Masyaf, 1257

The library was the quietest room Altair had ever been in, and he'd spent his life nestled away in desks and studies. But here, so cut off from reality, so far underground, so far behind walls more solid than steel…He learned his final lesson.

It was only here that the true meaning of the words 'Nothing is True, Everything is Permitted' really rang within his mind; in this tiny room that would become his grave.

Altair gazed upon the Apple one last time. His hands, always trembling with age, were oddly calm as he lifted his fingers to stroke the globe's smooth surface. He felt the pulse beneath the metal, calling out to him as it always had.

But this time, he wouldn't let it win.

And yet, a bright light began to engulf him when he ended the touch. The library melted away, and the old man found himself drifting through space.

I am dead, he thought.

It was the logical conclusion.

-0-0-0-0-0-

Altair had never expected to reopen his eyes. The feeling had been most surreal: one moment, he had been floating through that warm snow-blind. The next, his chest lay pressed against something hard and cold, and coughs wracked his body.

Slowly, the Grand-Assassin blinked. His fingers twitched and felt the ground beneath him; it was strangely smooth, almost like iron…

Breathing hoarsely, Altair climbed to his feet. To his amazement, his limbs felt light and strong. A quick glance revealed to the Assassin that he was very clearly no longer ninety-one years old. His legs upheld him proudly, and his arms were not so thin with age. Long gone were the wrinkles on his hands, and his fingers held their natural tone.

It was as though he had been teleported back to the body he had not possessed in sixty-six years. But the Mentor knew that somehow he had retained his sage mind…

Pleasantly surprised by his appearance, Altair decided to examine his surroundings further. Both the floor and walls of the small room were wrought from some form of metal, but appeared almost crystalline in their construction. Rough stalagmite-like ridges of metal protruded from the ground in some areas, and in others the walls dissolved and led into dark space…

It was a dream if ever the Assassin had known one.

With little else to do, Altair began to wander. He did not like how loudly his footsteps echoed in the haunting halls, or how the white reflection of his robes followed him.

But he became most alarmed when another pair of footsteps sounded beside his own.

The deformed rooms were too dimly lit to tell, but Altair was certain the stranger meant him harm. Altair dropped into a crouch and used his sixth-sense to determine the location of his stalker.

His hooded assailant was somewhere ahead him- a confusing detail. In fact, the man seemed almost not to notice Altair at all. He walked about distractedly, staring up at the ceiling, or lack thereof, of their dreamlike prison. But Altair was not one to argue with an easy target.

The Master Assassin waited until his objective came closer, a smirk spreading across his lips at the readiness with which he commanded his muscles. Just when the stranger halted, Altair pounced.

He grabbed the man around his midsection, leaping forth like an eagle in mid-dive and throwing them both to the ground. While his target cried out in shock, Altair secured his weight atop him and drew his hidden blade, preparing to set it on the male's jugular.

"Stop!" The prey protested, "You do not understand what you're doing!"

Altair understood perfectly well: this man meant to impair him. He would not be given the chance.

"Brother, stop."

A click echoed through the air- the click of a hidden blade. But Altair's were already drawn. The Master looked about in confusion, and then noticed his target held two of the blades, locked to both arms, and both were poised to enter Altair's ribcage.

"You…An Assassin?"

The man nodded firmly, then squinted his eyes, giving Altair an odd look, "And you seem very familiar, sir…"

Altair quickly untangled himself from his fellow Assassin and helped him climb to his feet. Once the air of danger had been scoured, Altair noticed the stranger was about the same age his appearance made him to be- mid twenties, oldest.

He wore a hood, similar to Altair's, and the symbol of the Creed was tightly exposed at his hips. But rather than robes and belts, as Altair wore, this man followed a different fashion: an open-collared tunic, which displayed the bands of leather that fell against his chest; long, bilious sleeves as opposed to the Grand Master's tight fitting ones.

The strange Assassin frowned as Altair scrutinized him, "I believe I have seen you before, sir. Are you Altair ibn La Ahad, by any chance?"

Altair's jaw set, and he stopped his examination immediately to give his visitor a harsh glare. He'd half a mind to brandish his hidden blades once more.

"Magnificent…" The newcomer breathed at his reaction.

"How do you know me?" Altair demanded.

"From my dreams, sir." Was the only answer he received.

It was not enough, "Who are you?"

The man inclined his head and shoulders, "My name is Ezio Auditore da Firenze, mentor. It is an honor to meet you."

"And are you the one who brought me here?" Altair continued, still uneasy despite the evident respect Ezio had for him.

Ezio shook his head, "Unfortunately no. I was in my study in Constantinople, reviewing the memories hidden in those ancient artifacts when…" The young man paused, lost for words.

"Was there a…bright light?" Altair offered.

"Yes," Ezio confirmed, "Unlike anything I'd ever seen. And then I woke up in this place- yet I do not feel like myself."

Altair considered before asking, "Perhaps you feel…younger?"

The Assassin's brow furrowed, "I suppose that is a way of putting it. Why would you say that?"

"I myself am ninety-one years old," Altair explained, "Yet clearly I have the strength and stamina of a young man."

"Ninety-one?" Ezio repeated in awe, brown eyes wide. "It must be so then. You appear no older than twenty-five. And I?"

"The same," Altair agreed.

"Very curious," Ezio murmured, walking past Altair and further into the puzzling backdrop, "This place is most unnatural."

"Then let us find our way out." Altair said gruffly before turning and striding away.

Ezio silently concurred, and the two elderly (yet not so) Assassins explored the disturbing landscape together. The strange, metallic hallways became narrower, until the two men were almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Finally, they arrived at a large square room- but there were no lights or landmarks to identify it.

