Disclaimer: I don't own anything relating to the Assassin's Creed franchise except my OC creations.

CHAPTER 1

The Biggest Thing Since Boba Fett

"Out of business sale. Come one, come all."

"All sales are final."

"Comics, games, consoles, all must go!"

This caught the attention of a walking college student as she left the Barnes & Noble bookstore next door after buying a paperback about Arthurian legends and walked over to take a peek at the showcases. Apparently, the little comic book store was closing down and everything was on sale.

I may be a notorious bookworm but I'm a gamer at heart, she thought mischievously as the store drew her kid at heart inside and small black boots scuttled inside to explore what was left.

Her favorite and only console that she owned was the Playstation 3 platform and forsook the rest. Besides, college textbooks were expensive enough and as a double major in History and Psychology at UC Berkeley, she needed all the pennies she could spare. That's why she had bought her recent book in an 'on sale' pile of texts to build her personal library collection. Her father always instilled the love for the written word in his daughter and at twenty one, she aimed to gain all possible knowledge which is why the history of the world appealed to her along with the mysteries dwelling in the human mind itself.

Metal bins contained already discounted games and others stocked the white shelves according to each corresponding game console and her lips broke into a competitive grin. Time to nab some new games. With assertiveness that rivaled Ms. Pac-man, she wiggled through the crowds to nab any interesting action/RPG/and first shooter games she could find. Besides, if they weren't too interesting once played, EBay was only a click away.

After sorting through a bundle of ten, she narrowed them down to five because they would be worth half a year of entertainment and stress relief. Every college student needed a hobby to unwind with and hers was reading and gaming. Satisfied, she wandered past the consoles that people were sorting through (probably looking for that Rock Band stuff- not her style) and walked towards the back when her green eyes widened with a happy gleam.

Oh my Gandalf, she thought geekily and almost squeaked but remained nonchalant to the sight before her.

Life size character cut outs.

She passed by the fans mobbing for three Iron Man standees and laughed to herself when G1 Optimus Prime passed her by with its new ecstatic owner. Turning away, she tucked her games into the bent of her elbow and her jaw slackened when she saw the best character there in her opinion. No, not Solid Snake or Sub-Zero or Mario. Not even Halo.

The protagonist of Assassin's Creed, Altaïr Ibn. . .she couldn't pronounce the rest. A shame, really.

She stared awkwardly as four fans, three teenage girls and a boy, were fighting tooth and nail for an Ezio of AC II standee as obscenities and questions of the utmost fanatical were spouted. Everybody loves Ezio, apparently. Craftily, her feet scampered over quietly to the leftover standee that was surprisingly not receiving any attention and she sighed forlornly under her breath, "Hmm, I feel your pain, Altaïr. You started it all and yet they're fawning over the Italian heartthrob."

Her green eyes glanced down to several comic books she'd grabbed on her way in and darted over to the silent but oh so very realistic cut out to examine its condition. Hmm, she couldn't spend too much and to buy a standee like that would be about a hundred bucks at least since it was in mint condition. He was mocking her with that inconspicuous yet piercing assassin stare under the white hood as he pulled the strings on her sales resistance. It was practically talking to her, 'Why not take me? I'm far superior to comic books'.

'Yeah, but comic books go up in value and my future kids can sell 'em.'

'And I won't go up in value? I'm freakin' Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, the biggest badass since Boba Fett.'

'True, Boba Fett is pretty cool but-'

'Buy me!'

'But the comics-'

'You want another fan to buy me and probably dry hump me in their room?'

'Hmm-'

She shook her head to burst the dream bubble and brushed back locks of black hair as she mumbled under her breath sardonically, "Gotta stop those imaginary conversations."

Movement was caught by her peripheral vision and she lunged herself at the assassin cut out, clutching it in her hands to fight back the oncoming curious fans with a protective snap, "Get away! He's mine!"

They had the chance to nab Altaïr and chose Ezio so too bad, she thought smugly to her newfound treasure and was not letting it go. Dad always said loyalty is a virtue.

