Jack Is An Alien

"So, you're claiming to be an extraterrestrial visitor? Are you some kind of god?" Wesley, unable to contain his curiosity, bombarded Jack with questions. The notion of encountering an alien being was enough to ignite a spark of excitement in any man's heart.

Surrounded by a crowd of eager listeners, Jack took a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

"Well, yes, I am indeed an alien," he began, his voice carrying an air of mystery.

"But let's not get carried away with the notion of gods. As the loom mentioned, I have been entrusted with restoring order to the world. My purpose here is no different from yours or anyone else's."

Though slightly disappointed by the lack of divine revelation, Wesley couldn't help but remain fascinated. "But still, you're an alien! That's incredible!"

Jack smiled, appreciating Wesley's enthusiasm. "I understand your excitement, but let's not lose sight of the task. We have important work to do."

Meanwhile, Fox recognized Jack's significance and took charge of the situation. Stepping forward, she gently pulled Wesley aside. "Alright, let our friend here concentrate. We can talk more about it later."

As Fox led Wesley away, Jack noticed a change in her attitude. The familiar address had shifted to a more respectful tone, indicating the growing reverence for his role. Despite Jack's intentions, Fox had already decided to join the Templars.

"The word 'assassin' still lingers, but their existence is now nominal. They no longer deserve to be guided by fate."

With an uncanny understanding of the weight behind these words, Fox sensed that fate itself was fuming with anger over the assassin's actions. The unforgiving grip of destiny had forsaken the misguided killer while plotting to place Jack, a being from another realm and a valiant Templar, at the helm to restore order to the world.

This was fate's current decree, and Fox felt an undeniable pull to join the ranks of the Templars. The call for self-redemption and the guidance of destiny resonated deeply within Fox's soul.

On the other hand, Jack, though not entirely dismissive of the situation, found his attention consumed by the crucial information emanating from the loom's enigmatic words.

"A visitor from another world... is the loom aware of my extraterrestrial origins? Is the system truly mediocre? It appears caution must be exercised in the days to come." Jack pondered aloud.

"Everyone pursues their own desires... their longing for order, while I seek experience... Does the loom even comprehend this?" These thoughts perplexed Jack to no end.

How could the loom possess such intimate knowledge of his deepest desires? Could the system be excessively transparent, enabling others to effortlessly see through its veil?

Such a notion seemed incongruent with its intended purpose. Jack, while perplexed, remained vigilant. If this so-called fate possessed the power to subvert him, it would not waste time divulging its intentions. Instead, it would strike without warning.

After all, an artifact that had served assassins for countless years was likely more skilled in rhetoric than genuine combat ability. Jack mused momentarily, setting the query aside, uninterested in expending his mental capacity on speculative matters lacking sufficient information.

"Off to New York, to Governor Anderson," Jack declared with a determined glint in his eyes. "We had struck a deal before, and now it's time to set our plans in motion."

Turning his attention to Wick, he continued, "Wick, make your way to the Continental Hotel in New York. Contact Mr. Winston; I have matters to discuss with him."

Addressing Carlos and the others, Jack commanded, "As for you, it falls upon your shoulders to reveal this truth to the Assassins and rally them to our cause, the Templars."

"Now, let us begin!" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with conviction and purpose.

.....

Night fell, casting a soft darkness over Anderson's study as he sat with the door and windows open. The room was adorned with shelves filled with ancient books, and the faint glow of candlelight illuminated the space. He held a small cross in his hands, his heart filled with anticipation and excitement.

"The Brotherhood of Assassins is destroyed!" echoed Anderson's mind, the words ringing like a victorious anthem.

At noon, he had received the exhilarating news that their long-standing enemy had been vanquished. Now, Anderson eagerly awaited the arrival of Jack, fully aware that he would come true to his promise.

Anderson's thoughts wandered as he waited, contemplating the conditions and demands Jack might propose. What would be his bottom line in this newfound alliance? The destruction of the Assassin Brotherhood had granted Jack a level of credibility and capability that surpassed all expectations.

The Assassin Brotherhood had reigned as one of the apex power in the world, an indomitable force that commanded respect. Yet, it had been swept away in a mere morning. The Templar Knights, Anderson mused, must possess an unimaginable strength to achieve such a feat. The time for cooperation was ripe.

Lost in his thoughts, Anderson began to imagine the terms of their collaboration. However, in the blink of an eye, his attention returned to reality as he noticed a figure seated on the study sofa. Reacting swiftly, he moved to close the study door, shutting out the outside world, and drew the curtains, enveloping the room in an air of secrecy.

"You're here," Anderson said, a glimmer of satisfaction in his voice.

"I'm here," Jack replied calmly, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

"So... let's talk about cooperation?" Anderson offered a touch of intrigue lacing his words.

Jack's eyebrow raised slightly as he inwardly remarked, "Why don't you say, 'You shouldn't be here'? You don't play by the rules, do you?"

With a nod, he responded, "Indeed, it seems you are already aware."

Anderson, wearing a knowing smile, leaned forward. "With such a grand commotion, how could I not be aware? Did you notice that none of the policemen bothered to investigate?"

"Considering your remarkable performance, the possibility of cooperation has presented itself. So, tell me, what kind of assistance can we provide?" Anderson asked with a smile.

The room fell into contemplative silence as Jack formulated his answer. His gaze fixed on the flickering flames of the candles, and he spoke with a measured tone.

"The High Table has long thrived within the underbelly of society, its network sprawling across the globe. Affiliated organizations, diverse responsibilities, and many individuals are entrenched due to the government's laissez-faire approach."

Anderson nodded, acknowledging Jack's assessment.

"I understand the defensive strategy you have adopted. For now, it's a prudent approach considering the potential retaliation from the High Table's assassins. But I require only a small favor." Jack continued.

"The Knights Templar want to get the same treatment," Jack said, his voice dripping with determination and a hint of mischief.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of confidence that was hard to ignore.

"I don't need you to send someone out, my friend, for that wouldn't align with my principles. I need you to simply ignore the epic battle that's about to unfold between the Knights Templar and the Continental Hotel."

Anderson blinked, momentarily taken aback by Jack's absurd request.

"That's it? Don't you need money, money, people, or power?" he managed to stammer, his mind struggling to catch up with the unexpected turn of events.

Ah, Anderson thought, bracing himself for the forthcoming request. He knew that dealing with Jack always had an element of surprise.

"Others things, I don't need them. I can procure those resources myself. My people are fighting on the front lines, risking their lives. I can't afford to be stabbed in the back by you, my dear Anderson. Trust becomes a rare currency under the menacing threat of the high table. If there's no guarantee, I simply can't trust your people."

"This is the bottom line of our cooperation," Jack declared, his voice firm yet tinged with authority.

Jack's words hung in the air, hammering into Anderson's consciousness. His mind raced to find a response that could match the gravity of the situation.

Jack's piercing gaze never wavered. He held Anderson's eyes, his tone unwavering.

"Go and report to your superior, Mr. Anderson. This matter exceeds your ability to handle it alone. I need someone with a higher status to give me the assurance I seek."