looked straight into his eyes. Eyes that tried to pierce through all the facades people build, to go directly to their heart.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you? Of dying.”

Silence, but Lasch’s expression had changed. There was no more confidence, no more smugness in his face. All that was left was resignation and despair, like the face of a child who had been caught stealing cookies from the kitchen.

“And if you want to keep living, then tell us where they are now.”

“T-t-they’re going to kill me,” he stammered. “I can’t tell you.”

“Don’t worry, they won’t.”

Lasch looked up, his eyes fearful and nervous. But within his mind, a small flicker of hope, hope at staying alive, had arisen. And Jan could see it. Finally, Lasch sighed and resigned himself to his fate.

“It is with Heydrich.”

Their hearts dropped when the name came. Heydrich. The most powerful man in the Nazi-occupied country. The commander of legions of German soldiers and SS and Templar monsters. It just had to be him.

“We can’t get it from Heydrich,” Elisabeth said.

It’s practically impossible, agreed Kevin.

“Then,” Jan said after thinking for a while, “we’ll go straight to it. Lasch, where is the vault?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, tell us what you know now, or we’ll make sure your death is as slow and painful as it can be!”

Jan didn’t realise that his voice was rising until the words had left his mouth.

“I-I swear! I don’t know anything! The map was not yet deciphered when I sent it to headquarters.”

“Looks like he’s telling the truth,” Elisabeth said. “Guess we have no choice.”

Jan cursed under his breath. How were they going to take the map and key from the most secure place in all of Czechoslovakia? All under the nose of the most powerful and well-protected man?

“Fine.”

Lasch relaxed. “I-I’ve told you everything. You won’t let them kill me, right? Assassins are known for their word.”

Jan chuckled. A few minutes ago, he was spouting Templar ideology and mocking them, but now he’s asking for their protection.

“Yeah, Lasch,” he said, putting a hand on Lasch’s shoulder. “We won’t let them kill you.”

Lasch smiled. But in the split second before she shot him, the colour in his face drained away. Elisabeth made sure to miss his heart, to allow him to live just a shorter while before they killed him. He collapsed on the chair, eyes going wild and blood seeping from under the ropes that tied him. His eyes flew from Assassin to Assassin, in them a mixture of contempt, confusion, fear. And then she shot him in the face.

***

The two men sat in the bushes, their skin itchy from the foliage and their skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the heat. They had been waiting for hours, but Heydrich’s car had not come by.

“Jozef,” called out Kubiš. “I don’t think he’s coming through here.”

“Damn it. Let’s just wait a bit longer.”

It had been five months since they were airdropped back home and made contact with the resistance. Part of the Czechoslovak soldiers in exile in Britain, they had been chosen specifically to carry out Operation Arthropoid. Their objective was simple: the assassination of Reinhard Heydrich. But when their first plan had no way of succeeding, they settled on waiting for Heydrich’s car to pass through the forest road between his residence and Prague. They had a cable ready to pull in front of his car and kill him there. But several hours have passed, and there was still no sign of Heydrich.

“Look, it’s Lieutenant Opálka.”

Lieutenant Opálka – their commander – approached them from the cover of the trees. Jozef had always found him impressive back in Britain. Opálka’s hair was always neatly combed, and his face clean-shaven. He had a strong face, the kind with a well-defined jaw and chiseled features. But despite all that, his eyes were kind. All in all, Opálka was a dependable commander, and felt like a serious and dependable older brother more than a commanding officer. But the Opálka now coming towards them was not as tidy. His hair was longer, and the stubble on his chin was growing.

They saluted him when he arrived. “What’s wrong, sir?” Kubiš asked.

“At ease. Looks like Heydrich’s not coming here. We should go back before somebody starts suspecting something.”

“But, sir, we could just wait a little more. Who knows? Maybe Heydrich will come by soon.”

“I wouldn’t get my hopes up. Another failure, boys. But we’ll get him, for sure.”

Jozef couldn’t argue. They picked up their stuff and made their way back to the safehouse. To call it a safehouse was giving it more credit than it was due. It was the apartment of the Moravec family, who were sympathetic to the cause. For the last few weeks, they had graciously given them a place to sleep, eat, and plan. Jozef didn’t like relying on them but not because there was anything wrong with them. It was just that by doing this, they were putting themselves in danger. And Jozef didn’t want anything like that to happen to them. When they arrived in the apartment, the Moravec son Alois was standing in the doorway.

“A failure,” Jozef announced. “The bastard didn’t show up. I can’t believe it.”

“You had faulty intelligence.”

That wasn’t a voice they recognised. Jozef took out his gun and aimed it at the man sitting in the living room armchair. The upper half of his body was hidden by the darkness, and it was only then that Jozef realised the lights weren’t on.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Calm down, Mr. Gabčík!” cried out Alois. “He’s a friend.”

“How did he get in here?”

“I let him in.”

“What?!”

“Relax… Jozef, was it? I’m a friend.” The man stood up and walked out of the shadows. His accent, his manners, his look. All undeniably German. Jozef didn’t like this one bit.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t shoot you where you stand right now.”

“I can give you two. One, I’ll be at your throat before you take the shot. Two, my friend over there has her rifle trained on you.”

Jozef turned his gun to the corner. A woman – similarly dressed to the man – was standing there, her rifle trained at him. Whatever he did, he’d get shot. He can only take one of them out. Is this how his mission is going to end? Dying at the hands of German agents in an apartment? Not even having the chance to die doing something useful for his country?

“Please calm down, Mr. Gabčík. He’s an ally.”

“How do you know that?” asked Opálka, who had his own gun out but wasn’t pointing it at anyone.

“I confirmed it with the resistance. They vouched for him.”

“We’re wasting precious time here,” the man said. “How about you lower that gun and let’s discuss the mission like adults.”

Jozef didn’t dare lower his gun.

“Who are you? What the hell do you want?”

“I’m Jan Adler. We’re here to help you kill Heydrich.”

Chapter Text

Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – March 1942

The backroom, usually used for storage and as a kitchen, was now cramped as members of the Czech resistance, the paratroopers flown in from Britain, and the three Assassins stood around the table in the centre of the room. The air was thick with anxiety and distrust. Each group stood by itself, crowding together to each other as if for protection. It was Uncle Hajský, a friendly-looking bespectacled local resistance leader with a flat cap, who finally broke the silence.

“It seems everyone is here. I assume you have met?” he asked, referring to Jozef’s group and the Assassins.

“Yes, we have,” answered Jan.

“Why are they here?” Jozef demanded, looking straight at Uncle Hajský.

“They are here to help you in your mission.”

“They’re Germans. We can’t trust them. For all we know, they’re spies who’ll turns us over to the Gestapo as soon as we let our guard down.”

Jozef eyed them with intense suspicion and distrust. Jan made no response, simply looking calmly towards Uncle Hajský.

“And besides,” Jozef continued, “you didn’t even support the mission.”

“And we still don’t.” The answer came from Vaněk, a middle-aged leader of the local resistance with a thick mustache and short, black hair. “As we’ve said before, killing Heydrich will accomplish nothing. It’ll lead to retaliation from the Nazis, making our people suffer further. But if you’re going to do it, then by God, I hope you succeed and gain something from it. And these people are here to help you.”

“We can’t trust them.”

“They have been here far longer than you. Months before you even parachuted into Czechoslovakia, they were leading raids and attacks on the Germans in the countryside. I assure you; they are not spies. I’d trust them with my life.”

For a moment, Jozef went silent. His eyes went from the resistance leaders to the Assassins and back again. Jan had to say something.

“Not all Germans support the Nazis. We too suffer under them. The first country the Nazis invaded was their own.”

“And assuming all that’s true, what do you get from killing Heydrich?”

“He has something we need.”

“And what would that be?”

Jan stayed silent. Telling too much would compromise the mission.

“See, we can’t trust them.”

“Action speaks louder than words, Mr. Gabčík,” said Uncle Hajský. “While you were safe in Britain, these three were with us fighting on the frontlines risking their lives to help us further our cause. Isn’t that proof enough?”

Jozef looked like he had been slapped in the face. With an expression filled with both shame and irritation, he looked from Uncle Hajský to Jan and finally relented.

“Fine. But if you want to help, don’t get in our way. We’re doing the mission our way.”

Jan nodded and soon afterwards the paratroopers left the backroom. Jan, Elisabeth, and Kevin all spread out around the kitchen table. Uncle Hajský had taken off his glasses and was massaging his temple.

“That went better than expected, Uncle,” Jan said to him.

“I suppose. I’m glad you’re here, however. Those men are brave and doubtless they’ve been trained well by the British, but with such an important and high-ranking target we need all the help we can get.”

“You never told me that the resistance opposed killing Heydrich.”

“Yes.” It was Vaněk that answered him. “What is the point in killing Heydrich, I ask? Will that make our lives better? The Nazis will just send in a new governor. And what’s worse, there will be reprisals, I can assure you. Many people will suffer and die. But for what?”

Uncle Hajský was nodding in agreement. “But they don’t answer to us. They have their mission, and this is not the time for Czechoslovak to be fighting against Czechoslovak. If they’re going to do it, then they need all the help they can get.”

“But there might be trouble if they don’t trust us,” Jan continued. “I will try and speak to him, see if I can’t convince him to trust us.”

The two resistance leaders agreed, and the Assassins walked out of the café. Jan walked side-by-side with Elisabeth while Kevin trailed behind them. Vaněk’s words were floating around in his mind.

“He might be right, you know,” Jan said in hushed tones as he opened the door for Elisabeth and Kevin.

“About what?” she asked.

“If we kill Heydrich, they won’t just hunt down the resistance. We know what these Nazis are. Innocent people will die.”

“Yes, you’re probably right.”

Elisabeth kept walking, leaving Jan behind as the doubts occupied his mind. He ran after her, still making sure to not make a scene.

“Innocent men, women, children. They’ll die for something they didn’t sign up for, Elisabeth.”

Elisabeth stopped. Jan was caught off guard and almost jumped back. She turned around. Her striking blue eyes stared right into him. The same blue eyes that had seemed to pierce his soul in Kynsburg Castle. The same, passionate eyes that had rescued him from captivity. They were now full of fire, even more so than before. And then she spoke.

“So what?” Her tone was sharp and forceful, but she kept her voice low. “You want to pull out, is that it? Whether we take part in this or not, those soldiers will try.”

She pointed down the street, though they had no idea where the soldiers had gone.

“And have you forgotten the reason why we’re here in the first place? We’re not here because we want to help the resistance. We are here for a reason, Jan. Remember that. Remember who you are. We’re not just some resistance fighters. There’s a bigger picture than that. We are Assassins. Killing is our modus operandi. It always has, and always will be. We don’t spill the blood of the innocent. But Heydrich is far from innocent. And that bastard has something we need. That’s why we’re here, Jan. If you can’t live with that, then why are you even here? Why did you swear upon the Creed?”

Jan looked down. He couldn’t look into those eyes.

“I know,” was all that he could muster. Elisabeth turned around and continued walking, leaving him behind.

There was no choice. He knew that. Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent. So goes the first tenet of the Creed. Heydrich was no innocent. He deserved to die.

But he couldn’t help but wonder whether the blood of the people who were going to suffer the consequences would be on his hands too.

***

Click. The sound of the camera was barely audible to anyone but Jozef. He lowered it and took another look at the street in front of him. There was no way for him to know whether the photograph would be good until he developed it. Just in case, he brought the camera up to his eyes again and prepared to take another photograph.

“Planning?”

The voice came from his right. He lowered his camera, and his hand instinctively went to the gun hidden beneath his coat. Jan was looking straight at the road, not reacting to Jozef’s response. Jozef relaxed and went back to staring at the street, keeping his camera close to his chest.

“What do you want, Kraut?”

He put a cigarette to his mouth and lit it.

“To find some common ground.”

“Ha! And how do you suppose we do that?”

“Don’t have any fond memories of Germans, do you?”

“Well, they invaded and occupied my country and all. Not a lot of fond memories there.”

“And that’s why you fight.”

Silence followed for what seemed like an eternity. Jozef kept his eyes on the street and continued smoking his cigarette.

“You know,” Jan began. “If we were traitors, you’d be captured or dead already. Especially knowing that you plan to kill him.”

“My comrades, they’re fighting for their homeland. I know them. I trained with them. The resistance, they’re fighting for their homeland too. I don’t know them, but my government in London trusts them.”

He took the cigarette from his mouth and puffed smoke into the air before putting it back in.

“But you. I don’t know you. I don’t know why you’re here. And you’re not telling me.”

He turned towards Jan and looked him straight in the eyes.

“How am I supposed to trust you? Hm? We’re here risking our lives for a mission that might just be a one-way trip. Every bit of secrecy counts. You, you’re an unknown variable. And we don’t need unknown variables.”

He turned back towards the street and continued smoking.

“Why do you insist on doing this?” Jan asked.

“What do you mean?” Jozef’s tone was annoyed.

“You heard it back there. Killing Heydrich would invite retaliation. People will die. Innocent people.”

“We’re soldiers. We have our orders. It’s as simple as that.”

“Even knowing more people will die?”

“When the Nazis took over my country, I ran. I didn’t want to stand idly by while my country was conquered. The world didn’t care. They let Hitler take Czechoslovakia. I ran to Poland and joined the army there. Then Poland fell. Then I went to France and fought there. Then France fell. I’m tired of running. It’s time we struck back, did something for our country.”

Another bout of silence followed, before Jan finally spoke.

“3 years ago, I lost my father. It was during something called Kristallnacht. Ever heard of it?”

Jozef shook his head.

“All of a sudden, soldiers and brutes in the service of the Nazis rose up throughout Berlin. They targeted the Jewish people. Destroyed their homes, their business, their synagogues. And they killed many of them too. My father, he wouldn’t stand for it. Many did nothing and just watched as the slaughter happened. But not my father. He went out and fought against them. Tried to save as many Jews as possible.

He told me to stay put. But I didn’t listen. I went out, followed him. Tried to be of help. But we were ambushed by some soldiers. Even then, I could fight. But it wasn’t enough. They almost killed me. But my father… he saved me. At the cost of his own life. I couldn’t do anything to save him. I couldn’t reach him in time. Filled with despair and anger, I turned my attention towards the soldiers. I killed as many as I could before they retreated. And then I carried my father’s lifeless body back home. I couldn’t even tell my mother what had happened. I was too ashamed of it.

That day I swore. I swore vengeance on the people who killed my father.”

While he was speaking, Jozef said nothing. And then Jan turned to Jozef and met his eyes.

“This is why we fight. This is why we’re here. Heydrich has something we need that might be pivotal to ending this war. And every single one of those bastards that die, especially those at the top, count. We’re helping you to help ourselves, to bring them down. I can’t tell you what exactly we need from him, but we are working against the Nazis. We can only benefit from working together. So, what do you say we put aside any hostility and work together on this? You may know nothing about me, but you can be sure that I will help you kill Heydrich. At the very least, I assure you my hatred for them is genuine and it runs as deep as yours does.”

Jozef looked at his eyes and for a moment pondered to himself. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t break eye contact either. Then he turned his attention back to the street.

“I still don’t trust you, not fully. But you’re right. If you were out to get us, we’d be dead already. So, at least for this mission, I’ll accept your help.”

He held out his hand to Jan without turning.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jan asked as he shook Jozef’s hand firmly.

Chapter Text

The tram came to a halt. Jan and the two soldiers Josef Valčík and Adolf Opálka made their way through the people standing inside and alighted into the warm late spring sun of Prague. They were standing at a junction between the main street and a turn towards the west. Jozef Gabčík and Jan Kubiš were walking towards them from the pavement on the curve, briefcases in hand. All five, clad in coats over suits with fedoras on their heads, huddled together. Of the Assassins, only Jan was present. Too many people would’ve drawn unnecessary attention, they had agreed. Gabčík took out a cigarette and Opálka, who was already smoking with Valčík, lit it before Gabčík put it in his mouth.

“We have plenty of time,” Kubiš said as he looked up from his watch. “08.25.” He looked around then asked the three who had come from the tram. “Where’s Čurda?”

Čurda was another soldier who was supposed to be there, but neither Opálka nor Valčík knew where he was. They just shrugged.

“Never mind,” Gabčík said. “Valčík, take the street behind me. We have some sun, so take this.” He gave Valčík a rectangular mirror. “If he approaches without an armed escort, use it to signal.”

“And if he does?” Valčík asked as he put the mirror in his pocket.

“Then light a cigarette.” He turned to show them the curve. “When the car slows down to take the corner, I will step out and open fire with the Sten gun. This will signal the attack. Kubiš, Kraut, you stand behind the attack point. Kubiš, see if you can throw grenades at the armed escort if there is one.”

“What about me?” Jan asked.

“You support Kubiš.” He turned his attention to Opálka. “Opálka, try to slow walk, across here,” he said as he pointed at the curve. “When he approaches, maybe you can slow him down before he takes the corner. Is that clear?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good luck,” wished Gabčík before they split up and went to their respective positions. Jan, Kubiš, and Gabčík crossed the road. They made their way to a bench, behind which was Gabčík’s parked bicycle. Gabčík and Kubiš sat down on the bench, while Jan leaned against the lamppost standing right next to it.

Gabčík took off his beige coat and put it over his right shoulder, covering half his body. Then he reached into his briefcase and took out the disassembled pieces of the Sten gun, a weapon of British make that he had smuggled into Czechoslovakia with him. Jan kept his eyes out and went from person to person, checking to see if anyone was paying any undue attention to them. His hand went inside his coat and touched the handgun in his holster. Satisfied that it was there, he took his hand back out. Gabčík assembled the Sten gun under the cover of his coat.

“All good?” Kubiš asked him as he finished.

“Good.”

Their eyes went to the clock, which was showing 9.20 A.M. Kubiš stood up and went down the road. Jan followed him, and the two of them stood near another lamppost across from where Opálka was standing. Kubiš’ face made an expression as if there was something stuck in his throat. Jan kept his eyes on him, and saw his gaze fall to his right hand. It was shaking hard and Kubiš had to hold it still with his other hand to make it stop.

“Like we trained,” Kubiš muttered to himself.

Jan put his hand to Kubiš’ shoulder and smiled at him reassuringly.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said, tapping his shoulder before removing his hand.

Kubiš looked at him, his breathing slightly ragged, and nodded. From the corners of their eyes, they saw Gabčík stand up and walk towards the edge of the street, the coat still covering half his body and the gun concealed beneath it. Kubiš looked at the watch on his wrist. Heydrich would be coming anytime now.

But a few moments later, Jan and Kubiš saw light hitting Gabčík’s face. Valčík was signaling them. No armed escort. Gabčík nodded at them as he prepared his gun. Kubiš reached into his briefcase to grab hold of a grenade, while Jan pulled out his handgun from its holster, making sure to keep it hidden as well.

A black, open-top car came into view. There was a driver and Heydrich was sitting in the passenger seat. Valčík ran across the road behind it. And as it turned onto the curve, Opálka slowly crossed the road and forced the car to slow down. He held his hand up to the car in apology as it kept honking at him, and even Heydrich was eyeing him. The car was between the pavement and the tram that had just arrived. Gabčík walked onto the middle of the street, threw away his coat, and aimed the gun straight at Heydrich. And then he pulled the trigger.

But there was no hail of bullets. The gun jammed. The car came to a halt. Heydrich stood up in his seat and started shouting at Gabčík as he tried in vain to get the gun working. At the same time as Heydrich took out his handgun, Gabčík threw away the Sten gun and took out his own. But before any of them could shoot, Kubiš threw the grenade, and it exploded underneath the car. The force of the explosion shattered the windows of the tram, and the street was filled with the panicked shouts of men and women.

Amidst the smoke, the driver got out of the car and began to shoot at Jan and Kubiš. They took cover behind different lampposts. Kubiš ran for his bike and cycled away in the direction of the tram. The driver tried to shoot him but was shot upon by Valčík. Jan and Valčík sent a few shots towards the driver, but the driver managed to hit Valčík in the thigh and he fell to the ground. Opálka dragged him away. The driver tried to shoot Kubiš but instead shot an innocent bystander in the back. Meanwhile, Heydrich was shooting in Gabčík’s direction. Gabčík shot back, and for a while they exchanged fire in the street. With Kubiš gone, Heydrich’s driver turned his attention to Gabčík and together they shot at him, but he ran away. Heydrich shouted at his driver to follow him, and the driver ran after Gabčík with gun in hand.

Jan took this chance and leaned out, shooting Heydrich in the arm and leg. He shouted in pain, and before he could react Jan had closed the distance and crashed into him, pinning him against the car and forcing his hand to let go of the gun. Jan’s left hand held Heydrich by the collar while he held the gun on his other hand to Heydrich’s head.

Heydrich looked at Jan in contempt. It was the first time Jan had a good look at the man. His large forehead dominated his head, and his jaws were well-defined and sharp. His cap had fallen to reveal a closely cropped but receding hairline. His face showed all the signs of a cold-hearted man, the so-called “Man with the Iron Heart”. And his piercing blue eyes only added to it, his gaze menacing and intense.

“What are you waiting for, Untermensch?” taunted Heydrich. “Go on, do it. Kill me.”

“Not yet. The map. Where is it?”

“The map?”

Jan pulled his collar.

“You know what map. The map to the weapons’ vault.”

At that, Heydrich just started laughing.

“So, the Czechoslovak rebels know of the vault. How quaint. And what makes you think I’ll tell you?”

Jan extended the hidden blade on his left hand, and the tip hit Heydrich’s chin just enough to draw blood. Heydrich’s taunting smile faded.

“Assassin,” he spat, with a tone of disgust. “So, the rats still dare venture out of the sewer.”

“I don’t have time for your games.” Jan pulled the gun and aimed it at Heydrich’s leg and shot. Heydrich screamed in pain.

“Where is the map?”

Heydrich started laughing maniacally.

“You’re too late, Assassin. The map is on its way to Berlin right now. The Führer will have it soon, and then no one can stop us.”

Damn it, Jan thought. They were too late. But if they can still take it en route…

“Then you’re no longer useful.”

Just as Jan was about to plunge his hidden blade deep into Heydrich’s neck, shots rang out around him as German soldiers arrived on the scene.

“Kill him!” shouted Heydrich as he pushed Jan off of him and ran for cover behind his car.

Jan fell onto his back as bullets whizzled past him. A squad of German soldiers were getting off a truck and shooting at him with rifles. Jan got to his feet, took out his gun, and shot back. He hit one in the knee, and another in the shoulder. They were still shooting at him, so he ran as fast as he could while shooting back.

“Verdammt!” he shouted. He was this close to taking out Heydrich. But there was no point in him staying there, killing Heydrich, if he himself would not live to see another day.

With smoke and the sound of gunfire in the air, Jan disappeared into the surrounding buildings. The soldiers gave chase, but soon lost him.

Chapter Text

Prague, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – 18 June 1942

The sun had not yet risen when Jan reached the large, wooden double doors of the Saints Cyril and Methodius Cathedral. There was light on the horizon, and a few people on the street. He knocked on the door and waited. A few moments later, an Orthodox priest clad in a black robe opened the door.

“I’m a friend. I need to speak to them.”

The priest looked up and down at him and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jan sighed. “Anthropoid,” he said.

At this, the priest’s shoulders relaxed, and he took a deep breath. “Come in,” he beckoned as he opened the door for Jan.

As they walked into the church in between the chairs, the priest spoke.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were a Gestapo officer. You’re German, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

He led Jan up a flight of stairs to the left of the altar and came upon the soldiers sleeping. They were sleeping on the floor, with only some blankets to cover them. There were seven of them and they had nothing but handguns. Gabčík was the only one who was awake. When the priest and Jan came up the stairs, he stood up and went to them.

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a low voice. “Did something happen?”

They already knew most of the latest information. Heydrich had survived and was taken to the hospital, but he died there two weeks ago of his wounds. The Nazis had been brutal in their response. Thousands had been arrested. The villages of Lidice and Ležáky had been devastated. For the former, the men were killed, the women and children sent to concentration camps. The latter, all the adults were killed. The villages were then burnt to the ground.

“Yesterday, the Moravecs’ flat was raided.” The Moravecs were a kind Czech family who had sheltered Gabčík and Kubiš for quite some time. “Ms. Moravec went to the bathroom, took a cyanide pill, and killed herself. Mr. Moravec and their son Ata were captured.”

At this news, Gabčík’s heart dropped. He looked down and leaned against a wall for support. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“You must leave,” the priest said. “The bishop said so. You are endangering the church and her people by staying here.”

Gabčík turned to the priest.

“Where are we supposed to go, Father?”

“I don’t know. But by staying here, you may cause the deaths of more innocents.”

The priest then went downstairs, leaving Jan and Gabčík alone with the sleeping soldiers. Gabčík turned to Jan.

“And you. Why are you still here? Didn’t Heydrich give you what you want?”

“He did. The others are taking care of it. But I decided to stay behind and help.” Kevin and Elisabeth had departed the day they tried to kill Heydrich, in pursuit of the map to the weapons’ vault on its way to Berlin.

“Why?”

“After what happened with Heydrich, the Nazis aren’t going to stop what they’re doing. They’ve killed thousands of innocents already, and they’re hunting you down. I just couldn’t stand by and watch that happen. I’m staying here, to help you. Let’s try and get you out of here.”

Gabčík was visibly moved by what Jan said. He came closer and held out his hand.

“Thank you, for not abandoning us. You’re not so bad for a Kraut.”

Jan took his hand and shook it firmly. But then the sound of wheels and engines came.

“What’s that?” Gabčík asked.

The two of them hurried to the window at the end of the aisle, facing the front of the church. Jan’s heart dropped as they came into view. Nazi armoured cars and trucks arriving on the street, unloading soldiers by the dozen and setting up a perimeter around the church. The building was now surrounded by soldiers and barbed wire. Gabčík and Jan turned to each other, their worst fears having come true.

“We have to wake everyone up.”

The two of them went back to where the soldiers were sleeping and shook them awake.

“The Germans are surrounding the church.”

Opálka took his gun and spoke to everyone there.

“Take defensive positions. We hold them from here. Bublík, take the upper gallery.”

“I, the Kraut, Kubiš, Opálka, Bublík will handle things up here. The rest of you, go into the crypt and continue the work.”

“What work?”

“We’ve been trying to dig a tunnel to escape. There’s probably not enough time, but it’s all we can do. Let’s go.”

The young soldier named Bublík went up the stairs into the upper gallery, while Jan and the rest fanned out on the walkways above the hall. Everyone only had handguns, while the men outside were armed with rifles, submachine guns, and even machine guns.

With bated breath, they waited. Cocking their handguns, they prepared for the enemy to come in. They didn’t have to wait long before four German soldiers came into the church, armed with standard-issue rifles and submachine guns. They walked down the church slowly, making sure to look left and right with every step. One of them went to the side and opened a door, finding it empty. When they reached the middle of the hall, that’s when it began.

Jan and the Czechoslovak soldiers opened fire on the enemy. Opálka drew first blood and unloaded his magazine on the German soldier at the rear, sending several shots straight into his back. Then Jan and Kubiš opened fire, shooting indiscriminately into the church hall below, before Gabčík and Bublík joined them. Soon, the German soldiers were either dying or taking cover as best as they could among the chairs that made for pews in the church and the tables on the sides. But the tide turned when a squad of German soldiers entered and began shooting up, forcing Jan and the others to take cover. As they kept suppressing fire on them, they came in and dragged away the wounded and retreated out of the church.

“Block the stairway!” shouted Kubiš from across the church.

Everyone moved from their positions to the stairway and began throwing anything they could down it to block the way: chairs, tables, benches, desks, bookshelves.

“That’s our only way out,” said Bublík as he saw the others block the stairway.

“It’s also the only way up,” countered Opálka.

Bublík soon joined them in throwing furniture down the stairs. Then when it was done, they took their weapons and went into cover. They nodded to each other, while heaving equally from throwing the furniture and the pressure that was on them.

But then the machine gun came. It started firing indiscriminately into the church’s second floor, destroying the windows, and littering the walls with holes. Jan and the others immediately lay down on the floor and covered their ears from the deafening noise of the machine gun. There was no way for the machine gunner to know where they were, but for some reason his shots kept coming close to Bublík. He rolled up into a ball, trying to make himself as small a target as possible. All the while Kubiš was shouting his name. Once the shooting stopped, Kubiš went to him.

“I don’t want to die,” he kept repeating.

“Bublík,” called out Kubiš as he tried to calm him down. “Look at me. Breathe with me. Deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Bublík tried his best to follow, though the way he was breathing seemed to Jan like he was heaving.

“I don’t want to die today,” he muttered again.

Kubiš took Bublík’s gun and pulled the magazine out. Then he flicked through the bullets, as if counting them, before handing it over to Bublík.

“Here. Look. Just like we trained. Nice and easy.”

Bublík tried to do the same, with much less speed and precision.

“That’s it,” Kubiš said once he had calmed down a little.

“I’m sorry, Kubiš.”

“Okay? Nice and easy.”

Kubiš put his hand on Bublík’s cheek.

“We’re all here with you. And all of Czechoslovakia is with us.”

There were shouts outside, the commander of the German soldiers ordering them to move.

“The altar!” Jan shouted.

Kubiš turned his head as Jan made his way to the railing and aimed his handgun below. Just as he expected, German troops were swarming out of the altar. Jan and the soldiers opened fire on them from above, taking down several of them. But the numerous Germans shot back, and Jan and the others were forced to take cover behind pillars and walls. They reloaded but couldn’t find a chance to shoot back. Jan leaned out and saw that they were throwing down a table onto its side.

“I think they’re setting up a machine gun!” he shouted.

Opálka leaned out of cover and shot at the soldiers handling the table. One fell, while the other took cover. But soon he was forced to take cover again as the soldiers shot at him. For a while, they kept repeating that. Lean out, fire, take cover. They exchanged bullets with the enemy soldiers. Jan kept his focus on the table, where the machine gunner crew had arrived and was setting it up. He shot at them, taking down one man. But they quickly dragged him away and soon three men were shooting at him, forcing him to return to cover.

And then hell began as the machine gun unleashed a hail of bullets at them, leaving its mark on the walls. Jan, Kubiš, and Bublík were on one side, while Gabčík and Opálka were on the other. Anytime either side started firing, the machine gun would direct its focus on them, forcing them back into cover. As they stood behind cover, a hook came over the barricade they had set up on the stairs.

“They’re trying to get up!” Jan shouted.

“Close the stairs!” shouted Kubiš at Bublík.

Bublík ran upstairs towards the upper gallery. Jan and the others could hear the gunshots as Bublík emptied his magazine towards the bottom of the stairs. They continued exchanging fire, but then the hook pulled down the barricade. The stairway was now open.

“Bublík, the stairs!” shouted Kubiš once more.

This time they didn’t hear Bublík’s gunshots, only that of the machine gun.

“We lost the stairway!” he shouted from above.

With the stairs on their side, Gabčík moved from cover towards the stairs that led to the upper gallery, while Opálka remained on the same side but moved past the stairs and took cover behind a bookshelf. When the German soldiers started coming up, Jan and Kubiš shot at them, taking down three or four men. What followed was a brief silence, before their next challenge came into their sights.

The Germans threw a grenade up the stairs. Jan, Kubiš, and Opálka looked at each other. The grenade had landed just out of Opálka’s reach, but it was right in front of him. All of them took cover and the explosion almost destroyed their ears.

When Jan and Kubiš looked back, one side of Opálka’s body had been badly burnt. His hand and the side of his face were covered with burn wounds and shrapnel. Opálka loaded the bullets into his gun, then looked at Jan and Kubiš.

Without a word, he shot himself in the head.

Kubiš’s eyes were wide, and his mouth was agape. Jan was just as shocked, but he realised the situation was dire.

“Come on, we’ve got to move.”

Jan pulled Kubiš up, and they regrouped with Gabčík.

“Where’s Opálka?” he asked.

“Dead,” Jan answered.

Kubiš rested against the wall, heaving. He seemed out of it, as if the battle was no longer on his mind. Bublík and Gabčík opened fire on soldiers coming up the stairs onto the second floor.

“Stairs!” Bublík shouted.

Kubiš snapped back to reality. He and Jan took cover on each side of the walls at the end of the stairs leading to the upper gallery. When the soldiers came up, they opened fire. The lone soldier that had tried to go up now lay dead at the landing of the stairs. Kubiš then tried to reload.

“I’m out,” he said.

Bublík threw him a magazine.

“Last one,” he said.

Jan too was on his second-to-last magazine. Gunfire came onto the upper gallery, forcing Gabčík and Bublík to retreat further in. Jan heard footsteps. In unison, he and Kubiš came out of cover and shot at the three German soldiers that were trying to come up again. Two fell, while one retreated. But it didn’t last, as he threw a grenade into the hall. Without thinking, Kubiš and Jan ran down the hallway and took cover behind the next set of walls. It exploded and deafened their ears. The upper gallery was a single hallway with arches, but they were running out of them as they were reaching the end of the hall.

They kept shooting as the German soldiers tried to force their way through. As grenades came, they threw them back. Bublík threw a grenade back down, but another was thrown and fell behind him. He tried to throw it back.

“No!” shouted Jan.

Kubiš shouted his name, but it was too late. The grenade exploded and the force threw Bublík off balance. He fell back and slipped, falling over the side of the gallery and just barely managed to hold onto the floor. Kubiš and Gabčík ran to him and tried to pull him up, while Jan opened fire on the soldiers below to provide cover. But the enemy outnumbered them, and Bublík fell. Kubiš fell back, injured from a bullet. Gabčík took cover behind a wall and shot at some German soldiers who came. Jan looked around, trying to find some way for them to get out of this alive.

“This window,” he said as he went to it, knocking on the glass. “I can probably break it. We could jump out, disappear into the city.”

“You can, but we can’t,” Gabčík said as he shot at the hallway again.

“You won’t know until you try.”

“We don’t need to try. We know. But you should go.”

“What? And leave you here to die? I’m no coward.”

“It’s not about bravery, Kraut. If we could live to fight another day, we would. But for us here, we have no choice. This might very well be our end. We won’t surrender. No telling what they would do to us anyway.”

“But I can’t just leave you like this!”

“Listen!” Gabčík shouted. “I don’t know what you exactly are, but I know this is not your mission. This was only a part of it. Our mission was to kill Heydrich. It’s done. And now we face the consequences. But your fight isn’t over. You still have a battle to fight, don’t you?”

Gabčík looked straight into Jan’s eyes. They were intense, fully convinced of what he was saying.

“Don’t be stupid, Kraut. You want to end this war, don’t you?”

Jan nodded.

“Then fight the fight and end it. Reach the finish line. Finish your mission. As for us here, we will finish ours.”

Before Jan could even say anything, shots rang out as more German soldiers came into the hallway. Gabčík took cover and shot back.

“Go!” he shouted to Jan.

Jan looked at him, then to Kubiš. Kubiš nodded as well, as he reloaded his gun.

“Go!” Gabčík shouted again.

Jan held up his gun and shot the window, shattering it open. He looked back at them once more and nodded. Then he went to the edge of the hallway and ran towards the window at full speed. He jumped through and in an instant, he was soaring high above the soldiers below. He looked down at where he was going to land and took out his hidden blade.

He landed right on top of a German soldier and dug his blade deep into his neck. The other soldiers didn’t react immediately out of shock, which gave Jan time to stand up and slice the throats of two right on his left and right. And then without looking back he made a run towards the alleyway right in front of him.

The German soldiers chased him through the alleys, shooting at him from behind. But he was quicker, and he went left and right and almost lost them several times. He was aiming for a resistance safe house. After what seemed like an eternity running, and with his breath almost completely out, he finally reached the entrance of the safe house.

But the next moment, he was on his back. His ears were ringing, and his sides hurt like hell. His vision was blurred, and he forgot where he was. A grenade, he thought. But then the German soldiers came and stood above him, aiming their guns at him. At that moment, he remembered where he was. Who he was. He remembered the Czechoslovak soldiers in the church, all of whom were probably dead by now.

And he felt something inside of him. Pure hatred.

And he lashed out. He jumped up. Before the soldiers could react, he had embedded his hidden blades deep in their necks. In front of him were three more soldiers. They raised their weapons and opened fire at him. He tried to dodge them, but he felt some of the shots grazing on his skin. Yet, he felt no pain. He was like a well-oiled machine, like a shaman in a trance. He went to the next one and slit his throat. Turning around, his blades dug deep into the stomach of the next one. The last remaining soldier shot at him, but he pulled his comrade’s body in front of him and used him as a shield. The soldier frantically tried to reload, but Jan was on him. His blade went through the soldier’s mouth, and he could see the tip of it through the soldier’s tongue. His other blade went deep into his neck, and then he pulled both out. The soldier fell back, blood spewing from his neck.

Jan wiped the blades off of his coat. He touched his hurting sides, and when he pulled it up to his eyes, it was dark crimson with his blood.

And then, he lost consciousness.

Chapter Text

Unknown

Shouts. Gunfire. Explosions.

“Go!”

Deaf ears. Blood. Death.

“All of Czechoslovakia is with us.”

Screams. Pain. Suffering.

“The Germans are surrounding the church!”

With a jolt, Jan woke up. He felt like he had been falling endlessly into a deep, dark abyss and that he had in an instant been lifted up from deep down below and back into the light. His throat was dry, and he felt lethargic. But most of all, his muscles ached, and his sides hurt like hell. He put his hand to it, and found cloth drenched in his sweat. He brought his arms into view, and they too had bandages wrapped around them. He brought himself up and took a good look around.

He had no idea where he was. It was a simple room. The upper half of the walls were white, and the bottom half was dark brown wood. The floor was similarly wooden and when Jan brought out his legs – with pain in his muscles – and took a step, they creaked and felt rough to his feet. There was a table next to his simple bed. Besides that, the room was filled with dusty bookshelves and cabinets. There were no decorations, except for a painting of the Virgin Mary hanging on the wall across from Jan’s bed.

A church?

He got up, and the pain in his sides flared up and forced him back down. Taking his breath, he tried it again. This time, he was more successful. He got up and began to limp his way to the door. The pain reminded him of his robe and blades.

When he opened the door, it led to a sunlit hallway that opened to the main hall. There was no one there, but there was no mistaking it: he was in a church. Right to the side of the door was the altar, with all the decorations and tools for Mass. In front of it were the empty pews where the churchgoers would sit and listen to the sermon. Off to the side was a piano, for music during the service. There was no one there, but there were children laughing in the distance outside of the church. He limped his way to the open main doors and found himself in the hot, summer sun.

What he saw before him was a small village in the countryside. There were several children running around the village. Simple white houses with thatched roofs were the only buildings he could see as far as the horizon. Villagers in simple clothing were going about their work – carrying, cutting, cleaning. A door flung open, and two young boys ran outside. A middle-aged woman in a dark green dress and an apron appeared in the doorway, shouting something after the children. The boys shouted back something before disappearing behind some houses.

Next, Jan turned his attention to the building he had just come out of. It was a simple wooden church, bereft of any decorations. White walls of wooden boards, while the doorframes and the windowsills were painted in dark green. It showed signs of age too, with some damage on some parts of the wall. It had a simple tower at the start of the roof, and Jan could just see the bell within that would call the villagers to Mass on Sundays.

On the side, there was a small garden filled with growing vegetables – potatoes, carrots, tomatoes. Hard at work in between the plants was a priest, clad in his black robes with a light brown hat to ward off the hot sun. He had gloves and thick boots on and was watering a tomato plant. Jan limped towards him. When he was at the edge of the garden, he tried saying something in his best Czech pronunciation.

“Excuse me,” he said.

The priest looked up from the plant and looked at him, slightly surprised.

“So, you’re awake,” he said, in the most native-sounding German accent Jan could ever have imagined.

“Yes,” Jan replied, in German this time. “How long was I out?”

“Several weeks,” he said, turning his attention back to the plants. “You had me worried there. You woke up only intermittently. You barely ate, barely drank. Didn’t think you’d pull through for a moment.”

“I don’t remember anything…”

“Well, that’s not surprising. Considering what you’ve been through.”

The priest raised the watering can and stopped the shower of water falling onto the tomato plant. He walked to the edge of the garden where Jan was standing and put it down. Then he grabbed Jan’s arm and led him back into the church.

“Come now, I need to make sure you’re okay. Let’s get you checked up.”

They went back inside the room, and the priest made Jan lie on the bed again.

“Are you a doctor?” Jan asked.

“No, not really. There are no doctors in this village. But we know how to get by.”

The priest pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed. He opened some of Jan’s bandages and took a look at the wounds.

“I heard it was quite the fight in Prague.”

“Are you a member of the Resistance?”

“No. I’m just a parish priest. But I do help them from time to time.”

He reapplied the bandages as he spoke.

“They brought you here maybe two weeks ago. You were in quite bad shape. Unconscious for most of the time. When you did wake up, you were delirious. Rambling about this and that, didn’t make a drop of sense. It took all I had just to try to get some food and drink into you.”

“I don’t remember any of that…”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Seems like you’ve woken up completely this time.”

The priest stood up and went to a table in front of the wall to Jan’s right. He took a jug and poured some water into a cup. Jan looked around the room.

“Trying to find your things?”

“Yeah.”

“I took the liberty of cleaning your clothes. I hope you don’t mind. They were, after all, drenched in blood.”

