In Cortana's universe, Ezio and Michael walked together through the ruins outside Piltover's Council Hall, the remnants of a past battle scattered across the landscape, they took the opportunity to get to know each other. The two Italians, each from vastly different worlds, shared a bond that transcended their realities.

Michael, looking around at the destroyed buildings, broke the silence. "You know, it's strange. This place—Piltover—it feels both familiar and foreign at the same time. Kind of like Florence, but more advanced. It's nothing like the Florence I grew up in."

Ezio, with his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings, nodded. "Florence... a city of beauty, art, and power. But also a city filled with danger, deceit, and death. I know it well. It was both my home and the stage for my enemies' plots." He turned to Michael with a curious smile. "Tell me, what is Florence like in your world?"

Michael shrugged, thinking about the modern Florence he came from. "In my world, it's more peaceful now. A beautiful city with tourists everywhere, churches still standing tall. But I've seen my share of darkness there too. Evil forces still exist, hidden beneath the surface." He touched the pendant hanging around his neck, feeling the comforting weight of it. "That's why I fight—to keep the balance."

Ezio glanced at Michael's pendant, intrigued. "That cross you wear... it holds power, does it not?"

Michael smiled, his fingers tracing the edges of the pendant. "Yeah, it does. But it's more than just a symbol of my faith. This pendant—it was given to my mother, Emily. She was a warrior too, wielding a mystical sword that could cut down demonic forces. She passed it down to me."

Ezio raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. "Your mother was a warrior?"

Michael nodded, pride mixing with a touch of sadness in his expression. "Yeah, she was. My father—well, he wasn't exactly human. He was a vampire. His name was Ricardo Torres, and he used to be a right-hand man to this powerful being, Alejandro Tanic. But he betrayed Tanic when he fell in love with my mother."

Ezio's eyes gleamed with interest. "So, you're half-vampire?"

Michael chuckled softly, though there was a seriousness in his voice. "Half-vampire, yeah. I inherited some of his abilities—enhanced speed, strength, and healing—but not everything. I'm not immortal, and I'm not bound by the need for blood like he was."

Ezio nodded thoughtfully, taking it all in. "Your life... it is full of contrasts, is it not? To be born of both light and shadow, with your mother a warrior and your father a creature of the night. And this pendant—what role does it play in all of this?"

Michael held the pendant up, letting the sunlight catch it once more. "This pendant isn't just some ornament. It's how I summon my weapons." He extended his hand, concentrating for a moment. The pendant began to radiate a soft, glowing light, and in an instant, a magnificent sword materialized in his grip, the blade humming with mystical energy. "Pretty neat, huh?"

Ezio stepped closer, examining the weapon with a keen eye. "Indeed. A weapon with such power, tied to both your heritage and your faith. It is a rare thing, to carry both into battle."

Michael nodded, letting the sword dissolve back into the pendant with a flicker of light. "Yeah, it is. My mother's fighting spirit lives on through me, and my father's legacy is... complicated. But I try to make sure that I use both for something good."

Ezio smiled knowingly. "It is a difficult path, walking between two worlds. But your purpose is clear, and your heart guides you. That is what truly matters."

Michael, feeling a renewed sense of purpose, smiled back. "Thanks, Ezio. I needed that."

Ezio's voice took on a more contemplative tone. "Tell me, Michael, do you truly believe in the faith that guides your power?"

Michael hesitated, a small frown forming. "I want to believe—really, I do. My parents raised me as a Christian, and I still hold onto that, but... with everything I've seen, sometimes it's hard. I question it a lot, you know?"

Ezio nodded thoughtfully, placing a reassuring hand on Michael's shoulder. "Faith is not a thing that comes easily, especially for men like us—men who have seen the worst that the world has to offer. I, too, have questioned many things in my life. But faith... it is a guide, not an answer. It does not remove doubt, but it gives us strength to carry on in the face of it."

Michael listened intently, grateful for the wisdom. He hadn't expected to find a kindred spirit in Ezio, but here he was, walking alongside one of the most renowned assassins in history, talking about faith and purpose. "Do you believe, Ezio?" Michael asked, curious about Eizio's stance on faith.

