Charles Dorian once told Pierre about his daughter. He proudly, albeit drunkenly rambled about her being a prodigy and was to follow in his footsteps one day.
It was just months later did Bellec have an idea:
Plant a sleeper agent in the Templars.
The soldier did have morals, but on the battlefield, one must do whatever it takes to overcome the enemy.
Pierre had first asked his co-worker to meet his daughter.
“Monsieur Bellec!” said an exuberant Arno. Gabriel sighed in exasperation, but smiled fondly at her. Bellec narrowed his eyes at the show of affection towards the kid. The boy could be a problem.
“Bonjour, pi-” Bellec was cut off by the sudden glare in his direction. The Baguette Boyband as he once sneered out suddenly appeared and glared at him with a surprising amount of fervor.
“I mean girl.”
"And to you as well." The child said, oblivious to the murderous glaring directed at him. He nearly shook his head in exasperation. He could tell that the trio of Assassins would be overprotective of her. But still... nothing that a few long-distance missions couldn't fix.
"Would you like to become like your father, little one?" He inquired. And he wasn't lying either. She would be doing the Brotherhood a great help.
"Really, Monsieur Bellec? I would love to!" Arno excitedly said.
Regardless of his beliefs, was it wrong to say that a part of him was disgusted by his actions?
Training did not come easy. Arno turned out to be quite stubborn and unwilling to do, the more... lethal parts of it.
Belize eventually got her past that.
As Arno lay panting before him, Bellec picked up his blade once more and struck. She went flying and hit the wall from the blow.
"Get up, pisspot." Arno shook her head. Another blow landed on her tender side. She recoiled in pain, "The enemy won't hold back and laze around like you are. Get. Up."
The girl managed to overcome his defense briefly, the following day.
Bellec's eyes hardened. Now, came the more difficult part.
As a soldier, Pierre knew various techniques to plant 'sleeper' commands in a person's mind without the subject knowing. And not just through the shoddy method that was called hypnotism.
His student's mind was moldable and young.
And Bellec knew that it was altogether too easy to manipulate.
The soldier watched the meeting go down with impassive eyes that hid a deeper emotion. Everything came down to this moment to finally free Paris of the Templars.
All of his work would ultimately pay off.
Bellec smirked as both sides played the fool and they agreed to the bargain.
Arno Dorian would be a ward of Francois De La Serre.
Everything would finally pay off.
Several of years later, He knew it was time. Bellec sent a white dove to Arno Dorian as a birthday present.
She assassinated the Grandmaster and guardian, the next day.
And then the world burned.
How did it come this? He bemoaned drunkenly. How could things go so wrong?
Arno was supposed to kill herself because of the sleeper command and of guilt.
She didn't and came after the Brotherhood. Everyone, his comrades, was dying around him. It started with the low-ranking ones, the Apprentices, and Novices. Then the heavy-hitters began disappearing and soon enough a council member.
Pisspot was learning.
A sound to his left made his alarms go off as the bar was supposed to be empty. He tried to push himself off the counter only to stumble and fall to the floor.
This was supposed to be a secure location, damn it. An Assassin Bar.
A female figure set with the telltale black and crimson robes of an Assassin Hunter walked into the room.
"Who are you?" he slurred out.
"I am the one who is going to kill you." Ah, it was Arno Dorian. Finally came to get revenge, did she?
Arno idly picked up a knife and expertly spun it around. Bellec knew what was to come. She didn't want his death to be quick.
Another Assassin Hunter came into the bar. Bellec almost laughed. One Assassin and two Assassin Hunter walked into a bar. That sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.
"Don't do this, lass. You will not get closure from this." Frustration was apparent on Arno's face. Getting impatient, was she?
"Whether I do or not will not change the fact that he murdered the Grandmaster, my father."
"Let me take this burden from you."
"No." Within the blink of an eye, she got out her pistol and shot him in the kneecap. A bloody scream escaped his loosened lips.
Bellec cursed at her in French.
"I've seen how caring Cormac was with you. Having fun with him, are you?" he sneered. If he could not injure with actions, then let him with words.
"My relationship with him is and will be none of your business." Her dual hidden blades activated.
"Let's have some fun, Bellec~" She mockingly said.
"And may you find a hell of your own making."
Those were his last words as cold, ruthless metal eagerly dug into his flesh. Agonized screams were all that he uttered out.
It was regretful that his last sight in life was the bloodthirsty eyes of a woman on the path of no return.