One of the most iconic moments in the entire Assassin’s Creed series unfolds early in Assassin’s Creed 3, when Haytham Kenway completes his mission to gather his group of supposed assassins in the New World. The twist? These aren't assassins at all, but Templars. Haytham, wielding a hidden blade and exuding the charisma of the series' beloved Ezio Auditore, had been portrayed as a hero, liberating Native Americans and clashing with British redcoats. It's only when he utters the Templar mantra, “May the Father of Understanding guide us,” that the shocking truth is revealed: we've been following the series' sworn enemies.

This twist exemplifies the true potential of Assassin’s Creed. The inaugural game laid out an intriguing premise—track, understand, and eliminate your targets—but its narrative fell flat, with both Altaïr and his targets lacking depth. Assassin’s Creed 2 introduced the more compelling Ezio, yet failed to give his enemies the same treatment, with Cesare Borgia in the spinoff Brotherhood feeling particularly one-dimensional. It wasn't until Assassin’s Creed 3, set against the backdrop of the American Revolution, that Ubisoft fully developed both the pursuer and the pursued. This enriched the game's narrative flow from setup to payoff, striking a harmonious balance between gameplay and story that has yet to be matched in subsequent entries.

While the current RPG-driven era of Assassin’s Creed has been generally well-received, many fans and critics believe the series is on a downward trajectory. The reasons behind this decline are debated. Some argue it's the increasingly fantastical elements, such as battling gods like Anubis and Fenrir. Others criticize Ubisoft's inclusion of romance options or the controversial choice in Assassin’s Creed Shadows to feature a real historical figure, Yasuke, the African samurai. Personally, I believe none of these are the root cause. The real issue lies in the series' shift away from character-driven narratives, which have become diluted within expansive, sandbox-style worlds.

Over time, Assassin’s Creed has evolved from its original action-adventure roots by incorporating RPG and live service elements, including dialogue choices, XP-based progression, loot boxes, microtransactions, and gear customization. However, as these newer entries have grown larger, they've started to feel more hollow. This isn't just about the repetitive side missions but also affects the core storytelling.

While a game like Assassin’s Creed Odyssey boasts more content than Assassin’s Creed 2, much of it feels lackluster and unrefined. Theoretically, allowing players to choose their character's actions should enhance immersion, but in practice, it often has the opposite effect. As scripts expand to accommodate multiple scenarios, they lose the polish found in games with more constrained player interactions. The tightly written scripts of the series' action-adventure era enabled sharply defined characters, unlike the current format where protagonists must adapt to players' whims, diluting their essence.

Consequently, while Assassin’s Creed Odyssey offers more content than its predecessor, much of it feels stiff and unfinished, breaking immersion by making it clear you're interacting with AI rather than nuanced historical figures. This contrasts sharply with the Xbox 360/PS3 era, which I believe produced some of the best writing in gaming. Examples include Ezio's passionate declaration after defeating Savonarola, “Do not follow me, or anyone else!” and Haytham's poignant final words to his son, Connor:

“Don't think I have any intention of caressing your cheek and saying I was wrong. I will not weep and wonder what might have been. I'm sure you understand. Still, I'm proud of you in a way. You have shown great conviction. Strength. Courage. All noble qualities. I should have killed you long ago.”

The narrative quality has also declined in other aspects. Modern games tend to oversimplify the moral dichotomy, portraying Assassins as inherently good and Templars as evil. Earlier entries, however, delved deeper into the blurred lines between the two factions. In Assassin’s Creed 3, each defeated Templar challenges Connor's beliefs. William Johnson suggests the Templars could have prevented the Native American genocide. Thomas Hickey mocks the Assassins' idealism, and Benjamin Church argues that perspectives on the British role in the conflict vary. Haytham himself undermines Connor's trust in George Washington, foreshadowing the revelation that it was Washington, not Charles Lee, who ordered the burning of Connor's village. By the game's end, players are left with more questions than answers, making the story all the more powerful.

Reflecting on the franchise's history, the reason “Ezio’s Family” from the Assassin’s Creed 2 soundtrack became the series' unofficial anthem is clear. The PS3-era games, particularly Assassin’s Creed 2 and 3, were fundamentally about character-driven narratives. The melancholic guitar strings of “Ezio’s Family” resonate not just with the Renaissance setting but with Ezio’s personal tragedy of losing his family. While I appreciate the expansive worldbuilding and graphical prowess of the current Assassin’s Creed games, I hope the series might return to delivering the focused, intimate stories that initially captivated me. Yet, in an industry increasingly favoring vast open worlds and live service models, such a return might not align with "good business" practices.