Despite her petite height of 5'3, she lugged the large cutout as she tucked her chosen items under her arms until she reached the cashier's desk with a pant at why the damn thing was so heavy. How could cardboard be that heavy? It was paper! She ignored all of the stares aimed at her and simply pulled out her MasterCard from her handbag to pipe up perkily, "I'll pay by credit."

"All sales are final."

"Trust me, I won't regret it."

Minutes later, she found herself before her four door Honda sedan and thinned her lips to shoot a sidelong glare at the unmoving cut out next to her to mutter flatly, "Huh, I should've thought this through before I left the store."

He won't fit in the trunk but I think he'll fit in the back seats, she pondered thoughtfully and tapped her chin on the best technique to stuff the standee inside. As long as his head doesn't stick out the window, he'll be fine. The last thing I want is a headless Altaïr.

"Let's get you home" she murmured halfheartedly and hoped this purchase wouldn't come back to bite her in the butt with the sting of a thousand blades.

Vivian Shore would literally be sulking over this purchase within twenty-four hours.

A teenage girl of sixteen stared with an expression full of bewilderment as her older sister dragged in a towering standee that dwarfed her height and she was about to ask what in the world possessed her to buy it but Vivian beat her to it with a stern gaze.

"Shut it, I pay rent, my room- my assassin" she summarized simply and lugged in all of her purchases with a grunt. So much for buying a new outfit for her current internship at the Natural History Museums. Her younger dark-haired sister was about to add in her own opinion on the game and Vivian cut her off again, "No more about Ezio. I wouldn't be surprised if all his rampant fans formed a cult. Go daydream about him elsewhere."

Natalia scowled for the verbal hit to her favorite hero and shot back sarcastically, "Should I leave you and your cardboard boyfriend alone? He'll turn into mush once he touches water like in the game."

"Ha ha, very mature" the other said dryly with a flat short laugh to the retort and carried on her way as her curious sister threatened to follow with more embarrassing jokes. Seriously, the Altaïr melting in water joke was getting old. Vivian waved her hand to bat Natalia away and told her absentmindedly, "Vete, niña del diablo."

The younger Shore girl objected to both the shooing and name calling, "Hey, you're more of psycho than I am!"

Vivian simply pointed down the hallway without another word as she stood before the door of her bedroom since tuition was costly enough that she remained with her family while studying for her degree. Natalia pouted to being brushed aside as the middle child of the family and practically found no fun with her youngest sister of five, Penelope, who was into tea parties and all that bubbly stuff little girls loved while the oldest was nose deep in books. Vivian's face softened to her sister's attempt at bonding and remembered all that teenage angst and need to fit in when she was that age and sighed, "Okay, you got me. Here, I bought some new games."

She handed her sister the plastic white bag of goodies and smiled encouragingly, "Go, enjoy a killing spree and blasting zombie brains on the streets."

The teenager yanked the bag eagerly into her hands and headed to her room like a roadrunner while the other woman shook her head in amusement. That would keep Natalia busy for a few hours until their dad told them to stop before the radiation rotted their brains. She looked to the inanimate standee next to her and stated, "Now, let's find you a spot to fit in."

Half an hour later had earned the woman multiple bruises from falling over the standee as she switched it more than a dozen times. A multitude of colorful Spanglish language later and a sandwich break had the student glaring down the standee as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

Even as a cut out, he manages to screw up my ideas, she thought irritably and tapped her fingers over her chin as she analyzed every open area left in her room. The spot near the door had frightened Penelope and sent her crying about robed strangers, in between the dresser and bathroom door had knocked her down onto the wooden floor, leaving him before the window would fade the pristine color. . .he was definitely a conundrum.

"I call a study break on early Mediterranean history" she sighed aloud in defeat and stood up to head towards her bookcase filled with leisure and college books. Cracking her brain on Mesopotamia from its Neolithic to Late Antiquity Age was easier than finding a suitable spot for the enigmatic assassin.

Another hour later with an assurance to Penelope that no evil men in white robes were roaming through their house, Vivian stood back with hands on her hips as she analyzed the destined spot at the side of her nightstand and nodded with both satisfaction and intense relief, "Perfect. No sun to fade color, good view to block out streetlight glow, good pose to scare any peepers, and I can walk around without tripping into you. Altaïr, we're going to be the best of roommates."