Ezio's face softens, and he considers the question for a moment. "I believe in the strength of the human spirit, in the power of choice. Whether one believes in God or the Creed, it is their actions that define them. But faith... it can be a powerful guide, even when the path is unclear."

Michael absorbed Ezio's words, feeling a sense of comfort in the older man's wisdom. "I guess you're right. It's a struggle, but maybe that's part of the whole deal."

Ezio nodded. "Indeed. The struggle is what makes us stronger. Never lose sight of what you fight for, Michael. Whether it be for your faith, your family, or your world, hold onto that."

As they walked, Michael glanced at Ezio, impressed by the assassin's calm demeanor and sharp mind. "You know, I heard a lot about you—how you're this legendary assassin. What's it like being part of something like that?"

Ezio chuckled softly. "Being an Assassin... it is both a burden and a gift. We live in the shadows, but we fight for freedom. It is not an easy path, and it requires sacrifice. But the rewards—the knowledge that you are making the world a better place—those are worth the hardship."

Michael nodded thoughtfully. "I can relate. Fighting evil, trying to protect people—it's tough, but when you see the difference it makes, it's all worth it."

They walked in companionable silence for a moment before Ezio asked, "Tell me more about your world, Michael. You say Florence is peaceful now—what else has changed?"

Michael smiled as he thought about his modern Florence. "Well, we've got cars, skyscrapers, technology that would blow your mind. Florence is still beautiful—lots of art, just like in your time. But the world has changed a lot. Wars are fought differently now, with guns, planes, even drones."

Ezio raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the description. "Technology... it is both a marvel and a danger, is it not?"

"Yeah," Michael agreed. "It can be. But it also helps us. That's how I got my powers—mix of old magic and modern tech."

Ezio looked at Michael with admiration. "You are young, but you carry great responsibility. Remember, the strength of an assassin—or a warrior—lies not only in his skill but in his heart and mind. Never let the power you wield consume you. Use it wisely."

Michael nodded, taking the advice to heart. "Thanks, Ezio. I'll remember that."

As they continued their walk, the bond between them grew stronger, a mix of mentorship and camaraderie. Despite the vast differences in their worlds and experiences, both men found common ground in their Italian heritage, their dedication to fighting for justice, and their shared struggles with faith and purpose.

The ruined room inside Piltover Academy felt heavy with the weight of their shared weariness. The once-grand hallways and laboratories, now reduced to rubble, spoke of a world teetering on the edge of collapse. Sunlight barely filtered through the shattered windows, casting jagged beams of light onto the debris-strewn floor.

Bangalore, her face etched with the strain of surviving for two relentless years in this broken reality, poured whiskey into three glasses. The amber liquid filled them quietly as she slid the glasses across the table to Mirage and Alex Mason (Variant). Both sat slumped with the exhaustion of soldiers and survivors, yet behind their eyes flickered the unyielding resolve to keep pushing forward.

Bangalore raised her glass, nodding to the other two. "Well," she said grimly but with a sense of camaraderie, "here's to two years of surviving the impossible."

Mirage, ever the joker despite their circumstances, grinned with just a hint of effort. He lifted his glass. "And to two years of not losing our minds... too much."

Alex Mason, seasoned by years of battle even before this world, smirked. Though his smirk was tempered by weariness, the soldier's resolve was undeniable. "To surviving," he said, swirling the whiskey in his glass, "and to whatever the hell comes next."

Their glasses clinked together in the silence, the sound louder than it should have been in the desolate room. Each of them took a moment of quiet reflection, thinking back on what they had endured to make it this far. The whiskey burned going down, but it was a welcome warmth in a world gone cold.

Mirage leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the cracked ceiling, his voice light despite the heaviness in his tone. "You ever wonder... what if we never get out of here? What if this is it? This... place?"

Bangalore set her glass down with a soft clink, looking around the dilapidated room, her mind turning the question over. She took a deep breath. "I think about it every day," she admitted, her tone serious but hopeful. "But I don't plan on staying here forever. There's always a way out... we just have to find it."

Alex nodded slowly, still swirling his drink. "You're right," he said, though his voice was distant. "But sometimes, the 'what ifs' creep in. What if we don't find a way back? What if we're stuck here, fighting the same battles over and over?"

