Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or any material related to Ubisoft in any way or form. Neither do I own "Clowns" by T.A.T.U.
A/N: Not as good as some other things I've written, but I needed to jog my muse. I basically started writing nothing but gibberish on a pad of paper in class and eventually became a half-story. Then again, perhaps the style and syntax relates to the overall tone & predominant insanity aspect which I happened to get from my lazy muse.
Inspiration: "Clowns (Can You See Me Now?)" by T.A.T.U.
In the beginning, when this whole mess with the Assassins and Templar Knights had started, he was trapped within a machine of chrome and glass. The second time, he reclined on a blood red chair which, to his nose, reeked of a coppery tang, of even more death.
The Creed. Adrenaline. Silent leap.
The Animus. The deadliest weapon invented by man; a creation to bring destruction and insanity upon those ensnared within its blank-white depths. Such a cruel way to kill. So necessary to save the world.
Icy blade. Resistance. Scorching blood.
Memory loading… Subject Sixteen. Lucy Stillman, Warren Vidic. Assassin, Templar. Friend, Foe. Apple of Eden, Adam and Eve. Prophet, Pope. Present, Past. The pallid murk parts, and buildings sprout from the earth. Though he lives his ancestry from centuries in the future, a part of his soul remains with every blood-kin. Like the Pieces, it is this which destroys his self-essence. What does it all mean?
Death's absolution. Prayer. Close with respect.
Eden's fruit stands trial as the murderer; the Animus proves evidence as the weapon. His ancestors remain barely lucid in thoughts incomprehensible. WhowhatwhereisMinerva? He joins his voice with his hundred blood-kin's: "We do not understand. What are we meant to see?".
Whistling wind. Flight. Leap of faith.
The buildings crumble around him, and he hears from the earth the Truth, this, "Don't hide your eyes from me. Open them and see me now." He knows without knowing how that it's the voice of the Eternal Mother, the Lifegiver of all, speaking to Her sole Protector, the one who will purge humanity from suffering. He heard it once, not realizing its significance, and now the pain begins, for the Protector must suffer in order to help others.
Eyes of earth. Sight. Golden eyes.
The whisper rises, becomes a shout, pulsing in his blood, invading every fiber of his being. And when it reaches his heart, his mind splinters. Loss of life, loss of heart. Loss of self. Desmond screams.
"You are the Prophet."
Can you see me now?