Summary: She didn't know why she was chosen, or if she was at all. She only knew she'd been pulled through time to help a family involved in a war she'd never thought to exist, and that it was her only way back home. Most of all, though, she certainly didn't expect the young man with whom her fate became inexplicably entwined. Ezio/OC

Assassin's Creed: Chronos

-T. -

Prologue

July 5, 2010

Glasgow, Scotland

"Huh."

It wasn't, perhaps, the most appropriate thing to say in light of having a brick wall move aside to reveal a hidden entrance that only opened after finding a secret book switch, but Catherine wasn't particularly worried about that right now. Rather, she was more concerned with the fact that she had found it in a room deep within the confines of her ancestral family's castle. She hadn't really thought much of her father's side of the bloodline; she just assumed they were the usual Scottish kind of people who lived in a bit of nobility, but this was something different. Maybe. Castles generally had secret rooms and entrances, right? It would make sense. Kinda.

So.

There was most likely nothing creepy down there. No torture chambers or dungeons—the family hadn't been kings or queens or rulers or anything—or evil monsters and curses. That would be silly, and pretty fun. Not that she would say it out loud. She also wouldn't say that she was definitely going to go down there and find out what the place was hiding. Definitely not.

Catherine glanced to the wooden door of the room, contemplating whether or not she should get her Mom and the other family here. They would probably find it cool, too, but they were bound to be on the other side of the castle by now and she didn't feel like having to look for them. She'd just show them later. For now, she pulled out of her phone, put on the flashlight app, and looked in to find stone stairs going down. There looked to be stands on the walls for torches, but even if they were fitted with wood or the like, she didn't have a lighter to get them going. Thus, she was quite glad for her phone as she made her way carefully, keeping one hand on the wall.

The stairs curved downward in a spiral, and how far they went she couldn't say. It wasn't terribly long, though, and she found a pristine, wooden door at the end. There was hardly any dust or cobwebs, and she suspected the room was either rarely used or sealed incredibly well. It was probably both. She hoped the door was less so, and grasped its gold-tinted metal handle. It didn't budge at first, but with more effort—a grunt here and there as her knuckles turned white from squeezing—she heard the metal hinges creak and groan. The wood scrapped against the ground slightly, but gave way regardless, revealing a much larger, rectangular room.

"Oh, wow," she breathed, eyes wide as she stepped in and looked around.

Like the rest of the castle, it was made of stones that looked a dark gray when she shined her light on them. Torch bearers lined the walls, three on each side, and two on both short ones. Six beams held the room, and along the walls were tall racks that looked long-since abandoned. She thought maybe something might have gone there—weapons perhaps—but not for many years, if at all. There were two small steps that went up to the outer part of the room beyond the beams, just a few inches higher than where she was at. Red carpet ran along the surface, and as she ventured further in, she found the same carpet beneath her feet, somewhat tattered, running along the center. At the very back—a mantle. It was, well, spectacular. She'd never seen something made of what was either metal or marble and so ornate, nor did she recognize the design. It reminded her of a spear head or an arrow with the center carved out, although some of it had been cracked or broken away. Two lion-like creatures appeared to be on either side, and she could swear they were the same ones on her family's crest. Then, following its leaves, intricate lines, and the lions' tails downward, she found the one thing left remaining in the entire room: a chest.

It wasn't all that big; maybe a few feet long, two wide, and barely reached her knees. It was a simple thing besides the metal-plated edges she guessed were gold, but looked a little faded and worn, as if it had not been here the whole time. It was not locked, either. In fact, it opened with surprising ease, although for good reason; there was practically nothing left in it. She found a few papers written in what looked an Arabic or some old English language, but it was all nonsense to her. She did find one in more modern English and a large bundle of old parchment tied together with string to go with it, but the open one was hard to read and the knot fairly tight, so she set it aside in favor of the last remaining item. It was a small pouch made of some kind of material. It looked like red velvet, but she didn't think that was quite right. It carried something with weight, too, and after opening it up she found it was a pocket watch, or something like it.

