Florence was alive.
The streets pulsed with energy—merchants calling out their wares, children darting between stalls, noblewomen gliding past in silks that whispered of old money and new gossip. Everything was so vivid. The sounds, the smells—the lingering aroma of baked bread, the pungent bite of tanned leather, the underlying hint of sewage wafting through narrow alleys—all of it wrapped around me like a second skin.
This was no rendered open world. This was real.
I stuck close to Maria Auditore as we moved through the crowd, doing my best to play the obedient son while my eyes scanned everything. The people. The architecture. The patterns of city guards. It was like my gamer instincts were cranked to eleven.
And then it happened.
[Eagle Vision Unlocked – Passive Detection Mode Enabled]
Whoa.
My vision shifted for a second. Colors dulled. Certain individuals glowed faintly—grey for civilians, blue for guards, red for enemies.
Red?
I narrowed my gaze, focusing on a pair of figures across the square. One leaned casually against a column, pretending to smoke from a pipe. The other sat near a fruit stand, eyes tracking Maria.
They were too calm. Too still.
And red.
Templars?
[Optional Objective Progress: 1/3 suspicious individuals identified.]
Nice. But also—what the hell are they doing here?
The Templars weren't supposed to make a serious move until later in the timeline. Maybe this was just flavor, a background threat. Or maybe the System was remixing canon to mess with me.
Either way, I wasn't about to let Maria walk into an ambush.
"Mother," I said, keeping my voice low as I stepped beside her, "mind if I go check the spice vendor over there? I heard they've got something rare in stock."
She gave me a puzzled glance but nodded. "Don't take long."
I slipped away casually, weaving through the crowd with what I hoped looked like teenage curiosity and not full-on recon mode. As I got closer to the first suspicious man, I caught snippets of his whispered conversation into a tiny scroll, likely encrypted.
"…Auditore… not federico... not Ezio … younger one…"
Oh. Oh that's not good.
They weren't tailing Maria.
They were tailing me.
A sharp pulse of adrenaline hit me.
[Quest Updated: A Stroll Through Firenze]
New Objective: Evade or Eliminate Pursuers
Reward: +250 XP | Bonus Reward: Hidden Blade Blueprint (Arno Variant)
Oh hell yes. But also: oh hell no.
I stepped into a shaded alleyway, slipped behind a hanging cloth, and waited. My pulse thudded in my ears. I wasn't armed. I didn't even have a knife. But if I could get behind one of them—
Footsteps.
Closer.
Closer.
And then—just as the man passed the alley entrance—I surged forward and tackled him. Hard. We went down in a heap of limbs and curses. I drove my knee into his gut, elbowed his jaw, and—
[+25 XP – Successful Stealth Takedown (Improvised)]
"Who sent you?" I hissed.
He spat blood and grinned. "You'll be dead before sundown, Auditore."
Charming.
He lunged suddenly. I barely twisted in time, grabbing a discarded cobblestone and slamming it against the side of his head.
He crumpled.
[+25 XP – Target Neutralized]
One down.
I bolted before anyone could gather around and dashed toward the fruit stand where the second man was. But he was already gone.
Damn it.
I scanned the rooftops. No sign of him.
[Optional Objective Completed – Templar Activity (Confirmed)]
[Objective – Evade or Eliminate Pursuers (Confirmed)]
[Reward: +1 Skill Point, +250 XP | Bonus Reward: Hidden Blade Blueprint (Arno Variant)]
I slowed my breathing and walked calmly back toward the spice vendor. Maria was still browsing saffron and cardamom, none the wiser.
She raised an eyebrow. "Did you find what you were looking for?"
"Yeah," I said, forcing a smile. "More than I bargained for, honestly."
Maria gave me a soft smile, clearly unaware that I'd just performed my first real-world stealth takedown. Or that I was possibly being hunted by Templars in broad daylight. You know—just typical errand day things.
We returned to the carriage shortly after. I kept glancing over my shoulder every few seconds, half-expecting the second Templar to leap from a rooftop with a sword in hand and an over-the-top villain monologue. But nothing happened. Just the ever-present buzz of Florence—alive, oblivious, and dangerous.
As the carriage wheels rolled over cobblestones, I leaned back and exhaled.
[+100 XP Earned]
[Current XP: 400/1000]
[Skill Points Available: 1]
I mentally tapped open the Skill Tree.
It flared to life, the spiderweb of Altair's talents now shimmering brighter than before. I scrolled past a few tempting ones—Eagle Sense, Momentum Kill, Improved Free Running—until my gaze landed on the one that called to me the most.
[Hidden Blade Proficiency (Level 1)—Learn to equip and use the Hidden Blade for basic stealth eliminations. Also unlocks blueprint crafting if schematics are acquired.]
