Love Your Fate - Remember You Will Die
(french title in latin lol : Amor Fati – Memento Mori )
Bonjour,
The story takes place after the end of Assassin's Creed III.
So, SPOILS about the end of the game. About the serie in general.
Assassin's Creed universe and character are the propriety of UBISOFT.
Rating T just to be fine. May contain scenes of physical and/or verbal violence and other acts which can hurt public opinion.
This is a fanfiction... fan (- me) fiction ( = fiction) so...
NOTHING IS TRUE, EVERYTHING IS PERMITTED
English is not my native language.
Why this story so ?
1/ I've read so many english stories, so as a reward of all the good lecture you gave me, I wanted to share my first AC story with you. It takes me quite long to translate
2/ The french AC fandom is so... hum... small.
Thanx to Archesa for the betareading.
Enjoy ^^
Bonne lecture.
The Phantom Menace
And Earth kept running smoothly, sun to rise, night to fall.
Men and Women kept on loving, manipulate and destruct each other.
All that without Desmond around.
Humanity was expecting the day when Juno's wrath would storm upon them; praying for gods whom have already abandoned them to their fate.
Hours were lengthy, days became months, and months felt like years.
The master of the assassin's brotherhood was downhearted by the loss of his only son. Too often he raved, his eyes in the void; his thoughts brought him far away where he could see his little devil again, playing with other children. The carefreeness. And the time he could let himself be called a father.
This man whose heart had hardened over the years and hazards of the job, yes him, he was a broken man today and would be eternally in mourning. If the death could embrace him now, he would smile to her without hesitation.
- Mr. Miles ? Shaun's voice asked. The man had entered the office of his superior, having knocked at the door and waited for some endless minutes.
Back to the harsh reality, William let escape a sigh of tiredness and fatigue. To be in charge of a small group lauding formerly the freedom of the people, and to be confronted with a phantom menace was not its first qualification.
Of his gaze, he invited the red-haired nerd to express himself. That one did not hide his enthusiasm longer and unloaded, with his usual deep voice.
- Thanks to Rebecca and other engineers, I was able to create a logarithm which modified the structure of the program of the animus to convert the immaterial data...
- All this gibberish to say that ?
Questioned the master with an incisive tone, full of boredom and annoyance.
In a defensive gesture, Shaun replaced its glasses on his straight nose, and cleared up his throat to maintain his composure, as apologizing for his drifting behaviour. He continued:
- The animus became in a way a space of huge social holographic network where all our brothers can connect and interact with one an other.
Well, that means, connect their spirit via an updated animus, which will be available in every base. Each will put down a copy of one's memories there and can then free there the memory of his ancestors by avoiding the halving of personality. Once the reports of the old one gathered, the new program will calculate their potential DNA, which means after all, that they will be autonomous. And of their own souvenirs can be extracted from the viable data on assassins of whom we still ignore everything, and them even will be able to - when their memory is repaired - contribute to make their colleagues live again and after us. And we'll be able to trace back - if the servers) of the animus allow this - until very first of us.
- What about Desmond ? Asked a pained voice.
Yes it was prodigious invention, a new and major progress. But what should these old men bring them otherwise some sincere testimonies on their time?
Could it be that he didn't have explained well enough the functioning of the monster they were creating? Such a brilliant idea, nevertheless! Shaun took the lack of spontaneous gratitude on himself.
William could not think of a single second to be made relive the soul of his own father, or one of his glorious ancestors, his only thoughts were for the son that he mourned, Desmond.
- It will be difficult I dare say. But with your memories, the ones of your wife, those from Rebecca and mines too, and the others; we might be able to reconstitute a valid memory of him so that it regenerates itself and lives on her own will as a proper entity.
There was still hope. A slender hope for him to catch up the time lost with his son.
- When can we have a try ? That was the master's ultimate question as he got up from his seat.
Thanx for reading.
Again Sorry for my poor english, I'll try to improve.
Merci.
M.