Present Day: 2012
My Name is Desmond Miles, For the past year I have returned back into my previous life, involved in the conflict between two major groups: Templers, who wish to control everyone and everything, and Assassin's, liberators of peace and sworn protectors of the free will of men. Using a special machine known as the Animus, I have been able to live the lives of my ancestors: first I was Altaïr Ibn-La'AHad, a Syrian assassin from the Third Crusade, than I was Ezio Auditore da Firenze, a Renaissance assassin who thwarted a Pope's plans, Liberated Rome from the Borgia, and defeated a pretender emperor and a jealous heir all in one lifetime. Now with the help from my team, we will stop at nothing to preventthe satilite launch which result in the total destruction of our freedom. Will we succeed, we hope so. My Name is Desmond Miles, I'm an Assassin.
Back in the van, Desmond wakes up after taking a well earned rest according to his father's orders. Desmond sit's up, but his father stops him.
"Slowly there champ. You haven't moved in weeks, so don't start pushing it".
Desmond looked up towards his father's face, remembering how much younger and firm it was before he left the farm. But that was years ago, even before Desmond was even fully grown up himself. He shifted himself around and placed his feet onto the ground. He slowly attempted to push himself to his feet, slowly extending out his knee's and supporting himself on the frame of the chair. He was shaky at first, but it wore off when he caught his balance.
He looked back up, but nearly hobbled back into a seating position. Luckily his father caught him. Desmond turned his head. "Thanks".
"Don't mention it, But don't get too comfortable. We have work to do."
"Work?" Desmond nearly forgot they were on a time sensitive mission. He looked round the van. "Where's Shaun and Rebecca?"
"Rebecca went for some coffee, Shaun is still search for an entrance into the vault."
"Vault? What vault?"
Desmond's father pointed outside at the overlapping hills, covered in thick greenery and woodland just outside of the van. "Over there is where we need to go to reach the vault".
Desmond looked uneasily at the hill. He had barely got up from the chair of a van, how was he suppose to get up an entire hill? He shook it off and thought to himself: 'Cummon Desmond, you're an assassin, climbing is a natural instinct for you. Ezio was in his fifties when he climbed the Galanta Tower in Istanbul. . . six hundred years ago'. Desmond began to make a slow walk towards the doors.
"Whoa, where are you going?" his father asked.
Desmond looked confused for a while. "T-Towards the vault in the hills".
"I know where you're going, but that's not what I need you for".
"What?"
"I know it's too much to ask, but I need you to go back into the animus".
Desmond turned towards the silver and red reclined armchair like machine, the technology behind its creation was astounding that it could take peaks into your genes and let you relive your ancestor's memories through the details of history being passed down from generation to generation. Desmond had used it, even enough to consider him a pro, but it was not only full of thrilling memories, but also the sad ones too.
Desmond looked back at his dad for information. "Why exactly?"
"See, to get into the vault, we need to look back at one of our ancestor's lives to open it. I personally tried and can't due to my . . . mmmm, complications. So you will take my place and we will try and crack open this case once and for all".
Desmond was uneasy with his father's whole 'complications' theory, but he willing laid back onto the animus. His father put the gear on and set up the controls. Before a while, Desmond was in.
"Dad, how do you know how to work this thing?"
"I read up on a previous subjects files: Daniel Cross, the obnoxious Subject 4 they call him now."
"Huh?"
"Don't ask".
Desmond watched as the animus loaded up files, three of them in fact: two at the top, well one was, the second was slightly lower than the first. The third one loaded up in the central bottom screen, inside was a name: DESMOND MILES. It was his name. He watched as the other two loaded up, the furthest up read: ALTAÏR IBN-LA'AHAD, the other: EZIO AUDITORE DA FIRENZE. He watched by as the files tried to link up via streams of data.
"Please Wait, Loading". Then a light flashed. "Match Found". The file connecting himself, Ezio and Altaïr opened up.
"Match Found, Loading File: ARNALDO DE NARVÁEZ"