However, a voice shouted out to them.

"Is someone there?"

Both Assassins tensed, and four little blades pierced the air with a click far too loud.

"Hello? I-I'm not armed, just a little lost. Looking for some help, that's all."

Altair used his sixth sense once more to find their target wandering within the dark room's walls. Fear and confusion were evident both in his expression and his voice, but this time Altair searched for something further. The man carried a hidden blade- only one, but undeniably.

"Stop," Altair commanded his companion, "He is one of us."

"Hello?" Ezio nodded, sheathing his hidden blades.

"You," The elder Assassin shouted into the blackness, "declare yourself, Assassin!"

The voice seemed hesitant, but replied, "My name is Desmond Miles. I'm not an assassin- just a guy trying to find his way out of a mess."

Altair and Ezio approached the one named 'Miles', using their Sight to guide them. Once close enough, Altair spoke quietly:

"Desmond Miles," He said, though the name felt odd on his tongue, "Do you know the way out of this iron labyrinth?"

"No," Desmond sighed, "I'm sorry. I don't even know what this place is. One second I was in the Sanctuary, sitting by the statue- next I was floating…"

"Yes," Ezio answered, "We have all been brought here through similar circumstances."

Without warning, the room lit up. The men let out shouts of pain and alarm, covering their eyes with their arms. White light poured from the ceiling, and a child's voice announced to them:

"Finally, you've come."

With red eyes, the three Assassins turned to face the newcomer, who stepped down from the ceiling.

The male seemed to drift down like a leaf from a tree, full of grace. Each studied his features as he dropped to the floor and dusted himself: his skin was fair, bordering on olive. His hair was dark and hopelessly tangled in a beautiful way. He wore a long tunic that left one of his pale shoulders bare; the chiton's fabric was white, and he wore a belt and sandals below it.

With his guests speechless, the Greek boy continued:

"I've been waiting for the opportunity to summon all of you at once. But now that you are here, there will be no more waiting."

-0-0-0-0-

"What sorcery is this?" Altair demanded, "Who are you!"

"Calm, my friends," The boy said in a soft, almost ethereal voice, "Your people once called me 'Erebus'. Now, I have no name."

"'Our people'?" Desmond mimicked, frowning.

"Erebus," Ezio's eyes lit up, "You are the god of the Greeks."

"You are right," Erebus answered Ezio, "And you are also wrong."

"Explain." Altair commanded.

Erebus stepped back, fading into nothingness. But before the Assassins could react, the room went dark.

"Sit," The god's soothing voice encouraged them. They all did so. Suddenly, the room became a screen. First, a cityscape appeared upon it- tall buildings with people going about their business below.

"Once, We lived in great settlements. Wonderful places,where all lived happily and in peace."

The Assassins watched as the cityscape caught fire, and soon the entire room filled with smoke.

"It did not last."

But even when only ashes remained, humans were seen pulling themselves from the rubble. People dusted themselves off, many wept and others collapsed.

"We were shaking, but We were alive. Only just."

The scene changed. A village appeared on grassy hills against a blue sky dotted with clouds. Children played in the dirt wearing large, baggy tunics and sandals. A mother watched from afar, a basket of eggs in her arms. Peeking from around the hilltop, a large columned building watched over the settlement.

"We watched you grow."

Panning revealed a cave in the distance. Gasses and clouds swirled around its interior, but soon the form of a beautiful woman emerged.

"Some of us wanted to do more than watch."

Behind the woman, a child with dark hair and fair skin appeared. He pulled on her arm, speaking into her ear. She frowned at him and retreated back to the mist.

"They called Her Hera, goddess of mothering and care. Yet She was the one who forbade me from interacting with your kind."

It was night- Hera, the stunning lady, was seen with a group of village men, speaking earnestly with them.

"When I became zealous, She spread rumors about me. I only wanted to give, to share with man- Our fellow survivors. But She told them I only wanted to take, that I was a selfish god. A god of mischief and evil."

The scene changed yet again. The boy wrapped himself in a large cloak and hood, then dashed from the cave. In his arms, a golden ball sat shimmering in the moonlight.

He ran inhumanly fast, crossing a distance of many miles. But just as quickly as his journey began, the boy was caught. The woman appeared before him, a look of disgust upon her face. She snatched the golden apple from his grip and slapped him across the face.

"This was the unspeakable. That I would steal from my Own, to give to the lesser. I fought Her, but She defeated me. And for my treason, I was exiled."

The rolling hills faded, and were replaced with stars and planets. The sun, bright and furious, spun in the distance.

"I was no longer welcome amongst you, and amongst my Family. They banished me to another world, far off. It would be thousands of years before I would return."

"But return I did."

The lights dimmed, and soon the room returned to its normal level of brightness. The Assassins climbed to their feet and turned to find Erebus sitting behind them.

"But I returned to find all that I'd known lost, and man had long since forgotten me."

Erebus paused.

"However, I did find a message, from Athena. She told me that this world was not yet gone; hope lived on in the spirits of three humans, through which the world could be saved.

I tracked those humans down to find you three. But I do not believe that the entire planet can be changed by the will of a small group of men, especially those whose lives are scattered across centuries."

"Then why have you brought us here?" Altair asked quietly.

Erebus answered, "It is simple. I wish to conduct a test. If you all pass, I will be satisfied with Athena's judgment. Fail, and you shall be disposed of. I will be forced to succeed where my race has faltered, and somehow save Our world."

"This is some whacked-up dream…" Desmond murmured to himself.

"When you are ready, we shall commence."

"We are as ready as we will ever become, sir." Ezio remarked drily, folding his arms.

"So be it."