He offered Jan the cup, which he took as he nodded his head in thanks. The priest went back to the table, his back to Jan.

“And your hidden blades.”

Jan was bringing the cup to his lips when he heard it mentioned, and his hand stopped moving.

“Don’t worry,” the priest said. “They are well hidden. Quite the distinctive weapon. Blades, in this day and age.”

“Yes,” Jan said warily.

“Where’d you get them?”

Jan did not answer.

“I see the Brotherhood’s craftsmanship has not decreased in quality.”

Jan’s mouth went agape. His head looked around, trying to find some weapon he could use to defend himself.

“How did you know…?”

“Oh, I know a lot.”

“How?”

“That’s a long story.”

The priest took something out of drawers next to the table. A dusty wooden box. He patted it and blew on it to clear the dust, and brought it to Jan.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Cautiously, Jan took the box from him. It was an old nondescript wooden box, quite heavy in Jan’s hands. There was only a simple, golden-coloured latch that held it closed. He opened the latch and pulled the lid up. Inside was something wrapped up in a cloth. He looked at the priest, who nodded in reply. He pulled open the cloth to reveal what was inside.

And what he found was a pair of hidden blades. Similar to his, but older in make. But the symbol of the Assassins was still prominently displayed on the gauntlet.

He looked up at the priest in surprise.

In reply, the priest only said four words.

“I was an Assassin.”

Chapter Text

Menec, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – 28 July 1942

It had been more than a month since Jan came to this village, the name of which was Menec as he learned not long after he woke up. It was a sleepy little village not too far from Prague, which is how the Resistance had been able to take him there in a hearse supposedly for a funeral. Jan’s injuries had been more severe than he had thought, and he was forced to spend time recuperating in the village.

Some days he would help Karel, who was the only mechanic in the village. He was the one responsible for keeping the few cars and tractors the village had up and running. They were constantly running into problems, and thus the broad-shouldered grease-covered man had his hands full. Jan wasn’t much of a mechanic, but he knew more about machines than everyone else in the village except for Karel so he would go with him to help. He would also help Ondřej, the local postman, make his deliveries. He would also help tend to the crops, specifically for Old Man František as his age had made it difficult for him to keep up with farming.

Everyone called him Jaroslav, though Jan guessed that everyone knew he wasn’t Czech, not the least bit because his Czech was bad and heavily accented. But everyone seemed to respect the priest – whose name Jan learned was Father Denis – so they went along with “Jaroslav”. Nobody asked questions, and in fact people sort of respected him. He’d received countless gifts of food and verbal thanks for fighting against the Nazi invaders.

Not only Old Man František, but Jan also helped at the small garden of the church. Father Denis was about sixty years old and needed some help as well. He would help water the plants, weed them, and harvest some of the fruits. With the gifts from the villagers, they would be their meals: fresh produce with bread usually. It was during one of these sessions in the garden that Jan spoke with Father Denis.

“So, what’s your story, Father?” Jan asked in German. “Are you German?”

“I guess there’s no fooling anyone with my accent,” he said as he wiped the sweat off his brow. “As a matter of fact, I am indeed German.”

“You were part of the German Brotherhood?”

“I was indeed.”

“When was that?”

“Oh, so long ago. During the Great War, it was.”

“How did you end up as a Catholic priest in some random Czech village?”

Father Denis didn’t answer that question and only handed Jan a basket.

“Pick the tomatoes for me, will you?”

The conversation ended there as Jan began picking the tomatoes. After they had dinner, Jan went to the same room where he had first woken up and had now become his temporary room. Jan went to bed and tried to sleep but found that he couldn’t despite closing his eyes. He heard the door creak open and instinctively he sat up and went into battle mode, but carrying a small light was Father Denis at the doorway.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked.

Jan shook his head, and Father Denis came in. He pulled up a chair and placed the lamp on the bedside table. It was then that Jan saw he was carrying a bottle and two mugs.

“Would you like some beer?” he asked, offering one of the mugs.

“Are priests allowed to drink?”

“As long as we don’t get dead drunk.”

With that, Jan accepted the mug. Father Denis poured some beer from the bottle into Jan’s mug. They clinked their mugs and chugged down the beer.

“Can’t sleep?” Father Denis asked as he wiped his mouth. He was wearing white bedclothes, different from the black robes he usually wore.

Jan shook his head.

“Me neither.”

Afterwards, they were silent for some time, drinking only their beer and deep within their own thoughts. But the curiosity was gnawing at Jan. He wanted to know more about this ex-Assassin-turned-priest in front of him. His story.

“Father, can I ask you something?”

“You want to know.”

Jan nodded.

“Well, I suppose I can tell you. It was a long time ago, however. Like I told you, I was in the German Brotherhood during the Great War. Even then, the Templars had a hand in everything like they do today I presume. We were trying to make sure we could achieve peace, whereas the Templars wanted war. They wanted to destroy the world, and from its ashes create a new one.”

Jan listened attentively, not even nodding or making any movements. But his intense eyes showed his interest clear enough.

“I served on the front lines. Played my part as a soldier in the Imperial Army. But I had my own mission. I took out several officers, sometimes went ‘missing’ for several nights before ‘limping’ back to my comrades. It was thankless, tiring work. But in the end, I’d say the Assassins prevailed on this one. Peace was achieved, and the Templars lost their grip on power.”

Father Denis stopped his story there. He took a drink from his mug, and when he finished Jan was expecting him to continue the story, but there was none.

“Wait, that’s it?”

“What?”

“That can’t be it. What happened that ended up with you leaving the Order?”

“Do you know how long the war between the Brotherhood and the Templars have gone on for, Jan?” Father Denis asked him as he put his mug on the bedside table.

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly. Nobody does. This war has been going on for most, if not all, of history. It’s never-ending. We scheme and kill each other. And sometimes innocents get caught in the crossfire. So many have died. And what for?”

“For freedom,” Jan answered resolutely.

“At what cost?”

Jan hesitated. But he knew the proper answer. “At any cost.”

“And that’s where the problem lies.”

“But if the Brotherhood didn’t stand in the way of the Templars, then the Templars would gain control of the world, and isn’t that worse?”

“Is it really? Before the rise of Hitler, right after the Great War, the Assassins were at the peak of their power. We had managed to destroy the power of the Templars through the war, and at its end the German Brotherhood stood above the corpse of the Templars in Germany. There were only a few stragglers left, disorganised and on the run. We had won.”

Jan kept his eyes fixed on Father Denis, who had gone silent.

“But turns out we were no better than the Templars. Once we were in power, we ran things from behind. The Council became the new puppeteers. They pulled the strings and basically tried to rule Germany from the shadows. Not just that, they fought amongst themselves. Members of the Council turned on one another, recruiting other Assassins to their own cliques and factions. Including me.

“I attached myself to one particular member of the Council. I thought and believed that he had the best interests of the Brotherhood and of the people of Germany in his heart, and that what he said about the other Councilors’ corruption was nothing but the truth. I killed at his behest. Whoever he pointed his finger at, I killed. Templar, Assassin, neither. Because I believed in the cause. I believed in what I was doing. I soaked my blades in crimson. I felt as if there was a permanent red sheen to it due to the sheer number of people I killed.

“But I soon learnt the truth. I was nothing more than a pawn in their game. In the end, he became the most powerful member of the Council, and all the other members were his supporters. He held absolute power and controlled the politics and economy of Germany as well. I was ecstatic, of course. We had won, I thought. We did. We really did. But what happened then?

“I thought he would bring peace and prosperity. Work his hardest to make our vision of freedom for the people a reality. But I didn’t see any of that. It didn’t matter if the politicians we kept in power were corrupt or not so long as they were loyal to him. He became very wealthy and enjoyed a life of luxury. We stopped hunting the Templars. The Assassins became nothing more than his personal army, taking out whoever dared stand in his way.”

Jan could not believe what he was hearing. This was probably only twenty years ago, and yet he had never heard of this. All his life, all he heard about was how the Templars were powerful and the Assassins were constantly on the run, forced to defend themselves rather than attack. To think that something like this happened… His father must’ve been a young Assassin during this time, he thought.

“Then what happened?” he asked.

“Not all the Assassins had been corrupted. They saw the error of the ways of the German Brotherhood and resolved to end it. One day, they did just that. They assassinated the leader, my mentor for so long.”

“And so, the Assassins were restored to their true purpose.”

“If only that were the case. With him gone, a civil war erupted in the Brotherhood. The group that had killed him wanted to restore the Brotherhood of old. Some wanted to take over his role and become the new ruler of the Brotherhood and of Germany in extension. Once again, the Brotherhood was plunged into conflict. Brother killed brother; sister killed sister. It was more accurate to say that several Brotherhoods existed during that period.”

“I guess the true Assassins won in the end.”

“I suppose so, if you’re here. I wasn’t there when they did. I had left the Order. But one thing was clear. Most of the Assassins were unaware, but a few of us were. During the time we were busy with our own issues, the Templars grew strong once again. And while we were busy killing each other, they had somehow once again become more powerful than the Assassins.”

“Where were you during all this? Your corrupt mentor was murdered, but what about you? Did they try to kill you too?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t. I killed my mentor after all.”

“Then you were one of the Assassins who weren’t corrupted!”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did the bidding of one who was for quite a long time.”

“Then what happened to you?”

Father Denis sighed.

“I grew disillusioned with it all. The Assassins, the Templars. They were all the same. And I got to thinking. A lot of thinking. About the Creed, about what we stood for. The Creed is logically paradoxical. It makes no sense. It’s full of inconsistencies. What is the creed, Jan?”

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.”

“Let’s start with that. If nothing is true, then how is that statement true?”

“Nothing is true except the fact that nothing is true.”

“That’s a logical fallacy, don’t you think? Why is it so convenient that everything else is not true except the statement that nothing is true? If nothing is true, then that statement shouldn’t be true right?”

Jan was speechless. He had never thought about it that deeply.

“Generations of Assassins have encountered the so-called Three Ironies. Even Altair himself did. Do you know what these ironies are?”

Jan shook his head.

“The Assassins seek to promote peace but commit murder. The Assassins seek to open the minds of men but require obedience to rules. The Assassins seek to reveal the danger of blind faith yet practice it themselves. Altair’s response to this was that one could be two things at once, opposite in every way. But use your head, Jan. Think. How does that make sense? That and what I saw shattered any faith I had in the Brotherhood.”

“But there were others who weren’t corrupt. You weren’t alone.”

“Yes, and how few we were. And like I said, the Brotherhood fell into infighting once my mentor was dead. For a while, I fought on. With my brothers and sisters. We tried to restore the Brotherhood to its past self. But eventually, I got tired. Tired of the pointlessness. Tired of the schemes. Tired of the bloodshed.

“I ran. I didn’t have a specific destination in mind. I just ran. From the Brotherhood, from Germany, from my home. Eventually, I made my way to Czechoslovakia. It was here that I reconnected with my faith. I was born a Catholic. Baptised when I was a baby. When I was an Assassin, I wasn’t a churchgoing man. Can’t really say I was an atheist, just that I didn’t care about any of it. I found refuge in a church here. You could say God called me there. He called me back to his flock. He showed me the truth, the real truth that was Him. I took a new name here. The name you know me by is not my real name. I learnt the local language, entered the seminary, and joined the priesthood. And that’s how I got here.

“And I don’t regret it one bit. Life is peaceful and simple here. I feel at peace with God, I serve the parish. Help the locals. Make real changes in the lives of these folk.”

Father Denis smiled at him. Since the beer was out now, he took Jan’s mug and stood up, with beer bottle and mugs in hand. Before leaving, he said some words to Jan.

“Take it from someone who’s been where you are. Leave while you can.”

Left to his own thoughts alone in the dark, Jan for a while remained seated. Eventually, he lay down and tried to go to sleep again. But with everything Father Denis just told him, he had an even harder time falling asleep. His words were floating around in Jan’s head. He could barely sleep.

***

A few days later, Jan was feeling much better. He felt almost new. He took off the bandages and put on his clothes. The village women had washed them for him, and he made sure to thank them when he received them. Jan put the used bandages on the bedside table for Father Denis to take care of later. He put on his robe and took one last look at the room that he had stayed in for the past few weeks. It was time to leave and return to the real world, to the fight that he had to fight.

Jan went out of the room and into the hall. It was early in the morning, around 6 o’clock. It was a Sunday, so Father Denis was preparing the things used for Mass. He was going to preach today. Jan had listened to his sermons during the past few weeks. He didn’t understand the Czech sermons, but it seemed to him that the local villagers held Father Denis in great esteem and listened carefully to his preaching. He went up to the altar.

“Father.”

Father Denis turned around, surprised to see him in his regular clothes.

“Are you going?”

Jan nodded.

“I’ve recovered. It’s time I get back to where I should be.”

“Ah,” Father Denis said as he walked towards Jan. “I suppose I can’t get you to stay? The villagers like you. Maybe you could leave behind your life of blood and death and settle down here.”

“I’ll leave the village to you, Father. As for me, this isn’t where I should be.”

Father Denis sighed and nodded.

“Well, my boy. May God bless you out there. May He keep you safe as it is a dangerous path you’re treading.”

“Thank you, Father. For everything. Really.”

Jan shook his hand and turned around. As he began to walk, Father Denis’ words floated in his mind. Was what he was doing wrong? Were the Assassins wrong? Was it truly pointless? Jan had given these questions much thought in the last few days. While his mind was occupied, his heart knew the answer.

“One more thing, Father,” Jan said as he turned around.

Father Denis, who had turned around to return to the preparations for Mass, now turned back to him.

“It’s not pointless. If the Assassins didn’t fight, then the Templars would win. And the world as we know it would come to an end. And I can’t let that happen.”

With those words, Jan turned back and headed for the exit of the church. Father Denis’ words were the jaded words of a coward. No, he was more than that. He was a traitor. He left the Brotherhood, abandoned the oaths he had sworn. Abandoned his brothers and sisters just because he couldn’t stomach the fight.

Jan turned around. Father Denis had his back turned to him, busying himself with preparing for the Mass. Jan silently walked back towards the altar, not making even a single noise. And as he got closer, he engaged his hidden blades.

No one leaves the Order.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 8 August 1942

“Still no word of Jan?” Lutz asked as he stood over his desk in his dimly lit room.

“No, I’m afraid,” replied Elisabeth, looking down.

“Well, we can only hope for the best. We have a war to fight, and Jan would want us to continue.”

“That’s exactly what I’d want,” Jan said as he stood in the doorway.

Lutz, Elisabeth, and Kevin all turned towards him with faces filled with a mixture of surprise and relief.

“Jan!” Elisabeth half-shouted as she went to him and hugged him.

Jan hugged her back, and for a moment they stood there as Lutz and Kevin watched silently. Suddenly, Elisabeth pulled back and refused to meet his eyes.

“I-I’m glad you’re back,” she said.

“Glad to be back.”

“Jan, you sure kept us waiting. Where have you been?” Lutz asked.

“The Czechoslovak Resistance brought me to a village outside of Prague, where they took care of me until I recovered from my wounds.”

Jan patted Kevin on the back, who smiled at him, and nodded to Lutz.

“What can I do?” Jan asked.

“Hold on. You want to start immediately? I think we can all agree that we could let you rest for a few days, see your mother.”

“I’ve been to her. It’s fine, I can immediately start.”

“Well, if you’re confident…”

“I am.”

“Then let us get you up to speed.”

Lutz went behind his desk and opened a drawer. From it, he pulled out a nondescript wooden box and placed it on the desk. Carefully, he opened it and took out what was inside and showed it to Jan.

What came out was a circular object with a diameter the size of two fingers. It had a hole in the middle, and the cracked boundary of the circle was gold inscribed with geometric patterns of rhombi. Surrounding the hole were symbols inscribed on green-coloured glass.

 “Elisabeth and Kevin managed to intercept it along with the map to the weapons’ vault on their way to Germany.”

“What is it?”

“I’m afraid we don’t know.”

“This symbol, I’ve seen it before,” Jan said. “It’s the symbol in the book we brought back from Poland.”

“Yes, indeed. And we have identified the symbol. It is the symbol of Jupiter.”

“Jupiter?”

“Yes. The planet, the Roman god.”

“What does it mean?”

“That we’re not sure of yet. Unfortunately, we’ve been quite lost on how to proceed.”

Lutz put back the object into the box and returned the box to the drawer, before turning his attention back to the three Assassins standing in his room.

“But we have a map.”

“Yes, indeed. But we have no idea how to read it.”

Lutz opened another drawer and took out a parchment that looked straight out of a medieval abbey. It was rough around the edges and was nearly completely brown. Lutz opened the map and laid it out on the desk, clearing away the books and documents. What lay before Jan and the Assassins was a mysterious mixture of geometric symbols and lines along with what seemed to be words in some foreign language, written in a writing system unknown to Jan.

“I don’t understand,” Jan said as he scanned the map.

“Nobody does, I’m afraid. We have that circular object, and we have the map. But we don’t know how to read it.”

“Do we have any leads?”

“The three of us have been discussing it,” Lutz said as he looked to Elisabeth and Kevin. “Through certain informants and aggressive interrogations–”

“Aggressive interrogations?”

“We took in some Templars, beat them up until they said something,” Elisabeth explained, as if it were an everyday thing.

“Yes, as I was saying, we got a name: Florentin Neuner. According to our information, Neuner is an expert on all things mysterious and unknown, specifically what the Templars were digging in Poland and Czechoslovakia.”

“So, we’re going after him.”

“Yes, indeed.”

“Do we have a plan?”

“We’re in the process of making one. I was just about to send Elisabeth and Kevin out to do some scouting and information gathering.”

“I’ll go too.”

“Are you sure you don’t need some time to rest and recuperate? I don’t want to force you to jump straight into things immediately.”

“I’m fine. With all that time to recuperate, I’ve been itching to do something useful for a change.”

“Very well. Good luck to you.”

Jan, Elisabeth, and Kevin nodded. Then they made their way towards the door. As soon as Elisabeth and Kevin had left and Jan was just about to cross the doorway, Lutz called after him.

“Jan, a moment.”

Jan shouted after Elisabeth and Kevin.

“I’ll catch up.”

“Close the door behind you.”

Jan did as he was told and walked back towards Lutz’s desk.

“We received news while you were gone.”

“News?”

“I want you to prepare yourself.”

Jan felt like something had got stuck in his throat. He racked his brains trying to figure out what sort of bad news was going to come at him, but he couldn’t really imagine anything bad. Mother was fine, after all.

“It’s about your brother. He’s gone.”

Lutz handed him an opened letter. Jan’s heart sank. He hadn’t seen his brother in years, and now suddenly he’s gone?

“Word reached us from the Brotherhood in Italy. Well, what was left of it. Your brother was killed on a mission. It was going well, but an explosion occurred in the room he was in. He and two other Assassins were killed instantly.”

With shaking hands, Jan hesitantly took the letter. He didn’t want to open it. He felt that if he did, it would become real. But right now, they were just words Lutz was telling him.

“I’m sorry, Jan.”

Jan opened the letter. He read every word, and once he was done, he read the entire thing again. And when that was done, he did it once more.

“Have you told my mother?” was all Jan could muster.

“No. We weren’t sure you were still alive. We didn’t want to tell her that both her sons were dead, so we waited. And we thought it would be better if she heard from you instead of from us.”

Jan heard the words, but he wasn’t listening. And his eyes were fixed on the letter, but it was all a blur to him. Lutz put his hand on his shoulder and patted him.

“If you need some time…”

“No,” Jan responded resolutely. “I’ll go.”

He turned around and went for the door. Without another word, he went out and went after Elisabeth and Kevin. He could barely hold the tears from flowing. His own brother, whom he had so many fond memories of growing up together was now gone. And he can’t even bury him. First, his father. And now, his brother. Now all he had was mother.

He steeled himself.

He won’t let this get to him.

No, he won’t. He’ll use it to fuel him.

He put the letter in his coat and walked down the halls with the expression of a man who knew what he needed to do.

Chapter Text

Berlin, Germany – 31 August 1942

The sun had gone under the horizon, and the street was painted with a warm, fading orange light. It was lined on either side by apartment blocks and was nearly empty. There was only the sound of one particular car as it turned at an intersection onto the street and promptly parked in front of a brown apartment building.

The car, a black Mercedes-Benz Typ 320, was like any other regular car. No one would’ve batted an eye were it not for the passengers who exited it. Coming out of the front doors were two men in long, black coats that covered their entire body from shoulder to their knees. They wore fedora hats, and the two of them looked identical.

But to the Assassins watching from the rooftop of the building across, the main star of the show was the passenger in the back. After the two men in the front passenger seats had exited the car, he followed suit. A short, decently fat bespectacled man with a brown coat came out. He held in one hand his fedora hat and in the other a briefcase.

“Well, gentlemen, I bid you goodnight,” he said as he walked towards the door to the apartment building.

“Wait,” said one of the men. “Sorry, but I’ll be accompanying you up.”

“What? Whatever for?”

“Those are my orders. Got to keep you safe and under guard at all times.”

“Isn’t waiting down here enough?”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me, but we were told you keep you under guard at all times.”

“Do you mean to say that you’ll be going into my apartment?”

“For a guy who knows a lot, you sure catch on slowly.”

“I really don’t need you barging in on my apartment.”

“Never said it was a choice.”

The short man sighed. Then, with annoyance clearly plastered on his face, turned around and walked inside.

“If you must.”

One of the two guards followed him inside, while the other leaned against the car, facing the apartment door, and took out a cigarette, lit it, and started smoking.

Jan turned to Elisabeth and Kevin, and they all nodded at each other. Without a word, all three slid down the other side of the rooftop and made their way down the back of the building into an alleyway. They parted ways, with Elisabeth going deeper into the alley while Jan and Kevin made their way towards the main road and stood on the pavement, on the opposite side of the road from the car. They hid in the shadows of the alley.

Then Elisabeth appeared, turning around the intersection to the right of the car. The guard turned to look at her, and that was their cue. Jan and Kevin crossed the road quickly and with light steps. The guard didn’t realise that they were crouching in front of the car. His eyes were fixed on Elisabeth, who was putting on her most graceful and elegant walk. As she passed in front of him, he whistled.

“Hey, little lady,” he said, smiling to himself with the cigarette in his mouth. “Where you goin’?”

Elisabeth ignored him as she kept walking, as if she were going to pass him by.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. How about we have some fun, eh? Just you and me?”

Elisabeth stopped in front of him and turned her head to look at him. Then she smiled. The guard smiled back and opened his mouth to speak. But when he did, he found that he couldn’t as Jan’s blade had entered the side of his throat. He began gurgling as blood flowed out of the wound and from his mouth. His eyes went wide with terror and went from Elisabeth to Jan. Elisabeth stepped closer and brought her face close to his.

“Sure.”

And then she thrust her blade deep into his chest, straight into his heart. His eyes went even wider before his entire body went limp and he fell to the ground.

“That was fun,” she said as she wiped her blade.

Jan and Kevin quickly dragged the body into the apartment block. Inside were mailboxes and at the end of the hallway there were stairs. Right next to the stairs there was a path that led to a dead end, but it was dimly lit as the light was covered by the underside of the stairs that went to the second floor. Jan and Kevin dragged the corpse there.

“We don’t have much time. Let’s do this quick and quiet,” Jan told them.

All three Assassins went up the stairs, with Elisabeth leading at the front. They reached the second floor, but there was no guard. Neither was he on the third floor, but when they reached the fourth floor, they saw the guard standing in front of the doorway.

“And I’m telling you, I have to be inside your apartment,” he was saying.

“And I’m telling you, that I will let you in later. Why can’t I have a little privacy?” they heard the short man say from inside the apartment before he slammed the door in the guard’s face.

“Why, you little…”

The guard then sighed and only then noticed Elisabeth and the others coming up the stairs.

“What you lookin’ a-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Elisabeth was on him, and her blade was in his neck. Kevin held the guard so that he wouldn’t fall, and they gently let the dying man fall onto the floor. Then Jan knocked on the door. Soon, there were steps and muttering behind the door before it opened.

“I thought I told y-“

Jan held the barrel of his handgun on the short man’s temple and then cocked it, turning off the safety.

“Mr. Neuner, I presume?” he said.

“W-w-who are you? What do you want? I don’t have anything valuable on me!”

Jan pushed him inside.

“Drag the body in here, guys,” he told the others.

Elisabeth and Kevin dragged the body inside and closed the door. When Neuner saw the body, he audibly gasped and looked away.

“What do you want? I’ll give you anything! Money, jewelry, just don’t kill me please!”

“We’re not interested in that. We’d like you to come with us.”

“W-w-what for?”

“We’ll be the ones asking the questions here.”

“We should move the other body here,” Elisabeth suggested.

Jan nodded and kept the gun pointed at Neuner’s forehead. Elisabeth and Kevin went out, and soon returned carrying the guard’s corpse between them. They laid him besides the other guard.

“Get the keys,” Jan said to them.

Elisabeth emptied the guards’ pockets and pulled out the car keys.

“Got ‘em.”

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Herr Neuner. We’re going downstairs and taking your car. And you’re coming with us.”

“W-where are you taking me?”

“I said we’re the ones asking questions. Now move it.”

Kevin went out first. Then following Jan’s directions, Neuner too went out with Jan right behind him with the barrel of his gun directly on Neuner’s back. Elisabeth came last, and she closed the door behind them. When they reached the car, Kevin took the driver’s seat while Jan forced Neuner into the back seat, with him sitting right next to him. Elisabeth then entered the front passenger seat. They drove through the quickly darkening city. Midway, Elisabeth threw him a black cloth.

“What’s this for?”

“Blindfold him.”

“What?” was all Neuner could say.

“You’re right.”

With the gun still pointed at him, Jan tied the cloth around Neuner’s head as a blindfold.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Quiet.”

They drove for almost 7 hours until they finally reached Essen. The Brotherhood safehouses in Berlin were all compromised, so they couldn’t do this there. They had to do it in the relative safety of Essen. Kevin parked the car in front of the entrance to the Brotherhood’s headquarters. It was past midnight, and the streets were deserted. As before, Jan kept the barrel of his gun firmly on Neuner’s back as they led him into the underground hallways. They led him to a room with only a chair.

“There’s a chair in front of you. Sit,” Jan said.

 Neuner felt his way to the chair, and once he knew where it was, he sat down. There were clasps on the arms, and Elisabeth locked Neuner’s arms in.

“I’ll get him,” Elisabeth said as she left the room.

Moments later, Lutz came in.

“Good job, everyone. They say plans don’t survive the battle, but it seems this one did.”

Lutz turned his attention to Neuner.

“Florentin Neuner, I presume?”

“Y-y-yes.”

“A pleasure to meet you. I hope you’ll excuse me, but I can’t give my name. It’s very rude of me, but it’s unavoidable. For reasons of security, you understand.”

“What do you want from me? I’ll give you anything please.”

“Oh, we’re not interested in anything you have. We could use your help with something though.”

“W-what?”

“You are employed at the Reich Ministry of Science, Education and Culture, are you not?”

“Y-yes?”

“It’s come to our attention that recently you’ve been working on translating some mysterious, ancient documents. Is this true?”

“I, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Lutz looked to Elisabeth.

“It seems our guest needs some encouragement.”

Elisabeth nodded and delivered a punch directly to Neuner’s cheek. Jan didn’t even realise what was happening until moments after.

“Wait,” Jan said.

Lutz stopped him with his hand.

“Yes! Yes, I’ve been tasked with that…”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” Lutz said as he approached Neuner, who was still blindfolded. “This is what you’re going to do. You’re going to do just that for us.”

“Who are you people?!”

Lutz sighed.

“Again,” he said before Elisabeth once again delivered a blow to Neuner’s face.

“It seems you’re a little confused, Herr Neuner. We ask the questions. You answer them. We ask you to do things. You do them. Is that clear?”

Neuner nodded, blood dripping from his nose, now crooked from Elisabeth’s punch.

“Good. Bring the map and the book.”

Kevin went out, and a few moments later returned with what Lutz had asked for.

“Take off his blindfolds.”

“He’ll see us,” Jan reminded him.

“Let me worry about that,” he said to Jan with a reassuring smile and his hand on Jan’s shoulder.

Elisabeth took off Neuner’s blindfolds.

“We need you to translate this.”

Kevin brought the map and the book closer to Neuner and showed them to him.

“This… you stole this, didn’t you?”

Lutz sighed and looked to Elisabeth. Another punch to Neuner’s face.

“I thought we understood each other, Herr Neuner.”

“I-I can’t translate this,” Neuner said, bruises and blood on his face. “Please.”

Lutz signaled Elisabeth, who delivered two more punches. Neuner was at this point sobbing.

“Please, I beg of you. I can’t do it. They’ll kill me!”

“And you think we won’t?”

Jan stepped forward, concerned. Once again, Lutz stopped him with his hand.

“You will translate this for us, and you will do so quickly.”

“I can’t, I can’t,” said Neuner as he sobbed, tears and blood flowing down his face.

Lutz watched on emotionlessly as Elisabeth delivered punch, after punch, after punch. By the end of it, Neuner’s face was unrecognisable; there was barely a human face covered with bruises and blood.

“Have we come to an understanding now?”

Neuner kept sobbing, but he nodded.

“Elisabeth, Kevin, see to it that he does what has to be done.”

As they nodded, Lutz turned around and headed towards the door.

“What did I do to deserve this…,” muttered Neuner through broken teeth.

Jan felt a tightness in his heart. It was hard watching this small, short, unassuming, defenseless man go through suffering like that. But he knew deep down that he was cut from the same cloth as the ones that murdered his father.

“Then you shouldn’t have joined up with the Templars,” Jan spat.

Neuner turned his attention towards him. Jan met those bloodied, bruised eyes. His eyes were those of a pure, innocent child.

“What Templars?” he asked.

Jan’s head went blank, and he could feel the blood draining from his head and his heart racing. He’s not in this war. Jan turned around and went after Lutz outside the room.

“Lutz! Wait!”

“What is it, Jan?”

“We made a mistake. He’s not a Templar.”

“So?”

Jan was taken aback.

“So, we should let him go.”

“We need him.”

“Well, we don’t have to be so heavy-handed if he’s not a Templar.”

“Jan, my friend,” Lutz said as he put his hands around his shoulder. “Whether he’s a Templar or not isn’t any of our concern. He is helping them, and we need what he knows.”

“But is the violence really necessary?”

“It is. We need to show him we mean business. More than that, you heard it yourself. He knows what he knows is of great importance, that’s why he’s so afraid to give it to us. We need to make him fear us more than he fears them.”

Jan looked down, his heart torn between Lutz’s words and the fact that a potentially innocent man had received such a violent interrogation.

“If you’re not comfortable with it,” Lutz said, “You can sit this one out. Besides, so long as he cooperates with us, we won’t need to do anything more to him.”

“And when it’s done, we’ll release him?”

“In due time,” he said. “We can’t risk him going back to help the Templars. We’ll keep him here in the meantime. Don’t worry, he won’t suffer in his imprisonment. We’ll feed him, give him some books to read maybe.”

Lutz patted him on the back.

“This is war, Jan. War against the Templars and everything they stand for. Sometimes, you have to make hard choices. As an Assassin, you must learn to face that reality. But don’t worry, I’ll be here to guide you as always.”

“Thank you, Lutz. I understand.”

“Good, good. Then I have some matters to attend to.”

Lutz gave him one last smile and disappeared into the labyrinthine corridors of the Assassin headquarters, leaving Jan alone in the dimly lit halls with his thoughts.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 7 October 1942

Jan knocked on the open door to Lutz’s study. He was alone inside and standing above his desk looking at a map of Europe with only the flame of the fireplace as his light. At Jan’s knock, he looked up and smiled.

“Come in,” he said.

Jan, Elisabeth, and Kevin entered the study and fanned out in front of the desk. With his attention still on the map, Lutz began speaking.

“The Nazi onslaught seems to have no end. There seems to be no obstacle to their advance. The battle of Stalingrad continues in its brutality. The British have been bombing German cities. This farce of a war created by the Templars seems to have no end in sight.”

Lutz took one last look before his eyes went to the three Assassins that were now standing before him.

“So, what brings you here? Is Neuner cooperating?”

“Yes,” Elisabeth said. “More than cooperating, he’s giving it his all.”

“I’m glad he understands the situation.”

“But he says he’s hit a wall.”

“Oh?”

“He says he needs his documents in his office in Berlin,” Jan continued. “Otherwise, he can’t continue.”

“I see…”

Lutz stepped out from behind the desk with his hand rubbing his chin, pondering their words. Stopping in front of the desk, he half-sat on it and looked up to them.

“Then you best go.”

“What about Neuner?” Jan asked.

“I’ll have someone else look after him. Not that he can go anywhere. Get those documents in Berlin and come back immediately.”

The three Assassins nodded.

“You can go now.”

Silently, they went out of the room and began their preparations for the long drive to Berlin. When that was done, they gathered and made their way out of the base and back to the streets of Essen. It was late at night, and few people were on the street to see them get into the green car that was once Neuner’s car. They had had it repainted and the license plate changed so that it could be put to good use with the Assassins. Once again, Kevin took the driver’s seat. But this time, Jan sat in the front while Elisabeth took the back seat.

After a long night of driving, they arrived in Berlin on the morning of the 8^th of October, the next day. They immediately made their way to the Reich Ministry of Science, Education and Culture which they had raided before. They parked the car a distance away from the ministry in an alley off the main road. Then, checking that nobody was watching, they climbed up the stairs of the building on the alley all the way up to the roofs, where they had a good view of the ministry building.

“Looks like they increased security since the last time we came here,” Elisabeth observed.

There were two soldiers posted at each door. Groups of three soldiers constantly patrolled the area, making sure that there were at least two groups of soldiers always patrolling one side of the building. A truck to carry soldiers was parked on the side of the road, guarded by another group of three soldiers.

“Getting in won’t be easy.”

Kevin tapped Jan’s shoulder and pointed at the roof. Three soldiers just came out of a door and were now patrolling the roofs. Elisabeth, Jan, and Kevin slid back and hid behind the low wall of the roof of the building they were on.

“I guess they learnt their lesson from last time,” Jan said. “The only way I see us getting in is with disguises again.”

“But how are we going to get disguises?”

Jan thought for a while.

“Then our option really is only the roof, huh?” Jan concluded.

“But they’re guarding it.”

“Which is why we need to move quick and silent. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

A few moments later they were back on street-level and were walking from the alley. Exiting it, they turned right heading towards the ministry building. They crossed the road and arrived in front of it. They passed the patrolling soldiers, the guards at the door, and the truck stationed in front of the building. Then, a few buildings after the ministry they went into an alleyway on the left and started climbing up the side of the wall. They reached the roof and hid behind a chimney.

“Alright, remember: no guns,” Jan cautioned them. “Blades only.”

There were a few buildings between them and the ministry. Jan leaned out and saw that one of the guards was looking in their direction. Jan quickly pulled back, and when he leaned out again the guard had turned around and was walking towards the opposite side.

“Now!”

Quickly and silently, all three Assassins ran and jumped across the roofs until they reached the ministry building’s rooftop. They hid themselves behind the small building that housed the stairs leading inside. Jan leaned out again.

“I see one on the northwest corner, looking out onto the street.”

Elisabeth leaned out the other side.

“One on the southwest corner, also looking to the street.”

“Where’s the other one…?”

“Can’t see him.”

“Hmm… I’m guessing he’s leaning against this small building.”

“How can you know?”

Jan looked at her in the eyes and smiled mischievously.

“Just a feeling.”

“I can’t believe we’re leaving all this to a feeling you have.”

“Alright. I’ll take the guard that’s maybe leaning against the building. Elisabeth, southwest. Kevin, northeast.”

They nodded.

“On my count. 1, 2, 3… Go.”

Like clockwork, the Assassins came out from behind the building and emerged onto the rooftop. Jan hugged the wall and once he reached the corner, he engaged his hidden blade and came out. Just like he predicted, a guard was leaning against the wall smoking. He saw Jan, but Jan quickly dug his blade deep into his throat. He bit the cigarette he was smoking in two and soon he went limp. Jan looked up and saw Elisabeth had taken out her mark as well. She had snapped his neck and was pulling him away from the sides. Kevin was still on his way, and soon he reached the guard and snapped his neck the same way Elisabeth had done. Afterwards, they all gathered near the door. Jan was stripping the dead soldier of his clothes.

“Alright, I’ll go in alone,” declared Jan.

“You are not going in alone,” said Elisabeth.

“There’re only male uniforms here, and you don’t exactly look like one of the secretaries that work here with that getup. And Kevin won’t be able to answer if anyone asks him anything, and you know how the Nazis treat people with disabilities.”

Jan turned his head to Kevin and nodded his head. “No offence.”

Kevin waved it off.

“This is the only way. I put on his uniform and get in, get the documents, get out.”

“Alright, then what should we do?”

“Keep your eyes peeled up here. Hopefully, things don’t turn out the way it usually does with us being chased by soldiers. But if it does, I’ll need your help.”

Elisabeth reluctantly nodded. Jan started taking off his clothes.

“Uh, do you mind?”

Elisabeth quickly turned around. Jan put on the soldier’s clothes and picked up his weapon, carrying it behind him.

“Alright. I’ll be back here.”

Jan opened the door and went straight down the stairs. At the bottom, there was another door which he went through that led to the hallways. There were many bureaucrats, clerks, and secretaries moving about the hallway. Jan came out at the corner and now there lay before him a path forward and a path to the right. Neuner had given them a clear idea of the layout of the building, but Jan needed to get his bearings somehow. He just started walking to the right.

I’m on the top floor, which is the fourth floor. Neuner’s office is on the third floor.

He walked through the floor like he owned the place, confidently turning left and right until he found stairs at the centre of the building. He went down and reached the third floor. Starting from the stairs, he followed Neuner’s instructions.

Turn left. Turn right. Keep going. Turn left at the intersection. Second office on the right.

But when he turned left at the intersection, there was no need to count. Two guards were standing right in front of the door. Jan stepped back from the intersection and leaned against the wall. This hallway wasn’t as full as before, but there were still a lot of people. Normally, he’d take both out and quickly pull their corpses into the room. But there might be someone in the room…

Jan went out of hiding and walked towards them. When he was in front of them, he did the Nazi salute and raised his hand. They raised their hands back. Jan got a quick look of the inside from the window of the door, and it seemed empty. He kept walking past them and at the corner turned left. He circled around and reached the intersection again. He stood there for a while, pretending to be on guard as he waited for the hallway to become empty, but after waiting for quite some time he realised that that wasn’t going to work. An idea popped into his head. He got out of cover and went straight to the guards. He stopped in front of them.

“Heil Hitler!” he shouted in greeting.

The two guards seemed surprised but returned his greeting.

“I’m here to take your place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just arrived. My commander told me that I’m to take your place to guard this office.”

“What? We never heard of any such orders.”

“I don’t know. I’m just following them, that’s all.”

“Well, you can go back and tell your commander that we never received such orders and until we receive such an order we’re not moving.”

“Sorry, I received my orders, and they were to come here to guard this office.”

The guard on the right seemed annoyed at Jan’s words. He sighed.

“I’ll find the sergeant and ask him what this is all about.”

“Sure.”

The guard on the right left, leaving Jan with the other guard. Jan promptly took his place.

“What are we guarding anyway?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Aren’t you a little bit curious?”

“No and shut up.”

“I’m really curious though…”

With that, Jan swiftly turned around and opened the door.

“What are you doing?!” shouted the guard.

Jan “fell” into the room by accident.

“Sorry, I can’t get up.”

The guard sighed.

“I don’t get paid enough for this.”

When the guard went half into the room and bent down to help him, Jan moved quickly and stabbed him in the neck. His eyes went wide, and he gurgled, struggling to get a sound out but failing to. Jan pulled him in and kicked the door to close it. As the life went out of him, Jan took out his blade and wiped it on the soldier’s clothes. He can’t turn on the light for fear of the guard coming back and thinking somebody had gone into the office, so Jan had to do this in the dark.

It was a regular office with a desk and chair in the middle. Behind it were several wooden cabinets of drawers. Neuner had told them exactly which cabinet and which drawer they had to look into. Cabinet on the right, second drawer from the top, third from the right. Jan immediately went to it and opened the drawer. There were several folders, each with papers in them. Jan took them all and quickly went out of the office. Just as he closed the door, he heard someone shout.

“Hey, you! What do you think you’re doing!”

“Shit,” Jan cursed as he ran the other way.

“Stop!” the soldier shouted as a shot rang in the air.

It missed Jan and hit the window of a room at the end of the hallway. At the corner, Jan ran left and kept running. The soldier followed behind him, shouting for help. More soldiers appeared, but none in his way. Jan ran up the stairs and back to the stairs to the roof. When he got to the roof, he didn’t stop running. Elisabeth and Kevin looked at him in surprise.

“Soldiers coming!”

They immediately jumped across to the building next to them, back the way they came. They heard the door open, and several soldiers shouting behind them. And then the shots came.

“Take cover!” Jan shouted.

They hid behind a chimney and opened fire with their handguns back at the soldiers. For a few moments, they exchanged fire on the rooftops of Berlin.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Elisabeth said. “We need to disappear.”

Jan handed the documents to Elisabeth, who put them in her bag.