Unless Penelope remains frightened and then I'll be forced to put him in the garage, she grimaced visibly at the horrible idea of the standee spending its days locked away in the dark. If Toy Story taught me anything as a kid, it's to take good care of your belongings.

She plopped herself down on the bed to flip through her plastic box containing her first batch of favorite games and bit her bottom lip in concentration. Killzone 2- not in a blood frenzy mood today. Marvel Alliance- sorry Deadpool, no bullet barrages. Metal Gear Solid 4- hmm, Snake did have an Altaïr costume. . .but nah.

"I think I'll kill some Templars today to celebrate" she grinned goofily after her lucky buy in the gaming store and grabbed the game case with eager fingers. The Byzantine Empire and its religion would have to wait until later since class was in two days.

She turned back to look at the impassive form of the Altaïr cut out and grinned cheekily, Hmm, if they posed him like Uncle Sam, he would form masses of clubs just by saying 'I want you for the Assassin's Order'.

Footsteps passed over the floor in Malik's new study and he lowered his writing quill from the book he'd been writing regarding his customized fighting techniques. Altair kept going on about new techniques he had glimpsed into by spending time with the Apple of Eden but Malik distrusted that thing entirely and wished the other man had cast it away into the deepest part of the Mediterranean Sea. He glanced up to see the newest Grand Master of the Assassin's Order enter the room and greeted casually, "What brings you here today? The map isn't done yet-"

"No need, I drew it today after breakfast on a cloth napkin so you can just transfer it onto paper" Altaïr informed simply and chucked a mustard colored cloth at the wooden desk so Malik could inspect his handiwork. He wasn't a scholar so he scribbled down whatever he could with a stick of charcoal before heading out to train in the courtyard. New recruits meant more ass kicking and spirit hardening; he'd received it on his first day as a novice and would keep the tradition going (no matter the sadistic pleasure he got from it).

Malik's brown eyes stared at the item before his left eyebrow twitched in bafflement to the mushed continents the assassin had outlined. How had the man traveled the land with that illogical sense of navigation? He'd left out the entire ocean to the west for heaven's sake. He grabbed an ink bottle nearby and tilted it down to pour the contents over the napkin to coat it completely in black to erase the hypocrisy of such amateur map making. The other man was about to snap at him for his rash actions but the dai pointed out simply, "This stabs all the decency in the profession of cartography. It would be best to leave it to the professionals, Altaïr."

The assassin began to argue the validity of his map but Malik beat him to it again by stating sharply, "I was there after your fight with Al Mualim and I saw the same map as well. You know my mapping skills far exceed yours so concede to my knowledge. . ." a grin graced his face as he mocked, "Besides, if anyone wanted to travel from Portugal to Morocco, there would not be water this wide separating them and your legend would actually lead them only to Seville."

He pulled out a rolled parchment and stretched it flat over the desk to show the other man his own detailed version which rivaled the currently widely used map of Muhammad al-Idrisi, from 1154, except Malik had managed to draw the continent of Africa correctly unlike Altaïr's version that resembled a deformed hen's leg. The assassin had to grudgingly accept the better description that contained an accurate legend rather than his little scribble of half a finger totaling 10 miles.

"I am a man of the blade, not the written word" he stated surly in his defense and crossed his arms to read the map upside down as Malik studied his own work. Dots littered the known locations the Apple of Eden had shown them regarding the other lost pieces. Altaïr noticed the other half of the hemisphere had not been drawn and brought it up, "Where is the other half that the golden sphere showed us?"

"What do you think I am? A conjurer? Analysis and sketching takes time, you impatient man" Malik shot back for having his work questioned rather than receiving a decent 'thank you' for making it. Altaïr really needed to work on his interpersonal skills. He was about to design a map that nobody in the world probably had any clue of and the credit would fall to him on its perfect accuracy while keeping its validity without any actual proof. The assassin owed him big time.

Altaïr's brown eyes narrowed to the remark on his personality flaw and he questioned simply, "Then what have you been doing?"