[Cost: 1 SP]Status: [Unlock?] ✅
Oh, absolutely.
[Skill Unlocked: Hidden Blade Proficiency (Lv.1)]
[Crafting Option Unlocked – Hidden Blade (Variant: Arno Dorian)]
A faint shimmer passed over my wrist—just a feeling, a memory being embedded into muscle and mind. I could already feel the phantom weight of the blade. A click. A twitch of the ring finger. It was subtle, precise, and so damn cool.
Now all I needed was a blacksmith who wouldn't bat an eye when a fifteen-year-old asked to forge a wrist-mounted assassination device.
Easy, right?
Back at the villa, Maria told me to rest while she went to the kitchens. I nodded, said something about reading, and made a beeline for the west wing.
Ezio's room.
I had to know where he was—because if the Templars had eyes on me, there was a good chance they'd be watching him too.
The door was cracked open, and I peeked inside.
Empty.
But the bed was unmade, and his boots were gone. Typical Ezio—out gallivanting around town, no doubt wooing someone's daughter and punching a city guard in the face while doing it.
I sighed.
I had to prepare.
Which meant training.
Which meant finding a quiet place to test my limits.
As I snuck out toward the training grounds behind the villa, a soft chime echoed again.
—
[Hidden Quest Unlocked – Assassin's Memory I]
Title: Ghost of Masyaf
Objective: Awaken fragments of Altair's memory through focused training.
Requirements: Perform three stealth takedowns, scale three major rooftops, and meditate using Eagle Vision.
Reward: Passive Skill – Assassin's Focus (Slows time briefly during enemy detection).
Bonus Reward: +200 XP if completed before 48 in-game hours.
—
Well then.
A ticking clock, a brutal timeline, and enemies already sniffing around.
I cracked my knuckles and smiled to myself.
Challenge accepted.
The training grounds behind the Villa Auditore were quiet—too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin itch with the sense of something watching. I didn't mind. It was better this way.
I moved slowly across the cracked stone courtyard, my boots crunching against the gravel. Dummies stood like silent sentinels in a row, their cloth-stuffed torsos pierced with fading sword marks and arrows. I picked up a fallen practice dagger—wooden, chipped at the edge, but serviceable. For now.
I didn't have time to waste.
[Objective: Stealth Takedowns – 1/2]
[Objective: Rooftop Scaling – 0/3]
[Objective: Meditative Sync – 0/1]
"Alright, ghost of Masyaf," I whispered, twirling the wooden dagger in my hand. "Let's see what you've got buried in my head."
I didn't expect a response, but I could feel the pressure. Like someone else's memories were curling up beneath the surface, whispering to my nerves.
So I started with movement.
Free running wasn't new to me. I'd played enough Assassin's Creed to know the basics—even trained a bit back home with parkour tutorials, just for the fantasy of it. But this was different. This wasn't a controller and button prompts.
This was sweat.
This was muscle memory that didn't belong to me—but felt natural anyway.
Vault. Roll. Wall run. Grab ledge. Pull up. Leap.
It was like the world was designed for traversal. Every cracked wall, every jutting beam or low-hanging terrace was a new opportunity. I hit the side of a stable, flipped up to a hayloft, then launched off the second floor to grab the ledge of the main villa tower.
[+10 XP – Successful Parkour Chain]
I grinned. "Okay, that was sick."
Halfway up the villa tower, I pulled myself onto the roof tiles and stood to full height.
Florence stretched out in the distance—red roofs, white stone spires, the dome of Santa Maria del Fiore gleaming like a holy crown. It didn't feel like a backdrop anymore. It felt alive.
And I was in it.
[Objective: Rooftop Scaling – 1/3]
The wind tugged at my hair, and for a second, I just stood there—arms spread, breathing deep. Then I jumped.
One rooftop to another. Down a terrace. Up a chimney ledge. Across a hanging clothesline that nearly snapped under my weight. It was exhilarating. Every successful leap earned a silent cheer in my head.
[+15 XP – Rooftop Chain Complete]
[Objective: Rooftop Scaling – 2/3]
Then I saw a flicker.
Movement at the edge of the vineyard.
A figure. Hooded. Familiar?
No—wrong posture. Not an Auditore.
I crouched low, letting instinct take over. My hand found a small pouch of sand near a rooftop vent. I poured it slowly over my palm—dry, rough, perfect for grip—and dropped silently down to a lower beam.
He was moving fast. Looking for something. Or someone.
I followed.
Rooftop to rooftop. Shadow to shadow.
He stopped near the edge of the orchard where several crates were stacked like a supply drop. I watched him kneel behind one.
That's when I saw the flash of red cloth beneath his cloak.
