"Damnit!"
I cursed under my breath, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I dodged yet another horde of guards chasing after me. The rooftops of Florence stretched before me, a vast playground of stone and opportunity—if only my stamina bar weren't draining faster than my will to live.
All I did was leave a single comment on a gaming forum. One tiny, innocent comment.
"Ezio is overrated. Altair and Edward were way better assassins."
And just like that, the entire Assassin's Creed fanbase descended upon me like a swarm of angry bees. The responses were brutal.
Death threats? Check.
Insults about my intelligence? Check.
A particularly creative insult involving my mother, a haystack, and the phrase "you deserve a leap of faith off a cliff"? Double check.
But come on, was I really that wrong? Ezio was cool, sure. Charismatic? No doubt. But he had way too much plot armour. Meanwhile, Altair was a legend, and Edward was a goddamn pirate assassin—how was that not the coolest thing ever?
Still, none of that mattered right now because I had one goal: survive this godforsaken chase. My fingers moved on instinct, guiding Ezio through Florence's rooftops, weaving between chimneys, leaping across alleys, and desperately avoiding the guards hot on my tail.
"Come on, come on… just a little further."
I was almost at a hiding spot—a well-placed haystack that would let me break my line of sight and disappear. But just as I made the final leap—
BZZZT!
The screen flickered. My heart skipped a beat.
"NO! NO, YOU PIECE OF—"
The dreaded blue screen of death appeared. My PC, my lifeline, my faithful companion in the digital world, had just betrayed me in the worst moment possible.
And then—everything went black.
...
I gasped, but no sound came out.
The world around me was a swirling void, neither dark nor light. My body—or what remained of it—felt weightless, drifting in an ocean of nothingness.
Was I… dead?
No, this wasn't right. I didn't remember any truck hitting me. No cliché death by lightning. No vengeful fan breaking into my room for my "blasphemy" against Ezio Auditore.
Yet here I was, suspended in emptiness.
And then—
Ding!
A soft chime echoed in the void, followed by a mechanical yet oddly soothing voice.
[Choose one, Congratulations, you are dead~]
My face crunched just instinctively. "The hell kind of greeting is that?"
[You have been selected for Reincarnation! 🎉]
[Reason: Exceptional... Criticism Skills]
Oh, great. So I died because I dissed Ezio on the internet, and now some cosmic gacha system decided I was worth reincarnating? What was this, karma with a sense of humour?
[Congratulations, lucky soul! You've been chosen for the "Assassin's Legacy Integration Program™!"]
[Destination: Renaissance Italy, 1475 – Florence]
[Role: Ezio Auditore's Younger Brother (Dante Auditore)]
[Identity Sync... 7%... 32%... 69%... Nice.]
[Complete!]
"Wait, wait, wait. Hold up! I didn't agree to anything!"
[Too late. No refunds.]
[Loading Talent Template... → Altair Ibn-La'Ahad]
[Difficulty Modifier: Hardcore (Because of your trash talk.)]
"OH, COME ON—"
I didn't get to finish the sentence.
The void shattered.
Suddenly, air filled my lungs like I was surfacing from the bottom of the ocean. My eyes snapped open—and what I saw wasn't my darkened room or the cursed blue screen. It was a wooden ceiling, painted by time and candle smoke.
I blinked.
I blinked again.
My vision wobbled as consciousness settled into me like water pouring into an empty cup.
Warm air. The faint scent of old wood, linen, and… was that incense? Voices—muffled, distant—echoed somewhere beyond the room.
This… this wasn't my room. This wasn't even my century.
I slowly pushed myself upright, the unfamiliar weight of a much smaller body dragging against gravity. My hands—tiny, uncalloused, soft—came into view.
A child's hands.
My heart somersaulted.
"…No way."
Before I could process anything, the door burst open.
A whirlwind of brown curls and boundless energy sprinted toward me.
"Dante!"
The boy lunged forward and wrapped his arms around me so tightly I nearly choked. Warm. Real. Alive.
My brain needed a full three seconds before the name clicked.
Dante Auditore.Younger brother.Reincarnated.