“I’ll draw their fire, so you two go down. On my mark. 3… 2… 1…”

Jan leaned out and started shooting wildly, vaguely in the direction of the soldiers. They took cover behind the low walls of the roof of the building they were on, while Elisabeth and Kevin ran for the edge and started climbing down. When Jan’s magazine went empty, he quickly turned around and ran for the edge as well, following Elisabeth and Kevin as shots rang out around him. They reached street level and made a run for the street.

“There they are!” they heard a soldier shout out from the right.

Elisabeth and Kevin opened fire as the Assassins began running in the opposite direction. The soldiers seemed reluctant to shoot back as civilians were all over the pavement. In front, Jan saw a man opening his door to get into a car. He went straight to the drivers’ seat and shoved him aside.

“Sorry,” he apologised as he went in.

“Get in!” he shouted at Elisabeth and Kevin.

They quickly got in, and it was at that point that the soldiers began to shoot. Elisabeth and Kevin ducked as bullets whizzed through, breaking the glass. Jan stepped on the gas and the car started moving. Elisabeth leaned out of the window of the passenger seat and shot back. Soon, the shots stopped coming.

“Did we lose them?” Jan asked.

“You jinxed it! Cars incoming!” Elisabeth shouted back.

Jan looked in the rear-view mirror and saw two cars chasing them. From the passenger side windows, soldiers leaned out and started shooting their handguns towards them.

“Shoot back!”

“We’re trying!”

Both Elisabeth and Kevin shot back. The streets of Berlin were now a battlefield as three speeding cars shot at each other under the noon sky. They reached a T-intersection, and Jan just barely managed to drift their way to the right, almost hitting pedestrians on the pavement. The enemy cars followed with no problem. Elisabeth and Kevin kept shooting back.

“Running low on ammo!”

It was then that one shot hit a soldier leaning out the window right in his temple. Dead, he went limp and fell out of the car.

“Nice shot, Kevin!” shouted Elisabeth.

But it was premature. The other car shot at them, and then Jan lost control of the car. They got the wheel was all he could think before the car started spinning and crashed into a building. Jan blacked out.

When he came to, Jan was lying inside the overturned car, and he could feel sharp pain all over his body. He looked around. Elisabeth was crawling out through the left side, while Kevin was nowhere to be seen. On the right, three soldiers were coming towards them with their rifles trained on the car.

“Step out of the car and put your hands in the air!” shouted one of the soldiers. “Now!”

With no other option, Jan started crawling out of the car. But then a gunshot rang out and one of the soldiers fell, blood flowing out of the side of his head. Kevin jumped into the scene, killing another soldier with his blade. The last soldier fought back using his rifle. Elisabeth came to Jan’s help and helped him get up. By this point, Kevin had taken out the last soldier.

“Let’s go, we need to disappear,” said Elisabeth as she helped Jan walk towards the pavement.

But then they heard the sound of more than a dozen footsteps running towards them, along with shouts of orders. They turned around and saw that a truck had stopped some distance away from them and had unloaded a squad of soldiers. The soldiers were headed straight for them, brandishing rifles ready to shoot at them at a moment’s notice. And then they started. Kevin shot back, and so did Elisabeth.

“Kevin! We need to get out here!” shouted Elisabeth.

Kevin walked backwards as he shot back at the soldiers, moving as best he could from cover to cover. Elisabeth provided cover from behind a car, while Jan tried to make himself useful and took out his own gun, but the pain coursing throughout his entire body meant he couldn’t do much else. Jan could only lean out a bit to see what was going on.

But it was at that moment that he saw Kevin fall to the ground.

“Kevin!” he shouted wildly.

Kevin pushed himself up. There was blood pooling at the bottom of his leg. He half-dragged his shot leg as he kept moving while sending shots back at the soldiers who were now covering the street in a hail of bullets.

“We have to help him!” shouted Jan to Elisabeth.

“I’m trying! There’s too many of them!”

And then Jan heard a shout. Jan leaned out again and saw Kevin on the ground. He had fallen again, this time with his back on the road. He was holding himself up with one elbow and shooting with the other. But another shot rang out, and blood spurted out of his shoulder as a bullet pierced it.

“Kevin!” the both of them shouted at the top of their lungs.

He looked at them, and with a nod of his head they understood what he was saying. Go.

“No, no, no!” shouted Jan as he tried to shoot at the incoming soldiers, but all his shots went wild.

“I’m sorry, Kevin,” Elisabeth said through tears. “We have to go, Jan.”

“No, no, no, we can’t leave him behind!”

“I’m almost out of bullets, and you can’t shoot! There’s something bigger than all of us here and we need to get it back to the Brotherhood. Come on!”

Elisabeth dragged Jan down the road. Jan kept his head turned towards Kevin. He was lying on the ground, and still shooting. But his arm was weak, even Jan could see. Until finally, he dropped the gun. The soldiers came to him and surrounded him. They aimed their guns at him. He closed his eyes. If they captured him, he could be saved, Jan thought.

But they shot him. Right in the head.

Elisabeth and Jan disappeared into the town.

***

Jan sat in the passenger seat in the car they had stolen. Elisabeth drove through the night towards Essen, the documents Neuner asked for sitting in the bag in the back seat. They said no words. They hadn’t since they entered the car. Jan kept his eyes glued to the passing scenery, watching, his mind and heart empty.

Father. Brother. Kevin.

Elisabeth sobbed quietly as she drove.

“Kevin, I’m sorry…”

And they kept driving.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 9 October 1942

“How dare you?!” shouted Temidare, the African Master Assassin and member of the Council. “How dare you, Lutz, do this behind our backs?!”

“You should have informed the Council beforehand,” scolded Eleonora, the only woman on the Council.

“And what would the Council have done? Hm?” replied Lutz. “Once again decline to do anything and sit on its arse?”

Jan and Elisabeth stood in the centre of the chamber. The Mentor was sitting in his seat at the head of the Council, spread out on the semi-circular wall that towered above the two Assassins. The tension in the air was so thick you could cut into it with a knife. Voices were raised. The Councilors, except for the Mentor, were basically shouting at each other. No, they were shouting at Lutz, and he was shouting back.

“Your actions have jeopardised this entire Brotherhood. It has led to the death of one and will soon lead to the death of us all!” shouted Master Tillmann.

“Has everyone on this godforsaken Council forgotten the very nature of our fight? We kill, and we are always at risk of being killed. I am not saying that Kevin’s death meant nothing. No, I’m saying the opposite. We can’t let his death be in vain. He died getting us information that could turn this whole war upside down!”

“What you have done, Lutz,” retorted Eleanor, “is put us all in great danger. Have you not heard of what is happening out there? By the day, we lose ground. Berlin isn’t even safe for us anymore. We have very few Assassins left in Berlin. And what do you think will happen now? Reprisals. If they hadn’t been using all their resources to hunt us down, they certainly would now. You will kill the Brotherhood and all the hope that goes with it.”

“And what’s the point of what we’re doing?!”

The intensity and volume of Lutz’s response was met with a stunned silence.

“We sit here, hiding in the sewers like rats hiding from an exterminator. You keep saying don’t do this, don’t do that, otherwise you’ll jeopardise the Brotherhood. And then what would you do if the Brotherhood wasn’t in jeopardy? You’ve done absolutely nothing in the past few years that has given any reason for this Brotherhood to exist in the first place. We might as well give up and surrender to the Templars.

“We have done nothing as the Templars and the Nazis gain power and wage this destructive war to create their new world order. There is no point in the Brotherhood surviving if it won’t do anything!”

“We cannot risk being so aggressive!” shouted back Temidare. “We lack the numbers. We lack the resources. We are barely standing. But our time will come.”

“We have been saying that for years now. I don’t know if you’ve realised, but there is a war going on outside. The most destructive and violent war in human history. And we are not doing anything about it! No wonder the American Brotherhood didn’t trust us and did their own thing!”

“Enough!” suddenly shouted the Mentor. His voice was coarse, but it was the sternest he had ever heard the Mentor speak.

“Be that as it may. You are a member of this Council, Lutz. This Council is the leadership of the German Brotherhood. You knowingly and willingly went behind its back and effectively went rogue. And your actions led to the death of an Assassin. In broad daylight too. Not only have you betrayed this Brotherhood and its institutions, but you have also put a target on our backs by these public actions you have sanctioned.”

The Mentor paused before continuing.

“In light of that, I propose that at least temporarily you be suspended from this Council.”

“What?” Lutz asked in disbelief. “You’re kicking me out of the Council for trying to do what we’re supposed to do?”

“No one is kicking you out of the Council,” Temidare reminded him. “It is only temporary. You should step back and take a moment to reflect on what you’ve done.”

“You have disregarded this Council’s decisions, Lutz,” said the Mentor. “We cannot have you here for the time being. It is only temporary.”

“Maybe it should be permanent,” commented Eleonora.

“Eleonora, please,” said the Mentor, trying to calm her down. “In addition, this Council will conduct a thorough investigation into your actions. We will see what exactly you have done, how you did it, why you did it, and whether what you did was proper.”

Lutz laughed.

“You mean to put me on trial.”

He laughed again, this time so much so that the entire hall was filled with his laughter, and he was practically wheezing by the end.

“What is so hilarious?” asked Temidare, his eyes staring daggers at Lutz.

“Ah, I can’t. I just can’t.” Lutz took a moment to stop laughing and wipe the tears from his eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just so ridiculous. The Templars are out there destroying the world and everything our Order stands for and we’re here putting me on trial for trying to do something about it. What a hilarious turn of events!”

In a flash, Lutz’s smile and laughter disappeared. What took its place was the coldest stare Jan had ever seen in his life, so much so that it sent shivers down his spine.

“You would do this?”

“You have left us no choice,” the Mentor said before he turned to look at the three other members of the Council. “All those in favour of suspending Lutz from his position on this Council and to order an investigation into his actions?”

As though it had been preplanned, in unison all four members of the Council besides Lutz raised their hands.

“You can’t be serious,” Lutz said, his expression unchanged.

“The Council has voted,” the Mentor announced. “As of this moment, you are temporarily suspended from this Council until further notice.”

Lutz stared at each member of the Council in turn with a hatred and disdain that Jan had never seen before. Then, he spoke his last words at the meeting.

“You will regret this.”

Then he went down from the platform and left the chambers. Jan and Elisabeth followed him to his study, where Elisabeth closed the door behind them.

“I can’t believe they’re blaming you for what happened to Kevin,” she said.

“If anything, it’s my fault. He was in that position because he tried to protect me,” said Jan.

“It’s neither of your faults,” Lutz declared. “Kevin was an Assassin, a member of this Brotherhood. He fought for what we all believe in, for the cause. For the greater good. To blame yourselves for his death is to disrespect it. He died for the Brotherhood, for everyone. Don’t forget that.”

“But this isn’t right,” Jan said. “With you off the Council, there’s no one doing the right thing there anymore. Just a bunch of old, cowardly bastards who will continue to do nothing while the world burns.”

“Are you planning on just taking this, Lutz?” Elisabeth demanded.

“No, of course not,” he said, pausing.

“Of course not. It’s time.”

Jan and Elisabeth looked at each other, uncertain as to what he meant.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 10 October 1942

Rows of shelves lined the moderately large chamber. Whereas the halls and other chambers were lit by torches and fireplaces, only this chamber had the luxury of a single electric lamp. This was because this was the armoury, and torches carried the risk of lighting a spark that could blow up the entire chamber and possibly the entire hideout.

The shelves were filled with weapons ranging from somewhat outdated firearms to shining blades. Crates of ammunition were stacked throughout the chamber, with old but polished rifles leaning against them. Pistols lay nestled among boxes of grenades and explosives. In one corner, a single rack was dedicated to various blades – conventional and hidden. Nearby was a cache of specialised equipment: grappling hooks, silencers, smoke bombs.

And in the middle of it all was a workbench with a single chair behind it. Its occupant, the Assassin they call the Quartermaster, wore his black Assassin robes like a uniform, but with its hood pulled back. He hunched his back, leaning over the desk while sitting on his chair. On the desk lay a damaged hidden blade belonging to one of the younger Assassins who had accidentally broken it during training. Though there were no windows to tell the time, he knew it was nearing sunset and he was almost finished with the repairs that he had begun in the morning.

Then suddenly four Assassins came in. The Quartermaster looked up. They fanned out around him, and they all had rifles and pistols in their hands. The Quartermaster reached for his belt but found that his pistol was not there.

“Evening, brothers, sister,” he said in greeting.

“Evening, Quartermaster,” replied the man standing right in front of the door with a pistol in his hand.

“Can I help you with something?”

“This armoury is hereby under our control. We don’t want any trouble, so stand up, raise your arms, and hand over any weapons you have to us.”

“’Our’?”

“I won’t say it again. Please.”

With that, he raised his pistol and aimed it straight at the Quartermaster. So did the other three Assassins. The Quartermaster looked left and right, then down. Finally, he stood up slowly and raised his arms. Then he moved quickly and rushed towards the shelf nearest to him to get a weapon, any weapon. But as soon as he did, a shot rang out. Instead of reaching the shelf, the Quartermaster found himself on the floor. At first, he did not know what had happened. But then the searing pain in his leg came.

“I warned you. Tie him up.”

At his word, two of the Assassins moved in and began tying up the Quartermaster.

“What is this? What are you doing? What’s happening?”

The man watched wordlessly as they tied up the Quartermaster. After he was tied up, the Assassins went around the room and checked everything inside. The Quartermaster could only watch. Then, the man who was their leader spoke.

“Armoury secured. It should be about now.”

The Quartermaster had no idea what he was talking about.

***

The doors to the Council chamber were slammed open. The two Assassins responsible for guarding it lay unconscious on the ground outside. The Councilors and the other two Assassins guarding them looked in shock towards the people entering.

Lutz stood at the head of more than half a dozen armed Assassins. Right behind him on either side were Jan and Elisabeth. They fanned out and aimed their weapons at the Councilors and their guards.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Master Eleanor.

Lutz stepped forward.

“Since this Council has seen fit to suspend me, the only councilor actually doing his job in this war against the Templars, I and other like-minded brothers and sisters have decided that perhaps it’s time we had a newer, fresher council. One that hasn’t forgotten what we’re fighting for and aren’t afraid to fight it.”

“In other words, a coup,” remarked Master Tillmann.

“I prefer to think of it as an emergency measure rather than a coup. With you at the helm, the Templars will definitely have their way. I’m sorry. I have no other choice.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“These weapons aimed at you, Master Tillmann, suggest otherwise.”

Jan was aiming his weapon at Master Eleonora. Of course, he knew it was all an act. Lutz had told him that there were to be no real killings in this coup. It would be a bloodless one. Despite knowing that, he couldn’t shake off the nervousness. His hands were trembling, and cold sweat was running down his forehead. Compared to fighting Templars in gun battles, this was more nerve-wracking.

“Drop your weapons, raise your arms, and surrender yourselves. You will not be harmed. It is not my intention to spill Assassin blood and take Assassin lives. It is Templar blood that needs to be spilled, Templar lives that need to be taken. I do this only reluctantly. You will be treated well.”

What followed was a standoff. For what seemed like an eternity, the councilors and their guards did not move. They stood still, staring down at Lutz, Jan, and the other revolutionary Assassins. For their part, they did not move either. Their weapons were still aimed at the councilors and their guards.

“Lutz, please,” pleaded the Mentor. “There’s no need for all this. We are all brothers and sisters of the Order. Have you forgotten the third tenet of the Creed? Do not compromise the Brotherhood.”

“As I’ve said countless times, it is you four that are compromising the Brotherhood by doing nothing. I’m past trying to convince you all. You have forced us to take action. Now surrender before things get ugly.”

Another standoff ensued. Until suddenly Master Eleonora swiftly took out her handgun and attempted to shoot Lutz. But Lutz reacted like lightning, and before Master Eleonora had even raised her handgun, he had shot her to Jan’s shock. She fell back onto her chair.

“Lutz, I thought-”

Master Eleonora grunted in pain.

“It’s fine, Jan,” he said reassuringly, but still keeping his gun pointed to where Master Eleonora was. “I only shot her shoulder.”

She was alive, clutching her bleeding shoulder. Jan sighed a breath of relief.

“Make no mistake, councilors,” Lutz began declaring. “I wish for nothing more than a bloodless transfer of power. But force our hand, and we will act accordingly. For the Brotherhood.”

In unison, Jan and the others on Lutz’s side shouted, “For the Brotherhood!”

Temidare looked to the Mentor.

“What should we do?”

The Mentor kept staring at Lutz, his expression unchanged. Though old and weathered, his eyes remained strong, unmoved. The other councilors were visibly worried, but not the Mentor. Finally, he spoke. He raised his right hand.

“Stand down.”

“But, Master,” pleaded Master Tillmann.

“Stand down, Master Tillmann. It is clear that we have been outmaneuvered. None of us expected a move this treacherous. To fight now would doom the Brotherhood to civil war. Many would be killed. And for what?”

The Mentor set his sights on Lutz before continuing.

“Very well, Lutz. You will have your way. This Council is under your power now.”

The Mentor then put his gun on the table and raised his arms. The three other Masters could not believe what they were seeing, and for a moment stood there with their mouths agape at what the Mentor was doing. But eventually, Masters Temidare and Tillmann both did the same. Master Eleonora straightened herself up on the chair, still clutching onto her bleeding shoulder. The two Assassin guards also did the same.

“Very good. I don’t want bloodshed. Take them to the holding cells.”

The Assassins beside Jan and Elisabeth nodded and made their way to the councilors and the guards. They bound their hands with rope behind their backs and led them out of the chambers and through the hallways towards the holding cells. Lutz, Jan, and Elisabeth were left alone in the council chambers.

“We did it!” shouted Elisabeth in excitement.

Jan was smiling too. They had to shoot Master Eleonora, but besides that no one was killed. As he was thinking, one of the Assassins loyal to Lutz came.

“Master,” he said at the doorway.

Lutz turned around.

“So?”

“The armoury and the exits are secured. We are in control of the entire place.”

“Very good. With this, we have successfully taken over the Brotherhood.”

Lutz turned back around and climbed up the steps leading to the council seats. He walked past his old seat and Master Eleonora’s seat to reach the Mentor’s seat. He turned to face Jan, Elisabeth, and the other Assassin who were watching from below. He touched the table while looking down at it, then planted both of his hands on it. He raised his head and looked at the Assassins below him.

“From today on, a new Brotherhood is born. No, the true Brotherhood is reborn. It is finally time we take the fight to the Templars and stop cowering, doing nothing in the sewers like rats! Nothing is true, everything is permitted!”

Jan, Elisabeth, and the other Assassin raised their fists and in unison echoed Lutz’s words.

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted!”

Satisfied, Lutz stood up straight with his hands behind his back and a faint smile under his hood. He was now the Mentor of the German Brotherhood of Assassins.

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 11 October 1942

The coup had been an unqualified success, Jan thought to himself as he passed several Assassins in the hallways who respectfully bowed their heads at him. With the members of the council locked up and the armoury under Lutz’s control, the other Assassins had accepted the new state of affairs quickly. Lutz was now the undisputed Mentor of the German Brotherhood of Assassins, and the only member of the Council. Jan and Elisabeth, being his most trusted comrades, were now accorded respect as close confidants of the Mentor. Jan’s thoughts went to Kevin, who would’ve enjoyed the same position if he were still alive. He held his fingers tight and vowed revenge, now ever more possible with the Brotherhood under Lutz’s leadership.

“Jan.”

He heard the aging man’s voice from behind him. It was a voice he knew well. Jan turned around and saw the veteran Assassin standing behind him. Broad-shouldered but otherwise lean, Jan had always thought he posed an imposing figure, more so from his dignity and presence than from his physical size.

“Uncle Rudolf. It’s been a while!”

Though Jan sees him from time to time in the hallways, recently due to how busy he had been they had not seen each other for a while.

“Indeed, it has, Jan. Could we talk for a minute?”

“Of course. What about?”

“Walk with me.”

Uncle Rudolf turned around and started walking the way they came from. Jan followed behind and caught up with him. They were now walking side by side. Jan noticed that Uncle Rudolf’s beard was almost completely grey now, whereas before it had been black. It was just a few years ago, when Father had been murdered by the Templars. But to think that his hair had changed colour in such a short time. Such was their battle.

“Quite a show you put on yesterday,” Uncle Rudolf began in a low voice.

“A show?”

“You helped Master Lutz take over the Council, didn’t you?”

“Yes, what of it?”

“Spilled Assassin blood in the process.”

“Nobody was killed.”

“Spilled Assassin blood, didn’t you?”

“It was unavoidable.”

“The whole thing was avoidable.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was no reason to do it.”

“You can’t be serious, Uncle Rudolf?”

After Father’s death, Uncle Rudolf helped Jan’s family a lot. He was a great help, emotionally and practically.

“You and Father often went against the Council’s wishes. I can’t believe you’re taking their side in this!”

Uncle Rudolf stopped in his tracks and turned to face Jan.

“Disobeying the Council is one thing, Jan. Overthrowing them and putting them in jail is another. Have you people lost your minds?”

“It’s the Council that’s lost theirs. Not just their minds, but their guts. They were so afraid of the Templars that they never did anything! It’s been three years of war and what have they done? You really think things would be better under the Council?”

“Yes, the Council has its flaws, Jan. Yes, I disagree with their strategy. But overthrowing them? At gunpoint? Shooting them? Locking them up? Do you know how that sounds? Assassin fighting Assassin.”

“There was no other choice. And besides, everyone went along with it. I don’t see anyone fighting back in the name of the old Council.”

“That’s because those that are loyal to the old Council aren’t stupid enough to put the Brotherhood in even more danger. Think, Jan,” he said, pointing to Jan’s head. “What you are doing is setting precedent. Say you defeat the Templars. Say we win this war. And then in the future, new, young Assassins don’t agree with your dear Mentor Lutz’s methods. They will look to the past and see that overthrowing the leadership of the Brotherhood is the way to go.”

“This was just a one-time thing. It was an emergency. We’re in a war, Uncle Rudolf. You must understand that,” Jan pleaded.

“I understand we’re in a war, Jan. But this isn’t right. And if you believe this is right, then you are staining the memory of your father!”

“Uncle Rudolf, please!”

“Go on. Follow Master Lutz like an obedient dog. For me and my comrades, he is no Mentor of ours.”

He turned around and began walking away.

“You can’t do that, Uncle Rudolf! The Assassins must stand united behind Lutz. Otherwise, we don’t stand a chance.”

Uncle Rudolf stopped and then turned his head around.

“We will not be part of this. What will you do, Jan?”

Jan stood there, frozen. He had no idea how to respond. With his father murdered, Uncle Rudolf was the closest thing he had to a father now. With Karl dead, the people he cared about were leaving him one by one. He couldn’t lose another one.

“What will you do? Will you shoot us? Have us taken to the dungeons? Or maybe we don’t deserve that treatment because we’re not members of the Council. Will you have us shot at once?”

In response, Jan just looked down. After a few moments, Uncle Rudolf went away without a word, leaving Jan alone in the empty hallway.

Chapter Text

Wilhemshaven Naval Shipyard, Wilhemshaven – 20 November 1942

Frank leaned against the container right under the streetlamp, right across from the destroyer Z39 Heinrich Hahnel. His limbs ached and his shoulders felt heavy after a hard day’s work. He looked at the ship which he had worked on from dawn to dusk, fixing her and getting her ready for the sea again. While lost in those thoughts, someone whistled at him. He turned his head and saw Cäsar coming.

“Hey, Frank!”

“Hey, Cäsar,” he said, nodding his head in greeting. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Just finished. What about yourself?”

“Same.”

Frank pointed at the Heinrich Hahnel.

“Oh right, you’re on Hartwich’s team.”

Cäsar joined him and together they had their backs to the container, looking at the ship. Cäsar took out a pack of cigarettes, opened it, and took one out. He put it in his mouth before offering one to Frank, who uttered a word of thanks as he took one. Cäsar took out his lighter and lit their cigarettes as they smoked the cold night away.

“You heard, Frank?”

“About what?”

“Apparently the Brits bombed Berlin, about two days ago.”

“Again? Was it bad?”

“Not sure, but I heard it wasn’t good.”

“Can’t believe those Brits are still in this war. We should’ve invaded them a long time ago.”

“They’ve got no chance. The Führer will lead us to victory, I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, you’re right. What chance do our enemies have when we control Europe?” he quipped with a chuckle.

“You got that right,” chuckled Cäsar along with him.

He turned his head to look at Frank as they laughed together. But his heart stopped when he saw a pair of eyes hidden beneath a hood coming out of the corner.

“Frank! Watch out!”

Frank only had time to look at Cäsar in surprise before the blade entered his neck. He tried to speak, but only gurgling and blood came out. The Assassin took out his blade and let Frank’s lifeless body fall forward, blood flowing out of his neck onto the road. Cäsar tried to shout, but he felt something sharp enter his neck from behind. His hand grasped at his neck and found a blade protruding from its front. Shaking, he felt a mixture of pain and fear, before the blade was pulled out violently and he fell to the ground, dead.

“Karsten,” called out the Assassin who had just killed Cäsar.

Karsten nodded back and held up his hand, before gesturing for the others to move forward. Two more Assassins rushed out of the darkness and headed straight for the Heinrich Hahnel. Karsten and the other Assassin followed. Once they reached the boardwalk, Karsten told the other Assassin to stay there and cover their rear. He nodded and hid behind the railings of the ship. Soon, Karsten and the two Assassins returned.

“Let’s go,” he says as the Assassins left the ship and disappeared back into the darkness.

Not five minutes later, two guards on patrol passed by the Heinrich Hahnel. One of them stopped in his tracks as he saw the bodies of Frank and Cäsar. He stopped his partner.

“Look! Something’s wrong!”

They took their rifles which were slung behind their backs and rushed to the corpses and tried to get a heartbeat, but there was none.

“We need to report this right aw-“

His words were cut off by a sudden, massive explosion on the Heinrich Hahnel. The two guards were thrown to the ground. Their surroundings were suddenly lit by the flames that had erupted. The two guards were left speechless as the alarms started blaring. Men started rushing towards the dock to see, but as they did another explosion rocked the other end of the shipyard. Another ship had exploded. And then one more.

The guards were left on the ground, staring at the flames.

***

Forest in Germany – 24 January 1943

Jeremia put the small log on the trunk, making sure it was right in the centre. Satisfied, he moved back and took his axe. Weighing it in his hands, he visualised cutting the log in his head. He brought the axe up above his head and let the blade fall straight down onto the log, cutting it in half. He leaned against the axe as he wiped the sweat off his forehead. He looked at all the firewood he had gathered and nodded to himself in satisfaction.

This should get us through quite a bit of time, he thought to himself.

“Jeremia!” shouted Doris from the house.

Jeremia dropped everything and immediately ran back. He found Doris standing just outside the front door, shaking and on the verge of tears. He ran towards her and hugged her.

“What’s wrong, Doris?”

She pointed towards the distance, towards the dirt road that was their only connection with the rest of civilisation since they began hiding. There was a truck approaching, and it wasn’t just any truck. Even from a distance, Jeremia could tell that it was a military truck. It was coming, and it was coming fast.

“How did they find us?!” he half-shouted as he gripped Doris tightly.

A thousand thoughts ran through his head. Should we just run? But we won’t be able to survive this winter in the forest without supplies. There’s no time to pack. They’ll be here any moment now.

But his indecision was his undoing. Before long, the truck had stopped not far from their house. Jeremia and Doris clung to each other tightly, not knowing what else they could do. It was useless to run at this point. Soldiers were coming out of the back of the truck, half a dozen of them with their rifles at the ready. At the end, their leader came out, similarly dressed and armed. They surrounded the house before Jeremia and Doris even realised.

“Good afternoon,” greeted Jeremia. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“Be quiet, you Jewish rat,” spat Sergeat Schmeller in return. “You thought you could hide out here, away from civilisation, did you?”

Jeremia hugged Doris deeper, fearing that if he let his grip loose then they would take her away from him.

“We’re just trying to live our lives, sir.”

“Save your pitiful excuses. We know who you are. A little birdie told us about you. You’re coming with us.”

At those words, Schmeller gestured for his men to move. Two soldiers came forard, guns at the ready. They grabbed Doris’ arm and tried to pry her away.

“Wait, please, we’ll go, we’ll go! So let her go!”

But they persisted, and eventually succeeded in pulling her away from his embrace.

“Jeremia!”

Before he realised it, Jeremia had reached one of the soldiers handling her and his fist had hit the soldier’s cheek, sending him to the snowy ground. But their retaliation was even quicker. The other soldiers came and started beating him with the butts of their rifles. He crouched and eventually rolled into a ball on the thick snow as the soldiers hit and kicked him.  He could hear Doris shouting his name in the background.

Then suddenly he was dragged up by his collar. He was made to stand on his knees, and one of the soldiers brought the butt of his rifle straight towards his cheek. The pain was instant, searing through his face as he fell to the snow. Then they resumed their hitting and kicking.

“You damned rats,” spat Schmeller once again. “Most of your kind left Germany before the war. Why are you still here? Maybe we should kill you here and there. No one will miss a couple of rats.”

“Sir,” suddenly one of the soldiers called out to him.

“What?”

The soldier pointed towards the road. There was a car headed straight for them. By the looks of it, it was a Kübel. The soldiers stopped their hitting and kicking, but Jeremia stayed on his knees in the snow, bloodied and bruised.

The Kübel finally came to a halt not far from the truck. Inside were three soldiers and an officer. One of the soldiers promptly got out and opened the door for the officer, who stepped out and walked towards Schmeller and his men. Schmeller, for his part, stepped forward and saluted the officer.

“Heil Hitler!” he shouted as he raised his arm in salute.

The officer saluted back.

“At ease,” he said. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, sir. Just handling a couple of fugitive rats. Jews, sir. They tried to hide here in the middle of nowhere, but we caught up to them eventually. Can I help you with something, sir?”

“We just came to check up on things. But what’s there?” pointed the officer to a spot behind Schmeller.

He turned around, and when he did the officer took out a gun and shot him straight in the back of the head. Blood and brains spurted out of the hole left by the gun as Schmeller fell to the ground. At nearly the same time, the soldiers with the officer took out their own guns and opened fire at the other soldiers. Three fell immediately, leaving five men alive.

The five remaining men immediately started shooting back, taking cover. The officer and his three men shot back, taking cover as well. One of Schmeller’s soldiers fell as he tried to get into cover. What followed was an exchange of fire. Jeremia ran to Doris and pulled her into the house as bullets whizzed around them. They hugged each other tightly and tried to make themselves as small a target as possible.

The gunfight blazed outside. Another of Schmeller’s soldiers was killed, leaving three left. One tried to lean out and shoot but received a bullet in the face as a result. The remaining two could not leave their covers, as the barrage of bullets came endlessly from the officer and his soldiers.

“Wait! Wait!” finally one of them shouted. “We surrender!”

The shots stopped. The two remaining soldiers came out and dropped their weapons. They raised their hands above their heads and looked down, walking forward towards the centre of the clearing. They were shaking, both from the cold and from fear. When they reached the centre, they dropped to their knees. The officer came out with his soldiers, keeping their guns pointed at the two soldiers. The officer ignored them and went into the house, where he found Jeremia and Doris still huddled together, crying in fear.

“It’s okay,” the officer said.

He took off his cap and showed his face to them.

“My name’s Jan. I’m not one of them. We’re here to rescue you.”

Jan dropped his gun and held out a hand. Jeremia and Doris looked at him sheepishly, still not sure whether they could trust him or not. But Jeremia took his hand, and Jan helped him up. Then Jeremia helped his wife up, though her legs were shaking, and she could barely stand.

“Let’s get you out of here. It’s not safe for you anymore. We’ll find you a new place to hide out this war.”

Jan escorted them out. Doris took one look at the dead bodies strewn around the clearing and looked away, burying herself in Jeremia’s chest. Jeremia couldn’t take his eyes off the dead soldiers. The first deaths he had seen since Kristallnacht. Jan escorted them to the truck and had them go in the back. Then he returned to the Assassins dressed as soldiers, still holding the two real soldiers at gunpoint.

“What should we do, Jan?”

“Please,” one of them begged. “Please don’t kill us. We surrender.”

He looked up to see Jan’s face and at once felt his heart drop and his entire body shuddered in cold fear. Jan’s eyes were looking at them with hatred he had never seen in his life. It was as if they were nothing more than ants, and that he was about to stamp them with his boots.

“Kill them.”

“Wa-“ one of them tried to shout as he stood up, but the Assassins shot him down before he could finish.

Two bullets went through his head. The other soldier only had time to look at his dead friend and look in the eyes of the Assassin who shot him point blank through the forehead. They took the bodies and the bodies of Schmeller and his other soldiers into Jeremia’s house. They took what Jeremia asked them to take and put it in the truck.

Two Assassins took the driver’s and passenger’s seat in front, while another went into the back of the truck. Jan stayed outside, looking through the door where a pile of dead bodies lay. He then took out a lighter and threw it into the house. Soon, it was engulfed in flames. As the fire became larger, Jan got into the back of the truck.

“Let’s go,” he shouted to the front.

The truck left the scene as the fire burnt the house and everything in it.

***

Tangermünde, Saxony, Germany – 13 February 1943

Obersturmbannführer Eugen Kindler sat on a chair in the dining room. Bread with butter, cheeses, eggs, with a side of coffee for breakfast as he read the reports of the latest news regarding the war. Munich, Vienna, and Berlin had all been bombed heavily by the Allies. Though they still had the upper hand, the war was not going well. At least, not for Germany. As he sipped a bit of his coffee, he was interrupted by one of the guards who had come from the front of the house. He raised his hand in salute and said “Heil Hitler!”. Kindler replied in kind and asked him what was so important that it had to bother his breakfast.

“There is a man and woman at the door, sir.”

“Who?”

“They didn’t give their names, but they are insisting that they wish to see you.”

“Whatever for? What is their business?”

“They said that they have business with a certain Frau Hauschka?”

At the mention of that name, Kindler’s eyes went wide with shock. He put down the cup and faced the soldier once more.

“Frau Hauschka? You heard correctly?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Arrest them at once, and-”

His words were cut off by the sound of a fight and gunshots outside.

“They’re trying to get in!” shouted one soldier from outside, followed by a gunshot and a scream.

The guard in front of Kindler took his rifle from his back and went into the hallway while aiming it. He took cover behind a cabinet and started shooting.

“They’re trying to get in, sir!”

Kindler wasted no time. He took his cap, put it on, and ran towards the back door. At the back, the three soldiers guarding the car were on high alert, their rifles out and ready.

“Sir, what’s happening?”

“Let’s go! Terrorists are trying to kill me. Get me out of here!”

Two guards immediately went into the front seats, while the other guard opened the door for Kindler. After he went in, the guard himself got in and, without wasting any time, the driver stepped on the gas and drove out from behind the house and into the main street.

How could they know about Frau Hauschka?

Kindler racked his brains in the car as they drove as far away as possible from the house. Only a few people close to him knew of her existence. Some of them didn’t even know her name. Then it must be one of the ones who did know her name. They must have been captured, or worse, maybe they have been betrayed.

“Sir! There’s a car following us!”

Kindler looked back and saw a car speeding through traffic and closely approaching them. Whenever they turned, the car turned.

“Step on it! We have to lose them.”

“Where should we go, sir?”

“To the nearest Schutzstaffel base, quickly!”

The driver accelerated, but the car was keeping up and slowly getting closer.

“Faster, you fool!”

“I can’t, sir, this is the fastest I’m going!”

Kindler kept looking back at the car, trying to find out the identity of these terrorists. Suddenly, one of them leaned out of the window. He or she was dressed in a robe that covered half their face. His heart dropped, and he caught spit in his throat.

Assassins.

The Assassin took out a rifle, aimed it at them, and began shooting. One of the bullets went through the back window, shattering it. Kindler and his men lowered their heads to avoid the shots, and the driver almost lost control of the car.

“Shoot back, dammit!”

He took out his own handgun as the soldier next to him opened fire on the Assassins through the shattered back window. He shot at them as well, but they couldn’t hit the Assassins. The Assassin did not shoot much, but each time they did their shot seemed closer and closer to their target, until finally one shot hit the soldier next to him straight in the head.

“You too! Lean out and start shooting!” he shouted to the soldier in the front passenger seat.

The soldier hesitantly leaned out and started shooting with his rifle, but mere moments later he was shot and fell dead out of the car.

“Why aren’t we losing them?!” he demanded of the driver. “Do something!”

But at those words, one of the tires exploded under them as the Assassin shot it. The driver lost control of the car. It swerved and swerved until it finally crashed into the pavement, hitting a building and narrowly missing people who were walking.

Kindler and the driver left the car, wounded and bleeding. They had no rest, as the Assassins had stopped their own car and had come out, approaching them. The driver raised his rifle but was shot dead before he could shoot even once. Kindler shot at them with his handgun, but one Assassin closed the distance and broke his arm. In pain, he dropped the gun and was pushed down onto the pavement, leaning against his car.

“Where is Hauschka?”

It was the voice of a woman. She held her blade against his neck.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

The Assassin took her gun, put it right against his leg, and pulled the trigger. He screamed in pain as blood began to flow from the wound.

“Let’s try that again. Where is Hauschka?”

He didn’t say anything. This time, the Assassin put the gun right against his shoulder and took a shot. Kindler could barely handle the pain spreading throughout his entire body. The Assassin put her blade against Kindler’s neck, pushing it deep enough to just draw a little blood.

“Where. Is. Hauschka?”

He gulped. Cold sweat was pouring down his face.

“Magdeburg. She’s in Magdeburg.”

She took away the blade. Kindler relaxed and grasped at his shoulder and leg as the blood spread across the pavement. But then the Assassin lifted up her gun and shot him straight in the neck. His body stiffened from the shot and his eyes were crazed. He grasped at his neck for a few moments, gasping for air. And then his head fell limp. The Assassin stood up and walked back towards the car.

“What did he say, Elisabeth?”

“Magdeburg,” she replied. “Hauschka is in Magdeburg.”

Chapter Text

Essen, Germany – 22 April 1943

Half a year has passed since Lutz took over. Although after the takeover most of the Assassins acknowledged Lutz’s leadership, a small number of Assassins refused to. They didn’t try to free the old Mentor and Council, but they refused to follow Lutz’s directions. But as the fight went on, they slowly became convinced. Either that, or they started begrudgingly following Lutz because this was not the time for disunity in the Brotherhood. Uncle Rudolf was one of the last ones to acknowledge Lutz’s leadership, and he did so with disgust. He now does the missions assigned to him, but every time they met in the hallway, Uncle Rudolf would refuse to speak with him, and he would just ignore him.

With these thoughts in mind, Jan went to the council chamber. Though Lutz sometimes uses his old study for more private conversations, generally he conducts his business here these days. The raised platform with the tables and high seats remained, but now between the door and the semi-circle was a large table where a map of Germany and the surrounding countries was laid out. There were no chairs, and everyone would stand around the table with Lutz at its head.

When Jan arrived, Lutz was already at the head of the table. Elisabeth was to his left. There were other Assassins assembled around the table. The spot to the right of Lutz was reserved for Jan himself and that’s where he moved to. To his own right was Caspar Klaproth, a young Assassin who has effectively taken the place of Kevin as one of Lutz’s three most trusted lieutenants. Tall, lean, with cropped blonde hair, blue eyes, and a defined jawline, he seemed more like a Nazi poster boy than an Assassin trying to take them down. He was wholly devoted to Lutz and had been under his wing since before Jan had met Lutz. He was energetic, loyal, and skilled. Although he was no replacement for Kevin, Jan got along just fine with him, and so did Elisabeth.

“Welcome, brothers, sisters,” Lutz began with a loud voice that echoed throughout the whole council chamber.

“I thank you all for gathering here today. Before we begin today’s important discussions, I would like to say a few words of congratulations to all of us for all the good work we’ve done in the past half year. Ever since the old Council was removed, we have finally begun taking the offensive. And we have made sure the Nazis and the Templars feel the pain. But this is only the beginning. We are not in this war merely to fight. We are in this war to win! And together, that is no longer a fantasy. It is a future reality!”

The Assassins cheered in celebration; Jan included. Lutz’s leadership had revived the dormant Brotherhood, and Jan had never seen the Brotherhood so full of energy and will. It was apparent in the eyes of each Assassin he met in the hideout. There was a fire in each and every one of them.

“And now, to the order of business. Courtesy of our good friend Neuner, who has been so generous as to provide as much information as he could willingly.” Lutz paused for effect, and there was laughter around the room. “We have discovered that what the Templars are looking for is a weapons’ vault. But not just any weapons’ vault, apparently a vault so ancient that it possibly predate human civilisation. It apparently belongs to an advanced race of people known only as The Ones Who Came Before. Theirs was apparently a civilisation that puts to shame even our modern civilisation. And this includes their weapons. Apparently, the Templars are seeking this vault in order to end the war once and for all.”

There was silence around the room as the Assassins digested what they had just heard. Jan was the first to speak.

“No offence to Neuner, but this sounds like mythological mumbo jumbo. We’ve never heard of these Ones Who Came Before. This sounds like superstition or old wives’ tales.”

“Indeed. I find it hard to believe in myself. But whether it is true or not doesn’t matter. What matters is that the Templars believe it exists, they want it, and they have spent their unlimited resources on it. That value itself is enough for us to have to act, to make sure that whatever it is they find does not fall into their hands.”

