APPLe: snore
Ezio: Uccello.
APPLe: Huh?! Who? Where?
APPLe: Oh, s-sorry, I hadn't meant to drift to sleep. It's just that so much has happened over the past few days.
The Assassin's attention is fixed intently on the fresco before him.
Ezio: Perhaps the bird in the fresco represents Uccello himself.
Ezio: "Uccello" means bird, after all.
APPLe: Hmm ... so then in these paintings, Uccello is a wondrous bird that has many followers?
Ezio: A metaphor.
APPLe: It seems like we're nearly there, but something's still missing. Perhaps I can take a closer look.
APPLe slowly floats upward to the blank area.
As if in perfect synchronization, a beam of light passes through the stained glass, illuminating APPLe and the blank area before him.
Fervent reds, vivid greens ... a panoply of new colors blossom in the light, only to fade like the ebbing tide.
Ezio: !
APPLe: You saw that too, right?
Ezio nods.
Ezio: There were colors—fleeting, yes, but no trace of color is ever fully erased. Let's see ...
Ezio wipes the blank section of the wall, then sniffs his hand.
Ezio: There's a faint metallic smell.
APPLe: Metallic smell? But this APPLe doesn't see anything on the wall that could create such a smell.
Ezio: Trust me, in my line of work, I've become very familiar with the scent.
There is unwavering confidence in his tone.
APPLe: Erhm ... I do hope you aren't implying that those awful rumors that Mr. Leonardo told me yesterday are true.
"Then they cut their wrists to shed blood; mixed it with hair and soil and painted the mixture on the wall."
APPLe: No, no-no-no-no-no, I refuse to follow this train of thought. It must be something else, something less gory; give me a minute ...
APPLe: Metal, oxidation, frescoes, and pigment ...
A series of keywords emerge and intertwine in his mind until the final piece of the puzzle falls into place.
APPLe: Oh, I've got it!
APPLe: Many artists in this era use pigments derived from minerals such as ochre, lapis lazuli, and chromium compounds.
APPLe: When exposed to moisture, they undergo oxidation, which may be the source of this metallic scent.
APPLe stares at the blank space in front of him.
APPLe: Yes, it all makes sense now. I've cracked the code to this perplexing riddle, and the answer shines brighter than ever before—
A deliberate pause, as if awaiting thunderous applause from his audience.
Ezio: Please.
The Assassin stifles a laugh and makes a polite bow to suggest he continue.
APPLe: Ahem ... I can only conclude that the artists used a special pigment that's only visible under specific lighting!
Ezio: Only visible under specific lighting? How? That sounds like sorcery.
APPLe: This isn't sorcery, friend. It's science!
APPLe: Back in this APPLe's timeline—I mean homeland—pigments like this are not particularly rare.
APPLe: But why does this phenomenon seem to be receptive to ... my body ...? Oh, I see!
APPLe's golden glow grows even brighter, like a small rising sun.
APPLe: So this APPLe is no different than a kind of optical filter!
Ezio: An optical filter?
APPLe: As you might know, sunlight consists of various wavelengths of electromagnetic radiation.
Ezio: Waves of sunlight? I don't get it.
APPLe: Erhm ... Never mind that; let's assume this pigment is only visible under specific colors of light, say, red light or orange light.
APPLe: At dusk, when the sun is near the horizon, its rays travel through the atmosphere at a steeper angle, which diffuses the blue and ultraviolet light, causing the sunlight to appear more orange and red. A sunset, in other words.
APPLe: Building on this, if we use an optical filter to block out even more blue and ultraviolet wavelengths ...
Ezio: You may as well get to the point, Mr. APPLe, because you've lost me.
APPLe twirls excitedly in midair.
APPLe: With the right amount of red and orange light, the pigment on the wall should become visible!
Ezio: But for how long? The light from before faded in an instant.
APPLe: Well, that's true ...
APPLe: Highly limited in duration—and in size, too, nothing like the breathtaking display Leonardo demonstrated in the monastery.
APPLe: It may require a particular angle to achieve the desired effect. However, figuring that out will take some complex mathematical calculations ...
They both pause to examine the painting.
The white space remains undisturbed, impervious to its observers.
APPLe: So this is Uccello's final puzzle, huh?
APPLe: All this has really piqued my curiosity, Ezio. What kind of man was this Paolo Uccello?
Ezio: ...
Ezio: I'm sorry. I can't even recall his face.
Ezio: Though I'm not surprised by his use of riddles, if he is anything like the other artists I know. They all like hiding puzzles in their work; it's a means of protecting them from imposters.
Ezio: I do know he had a passion for drawing birds. That's part of the reason they call him "Uccello."