And the person hugging me—Those unmistakable features—That determined, mischievous face—
"…Ezio?"
He pulled back, hands still on my shoulders, worry written all over his face.
"Are you alright? You fainted again." He leaned forward, inspecting me with big brother intensity. "You didn't hit your head, did you?"
I stared at him like he was the second coming of Jesus.
Ezio Auditore da Firenze.
In the flesh.
Not polygons.
Not a cutscene.
Real.
"Uh… I—I'm fine," I stammered.
He tilted his head. "Are you sure? You look… strange. Stranger than usual, I mean."
"…Thanks?" I croaked.
Before he could grill me further, another voice drifted in from the hallway.
"Ezio! Dante! Dinner is ready!"
That voice—gentle, warm, unmistakably maternal.
Maria Auditore.
My nonexistent soul nearly left my body for a second time.
Ezio hopped to his feet and offered me a hand. "Come on. If we're late again, Father will lecture us about 'punctuality reflecting character'."
Father.
Giovanni Auditore.
Holy. Actual. Hell.
I reached for Ezio's hand, and in that brief moment, memories—or rather, identity sync echoes—fluttered through my mind like scattered pages of a book I'd never read but somehow owned.
Dante Auditore.
Age: 8.
Personality: Mischievous. Curious.
Health: Frail, prone to fainting.
Family: The Auditores.
My new family.
Ezio tugged at me. "Dante, come on!"
"Y-Yeah! Coming!"
As he dragged me toward the door, my legs nearly tripped over themselves. I had to relearn how to walk in this small body.
Ezio didn't seem to mind my shaky steps. In fact, he slowed down just enough to pretend he wasn't slowing down. Classic big-brother move—casual, subtle, and absolutely obvious.
The hallway outside was warm, lit by candles mounted in iron sconces. Shadows danced across the stone walls as the scent of freshly baked bread drifted through the villa. My new senses were… overwhelmingColoursrs felt softer, sounds closer, and the air itself seemed heavier, more real than anything I'd ever experienced.
Ezio glanced back. "You're walking weird."
"I'm eight," I muttered. "I'm supposed to walk weird."
He snorted. "Fair enough."
We reached the dining room, where the atmosphere was alive with warmth and chatter. Federico was already there—leaning back in his chair like he owned the place, boots propped irresponsibly on the table.
Maria noticed.
"Federico," she said without looking up from the bread she was slicing, "if you don't take your feet off that table, I will personally remove them."
He dropped them instantly.
"Of course, Mother. Just, uh… relaxing my posture."
Ezio leaned toward me and whispered, "She means it. Last week, she threw Father's boots out the window."
"Ezio," Maria said sharply.
Ezio straightened. "Nothing! Just telling Dante the… weather."
Great. First day in this world, and I was witnessing Maria Auditore's legendary snap reflexes in person.
Then—A chair scraped softly.
Giovanni Auditore rose from his seat at the head of the table.
Not a game model.
Not an NPC.
A living, breathing man with a presence that filled the room without effort.
His eyes locked onto me, sharp and assessing—not unkind, but observant. Too observant.
"Dante," he said, voice calm but edged with worry, "I was informed you fainted again."
I swallowed. "Just tired, Father."
Ezio nodded vigorously beside me. "He's fine. I checked."
Giovanni raised a brow at him. "You checked by staring at him and asking if he was alive."
Ezio pursed his lips. "It was… thorough staring."
Federico muttered, "A medical miracle."
Maria shot him a look.
Giovanni sighed lightly, then knelt to my level. Suddenly, the room felt quieter.
"Your health has always been fragile," he said gently. "Do not hide it from us. Not your mother. Not me. And certainly not your brothers."
My throat tightened.
Because this wasn't just a video game character. This was a father.
My father.
Even if borrowed.
"I won't hide it," I managed.
Giovanni's expression softened. "Good."
He placed a warm hand on my head before returning to his seat.
Ezio grinned and pulled me into the chair beside him. "See? You're fine. And dinner's great tonight."
Maria chimed in, "That depends on whether your brother keeps his food down."
***
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