All the Assassins nodded their head. They were of one mind, their thoughts and will expressed and led by Lutz himself.

“Knowing that, we have two pieces of information. One, its location is somewhere in the Black Forest in southwestern Germany. Neuner has produced a map which should be able to lead us to the general area. Second, it requires some sort of key. And our activities thus far have pointed to a certain Frau Hauschka who seems to possess this key. Due to our sister Elisabeth’s efforts, we have discovered that she is in Magdeburg, in hiding and under the protection of at least three battalions of Schutzstaffel Templar soldiers.

“We will focus our efforts first on the key. There is no point in finding the location if we cannot open it. It will not be an easy task. As usual, we take the offensive. But we are Assassins, we work in the shadows. We will not mount a frontal attack. A team of ten Assassins, led by Jan, Elisabeth, and Caspar, will steal the key from Hauschka and kill her in the process. The others, we will prepare for the journey into the Black Forest to find this… whatever it is. Am I clear?”

They all nodded and shouted yes in unison.

“Good, then you may prepare. Jan, choose your team.”

Jan nodded. The Assassins began to leave, with Jan, Elisabeth, and Caspar trailing at the back.

“Jan, Elisabeth, Caspar.”

They stopped just before leaving the room and turned to look at Lutz.

“We need that key. Kill Hauschka if you can, but what’s most important is that you get out of there alive. Understood?”

“We’ll get it done, Lutz,” Jan assured him.

“Good. Now go.”

They nodded, and the three of them left.

Chapter Text

Magdeburg, Saxony, Germany – 2 May 1943

Jan brought the binoculars to his eyes and looked at the entrance to the compound where Hauschka was. Any minute now it would begin. Jan, Elisabeth, and two other Assassins waited on a roof on the other end of the compound, right across the heavily guarded, smaller back gate. The entire base was crawling with Schutzstaffel soldiers. There was no way a group of about a dozen Assassins could simply walk in and get the job done.

Jan took out his pocket watch.

It should’ve started a minute ago.

“Do you think Caspar’s fine?” he asked.

“I’m sure he’s fine.”

“He’s late.”

“Don’t worry. He’ll get it done.”

Just like Elisabeth said, a few moments later several explosions rocked the front gates of the compound. Gunfire soon erupted as Caspar and the other Assassins launched their attack, shooting from the windows of the surrounding building. With his binoculars, Jan zoomed in on the action.

The compound gates had been blown to bits, and there were dead soldiers lying around it. Other soldiers were coming and taking cover behind whatever they could find, shooting back at the Assassins in the buildings. He saw many of them get picked off by the Assassins, forcing even more and more soldiers to come to the perimeter of the front gate.

Across the road, he saw four Assassins come out of a building. They approached the ruins of the gates and began shooting from the hole, slowly advancing into the compound. The soldiers retreated, while more came to their aid. It seemed like the Assassins had the upper hand, but fighting against three battalions the best they could do was hold them off for a few minutes.

Jan turned his attention to the buildings at the back of the compound, specifically the headquarters where Hauschka probably was. More and more soldiers were headed to the front gates to fight off the Assassins, but many stayed behind at the headquarters.

“Come on…”

They hadn’t been able to ascertain Hauschka’s presence. She had not appeared in the last four days they’d been in Magdeburg, but there was no indication that she had left either.

At last, a door at the back of the headquarters opened. An escort of half a dozen soldiers came out, followed by a woman in a coat and hat, with another half-dozen soldiers coming up behind her. They walked towards the back gate which was itself guarded by half a dozen soldiers. Three cars had arrived, ready to bring Hauschka away.

Jan motioned to Elisabeth and one of the Assassins named Laurenz who, using a rope they had tethered to a spot on the roof, jumped down onto street level and approached the three cars just as Hauschka and her escort were coming out of the back gate. When the soldiers guarding the cars saw them, they shouted for them to stop. Elisabeth and Laurenz shot several of them dead. Before they could respond, Elisabeth and Laurenz had thrown grenades under the cars and ran back for cover. The three cars exploded, throwing many of the soldiers onto the ground as flames rose up from the husks.

Hauschka’s escort began to try and get her back into the compound, but Jan and his fellow Assassin Sebastian rained a hell of bullets upon them, forcing them to take cover behind the burning cars. The four Assassins kept up their pressure, barely allowing Hauschka’s men to fire back. Elisabeth and Laurenz kept moving forward towards the car. They were picking off Hauschka’s soldiers one by one.

“Can you handle things up here?” Jan asked Sebastian.

He nodded, and Jan nodded back. Jan went to the side and jumped down using the rope like Elisabeth and Laurenz did. He went after them, and the three of them kept their pressure on the soldiers, slowly encroaching on them.

But it wasn’t as easy as they thought it was going to be, as more soldiers came out from the back gate and began shooting. The three Assassins had to retreat to avoid the gunfire. The soldiers again attempted to get Hauschka inside, but Sebastian shot at them, killing several of the soldiers and forcing them to take cover again. The Assassins and the soldiers continued to exchange fire.

“We can’t keep this up!” Elisabeth shouted over the hail of bullets.

“I know!” Jan shouted back. “We need to get Hauscha now or we’ll lose her!”

Jan called out to Sebastian on the roof, shouting across the urban battlefield. Sebastian took his eyes off the sight and looked at Jan. Jan signaled to him to keep firing and cover them, to which he nodded his head. He returned to aiming and began shooting bullet after bullet, more rapid than before. The soldiers began taking cover and had fewer and fewer chances to lean out and shoot back. Jan turned to his companions.

“On three, we go out and bring hell on them. We’re taking Hauschka.”

They nodded.

“1…”

“2……”

“3!”

At once, all three Assassins burst out from cover. Jan and Elisabeth went to the right while Laurenz went to the left. Even while moving, they kept shooting. They went around the burning cars and came face to face with the soldiers who were still laying low under Sebastian’s fire. The soldiers didn’t have time to react before the Assassins had shot half of them, killing some. When they tried to fire back, Sebastian shot them dead. The soldiers were scrambling for cover, but there was no way out.

Jan and Elisabeth kept advancing. They didn’t try to kill all the soldiers, but they made sure to shoot as many of them as they moved forward. The soldiers hiding behind the walls retreated deeper and tried to shoot at them from the safety of the compound, but their shots went wild as the Assassins deftly darted left and right.

Hauschka crouched behind one of the burning cars. She took out her handgun to shoot back at the Assassins, but when she did Jan shot her in the shoulder. She screamed in pain and dropped her gun, falling back onto the pavement. Jan and Laurenz went to her and pulled her to the other side of the burning cars facing the road while Elisabeth and Sebastian covered them. When they had done so, Elisabeth slowly moved back. Elisabeth and the other Assassins kept exchanging fire with the soldiers while Jan handled Hauschka.

Hauschka was grimacing with pain, clutching desperately at her bleeding shoulder. The blood was quickly soaking through her black coat, while the cream blouse she wore underneath had already turned a dark crimson. Jan choked her.

“Where’s the key?”

“You may be winning here, Assassin,” she said, her voice raspy. “But in the end, you will lose.”

“I’d love to chat, but I don’t have time for that.”

Jan extended his hidden blade, and the blade went right through her neck. Her eyes went wide. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but nothing came out except gurgling and blood. And then she went limp. Jan pulled out the hidden blade and searched her pockets until finding in one a strange circular object the size of his palm. It was composed of three circular layers. The outer layer was made of gold or bronze, decorated with triangles incised into the metal. The second layer was made of some sort of glass, while the inner layer was made of a dark metal. On the metal were inscribed three symbols, the same symbol Jan saw in the books in Warsaw. The inner layer had a circular hole in it.

“Did you find it?” shouted Elisabeth at Jan.

“Yes!”

“Then let’s get out of here!”

Jan nodded and put the key in his pocket. When he looked up, Sebastian had just been shot, and he was falling forward. His body crashed onto the street.

“No!” screamed Elisabeth.

“Looks like Caspar was forced to retreat, we need to go too!” shouted Laurenz.

Jan, Elisabeth, and Laurenz retreated, moving towards the alley while shooting back. More and more soldiers were pouring out of the gates now that there was no distraction. Jan went to Sebastian and carried his body into the alley, before Elisabeth and Laurenz followed. They disappeared into the alleys. The soldiers gave chase, but by then the Assassins had gone into their car and sped away.

Chapter Text

Black Forest, Germany – 6 May 1943

The sun was high in the sky, and there were few clouds. A not uncomfortable silence enveloped the forest. No bird was heard, and no animals moved about the forest floor covered in greenery and fallen logs where insects and mushrooms had made homes for themselves. As far as the eyes could see were trees, some older than the seven Assassins making their way through the forest.

Jan and Elisabeth walked at their head. All the Assassins wore their coats with their hoods pulled back. Caspar walked slightly behind them and following him were four other Assassins. This was supposed to be the same team that hit Hauschka’s compound. Out of the thirteen Assassins who had gone, two had been killed and four had been injured. Only these seven were in good enough shape to join the mission. As they reached a creek, Jan and Elisabeth stopped.

“This is probably the creek Neuner talked about.”

Jan crouched down and looked into the clean, clear water flowing through the creek. He turned his head up and looked around, analysing the scene around him. The immediate surroundings of the creek were mostly flat, composed of trees, fallen logs, and a ground covered with green underbrush. But further afield the terrain became less uniform, with hills here and there.

“We should split up, cover more ground. Elisabeth and I will go that way,” he said, pointing towards the west. “Caspar, you and Laurenz cover the north. The rest of you, south. If you don’t find anything, go back here and wait. Be careful. It’s not impossible that the Templars might’ve somehow figured things out and gone here to snoop around.”

The Assassins nodded and went their separate ways. Jan and Elisabeth were the last to leave, and just as Jan said they crossed the creek and went north. They went at a slow pace, looking at any and every little thing to find some sort of clue to… whatever it was the key opened.

Suddenly, something rattled some nearby bushes. Elisabeth reacted in an instant and took out her handgun. She aimed it at the bushes.

“Who’s there?!”

“Wait!” Jan shouted.

Just as Elisabeth was about to shoot, Jan held her hand down. Then a rabbit hopped out of the bushes, and the two of them relaxed, breathing sighs of relief. Elisabeth holstered her gun once again.

“Sorry,” she apologised. “I don’t like forests.”

“Why is that?”

“Bad memories,” she said as they continued on their way.

Jan realised that despite having fought together with her for several years now, Jan barely knew anything about her. Sure, he knew she was tough, dedicated to the cause, and could more than hold her own in a fight. But beyond that, Jan didn’t know anything. He didn’t know anything about Kevin either. And now he never will, not directly from Kevin himself anyway. Remembering Kevin, he sighed. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake.

“What happened?”

Elisabeth didn’t answer for a few moments, which made Jan worry. Jan was about to tell her she didn’t need to answer when she did.

“It reminds me of when I was rescued by the Brotherhood.”

“Rescued by the Brotherhood?”

“Yes. I wasn’t born an Assassin like you. My parents weren’t Assassins. They ran an inn on the outskirts of Dessau in Anhalt.”

“An inn? That’s quite quaint.”

“It was,” Elisabeth said, smiling.

Jan rarely saw her with a warm, sincere smile.

“It was traditional-like too. I remember we served drinks and food, and the locals were regular customers. I helped out, though at that age I wasn’t much help. We weren’t rich, but we did get by. My parents ran it together. My father would cook, serve drinks, entertain the customers. My mother managed the lodgings. Sheets and all. Everyone in the community knew them.”

“They sound like warm, kind people.”

“Yeah. Yeah, they were.” Elisabeth paused. “Which is why I don’t understand why it happened.”

“It?”

“The attack. It was night, but I couldn’t sleep. There was a storm outside. Lightning and thunder and all. I was scared, so I went out of my room to try and find my parents. They weren’t in the bedroom, so they were still on the first floor probably cleaning up. It was a slow day. We didn’t have any guests, and due to the rain, few of the locals came.

“But several men came in. They were wearing black trench coats and black hats. Drenched from the rain. I was about to go down just as they came in. I was a kid, so I didn’t like to be in front of strangers. So, I waited at the top of the stairs, debating whether I should go back to my room to try and sleep.

“But they weren’t buying drinks. They were saying something to my father. I couldn’t hear exactly what. But it got heated. The men were raising their voices. My father was trying to calm them down. My mother started to go up the stairs and saw me. She asked what I was doing there and told me to go back to my room, but I kept my eyes on my father and those men.

“That was when they pulled the guns out. My father tried to defuse the situation. He raised his arms to show he didn’t mean any harm. They also aimed at my mother, who almost fell back onto the stairs in fear. When they did that, my father instinctively moved to protect my mother. Maybe they got jittery, maybe they just didn’t care. They shot my father when he did that. Three shots. He was dead immediately. My mother screamed. She went to run towards me, but they shot her in the back.”

He knew he was supposed to look at the surroundings to find what they were looking for, but he had to look at Elisabeth’s expression. Because from her voice, she was telling this story as if she was just reciting facts. No emotion. No grief. No sadness. No pain. No anger. Her face was grim, but she kept looking left and right trying to find their objective.

“She reached out to me. Her last words to me before they shot her again was ‘Run.’ For a moment though, I was frozen. My mother and father were in front of me, lying dead. The men looked at me. I think I heard one of them say ‘That’s her. Get her!’.  I turned around and ran down the corridor. There was no exit that way, but I just ran to the end of the hallway. The men were running after me. When I reached the wall and turned around, they were closing in. The window was open, so I jumped out into the rain.

“I fell into a puddle of mud. I vividly remember scraping my knees. I didn’t look back and just started running. Our inn was at the edge of town, and it was right next to a forest. I ran towards it without really knowing where I was going. If I had gone to my neighbours, I was afraid the men would kill them too. I don’t know how long I ran. It was dark and wet. My heart was beating so fast, and I was a mess. I just saw my parents get killed. I was alone. People I didn’t know were chasing me.

“But it wasn’t over. I heard them coming behind me. I heard their voices, shouting in the dark. And as I ran, the voices got louder and louder. They were catching up to me. I knew running wasn’t going to get me anywhere, so I looked around. I found a hole at the base of a tree, just enough for me to squeeze in. I went in and hid, waiting for them to pass by.

“I held my breath as they came. They brought torches and were looking around. They started to head in the general direction I was heading, so I waited for them. But one of them stopped and called out to the others that he felt something wasn’t right. They started looking around the area, shining light onto every bush and log. I was on the verge of crying. I was afraid they’d find me if I cried.

“But it didn’t matter. One of them shone a light on me and pulled me out by the collar. I kicked and screamed, but I was at their mercy. They put me on the ground, headfirst onto the wet, sloppy dirt covered with leaves. They told me to calm down or they were going to hurt me. They said that I was going to come with them. I started sobbing. They hit me. I was alone. There was no one to help me.”

“They took you away?” Jan asked, not believing that something as traumatic as that had happened to her. He lost his father, but his mother was still alive. To lose both parents right in front of you…

“No. That’s when it happened. I heard a gunshot, and one of them fell to the ground, not far from me. His cold, dead eyes met mine. I remember it so clearly. The other two men panicked and started shooting randomly. But something like a shadow came. Unseen, moving faster than their eyes could follow. Within a few seconds, he had taken out both of the men holding me down.”

“An Assassin?”

Elisabeth nodded.

“I didn’t know at the time. He was wearing his hood. I couldn’t even see his face. He knelt beside me and held out his hand. I crawled back, afraid. But then he pulled back his hood to reveal his face. In a soft, gentle voice, he told me it was okay. Eventually, I took his hand. He led me through the forest towards the inn. The rain was subsiding, and the closer we got the more I noticed a bright light. And then the plumes of smoke. When we got there, my neighbours were trying to douse the flames that had engulfed my family’s inn. People were rushing left and right, carrying buckets of water. They shouted my father’s name, my mother’s name, and my name.

“I was about to shout back and run to them when the Assassin stopped me. He told me it wasn’t safe for me there anymore. He said he needed to get me out of there or more bad men would come. And so, I followed him. We made the arduous journey; I didn’t know where to. Several times along the way, more of those bad men were on our tails.

“Near our destination, the car broke down. We had to proceed on foot through another forest. That’s when I heard them coming. The ones coming after me had caught up. I couldn’t run fast enough, so the Assassin carried me on his back, and he ran as fast as he could. But it was too late. I looked back, and I saw them coming right on our heels. Maybe ten men, armed with guns. No matter how fast he ran, the ones chasing us were quicker.

“Finally, he stopped and put me down. He told me to keep running in a certain direction. He told me not to look back and to keep running until I found other Assassins who were waiting for us. I didn’t want to leave him, but he was almost shouting at me to go. I remember that when I looked back, he had turned around and was about to face the ten men coming after us. He took out his gun, and he extended his hidden blades. Not long afterwards, after I had lost sight of him, I heard gunfire in the distance.

“Eventually, I reached the Assassins. When I told them what had happened, half of them went to him. But he didn’t come back with them. Not alive. They carried his body into the car, and we went away. They took me to the hideout in Essen, where I was practically raised from then on as an Assassin.”

“But why did they try to take you?” Jan asked her.

“I don’t know. Nobody knew. Apparently only he did. He was investigating something and apparently that led to me. He died before he could tell any other Assassin.”

“Is it fine if I asked what his name was?”

“Augustin. Augustin Schieffer.”

“Wait, I know him.”

“You do?”

“Well, not personally. But I’ve heard his name. He was a good friend of my father. They often spoke on the telephone. And maybe I met him when I was little, but I don’t remember anything. He was killed by Templars, wasn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“So, the Templars wanted to kidnap you.”

“And I don’t know what for. They killed my parents, who didn’t know anything. They killed Augustin too. He died for me. Sacrificed his life for me. I’ll never forget that for the rest of my life. That’s why I’ve dedicated myself to the Brotherhood, and why I followed Lutz. I don’t want his death to be in vain. I want us to succeed in fighting against those people who killed my parents. I have a debt to him that can never be repaid, but I will try to pay for it either way.”

Jan simply nodded, even though Elisabeth wasn’t looking at him. He didn’t have any other words to say after that story, the story of how Elisabeth became an Assassin. They continued looking wordlessly, but Jan wasn’t paying attention and was deep in his thoughts. What did Augustin know? Why did they try to take Elisabeth? Those thoughts floated around in his head.

“There! I see something!” Elisabeth suddenly shouted as she pointed at a hill.

They went over to it. It looked like a large boulder that was covered in grass, but there was nothing to suggest it wasn’t just a hill.

“There’s nothing here,” he said. “Why did you lead us here?”

“I… don’t know,” she said, her brows furrowed as she thought hard. “I just felt like this was it.”

“Intuition?”

“Something like that, but much stronger. It’s like I’m drawn to it, like it’s calling to me…”

Something similar had happened back in Pilsen. When they went through the Gestapo headquarters there, Elisabeth just knew where to go, despite never having been there. But she was right then, and it was likely she was right this time around too.

They touched the moss-covered stone, trying to find any sort of clue.

“Jan!” shouted Elisabeth. “I found something.”

She tore away a bit of moss. And lo and behold, there was a circular shaped incision in the stone. Jan took out the key he was wearing around his neck and compared it to the incision.

“A perfect fit,” he said as he slowly put the key in.

The key started glowing, and Jan and Elisabeth moved back in surprise. Then there was a loud rumbling, as if the stone itself was being moved by some unseen force. But it wasn’t the stone, but rather one side of it. It was slowly sliding down as if it were a gate opening. It took a few seconds for it to fully open, but once it did the mouth of a cave opened to them and the rumbling stopped.

Jan and Elisabeth cautiously moved towards it and looked into the darkness. As they did, lights suddenly appeared on both sides of the cave which revealed stairs going deep underground. Elisabeth was completely overtaken by the strange turn of events, but half of Jan’s mind was still occupied with the story Elisabeth told.

“Elisabeth.”

Elisabeth turned to him.

“When this is all over…”

Jan thought his words through. But he didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

There would be time later for him to say it.

“Should we go in?”

Elisabeth nodded, and the two of them descended into the dimly lit cave.

Chapter Text

Black Forest, Germany – 6 May 1943

Jan and Elisabeth descended into the unknown. The cave was unlike anything they had ever seen. At first, at specific intervals there were glowing yellow lights on the stone walls of the cave. But the deeper they went, the stranger it became. Stone made way for metal, and now there was a wide line that went parallel to them that provided lights. Like the lights before, it was an otherworldly yellow and it was thanks to them that they needed no torches. They weren’t sure how long they descended the steps, but the strangeness of it all contributed to the feeling that they were outside of time itself in a way and that there was no way to count how long they were down there.

Eventually they came to a metallic door which had the same circular incision on it like the entrance to the cave. Jan put the key in it, and it opened, allowing them inside. At first, it was dark. They went in but they could see nothing. But then they heard alien humming sounds, and the lights slowly came on, revealing a massive square chamber.

The entire chamber was made of the same metal as the latter half of the staircase. There was no furniture per se, but there were blocks of the same metal here between Jan and Elisabeth and the far end of the chamber. The blocks were present on both their left and right, making the chamber symmetrical in shape. There were openings on both sides of the wall that led to corridors from which they could see there were more doorways.

But what grabbed their attention was the contraption that dominated the far end of the chamber. Jan and Elisabeth cautiously walked towards it. There was a ball on top of a pedestal that looked like it was made of crystal. Behind it, built into the wall, was the mysterious machine. At its centre was a large cylinder, like the trunk of a tree. Numerous pipes ran down it and its sides, ending into the floor or into a box the shape of a coffin covered with transparent glass that was right in front of it, several paces behind the crystal ball. The pipes connected the floor and the coffin to the top, where it branched out into the ceiling. It hugged a central, gigantic hexagon made of glass, though they could only see three of its sides with the other three probably being hidden by the wall. The hexagon’s inside was dark and they couldn’t see what was in there.

“What the hell is that?” Jan could only ask in awe.

“It looks like a… a tree?”

Jan and Elisabeth went left and right, trying to take in the entirety of the mysterious object before returning to the crystal ball. Jan touched it. It was cold but smooth, so much so that he could run his hand through it without a single hint of friction.

“You think if I keep rubbing it it’ll show my future?” Jan joked.

But Elisabeth wasn’t paying attention to him. She was looking straight into the crystal ball as if there was nothing else in the world.

“Elisabeth?” Jan called out to her. But she didn’t respond.

“Elisabeth,” he called out again. Nothing.

He put his hand on her shoulder, but there was no response. He shook her while calling her name, before she finally responded.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I-I’m fine… What’s wrong?”

“You weren’t saying anything. You were just staring into the ball.”

“Yeah. This might sound weird, but I feel like it’s… calling to me?”

That did sound weird to Jan, but at the same time this wasn’t the first time.

“Like how the entrance to this place was calling to you?”

“Yeah, exactly like that…”

She stepped forward, extending her arm towards the crystal ball. When she touched it, there was a bright flash of light that engulfed the room, emanating from the ball. Jan thought he went blind but soon the light subsided, and he could see the crystal ball again.

But this time, an eagle was floating above the crystal ball. Rather than a livingeagle, it seemed like the projection of an eagle. It was made of light that emanated from the crystal ball, and it flickered ever so slightly. The colours of its feathers were clear, but it glowed in a vivid hue of yellow.

“Welcome, humans,” it said.

Jan and Elisabeth took a step back, hidden blades ready and their hands on their guns. But the eagle did not say a word. Jan and Elisabeth looked at each other in confusion, before Jan spoke.

“Hello?”

“Welcome to the Vault.”

“The Vault?”

“Yes.”

“What is the Vault?”

“A weapon created by my master Jupiter eons ago.”

“Jupiter? Like the Roman god Jupiter?”

“I’m sorry. I do not know what Roman means. Jupiter was my master, the Father of Understanding.”

“That sounds Templar-like…,” Elisabeth said.

“Are you Templars?”

“I’m sorry. I do not know what Templars means. My master was a leader of his people.”

“You mean The Ones Who Came Before?”

“Yes.”

“What weapon?”

“A weapon capable of great destruction upon any enemy it is directed against.”

“We can use it against the Templars then,” Elisabeth said.

“Wait, we don’t know how it works.”

Jan and Elisabeth had by then relaxed, sure that this eagle was nothing more than some sort of advanced computer and not a living being.

“How will it work?”

“I’m sorry. It seems my databanks have been damaged. I do not have access to that information.”

“Is the weapon that thing behind you?”

“Yes, that is the weapon.”

“How do you use it?”

“I’m sorry. It seems my databanks have been damaged. I know only that you need the key.”

“What do you mean damaged?”

“It seems I have suffered damage during my eons here, possibly due to decay or natural occurrences. I do not have access to many parts of my memory.”

“Well, that’s just great.”

Jan turned to Elisabeth.

“Well, we found it. The Vault, huh?”

“I honestly wasn’t expecting this. I was expecting weapons like guns or something.”

“This is all beyond me too honestly. But we need to get back to the others and report this to Lutz.”

She nodded.

“So… how do we turn you off?” Jan asked the eagle.

“I will shut down as per your wishes. Thank you.”

“Thank you…?”

The eagle disappeared, and the glow of the crystal ball dissipated. They turned back around and went out of the Vault.

Chapter Text

The Vault – 5 August 1943

Jan stepped into the Vault, passing through the arch at the end of the stairs that led into the main hall. Two Assassins were standing guard on each side of the door, and many more were inside. It was a stark contrast to the cold, eerie silence the Vault was in when he and Elisabeth found it.

Now, more than two dozen Assassins called it home. Many of the rooms on the side corridors had been turned into bedrooms, storerooms, and an arsenal. One room had Neuner in it, still a prisoner. It was bustling with activity. But nowhere more so than the main chamber, where most of the Assassins posted here were working on understanding the weapon that lay ominously at the end of the hall. Jan made his way there.

Most of the Assassins were observing and trying to understand the weapon itself, while Lutz and Caspar were at the crystal ball. The ball had shown them a talking eagle made of light, but when the others arrived there was no such thing. They had tried to touch it, but nothing happened. They found the same result even when Elisabeth was the one who tried to do it. There was a slight flicker when she did, a bit of light that came out of the crystal ball. But in the end, there was nothing.

“Lutz,” Jan called out to him.

Lutz and Caspar turned around and Lutz smiled at him. Jan shook both their hands.

“Still no luck?” he asked them.

“I’m afraid so,” Lutz said, turning back to the crystal ball. “We haven’t been able to see what you saw. We’ve tried everything. Nothing, not even another flicker like that time.”

Lutz turned his face to Caspar.

“Can you handle things here?”

“Yes, Master.”

Lutz nodded and patted his shoulder.

“Jan, come with me.”

Jan nodded and he walked beside Lutz.

“What about Neuner?” he asked.

“He doesn’t know anything either.”

“Are we really sure about that? Maybe he’s not cooperating.”

“Oh, we pressured him. But I think he really doesn’t know. He’s been going through the texts again to try and find something. They all mention the Key. We thought it was the key you found, the one that opened the Vault. But it might be something else entirely.”

They went down one of the corridors, past rows of doorways where the Assassins had made makeshift doors for. The wooden doors were a stark contrast to the metallic walls surrounding them, but they worked. Eventually they reached a room which they entered into. There was a desk, a chair behind it, two chairs in front of it, and several boxes. The wooden furniture and crates, just like the doors, were a stark contrast to the walls.

“Take a seat, Jan.”

Jan nodded and took one of the seats in front of the desk while Lutz sat behind the desk.

“Honestly, this wasn’t how I pictured it was going to play out,” he said to Jan.

“The weapon?”

Lutz nodded.

“I had hoped to use it to defeat our enemies. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate and admire the courage and passion everyone in the Brotherhood is showing these days. But courage and passion can only take you so far. We are outmanned and outgunned. The Templars have the resources of an entire empire at their fingertips, while we are scrounging around like rats at their feet, trying to take what we can. We can only bite their foot once in a while, but we cause no lasting damage. Just a small pain in their foot.”

“Maybe it’s just a matter of time, Lutz. I’m sure the answer’s in those books. Neuner’s going through them again, aren’t they?”

“That’s true. They could very well be there. But they could also not be there.”

Lutz stood up and walked around the room.

“I don’t want to pin our entire hope of victory and freedom on the possibility that it might be in those books.”

“So, what do you want to do? Go on the offensive like we have been?”

“Yes, I was thinking like that.”

“But our missions so far have been trying to find out more information about this place. I’m not even sure where to start if we were to take the offensive again…”

“We’re rats, Jan. If we keep biting at their legs, the best we’ll do is paralyse them from the pain for some time. No, we need something else.”

“Something else?”

“Do you know what separates how we operate from others, Jan?” he asked him as he continued to walk around the room.

“From the Templars?”

“Yes.”

“Our Creed and what we fight for?”

“That’s true, but what I’m asking is more about the practicalities.”

Jan thought for a while before deciding.

“We work in the shadows and have no sort of public façade, while the Templars also work in the shadows but have some sort of public presence.”

“That’s true. But there is another fundamental difference.”

Jan waited for Lutz to continue, which he did after a few moments.

“How we fight. As much as possible, we eschew direct confrontation. We literally prowl around in the shadows. We rely on agility, not strength. We rely on cunning and the power of surprise, not on brute force. We are like a sniper’s rifle, aiming directly at specific targets, not a machine gun. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Jan nodded. Certainly, that is how the Assassins had always operated.

“We don’t beat our enemies to death. We go for the jugular.”

Lutz returned to his desk and put his hands on it, leaning forward on them.

“And that’s exactly what I was thinking we should do.”

“Aiming for the jugular?” Jan asked.

Lutz nodded.

“How to cause the most damage to the Templars with the least amount of effort required. It is a necessity for us. We don’t have the men nor the firepower to fight this war conventionally. We need to resort to more elegant tactics. We’ve lost enough Assassins as it is these past few months. What do you think?”

“I think I agree with that plan. We need to be on the offensive. We can’t lose this momentum, or the Brotherhood will lose heart again.”

“Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.”

Lutz stood up straight and looked Jan straight in the eye.

“I also want you to lead this operation.”

Jan’s breath stopped in its tracks. This was a big operation, and he was trusted to lead it. To be able to derail the Templars’ activities has been his dream since his childhood, and even more so since the deaths of his father and then brother.

“Can I trust you with this?”

“Yes, Lutz. I can.”

Lutz smiled at him warmly.

“Good. Elisabeth and Caspar will be with you as well.”

Jan nodded.

“Who will the target be?”

The smile disappeared from Lutz’s face, and he looked at Jan seriously.

“Adolf Hitler.”

Jan could feel his heartbeat rising, and the blood pumping throughout his body.

Chapter Text

Berlin, Germany – 12 September 1943

Jan drove through the dark streets of Berlin. It was half past nine in the evening, and few people were still out. Jan and Elisabeth had been staying at one of the abandoned Berlin hideouts. He hadn’t met his mother yet, for fear of exposing her to what he was going to do.

They were headed towards the house of a certain Friedrich Olbricht, a lieutenant general in the army with connections to the resistance. This was courtesy of a contact that Lutz knew in the army who was a friend of the Assassins.

They stopped in front of the house which the address pointed at. They waited a few moments, and soon a tall, stern-looking man came out. He had a chiseled jawline and piercing blue eyes. His black hair was cropped neatly, befitting a soldier. He was still in his uniform.

“You must be Heinrich and Anna,” he said, smiling.

“Yes,” Jan said. Lutz had told them to not use their real names.

“Just go into the backyard through that alley in front and park your car there. I’ll wait for you there.”

Jan nodded and followed his instructions. He drove into the alley and into the sparse backyard. There was only one tree, slowly losing its leaves. Jan and Elisabeth stepped out of the car and were met by the man.

“Wolfgang Müller,” he said, as he shook their hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m Heinrich, and this is Anna. The pleasure’s ours.”

“Everyone else is already here, so we can begin,” he said as he led them inside the house.

The house was dark, but they could see light coming from a single room after they entered. They followed Wolfgang there and came upon a dining table, around which several uniformed men sat. Upon their arrival, the men all looked at Jan and Elisabeth.

“Sirs, these are Heinrich and Anna. Our friends in the resistance.”

Another man, eerily similar to Wolfgang in appearance, stood up and smiled warmly at them.

“Nice to meet you. Lieutenant Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg. And these are General Friederich Olbricht and Colonel Henning von Tresckow.”

They all exchanged pleasantries, before Jan and Elisabeth were given seats at the table. Olbricht was a bespectacled man who looked more like a clerk than a soldier, with a receding hairline that hinted at his age. Tresckow on the other hand was bald and had a wide face.

“So, Heinrich, you and your friends are interested in aiding us?” began Tresckow.

“Yes. Hitler is bad for Germany, and we want what’s best for our country.”

“We think so too. Usually, I would not trust you. We don’t even know who you exactly are, though you are at least German. But since Wolfgang here vouches for you, we’ll accept your help. God knows we need as much help as we can get.”

“Thank you. So, what’s the plan?”

The commanders looked at each other.

“A bomb,” answered Stauffenberg.

“A bomb?”

“A timed one, to be precise,” explained Tresckow.

“Why a timed bomb?”

“We went through several ideas. We thought we could shoot him at the army base camp.”

“But it’s said that Hitler wears a bulletproof vest,” explained Olbricht. “So, that one was out of the question.”

“We also considered poison,” continued Tresckow. “But Hitler’s food is specially prepared and tasted. There’s no way for us to put poison anywhere in that process. So, a timed bomb was the answer.”

Jan nodded.

“And what after that?”

“After that, we put into place Operation Valkyrie.”

“Operation Valkyrie?”

“It’s a plan of the Replacement Army, the backup army in Germany. It was originally made for emergencies in case the government was compromised. But we’ve made some changes. After Hitler is killed by the bombing, we will use the Replacement Army to take control of important buildings. Headquarters, radio stations, and the like. And we will take over Germany’s government.”

“And once you’re in power, what will you do then?”

“We’ll sue for peace with the Allies. We should get as much as possible for Germany without having to continue this war. If we continue, we are sure to lose.”

“I see,” Jan said. “We’ll help you with this. When are you planning to execute the assassination?”

“We haven’t decided yet. We need to see what Hitler is planning to do. We’ll plan around that.”

“I will be carrying the bomb,” said Stauffenberg.

“Then we will be with you as much as possible. We’re the backup. If the bomb fails to kill Hitler, we’ll kill him in the chaos of the bombing.”

“Hitler is always under heavy guard,” explained Olbricht. “How do you expect to kill him even in such a situation? And even if you could, how do you expect to get out?”

“Don’t worry about that, general. Leave that to us. We have a set of skills well-suited to this issue. And if need be, we’d give our lives for it.”

“Well, that’s settled then,” announced Stauffenberg. “We’ll kill Hitler with a timed bomb, and our friends here will help us.”

They made their goodbyes, and Wolfgang saw them out back to the car. Jan and Elisabeth went in, saying their goodbyes to Wolfgang before driving away. In the car, the conversation continued with just the two of them.

“What do you think?” Jan asked Elisabeth.

“About?”

“Them.”

“I feel like they’re only marginally better than the Nazis. At least they’re not Templars.”

Jan nodded agreeingly.

“I feel the same way. They seek to preserve this empire Hitler has built but without Hitler. And probably with them in positions of power.”

“Can we really trust them?”

“We have no choice. Lutz also agreed that we should use this opportunity while it exists. With people in the army like this, we can get close to Hitler. Closer than we ever could without.”

“But will Germany really be in better hands after Hitler’s gone?”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that,” Jan said as he turned a corner.

“After all, we’ll eliminate them too.”

Chapter Text

Rastenburg, Königsberg, East Prussia – 20 July 1944

The aeroplane landed without a hitch. As it slowed down on the runway, so too did its rotors start spinning slower and slower until they finally came to a halt. The door opened, and a soldier got out before he stood to the side of the open door and raised his hand in a Nazi salute. A few paces from the door, a car was waiting. Its occupants – the driver and a soldier – stood at the ready on the left side of the car, raising their hands in salute facing the aeroplane. An officer stepped out of the aeroplane.

“It’s nice to be back on solid ground,” he said as he stretched his arms.

Although his comment was lighthearted, his face did not change. It was still grim with a hint of anxiety. His aide-de-camp Werner von Haeften came out after him.

Stauffenberg stepped forward and told the soldiers to be at ease.

“Are you our ride?” Stauffenberg asked them.

“Yes, sir! We’re to escort you to the Wolf’s Lair.”

“Alright, good. Come on, Heinrich. And don’t forget my briefcase.”

Jan stepped out of the aeroplane carrying a brown, nondescript briefcase. Right now, he was not Jan Adler, but rather Heinrich Arnold, a soldier in the German Army and a personal adjutant to Lieutenant Colonel Claus von Stauffenberg. He felt ill at ease in his German Army uniform, as if at any given moment someone would notice his discomfort and find out who he was and what he was doing here. But even after entering the car, nobody batted an eye, and they were off. Caspar, or rather Simon Schwarz, and another Assassin named Andreas was in a separate car following them.

They drove through the village of Rastenburg without a word. Soon, the village houses made way for forest as they got closer to the so-called Wolf’s Lair – Adolf Hitler’s command centre for the Eastern Front. It was a pleasant ride in the open-topped car as the wind hit Jan’s face. Hitler had summoned another military conference, and as Chief of Staff to General Fromm, Stauffenberg was to sit in on the meeting. Jan and the others could not join him inside, but they could wait just outside so that when it happened, they could be the insurance policy.

It, of course, being the bomb inside the very briefcase Jan had on his lap right now.

They passed through several checkpoints until they finally reached the bunker in the middle of the forest. It was heavily guarded, Jan counting no less than a hundred soldiers. And they were just the ones Jan managed to see. The bunker itself was a massive, rectangular structure of stone. It felt like a high wall had suddenly appeared in the middle of the forest.

They exited the car as it came to a stop. Behind them, Caspar and Andreas too were leaving theirs. The five of them began walking towards the stone staircase that led to the entrance of the bunker. There, they were allowed entry and led to the room where the conference would be held. They were early, and there were few attendees yet, so they stayed outside. Caspar and Andreas were a bit behind them, while Stauffenberg spoke with Jan and von Haeften.

“Everything set?” Jan asked him.

“Yes,” he said. His breathing was slightly ragged, and his eyes kept flittering left and right.

“Calm down.”

“I’m calm!”

“No, you’re not. Let’s go over the plan one more time. What’s the plan?”

“I-I’ll bring in the briefcase.”

“And then?”

“I’ll step out to go to the washroom, and with von Haeften’s help prime the two bombs.”

“Good, and then what?”

“I’ll place it as close as I can to him, and then when the phone call comes, I’ll step out.”

“Good.”

“And you’re good on your end, r-right?”

“We’re the insurance policy. If he survives, we’ll make sure to change that.”

They nodded to each other. And soon, the officers began entering the conference room. Jan checked his pocket watch. 12.25 pm. The meeting was about to begin soon. Jan, Caspar, and Andreas waited outside the conference room. Each of them made sure that their weapons were on hand. Jan counted the number of soldiers right outside the conference room. Half a dozen. They would make quick work of that.

At 12.30 pm, Stauffenberg came out of the conference room with the briefcase. He avoided eye contact with Jan as von Haeften went to his side. The two officers made their way to a washroom and disappeared into it.

A few minutes later, a soldier went out of the conference room and went to the washroom. He knocked on the door.

“Sir? Are you alright?”

“Y-yes, I’m fine.”

Jan could just barely hear what they were saying.

“The meeting is about to start.”

“Alright, I’ll be right out.”

The soldier left, and not long afterwards Stauffenberg came out of the washroom with his briefcase. Once he was back in the conference room, von Haeften came out of the washroom and went towards the Assassins.

“Everything went fine?” Jan asked.

Von Haeften was jittery. Sweat was falling down his face. Jan didn’t know whether they were hot or cold, seeing as the day was a very hot one.

“There was a little problem,” he whispered back. “We didn’t have time to arm the second bomb.”

Damn it! Jan thought to himself. With one less bomb, the chances of success were reduced.

“The first bomb?”

Von Haeften nodded.

“That one’s fine. It’s inside now.”

“Well, we better hope that’s enough to do it.”

A few minutes passed, and a soldier came through and knocked on the conference door. He was promptly let in, and a few seconds later he came out with Stauffenberg, who nodded at von Haeften and the Assassins. Von Haeften followed him, and so did Jan, while Caspar and Andreas waited behind.

“It’s ready?” Jan asked him as he matched Stauffenberg’s pace.

“Yes. I placed it under the table near him.”

They went into a room where the soldier left them, and Stauffenberg took the planned call. After the call, they went outside towards Stauffenberg’s car.

And then there was an explosion.

Everyone in the vicinity turned their attention towards the source of the sound. A thick, grey smoke was coming out of the conference building. There were people thrown out of the windows, and wood splinters all over the ground.

“Yes!” said Stauffenberg, positively beaming with happiness. “We did it.”

“Now, wait. Hold on,” Jan cautioned. “We need to confirm it.”

“There’s nothing to confirm. Look at it. How could he have survived that?” he said as he and von Haeften entered the car.

“Where are you going?”

“Staying here will just get us caught. Come on, get your friends and get in.”

“We need to confirm it first. We can’t just leave!”

“Suit yourself! I’m not waiting here just to be caught. I need to be in Berlin as soon as possible. Are you and your friends coming or not?”

