Memories

Desmond Miles looked out the window of the high office building, or so the public outside thought. They would be curious over that fact, however. In the last 2 weeks, there had been a series of attacks on the building, strange men that donned hoods of white and robes of white and red. His friends, his parents, his close-knit community were all killed in the attack. Defenders? No. Rescuers? Yes. They had been coming to set him free from this prison. This prison of memories, that were not even his own.

But that matters little now, they were dead, and he was still trapped, and not only that, but the company that was holding him captive were Templars, or the modern version. And the reason he was captive? Well, not too certain, but fairly sure, Desmond thought of the trials his mind was set to. Carrying on his ancestor's history, assassinating many leaders from the years around 1191.

Yes, his ancestor, Altair ibn La'Ahad, was an assassin. In fact, so was he. The only difference was the weapons, the style, and the reason. Altair did it for peace. Desmond, for chaos.

Desmond, a young man, around 27, was tall, lean, and muscular. His own tan rivaled that of his ancestor's. In fact, they almost looked exactly alike. That was what cast his mind into turmoil when watching his ancestor do these things. Assassinations, merciless killings, that must be what people saw of him when he did such things.

His only hope for survival was the only assassin other than himself that was left alive. Her name is Lucy Stillman. She was about his age, mid-framed, golden hair. She was the technician for the Animus, which was what their company, Abstergo, used to extract his ancestor's memories.

His enemy, Warren Vidic. He was one of the Templars. He wanted only his memories; saw Desmond as a tool, something to be used to achieve his goals. His goal? Dominance over the human race. His weapon with which to wrought this new world? A small silver orb. It was called a piece of Eden. It was able to control the minds of many, causing total submission to the user's commands.

These past few days, something strange happened. He was able to see as his ancestor did. He had seen atrocities that were committed within the walls of his own room, his own prison cell. Many had died here. None had left. The last subject had tried to leave clues as to what he could do to escape. He had no clue what to do.

"Mister Miles? Today will be very exciting for you. You will get to meet some new friends. Maybe even see some you already know!" The scratchy voice on the other side of the door said. Warren.

The door opened, and he was blindfolded and led to another room. When it was off, he saw 2 other people, with 8 Chairs around a section of the room filled by 8 Animus machines. Each was different, however. The colors were all different. Some were angular, others, smooth.

Immediately, a face caught his eye.

The face belonged to Lucy. But why Lucy? She was the main technician, wasn't she? He looked at the other one.

A woman, a full foot shorter, he was sure, than himself. She had dark locks of hair falling to her shoulders, and piercing blue eyes. Thin, small framed, he thought of her worth in a fight.

"I'm stuck with this loser? Oh, this won't be a long trip," She said. When she spoke, it was like broken glass in an ice bucket. Cold. And unexpectedly sharp. "Ouch. Who invited this basket of joy?" Lucy stood up. He noticed she was a bit jittery, and not too happy. "Would you two cut that out? Desmond, meet Erin, Erin, this is Desmond. The rest of the group will be arriving shortly."

Desmond took a seat next to Miss Sunshine and drew a sigh. This would probably be a long time co-worker type relationship. Or co-prisoner. "Hey, why are you here? This place is no where for a lady," he said politely.

"No place for a lady like you either, huh?"

"I mean, who are you in for?"

At this, she cocked her head quizzically.

"What do you mean?"

"Your ancestor! What are you, a guest here!?"

"Oh, I am descendent of a Templar knight, one that I believe your ancestor, Altair almost killed. I don't want to wring your neck, don't worry. These Templars are holding me here, too. My ancestor was an outcast or something."

"Wait, how'd you know Altair's name," He asked suspiciously.

"Well, I know more than you think."

The auto door opened, and in came 3 more people.

"Hey Erin!"

"How are you?"

"What's up?"

The three were made up of a woman identical to Erin (To this, Desmond said "Great! Two of you!"), a muscle-bound, hulking man, probably in his thirties, and a slim, pale man, around twenty.

The sister introduces herself as Karen.

"I know, confusing."

The pale man says his name is Eric, and will also claim he is the brains of the 3 brothers. "These two don't do much thinking."

He won't receive an argument.

"Well, my name is Sev. Don't ask my real name, you'll probably forget anyhow." Says the muscular one.

"Sup. I'm Andy." Says the smaller one, around 16.

"I'm Desmond, nice to meet you all."

They each took a seat, and talked among themselves.

Desmond soon found out that Karen's Ancestor is an archer, an expert, in fact.

Andy's is a skilled and infamous thief, committing some of the most notorious thefts in history, while Sev happens to be another assassin, like Altair.

And Eric boasts that his ancestor was a marginally successful mastermind with both hands stuck fast in crime. "I even found that he was slightly pyromaniacal. Slightly."

After about ten minutes, there was a clicking sound, and Warren Vidic entered the room.

"I'm sorry to announce that the other guest has been deceased in the process of forced synchronization. Carry on without him, and I guess that makes Desmond the new leader. We had planned for the other to be your tactical advisor, but he was a bit heated over cooperating, so he could not join us."