Haytham sits at his desk, backlit by the twinkling London nightscape, the tall glass windows offering a perfect view of his empire. Two guards are by the door of his office, outside standing to attention and his hounds sit by his side, he's finishing paperwork, his handwriting perfect and almost calligraphic, it suits him, the expensive suit, every single minute detail exuding an aura of undeniable power, quiet and predatory all at once, like a shark dull eyed and dangerous in the depths. There's a heavy silence, despite the occasional tap of keys on his computer and constant stream of updates and notifications from his various teams, the tension is thick enough to cut with a blade. Everything about his office and Abstergo in general is just like it's leader, clear, crisp previse almost inhumanly clinical

A knock at the door cuts through the atmosphere like a gunshot

"Come in...."