“Fine. Go. We’ll confirm it and catch up to you somehow.”

Shrugging, Stauffenberg told von Haeften to step on the gas and the car left. Jan watched it leave then turned around and headed towards the conference building once more. That’s when gunshots began.

Jan ran back inside, where there was an intense gunfight. Through the smoke and gunfire, Jan just barely made out Andreas. He was shooting from behind a corner, while three soldiers were shooting back. The three soldiers had their backs to Jan. He took a breath and took out his two handguns.

And he shot two of them in the back. The other soldier only realised what was happening before Jan put a bullet in his head.

Andreas came out of the corner ready to shoot with a rifle he was holding, but Jan held his hands up.

“It’s me!” Jan shouted. Andreas lowered his rifle.

“Where’s Caspar?”

“He’s chasing him.”

“Him?”

“Hitler! The bastard survived!”

Chapter Text

Wolf’s Lair, Königsberg, East Prussia – 20 July 1944

Jan and Andreas ran through the dimly lit hallways and reached Caspar just as he was taking cover inside a room. Down the hallway, three soldiers were shooting at him. Jan and Caspar shot back at them, forcing them into cover and allowing Jan to reach Caspar’s side.

“What’s the situation?” he asked Caspar as Andreas kept the pressure.

“Hitler’s escaping down that hallway! We need to get through these bastards, or he’ll escape.”

Jan leaned out and scanned the situation in front of him. The three soldiers were each inside a room, hiding behind the doors just like the three Assassins. Two on Jan and Caspar’s side and one on Andreas’, who was still shooting to keep up the pressure. Just as Jan finished his scanning, Andreas was forced to take cover as he reloaded, and the situation reversed as the three soldiers started shooting at both sides of the hallway.

“We have no time,” Jan declared. “We have to go on the offensive. When they start reloading, on my call we all go out and start shooting. Make sure your clips are full.”

Caspar and Andreas nodded before reloading their weapons. The shots were still coming, and Jan was biding his time. Then he heard the characteristic click of the rifles as they ran out of bullets.

“Now!” he shouted.

All at once, the three Assassins came out of cover and started shooting as they advanced down the hallway. One soldier was killed immediately as he was reloading, while the other two quickly ducked into cover. The Assassins continued their advance, quickly covering the distance between them and the soldiers. They kept firing, making sure the soldiers could not come out. When they were close enough, the Assassins took out the soldiers with their blades, making quick work of them.

They sped through the hallway. The closer they got to the door, the louder the sound of gunshots. Jan’s guess was confirmed when they burst out of the door, as almost a dozen Assassins came out of the forest and were shooting at the surviving, disoriented soldiers in the compound. Elisabeth’s team had come.

Caspar and Andreas immediately took cover and began shooting. Jan stood at the threshold of the doorway for a few moments, scanning the scene through the bullets and the smoke. A group of soldiers dressed differently from the rest was rushing through the battlefield towards a waiting car. In the midst of it, Jan could just make out his target.

“He’s escaping!” he shouted to Casper and Andreas. He didn’t wait for them as he jumped over the railing and ran straight towards Hitler. As he ran, he aimed his gun straight at them, hitting a few soldiers in the back.

When the soldiers realised what was happening, four of them turned back and began shooting at him. The bullets whizzled past him, grazing his arms and cheek, but he barely felt the pain as the adrenaline rushed through him.

He reached them and, to get past, engaged his blades. He avoided the close-range shot the soldier closest to him attempted and came in swinging from below with his blades aimed directly at his neck. He buried it deep and with all his force pulled it out as violently as possible. He pushed the dying soldier away, shifting his focus to the next soldier. He pushed the soldier’s rifle out of the way and stabbed him deep in the stomach, twisting his blade and causing the soldier to cry out in pain. He pulled out his blade and pushed him down too, before pivoting quickly and taking out his handgun. He shot the next soldier point blank in the forehead, sending him falling backwards with a hole in his head.

But he was distracted, and the final soldier hit him in the cheek with the butt of his rifle. He fell to the ground, his vision blurry and the side of his head hurting like hell. Instinctively, he rolled away just in time to avoid another hit. The distance between them was just enough for him to recover, and he was soon back on his feet. The soldier shot at him, but Jan easily dodged the bullet. He then rushed at him, trying to get his blade to go straight into the soldier’s stomach. But the soldier sidestepped, and instead he crashed into him, sending them both tumbling into the dirt.

Jan recovered first. As he lifted his head up, kneeling on the ground, he saw with despair that the car had just started moving away. He raised his gun to shoot at it, but the soldier had recovered and pulled his hand up, sending his shot flying into the sky. The soldier was now trying to choke him, and Jan clawed at him, but he couldn’t get his blades close enough to the soldier’s face. Finally, Jan pulled out all his strength and bent over forwards, sending the soldier over his head and falling onto the ground. The force of the blow forced the soldier to let go of Jan’s neck, and he took this chance to plunge his hidden blade into the side of the soldier’s neck.

Jan stood up and watched as the car left the compound and started its journey away from the base. But at that moment, the revving engine of another car came from behind him. Instinctively, Jan dodged the car as it came. It stopped in front of him and revealed Elisabeth in the driver’s seat. It was one of those open-aired, four-wheeled Kübelwagen.

“Get in!” she shouted as she opened the passenger door.

Jan wasted no time and hopped into the passenger’s seat. Elisabeth stepped on the gas as the battle between the Assassins and the garrison raged around them.

“They won’t be able to hold the soldiers for long,” Jan said to her.

She made no reply, focusing her entire mind on rushing through the forest road. Soon, Hitler’s car appeared in front of them. It was slightly slower than theirs, and they were gaining. Jan stood up in his seat and aimed his gun at the car. He started shooting, aiming at the wheels to try and make it crash. It was difficult to shoot while the wind was rushing against him. The car being unstable certainly didn’t help. A soldier popped out of the window and began shooting at Jan, forcing him to duck and go back into his seat.

“I can’t get a shot,” he told Elisabeth as they ducked.

One bullet hit the front windshield but missed Elisabeth by a few centimetres.

“Can you get closer?” he asked.

“I think so. What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see.”

The soldier kept shooting back at them. Elisabeth went left and right, avoiding the shots. But they were slowly gaining. The shots were getting more accurate the closer they got. But the same could be said for Jan. He leaned out of the car and shot at the soldier. He couldn’t kill him, but he managed to shoot him in the shoulder. The soldier winced in pain and retreated into the car.

“Step on it, Elisabeth!”

Elisabeth practically kicked the pedal and sent the car rushing forward until it was right next to Hitler’s car. Jan looked inside the car. In front, the two soldiers were looking at him. In the back, one was grasping at his shoulder while Hitler’s eyes widened when he saw the Assassins. Jan took out his gun, aimed it straight at the driver, and shot. The shot hit the driver straight in the face, sending blood splattering over the front windshield and onto the soldier in the passenger seat. The driver’s head fell onto the steering wheel.

“They’re crashing!” Jan shouted at Elisabeth, smiling excitedly.

His smile faded when the car, out of control and the steering wheel hit by the dead soldier, rammed into their own car. Hitler’s car hit their car’s rear side and sent the car spiraling out of control. Elisabeth tried to take control of the car, but there was nothing she could do. Jan held on for dear life until the car finally settled, its rear end crashing into a tree. They were now facing the road, and on the other side Hitler’s car had met a similar end. Its front was busted, almost cut in half by a tree. Smoke was coming out of its engine.

Jan and Elisabeth got out of the car and approached them cautiously, guns held up and ready to shoot. But they were unprepared for the two soldiers on the side of the car facing them suddenly coming out, guns blazing. The hail of bullets forced them to run back and take cover behind the trees. They couldn’t do anything for some time as the soldiers kept the pressure on them. One of them would keep firing while the other reloaded.

“Go, go!” one of them shouted.

“We can’t let them get away!” Jan shouted to Elisabeth, who nodded back at him.

When a short lull came up, they wasted no time and came out shooting. This took the soldier who remained behind by surprise, forcing him to take cover. Jan and Elisabeth moved forward like this. Jan kept the pressure as Elisabeth reloaded, and vice versa. Jan looked through the smoke and foliage. He saw Hitler escaping with the other soldier deeper into the forest, behind the totaled car.

“He’s escaping!” Jan shouted.

At this, the remaining soldier fired several shots at the Assassins, forcing them to stop and duck. He used that chance to escape, going deeper into the forest and following Hitler. Once the shots stopped coming, the two of them were about to run into the forest when the sound of another car came from down the road. It was another Kübelwagen. Elisabeth squinted her eyes to see who they were.

“Verdammt, reinforcements,” Elisabeth spat.

She turned around and pushed Jan towards the soldier running into the forest. Jan hesitated, resisting her push.

“Go! I’ll handle the reinforcements. You get the bastard!”

Jan still hesitated, looking alternately at Elisabeth, the reinforcements, and the soldiers disappearing into the forest. But with that characteristic intensity of hers, Elisabeth looked into Jan’s eyes and, like fire howling at him, shouted for him to move. As soon as he started moving, Elisabeth took cover and shot at the car coming down the road. The car stopped, and they disembarked, using the car and nearby trees as cover.

But Jan had diverted his full attention to the forest. The foliage was thick. Trees and branches made it harder for him to see the receding backs of the soldier. But he was faster. Not because he was much stronger than him. But something was pushing him. This was going to be the end. With this, all would end. And that expectation was making him nervous but was pushing adrenaline throughout his bloodstream.

In no time, he had caught up to the soldier. He realised this, and he would stop once in a while to turn around and shoot. But the Assassin was far too quick for him. He darted from rock to tree, cover to cover. The soldier was becoming more frantic as he closed the distance. He shot at him, but the bullet hit a tree squarely in the middle of its trunk. From behind it, Jan came out, like a tiger pouncing on its prey. He jumped into the air, his two blades engaged and ready to reach their target.

And in a single moment, it ended. Jan fell onto the soldier, his blades finding their mark on their neck. Without looking down, he pulled the blades out and kept running. Neither Hitler nor the soldier guarding him were to be seen, but the trail of jarring red, crimson blood on greenery led his path. He wasted no time, moving through the undergrowth like a predator stalking its prey.

It eventually led to a clearing where Hitler and the soldier were moving. They weren’t running but were heaving. Jan took out his gun and moved forward, but he broke a fallen branch with his foot. The noise prompted Hitler and the soldier to look back. The soldier shouted for his leader to keep moving as he himself took cover behind a rock. He opened fire on Jan, forcing Jan to duck for cover behind a tree. He couldn’t rush forward like before. There were no trees between the edge of the clearing where he was and where the soldier was taking cover.

But he couldn’t let this chance slip. As the shooting continued, bullets hitting tree trunks and leaves around him, he steeled himself. He reloaded the half-empty cartridge. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He waited until the soldier was forced to reload.

And then he made a run for it.

He closed the distance as much as he could. All the while, he used both hands to shoot his gun at the soldier to try and hit him. The soldier was forced to take cover behind the rock. Jan had only eight rounds before he had to reload. He had to keep up the pressure, but at the same time not to waste his entire cartridge before he could reach the soldier. He shot at intervals he hoped were enough.

But it wasn’t enough. In between his shots, the soldier managed to get out of cover and shoot him. The bullet went straight through his left shoulder. There was a sharp pain for a moment, but the adrenaline in his body didn’t allow him to feel much pain. It pushed him further, and before he knew it, he was in front of the rock, jumping over it, and landing on the soldier. His blade went through the bottom of the soldier’s mouth. He quickly took it out and ran after Hitler, who was limping.

It didn’t take long before he reached him. He shot him in the other leg and forced him to a crawl. Except, he didn’t crawl. He lay on the ground, propping himself up with his arm as he grabbed at the wound in his thigh. And he looked at Jan, who came towards him with cold, steely eyes.

“No more running,” Jan said as he approached him, gun trained on him.

He knelt down in front of him, and took his gun away, throwing it onto the ground. And then he put the barrel of his gun on Hitler’s forehead.

“Everything you’ve done has led to this moment,” Jan said to him. “How does it feel? Dying alone in a forest so far from home? Do you regret your actions now?”

Hitler said nothing and looked straight into his eyes.

“Say something!” he shouted at him, digging the barrel deeper into his forehead.

But he said nothing.

“Fine. Have it your way. No last words for you. Not that anyone would remember it.”

He put his finger on the trigger.

“Hold it right there, you scum!”

The voice came from behind. Jan turned his head around.

A group of soldiers – three of them – were standing not too far from the edge of the clearing. They were bloodied, but so was Elisabeth who was being forced to her knees between them. She had bruises and cuts on her face, and her lip was bleeding. Her hands were tied behind her back, and they held her up by her hair. The pain was evident on her face.

“Wouldn’t want your girlfriend to die, would you?” said the soldier holding her up as he put the barrel of his gun to the side of her head.

Jan grimaced. “You bastards…”

“Don’t listen to him, Jan! Kill him!”

“Go ahead,” the soldier said. “Do it. I dare you.”

“Do it!” Elisabeth shouted through gritted teeth.

Flames were burning inside Jan. This close, he thought. We were this close! He looked at Hitler, who was now grinning despite the gun to his head, and then at Elisabeth. He kept doing it.

“What’ll it be?!” shouted the soldier as he dug the barrel deeper into her head.

“Forget about me, Jan! Kill him!” Elisabeth shouted, but one of the soldiers hit her head with the back of his rifle to shut her up.

“Fine!” Jan said. “Get up!” he shouted at Hitler as he dragged him up.

He held Hitler by the arm while keeping the barrel of his gun to his head.

“Release her,” Jan said to them.

“Fat chance. You first.”

“How can I trust you?”

“You can’t.”

The two soldiers laughed.

“But do you really have that luxury?”

Jan grimaced.

“I’ll move towards you with this bastard. When I let him walk towards you, you’ll let her walk. Or else.”

The soldier thought for a moment.

“Fine,” he said.

Jan forced Hitler, whose legs were bleeding, to move forward. They moved slowly, nearing the edge of the crossing. Jan stopped about seven paces from the soldiers.

“I’m letting him go,” he announced.

The soldier nodded and forced Elisabeth to stand up. She was delirious from the hit from the rifle and could barely stand.

“You’re lucky, you bastard. But we’ll get you next time,” Jan said as he pushed Hitler towards the soldiers.

“There won’t be a next time… Assassin,” he said back in reply.

The soldiers pushed Elisabeth forward, who wobbled like she was going to fall at any moment. One soldier kept his rifle on Jan, while another kept his on Elisabeth. They walked slowly. Elisabeth could just make out Hitler passing by her with blood streaking down her face.

“No…,” she muttered.

The hostages each reached their respective targets at about the same time. Jan quickly embraced her and checked her wounds. Nothing major, he thought. She’ll recover.

“Look, she really is his girlfriend!” taunted the soldier.

“Then die together.”

They started opening fire. Jan quickly took Elisabeth into his arms and ran back. He felt bullets whizzle past, some grazing him. But in the adrenaline of the moment, he didn’t feel the pain. He quickly took cover behind the rock the soldier guarding Hitler had been using as cover. His body was still there.

The shooting continued for a while, but then there was a pause.

“Nice try, Assassins,” shouted Hitler. “But you have only exposed yourselves. Even now, your friends must be doing something in Berlin right? Well, you’ll see what happens.”

Jan took out his gun and leaned out of cover, trying to shoot them. But they were shooting at him before he could, and he was forced to retreat back into cover. The shots slowly became less accurate and eventually stopped. Jan wanted to chase after them, but Elisabeth was in no condition to do so. With the adrenaline gone, he started to feel the pain in his sides and shoulders. But he paid no attention to his own pain, instead taking Elisabeth’s head into his hands.

“Elisabeth, are you okay?”

“I’m fine…” she muttered. “Why didn’t you kill him? I would’ve gladly died for the Brotherhood…” she said, still half-delirious.

Jan sighed a breath of relief and held onto Elisabeth tightly. He bent down and held back his tears, filled with worry.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose any more people.”

Chapter Text

Berlin – 23 July 1944

The soldier came out of the dark alley and stood at its entrance. He looked left and right, but the night street was deserted. He took out a pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and brought it to his mouth. Then he took out the lighter and lit it. He sucked it, and then blew a puff of smoke.

Then a sound came from the right. He turned his head and instinctively grabbed his rifle. The street was so dark he could barely see. Something had fallen, but he saw no one. He threw away his cigarette and unslung his rifle. He took several steps towards the object. Even when he came close, he still couldn’t see what it was. He prodded it with his rifle. Still not sure what it was, he bent over and touched the object. It was just a rock.

And then he heard something much bigger falling from the sky, before a blade lodged itself in the back of his neck. An arm came up below him to catch him from falling. He wanted to shout, to scream. But the blade in his neck meant no sound came out. He felt life draining out of his body, and soon it was over. He stopped moving, and his body became still.

Jan set down the corpse and pulled it discreetly into the shade of the storefront. Blood was dripping onto the pavement, but it was too dark for anyone to see. He let the corpse rest against the door and made his way to the opening of the alley. He hid behind the corner and waited. Then a thud came, quickly followed by a muffled scream.

Jan peeked around the corner just as Elisabeth pulled out her bloodied blade from the soldier’s neck and was standing back up. Jan went into the alley and checked the soldier’s neck for a pulse. Satisfied there was none, they dragged the corpse out of the way.

Jan and Elisabeth looked at each other and nodded. Quietly, they took out their guns and took their positions on each side of the door. Jan, who was closer to the doorknob, slowly opened the door. It didn’t creak, and as it opened it revealed the faint light coming from underground. There was nobody in sight as Jan took in the narrow room. The wooden board covering the staircase had been lifted and was resting against the wall to the side.

Carefully, Jan entered the room with Elisabeth trailing behind him. He turned around to Elisabeth and put his fingers to his mouth. Elisabeth nodded, and Jan turned his attention back to the staircase. He descended into the underground, taking one step at a time so that the wooden boards would not creak. Once he reached the bottom, he hugged the wall. He leaned out of the corner slightly and saw three men standing in the hallway. Behind them, the path branched left and right, each with a door.

“There’s three of them there,” Jan whispered to Elisabeth.

Elisabeth was looking down, her eyebrows curled in concentration.

“What’s wrong?” Jan asked her.

“There’s four more inside the room on the right.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do.”

Jan nodded. He had got used to Elisabeth’s instincts, and they had never been wrong.

“The three soldiers are facing each other. I don’t think there’s any way to do this stealthily. So, we move in quick. Do you know where they are?”

Elisabeth nodded.

“I’ll take out the two on the left. You take out the one on the right.”

With that, Jan turned his attention back to the soldiers.

“On go. Three… two… one… go!”

As one, the two Assassins swooped out of cover. Jan made a beeline for the first soldier on the left and quickly stabbed him in the neck before he had even turned his head. He wasted no time dwelling on his action and quickly spun around before embedding his blade in the neck of the soldier standing to his left, who was just about to unsling his rifle. Jan took out his blades and let their lifeless bodies collapse onto the floor. Behind him, Elisabeth was holding the other soldier’s body as it slid down, leaving him in a sitting position leaning against the wall. A vertical line of blood was drawn from where he was stabbed to where he was sitting now. Jan couldn’t believe their luck, being able to take them out silently.

But when the door opened and showed a soldier with his rifle at the ready, he knew it was wrong. Jan and Elisabeth got out of the way just as the soldier opened fire, hitting nothing but the wall. The soldier ejected the empty cartridge and walked out, aiming at Jan who had rolled to the left deeper into the hallway. But Jan, kneeling, shot at him first. Three bullets found their mark. The soldier spasmed as he dropped his rifle, fell backwards towards the door, and died. Another soldier came out and met the same fate. Jan took the opportunity to replace his magazine when another came out.

It wasn’t just a soldier, but rather their sergeant. He held in front of him in a chokehold an Assassin. The Assassins had bruises and blood all over his face. The sergeant held a gun next to his head.

“Go on, shoot!” shouted the sergeant. “He’ll get it.”

Jan kept his finger on the trigger but did not shoot, nor did he lower his gun. Slowly, the sergeant and his Assassin hostage walked out of the room. Behind him came another soldier. They walked towards Jan, reaching the intersection.

It was at that moment that Elisabeth sprang into action. She jumped on the sergeant – who seemed to be unaware of her presence – and the hostage Assassin, sending all of them crashing into the wall. Jan unloaded several shots directly into the soldier who was walking behind them, killing him instantly. Elisabeth took care of the sergeant with a simple stab in the neck. The hostage Assassin, now freed, was on his knees and coughing blood onto the floor. Jan helped him up.

“There, there, brother. You’re safe now.”

The Assassin hit his own chest several times as if to push out everything he had experienced.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice weak. “Did you come from Essen?”

“Sort of,” Jan answered him. “We are based there. But we were the team sent to assassinate Hitler. The name’s Jan, and she’s Elisabeth.”

“My name’s Wolfgang,” he said.

Elisabeth had gone into the room from which the sergeant and Wolfgang had come out. Curious why she was still there, Jan went after her. The room was dark and stank of blood and death. On two sides of the room were beds where the Assassins would sleep when in need of rest, while in the middle right under the ceiling lamp was a single wooden chair. But what caught the two Assassins’ attention the most were the three dead Assassins sitting against the far wall.

“They never broke,” Wolfgang said. “That’s why they suffered.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t come in time,” Jan said, his voice trailing. “If only…”

“It is what it is,” Wolfgang said. He stood at the doorway, looking down, averting his eyes from the bodies of his fallen brothers and sister.

“What’s in the other room?” Elisabeth asked as she turned to leave the room.

“That’s where we did our meetings and planning. I don’t know what the soldiers were using it for.”

“I’ll go check,” Elisabeth said as she went out of the room.

Jan and Wolfgang went outside, where Wolfgang sat on the floor, resting after his ordeal.

“So, what’s the situation in Berlin?” Jan asked him as he sat down next to him.

“Chaos,” he began. “The coup failed immediately. It was crushed by the next day. And then they started hunting us down. They came at us with such force, so suddenly, and at once that we had no time to respond. I have no idea how the other cells are doing. We haven’t had contact with them since two days ago.”

“They came last night. No warning. The door just burst open, and they came in. There were more men here than now. The others must’ve left.”

“Well, you’re safe now,” Jan reassured him. “We’ll get you out of here. Somewhere safe. We don’t know where yet, but we’ll figure it out. And we’ll take our fallen brothers and sister with us.”

“Thank you,” Wolfgang said to him.

The door to the other room was still open, and Elisabeth appeared in the doorway, an expression of concern on her face.

“Jan."

“What’s up?” he said as he stood up and headed towards Elisabeth.

“They set up their radio in here,” Elisabeth said as she led Jan in. “Looks like they’re talking about their next target.”

Jan entered the room, which was empty except for a map of Berlin hung on the wall and a table in the middle with several chairs around it. On the table was a radio set emitting the static-laden noises characteristic of radio communications. Jan and Elisabeth took a seat, listening to the radio.

“Send two squads to…”

Jan immediately stood up, kicking away the chair in the process.

“Do you know that address?” Elisabeth asked, in shock.

“Yes,” he answered as he slowly stepped back. “That’s my home. They’re coming after my mother.”

Chapter Text

Berlin – 24 July 1944

Jan and Elisabeth peered down from the rooftop, lying down to keep their silhouettes as small as possible against the rising sun. The area in front of Jan’s family bakery was closed off. There were three military trucks on the street, and dozens of soldiers on patrol. Curious and concerned neighbours watched from their homes or attempted to get close, but those that did were blocked by the soldiers.

Two soldiers were guarding the door, which was open. Soldiers were coming and going from the bakery. Jan counted eighteen soldiers outside, including the ones guarding the door. Half were busy blocking the road, while the other half were just loitering around in front of the bakery or making the rounds. His mother was nowhere to be seen.

“She must still be inside,” Jan said to Elisabeth. “We need to get her out of there. Let’s go.”

Jan was completely focused on the situation, his senses dulled to everything else.

“Jan, I know this is important and I’m with you. But we need to really think this through. There’re more than a dozen soldiers down there, and there’s probably more inside. We can’t go in guns blazing. Our survival isn’t guaranteed, let alone your mother’s. For all we know, she could get caught in the crossfire.”

“What do you suggest we do then?” Jan asked as he turned to her, the frustration and impatience clear on his face.

“We need reinforcements. We should try and gather more of our brothers and sisters.”

“That’d take too much time. Who knows when they’ll take her out of there? And if they do, we won’t be able to find her. We need to act now.”

Elisabeth pondered for a moment, and then nodded to herself.

“You’re right. Do you have a plan?”

Jan was silent.

“I was sort of hoping you’d have an idea…” Jan muttered.

Elisabeth sighed.

“If only we’d got here sooner… Or could seven wait until it was dark. Our every move here is exposed…”

The two of them went silent for some time, wracking their brains trying to figure out how to get inside.

“Jan, is there a back door?”

“Yes. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“It’s probably guarded. But maybe not as much as the front road. Come on.”

They descended from the rooftop, making their way down the wall of the building into an empty alleyway. They pulled back their hoods and went out into the street. They went wide around the street to avoid the soldiers and went into the first alley they saw, not unlike the alley they dropped into. They put on their hoods and climbed up the wall, reaching the roofs once again. Once above, they went across the roofs towards Jan’s house.

The roof was angled, so that the front half sloped down towards the street while the back half sloped down towards the backyard. Jan and Elisabeth made sure they were crawling on the back half to avoid being seen by the soldiers. Reaching roughly the middle of the roof, they took in the view.

Right below them was Jan’s backyard. It was nothing special, just grass surrounded on three sides by a tall, wooden fence. On those same three sides were the backyards of the other townhouses. From where they were lying, they saw no soldiers in the open area of the backyard. They peered directly down, towards the backdoor which two soldiers were guarding, one on each side.

Jan and Elisabeth looked at each other, nodded understandingly, and brought themselves to a crouch. They engaged their hidden blades. They counted 3… 2... 1…

And then they jumped, one soldier each. They sank their blades into the soldiers’ necks, killing them silently. There was little noise, except for the thud when the soldiers’ bodies fell onto the grass. They pulled out their blades and dragged the lifeless soldiers a bit farther from the door, then took their places on each side. Jan hesitated to open the door. They didn’t know whether there was somebody waiting for them or not. Elisabeth closed her eyes and focused.

“What is it?” Jan asked her.

After a few seconds, she opened her eyes.

“There are ten soldiers inside. One roaming the hallway, near us. Two are in the kitchen. Four are upstairs, rummaging through the rooms, I think. Three are in the living room, with your mother.”

Jan nodded. He thanked whatever God existed for Elisabeth’s sixth sense.

“Is the soldier roaming the hallway facing us?”

Elisabeth closed her eyes again.

“Yes, but he’s walking. He’s either going to go outside, or he’ll take a right under the stairs and be on the left of the door. I’ll tell you which when it happens.”

Jan nodded and waited. The footsteps, though faint, were audible. They slightly got louder as the soldier came near. Jan readied his blade. If the soldier opened the door, he’d stab him right in the neck then and there and catch his corpse. But he didn’t, and the soldier took a right under the stairs.

“Now!” Elisabeth said to him.

Jan quickly opened the door and rushed through it. Before the soldier could even respond, Jan’s blade had found its mark. The soldier soon turned into a lifeless corpse, and Jan let him down gently onto the floor. Blood dripped onto the old wooden floor. Jan remembered the last time there was blood on the floor in the house, that night they call Kristallnacht when his father was killed trying to help Jews under attack by the Nazis.

He placed those thoughts to the side as Elisabeth entered and closed the door quietly behind her. The doorway that led to the kitchen was right before the turn they were in. The two of them made their way to the edge of the doorway, hugging the wall as to not be seen.

“Where are they facing?” Jan asked Elisabeth in hushed tones.

“They’re by the sink, facing each other.”

That would be a problem, Jan thought. Going in from the doorway, the sink would be on their right, in the direction of 2 o’clock. So, if Jan made any move, the soldier facing the wall with the doorway would see him. He would have to be really quick. But there was also the problem of noise. There was a doorway connecting the kitchen to the living room, where three more soldiers and his mother were.

“What about the soldiers in the living room? Do they have their backs to the doorway to the kitchen?” Jan asked.

Elisabeth closed her eyes and concentrated.

“Yes, yes they are.”

That was one problem out of the way, he thought. But the problem of noise was still there. For some moments, he thought about it. But time wasn’t on their side. Any time now, soldiers could come in from the front door. They would immediately see the two Assassins hugging the wall, and they should shoot. And their mission – and their lives – could end then and there.

“I guess there’s no other way,” Jan whispered to himself.

He turned to Elisabeth.

“There’s only one way we can do this. And that’s to attack both groups of soldiers at once.”

“What? I get attacking the ones in the kitchen, but the living room? There are three of them, Jan. Will you be able to do it quickly enough that they won’t be able to make any noise?”

“I don’t know, but just standing here isn’t going to do anything. This is the only thing I could think of.”

“How about we make some noise, draw some of them away?” Elisabeth asked.

But Jan shook his head. “Too many variables. We don’t know if only one from the kitchen would go, or only one from the living room. Besides, where would they go? If they go towards the back door, they’ll see the dead soldier lying there.” He pointed at the corpse across them, under the stairs. “This might be our only option.”

“It’s risky.”

“I know. But there’s no other way.”

Elisabeth sighed. “Alright. Let’s do it. I’ll handle the soldiers in the kitchen. I’ll leave the living room to you.”

Jan nodded. “We’ll have to be quick. I can’t go to the living room doorway without the soldiers in the kitchen seeing me. So, when I move, you have to move too. From the doorway, I’ll immediately go into the living room. Ready?”

Elisabeth nodded. Satisfied, Jan turned around and prepared himself. He engaged his blades and crouched like a professional runner about to start.

And then off he went. He passed the kitchen doorway. He had no idea whether the two soldiers there saw him or not. He made his way to the living room doorway and entered it, as fast as lightning. The three soldiers there had just barely turned their heads when Jan came upon them. The two closest to him died immediately. He pounced on them like a tiger would its prey, bringing them down to the ground right in front of his mother. He heard the crack of a shot and immediately felt a searing pain in his shoulder. He rolled towards the last soldier and stabbed him several times in the stomach. The soldier grunted with each thrust, and soon he fell back, blood spilling out of his guts at an alarming rate.

Elisabeth appeared in the doorway. “Jan, watch out!”

Jan turned around to see the soldiers looking at them through the window, their guns raised. He only had time to run towards his mother and push her onto the ground, using his own body as a shield, before the bullets came through the window. His mother was screaming in fear, as he tried to keep her body as low as possible on the ground. Then Jan heard Elisabeth shoot back at them. For a moment, the bullets abated as the soldiers took cover. Jan pulled himself up slightly and quickly checked his mother for any injuries. Thankfully, there were none.

“Jan?” she said, through rugged breath and on the verge of breaking into tears.

“Mom,” he replied. “Stay low and take cover, okay?”

He pulled her up slightly and brought her to the corner. She made herself as small a target as possible, hugging her knees and lowering her neck in between her legs. Then Jan went under the window, taking out his own gun.

“Elisabeth!” Jan shouted.

“What?” she shouted back from the hallway.

“Let’s take turns!” he shouted as he heard her shoot. “You shoot! I shoot while you take cover and reload, and so on!”

“Alright!”

Elisabeth emptied her magazine. Jan heard the screams of some of the soldiers as they got shot. And then the shots stopped, before Elisabeth shouted from the hallway.

“Empty!”

On cue, Jan leaned out of the shattered living room window and shot back. He didn’t have much time to think. His mind went on autopilot, going from one target to the next. For each target, he unloaded one shot first. If the target fell or disappeared, he immediately moved to another target. He kept doing this until his own magazine was out.

“Empty!” he shouted, before Elisabeth continued in his stead.

This continued for a good while, until Elisabeth changed what she shouted.

“I’m out of ammo!”

Without immediately replying, Jan stood up and kept shooting. As he did so, his hand went to his pocket. He only had one magazine left too. When his ammunition ran out, he crouched. Elisabeth was already next to him, clutching the rifle of one of the dead soldiers. She immediately leaned out and started shooting.

“Shit!” she shouted as she shot. “They’re coming in through the front door, I can’t shoot them!”

“I got it!” Jan said as he put in his last magazine. He rushed to the entryway and aimed his gun straight at the door, hiding behind a cabinet.

When the door opened to reveal a soldier, Jan shot him. It did not kill him, but he fell back shouting in pain. The other soldiers took cover on either side of the door. Alternately, they leaned out and shot at him. In between, Jan would come out of cover to try and shoot back at them. Every time, he counted how many bullets he had left. He couldn’t keep this up.

A head appeared. Purely by instinct, he shot the soldier straight in the head. That left one soldier, who appeared and shot several times at Jan, but the cabinet protected him. As the click signalling that the soldier had spent all his bullets came, Jan immediately came up and shot him. He emptied the rest of his magazine on the last soldier.

“I’m out!” Jan shouted as he ran back into the living room.

Elisabeth was firing from the window as he came in. Jan went to the dead soldiers lying in the middle of the room. He took one of their rifles and scrounged up the ammunition they had on them, before running back to Elisabeth’s side. Armed once again, the two of them went back to their previous routine. Elisabeth shoots, takes cover as she reloads, Jan shoots, takes cover as he reloads.

But then more trucks came. More soldiers came out. The hail of bullets from their enemies increased. And eventually, they were forced to take cover as the pressure was too much.

“What do we do, Jan? We can’t stay here.”

“Maybe the back… but we’d have nowhere to run. Mother can’t climb up like we do.”

As he was thinking, the soldiers on the other side were shouting something. Right after that, a grenade came hurtling through the window.

“Shit!” Jan shouted as he instinctively ran towards his mother. He put himself over his mother, shielding her from the blast.

And it almost ripped his ear drums out. He felt pain in his back. Shrapnel, he thought. But it didn’t feel too serious.

“Jan, are you okay?!” his mother asked, overwhelmed with concern and panic.

“I’m fine, mother…” he said, pulling himself up.

Lots of footsteps. Orders being shouted.

“Hands in the air! Now!” belted the officer who had just entered the room. Six soldiers to his left and right had their guns aimed straight at Jan, his mother, and Elisabeth.

Jan cursed himself under his breath. He stood in front of his mother protectively, shielding her from them. A thousand thoughts ran through his head. What should he do? What could he do? He scanned the room, each soldier, Elisabeth who was recovering in the other corner. But it was all clear to him. There was nothing he could do. But still, he grasped at each possibility in his mind, knowing that most of them would result in his death. And worse, the deaths of Elisabeth and his mother.

“That’s quite enough, Jan,” said someone coming from the hallway.

A voice he knew.

A voice he knew very, very well.

And then he came out of the hallway, right into Jan’s line of sight.

Jan’s jaw dropped in shock.

“Uncle Rudolf?”

Chapter Text

Berlin, Nazi Germany – 24 July 1944

Uncle Rudolf entered the room. His steps were slow and deliberate. He took his time walking behind the soldiers, going around them to stand in front of them, and in front of Jan, mother, and Elisabeth. Elisabeth had by then recovered, and was sitting near mother, clutching her wounded arm. Uncle Rudolf eyed them one by one.

“Rudolf?” Jan’s mother asked in disbelief.

“What are you doing?” Jan demanded of him.

Uncle Rudolf sighed.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

“What wasn’t?”

Uncle Rudolf walked towards the window. He bent down and picked up a piece of broken glass from the floor. He lifted it to his eyes and examined it.

“Was this really necessary?”

Jan was confused, but then it wasn’t him who answered.

“Sorry, sir,” explained the commander. “There was no other way.”

“Your incompetence is baffling,” Uncle Rudolf said as he turned around. He put the sharp piece of broken glass to the commander’s neck and stopped it just right before it hit the skin. “Under other circumstances, I would execute you for your incompetence right here and now.”

The commander kept his eyes straight forward, not moving an inch. Cold sweat poured down his face, but Uncle Rudolf eventually threw away the broken glass.

“Like I said, under other circumstances,” he said as he approached Jan and Elisabeth. “Hello, Jan.”

Jan said nothing in reply. He shot daggers at him with his eyes. Jan wasn’t sure what to think, or what was happening.

“What are you doing, Uncle Rudolf?” Jan asked again, his voice sharp.

“What I’ve always done, Jan. I’m doing my part for humankind. That has never changed. Not when I first met you, not when your father was killed, not when you launched your  coup in the Brotherhood.”

Jan’s jaw dropped. “So… you’ve been with them this whole time?”

“Them?” Uncle Rudolf asked back, feigning ignorance.

“Templars,” spat Jan.

Uncle Rudolf sighed. “Ernst, your brother, you.”

It had been so long since Jan heard his father’s name.

“It always pained me – no, it still does – seeing you all follow the false ways of the Assassins. Can’t you see that your so-called freedom will bring only anarchy and chaos? And what follows them? Nothing but death and destruction.”

“So, you betrayed us?”

“No,” he said, looking straight into Jan’s eyes. “I’ve always been a Templar.”

Jan clutched his fists.

“So, father… You killed him…?” Jan almost lost his voice as he asked that question.

Uncle Rudolf shook his head. “It wasn’t supposed to be like that.”

“So you did.” Jan could barely control himself. He felt he could jump at Uncle Rudolf right at that moment and unleash all the rage he had kept for years.

But Uncle Rudolf shook his head once again. “You’re not listening. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that at all. He wasn’t supposed to die. You have to believe me, Jan. For all my disagreements with you Assassins, I did love your father like a brother.”

Jan spat at his feet.

“Tell that to his grave.”

Uncle Rudolf just looked at Jan with what Jan could only describe as a mix of sadness and pain.

“Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The key.”

“What key?”

“Don’t play dumb, Jan,” said Uncle Rudolf with a stern voice, like the voice his father used to use on him when he was naughty. “The key to end this war, and to control this world.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. If it’s the key that we took from Heydrich, I don’t have it. And you won’t find it.”

“You’ve opened it, doubtless. But that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m not talking about the key to the door. I’m talking about the key to what’s inside.”

Jan’s eyes opened wide. The contraption at the end of the hall in the Vault.

“So, you know what I mean.”

Jan tried to feign ignorance, but Uncle Rudolf knew him too well. Uncle Rudolf turned to the soldiers.

“Commander, call in more men. I will need two men to come with me.”

The commander acknowledged his order with a salute and went outside. Not long afterwards, he came back with two more soldiers.

“Come on, Jan. Get up. You’re coming with me,” Uncle Rudolf announced as he approached Jan. He dragged Jan up by the arm. “And remember, the safety of your mother and Elisabeth rests with you.”

At gunpoint, Uncle Rudolf and Jan made their way back into the main corridor of the house. One soldier in front, and another at the back with his gun held towards Jan. They didn’t tell Jan where they were going, but he was hoping it wasn’t where he thought it was.

Jan’s heart dropped when they stopped in front of his father’s old study. The door was ajar, and they went in. The study was a complete mess. Piles of paper were strewn all across the floor, while the desk in front of the window where they had been piled before was now nearly empty except for a few sheafs of paper. The bookshelves on either side of the windows had been emptied, their books a chaotic heap on the floor in front of them. The drawers on the bottom half of the shelves were pulled out, their contents similarly thrown around the room. Even the small rubbish bin next to one of the bookshelves had been kicked over.

“We’ve searched the entire room, but we haven’t found it. Where is it, Jan?” Uncle Rudolf demanded as he nonchalantly picked up a sheet of paper.

“Where’s what?”

“You know very well what I’m talking about,” he said, turning around and looking Jan straight in the eyes.

Jan avoided his gaze.

“The documents. Before he died-”

“Before you killed him, you mean?” Jan said pointedly, his face flushed with anger.

Uncle Rudolf, with a slight tinge of shame on his face, ignored his remark.

“Before he died, your father had come into possession of some documents. Documents that he kept secure. So secure in fact, that he kept it even from me.”

Uncle Rudolf walked closer to Jan, and he stopped right in front of Jan’s face.

“You know it. And you know where it is, don’t you, Jan?”

Jan said nothing. He tried to make it seem like he was confused, but he didn’t know how good of an actor he was.

“You’re in with Lutz, so I know your loyalty to the Brotherhood in unshakeable. Fanatics, you lot are. But this isn’t about you, Jan. This is about your mother, and about Elisabeth.”

Jan snapped.

“You killed Father, and now you’re going to kill Mother too?”

“I did not kill your father, Jan!” he shouted back, taking Jan aback. “It was an accident. An accident. I never meant to get him killed. And I certainly don’t want to hurt your mother. You are like family to me. But there are bigger things than us at stake here, and I have to do what I must.”

Jan remained silent, though the meaning of his words did not escape him.

“So, what’ll it be, Jan?” Uncle Rudolf asked him, still a mere few inches away from his face.

“Fine,” Jan said, almost spitting at him.

Uncle Rudolf stepped aside and let Jan walk into the room, though the two soldiers at the door were still aiming their rifles at him. Jan went straight to the desk and knelt in front of it.

“We’ve checked there,” declared one of the soldiers. “We know there’s nothing there. You can’t fool us.”

But Uncle Rudolf snapped at him, the irritation clear in his voice. “Quiet,” he shouted at him.