"Writing down the countries" he answered sharply and waved his fingers dismissively towards his inked cloth as if it were a diseased ridden thing. The corners of his mouth hitched into a smirk as he added in airily, "Something you failed to do. Have you forgotten how to write, Altaïr?"

The other remained silent without any emotion betraying his hooded face before asking coldly, "What can you tell me about the known locations?"

Bantering aside, Malik pointed to the east and explained, "Asia has most in the southeast coast while the rest are to the west of the African continent and western Europe. Others border the floating continent below Asia and its nearby islands and two are located on the one bordering the bottom of the map. I need time to finish writing the known cities below the Saharan Desert but I can tell you right now it will be a long travel if you expect to chase them down."

His fingers that held specks of lingering charcoal tapped against the wood as he pondered aloud, "That land mass on the western side is a mystery to everyone. It has not been discovered by man and we don't know if it really exists at all! It will take me a while to draw it but even I doubt you could swim your way over there. You can swim, can't you?"

Altaïr avoided the jest and pointed to the bottom of the African continent and the small ridge of land that covered the entire south end of the golden map. "What will we name them since they aren't discovered?"

"As the cartographer, I call Malik's Sovereignty on this one" he joked wittily and pointed to the bottom continent that had no ending. Altaïr gave him a flat stare devoid of emotion for the wisecrack and Malik laughed to rile him, "Come now, do not tell me Al Mualim sucked the last ounce of humor from your heart?"

Instead of another impassive stare and a cold remark of the tongue, the Grand Master surprised the dai.

"I call Altaïr's Empire on the entire western half from start to bottom and Altaïr II on the isolated one below Asia" the assassin stated as he nabbed most of the land and Malik objected to his little portion. That only fueled Altaïr's verbal claim about the unconquered lands but the secretive lives of the Assassins would prevent such governmental power but joking about it lightened the mood. He placed a finger under his chin to muse aloud, "I could conquer your tiny land but my personal jester deserves half-decent commodities."

Malik reached forwards to punch the man's chest for being called that of all things but the assassin dodged with fluid ease as he backed away with a mocking grin on his hooded face. He shook his index finger at him and reminded, "You can't kill the new Grand Master. Now, I am off for very important duties."

"What? Skewering mice on your blade?" the dai joked dryly and rolled up his map with a careful hand to tuck it back into its hidden spot until he left for Jerusalem. The new leader of their order kept going back and forth on where to lead the Assassins as he spent his time locked away in his bedchambers with the piece of Eden. This had been his third trip to Masyaf so far as he wondered whether Altaïr would decide to abandon the fortress for a more secretive headquarters or leave it as it was.

Altaïr scoffed to the ridiculous insinuation of slaughtering rodents even though he did use them for target practice during his youth and informed smugly, "No, if you must know, I am going to meet the newest students to our Order and welcome them."

Malik shook his head with a short laugh to the man's sudden enthusiasm and pointed out sarcastically, "You mean dress as a Templar and wander the grounds to randomly 'test' each of them without stopping their hearts from fright or crush their hand in a handshake and send them to the healers with a broken leg."

"I said I would welcome them, I didn't say how" the hooded man restated with a light smirk and turned to head out the doorway. Besides, he had to fit into a Templar outfit and recheck his hiding spots which he would jump out at the newbies from as they took the tour of Masyaf.

"Oh-ho, can't catch me you stupid guards" Vivian cackled evilly as virtual Altaïr leapt from one rooftop to another in Jerusalem while running from those idiot guards that randomly appeared in hoards if you weren't careful. If the game was real, she'd think they traveled in packs just looking for trouble.

A miscalculation later had him landing on a fat passerby in dark robes that cushioned the slim man's fall but also alerted the idiot guards yet again. She frowned when the assassin failed to climb a nearby wall and she growled, "Climb, damn you. What's the point of using R1 and X if you're not going to?"

A group of five guards suddenly ganged up on the poor assassin and she angled the camera view (which could be a little annoying sometimes) to make him abort the climb and hightail it out of there. Vivian could only make poor Altaïr run amok through the streets as civilians failed to get out of the way. Seriously, if you had an assassin running straight at you, you would run the other way and not gawk stupidly until he ran you down.