"And just what are you…?" she mused aloud as she admired the device. It was the oddest watch or clock or whatever it was that she'd ever seen. It was half-spherical, curved on the front, and flat on the back. On the surface were twelve notches all in the right place like her mother's watch had, minus the numbers. In the center was only one hand, though, which didn't really make for a good clock and it was emplaced in a grooved circle with thin, short lines coming from it, which touched even more grooved circles. She turned it around to inspect the indentions she'd felt on the back, and found them similar to those on the front, although this time there were odd symbols joining them. She'd never seen anything remotely similar, and wondered who on Earth could have crafted such a thing? She could swear it was made of gold, but it didn't feel right. It did have a golden color, though, so what could it be?

She turned it back around as she thought, rubbing her thumb along where the hand was until a sharp pain shot through her digit. She dropped it with a yelp, hissing as she looked at the new cut on her thumb, leaking a small trickle of blood. She scowled and glared daggers at the clock, picking it back up to find the blood left on it had dribbled into the grooves. She could swear she saw the blood moving weird, but it had to have been a trick of the light. This thing was a jerk, though, that was for sure.

"Well, at least it's still cool. I guess it's worth bringing back. Technically belongs to me in a way. Sort of," she hummed as she turned to go. As soon as her foot touched down, though, a searing heat went through her hand, causing her to drop her phone, yet the Clock remained as if was a part of her, and the world burst.

She tried to scream, but there was no sound. Her body felt like it was on fire, and the very breathe was stolen from her lungs. All thoughts vanished, her mind was mindless; her form was formless. She was empty. Nothing.

Darkness.

It engulfed her now. What was she, anyways? Catherine? A person? A human? A body? An organ? A cell? An atom? Darkness? Nothingness? She didn't know anymore. How could she know? There was nothing; nothing but the searing pain.

Then—light.

It came as an explosion that blinded and deafened her. The heat that came from it was real, her right hand burning as the clock remained stuck to her, glowing so bright it was almost like a star. Yet, she was able to look right at it and somehow see the clock's hand spinning to where it was impossible to tell where it was. All the grooves glowed, and she knew it was where everything had come from. Whatever this—this thing was, it had brought her to this place. This…

'My God,' she gaped as she took in the infinite cluster of stars before her. They seemed to thrust out from her, moving at millions of miles per second. She watched as atoms smashed together and formed dust, which crashed with dust to form lights, which crashed with lights to form explosion after explosion that formed more atoms and dusts and stars. It was brilliant, and she could find no words as the stars collided together and formed spirals and loops and ovals. Galaxies, she realized. Hundreds and thousands and millions and billions of galaxies full of even more billions of stars. There were so many, and they all surrounded her in this darkness that she somehow stood upon, as if it were flat ground. She did not know how it was all happening, only that it was, and she knew she was seeing the birth of the Universe.

She gasped as some forced nearly brought her to her knees, pulling her in some direction, and yet she'd never truly moved. She looked to the clock in her hands, the device burning hotter with every second. She could only wonder how her hand had not completely melted, but there was no time to question it as the force pulled her to a galaxy she recognized, a spiral with two arms spinning as fast as her clock. She saw stars within it come to life and die and be reborn as she moved within it, heading towards some destination in particular. A star. A large one. It was pulsing, it seemed, growing larger and larger and brighter and brighter until it suddenly exploded. She wanted to flinch, but could not as the dust slammed into her, and yet she did not feel it. It passed through her and then began to converge again, creating a new star, a smaller one. All around it dust spun and came together, forming small masses. Like in the beginning, the masses converged into larger ones, and those larger ones combined with smaller and larger ones to become even bigger and bigger until she knew they were planets. She knew them. She recognized them. The nine planets. Four terrestrial. Four gas. The ninth a dwarf. Two rings of asteroids, unable to become planets themselves. Comets and meteors moved through the space, some hitting the planets and others being sent far out again only to return after ages had gone by.

There was no true way to describe what she saw, but she felt moved almost to tears at the sight of it all. To have seen such amazing things—things that humans could only dream had happened! It was a tragedy she could not cry, though. She had a body, but it was not all there. She did not feel fully complete, and she knew the device was not done with her. Again, she was pulled forward and brought to the planet she knew better than all the rest, for it was her home. Her Earth. It was not the home she knew, though. The ground was archaic and savage; the rocks devoid of life and the waters not yet full. Lava spewed forth and chemicals lit the skies in colors as they fought their way to freedom. Reactions upon reactions happened as the rains filled the oceans and the rocks retained their shape, which would only slowly change over the long course of time. She was watching the Earth being forged.