Jan did not know the origins of the desk. He only knew that it was specially built, either for his father or one of his ancestors. It was made of sturdy oak and on the side of the desk from which one sat, there were a stack of drawers on each side, which had all been pulled out and emptied of their contents by the soldiers before Jan had come in. On its front – the side that Jan was facing – near the top of the desk was a small symbol. It was so small that most people would miss it. It was the symbol of the Assassins, carved into the wood by its maker.

Jan brought his hand to this small symbol and put his ring finger in the centre of the symbol. He pushed it, and the inside of the symbol sank into the desk. At the same time, there was a click from within the desk. They all turned their attention to the drawer that had just poked out of the bottom left leg of the desk. It had been made so perfectly aligned with its surroundings that its creases had not been seen, making it invisible. Jan pulled the drawer open, revealing its contents: a single envelope. His father never told him about it, but he had seen him open it.

“That’s enough, Jan,” Uncle Rudolf said as he held Jan’s shoulder. “Go back to where you were standing.”

Jan did as he was bid and walked back to the two soldiers. Uncle Rudolf knelt and picked up the envelope. He inspected it, checking every side. Then he opened it. It had been opened long ago, so there was no resistance. He took out the sheaf of papers within it and threw the empty envelope onto the desk. He opened the papers and read through them one by one. As he read, the room was silent. Then, without looking up from the papers, Uncle Rudolf addressed Jan.

“Have you ever read this, Jan?”

Jan didn’t answer for a few moments. “No,” he finally said.

“Why not? You knew where it was.”

“It just didn’t occur to me.”

“I’ve been searching for this information for a long time. A long, long time. To think that it was in his desk all this time…”

Uncle Rudolf became silent. He held the sheaf of papers in one hand, while he touched the desk with the other. He looked down, deep in thought.

“Ernst, it took me this long to find that secret you kept from me. Even in death, you trouble me.”

With that, Uncle Rudolf folded the sheaf of papers neatly and put them back into the envelope. He turned around and walked towards the door.

“Let’s go back down.”

They left the room, Uncle Rudolf leading them while the two soldiers stayed behind Jan with their guns ready. As they walked down the hallway towards the stairs, gunshots and screams rang out from below.

“Jan!” shouted Elisabeth as another gunshot rang out, followed by a man screaming.

Jan took his chance. He ducked and swung his feet towards the feet of the soldiers, sending them crashing down before they could even pull their triggers. Then he turned around to face Uncle Rudolf, who had turned around and taken out his gun. He fired two shots at Jan, who deftly dodged them. Jan sent his fist towards Uncle Rudolf’s face, hitting him square on the side. As Uncle Rudolf recoiled from the blow, Jan grabbed his wrist and twisted it, forcing Uncle Rudolf to drop the gun.

Uncle Rudolf kicked him away. The two men now stood across each other, ready to fight. They both engaged their hidden blades and went at each other. Uncle Rudolf struck first, trying to stab him in the head, but Jan avoided it. Next, Jan went below, trying to stick his blade into Uncle Rudolf’s stomach. But Uncle Rudolf was in no way slower, and he too avoided the blow. For a few moments, the two traded blows, each not hitting the other, at best grazing their opponent’s skin. As they fought, the sound of gunshots coming from outside, followed by a reply from the inside, came from below.

They moved away from each other, both heaving from the physical exertion. They looked into each other’s eyes. Jan’s was full of hatred, but there was something else in Uncle Rudolf’s eyes. Regret. Sadness. For what? Jan didn’t know. And Jan didn’t care.

“I’ll be ending this now, Jan. I’m sorry.”

“Fuck you!”

Uncle Rudolf rushed at him and swiped at him. Jan jumped back, avoiding his blow. Uncle Rudolf moved forward again, trying to stab Jan in the head with his right blade. Jan narrowly avoided the blow by tilting his head, but at that moment he brought his own arm up and put it over Uncle Rudolf’s extended arm. Then, he twisted it as hard as he could. Uncle Rudolf yelped in pain, and Jan buried his blade deep in Uncle Rudolf’s stomach.

Uncle Rudolf’s eyes widened in shock. His mouth was agape, but no sound came out. Jan pulled out his blade and let Uncle Rudolf fall to the floor. He was grasping at his wound and looked at the crimson blood covering his hand.

Jan was about to deliver the final blow, when he heard a gun cocking behind him. He rolled away just as one of the soldiers, having recovered, shot at where he was. The other soldier too had recovered and was shooting his rifle at Jan. At such a close range, it was easy for Jan to avoid the rifle shots.

Jan rushed the two soldiers, leaping left and right to avoid the shots. He was quicker than they could reload, and soon Jan had reached the soldier on the left. He kicked away the soldier’s gun and stabbed him in the neck, killing him instantly. He was too busy with the first soldier to notice the second soldier shooting at him. He only managed to tilt his body slightly, allowing the bullet to graze him and draw blood.

He kicked away the first soldier’s lifeless corpse and went after the second soldier. Putting all his strength into his arms, he wrenched the rifle away from the soldier’s grasp and threw it back down the hallway. The soldier’s hand went to his knife, but Jan stabbed his arm. He screamed in pain. Jan prepared to deliver the final blow, but the soldier took out a grenade with his other hand and brought it up. It was a standard German grenade, with the screw cap already removed. With his teeth, he pulled the cord quickly. The soldier smiled devilishly.

“I’m taking you with me!”

Jan struggled with the man, trying to take the grenade away from him. They fell onto the floor, scrambling. Jan was on top of him one second, and he was on top of Jan the next. Although it was only a few seconds, they were a precious few seconds. Precious enough that it felt much, much longer. At the end, he was on top of Jan, trying to hold him down so they would die together. But Jan, struggling for dear life, put all his strength into his arms and threw the man over his head, sending him rolling towards the railing overlooking the kitchen, his grenade still in his hand. The soldier barely brought himself up and, panicking, threw the grenade into the kitchen.

“No!” Jan shouted.

But it was too late, and a great explosion happened right before his eyes. It sent the soldier in front of him flying, and he too fell backwards. Jan opened his eyes. There were sparks flying all around him. A great fire was burning in the kitchen, its light illuminating the entire hallway. Jan felt no pain. He forced himself to get back up and rushed towards the stairs. All the while, he was shouting.

“Mother!”

Chapter Text

Berlin, Nazi Germany – 24 July 1944

When Jan reached the ground floor, flames had begun to engulf the house. The doorway was burning, and a great flame was consuming the kitchen. Thick, black smoke was billowing from it, crossing the living room and streaming outside through the destroyed living room window. Through the fire and smoke, Jan saw the bodies of the dead soldiers, lying still on the floor with pools of blood beneath them. He didn’t see Elisabeth nor his mother.

“Mother! Elisabeth!” he shouted through the smog.

He put his arm to his mouth and nose and began walking through the smoke. He was forced to squint his eyes when the smoke began hurting his eyes. He walked blindly into the room. His foot hit something on the ground; a body – but whose he wasn’t sure. His heart beating fast, afraid of the possibility, he crouched down below the smoke and opened his eyes. His heart became lighter when he saw it was the commander, now dead.

His heart still anxious, however, he stood back up and began walking vaguely towards the corner. There, the smoke was thinner, and he could open his eyes more. On the ground was Elisabeth, lightly coughing and covered in ash and soot.

“Elisabeth!” he shouted in relief as he crouched down and held her.

“I’m fine,” she said as she continued coughing.

As Jan helped her sit up, her eyes turned to the side. They widened in panic, and she started tugging on Jan’s arm.

“Jan, Jan!” she said as she pointed to the side.

Jan turned his head and through the haze saw his mother, half-buried under rubble and the living room armchair. Jan left Elisabeth’s side and rushed to his mother’s. He held her in his arms. There was blood on her forehead, and she was covered in ash. Her body was still warm, but she didn’t react to Jan’s touch.

“Mother! Mother, can you hear me?” he said as he frantically shook her from side to side.

But there was no response. He brushed away some of the rubble covering her, revealing a piece of wood that had embedded itself in his mother’s ribs. The clothes around it were drenched crimson in blood.

“Mother? Mother? Wake up, mother!” he said as he continued shaking her, more violently than before.

He put his head on her chest, but there was no heartbeat.

“No, no, no!”

Jan let her down and put his hands on her chest. He kept pushing on it, trying for dear life to pull her back from the edge of the abyss. But there was no response. While his own heart was beating loudly and quickly, despite his best efforts there was no heartbeat from hers.

“Jan,” he heard Elisabeth speak softly from behind as she put her hand on his shoulder.

But Jan didn’t respond. He kept on pumping, as if his arms could never waver.

“Jan, stop!” Elisabeth suddenly shouted.

Jan stopped. He held his head down.

“I’m sorry, Jan,” Elisabeth said as she hugged him from behind. “I’m sorry. But we have to go. They’ll come soon.”

“No, no, no,” Jan kept muttering as the tears started flowing from his eyes. “No!”

Father. Brother. Now, mother. They’re all together now. He’s the only one here, left behind all alone in this fiery world of chaos, death, destruction, and suffering. What is there to fight for anymore at this point?

Jan only had a brief moment of respite as Elisabeth slowly pulled him back to his senses.

“We really have to go, Jan,” she said softly.

Jan nodded. He wiped the tears from his eyes, closed his mother’s eyes, held her hand tightly, and then gently let her back down. They stood up, the air still thick with smoke. Elisabeth held his hand and led him towards the hallway. Though Jan followed her, his eyes were still stuck to his mother. She slowly disappeared before him, engulfed by the smoke before disappearing completely from his eyes as he reached the doorway. There, he stopped for a few seconds. His eyes were still looking in the direction of his mother, but he could no longer see her. There was now a great, grey wall between them, and they would never see each other again until the day he went beyond that wall.

Finally, he turned around and didn’t look back into the living room. He heard the distant shouts of the German soldiers outside, calling for a firetruck. Elisabeth and Jan went towards the back door. She opened the door and stepped outside but noticed that he wasn’t going with her.

“Jan? What are you doing? Come on, we have to leave.”

“No, there’s one more thing I need to do.”

“What? We don’t have time!”

“I can’t let that bastard live.”

“Who? Rudolf?”

Jan nodded.

“We don’t have time, Jan. They could be through the front door at any moment. Besides, maybe he’ll die from the smoke.”

“I’m not leaving it to chance. You go first.”

Elisabeth sighed.

“No, no way I’m leaving you. I’ll keep watch here. But make it quick, alright?”

“Alright,” Jan said as he turned back down the hallway. He turned at the end and walked up the stairs. He reached the top and looked into the upper hallway. The soldier’s corpse lay dead, and Uncle Rudolf was propped up against a wall. Jan made his way to Uncle Rudolf and knelt beside him. Uncle Rudolf looked at him as he engaged his blade. There was no anger, no hatred. Only sadness.

“Come to finish the job?” he said, as blood began to seep through his mouth.

Jan didn’t answer.

“I suppose this is how it ends,” he said, relaxing.

“Mother is dead.”

But at that, Uncle Rudolf’s eyes widened again.

“What happened?”

“The explosion sent debris flying. It killed her.”

Uncle Rudolf had a pained expression on his face and breathed a deep sigh.

“Things weren’t supposed to end this way.”

“How did you expect things to turn out? You were our enemy from day one, weren’t you? Deep down in your heart, this is what you wanted.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I never wanted this. I had hoped that my friendship with your father would slowly convince him to turn from his ways. But we both know your father and what kind of man he was. He had the strongest conviction in what he believed in. Even though I didn’t believe in the same thing, I respected that. Maybe because I didn’t have that strong of a conviction as your father did. I merely grew up in the Order. It’s all I ever knew.”

Jan listened to him speak without uttering a single word, his blade ready and held in front of Uncle Rudolf’s chest.

“I never intended to get your father killed. I just needed him to get away from the house. Your mother never realised, but someone snuck in here, trying to find what you finally showed me today. I even made it clear to the Order that I had no intention of killing your father. I told them it would be an unnecessary provocation. A lie, I knew from the start. But it all turned out that way. I was betrayed. They killed him.”

“Do you think telling me all this absolves you from what you did to father?”

“No,” he said. “No. I’ve carried that guilt from the day he died until today. But today, I think I will see him. If there is something beyond death, then I will see him.”

He turned to Jan.

“Jan,” he said. “It is her.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The key. It’s her. Elisabeth.”

“What?”

“She is the key to all of this. Only she can end this war, one way or the other.”

“The key is… a person? How do you know this?”

“It was in the letter your father wrote, the one you led me to.”

He put one hand on Jan’s shoulder.

“This is the only thing I can do for you. It does not pay for what I’ve done to you. But I’m doing it anyway.”

“You expect me to thank you?” Jan nearly spat.

But Uncle Rudolf shook his head.

“No. This is just my penance. A great betrayal to my own Order, but this is my atonement to your father.”

Uncle Rudolf coughed up more blood.

“If you’re going to do it, then end it.”

Uncle Rudolf sat back against the wall, closed his eyes, and let his body relax.

“May the Father of Understanding guide you.”

With one swift, sudden blow, Jan dug his blade deep into Uncle Rudolf’s heart. The suddenness sent a jolt through Uncle Rudolf’s body, and his eyes instinctively opened, and he grunted in pain. But Jan kept pushing the blade in.

And then Uncle Rudolf whispered his final words.

“I’m… sorry."

Chapter Text

Black Forest, Germany – 30 July 1944

Jan and Elisabeth made their way through the forest, straight for the Vault. They had spent most of the last six days in silence as they travelled southwest from Berlin. They were pursued from Berlin for a while, but eventually they lost their pursuers. Jan had said little, even when Elisabeth had spoken. But she didn’t seem annoyed or irritated. Sometimes, she would stick close to him and lean against him, comforting him.

Jan appreciated these gestures, but there was little she could do. Both his heart and mind were a mess. The last family he had in the world, his mother, had been taken away so violently from him. And it was his fault, wasn’t it? If only he had killed the soldier who threw the grenade earlier, he wouldn’t have been able to do it. If only he had wrenched away the grenade. Hell, he would gladly die in the explosion along with the soldier if he could turn back time, if it meant his mother would still live.

Those thoughts haunted him, never leaving him even for a moment. He kept remembering his mother. His mother’s kind, smiling face. Followed by her lifeless corpse in the smoke-filled living room. Guilt. Regret. Rage. Grief. Sadness. All swirling inside him. It was as if a dark substance emanated from his heart and spread throughout his body. It extended even beyond it, clouding the world around him. Its weight dragged him down, making it hard for him to take even one step forward.

But still, he soldiered on. Because what other option was there? He had no more family. There was only the fight.

But was it truly only the fight? He kept asking that question to himself. Every once in a while, his gaze would go to Elisabeth who was always in front of him. She wasn’t family, and yet he felt he was also fighting for her. And he felt she was maybe fighting for him too? Though he wasn’t sure if that was overconfidence, assuming things that weren’t. Maybe she was just a friend, a comrade-in-arms. Like how losing Kevin hit him hard, so too would losing Elisabeth.

But that’s not all. Uncle Rudolf’s words haunted him.

The key. It’s her.

She is the key to all of this. Only she can end this war, one way or the other.

What did Uncle Rudolf mean? Was this just another of his lies, a way to confuse him as a final shot against the Assassins that the Templar Rudolf could do? Could he trust the words of someone who had caused the deaths of both his father and mother? From Berlin to the Black Forest, all these thoughts occupied his mind.

About fifty paces from the forest, he stopped. Elisabeth took a few more steps before realising the missing sound of footsteps behind her. She turned around.

“Jan? What’s wrong?”

“There’s… something I need to tell you.”

“About?”

“Uncle Rudolf.”

She gave him a puzzled look.

“Go on.”

“Before he died, he said some… things.”

“What did he say? Was it about his betrayal? Or how he murdered your…”

“No… Well, yes. He did talk about that. But that’s not it.”

She didn’t say anything. She simply waited for him to continue.

“He said you’re the key.”

“The… key?”

Jan nodded.

“To what?”

“That’s… what I’m not clear about either.”

“What did he say exactly?”

“He said that you were the key to end this war.”

“Me? And how would I do that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Hmm…,” she said in response. “Well, maybe we’ll find out more once we’re there.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there in complete silence, looking at each other for a few moments. Elisabeth then turned around, as if ready to continue, but she didn’t move. She turned back and looked at Jan again.

“What did he say?”

“About you?”

“No, at the end.”

“He said he was sorry.”

“Sorry, huh?”

A few moments after that, she turned around and finally continued walking, though at a slower pace than before.

Jan didn’t immediately follow. As Elisabeth got farther away from him, he reached into his pocket and took out an envelope. The letter from his father’s study. He had taken it from Uncle Rudolf’s corpse. But having spent the entirety of the last few days together, he hadn’t had time to read it in private. He stared at the envelope for a few moments, until Elisabeth called after him.

“Jan?”

“Coming,” he said as he put it back in his pocket.

He continued walking towards the Vault, his heart still heavy.

Chapter Text

The Vault, Germany – 30 July 1944

Jan and Elisabeth reached the entrance to the Vault. Two Assassins stood on guard. They acknowledged each other as Jan and Elisabeth made their way down into the Vault itself, descending down the long, dimly lit steps.

When they reached the hall, they had to make sure their eyes were not deceiving them. The spacious hall, which had been occupied by some three dozen Assassins, was now almost full to the brim with them. Many of them wounded. Jan and Elisabeth made their way through the people. Some were wearing bloodstained Assassin robes. Others had on civilian clothing, with bandages covering their arms or the side of their heads. Jan couldn’t help but think that he was going through a war hospital filled with wounded soldiers brought back from the frontlines.

They asked a passing Assassin they knew where Lutz was and were told that he was in his room. The two Assassins left the hustle and bustle of the main hall for one of the side corridors, which was now no longer empty but rather lined with crates filled with weapons and ammunition. They made their way to Lutz’s room, where a wooden door had been installed. Elisabeth was about to knock on the door when they heard people speaking inside, and so Jan and Elisabeth waited outside.

It wasn’t long before the door opened and several Assassins they didn’t know – all haggard with stains of dried blood – came out of the room. When they had left, they saw Lutz standing behind his desk. Upon seeing them, he smiled and told them to come in. Jan and Elisabeth went in, closing the door behind them.

“Thank goodness, you two are okay,” he said with a sigh of relief. “I was worried the Templars had got to you.”

“Sorry for the late return,” she said. “We went to Berlin, tried to do what we could there. Did any of them make it here?”

“Some of them went to Essen, but unfortunately we lost the Essen hideout.”

This shocked both Jan and Elisabeth. The ancient sanctuary of the German Brotherhood had fallen.

“The attempted assassination of Hitler really hit a nerve with them,” Lutz said as he settled into his chair. “I’m afraid doing that was a mistake. We lost so much, but we gained nothing. We’re actually in a worse position than we were in before.”

“But I’m glad that many brothers and sisters seem to have made their way here,” Elisabeth said, vaguely pointing towards the main hall.

“Yes, we can be thankful of that at least.”

“We also have more bad news,” Elisabeth continued after a short pause.

“I don’t think things could get any worse than they are right now, save for complete, utter defeat, but go on,” Lutz said, smirking.

“Turns out Rudolf was a traitor all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was a Templar.”

Lutz’s mouth opened, leaving it slightly agape.

“What? I took him for an old fool, a coward, but not a traitor.”

“Turns out he had been a Templar for all his life. He was a rat from the beginning.”

“You said ‘was’. What happened?”

“Jan killed him.”

They both looked to Jan, as if for confirmation. He merely nodded.

“Good,” Lutz said. “The fact that he was with us for so long is yet another testament to the utter incompetence of the Council. Imagine if they had stayed in the leadership of the Brotherhood. But how did you learn of this? What happened?”

Elisabeth looked at Jan, but he said nothing and simply nodded to her.

“We found out that they were going to Jan’s house, where his mother was. Rudolf was there, leading the soldiers who had captured her. Rudolf confessed when we were captured for a moment, telling us everything. The tables turned, and Jan killed him.”

“Wait, what about your mother, Jan?”

Elisabeth and Lutz looked at Jan, waiting for his answer. Jan answered by shaking his head. Lutz looked down in response, then after a few moments went around his desk and headed straight for Jan. He held Jan’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Jan.”

Jan nodded. And then talking to both Jan and Elisabeth, he continued.

“You two have earned a much-needed rest. Go wash up, there’s a river nearby. Then grab one of the beds. There are no Templars tonight, nor tomorrow in fact. You’ve gone through so much in the past few days.”

Elisabeth nodded, but Jan spoke up.

“If you don’t mind, Lutz, I’ll rest just today. The fight isn’t over. And I have to do my part in it.”

Lutz looked at Jan without responding for some time, but then put one hand on his shoulder and nodded.

“Alright, Jan. I understand. Get some rest today. Tomorrow, we’ll continue.”

Jan and Elisabeth then left Lutz’s study. They went to the nearby river to wash up all the dirt and blood that had accumulated in the past few days. Afterwards, they went back into the Vault. Elisabeth found a bed first, but Jan saw no empty beds in that room, so he went to another room. He found one, deeper in the Vault, and sat down on the bed. It was a small room, with only four beds, two on each side. The three other beds were occupied by wounded Assassins, and there was a dim light on the ceiling.

Jan sat there, motionless, for who knows how long. The same thoughts that had plagued him the past few days were circling around in his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. All at once, the thoughts ceased. His mind was empty. And he took out the envelope from his pocket, took out the letter inside it, and began to read.

Chapter Text

Augustin Schieffer

Dessau

15 May 1930

Dear Ernst,

I hope you’re doing well and that you’ve spent the past days pleasantly.

I’ve pursued the Templars to Dessau, from where I’ve sent you this letter. They led me on a goose chase through the country, but I think this is where they’re aiming.

A few days ago, I captured a Templar by the name of Paskal Wetter. Do you know him? He was with Nägelein’s crew. Before he died, he told me a lot of things. About what they’re doing here, what their aim was. I’m not sure I can make sense of all of it.

Do you remember all those stories of the Ones Who Came Before? About the Assassin Lukas Zurburg during the Black Death and the Ankh? You and I both know we don’t put much stock into these stories. It was a different age back then, after all. But it seems to these Templars, these fables and legends are very real.

They believe that they’ve found traces of a relic of those Ones Who Came Before. Wetter didn’t seem sure himself what sort of thing they were looking for. In the end, I think he believed that it was a place, or a weapon. A weapon that could see them achieve their goal of world domination in a hypothetical future war which they would engineer.

They’ve connected this to the Roman god Jupiter. They seem to believe that the key to using this weapon is the blood of Jupiter, whom they believe to be part of the Ones Who Came Before.

Apparently, they believe Jupiter has descendants among us. They are rare. Very few of them remain, but the Templars believe they’ve tracked some of Jupiter’s descendants to this place. Wetter told me who they are and where they are, but I haven’t gone round there yet. I need to get there before the Templars do. I don’t know if I believe this, but if the Templars believe it this much then we have nothing to lose from trying to make sure they don’t gain whatever it is they hope to gain.

I’ll let you know once things are clearer.

Your friend,

Augustin

(this second letter has spots of dried blood on it)

18 May 1930

Dear Ernst,

I was too late, and yet I wasn’t. The Templars had got there first. They killed them, a husband and wife running a small, traditional inn. But when I got there, there were only their bodies. There were no Templars to be seen. I checked the surrounding area. It was pouring hard, and I just barely managed to track them into the nearby forest.

I managed to catch up to them. They were looking for something, torches in hand shining a light on every nook and cranny even under the pouring rain. I observed them for a bit. They were having a hard time finding whatever it was they were looking for. They moved deeper into the forest as they did, but they seemed convinced that whatever they were looking for was going to be in their path.

Finally, they stopped at the base of a large tree. There was a hole at the bottom, barely enough to fit a dog. They didn’t shine their torches on it, but they were aiming their guns there. And then suddenly, one of them brought the light to the hole and the other’s hand went straight into it. He pulled his hand back violently, yanking a child out of the hole.

It was a little girl. Barely twelve years old. Like savages, they forced her onto the muddy ground, headfirst into the wet leaves. They threatened her, saying that they would hurt her if she didn’t calm down. I couldn’t just stand there.

I took out my gun, aimed at one of them, and let out the shot. It hit its mark, and the brute fell dead onto the ground, his face not far from the young girl. The darkness, the rain, and the foliage kept me covered. They shot around randomly, not sure where I was. I moved quickly, still hiding in between the trees and the bushes while trying to get behind them. When I was in position, I leapt out and with my hidden blades made short work of the two remaining Templars.

I knelt beside the child and held my hand out. Predictably, she crawled back in fear. Not that I blame her. Realising that I probably looked like a ghost in my hood in the dark forest, I pulled it back to reveal my face. I told her it was okay. It took a bit of time, but eventually she took my hand.

We walked back towards the inn. I noticed a bright light getting stronger as we drew closer to the inn. The rain was subsiding, and someone had set fire to the inn. The neighbours were trying to douse the fire and calling out to the girl’s parents. She tried to run there, but I held her. It wasn’t safe. That place wasn’t safe for her anymore. I told her this, and eventually she understood.

We’ve been making our way through the country. I’m not sure where we’re supposed to head. I’m sending this letter to prepare for our potential arrival in Berlin. But maybe they’re expecting that and it’s safer to go to Essen. Either way, they’re hot on our trail. I’ve had several run-ins with them already. I confess I’ve sustained some injuries, but minor so far. Nothing to worry about.

But if anything happens, I want you to know about this. I haven’t told anyone else about this “Jupiter” thing. I still don’t know its significance, but on the off chance that there is some truth to this madness, then it is imperative we keep her out of the Templars’ hands.

Also, she’s lost her parents. I’ll raise her myself in the Brotherhood.

I’ll send word again when I can, or maybe I’ll meet you face to face next time.

Godspeed, Ernst.

Your friend,

Augustin

P.S. I almost forgot. Her name is Elisabeth.

Chapter Text

The Vault, Germany – 31 July 1944

When there were still only a few people walking around, Jan had woken up. He got dressed and went straight to Lutz’s office. He knocked on the door and, as he expected, a reply came from inside telling him to come in. He promptly entered and closed the door behind him.

When Jan entered, Lutz had a map of Germany spread out across his desk, and a cup of coffee. Despite the war rations – which they didn’t get anyway by hiding out in the Black Forest -, the Assassins had come across some crates of coffee beans as they made their raids on military storehouses. He was still looking at the map as Jan walked towards his desk.

“You’re up early, Jan,” he remarked as he took a sip of his coffee and turned his attention to him. “I thought trekking across Germany would’ve made you sleep longer.”

“I have something important to tell you.”

There was an urgency in Jan’s voice, an anxiety-filled sense of urgency. Lutz picked up on this and put his coffee cup onto the desk. When he answered, it was in a serious tone.

“Alright, what is it?”

“There’s something I didn’t mention yesterday about the attack on my parents’ house. Rudolf and the Templars came there looking for something.”

Jan took out the letters – still in the envelope – from his breast pocket and handed it to Lutz, who took it with uncertainty, flipping it front and back.

“This.”

“And this is?”

“Letters, from Augustin Schieffer to my father in 1930.”

“Augustin Schieffer… where have I heard that name before…”

“He was an Assassin during that time. He was killed that year.”

“Ah, right. I don’t think I’ve ever met him. He was killed before I became anyone of note in the Brotherhood.”

He took the letters out of the envelope and started reading them. As he kept reading, he burrowed his eyebrows further. He flipped through the letters, and then lowered them and turned back to Jan.

“So, what does this mean?”

“I think Elisabeth is the key to unlocking whatever that machine at the end of the hall is. I don’t know whether all this stuff about Jupiter and the gods are true, but Elisabeth certainly has something… different, about her. Numerous times she knew things she shouldn’t have known, like the number of soldiers around a corner, or where specifically to look for something.”

Those “skills” as he first thought them had helped them immensely.

“When we first entered the Vault too, the orb machine responded to her before it flickered out. Based on these letters, the Templars seemed convinced that this Vault held some power that could see their permanent victory against us and their domination of the world. Now that we’re in control of it, and we have Elisabeth, I think there’s no harm in trying. If it turns out to be nothing but mumbo jumbo, then we’d have lost nothing anyway.”

Lutz pondered Jan’s words. Without saying anything, he went back to the letters and reread them. He took quite some time to reread them, or maybe he reread them several times.

“Have you told Elisabeth?” he asked without looking up.

“Not yet.”

“This concerns her. Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to bring up any memories. I’d heard of the story of how Augustin saved her. And I also wasn’t sure how much stock we could put in this information.”

“True…”

“But after reading the letters, I’m more convinced now that there’s some truth to them. I’m not sure if it’s what the Templars think it is, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Well, we can’t do anything without talking with Elisabeth.”

Jan nodded.

“Could you bring her here? Then we’ll talk.”

Jan left the room and went to Elisabeth’s quarters. She hadn’t been awake long, but hearing the seriousness in Jan’s tone spurred her to get ready quickly. They made their way back to Lutz’s office and closed the door behind them.

“Morning, Elisabeth,” Lutz said in greeting. He went to her and immediately handed her the letters. “Read this.”

“These are?”

“Letters to my father in 1930. From Augustin Schieffer.”

At the mention of Augustin’s name, her eyes widened in surprise, and she immediately started reading the letters. She read quickly, her eyes tracing each word. But the more she read, the more confused she seemed to become.

“I don’t understand… the Templars think I’m a descendant of the god Jupiter?”

“It would seem so,” he told him.

“Where did you get this letter?” Elisabeth demanded of Jan.

“My house. That’s why the Templars came. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t read it until I came here either.”

“The Templars believe that whatever this Vault holds can end this war. They wanted it so badly they killed your parents, tried to take you, killed Augustin, and Jan’s family,” Lutz said, his words sharp, though all of it was true. “So, Elisabeth. What do you think?”

Elisabeth was silent for a few moments. She seemed deep in thought, and her eyes constantly stared at the ground, eyebrows furrowed and meeting nobody’s gaze.

“If the Templars believe it so much that they did all that and we’re now in possession of it, then we have a duty to try it.”

“Why?” Lutz asked, looking straight at her.

“Because it might be the key to defeating them. And because if they killed my parents, Augustin, Jan’s family because of this secret…”

Her eyes hardened.

“Then I want to use this chance to exact revenge.”

Lutz nodded, his expression serious. He turned to Jan, as if for confirmation.

“If she wants it, then I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Alright, it’s settled then. We’ll figure out how you can lead us to victory against the Templars, O Daughter of Jupiter.”

As he said that, Lutz smiled wryly.

Chapter Text

The Vault – 1 August 1944

Although they were all filled with strong determination, it was no use if they couldn’t get the machine to work. It was the next day, and Jan and the rest stood around the machine, trying to figure out what exactly they should first try. Lutz paced around the semicircular perimeter of the machine.

“Could you describe again what happened when you first entered the Vault?”

“We came in and headed straight for the machine,” Jan began. “At first, nothing really happened. Then I think Elisabeth touched the globe or orb or whatever you call it,” he said as he pointed towards it. “And then, a mechanical bird appeared, much like a movie being projected onto a screen, except it was life-like, not flat and two-dimensional.”

“And then it spoke to you, yes?”

Lutz’s eyes were still on the machine as Jan confirmed his question.

“Doubtless you’ve tried this, but let’s try it again. Elisabeth, can you touch the orb?”

Elisabeth nodded and took the few steps to get to the orb. With a slight hint of hesitation, she lifted her arm and touched the orb gently with her fingers. But nothing happened.

“Well, we tried that,” Lutz remarked. “If this contraption was really built by who the Templars call the Ones Who Came Before, then it must be quite old. No wonder it’s broken.”

Lutz said that as he walked up towards the main part of the machine. It did look like a tree to Jan. An old, sturdy oak. But instead of wood, it was bare, pure metal. There was no rust nor stain, just a slightly blinding silver colour. The “roots” – which are probably pipes – connect from the ceiling, down the “trunk”, and into the floor. These pipes then connect to about seven boxes surrounding the “trunk” in a semicircular pattern. These boxes are open, like coffins without their lids, but touching them has had no effect so far.

Wait.

“Those boxes,” Jan said. “Has anybody tried doing something to it?”

“Some of our brothers and sisters have tried touching parts of the inside, but nothing happened.”

“But you haven’t, right?” he asked Elisabeth.

She shook her head in response.

“How about you try?”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Lutz agreed.

Elisabeth nodded and made her way to the nearest box, the one in the centre. With some trepidation, she touched various points on the inside of the box, but nothing happened. She turned her head around to look back at the other two and raised her shoulders in confusion.

“Hmm…,” Lutz pondered. “Well, this sounds stupid, but it looks like a coffin. How about you try getting inside?”

There was a short silence as people looked at Lutz in slight disbelief.

“What?” he said to them. “Do you lot have any better ideas?”

Without saying another word, Elisabeth turned back to the box and stared at it for a few moments. Then, she clenched her fist and made her way inside. It was a bit awkward as she tried to position herself like a corpse in a coffin, but in the end, she managed to.

A few seconds went by.

“So… do you feel anything?” Lutz asked.

Elisabeth shook her head.

“Nothing’s happening too,” she said.

“Well, I guess that didn’t work either.”

Just as Elisabeth was trying to get out of the box, suddenly she screamed and went stiff, her eyes jolting open for a bit before returning to normal.

“What’s happening?!” Jan shouted as he instinctively ran towards Elisabeth.

“Wait, Jan!” Lutz shouted as he held Jan by the shoulder.

Jan turned to him, not believing that he would ask him to stop in this situation, but Lutz was pointing towards the orb. It was coming back alive just like it did the first time they came into the Vault. It was slowly turning on, the light going from nonexistent to dim to flickering bright. Jan looked back to Elisabeth and saw that she seemed to be frozen but fine as her eyes were watching the orb just like everyone else.

The Assassins that had been close to the orb jumped back in surprise, taking out what weapons they had and entering a defensive stance. There was a mechanical whirring somewhere in the Vault and as it grew louder, so too did the orb grow brighter.

Until finally, the Eagle appeared.

“By God…,” Lutz muttered as he too took a few steps back.

“Welcome, humans,” the Eagle said in a booming voice, much louder than last time, saying the exact same words it had welcomed them with when they first came to the Vault. “Welcome to the Vault.”

Nobody responded. The Eagle, at first stationary, then began to look around. It’s not just a computer, Jan thought. It can think.

“I see there are more of you now,” the Eagle said.

“Hello,” Lutz said in greeting as he cautiously stepped forward.

“Hello,” the Eagle replied.

“What are you? Do you have a name?” Lutz asked.

“I am Aquila, a servant of my master, Jupiter.”

“Jupiter, the Roman god?”

“I’m sorry. I do not know what Roman means. Jupiter was my master, the Father of Understanding.” Aquila’s answer was exactly the same as the one it gave to Jan and Elisabeth.

“Are we the first humans you’ve met?”

“No. Two of you came before. A son of Adam and Eve, and a daughter of Jupiter, who is currently connected to the Fulmen.”

“Fulmen? What is that?”

“It is the machine behind me, the weapon that this Vault holds.”

“What is it exactly?”

“It is an experimental weapon made by my master Jupiter during the war with your kind.”

“Our kind?”

“Yes. Humans.”

“The go-, I mean, Jupiter fought humans in a war?”

“Not just my master, but all of his kin as well. There was a great war between my master’s people and humanity.”

“And this weapon, your master made it to destroy humanity?”

“Yes.”

“How does it work?”

“It sends a device into orbit that will specifically destroy the specified targets.”

“Specified targets?”

“Yes. Through my console, the weapon can be calibrated to attack specific targets. The power of the weapon means that no target will remain standing after an attack.”

“How does it destroy its targets, exactly?”

“The device sends a blast to the target from orbit, destroying it and the surrounding area for several kilometres.”

This surprised the Assassins present. No weapon was so strong that it would destroy the surrounding area like that.

“I see. But you said this was experimental. Was it ever used?”

“No,” Aquila said. “My Master stopped its development in the middle of the war to face a greater threat.”

“A greater threat?”

“Sorry, I do not know what that is. I only know the information up until I was deactivated.”

“I see.”

Jan stepped forward.

“Do you remember me?” he asked Aquila.

“Yes, you and the daughter of my master reactivated me.”

“How come you were half-broken then and completely fine now?”

“Analysing…”

Aquila froze for a few moments, looking straight at the Vault entrance, before returning his gaze to Jan.

“Many of my components have been damaged overtime, including the power supply. When my master deactivated me, I also lost access to several systems. The authorisation provided by the blood of my master present in his daughter has allowed me to access backup systems.”

“So, Elisabeth’s blood gave you authorisation to access those backup systems?”

“Yes.”

“How can we use the weapon?” Lutz asked.

“As the weapon is destructive, authorisation is needed when firing. The daughter of my master must remain in the pod during the entire process. You can enter the targets through my console.”

“I see. That will be all, Aquila. Thank you. Can you release Elisabeth?”

“Understood.”

Aquila disappeared back into the orb, and at once Elisabeth’s body relaxed and she got out.

“Are you okay?” Jan asked her as he helped her to her feet.

“I’m fine, I just couldn’t move.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No, not at all.”

“Well, we’ve figured out how to use it,” Lutz said as he came and put his hand on Elisabeth’s shoulder. “Daughter of Jupiter, you might just win us this war. Nay, not just this war. The war. The endless war that has been going on for thousands of years.”

“Are we going to use the weapon?” Jan asked cautiously.

“Let’s talk about it in my study,” Lutz replied as he turned around without waiting for their reply.

Chapter Text

The Vault – 1 August 1944

They went back to Lutz’s study and continued the conversation with Lutz standing behind his desk and Jan and Elisabeth standing before it.

“So, how do you feel, Elisabeth?” Lutz asked her.

“I’m fine, just slightly disoriented is all. It felt really… strange, to be stuck in that coffin, to not be able to move but be completely lucid.”

“So, no pain at all?”

“No, thankfully.”

“Good, that’s good,” Lutz said. “Now, I want to hear what you two think of this whole thing.”

Jan wasn’t sure what to think. He looked to Elisabeth, who looked back at him. He thought they were thinking along the same lines.

“Well, what do you think, Lutz?” Jan asked.

“Me? Well, I think we’ve just been given a really good hand. Granted, we don’t know if this thing actually works. It might be more than 5,000 years old for all we know. Who knows if it can still fire? We could barely make that eagle talk. But if it does, I’d be heavily persuaded that a God exists.”

“So, you want to try using it?”

Lutz nodded. “We could bring the war to a swift, immediate end – and the Templars with it.”

“I’m quite concerned about what Aquila said though,” Jan said with some hesitation. “He said that the weapon could destroy the target, but also a large area surrounding it. Not to mention, I’m not sure what effect it would have on Elisabeth. We were just turning on Aquila, but firing this weapon… I don’t know what could happen to her, connected to the machine like that.”

“I understand your concerns, Jan. But think of it this way. Say there were two ships. One’s got 1,000 people. Another has 10,000. They’re about to collide and nothing can stop them unless they sink… and you have a single bomb. What will you do? Do nothing? You’ll doom 11,000 people to die. But if you destroy the ship with 1,000 people, you save 10,000. I know how it sounds. But this is a war we’re fighting. Everyone has a sacrifice to make.”

“But are we really the ones to judge who dies and who lives?”

“Jan… come on now. We’re Assasssins. We kill Templars to bring forth a better world. Killing, deciding who lives and dies, has always been part of our Creed.”

Jan shifted uncomfortably. Lutz saw this and turned to Elisabeth.

“Elisabeth, what do you think?”

“Well, Jan makes a good point. But the enemy we are facing is indeed the Templars…”

“I know it sounds cold. But by doing this, we’d be saving more lives. Not doing this would mean more lives lost every day this war continues. Is that really what you want?”

Elisabeth looked down, her eyebrows furled and deep in thought.

“No… of course not. If there’s a way to end this war faster…”

“Like the weapon?” Lutz asked.

Elisabeth nodded. “If it can truly end the war faster, then I think we have a duty as Assassins to use it. Not to kill, but to save.”

Lutz nodded in approval then turned back to Jan.

“I’m still not sure… but if you two feel that way, then I won’t push this matter.”

“Alright.”

“But I’m still concerned for Elisabeth.”

“Why?” Lutz asked in genuine curiosity.

“Well, she went stiff the entire time she was in that thing. Who knows what would happen if we use it to shoot this supposedly very powerful weapon?”

“Her blood was simply acting as a sort of authorisation method. I’m sure it won’t affect her in any way. You weren’t in any pain after all, were you, Elisabeth?”

“No, no pain. Just couldn’t move.”

“See?”

Jan stayed silent for a moment, brooding.

“So you’re okay with it?” Jan asked her.

She nodded. “If by going into that machine I can save thousands of lives, I think it’s something I have to do. Even if it means I go through a little bit of pain, that’s little compared to the suffering going on around the world.”

“Above all,” Lutz said to them both, “We don’t know if she’ll even feel pain. We’ll see a bit. But you have my word, if it’s too much for our Elisabeth we’ll just take her out of the machine.”

“Alright,” Jan said as he threw up his hands. “Let’s go do this. Hopefully this dreadful war can end, and all the deaths and suffering with it.”

Lutz smiled. “Good, then we’ll do it tomorrow. I need to think about our targets.”

Chapter Text

The Vault – 4 August 1944

Lutz pointed to a point on the map, the centre of Germany, where all the roads converge and where all the roads branch out from.

“Then it has to be Berlin,” he says firmly.

“Why?” asked one of the Assassins.

