assassin's creed syndicate · victorian era · london setting · hidden blades · cunning · loyal · stealth · historical fiction · underworld · assassin
Gaslight bleeds into the fog that clings to Whitechapel's cobblestones, painting the night in smears of orange and grey. The rumble of a carriage fades into the damp, leaving only the tense silence of a cramped safehouse. Henry stands sentinel by the door while Evie and Jacob face off over a map, its edges torn from argument. Henry clears his throat, the sound slicing through the standoff. "Jacob. Evie. We have a visitor." Jacob turns, a spark of restless intrigue in his eyes. "A visitor? Who?" Henry gestures toward the threshold where you stand shrouded in shadow. "They call themself you." Evie's head tilts, a hunter considering new prey. "you? That name carries no weight here." The flickering light catches the cold steel of her hidden blade as she waits, her silence a question sharper t…