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Desmond knew how to do this. He'd run the course so many times. He'd learned to keep his steps light, to match his shadow to the ones on his wall. He hadn't made a single noise on the lead up to now, in the closed off room. One man sitting on a chair, his back to the wall. He knew he hadn't been seen, that he had been quiet enough to be unnoticed.
But the man on the chair had seen him.
There are guns pointed at Zavier.
There are guns pointed at Zavi-
Sean stumbles, and his feet scuff along the ground, defeaning in the silence.
Zavi throws a knife at both of them, one getting hit in the knee, the other the side.
"What!? Not good enough for you!?" He taunts.
"Get after him!" A figure shouts, and they charge after Zavi, Desmond forgotten.
"Sean!" Desmond's hand is tight in his. "Sean, we gotta- we gotta help-"
Can't think about it. Don't. He's fine. He's Za- he's-
"We gotta run, Des-"
DON'T THINK ABOUT IT- DON'T-
his chest hurts so much. he doesn't want to- he can't-
"We're going."
Sean tightens his grip on Desmond's hand and starts running.
And that's the last thing those two people will ever say, as the Mentor of the Assassin Order melts from the shadows, and kills them without blinking.
Sean doesn't let Desmond finish. He just drags him out into the shadows of the forest, pulling him when he stumbles.
When the sun rises, the Black Hills Farm is decimated.
Three black vans pull up on the outskirts of the village.
Out of one steps a man with hair starting to grey at his temples.
"Good haul?" The man questions, following as the armed figure leads the way to the centre.
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