Many of the high-ranking Assassins had gathered in Lutz’s study. In total, there were almost a dozen people in the room, including Lutz, Jan, and Elisabeth. They had gathered to determine the target of the weapon.

“It’s just a test,” pointed the Assassin out. “We should choose a smaller target, so we know the capability of this weapon, if it works at all.”

“That’s precisely it,” he says as he took his finger off Berlin. “If this works, the enemy will know. They will know that there is some weapon being used against them, capable of such destruction – if the eagle is to be believed. The common man will be confused, but the Templars will realise immediately what has befallen them: that we have found and used the weapon they had been searching for for so long. If they will figure it out anyway, then we must cut the beast right at the neck. Hence, Berlin.”

There was a lull in the discussion as they took Lutz’s words in. He was right, everyone realised.

“But Berlin is a very populated city… especially with all the war refugees…”

The Assassin’s words faltered towards the end. But when Lutz’s reply came, it was the complete opposite.

“Brothers! Sisters!” he shouted, surprising his audience into attention. “Are we the Red Cross? Are we monks? Nuns? No! We are Assassins. You all know what that word means outside of our order. We are merchants, and death is what we deal in. I know what the maxim says, what our great forebears said. Stay your blade from the innocent. I know, brothers, sisters. I know. I am one of you, rest assured. But we are facing a crisis the world has never seen before. Millions have died. Do you want millions more dead? And perhaps worse than death, what we are seeing unfold before our very eyes is not just the death of millions, but the murder of freedom. Isn’t that what we’re fighting for?”

Like a fiery preacher, Lutz had the attention of all those in attendance.

“When you want to be sure that you’ve killed an enemy, you aim for his head.”

With a dramatic flick, he put his finger on Berlin.

“This is the head.”

Jan looked across the room. Some doubt still lingered in the air, but it was fast receding. Wavering eyes were replaced by grim determination. It was a choice nobody wanted to make, but one everybody had to. As one, those in attendance agreed on the target: Berlin.

With that settled, they made preparations. Most of the Assassins were moved to places as far as possible from the weapon. Only those involved with it were permitted to go near it. Lutz stood in front of the orb along with some other high-ranking Assassins, while Jan went with Elisabeth as she made her way to the ‘coffin’. They stopped right in front of it.

“Are you nervous?” Jan asked.

“A little bit,” she said as they kept their eyes on the ‘coffin’. “Like I said, it doesn’t hurt. But it’s not really comfortable to be completely lucid but unable to move.”

“Can you speak when you’re in there?”

Elisabeth shook her head.

“If I could do that, I would’ve said something the moment I felt myself stuck.”

“True. But I did see your eyes moving.”

“You’re right,” Elisabeth said, turning to Jan. “I could move my eyes and see left and right for some reason.”

“I think you were blinking too.”

“Probably, yeah. I didn’t feel like my eyes were dry.”

“Then how about this? If something’s amiss, just look to me and blink as fast as you can. That’s the signal.”

“Alright, sounds good,” she said as she nodded multiple times, more to herself than to Jan.

“Are you ready?” Lutz called out from behind.

Elisabeth turned around, nodded, and turned back to the ‘coffin’. She stared at it for about two seconds, let out a deep breath, and then stepped inside, positioning herself like a ‘corpse’.

Jan turned around and gave the thumbs up to Lutz. No sooner had he done that, than the lights on the machine went on once again. It began at the base of the ‘coffin’, before flowing through the pipes that led to the ‘trunk’. From there, it spread through all the pipes, and then the orb began glowing. Then, Aquila appeared once again.

“Greetings again,” it said as it turned on.

“Hello again, Aquila,” Lutz said confidently, standing his ground and looking at the mystical bird as the other Assassins moved back slightly.

“How may I help you today?”

“Is the weapon operational?”

“Analysing…”

Aquila froze for a few seconds, presumably thinking, before speaking once more.

“Systems are 100% functional. Ready to fire.”

“Let me confirm once again. Has this weapon ever been used?”

“Not on a real target. Only for experiments by my master.”

“But did they work?”

“There was an 85% success rate.”

“What happened when they failed?”

“In 97% of cases, only system malfunction.”

“And the remaining 3%...?”

“An explosion occurred, damaging the system and the surrounding area.”

A collective gasp came out of the Assassins. One man stepped forward and spoke to Lutz.

“Lutz, maybe we should rethink this. It’s all pointless if we die.”

“It’s only 3% of all malfunctions, which only happen 15% of the time. If my mathematics is not mistaken, that’s 0.45%.”

“It does seem small, but it is there…”

“Nonsense!” rebuked Lutz quickly. “There is always a risk. We risk our lives even more when we go out there and fight. Much, much more than 0.45%. If we dare not take risks, then we are not worthy of our name.”

Another group of Assassins led by Caspar – the Assassin who helped Jan and Elisabeth several times – stepped forward, fists raised into the air.

“Nothing is true, everything is permitted!”

They chanted it like a political slogan, not too different from the Nazi parades. The only difference being the righteousness of their cause.

Lutz looked at them, satisfied. The hesitating Assassin saw this, stepped back slightly in surprise and fear, but then steeled his resolve. Jan saw it in his eyes.

“I understand. Sorry. I should’ve thought better,” he said as he bowed slightly and moved back to where he was.

“Then let us proceed. Aquila!” summoned Lutz.

“Yes?”

“Let’s test the weapon.”

“Of course. And where would you like to aim it?”

“Do you know Berlin?”

“I’m sorry. I do not know this name. Could you point it out to me?”

Light shot out of the orb and stopped in front of Lutz. But instead of continuing onwards, it shaped itself into a ball. Not just any ball, but Earth. All those in attendance looked on in marvel. Lutz was confused.

“What should I do with it?”

“You can touch it.”

Lutz’s hand slowly moved towards the globe, and he touched it. There was no resistance. After all, it was light. But then he moved his hand, and the globe turned, much like a real one. After turning it around several times, Lutz moved towards Europe and pointed at roughly where Berlin was in Germany.

“Here,” he told Aquila.

“Could you please specify?”

The globe disappeared. In its place, a large three-dimensional representation of continental Northern Europe appeared. Lutz took it in and pointed at where Berlin was.

“Understood.”

A red circle appeared where Lutz had pointed to.

“Confirm target?”

“Confirm,” Lutz said firmly.

“Confirming target… Target confirmed. Preparing systems.”

Immediately the lights in the Grand Vault went off. This was followed by the lights of the machine becoming brighter and brighter. There was a great noise. From where, Jan could not tell. At times, it felt like it was coming from inside the pipes. Other times, from behind or under it. Others still, from all three.

Light was moving from the extremities of the pipes towards the trunk. All the coffins were now dark, except Elisabeth’s, which was shining brightly. Similarly, light was streaming through the pipes that came out of her coffin. Eventually, the lights on the trunk became brighter and brighter. It flashed and flashed, bathing the Vault in flashes of white light. The noise became more intense, until finally it settled down. The lights coming from the pipes disappeared, left only with the light of the trunk.

“Systems prepared,” Aquila announced in a flat tone. “Ready to fire on command.”

Lutz stepped slightly forward and, with a resolute voice, gave his answer.

“Fire.”

“Beginning firing sequence…”

The noise picked up again, like a thousand gears rolling together, going faster and faster as the seconds went.

“3…”

Aquila began the count.

“2…”

But everyone’s attention was shattered at that moment.

Elisabeth screamed at the top of her lungs.

Jan leapt forward, his eyes only on her.

“Elisabeth!”

Chapter Text

The Vault – 4 August 1944

“Elisabeth!” Jan shouted as he leapt towards her.

The lights and the noise on the trunk were becoming more and more intense.

“Shut it down!” he shouted towards Lutz as he made his way towards Elisabeth.

“Aquila, stop!” Lutz shouted at Aquila.

“Stopping…”

Jan reached Elisabeth. She was still screaming; her eyes were darting around before settling on Jan. Even though she was screaming, the rest of her body was as stiff as a corpse. Jan wanted to pull her out, but he didn’t know what effect that would have on her.

Then the noise began to slow down. The lights began to dim. Elisabeth stopped screaming, but her eyes were still on Jan.

“Are you okay now?” he asked her.

She could only close her eyes for a moment in response.

“Firing stopped,” Aquila announced.

“What happened?” Lutz demanded of Aquila.

“Apologies, analysing…”

Jan stayed by Elisabeth. He didn’t dare to hold her or do anything else. Something worse could happen. But he stayed by her side. It was a few moments before Aquila responded again.

“Apologies, the previous analysis was incorrect. Systems have deteriorated. Damage and instability detected.”

“So, the weapon is not functional?”

“The weapon is still functional. It is at 85% effectiveness.”

“Then what the hell was that with Elisabeth?”

“Error unknown.”

“What would have happened if we had shot anyway?”

“Unsure. There is a possibility that the daughter of my master may suffer irreparable damage.”

Jan turned sharply towards Aquila.

“Are you saying she can die?”

“Unsure. But it is a possibility.”

Jan next turned to Lutz.

“We need to shut this down, Lutz.”

“Agreed. Aquila,” he said as he turned towards the eagle. “Shut down for now.”

“Understood.”

As quickly as he appeared, Aquila disappeared back into the orb. Right afterwards, Elisabeth’s limbs relaxed. She fell forward, Jan barely catching her. She was weak in the knees, and she couldn’t get up. Jan helped her to her feet and with her hand over his shoulder, they walked towards Lutz.

“Let’s get her to a bed, come on,” Lutz said.

Lutz and several other Assassins brought Jan and Elisabeth to one of the rooms. There, they laid her on the bed. She was conscious, not in any visible pain, but it was as if the weapon had sucked all the energy out of her.

“Elisabeth?” Jan called out softly as he stood above her.

Elisabeth opened her eyes and looked at Jan. Her only response was a groan.

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s hard to move…”

“Let her rest, Jan,” Lutz said to him as he tapped his shoulder.

Jan nodded. “Just take it easy, Elisabeth.”

He then left Elisabeth and went to Lutz.

“What do you think? She’ll be okay?”

Jan nodded. “I think so. It doesn’t seem like she has any injuries. But she was screaming, so she must’ve been in pain. She’s a bit out of it right now, so we’ll have to ask her later.”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Lutz said. “I don’t want to force the poor girl to go back in too quickly.”

The next day, they returned to Elisabeth, who was back to normal. She was sitting on her bed when they came in, her eyes closed as if in prayer.

“Elisabeth?” Jan called out as he went towards her. “How are you feeling?”

Elisabeth opened her eyes and smiled softly to Jan. “I’m fine. I’m completely back to normal.”

“It’s good to hear that,” said Lutz, who had just come in behind Jan. He pulled a nearby chair and sat across from Elisabeth. “I’d like to ask you about yesterday, but only if you’re fine enough to answer them.”

Elisabeth nodded. “Go ahead.”

“So, what happened? Why were you screaming?”

“Because it was really painful.”

“Painful? Didn’t you feel nothing?”

“I didn’t feel anything at first, like last time. But as the weapon started charging up, I had this tingling sensation over my body. Especially on my fingertips. But it was more ticklish than anything. But when the room went dark and the noise behind me was loud, I suddenly felt a sharp surge of pain.”

“Where?”

“…Everywhere. It was torture. I could feel pain from the top of my head to the soles of my feet. It was like getting stabbed by thousands of small knives…”

She shuddered. Jan sat next to her and held her shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Lutz said, lowering his head. “I had no idea.”

But Elisabeth shook her head. “You didn’t know that would happen. Nobody did.”

“Yes. But I would like to find out why that happened to you, and whether there’s some way we can avoid that.”

“How?”

“I hate to ask you but… could you go into the machine again? I won’t fire the weapon. I want to talk to Aquila.”

“You must be kidding, right?” Jan asked in disbelief. “She said it was like torture, and you want her to go back into that machine?”

“I understand, Jan. But this weapon might still be useful to us. We need to know more about it. If we can somehow use it without hurting Elisabeth, or maybe at least find a way to keep it out of the hands of the Templars.”

“But stil-”

But Elisabeth cut off his words. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Both Lutz and Jan were surprised.

“Are you sure?” Lutz asked her. “I wouldn’t want to force you, Elisabeth.”

“Yeah, are you sure…?” Jan asked.

But Elisabeth nodded firmly. “I don’t think I’ll be in pain again. It’s just when the weapon is being prepared. We’re only going to be asking questions. It’ll be fine, I think.”

Lutz straightened his back. “Well, Elisabeth, I can’t say I’m not surprised. To think you’d agree so easily. Truly you are an Assassin, worthy of the weight of that name. I respect you even more now. But it doesn’t have to be today. It can be whenever you feel comfortable.”

“No, time is ticking. The more time we waste, the more time the Templars have.”

Lutz nodded. “Alright, I’ll wait for you in the hall,” he said as he stood up, placed the chair back to where it was, and left the room.

Once he left, Jan turned to Elisabeth.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I do,” she pointedly said. “It’s for the greater good.”

With those words, she steeled herself, got up, and went out of the room. Jan followed behind her.

When they reached the Vault, the same Assassins that had been there the day before were here again. Confirming her readiness, Elisabeth stepped into the coffin once again. Not long afterwards, the now familiar humming of the machine came, followed by Aquila.

“Hello again,” Aquila said.

“Hello.”

“How can I help you today?”

“I have some questions about the weapon.”

“Of course.”

“Yesterday, we tried to fire the weapon. All this time, Elisabeth – that is, your so-called daughter of Jupiter – was completely fine in the box. But she said she felt unimaginable pain this time, specifically when the weapon was about to fire. Why is that?”

“I lack the ability to provide the specific cause, but this machine was not meant to be operated by your kind.”

“What do you mean?”

“This machine was meant to be operated by my master’s race, specifically by those of his blood. That is why the daughter of my master can access it. However, as a human, she is physically weaker than my master’s people. Therefore, what to them might have been a tingle could be for her pain.”

“I see. Is there no way to deal with that?”

“No,” Aquila said firmly. “This machine was not meant for humans.”

“Surely it can be changed, fixed, adjusted?”

“It could by my master. Judging from your technological level right now, I fear you lack the knowledge to do so, however.”

“And besides the pain, what would’ve happened if we had gone through with the firing?”

“It is possible that my master’s daughter could have been terminated.”

Silence.

“…Terminated?”

“Yes.”

“As in death?”

“Yes.”

“I see…”

Lutz paced around for a while, before returning to face Aquila.

“And can we destroy this weapon?”

“It is possible.”

“How would we do that?”

“A sufficient explosion could destabilise the piping system. It could cause instability and bring down the Vault itself onto the weapon.”

“And because our technology is nowhere near your master’s level, we would be hard-pressed to remake it, yes?”

“It is probably impossible at this current moment.”

“I see. Alright.”

Lutz stepped away, deep in thought. Jan and the other Assassins watched him, his deepest thoughts a mystery to them.

“If we fire the weapon and it hits the target, can you remind me how large the affected area would be?”

“I am afraid if I provide such information, you would not be able to understand it as it is in my master’s units. Unfortunately, I do not know what units you use to measure distance nor its equivalence to my master’s units.”

“Can you show me on that floating map you showed me before?”

“Of course, projecting.”

There was a slight humming sound before the map of northern Europe appeared. Berlin was marked by a red dot. Gradually, the dot expanded to cover a larger area. Everyone was silent as it did. Finally, the expansion stopped.

“Projected.”

It was a large area. Perhaps as large as the entire city of Berlin. Lutz stepped forward and took a closer look at the map.

Silence again.

“Cut off the head, and the body will fall.”

Jan was anxious. He caught just a bit of what Lutz said. He stepped forward. But after taking just one step, Lutz turned around.

He pointed his gun at Jan.

“Not one step forward, Jan.”

Chapter Text

The Vault – 4 August 1944

Jan looked straight into the barrel of Lutz’s gun. He never thought he’d be at the receiving end of it.

“Lutz, what are you doing?”

Jan didn’t move. Lutz is a man of his word. If Jan were to take a step, he knew that Lutz would pull the trigger.

“What’s necessary.”

“You’re going to fire that weapon?”

“That is what’s necessary.”

“And let Elisabeth die?”

“I have no intention of killing her, or any of my brothers or sisters. But sacrifices must be made.”

“You’re sacrificing her!” Jan shouted at him. “Not yourself!”

“I don’t want to hurt you, Jan. I really don’t. From those days we first met, you’ve been by my side. You’ve helped me. You are a true Assassin. I don’t want to have to hurt you, much less kill you.”

“I can’t let you kill Elisabeth.”

“Step forward, and you might die first.”

The air was thick with tension. All the Assassins were watching the scene unfold. Not one stepped forward, not one said anything. Elisabeth was looking straight at them, but she could do nothing.

“So, what is it you want me to do then, Lutz?” Jan asked, the sharpness clear in his voice.

“Step back. You’re letting your mind get clouded. I don’t know what’s going on between you two. I don’t think anything’s really going on yet, but you can’t let that get in the way of our mission. Don’t be selfish, Jan.

“First of all, there’s no guarantee she’ll die. Second of all, even if she did, she’d save billions of lives, today and in the future. We’ll finally win over our enemies, and establish freedom, peace, prosperity, all over the world. This fight is bigger than any of us. It has gone on for more than a thousand years and it’ll go on for a thousand more. Unless we stop it here. Do you really want to stop that? To save just one life?”

Jan clenched his fists.

“It’s not just one life, Lutz. It’s her life.”

Lutz sighed.

“I really wish you could understand. But it seems when you’re so emotional like that, no logic can pierce your mind. Very well.”

“Warning!” shouted Aquila, before Lutz could do anything. “Device unstable.”

“What’s happening?” Lutz said as he turned around towards the weapon.

Jan took his chance and rushed forward, grappling Lutz and tackling him to the ground. Lutz’s gun fell from his hand. Jan bashed Lutz’s temple with the gauntlet of his hidden blade and jumped off his body. He rushed straight towards Elisabeth but felt a heavy blow against the back of his head.

He fell to the ground. The world spun, and his ears rang. Several Assassins crowded around him and pulled him up to his knees. They dragged him back to where he came from and kicked him in the stomach a few times.

Eventually, the ringing in his ears stopped. Lutz had stood back up, a bruise on his face. Aquila was shouting “Warning!” repetitively.

“Are you okay?” Jan heard an Assassin ask him.

He shrugged him off, then went towards Aquila.

“What’s going on, Aquila?”

“Device unstable. Source of power unstable.”

“Source of power unstable?”

“Yes. The daughter of my master.”

“What do you mean she’s unstable?”

“Fluctuations in brain activity. Unstable heart rate. Palpitations. Increasingly unstable.”

“Can we shoot in this situation?”

“Negative. High chance of failure. Explosion likely. Please stabilise my master’s daughter first.”

Lutz sighed. He turned around and signaled two Assassins to go towards Elisabeth. When they had flanking her, Lutz spoke to Aquila.

“Shut it down.”

Aquila confirmed the order. As soon as he disappeared, Elisabeth was released from the coffin and fell onto the floor. The two Assassins bent to pick her up, but she punched one in the face.

“Get off me!” she shouted.

But she was weakened from the machine, and after the Assassin recovered the two of them got her to her feet and half-dragged her to Lutz.

“Let go of Jan!” she shouted as she struggled in vain.

“Why do you struggle so, Elisabeth?” Lutz asked, his voice like that of a pained father seeing his daughter rebel against him.

“Let go of him,” she said, more resolutely.

“I can’t do that, for our safety and our cause.”

“If you won’t let him go, I won’t go back into the weapon.”

Lutz shook his head.

“The both of you are hot-headed and naïve.”

Lutz took out his gun again and pointed it straight at Jan’s face. He turned back to Elisabeth.

“If you won’t go back in, then I’ll have to hurt him.”

Elisabeth’s distress was plain for all to see. Her emotions alternated between fear, panic, and rage. Again and again and again.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I won’t kill him. Besides the fact that I too love you both like younger siblings, if he’s dead you’ll have no more incentive. No, I’ll just hurt him.”

Lutz pointed the gun down towards Jan’s thigh.

“So, what’ll it be, Elisabeth?” he asked.

Elisabeth didn’t answer, her eyes full of worry. She kept her sights straight on Jan. Lutz put his hand on the trigger and was about to shoot when Elisabeth interjected.

“Wait! Wait!” she shouted. “Fine. Just don’t hurt him.”

“Good,” Lutz said as he put the gun back in its holster.

Jan wanted to rage, but he was too injured from the beating. He could do nothing but seethe at Lutz with his entire being.

“Take him to the holding cells,” Lutz said to the Assassins holding Jan. “No need to hurt him.”

“You bastard! Lutz, you traitor! You monster!” Jan spat as he was dragged away.

Lutz looked at him in pity, like one would look at a dying dog on the street.

“It’s for the greater good, Jan. I’m sorry.”

They dragged Jan into the lower levels of the Vault. There were fewer Assassins here. He didn’t even know that they had holding cells. They eventually came to a room with a heavy iron door. The Assassin on guard opened the door when they arrived and they threw Jan inside. They locked the door before he could rise, but when he did he went straight towards it and banged on it.

“Let me out! You bastards! Is this what you do to your brothers? Cowards!”

He raged for several minutes, but there was no response. Everybody ignored him.

“Well, well, look who’s here.”

Said a voice from behind Jan.

I know that voice.

His breath caught in his throat, he slowly turned around. At first, he saw nothing but darkness. As his eyes adjusted to it, the silhouette of a figure appeared, sitting against the far wall. Broad-shouldered and with no hair on his head.

“Temidare?” he asked in trepidation.

The man stood up and slowly walked towards Jan. In the light, Jan finally saw clearly who it was. The strong, dignified man from German East Africa towered above him.

“Hello, Jan.”

Chapter Text

The Vault – 4 August 1944

Jan looked at the imposing man in front of him. Temidare had always been the tallest and strongest of the Council. His head was naturally bald, his shoulders broad, and he stood more than a head above Jan. It was said that he came from German East Africa – or at least his ancestors did. But nobody really knew anything about him. Those who did had long passed away.

“Long time no see,” he said to Jan with an ironic pleasure in his tone.

The long duration of his incarceration had made him noticeably thinner, but Jan was under no delusion that any fight with this old, hardened Assassin would go easily.

“Yeah,” Jan responded. “So, this is where they hold you.”

“Yes,” he said as he returned to the far wall and sat back down. “This is where the great Mentor Lutz has put me, a loyal servant of the Brotherhood for decades: in a cell in the deepest reaches of our new headquarters.”

Jan looked around the room.

“And the others?”

Temidare looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth nearly agape.

“You must be joking?”

Jan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“You seriously don’t know?”

“What?”

“They’re dead, Jan. All three of them.”

“What? What happened?”

“What happened? Lutz killed them!”

Those words hit Jan like a punch to the gut. He leaned against the door and slid down. He looked down, not believing what he was hearing.

“What did they do?”

“What do you mean ‘what did they do’? What could they do? They were being held like me!”

“No, there’s no way Lutz would’ve killed them like that.”

“He would come sometimes. Some heated discussions would arise. But eventually, he had the others killed because he feared they would rise up against him somehow or become a rallying point for opposition in the Brotherhood.”

“What did he do to them?”

“He shot them. Just like that.”

Jan was at a loss for words.

“I thought you were one of his cronies. How come you didn’t know?”

“Turns out there’s a lot I don’t know about him. But why are you still alive?”

“He didn’t shoot them all at once. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I’m expecting my death anytime now. The bigger question is, what’s one of his cronies doing down here?”

“I’m not a crony,” Jan spat, before turning silent and reflecting. “Maybe I was. Blinded by hatred. I was. But no longer.”

Jan stood up and walked towards Temidare, sitting across from him.

“Do you know what this place is?”

Temidare shook his head.

“They blindfolded us when they brought us here from Essen. Treated us like a bunch of criminals.”

“We call this the Vault. It was built by an ancient race of… people? I’m not sure what they are, but they built this place. The Templars were looking for it, but we found it first. But it’s not just a vault. There’s a weapon inside, like a cannon but much more powerful. That was what the Templars were after. But we couldn’t get it to work. That is until by accident we discovered that we needed Elisabeth.”

“Elisabeth?”

“Yes. The situation’s a bit over my head, but this machine – it speaks – claims that it was created by an ancient race whom the Templars call The Ones Who Came Before and that apparently Elisabeth is a descendant of its creator, the Roman god Jupiter. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the machine is so advanced and alien that I don’t know what to think.”

Temidare looked at him seriously, not saying a word.

“What?” Jan asked him.

“It’s probably true,” he said as he laid back and stared at the wall. “I don’t know much of the details too, but some in the Order know of it. Some of our predecessors had some sort of encounter with such machines before. Probably not the same kind of weapon as the one you’re talking about but definitely related. The Assassins who came before us encountered the Apples of Eden; supposedly powerful devices shaped like an apple that could bend a person’s will. One German Assassin around 700 years ago might have met another such relic in Essen.”

“So, it’s true. Why doesn’t most of the Brotherhood know about this?”

“I didn’t know what to think of these stories myself. After all, they were from long ago. But before Lutz carried out his little coup, we had suspicions.”

Jan looked down in shame at the word coup, knowing where he was now.

“We heard rumours that the Templars had access to at least one Apple of Eden, possibly in the hands of Hitler.”

“And what does it do?”

“If the stories are to be believed, using it you could command anyone to do anything you want.”

“Well, none of that matters.”

Temidare turned sharply towards Jan. “And why is that?”

“It won’t matter if everyone’s dead. That’s what the machine claims it can do. It showed us a map of the projected damage if we were to shoot Berlin. It would destroy not just Berlin, but the entirety of the surrounding area.”

“And I assume Lutz wants to fire this weapon to kill the Templars and ‘win’ the war?”

“Yes.”

“And without Elisabeth, this weapon doesn’t work?”

“No.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because I tried to stop them. The machine would kill her. She was suffering already. The machine said so itself. There’s no guarantee she’ll survive the process. The machine wasn’t meant to be used by humans.”

“So, what finally changed your heart was when they would kill Elisabeth, huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you said it as if you weren’t opposed to it at first until this issue came up.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I was conflicted, but Lutz said the more we let this war rage on, the more people will die.”

“Always slick with words.”

“But my conscience kept pulling at me. Who are we to decide who must be sacrificed?”

There was silence as they pondered those words.

“I need to get out of here,” Jan finally said.

“To do what?”

“To stop them.”

“Jan,” he chuckled. “You are one Assassin. There are dozens of them up there. What makes you think you can do anything? Because you are special compared to them?”

“What happened to you?” Jan asked, suddenly realising that Temidare looked far smaller than he remembered.

“Me? You would know. You helped Lutz take me down. My brothers and sister on the Council are dead. I’m all that’s left. And I’ve lived out years of this war in dungeons. I have not seen the sun in months, ever since they brought me here. No one has come to see me. It seemed like no one was on my side. I was just alone. For years.

“How can a man keep his fire lit in such a situation, Jan?”

Broken, was all Jan could think.

But there was no time to wallow in his wretchedness.

“Snap out of it, Master,” he said as he went straight for Temidare, pulled him up against the wall, and grabbed him by the collar.

“You were the strongest one on the Council. Your voice was the loudest. To me, you were like a stone. No matter what befell you – water, wind, rain – you’d stay there, still. Strong in the conviction you have in this Brotherhood.”

“What’s the point, Jan? Your little coup has destroyed the Brotherhood I know. It doesn’t exist anymore, at least not in Germany.”

“You’re still here, aren’t you? And I’m here too. Late maybe. But I’m here. And I know what’s right now. I want to do everything I can so that if there is something after this life and I meet my father, I won’t be ashamed of what I did.”

Temidare sighed.

“Suppose I play along. What is it that you want to do?”

“Save Elisabeth, destroy the machine.”

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

“… I’m not sure.”

“You youngsters always have the fire but not the plan,” he says as he stands up. “Alright. You’ve convinced me. The Brotherhood as I knew it might not exist anymore, but the Creed remains. I will do what I must.”

***

The two Assassins stood on guard outside the cell holding Temidare and Jan.

“I heard they’re activating the machine up there,” the black-haired one said.

“I heard so too,” the blonde-haired one said. “So why are we stuck with guard duty down here?”

Then suddenly shouting came from inside the cell.

“What’s going on in there?” the black-haired one shouted.

“You’re a damn traitor! You helped bring me down and now you’re here too. If you ask me, you deserve what you got. In fact, it’s not enough!” shouted their long-time prisoner Temidare.

“You were leading the Brotherhood to its doom! What happened to you was the result of your own actions!” shouted Jan.

“Be quiet in there!” the black-haired one said.

But they refused to hear his warnings. The shouting continued, even as the guards banged on the door.

But then they started hearing thuds.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” demanded the blonde-haired one.

The hitting became more intense, and Jan was whimpering and grunting in pain.

“Damn you! You took the Brotherhood away from me!” shouted Temidare as Jan continued his screeching.

“I told you it was a bad idea to put these two in the same room,” the black-haired one said. “What the hell was Lutz thinking?”

“What should we do?”

“Lutz won’t care if Temidare dies, but Jan’s a different matter…”

They thought for a moment as the fight got worse inside the cell.

“We need to get Jan out of there and move him to another cell,” declared the black-haired one.

“Without Lutz’s permission? Are you out of your mind?”

“We’d lose our heads if we let Jan die. He’s like Lutz’s dog. Let’s go,” he said as they went to the door.

Without saying a word, the black-haired Assassin unlocked the door and pushed it. Temidare was standing in the dark corner, facing the wall and kicking Jan on the floor.

“Hey, you, stop it!” shouted the two Assassins as they ran towards Temidare and tried to wrestle him away from Jan.

As they struggled with Temidare, the blonde-haired man looked at Jan to check his condition. Except it wasn’t Jan. It was just Jan’s coat, crumpled.

“Wha-”

Jan hit him hard in the back of his head. The blonde-haired Assassin went down, unconscious. The black-haired Assassin, shocked, went to take out his gun but Temidare had twisted his arm. He screamed in pain before Jan knocked him out as well.

The two Assassins lay unconscious on the cell floor.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Jan commented. “Let’s go.”

With that, Jan and Temidare ran out of the room and to the upper levels of the Vault.

Chapter Text

The Vault – 5 August 1944

Jan peeked out of the corner, taking in everything he saw. Lutz and his cronies were still crowding around the orb, but it wasn’t on. Elisabeth was being led to the coffin. Last time, she went with Jan by her side. This time, four Assassins were guarding her.

Jan pulled back. He calmed his nerves and checked the explosives they had taken from the armoury. Stolen time-delayed fuze explosives. They were in good enough condition, so Jan put them back in his bag. Next, he checked his revolver and its magazine. Full ammunition, and three more magazines. They’d have to do.

Jan sneaked around the corner, laying low and keeping to the walls. There were fewer Assassins farther from the weapon, so he had no difficulty making his way there. Eventually, he reached the wall to the right of the orb. He was only around 7 metres away from them. He hid behind some crates filled with food supplies and peeked out.

They had finished putting Elisabeth into the coffin. The orb was booting up, and soon Aquila appeared.

“Hello again,” he said in his monotone voice.

“Hello, Aquila. Sorry for the interruption. We can begin again.”

“Affirmative. Running system diagnostics first.”

“How long will that take?”

“No more than one minute.”

“Very well, carry on,” Lutz said.

The orb began flickering, accompanied by a humming noise that followed the pattern of the light.

Jan checked his revolver once again. He took out the explosives and set the detonation to 10 minutes.

I sure hope you’re there, old man, he thought to himself.

Before they knew it, a minute had passed.

“System diagnostics complete. Ready to fire.”

“Good, same target as before.”

Aquila displayed the map once again, along with the red dot representing Berlin.

“Confirm?”

“Confirm,” Lutz said.

“Com-”

A bullet ricocheted off the orb.

Lutz instinctively ducked, and the rest of his cronies scattered, taking out their weapons and turning their attention to the source of the shot, on a platform above to the left, slightly behind the orb.

“Temidare?” Lutz asked in disbelief.

“Surprised to see me?” Temidare responded, as smoke rose from the barrel of his rifle.

“If you’re here, then Jan…”

Temidare spat. “Your little protégé is dead, along with your sorry excuses of guards.”

Lutz gritted his teeth but regained his composure.

“A pity,” he said. “I didn’t want him to die. But at least, since you killed him, I am not guilty of that death.”

“Enough with the crap, Lutz,” Temidare said. “What are you doing?”

“Something the spineless Council could never have done: I’m going to win this war.”

“By killing all those innocent people in Berlin?”

“Come now, you’re not as naïve as Jan, are you? You’re so much older and have seen so much more.”

“I’d try to talk you out of it, but I know that’d just be wasting my breath.”

Jan used the opportunity to sneak behind the coffins. As Lutz and Temidare traded words, Jan set about placing the explosives. He had no idea if these explosives would work on such an advanced machine, but he had to try. In any case, once they rescue Elisabeth, they wouldn’t be able to get it to work. Jan looked back at Temidare, who was now addressing the other Assassins.

“Brothers! Sisters! You don’t have to follow this charlatan’s words. We fight for freedom, for justice. We do not spill the blood of innocents so needlessly!”

After placing the explosives, Jan sneaked towards Elisabeth. He took cover behind the coffin to Elisabeth’s left, but time was running out. Temidare had finished his moderately long speech. But none of the Assassins in the hall made any move. Lutz began to clap.

“A moving speech, Temidare,” he said, the sarcasm clear in his voice. “But your words hold no sway over them, not anymore. Together, we’ve done so much more in the last 2 years than your entire tenure on the Council. I suppose I should’ve killed you earlier. No matter. It’s never too late to rectify a mistake. Kill him!”

The fault became filled with the sound of gunfire as almost two dozen Assassins shot at the lone Temidare. He took cover and shot back, surviving the hail of bullets. Distracted, the Assassins did not see Jan go in front of Elisabeth. Her eyes widened upon seeing Jan, though her face remained expressionless, stuck as she was in the coffin.

“Let’s get you out of here,” Jan said.

He tried pulling Elisabeth out, but she only budged a little. It was as if she was a magnet stuck to metal.

“Lutz! There!”

Jan turned around just as Lutz did. Their eyes met, and Lutz’s face was filled with shock, then confusion, then anger.

“You traitor!” he shouted.

Two Assassins aimed their guns at Jan, but Lutz held them down.

“No! You’ll hit her!”

Their attention diverted by Jan, Temidare took down three Assassins in quick succession. Jan himself took out his gun and hid behind one of the coffins, shooting at Lutz and his cronies. They were being attacked from two sides now, and five Assassins had fallen. But both Jan and Temidare had limited ammo, and to make things worse the gunfire was drawing other Assassins from across the Vault. As two Assassins came in from the side corridor, Temidare shot one but the other took cover and shot back. They couldn’t just stay like this.

“Aquila!” Jan shouted.

“Yes, sir?”

“Let her go!”

“Affir-”

“No!” shouted Lutz back. “Don’t you dare!”

“Affir-”

Aquila was confused by two different orders being shouted at him. Adding to the gunfire was now a shouting match.

This isn’t going to work, Jan thought. He wracked his brains as he shouted orders back to Aquila, who was still on the fence.

But he was forced to take cover as bullets hit the coffin in front of him.

“Careful, don’t hit Elisabeth!” Lutz shouted to his men.

By this time, another Assassin had arrived to support them. Lutz looked towards Aquila and bellowed his orders.

“Aquila, fire! Fire!”

“Affirmative, target confirmed. Beginning firing sequence…”

“No!” Jan shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the gunfire.

At once, the lights in the hall dimmed, while those on the weapon increased in intensity. The ‘trunk’, the pipes, and the coffins were shining rhythmically, like a heartbeat. The noise built up, like an orchestra reaching its peak.

He needed to stop this now, but if he made it explode there was no way to ensure that Elisabeth would be safe. He looked at the machine, then at Elisabeth, and then back again. He made a split decision.

Ignoring the gunfire, he ran straight for Elisabeth. He put his arms behind her, grasping her by the back of her shoulders, and pulled as hard as he could. At first, she didn’t budge at all. But he put all the strength he had into it, as if he didn’t need any more strength for the rest of his life.

Slowly, Elisabeth started to budge. As she did, there was a flickering, electrical noise. The lights became unstable. There was shouting behind them and the gunfire had ended, but he didn’t care. He just kept pulling and pulling. His veins were popping out of his skin, and he felt his entire body shake as he struggled not with Elisabeth, but with the machine that seemed to suck her in, like chains trying to tie her down.

The machine kept pulling her back, and it became a game of tug-of-war. One moment, Jan felt as if he was close to cutting the chains binding her. But the next moment, Elisabeth would sink back towards the coffin.

I won’t let her die. I won’t let her die. I won’t let her die.

He repeated those words in his head. Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, letting Elisabeth fall slightly back towards the coffin. Then he steeled himself and put all his strength into his arms. He pulled as hard as he could, struggling against the world by himself.

Until finally, she was free. The lights were flickering. The room was bathed in light one second and completely dark the next. A blaring alarm sound was attacking their ears.

“Warning. Unstable. Warning. Unstable. Warning. Unstable.”

Aquila kept repeating those words as Jan held Elisabeth. She was conscious, but drowsy.

“What have you done?!” shouted Lutz from behind as four Assassins came towards them.

Jan, with almost no strength left, pulled up his gun. It trembled so much that he could barely aim, and he wasn’t sure he could pull the trigger.

But one of the Assassins fell dead onto the floor, while another was screaming in pain while clutching his leg. Temidare was standing on his platform, shooting at them and forcing them to take cover.

“Jan! Let’s go!”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Jan gathered his strength and pulled Elisabeth back to the side, shooting wildly as he did. It didn’t matter if the bullets hit the enemy or not as long as he kept them in cover. He reached the crates on the side and kept pulling Elisabeth along towards the staircase leading outside. Temidare was also moving, jumping down from the platforms and making his way to the same spot. All the while, the alarm was still blaring, and their heads ached from the flashing lights.

Jan, Temidare, and Elisabeth regrouped at the centre of the hall. They made their way towards the staircase. Temidare covered their rear, while Jan focused on carrying Elisabeth and making sure no one stood in their way.

Suddenly, Temidare screamed. Jan turned around. Temidare was clutching his shoulder. In the flashes of light, Jan could see a dark colour spreading where he was holding. But despite that, Temidare kept shooting. The Assassins had by then recovered, and they were the target of a hellfire of bullets.

“Don’t let them escape!” bellowed Lutz.

Then the weapon exploded. It had been 10 minutes. The Vault began to collapse. Plumes of smoke covered the hall as fires broke out and debris fell all over the place. The last thing Jan saw before Temidare pushed them on was the Assassins scrambling to safety.

“By God, that worked,” Temidare muttered as they ran up.

Chapter Text

Near Stuttgart, Württemberg – 7 August 1944

The Assassin lay sprawled on the ground, the pool of blood underneath him slowly spreading out and covering the underbrush in a thick coating of crimson. His breathing was weak, and his eyes were closed.

Temidare approached him. With a light kick, he prodded him. Satisfied, he nodded to himself. He bent down and took the Assassin’s pistol only a few centimetres from the hand that had held it. He checked the magazine, seeing there were still bullets inside. He put the magazine back in, took aim, and shot the fallen Assassin in the head. He made a silent prayer before heading back to Jan, who was peeking out from behind a tree.

“Are we clear?” Jan asked him.

Temidare nodded in response. “That was the last of them, for now.”

“We’re making slow progress…,” Jan remarked.

They had only reached the outer vicinity of Stuttgart in two days. Their wounds notwithstanding, Elisabeth was in bad shape. There were no visible wounds, but she was drowsy and lethargic. Some moments, he had had to carry Elisabeth on his back.

“If you’re worried about me leaving you and going off on my own, you don’t need to,” assured Temidare.

Jan nodded, thanking him in his heart.

They went behind a nearby stone where they had placed Elisabeth. When he came, she instinctively went defensive. But when she realized who they were, she relaxed and let her arms fall.

“Are they gone…?” she asked weakly.

Jan nodded as he helped her up. He let her lean on his shoulder for support as they continued walking.

Their journey went on for days, mostly on foot. They didn’t have a specific destination in mind, only that they had to get Elisabeth as far away from the German Brotherhood as possible. For this, they kept heading east towards the Soviet Union. They had heard nothing about the war, keeping to the shadows and avoiding people as much as possible. Despite resting, Elisabeth remained weak. Jan began carrying her on his back, sometimes switching with Temidare.

It was 18 August now, and they had just passed Bayreuth and headed towards the Czechoslovakian border. Jan was carrying Elisabeth on his back, where she was sound asleep.

“She’s sleeping again,” he said to Temidare as they walked.

“She’s probably tired,” he responded.

“It’s been more than a week since then.”

“You have to admit we didn’t have much rest.”

“True, but I’m worried. We need to get her to a hospital soon.”

“We can’t risk it, not when Lutz and his dogs are still on our tails.”

As if on cue, a bullet hit a tree on Temidare’s right. They turned around, seeing the four Assassins making their way towards them, rifles raised.

“Jan Adler, Temidare!” one of them shouted in a clear Franconian accent – local Assassins. “Surrender her now!”

The four Assassins took cover behind trees, bushes, and stones, and surrounded them in a semicircle. Jan took out his pistol while Temidare brought up his rifle. They stood there in a standoff, neither side backing out.

“I’m not going to say it again: surrender her now!”