"You have come," a voice called, and it was not her own. It was not her uncle or cousin, but a stranger. A man. His voice echoed, reverberating throughout her body as if she were the voice, too. She was not, though, and when she turned to look she found a man, tall and foreboding with a long, full beard, yet enthralling and made of light. His form was ethereal; there was an emptiness to him, and he looked like no human she could recognize. His features were too perfect, too serene; his garbs to glorious, too mighty; his eyes too far-seeing, too knowing. He was a god. That, she was certain of.

"Ah… but you are not right—too distant. The blood too faint," he went on, looking at her—but was there anything left to see? She couldn't recall anymore. The man lifted his arm, and she felt the clock in her hand pulse. Fire began to fill her and, at last, she saw her form. It was made of tendrils of light that moved upwards. They formed bone and muscle and skin and then an arm with clothes she knew. It worked its way to her head, and she knew how to breathe and think again. It moved to her chest, which had a heart that could beat once more. It moved to her legs, which could quiver and truly feel the ground beneath her feet, which had turned to white. Her eyes remembered how to really see, and before she knew it there were images and glyphs and rings of light all around her. She was whole once more. She was Catherine.

"W-what is this?" she gasped, spinning to see all around. Beyond the glyphs she saw the Earth had settled and green was forming on the surface. The ocean was full, and she could see lights within moving—lifeforms. She didn't know how she knew, but she did.

"You must be altered; become more as We are. It will be painful."

Catherine turned to the man, heart racing, "What is going on!?"

"You were not what We sought—not completely, but you are what must be. The balance has shifted; things have been set awry. The Mark of Cain grows too dangerous. They have what they should not. You, Catherine Wolfe, must go forth and stop what has been altered. You must prevent Cain's blood from bringing about the end of our legacy. You must seek the Brotherhood and aid him. Only you may do this—you who bear the Clock," the man continued, not heeding the other's cries. The man raised his arm once more, and Catherine screamed in agony. She was on fire again, the light of her body constricting and squeezing until she recognized it as proper flesh and clothing. Images flashed through her mind—faces, names, symbols, things she did not know or understand. She could hardly bear to stand, and yet she stood, some force supporting her.

"Stop—please!"

"We cannot. You may only move forward. Prevent the end of your future and you will be returned… ah, but even now your mind is still not able… You are not ready. Too distant still. We must give you more time, but there is so little... Ah, but perhaps it is enough. Yes, We can accept this. Go, Catherine. The Clock will protect you and guide you. Seek it for your knowledge—your path. Find the Brotherhood. Stop the Mark of Cain. This is what you must do," the man finished, and then he vanished. Catherine wailed with despair, calling for the man to come back and stop this, but it was no use. He was gone, and with him the symbols and glyphs.

She was alone before the world again, and she watched as life emerged from the ocean; watched the creatures flourish and grow and become great and grand, but then, from the skies—a stream of light. She watched as a civilization emerged—creatures of beauty and light and amazing things. She didn't understand. They shouldn't have been, and yet there they grew with great cities and kingdoms and creations. She watched them forge their tools and a new race—one she recognized as her own, working as laborers, and a second; a cousin from long ago, made for battle. She saw them all work and grow together, forming their great empire. She saw them love and hate and breed and war. She saw the death and chaos, and she saw them try to save themselves, but it was too late. The Earth was devoured by fire and nearly torn asunder. Yet, the creators and their workers survived, but only one was able to thrive despite it all. The former whittled and died, leaving themselves as gods, while the humans continued on, forging their cities and empires and the world she knew, just as their predecessors had.

Time moved faster now, the ancient past going by in an instant. Information flooded her, filling her mind with images and thoughts and sounds and so much that she felt she might burst once more and be nothingness again. The Clock was forever too hot, and it continued to grow hotter. She feared that, despite what the man had said, she would perish. There seemed no end even as the images tore through to the European continent; rushed through the many cities and people towards buildings of white walls and red roofs and stone. It threw her through the crowds and structures to come to one in particular; a palace of grandeur and a man before it and then—a mark. A carved out spear or arrow of white that shone as bright as the sun. It was too much and she screamed again.

And then there was nothing.

Prologue – End