Mirage, ever the optimist, tried to inject some levity into the conversation, though there was an undercurrent of worry in his voice. "If we're stuck here, at least I hope there's more whiskey. And maybe a way to fix up this place... I'm not cut out for this post-apocalyptic decor."

Bangalore snorted softly, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood, though their situation still hung heavily in the air. "Yeah," she said quietly, her determination shining through. "But let's make sure it doesn't come to that. We keep moving, keep fighting. We'll find a way out."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The room settled into a comfortable silence, each of them finding a momentary peace in their shared company. But the quiet was soon interrupted by the creak of the door opening. Ezio Auditore and Michael Torres entered, both looking as battle-worn as the rest.

Alex Mason, his deep voice now filled with warmth, stood up to greet them. "Ezio, Michael. Glad you could join us."

Mirage and Bangalore turned toward the newcomers, their weary faces brightening slightly at the sight of familiar allies. Mirage raised the bottle of whiskey with a grin. "Hey, you guys want a drink? Got just enough left for a round."

Bangalore nodded in agreement, pushing an extra glass toward the edge of the table. "Yeah, join us," she said casually, though there was a hint of camaraderie in her tone. "It's not much, but it's something."

Ezio, ever composed and dignified, gave a slight nod. A faint smile touched his lips as he stepped forward and accepted the offer. "Just a little, thank you."

Michael Torres took a seat beside Ezio, his eyes scanning the faces of his fellow survivors. The room was tinged with weariness, but the air was thick with mutual respect and determination. As Ezio and Michael settled in, there was a brief moment of peace, a respite from the chaos of their shattered world.

Bangalore, always the soldier and tactician, turned to Ezio with a direct question. Her voice was steady, focused. "So, what did the Arbiter say during the debriefing? What's the mission?"

Ezio set his glass down and looked around at the group. Though calm, there was an urgency in his eyes. "We're on a mission to find a device that could potentially enhance my vision—my eagle vision—so that I can communicate with other universes."

Bangalore narrowed her eyes slightly, intrigued but cautious. "And where exactly are we going to find this device?"

Ezio's expression darkened. "Arbiter mentioned a place—a Black Market. It's a vile place where they trade in weapons, items, devices... and even people."

Alex Mason, who had been quiet until now, suddenly tensed. His reaction was immediate, his military instincts flaring up. "Selling people?" he spat out, his voice sharp with anger. "Shit..."

Ezio nodded, sharing Mason's disgust. His voice was heavy with concern. "Yes. And there's more. It's possible that my family is there, being treated as property. If they are, we must rescue them. The same goes for Michael's mother. And, of course, we need to retrieve the device if it's also there."

Mirage, who had been trying to keep the mood light, now realized the gravity of the situation. His brow furrowed in surprise. "Wait, your family is here? I really should have stayed for that debrief."

Ezio's face hardened as he recalled the events that led them here, his voice filled with anger and determination. "Yes. Back in my world, Cortana threatened my family, demanding the Apple of Eden in exchange for their lives. She outnumbered me, used her allies to gain the upper hand, knowing I was alone. She destroyed my city, killed countless innocents, all in her pursuit of power."

The room fell into a tense silence as the weight of Ezio's words sank in. After a moment, he continued, a glimmer of hope breaking through the darkness of his story. "The good news is, the Apple she has is a fake. But it's only a matter of time before she realizes and seeks out the real one."

Michael Torres, who had been listening intently, stepped forward, his expression one of empathy and shared pain. His voice was steady but filled with emotion as he spoke.

"I know how you feel, Ezio," Michael said, his tone sincere and determined. "I felt helpless with my mother, too. Cortana raided our home, used her as leverage to threaten me, and then she put us both here. But we will save them—we'll save both our families."

Ezio met Michael's gaze, a bond of mutual understanding forming between them. The others in the room watched as the shared resolve filled the air, the determination palpable as they prepared to face the challenges ahead.

After reassuring Ezio, Michael watched as Ezio turned his attention to the others in the room—Bangalore, Mirage, and Alex Mason (Variant). Ezio's gaze was curious but respectful as he asked the question on his mind.

"And what about the rest of you?" Ezio asked calmly, genuine curiosity lacing his tone. "How did you end up here?"

Alex Mason took a deep breath, the memory of what happened still fresh in his mind. He was silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking, his voice heavy with experience.