[Templar Agent – Unaware]
[Assassin's Memory Objective Opportunity: Stealth Kill Eligible]
I moved.
Down the sloped roof. Onto a balcony. Slipped behind the tool shed. And then—before he could turn—I lunged.
Wooden dagger across the throat.
He slumped.
[+25 XP – Stealth Takedown (Improvised)]
[Objective: Stealth Takedowns – 2/2]
The pouch at his side caught my attention.
Inside: a folded map of the villa, circled points marked in red, including the bedrooms, stables, and—
Giovanni's study.
Damn.
So the second Templar hadn't run away earlier. He'd regrouped and come back. And now they were planning something big.
I shoved the map into my coat and dragged the body behind the crates. He wouldn't be found for hours.
One more rooftop. And then I could focus on the meditation part.
I scaled the final chimney near the estate chapel and let myself rest at the apex of the bell tower. The entire villa lay below me like a chessboard.
[Objective: Rooftop Scaling – 3/3 Completed]
[+25 XP]
With the height, the breeze, and the echo of distant bells, it felt like the world slowed around me. Which was fitting, considering the final requirement of the quest.
I closed my eyes.
[Initiating Eagle Meditation]
Breathe in.
Florence faded.
Breathe out.
A memory stirred—not mine. Altair's.
A blur of ancient stone. The Citadel of Masyaf. The scent of desert wind and old scrolls. The weight of a blade hidden beneath a white robe.
Suddenly—I was him.
A training hall. A young recruit before me. I moved with precision—disarming, ducking, flowing around attacks like water, like thought. The creed echoed in my mind:
— Nothing is true. Everything is permitted. —
And then I opened my eyes.
[+75 XP – Eagle Meditation Completed]
[Assassin's Memory I: COMPLETE]
[Reward Unlocked: Passive Skill – Assassin's Focus (Lv.1)]
[Assassin's Focus (Lv.1): Briefly slows time when detected, allowing a window to react, flee, or counter.]
Bonus XP Earned: +200
[Current XP: 750/1000]
As the final chime of the System faded from my ears, I stood up from the chapel's bell tower with a new sense of balance—like something ancient had just slid into place inside me. The wind shifted, and for a second, I swore I heard the distant call of an eagle.
Florence hadn't changed. But I had.
[Passive Skill Activated – Assassin's Focus (Lv.1)]
[Effect: 3-second slowdown upon being spotted. 60-second cooldown.]
Not flashy. Not game-breaking. But in this world, three seconds could mean the difference between a clean kill and a knife in the back.
I descended the tower in near silence, boots skimming rooftops and ledges like Florence herself was helping me move. As I neared the inner courtyard of the villa, I caught sight of a figure below.
Ezio.
He stood by the training dummy, shirt half-unbuttoned, twirling a practice sword like a smug bastard—which, to be fair, he was. But there was a strange comfort in it. The world hadn't collapsed yet. Not today.
He noticed me watching and smirked.
"You planning to drop down dramatically like some hooded demon, little brother?" he called up.
I raised a brow. "If I was, you'd be unconscious already."
"Big talk for someone who barely learned how to swing a blade last year."
He meant it as teasing, but he had no idea how far I'd come since this morning. I'd faced two Templars, unlocked a legendary skill, and felt the echo of a Master Assassin's mind. The old me? He might've flinched.
But now? I just grinned.
"I guess you'll have to keep up," I said and vaulted down to land beside him in a practiced roll. I straightened smoothly, brushing dust from my sleeve like I hadn't just parkour'd half the villa to get here.
Ezio looked mildly impressed—and a little suspicious.
"What have you been up to?"
"Reading," I said innocently. "Studying philosophy."
"Uh-huh. Philosophy on how to leap off rooftops and land like a cat?"
"It's a very… dynamic school of thought."
He laughed and tossed me a practice blade. I caught it without looking.
"You're in a good mood," he said. "Did something happen?"
I thought about lying. Then I thought about the map I'd stuffed into my coat—the one marking out our family's rooms like targets. About the Templars hunting me. About the ghost of Altair now living in my spine.
"Not yet," I said. "But it will."
His smirk faltered. He tilted his head. "What does that mean?"
I flipped the blade once in my hand, finding its balance. "It means I need to train. For real. No more games."
Ezio blinked at that. Maybe he finally sensed the weight in my tone.
He nodded once. "Alright then, Fratellino. Let's train."
And we did.
Swordplay. Footwork. Counters. He still had the edge on raw strength, but I had instincts now—Assassin instincts. When he overcommitted, I flowed around it. When he smirked mid-swing, I fainted and tapped his ribs with the flat of the blade.
By the end, we were both sweaty, bruised, and panting.
He threw a towel at me. "Okay. When did you get good?"
I shrugged. "I've been practicing."
***
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