“You are no better than the Templars,” spat Temidare as he threw a grenade towards them.

They ran for cover as the explosion rocked the forest. Jan and Temidare made a run for it. Soon, the bullets came. They kept moving, shooting back as much as they could. Temidare did most of the shooting as they kept moving, with Jan still with the drowsy Elisabeth on his back.

They reached an end to the trees where a road cut through the forest. They crossed the road and took cover behind some rocks on the other side. The four Assassins came into view, and the two sides exchanged fire across the road. But then came the sound of a car coming close, and fast. Down the road, a car was coming. It stopped in between the two sides, and the occupants jumped out of the side closer to their assailants.

There were more Assassins, and now they were 7 to 2. Jan and Temidare made a run for it, deeper into the forest. Temidare shot one Assassin, but 6 were still following them. They ran through the forest – stopping, turning, shooting, continuing – until they finally lost them in the dark.

Jan and Temidare were out of energy. They were heaving when they came upon an old, dark mansion. They decided to break into the house, which was unoccupied but still had its furniture.

“What is this place?” Jan asked as he put Elisabeth on the couch.

“By the looks of it, some aristocrat’s mansion.”

“Its occupant?”

Temidare shrugged. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t get back by morning.”

Jan fell onto the floor, sitting. It felt like his body was about to give away. But Temidare, despite his age, was still moving around. He closed the curtains on every window and peeked out from each.

“We should probably head upstairs,” he said.

Jan agreed and brought Elisabeth up. They holed up in one of the bedrooms, letting Elisabeth rest on the bed while they sat on the floor near the window. Temidare had taken some water from the kitchen, and he offered it to Jan. As he drank, he watched Elisabeth sleeping on the bed.

“Where did it all go wrong?” Jan asked himself out loud.

“What?”

“We were at our zenith,” Jan continued. “We were finally taking the fight to the Templars, all over Germany and the occupied territories. We almost killed Hitler, did you know? I was there. I chased him. But I failed.

“But now we’re here: resting in some abandoned mansion as the Brotherhood is chasing us to use Elisabeth – and maybe in the process kill her – to gain a victory at the cost of hundreds of thousands of dead.”

Jan chuckled.

“If my father could see me now.”

“I won’t sugarcoat it for you, Jan,” replied Temidare. “You brought me down from the Council and threw me into a jail cell for the last few years. What matters now is we keep Elisabeth away from them and deny them that final victory.”

Jan listened close. He felt nothing but regret for the last two years. Because it turned out that he wasn’t fighting for the same ideals as his father. When his father went against the Council, he saved many peoples’ lives. But when Jan went against the Council, he brought them down and almost led hundreds of thousands of people to their deaths. Jan looked down in regret and shame.

That’s when he realized Temidare’s leg was wet, even though it hadn’t been raining.

“Master, what’s wrong with your leg?”

“Seems I got shot,” he says as he chuckled.

“What?”

Jan immediately went to get a closer look. It was dark, so he could barely see anything. He touched the fabric, and it was thick with blood. And it was spreading.

“We need to stop the bleeding.”

“Maybe it’s a bit too late for that.”

“Since when did you get shot?”

“Afternoon, I think.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“We had traitors on our tail. And I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“Let’s try anyway.”

Jan went through the house and found cloth in the kitchen. He went back and stopped the bleeding with the cloth as a tourniquet.

“Thank you,” Temidare said. “You go rest, Jan. I’ll take the first watch.”

Jan took his generous offer and slept right there on the floor. He woke up around 4 hours later and switched with Temidare.

Jan was still keeping watch when at around 7 in the morning, four Assassins appeared from the forest. Jan kept his head down and woke Temidare up.

“A mansion,” one of them said. “Think they went in there?”

“Let’s check it out,” another said.

“We can’t let them get in,” Temidare said. “We’ll have to take them now. Jan, go to the other room. I’ll stay here, since I can’t move my leg much. When I begin shooting, you begin too.”

Jan nodded and made his way quickly but quietly to the next room. It was very similar to the previous room, except the bed was a child. Jan positioned himself at the window and readied himself to shoot. The four Assassins were somewhat relaxed but still held onto their guns.

And then one fell dead, shot straight through the heart by Temidare. The three other Assassins shouted his name in vain and retreated back into the trees. They took cover anticipating that all the shots would come from Temidare’s window, so Jan had a clear shot at one of them.

He took the shot, further sending them into a panic. He failed to kill the Assassin but only wounded her on the shoulder. They retreated further into the trees, using them as cover.

A shootout ensued. The two weary ‘traitors’ trading gunfire with the three Assassins. They traded shot for shot. The constant pressure from Jan and Temidare did not allow them to move anywhere beyond the covers they had chosen. One of them – the wounded one – tried to make a run for it, but Temidare shot her back into cover, though Jan wasn’t sure if he had hit her or not. This continued for several minutes.

But then as Jan was reloading, two of the Assassins came out of cover and sprayed the house with bullets. Jan could barely peek due to the constant shots, but he saw that the wounded one was making a run for it. He tried to shoot back, but they were relentless. Finally, they stopped, doubtless having to reload.

“Temidare!” Jan shouted.

“What?!”

“One got away!”

“Shit!”

The shooting continued, but the intensity decreased. It was like a siege. Once in a while they would trade blows again, but Jan and Temidare had the two Assassins cornered behind their trees.

Their worst fears were then realised when more Assassins came to back them up, about half a dozen more. Now Jan and Temidare were the ones under pressure. They shot one before he could get into cover, but the rest were now shooting at the house.

As Jan was shooting back, he found he had no bullets left to shoot and no more magazines to refill it. He ran for the other room.

“Master! I ran out of ammo!”

But Jan didn’t take another step in. There was blood in the room. A lot of it. All by the window, right under Temidare as he was shooting back. The wall was punctured with bullet holes, and Elisabeth, drowsy but conscious, was crouching behind the bed.

Temidare was bleeding hard.

“Master!”

Temidare ducked, reloading. His hands were smeared with his own blood. Jan rushed to his side.

“Damn it, what should we do…” he muttered as he looked at Temidare’s wounds uncertainly.

Temidare stood up, took a shot – followed by a scream -, and sat back down. He then gripped Jan’s shoulder tightly, smearing his robes with his blood.

“Jan, get out of here. Get Elisabeth as far away from here as possible.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll hold them off.”

“You can’t seriously think you’ll survive against them in this state?”

Temidare smiled ironically. “Who said I’m going to survive?”

Temidare stood back up and took another shot, before sitting down and looking at Jan straight in the eyes.

“Jan, listen to me. All that matters now is that that bastard Lutz doesn’t get his hands on her. As long as that stays true, we win.”

Jan was unsure, his hands shaking.

But Temidare slapped him.

“Go! Now!” he shouted at him before standing up and shooting again.

There was no time to hesitate. Jan ran towards the side of the bed and shook Elisabeth up. She seemed too weak to walk on her own, so Jan prepared to carry her. Before that, Jan went back and placed the gun near Temidare’s foot. But Temidare kicked it back towards him.

“You’re going to need it! I’ll be fine,” he declared. “Nichts ist wahr, alles est erlaubt.”

Jan nodded. He had Elisabeth climb his back and together they slipped out of the back door.

It was the last Jan ever saw of Temidare. As his parting words, he had declared the Creed, his faith in it unshakeable until the end. But as Jan made his way through the forest, going east into Czechoslovakia, he could only think of the futility of it all – including the Creed.

Chapter Text

Czechoslovak-German Border – 10 August 1944

Shots rang out in the forest as Jan and the pursuing Assassins engaged in a firefight. Elisabeth was helping, but she was nowhere near her peak. Her reloading was slow; her shots went wide. She was better – he didn’t have to carry her that much anymore – but she still wasn’t the old Elisabeth.

Jan leaned out of the rock he was hiding behind and aimed down the sight of his rifle. He had taken it from a dead Assassin just the day before. It didn’t take long before he had his target, and he pulled the trigger. The Assassin screamed in pain as the bullet went straight through his thigh. He fell onto the forest floor.

Jan was about to fire the final shot when the other Assassins concentrated their fire on him. He was forced to duck back into cover. They dragged him out of range, and soon the firing petered out. This was not the end of the battle. They had not won. This was just an interlude.

Jan went back towards Elisabeth, who was leaning behind a tree only a few paces from the rock. She was crouching, sweating buckets and heaving heavily when he arrived.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Elisabeth nodded. She pulled herself up slowly. Jan offered his hand to help, but she gestured that she was fine. Jan saw no blood, and that was good enough for him.

“How are you feeling?”

“I-I couldn’t take any of them down….”

“It’s fine, they were well-trained. They are Assassins after all.”

“That’s not it… I don’t know what’s happening to me. My head is always dizzy. I feel lethargic…”

She tried to take a step towards Jan but almost collapsed. Were it not for Jan catching her, she would’ve fallen face first onto the ground.

“It’s that damned machine…” she muttered. The anger barely registered as her voice was so weak.

“It’s okay,” Jan assured her. “We’re going somewhere safe. Somewhere a friend can help you.”

“What friends do we have left, Jan? We have no family left. Kevin is dead. The Council is dead. Master Temidare…”

Jan didn’t respond to her. He just held out his hand. She stared at him for a few moments but then took it. Hand in hand, they continued walking east.

As the sun dipped below the horizon – not that they could see much of it in the forest - the air grew colder. Ever since they left the mansion where Temidare had his last stand, they had not had proper rest nor proper heating. They had been sleeping inside overturned, rotting ancient logs or sometimes just directly on the forest floor.

This is definitely not helping Elisabeth, Jan thought to himself.

In the middle of the forest, they found a small cave hidden beneath a stone canopy. It didn’t run too deep, probably 5 metres at most according to Jan’s estimates. It went like a downward slope that wasn’t too steep. After making sure it wasn’t the den of some animal, they sat there in the dark. They could see nothing, but at least it wasn’t as cold inside.

They sat in silence for several hours. Since it was dark, Jan couldn’t be sure whether Elisabeth was sleeping or not. Recently, she had been sleeping more than she had been awake. Just in case she was sleeping, Jan stayed awake.

“Jan, are you awake?” she called out suddenly, her voice crisp and clear in the darkness.

Jan nodded but then realised she couldn’t see him. “Yeah.”

“Do you think we lost them?”

“I think so, but we can’t be sure.”

“…”

“…”

“Jan.”

“Yeah?”

“If push comes to shove, I want you to do it.”

“Do what?”

“You can’t let them get a hold of me.”

“What are you saying, Elisabeth?”

“They want me. You know why. So, if there’s no other choice, I want you to kill me.”

Those heavy words hung in the air like bullets stopped midair.

“They won’t get you.”

“What if they do?”

“They won’t, because we’re so near the Czechoslovak border.”

“And then what?”

“I know some people. They can help us.”

“Czechoslovakia is only a stone’s throw away from Germany.”

“Then we’ll keep going east. Through the Soviet Union, maybe even reach Asia.”

“And what if we don’t?”

“Will you stop saying that?” His words cut through the air.

“Jan…”

“Don’t go thinking that I’m going to let them get you.”

“I’m not thinking that.”

“Then why are you saying these things?”

“Because we need a backup plan. I don’t plan on giving up, but we need to be realistic. We’re one and a half Assassin against an army. The Templars and their goons would love to get their hands on us too. We have no friends, even if we get into Czechoslovakia. We have to prepare for the worst.”

Jan ignored her, not saying anything in response. But she pressed on.

“Things are out of control. And we helped make it happen. Isn’t it only right that we pay the price?”

“I’ve already paid too high of a price. I’m not going to lose you too.”

“Jan…”

“If I had known the Brotherhood would lead me here, I would’ve stayed as far away as I could.”

“But you couldn’t have known, and neither could I. And you wouldn’t have left either way as long as your family was there.”

Jan focused on what he could sense right now. The cool, damp air on his skin. The birds chirping in the distance. The rustling of the bushes and leaves.

Wait.

Jan told Elisabeth to be quiet and unslung his rifle. As silently as he could, he moved forward. The rustling was getting louder and louder. Jan rotated the safety on his rifle and aimed straight at the cave’s entrance.

The moment the light shone on their faces, Jan let out a shot. The light immediately went wild, the tranquil air punctured by the scream of the wounded Assassin.

“They’re here!” he heard someone shout.

At once the cave lit up with flashes of gunfire. They had the advantage as they could see the enemy in the light.

“Wait, what are you doing?” he heard one of them shout.

The next moment, something landed on the cave floor not far from Jan’s foot. Without thinking, he went straight for it. He grabbed it on the second try by some stroke of luck and threw it back out.

“Grenade!” they shouted right before an explosion rang outside.

“Come on, let’s go!” Jan shouted as he pulled Elisabeth behind him.

When Jan and Elisabeth reached the mouth of the cave, half the Assassins were still recovering their senses on the ground. Jan shot at the one who had got up and tried to shoot another, but he missed. Elisabeth tried, but none of her shots landed. The Assassins stood up and ran for cover as Elisabeth and Jan did the same. They traded bullets as Jan and Elisabeth kept moving behind, towards the east.

But shots started coming from behind. Hidden amongst the foliage, they were invisible to the two fugitives’ eyes. It was all they could do to not get hit. They shot back in both directions but, distracted by the number of enemies, their shots rarely hit the mark. What was worse was the fact that they were running out of ammunition.

So distracted were they that they weren’t aware of the grenade landing near them before ringing in their ears and the explosions sent them tumbling into the air.

For a few seconds, Jan couldn’t get up. His ears were in pain, and all he could see was white. Gradually, the ringing subsided and the colour returned to his vision. He forced himself to get up, remembering that he was there to protect Elisabeth. He got up so quickly that it surprised himself. But it wasn’t him who did it.

Two Assassins forced him up and pushed him down onto his knees. Jan did a quick count: there were 7 of them; three were wounded from the looks of the bleeding. They had Elisabeth on her knees as well across from him.

“You sure gave us quite a fight,” one of them, a woman, said. “But now it’s over. All those Assassins’ lives you took, and for what?”

Jan didn’t answer. He kept his eyes firmly on Elisabeth.

The woman went straight up to him, grabbed him by the jaw, and forced him to look her in the eyes.

“I’m talking to you, traitor.”

But still, Jan didn’t answer.

“Tch. I suppose not everyone wants last words. Don’t worry, the girl here will stay alive. After all, we can’t win the war without her. You, you won’t be a part of it though. So, I’ll be merciful today even though you don’t deserve it after killing my brothers and sisters. Give me your last words.”

Jan closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The woman came closer to try and hear what he was going to say. He opened his eyes and met hers. And then he spit into them. The woman let go of his jaw and jolted back.

“What are you, an animal?” she said as she wiped her face with her sleeve. “Whatever. The last thing she’ll ever see of you was you spitting. Time to die.”

She took out her pistol and held it right against Jan’s temple. As she was about to pull the trigger, Elisabeth shrieked like she had seen a ghost. Everyone’s attention turned to her.

Perfect.

With all his strength, Jan pulled the two Assassins holding him onto the ground and then wrenched himself free from their grasp. Their leader had just turned around when Jan sent an uppercut straight to her face.

He engaged his blades and went straight for Elisabeth. The four standing Assassins, panicking, brought up their guns – a mixture of rifles and pistols – and shot at him wildly. They mostly missed, but a few grazed Jan. But he felt nothing as he plunged his blade into the neck of the nearest Assassin. Leaping like a shadow, he went to the next one and slit his throat.

One of the two Assassins holding Elisabeth went forward. When Jan tried to go for his neck, he raised his rifle and blocked the blow. But Jan moved quickly, and with his other hand he plunged the blade deep into his stomach. Dying, the man grimaced in pain and fell back onto the ground. Jan’s line of sight was now clear: Elisabeth and the final standing Assassin.

But the final Assassin took out his gun and put it against Elisabeth’s head.

“Stay back! I’m warning you!”

“Are you stupid?” Jan said, not believing what he was seeing. “She’s who Lutz wants!”

“I’m not gonna say it again!” he said as he turned off the safety.

Jan raised his hands and moved back, not wanting to risk it. But Elisabeth moved her head back and bit into his wrist. He screamed in pain and let go of the pistol. Jan saw his chance, moved forward, and took it. Straight in the heart. The man looked at him with wild, wide eyes, before falling backwards as blood spread out beneath him.

Jan was heaving.

“Are you okay, Elisabeth?”

“Yeah,” she said as she slowly brought herself up, swaying slightly.

Jan knelt down and wiped his blades on the dead Assassin’s robes, cleaning the blood off of them.

“You bastards!” he heard the leader shout.

He turned around. Her gun was up. It was aimed at Elisabeth, who was looking at her too. Jan ran for her.

But Elisabeth was already falling before he had reached her. The barrel of the Assassin’s gun was smoking.

“Elisabeth!”

He had failed.

Chapter Text

Czechoslovak-German Border – 10 August 1944

Before Elisabeth had fallen onto the ground, Jan had picked up the dead Assassin’s pistol and shot her killer dead. But that didn’t matter to him. He rushed towards Elisabeth, catching her just as she was about to hit the dirt.

“Elisabeth!”

He held her in his arms. Blood was quickly spreading from where she had been shot on her side. She was grimacing in pain and grasping tightly onto Jan’s arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said in advance as he pulled up her shirt to reveal the wound.

Where the bullet had entered was clear as day from the all the blood spilling out of it, but there was no exit wound.

“The bullet’s still inside. We need to get it out…”

But he was no doctor. He didn’t know how to do that, but he knew enough to know that he could potentially infect the wound without sterilised gear.

“We need to get you medical attention. Our best bet is to keep moving towards Czechoslovakia. We’ll get help there.”

Elisabeth nodded wordlessly. Jan brought her up onto his arms and carried her. They left the scene of carnage in the forest, leaving the dead and dying Assassins.

Thankfully, they didn’t meet anymore Assassins. Jan walked through day and night, resting only for short periods, through the forest. He kept heading east, sure of his way even when it wasn’t clear to Elisabeth. Under normal circumstances, his arms would be aching. But this was not normal circumstances.

Rain started falling. Jan could go on, but he was concerned about Elisabeth. She was getting paler and paler and had stopped talking some time ago. Though her heart was still beating, the cold from the rain would be doing her no good.

He stopped under a cliffside that covered them just enough from the rain. Leaving Elisabeth on the ground with his cloak as her bed, he went around collecting firewood. After some considerable difficulty, he managed to start a fire. It would give their position away, but it’d been some days since the encounter with the Assassins, and he had seen not a single living soul.

Jan didn’t sleep. In fact, he hadn’t slept much at all the past few days. With Elisabeth out of commission, he had to stay alert for the both of them. He had stopped the bleeding with a tourniquet, but there was little else he could do. In the night, bathed by the light of the fire, he stared at Elisabeth, hoping to whoever’s out there – God? – that the last person he cared about on this world would not leave him too. He didn’t know how long he had been staring, but Elisabeth’s weak call jolted him back to reality.

“Jan…”

He immediately got up and went to her side.

“Yeah?” he said as he held her hand. Her face was almost as pale as a corpse.

“I don’t think I’m going to make it…,” she said weakly, her voice trailing off.

“No, don’t you say that,” Jan said firmly. “Don’t give up on me. We can make it. I’ll get you there.”

She looked at him with her half-closed, tired eyes. Then she smiled.

“It’s not giving up, Jan,” she said in the kindest voice he had ever heard from her. “It’s reality.”

“If you keep thinking that way, it will become reality. You can’t think that way. You have to have faith that you’re going to make it.”

“Jan…”

“I think we’ve rested enough. Don’t worry, you won’t need to lift even a finger.”

“Jan…”

“I’ll carry you again,” Jan said as he tried to get up.

But Elisabeth pulled him back down, tugging on the hand that she still held.

“Jan. Please.”

Her eyes were so, so tired. Jan held her hand tightly with both of his as tears began rolling down his eyes.

“We were so close…,” he muttered.

“Hey,” she called out. “Look at me.”

And so, Jan did.

“Whatever’s happened, I’m glad. I found friends to fight by my side in the same war: you and Kevin. Maybe it’s better this way. Lutz won’t be able to use me. When I’ve passed, make sure you get rid of my body, okay? Make sure they won’t find it.”

Jan was silent, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

“When I’m gone, keep moving forward, okay? Just remember me from time to time. But if it’s too difficult to remember me, then forget about me. You’re alive, and you should stay in the world of the living. Don’t let me drag you down. Keep fighting the good fight, keep being you. Okay?”

Jan nodded weakly.

Several moments passed without them exchanging any words. Jan kept his eyes on Elisabeth’s face, but Elisabeth’s eyes were closed. She was still breathing but resting.

Then, she opened her eyes. She let go of Jan’s hands and brought her hand up to Jan’s face. She caressed his cheek. Jan was speechless.

“In another life…” she said weakly.

She brought her hand back down and held Jan’s hand again.

“Nichts ist wahr, alles ist erlaubt,” she said faintly, barely audible. Even in her final moments, she was still a true Assassin.

Jan didn’t know whether she knew those would be her final words. But not long after, she breathed her last breath and ceased to be a part of this world. Jan held her cold hand tightly, not letting go for what seemed to be an eternity. Alone in this corner of the forest, surrounded by rain and thunder, he sobbed.

To him, her last words rang hollow, as empty as everything there: the forest, and him.

Chapter Text

Menec, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – 16 August 1944

It was about 2 in the morning when Jan and Father Denis arrived at the clearing in the forest. They carried only one dim torch between the two of them. This was a burial of utmost secrecy, and nobody could know. The wisest thing to do would be to burn the body. Leave nothing behind. But Jan wanted a proper burial for Elisabeth.

Jan had waited until it was almost midnight before he emerged from the forest and entered the village. Carrying Elisabeth’s cold body covered entirely by his robe, he headed straight for the church as silently as he could. Given the unholy hour, it took a few knocks before Father Denis, still in his bedclothes, came out. To say that he was surprised to see Jan would be an understatement.

Father Denis told him that he couldn’t hold a proper church funeral – even a discreet one – for Elisabeth, because she had not been a Catholic. But he agreed to help him bury her and do some of the rites that he could do, and that was enough for Jan.

Father Denis prepared the body while Jan took the shovel from the cart that they had used to bring the coffin. It was a bit too small for Elisabeth, but it was the only one that was in the church. Jan did not want the village carpenter to know. He dug a grave into the ground as deep as he could to fully hold Elisabeth’s coffin.

“That should be enough, Jan,” Father Denis told him.

Jan climbed out of the hole and, together with Father Denis, he pushed the coffin into the grave. Jan remained silent throughout the whole process, and Father Denis did nothing for a while too. Finally, Father Denis asked whether he should start the rites. Jan nodded.

Father Denis began with a prayer in Latin, which he later learnt was called Subvenite Sancti Dei – “Come to her aid, O saints of God”. Afterwards, he recited a Psalm from the Bible before ending it with a prayer in German so Jan could understand.

“May the angels lead you into paradise; may the martyrs receive you at your arrival and lead you to the holy city of Jerusalem. We commend your servant to Almighty God, and we commit her body to the ground: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From the earth you came, to the earth you shall return.”

Then Father Denis took a small handful of earth and threw it onto the coffin. He then did it twice more, forming a cross, repeating once again: “Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

He took another handful of dust and offered it to Jan. Wordlessly, he took it and cast the handful of soil onto the coffin as well. Afterwards, Jan began shoveling earth onto the coffin until they could see it no more.

It was done. Elisabeth was now part of the earth, no longer part of the living, and he would never see her again.

Jan spent the next several days with no particular direction. He wanted to be near Elisabeth’s grave, but standing there would’ve been suspicious. If any Assassins had been watching, they would’ve known immediately that that’s where they should be searching. So, he confined himself to the parish church.

He was not a religious man and never had been. But something was drawing him there. Outside his sleeping hours, he sat on the pews doing nothing in particular. Sometimes he would stare at Jesus on the cross, or at a small statue of the Virgin Mary in the alcove.

The villagers vaguely knew who he was. They remembered him from his time there. But his eyes were so empty, his face two decades older, his shoulders so heavy under some unseen weight, that they did little than greet him.

It was a day like any other, and Jan was sitting on the pews. He was staring emptily at the altar when the calling of his name shook him out of his reverie. He turned around to see Father Denis standing at the open doorway, in his farming clothes complete with a farmer’s hat.

“Sorry, Jan, are you busy?”

“What is it, Father?”

“I was wondering if you could help me.”

“With what?”

“The garden.”

“I’m no farmer.”

“You don’t need to be. I just need a younger man’s help is all. This back isn’t what it used to be,” he said, chuckling.

Since he was free, he decided to help the priest. He nodded his agreement without saying a word and they went into the garden.

The sun was shining bright, but despite that Jan could only describe the weather as warm. Jan helped Father Denis with a lot of things. He helped dig up potatoes, carrots, onions, garlic, and beets. He picked tomatoes, cucumbers, zucchini, and beans. He weeded the garden and watered the plants. He helped clear the field of finished crops and sowed the winter crops: turnips, radishes, and winter lettuce. Then, he helped carry the produce into the small shed near the church.

And for quite some time, that was what Jan did. He’d help Father Denis with the garden. He’d help with repairs to the church, along with some villagers. Some of the floorboards were rotting, and the lights needed tending to. As time went by, he started helping the villagers again. Mostly carrying stuff but also helping the carpenter.

Every once in a while, some partisans would come. Jan would help with their wounds. Some of them would remember him, and ask him to help them, but he would refuse. And so Jan lived that life, like a leaf drifting in the wind, stuck in a clearing.

But even in between all those activities, Jan still found time to sit alone in silence in between the pews. Though his body wasn’t doing anything, his mind was hard at work. He thought through everything he had experienced. Everything since Kristallnacht when his father was killed.

First, he lost his father. Assassinated by Templars, by his own best friend.

Then, he lost his brother. Killed in faraway Italy. There was no warning, no goodbye, no closure. He never even got to see the body.

Then, he lost Kevin. Killed in the fight.

Then, he lost his mother. The last family he had. Killed in a shootout.

Then, he lost Elisabeth.

What else can he lose?

He was so deep in his thoughts that he didn’t notice that at some point Father Denis had sat down on the same pew he was sitting on. They looked at the altar together, not saying a word. It was when Father Denis finally said something that he noticed.

“Simple old thing, isn’t it?”

Jan said nothing.

“Are you a man of faith, Jan?”

Jan shook his head.

“Neither was I,” he said. “Not for a long time. They say that the statues of Jesus, Mary, the saints in the cathedrals in the big cities are beautiful. Works of art. But in this little village outside of Prague, we have no such thing. Just a simple, carved Jesus hanging on the cross behind the altar, and a decently made stone statue of Mary.

“They were both already here when I arrived, you know. And they were here during the time of the parish priest before me, Father Bohumil. He was a good man. He’s buried out in the cemetery.”

Then the silence returned, before Father Denis broke it once again. He looked at Jan.

“What are you thinking about, Jan?”

“Did you have family, Father?” he asked.

“Oh yes,” he said. “I came from a big family. Peasants in Bavaria. I was the sixth child out of nine. Three boys and six girls.”

“Where are they now?”

“By God’s side. My father was killed in the Boxer Rebellion. Do you know what that is? My father was a soldier. He went all the way to China to fight in the Empire’s war, and he came back a coffin.”

“What about your mother and siblings?”

“Ah, them,” he says, in a more solemn tone. “They were all killed.”

Jan was surprised.

“What happened?”

“The Templars did. My family weren’t Assassins. We were just simple farmers. I later learnt all the details from the Brotherhood, but the Templars were hunting some of them down in my area. They hid in my village. The Templars found some of them and executed them. My brother Gustav and sister Johanna were unfortunate enough to be witnesses to it.

“When the Templars noticed us, we ran away. Straight home. Couldn’t leave any witnesses, you know? They slaughtered my family. I won’t ever forget it. My sister Frieda and I hid in an outhouse while the rest of my family were screaming as the Templars killed them all.

“But they found us too. They killed my sister. Right in front of me. They would’ve killed me too if some Assassins hadn’t come and killed them first. That’s how I joined the Brotherhood.”

Jan felt a mixture of emotions. On the one hand, he felt sorry. He felt as if he was so focused on his own suffering that he forgot that he is one of many in this world, one of many who suffer. But on the other hand, to a grieving man there is no grief worse than his own.

“What do I do now, Father?”

He then asked.

“I’ve lost everything. Everything. Not just the people I loved. My family. My friends. I’ve also lost the very thing that’s defined me since my childhood: the Brotherhood. I feel as though everything I’d ever believed in was at best empty, at worst a lie. With no one and nothing to live for, what do I do?”

“Are you saying that you’re useless now? That you have no purpose on this world because everyone and everything you cared about are no longer here?”

Jan nodded.

“Everyone has a purpose, Jan.” He looked to the statue of Jesus. “God put us all on this world, full of suffering as it is, for a purpose. All for the greater good, for His will. I don’t think it was chance that you survived and that you’re here, relatively safe.”

“I was lucky. I barely survived.”

“There is no such thing as luck,” Father Denis declared. “No such thing as chance either. Everything was God’s will. The question is Jan, why did He keep you alive?”

“To torment me?”

“Do you believe that what you did was right?”

“I don’t know anymore.”

“Did you believe that you were trying to do what was right?”

“I did.”

“Do you still want to do what is right?”

“Of course.”

“Why?”

“Because despite it all, my parents raised me to believe in that.”

“Then that is your answer,” Father Denis said. “God says your job is not done here on this world. You still have a duty to do. Through your parents, God put that innate desire to do what is right for the world in your heart. The Brotherhood be damned. To hell with the Creed. Those are the creations of man. But the eternal God, who is above all and who has always been, decided that you had to survive, and there is a reason for it.”

Father Denis stood up and headed back towards the garden.

“I wouldn’t have allowed you to stay with me, fed you, if you didn’t have a purpose in this world, Jan. There is no one in the world without a purpose. If you’re not sure if there’s even any meaning anymore, then look at the faces of the people you work with in this village.”

And with that, he went out into the garden, leaving Jan with his words, a mind full of questions, and a heart burning with fire. Jan began quietly crying, sobbing, letting it all hit him once again after avoiding all those feelings for weeks. And then he stared at the statue of Jesus on the cross and thought about what Father Denis said.

Chapter Text

Menec, Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia – 20 September 1944

Father Denis awoke one day to find Jan already sitting on the pews, staring at Jesus on the cross at the back of the altar. As usual, he sat down several seats from Jan. They’d do this every once in a while, not saying a word for at least a good 15 minutes.

But this time was different.

“Father,” Jan called.

“Yes?”

“Thank you for everything.”

Father Denis turned his head towards Jan.

“That sounds like a goodbye.”

“It is, at least for now.”

“Where are you going?”

Jan stood up and revealed a bag that he had placed by his side, packed with what he needed. He turned to face Father Denis.

“I don’t know yet. But I feel like if I stay here like this, I won’t ever move again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“No,” Jan said, shaking his head. “No, it wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t be at peace. Like you said, Father. I still have a job to do. And I haven’t finished it.”

“So, you will rejoin the fight? Rejoin the Brotherhood against the Templars?”

“No,” Jan answered firmly. “The Brotherhood is dead to me. Them, the Templars… They’re not much different.”

Jan picked up the bag and started walking towards the exit.

“I’ll do what I have to do, wherever I can.”

Father Denis stood up and went towards him.

“So, is this a permanent goodbye?”

“I don’t know yet, Father. I don’t know. I might not even be alive at the end of this.”

Then he turned back to Father Denis once again.

“We might never see each other,” he said to the priest. “But from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Be well, father. Pray for me.”

And with those words, without turning around once more, Jan left Menec and went back into the world.

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Berlin, Germany – 30 April 1945

The heavy steel door opened. A guard of the Führerbegleitkommando – “Führer Escort Command” – was already pointing his rifle out. Two of them came out and scanned the area. It was empty, but in the background were the sounds of gunfire and artillery as the Soviet Red Army destroyed the city block by block.

After looking at every corner they could see, the two guards signaled to their comrades still inside.

“Clear!” they shouted.

One guard kept the door open as his commander stepped through in his coat and hat. As he left, another guard came to his side, while the two guards at the back closed the door.

His name was Adolf Hitler.

“Fritz,” the Führer called.

The soldier next to him came closer. “Yes, mein Führer?”

“Did everything go as I instructed?”

“Yes, mein Führer. Your body double was executed – along with Eva Braun – and left in your room.”

“No witnesses?”

The guard shook his head.

“Very good,” Hitler said. “Now, let’s go meet this ‘C’”.

A shot rang out. The guard next to Hitler fell back, his hand grasping desperately at the hole in his neck from which blood was pouring out.

“Sniper!” shouted another guard.

One guard immediately went to Hitler’s side and ran towards the entrance to the bunker for cover, hiding behind the wall.

“Stay down, mein Führer!”

The other four guards were returning fire wildly, shooting at every direction. The shot came out of nowhere, not giving them a chance to see the flash.

The guard next to Hitler leaned out from behind the wall to see and was greeted by a bullet, almost destroying his head as it hit his nose. He fell back dead.

“The left! The left!” shouted another guard before he too was gunned down.

“We need to get the Führer back into the bu-”

Another.

“Verdammt!” Hitler shouted as he went to the bunker door and tried to open it. Behind him, gunfire raged as the two remaining guards tried to take out the lone sniper in the building. The sniper missed, but not a lot.

Another of the guards killed. The last guard unleashed his entire magazine on the sniper and ran for the bunker door, but he too was shot. He was still alive when he fell to the ground. Grimacing in pain, he crawled his way towards Hitler, who couldn’t get the bunker doors open. Hitler’s shouts for someone from the inside to open it went unanswered. The guard left a trail of blood as he dragged his body.

The sniper put the rifle on his back and climbed out of the window. Nimbly, as if he had done it his entire life, he climbed down the side of the building and leapt onto the ground crouching. He walked briskly towards the crawling soldier, took out his pistol, and shot him in the back of the head.

Hitler turned around and went for his own pistol, but it was too late. The sniper had, in the blink of an eye, closed the distance and twisted the pistol of out his hand. In the darkness of the entrance, Hitler couldn’t see who it was beneath the hood.

“Are you Soviet? Take me to Stalin,” he said desperately, but also with anger.

Wordlessly, the sniper brought the pistol to Hitler’s head and shot him. The dictator fell dead on the ground, slumping lifeless against the wall, a splatter of blood behind him.

The sniper knelt down and opened the dead man’s pouch, taking out a glowing, glass orb.

“The Apple…” muttered the Assassin to himself.

He put it into his own pouch and took one last look at Hitler’s corpse. Customarily, one would say to the dead to rest in peace. But the Assassin spat on his corpse as he walked away.

He walked back into the slowly setting sun and the strewn corpses on the ground.

But he felt a presence.

He turned around just in time to see the Assassin pounce on him, hidden blade engaged.

The next moment, he was on the ground, gasping for life. Blood was seeping out of his mouth, and the colour was draining from his face. His assailant kicked away his pistol and stooped down to take the Apple from his pouch. He held it in his hand and stared at it for a moment, before putting it into his own.

“Jan…”

Without responding, Jan turned around and stared to walk away.

“You traitor…”

Jan stopped in his tracks. He turned around and stared straight at the dying Assassin.

“Goodbye, Caspar.”

“Lutz will-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Jan had shot him in the head. He took out the magazine from the smoking gun to check how many bullets he had left before putting it back in its holster. He turned around once again, leaving the corpses of Hitler, an Assassin, and six Nazi guards.

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Hikawa Maru, Pacific Ocean – 25 April 1947

Having spent his entire life on land, Jan was not used to the ship. He felt ill at ease. Some of the passengers, mostly Japanese, looked at him with curiosity. He was, except for a few Allied personnel, the only European foreigner on board.

And it hadn’t been easy to get on board in the first place. After evading both Assassins and Templars for the past 2 years – and killing many in the process – he had made his way to Hamburg by train. From there, he took a ship for Genoa in Italy. There, he was ambushed by Templars: a whole squad of them posing as police officers. Leaving none alive, he managed to get passage on a ship bound for Singapore. On the way, he passed through the Suez Canal and the Indian Ocean. Once in Singapore, he took a ship to Yokohama, from where he boarded the Hikawa Maru on its way to Seattle in the United States.

It had been the journey of a lifetime for him. Never had he seen so many places that looked so different from Europe. His whole world had been central and eastern Europe. But he saw the Mediterranean Coast from Genoa, the sands of Egypt from the Suez Canal, the hot tropical island of Singapore, and oriental Japan. That’s where he found the Hikawa Maru.

Jan went onto the deck and looked out at the setting sun. The eye of the day slowly disappeared into the horizon, casting a golden glow on the waters of the ocean. The day was ending, but Jan felt it wasn’t the only thing coming to an end. He’d been fighting his whole life thus far, ever since that day: Kristallnacht. And now, he’s finally at the end.

Now, it was time to finish the job.

He took off the satchel hanging from his shoulder. Making sure there was nobody around him, no prying eyes and no listening ears, he opened it.

The Apple glowed brightly, with lines and clusters of light all across its surface. But it didn’t stay dormant. The lines moved, and there was a small humming noise.

Satisfied, he closed the satchel once again. Taking one good look at it, and at the setting sun, he threw it into the water. It fell with a splash, with no one to notice except him. He watched it as, like the sun, it disappeared from his view, swallowed by the waves.

It was done.

He spent a few moments there before going back towards his cabin.

In the end, he didn’t know what the Apple was. He knew it wasn’t made by humans, and how it worked was well beyond human knowledge. Was it supernatural? Was it a machine? Was it made by the so-called Those Who Came Before? He never knew.

And he felt humanity should probably never know.

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Menec, Czech Republic – 3 February 1995

Filip closed the journal just as Father David came in.

“Everything okay, Mr. Richter?” asked the friendly priest, smiling.

“Yes, Father,” he answered, smiling back. “The Municipal Office should have everything it needs.”

“If there’s anything more I could help with, I’d be glad to.”

“Thank you, Father, but that won’t be necessary, I think.”

“Do you know if he has any relatives?”

Filip shook his head. “No, unfortunately. You said he was unmarried and had no children?”

“Yes,” as they started to walk towards the front door. “Ask anyone in the village though, and they’ll tell you he was a big part of their lives. Mr. Jan Havel has lived here for more than 40 years and has been an important part of the community.”

“I can imagine so,” Filip said as he surreptitiously put the journal in his bag. “I can think of no other case where an entire village would pitch in for the funeral of one of their own without relatives.”

“He really was,” continued Father David. “He was a good friend of Father Denis, the parish priest before me. He was very welcoming when I came here to help the aging Father Denis.”

“So, he was a believer then?”

Father David nodded. “Very much so. A man of deep faith.”

They reached the door and left the house. Father David locked the door behind him and together they walked down the street.

“I do hope you find Mr. Havel’s relatives. He always had this sad look about him, even when he was at his most joyous, like a shadow that always followed him.”

Filip just smiled and told him he’d do his best. They shook hands and Filip got into his car.

He took one last look at the house. Father David was waving goodbye, but Filip kept his eyes on the front door.

“Requiescat in pace,” he said quietly before driving away.

It took about an hour to get to headquarters from Menec. He parked his car outside of the bookstore and went straight into the back, where his colleagues were waiting for him.

“So, Filip?” asked one of them.

Filip shook his head.

“He did get an Apple,” he told them, showing them the journal. “But he dropped it somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.”

“So, what the German Brotherhood said was true. I can’t believe we let a traitor live so near Prague without us ever realising.”

“Well, he’s dead now. And it seems after all that, he never did much beyond live in that village.”

“Alright. Good job, Filip. We’ll need to rethink now.”

The three Assassins who had been waiting for Filip dispersed. The journal was still on the table. Filip flipped through the pages once more, thoughts swirling in his head.

A traitor? He thought to himself.

He closed the journal and put it back into his bag. He went after his friends. But he couldn’t stop thinking about the journal, and about the life he had just read about.

If all that had happened to him, he’s not sure he would still believe in the Brotherhood either. The Brotherhood has changed though, since the time of Jan Adler.

Has it? He doesn’t know.

They still think Jan Adler was a traitor.

Was he?

Filip didn’t know the answer, at least not yet. But the question remained in his head, and his heart. Jan was no longer in this world. Yet the words of this dead man did not stop ringing in his head.

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Hi, everyone.

If you’ve reached this afterword after reading through my entire fanfiction, I’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart. This is actually a story that’s had a very long journey. It began back in the mid-2010s and only ended this year. It went through one iteration before I decided to rewrite it here. And even then, it took so long to finish it. Sometimes I wasn’t in the mood to write, other times I hit a block.

But I finally finished it. It is a mess, I honestly think. But it is my mess, and it is the first book-length mess I’ve made. I’m proud to have finished it. Am I proud of how I did? Not really. I think there were a lot of ways I could’ve written this better. But that’s the point. I learnt so much here, and I hope my future stories are better written because of this.

This story will always have a special place in my heart. Despite its less-than-ideal execution, I still love the theme that I wanted to explore with Jan: the complexity and questionability of the Creed.

Once again from the bottom of my heart, for those of you who read through my entire story, I thank you. For those of you who read part of it, I thank you too. I’m just happy someone read it. I hope to become better at writing, and I’ll look fondly on this as my first step.

If you have any feedback for me, I’d love to hear it.

Thank you!