"Me and Woods..." Alex began slowly, bitterness creeping into his voice. "We were on an operation in Nicaragua, hunting down one of Raul Menendez's remaining loyalists. Thought we were cleaning up the last of the mess after we took down Menendez a year prior."

He paused, gripping the glass in his hand tightly as he recalled the events. His voice grew more intense, the emotion rising to the surface.

"Then this... gate, or whatever the hell it was, came outta nowhere. Caught us off guard. Next thing I know, someone lunges at us like he knew exactly who we were. It was... different, though. Fought like some crazy monster."

Alex paused again, the memory clearly affecting him. His gaze hardened as he remembered what came next, and his voice took on a darker, more intense tone.

"He killed Woods," Alex said, his words cutting through the silence of the room. "Right in front of me. Didn't give him a chance. But he spared me... for some goddamn reason. Said he wanted to see me suffer, just like he did."

Leaning forward slightly, Alex's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his memory casting a dark shadow over him. His voice dropped, filled with disbelief and anger.

"At first, I didn't know who the hell he was. Then he said his name—Menendez," Alex continued grimly. "But he looked so different from the one in our world."

His jaw clenched, and the tension in his body increased as the memory stirred up more emotion. Alex's tone grew darker, tinged with a deep, simmering rage.

"He sure kind of reminded me of him, but I'll tell you what... that wasn't the same Menendez I knew. This one... he was twisted, more dangerous, like he'd been through a whole different kind of hell."

Taking a moment to steady himself, Alex finished his story with a grim sigh.

"And then Cortana was behind him, using whatever twisted abilities she has to drag me into this piece of shit world. The one she built. Left me here to rot, just like she did to Woods back in mine."

The room fell into a heavy silence as Mason finished speaking. The weight of his words hung in the air, the shared pain and understanding palpable among them. Ezio nodded slowly, recognizing the deep scars left by Mason's experience.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Mason," Ezio said sincerely, his tone soft but comforting. "But know this—Woods didn't die in vain. He fought a good fight against evil, and that is something worth remembering."

Standing beside Ezio, Michael nodded in agreement, his voice steady and carrying a hint of the wisdom he'd gained from his faith, even if he didn't fully embrace it.

"Evil never truly wins," Michael said firmly, his quiet conviction resonating through the room. "It might seem like it does sometimes, but in the end, the good remains victorious. That's something I've learned... something I try to hold on to."

Though still visibly affected by his memories, Alex looked at them both with a mix of gratitude and acceptance. He nodded slowly, appreciating their words, even if they couldn't completely ease his pain.

"Thanks..." Alex replied quietly, his voice tinged with sadness but genuine appreciation. "I appreciate that."

The room remained silent for a moment, the shared understanding of loss and the fight against darkness unspoken but deeply felt. Ezio then turned his attention to Bangalore, sensing that her story might shed more light on their situation.

Ezio's voice was curious but gentle as he spoke. "What about you, Bangalore? What's your story?"

Bangalore, ever the soldier, straightened slightly as she prepared to share her own experiences. Her voice was direct, though there was a trace of weariness that came with the weight of her memories.

"Mirage and I... we're from the same universe. We've been fighting together for a long time," Bangalore began, her tone steady but laced with a hint of melancholy.

Ezio, surprised by the revelation, raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident. "Just the two of you?" he asked, his voice tinged with genuine interest. "Here, in this world?"

Bangalore shook her head, her gaze dropping slightly as memories of the others surfaced.

"No, there are others out there. We had a team, a damn good one. We worked together, fought together... until we were separated," she said, her voice laced with solemnity and a touch of regret.

Ezio, sensing the weight of her words, gently pressed for more details, his tone compassionate and understanding.

"What happened?" Ezio asked, his voice soft, yet filled with concern.

A heavy silence fell over the room as Bangalore prepared to recount the harrowing tale of how she and Mirage ended up in this strange world. Her voice was steady, though pain and regret simmered beneath the surface.

"We were on a mission... just another day in the Outlands, or so we thought. Our team—Wraith, Octane, Bloodhound, Lifeline, Loba, Mirage, and me—had been tracking down some valuable intel on World's Edge. We were at the Mirage Voyage, the perfect spot to lay low and gather our thoughts after a tough fight."