APPLe: You can tell from the meticulous detailing he painted them with.
Ezio: Other than that though he was quite ordinary.
Not as lively as Leonardo, nor as eccentric as Brunelleschi.
APPLe: Is that so ...? Yet this "ordinary" man had a mind as vast as the universe itself.
APPLe: Not only was he a legendary painter, but he was also a pioneer in perspective and lighting.
APPLe: The perplexing puzzles he left in his works have proved an enduring challenge for scholars to decipher. Not to mention he seems to be one of these "Compliners" cultists!
Ezio doesn't seem to give the accusation much weight.
Reaching out his hand, he gently brushes the chipped wall.
Ezio: He was also a Florentine.
Ezio: And it's no wonder that a Florentine can work wonders.
The fog in the central nave has cleared.
Vertin: Urgh ...
She awakens feeling like her body is filled with lead.
Vertin: Sotheby ... Leonardo ...
Leonardo: snore
Sotheby: sob Don't eat me, please ...
Vertin notices a half-open censer on the altar table.
Vertin: That must have been the source of the sleeping gas ...
Vertin: Thank you, Ms. Sotheby. That potion you gave me seems to have mitigated the effects of the gas.
Sotheby: sob I'm not tasty, really ...
The sleeping young lady appears gripped in a terrible nightmare.
Vertin: It seems they aren't going to be waking up any time soon.
Vertin: Urgh ...
Vertin: pant There you go.
The dozing duo are dragged behind the altar, hidden beneath the holy protection of its shadow.
Vertin: You should be safe here, for the time being.
Sotheby: Angel's trumpets are poisonous ... Keep clear from them ...
Vertin: ... sigh
Vertin: I'm sorry. I'll be back as soon as I can.
Templar Commander: Well, our reinforcements are in position.
Templar Commander: I understand that the Padre already took care of the rats in the central nave. You, go fetch them and lock them up!
Templar V: Yes, Commander!
Templar Commander: The rest of you will follow me to eliminate our troublesome assassin, seize the Golden Apple and claim those relics!
Templar Commander: Now pull yourselves together! We can't let this assassin get the drop on us. So if I catch any of you slacking off, you're going to wish I'd kicked you off the ledge here.
Templar Commander: Understand?!
Templar Knights: Yes, Commander!
Templar Commander: May the Father of Understanding guide—hmm?
The Templar commander notices a slender shadow behind a brick chimney.
Templar Commander: Who's there? Show yourself!
Vertin: ... Good afternoon, sir.
Templar Commander: You! Aren't you that visitor from last night?
Vertin: ...
A breeze sweeps through, carrying up the tension in the air.
Templar Commander: Hmph, don't tell me; you snuck your way up here for some sightseeing, miss.
Templar Commander: Get her!
COMBAT
Templar Commander: Hurry! Flank her from the other side!
Templar Commander: She must be with the Assassins! Don't let her get away!
Vertin: Urgh!
Obviously, these tiles weren't made for running.
Her foundation training didn't include any programs on rooftop evasion.
Vertin: I need to find Ezio and Mr. APPLe, but ...
The enormous dome looms ahead, the dark ventilation grates resembling the dim, watchful eyes of giant beasts.
Far from a welcoming sight.
Vertin: How should I get inside?
Templar Commander: It appears you're lost, miss.
Templar Commander: Thieves, courtesans, and foreigners ... I've always wondered why the Assassins only attract the likes of you as allies.
Vertin: It's not hard to side with the Assassins when the only other option is you.
Templar Commander: Hah, you're just a band of faithless lowlifes, nothing more.
Vertin: ...!
She inches backward but finds there's no more roof left to meet her step.
Templar Commander: Do you cherish your life, miss? Or will you leap down like one of those suicidal assassins?
Templar Knights: Hahahaha!
Laughter erupts from the advancing thugs.
Vertin: ...
Her heart beats faster and faster, as if it might burst up from her throat at any moment.
Templar Commander: Ughh!!
A throwing knife pierces through the commander's eye.
Templar Commander: Arghhh! M-My eye!!
Dead on.
Flashes of flying blades flicker in the chaos.
Templar V: Arrrgh!!
The Templars fall from the rooftop one by one.
Just around the corner, a grayish figure stands silently, like a phantom in the sunlight.
Vertin: Ezio!
Ezio: Follow the wall on the right until you see a mechanical bird. I placed it there to mark a hidden window. Your friend's waiting for you there.
Vertin: What about you?
The Assassin takes a step forward, directing his gaze toward another wave of Templars.
Their armor glints coldly in the waning sunlight, forming a restless, silver sea on the rooftop.
Ezio: I have other work to do.