A/N, You honestly have no idea how fun it was to write the prologue. The others chapters so far have been fun as well which is good.
I'm not sure when I'll be updating 'Tell Me' but I should get the next chapter of 'Half A Dozen Secrets' up soon, well as soon as I've decided how to write Perry's view point.
Depending on how this story goes I might put up the other one I've been working on as well.
This is an A/U, as you've no doubt noticed; I'm rather fond of them.
Rating: T for death and eventual coarse language.
Summary: Desmond Miles died when he was twenty one years old. No one was aware of the significance. 121 years later they're bringing him back.
Disclaimer: I don't Assassin's creed, or any Rise against songs/lyrics
To spend your waking moments (simply killing time)
Desmond tightens his grip on the handles and leans down into his bike. He's burning through gas quickly and will have to stop soon to refuel. He speeds up and wind rushes through his hair, it stings his eyes even behind the glasses he's wearing. His helmet is at home, the trip is quick, and he won't need it.
Blurs of buildings rush past as he swerves around car after car. He can see his destination now and swings into the next lane.
A horn rings out, loud and startling he feels fear run through his body as he sees the truck hammer towards him. Instinct has him turning the bike away but he's barely moved it when the metal face collides the front of his bike.
Some part of him registers the way it crumpled as pain rushes through his body. The sunglasses go flying and car tires screech as they try to stop from building the already disastrous mess. The truck driver is fine and almost falls out of his truck as he tries comprehend what just happened.
"911" he yells even as he lifts his own phone to his ear "Somebody call 911"
The ambulances arrive shortly but have trouble manoeuvring through the streets that are filled with shocked and panicked people. The rest of the world hardly blinks an eye.
By the time Desmond arrives at a hospital he has already been dead for half an hour.
No one recognises him, he didn't have any ID on him at the time of the crash and for sixty years Desmond is buried without a name.
It is another thirty years before anyone recognises the significance.
Somewhere in a small section of the largest company on earth a group of scientist begin working.
It has been almost thirty one years since they began working. The date is December thirty first 2133 and as the New Year begins Desmond's heart will start beating again for the first time in one hundred and twenty one years.