"Out of the way, beggar lady" she hissed as annoyance began to seep into her mind because those particular women just never left Altaïr alone and practically ruined the camouflage of his blending into the crowds. She'd had informant target assassinations ruined that way too many times to feel pity for them. Now, she had beggars and guards trailing after him with no ladders, boxes, or bales of hay in sight to escape. Vivian was near tears of anger as she huffed aloud, "All he did was save a citizen and this is the thanks? This is worse than Emperor Titus and his man vs. animal fights to the death in the Colosseum. Total crap."

A metal pole sticking out horizontally from a nearby building grabbed her interest and she pressed the buttons for the climb but Altaïr only hung limply from it without any momentum to climb any further. Seriously?

"Oh, come on! You're supposed to be a master acrobat" she cried aloud in exasperation and continued the run again as one blasted guard managed to slash him across the back. The assassin targeted the closest one but she forsook it to make him run down the dusty streets again. . .where one of those mentally ill men punched him across the face. She paused the game for a second to pinch the bridge of her nose before she got a headache from the embarrassing game play and growled irritably, "Argh, why do the gaming gods conspire against me?"

Inhaling three deep breaths, she calmed herself and continued onwards as she had to admire Altaïr's never-ending running stamina unlike the Grand Theft Auto games that eventually tired the main character. She almost cheered like a kid on Christmas when she saw a ladder and jumped off her bed at the same time Altaïr climbed quickly onto the rooftops with haste in his steps as she made him head towards the Bureau while hopefully trying to find a place to hide.

Her green eyes stuck close to the assassin while the tips of her fingers became sweaty from the adrenaline rush and pushed for Altaïr to jump from one tall rooftop to another below and-

He literally froze in midair.

She choked to create any words as the damn glitch appeared in the worst possible time and flung her control onto the blue carpet surrounding her bed (her father was adamant his children's feet never touch cold floors to prevent colds). Vivian's throat whined a strangled groan of disappointment to her failed quest before a scream of fury passed through vocal chords as her hands shook the television in a bout of frustration.

"Why must you ruin me?!"

Babble spouted from her mouth as she rattled every object connected to her game system and felt something sharp smack her from behind her head. On alert, she turned around to suspect one of her sisters had come in silently to partake in a prank but she only saw the standee falling towards her. A shout of alert escaped her mouth in surprise to why the hell it was there and her foot caught in the cables scattered around the floor. The sharp tug on her foot and the standee pressing down on her caused the poor woman to lose her balance and Vivian could only yell out a curse as the floor rose up to meet her. Her head smacked onto the side of the table propping up the television as her hands shoved it back to break her fall- horribly failing- while her left foot stepped on the system and slipped at an awkward angle onto the wooden floor.

She didn't know what hurt worse: the fact she'd have a fractured skull when she awoke, being frightened like a five year-old by inanimate cardboard, spazzing out like a hotheaded preteen, or the fact that she'd forgotten to renew her warranties on both the game system and the television.

Damn that sexy cardboard cut out.

A/N: I don't plan on retelling what everyone's played on their consoles of the AC games and decided to give Altaïr a whole new adventure by having him explore the world in search for the pieces of Eden and ass kicking Templars along the way with Malik, the sidekick (because he needs more attention than just being a side character and being cooped up in the Bureau). For some reason, the Indiana Jones theme song pops into my head with this adventure except Altaïr trades the fedora and whip for his traditional hood and hidden knife. And no, the OC will not fall madly in love with him (despite his smexiness) or vice versa. . .well, yet, anyway. . .because we need Maria to create future Desmond so that will be worked in later. The story will be slightly AU anyway. Unless you readers are anti-Maria then I don't know. For all that map making stuff, I've been researching the civilizations from back then and the Arab Empire under the Almohad Dynaty and Fatimids since the 13th century would have that takeover shift of power. I'm not a historian, it's not my forte, so I'm giving all I can since I'm very strict on research whenever I write a story. Thank goodness for the AC wiki as well.

Thanks for reading and leave your comment to know whether or not to continue this little story (it's not short, actually, according to my calculations). Next up will have Vivian believing 12th century Jerusalem is a coma induced figment and creates chaos in the streets as Altaïr tries to prove it's real.