The scene began to shift, transitioning into a flashback as Bangalore's words painted a vivid picture. The Mirage Voyage, a massive floating party ship, drifted above the icy peaks of World's Edge. The team gathered aboard, the camaraderie between them strong, though an underlying tension lingered in the air after a hard-fought battle.

Wraith stood near the edge, scanning the horizon with her typical wariness. "I don't like this... something feels off," she muttered, her eyes narrowing.

Lifeline, trying to lighten the mood but with a hint of concern, chimed in. "Relax, Wraith. We're safe for now. Just a quick rest, then we move."

Loba stood off to the side, her gaze distant as she scanned the surrounding mountains, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Mirage, ever the social one, noticed her pensive expression and approached her.

"Hey, Loba," he said, his tone cheerful but with genuine concern. "You okay? You're zoning out on us. Thinking about a certain skull-faced jerk?"

Loba's eyes narrowed slightly. "Always, Mirage. He's out there... and one day, I'm going to find him," she responded quietly, bitterness lacing her words.

But before any more words could be exchanged, the serenity of the moment was shattered by the screeching of Synths and the unmistakable clatter of Covenant forces—Grunts, Jackals, and the deep, resonant voices of Elites.

Bloodhound's voice rang out urgently. "We are not alone. Enemies have found us!"

The flashback exploded into chaos as the team sprang into action, the ship besieged by an overwhelming force. Leading the ambush, emerging from the shadows with glowing red eyes, was Revenant. His presence was like a dark omen as Synths and Covenant forces swarmed around the Mirage Voyage.

"Get inside! We need cover!" Octane shouted, sprinting to reinforce the group.

Blaster fire and energy weapons lit up the ship, with each team member fighting desperately to hold their ground. Revenant taunted Loba as he cornered her, his mechanical voice dripping with venom.

"Did you really think you could escape me, little girl? Your parents screamed just like you will," he hissed, his words cutting through the battle like a blade.

Loba fought back with everything she had, but the sheer numbers overwhelmed the team. Wraith, attempting to open a portal for escape, was struck by a plasma bolt, breaking her concentration.

"I... can't hold it..." Wraith gasped in pain, her focus wavering.

Octane, fueled by adrenaline, charged in to defend her, but even he was being pushed to his limits. Lifeline frantically healed the wounded, her drone working overtime, but the odds were against them. Energy bolts flew, and bodies clashed as the fight grew more desperate.

"Hold the line!" Octane shouted, his voice filled with desperation. "We can't let them take us!"

As Bangalore and Mirage fought side by side, their formation was suddenly disrupted by a wave of energy. Above them, Cortana's holographic form appeared—her presence cold, calculating, and filled with cruel amusement.

"You've fought well, but this ends here. Welcome to my world," Cortana's voice echoed through the chaos.

With a wave of her hand, she activated a device that created a massive rift, tearing the team apart. One by one, they were pulled into different parts of her twisted world. Bangalore and Mirage's screams echoed as they were torn away from the Mirage Voyage, separated from the others.

The flashback faded, bringing them back to the present moment inside the ruined room at Piltover Academy. Bangalore's voice cracked slightly as she finished recounting the harrowing events.

"We were separated... torn apart by that damn AI. Mirage and I ended up here, but the others... we don't know where they are. Or if they're even still alive," Bangalore said, her voice breaking slightly.

The room fell into a heavy silence as the weight of her story sank in. Ezio lowered his head in empathy, his tone soft and filled with regret.

"I'm sorry, Bangalore. No one should have to endure such loss... or the uncertainty of not knowing the fate of their comrades," he said gently.

Mirage, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the story, finally spoke up. His usual bravado was gone, replaced with a somber determination.

"We'll find them. We have to. We owe them that much," Mirage said quietly.

At that moment, Nora entered the room, the sound of her boots echoing against the floor. Behind her, the Variant of Master Chief followed, his presence commanding and authoritative.

"How are we holding up?" Nora asked, her tone authoritative but with a sense of urgency.

Master Chief (Variant) stepped forward, his voice deep and firm. "It's time to go. We need to move."

The group exchanged quick, determined looks. The realization that they were up against not just a rogue AI but a growing and formidable alliance strengthened their resolve. They knew that what lay ahead would be their most challenging fight yet.