There is little of the world left. The 2012 Apocalypse has destroyed most of civilization, with Panem rising from the ashes. Unfortunately, what remained of the Templar order took control of this new government, turning it into a tyrannical dictatorship. Thanks to the efforts of Katniss Everdeen and her resistance, a new era of liberty and peace has begun for Panem.
However, when these events are retold, our involvement will be omitted, just like how it always has been since our order began. But let these series of documents be passed down to the Order's descendents, so that they may learn as to how we finally have achieved victory in our war.
This is the story of the Assassins' rebirth through the eyes of Grand Mentor Soran Aquila.
Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.
Chapter I
People assumed that everywhere outside of the nation of Panem was deserted after Doomsday. They knew so little. I remember accounts from my grandfather about how this country...America, I think, was actually coming very close to how sheltered and self-absorbed Panem currently is. According to him, it's almost like Doomsday never happened.
At least, that's what us Outsiders tried to make it seem.
We tried to rebuild our ancestor's technology, immitate their government, social heiarchy, and education the best we could. But ruined cities aren't the best place to start your own civilization and raise a child.
Especially when soldiers from Panem come to make their annual raids.
Their Captiol and so called "career districts" knew of our existance and exploited it. They came, and abduct the women and children one by one, selling them into slavery, killing the men if they tried to stop them. That's how my father, uncle, and grandfather died.
It's also how I got separated from my mother and sister. I am the last one from my city, stuck on a transport surrounded by other victims from all across the western side of the continent. Twelve years old, white clothes caked in grime and dirt, hands bound in tight cuffs, and starving beyond belief, I was hoping that these guards would just get bored and decide to kill me.
I am asking for too much.
I looked around at the other soon to be slaves, most of them kids my age, some of them girls slightly older than me, no doubt going to be the ones in highest demand. You'd hope that society would have changed enough for this kind of perversity and sickness to have been obliterated, but once again, I am asking too much.
We all have different hair colors, skin tones, eyes, and body density, but there was one thing we all shared. Fear.
"You! The boy in white!"
I looked up to see a guard staring down at me, the white and black armor shining from the sunlight piercing through what little windows this craft had.
"Yes?" I asked, somewhat defiantly. These guys could do whatever they wanted to me, I have nothing to live for anyway.
"What did they call you?"
I glared at the guard. "Like I'd tell you, asshole."
I felt my throat constrict as I was lifted into the air with the guard's fist clenched around my neck.
"Name. Now."
"Fuck...You-" I gasped.
The guard threw me across the craft, causing me to groan in pain as I hit the cold, metal floor. I heard his footsteps approach me, and watched as he squatted down to my level.
"Well then, runt," the guard said. "Since you have such a wonderful personality, how would you like to have a master that could easily kill you if you spoke like that to him?"
I gave a hoarse chuckle, even as the guard kicked me in the ribs. "I'm sold."
Just then, the intercom activated and a computerized voice filled the shuttle.
"Attention, passengers: We will be arriving in District Four in a few short minutes."
The guard smirked. "Tell me, have you ever heard of the Hunger Games?"
I remained silent. I had no idea what the Hunger Games were, and this guy should know it.
"Lucky for you, only tributes from the Districts can participate, so I can't throw you in the arena and watch you be torn apart. Instead, you will become the slave of the most recent winner and his family."
He pulled me up and escorted me to the shuttles hatch as it touched the ground.
"You should be honored," the guard laughed. "Not many game winners get a slave as a gift from the Capitol. In fact, most of these slaves go straight to the Capitol anyway. Anyway, I'm sure someone like Finnick Odair will put you in your place."
My ear perked as I heard the last name. Odair? Why did that sound familiar?
After we walked down the shuttle ramp, the guard shoved me into a military hovercar. I spent the whole drive silent as a grave as I watched the citizens of District Four go on with their everyday lives. I could see a few people just walking around, going into stalls or friend's houses, but most I could see were heading to the docks with various fishing equipment. Must be a major industry here.
When the car stopped at an area called Victor's Village, the guard pulled me out of the car and dragged me to one of the rather large marble houses. He knocked on the door and waited. A few seconds later, a boy with messy blond hair, about two years older than I was, answered the door.
"Mr. Odair," the guard greeted as he shoved me through the doorway. "As promised by President Snow, your slave. Caught fresh from the Outside."
Finnick glanced me over and smiled at the guard.
"Thank you," he said.
"Oh, and uh..." the guard stuttered. "My daughter is a huge fan of yours, so do you think I can get an autograph for her?"
Finnick flashed a bright smile. "Of course."
In the blink of an eye, Finnick left and came back with a slip of paper and a pen. He signed the slip, handed it to the guard, and saw him out the door. Once he left, the smile on Finnick's face faded as he walked over to me and unlocked my handcuffs.
"I'm not making you obide to the 'speak when spoken to' rule," he said. "I like talking to someone who speaks their own mind, and not the crap the Capitol feeds them."
I raised an eyebrow as my new master took me to the living room. "I wouldn't know, considering where I came from, but isn't it dangerous to talk like that about your government?"
Finnick gave a snort. "Yeah, but they don't have ears everywhere. I'm safe here, so I can say what I want. What's your name, by the way?"
"Soran Aquila."
Finnick turned his head curiously.
"Aquila? Hmm..."
"Is there something wrong with that?" I inquired.
"No, not at all," Finnick dismissed.
As we entered the living room, I stopped in front of a mirror in the entryway, to look at my reflection for the first time in months.
My black hair was long and unkept. My face seemed gaunt. My tanned skin seemed to have whitened slightly due to being kept out of the sun for so long. I couldn't believe I was looking at the same boy who was sitting in the living room with my family all those months ago.
"Mom, the slave's here," I heard Finnick call.
I turned from the mirror to see a woman approach us from one of the chairs. She was very attractive, with long blond hair, a slend body, and the sea green eyes of her son. I could guess that she had Finnick at a young age, because she looked to be in her late twenties.
She gave me a rueful look. "I'm really sorry."
"Sorry for what?" I asked, somewhat confused.
"That you have to be here," the mother said. "We didn't want a slave, we in fact greatly disprove of it. But..."
"But the Capitol threatened us if we didn't accept you," Finnick finished. "They like to keep the game victors in line and remind us who's in charge. They find different ways to take advantage of our fame and status, in this case, to promote slavery to Capitol citizens. If their champions have slaves, why shouldn't they?"
What kind of government is this? I was taught that this country used to be a democracy before Doomsday. How could they take this huge of a step back, and become this barbaric?
I put this thought aside. "What do you need me to do?"
The woman shrugged. "Mostly just help around the house, maybe run some errands at the stalls or help out with the local fishermen if they need it."
That didn't sound too bad.
"I'm Salacia, by the way," she said. "What is your name?"
"Soran," I replied.
"He said his last name was Aquila," Finnick added.
Salacia's eyes widened. "Aquila? Are you sure?"
"What about it?" I said. What was going on?
Salacia turned her attention back to me. "Tell me child, what do you know of Desmond Miles?"
I struggled to remember the stories my grandfather told me. "Only that he was credited for rebuilding most of society after 2012, and that he's my great grandfather."
"Did your grandfather tell you anything about the Assassin Order?"
"The what?"
"I guess that's a no."
Salacia turned to her son. "I'm taking him to the secret chamber. Make sure no one comes by in the mean time."
"Yes, mom."
Salacia walked over to the mantel. She pulled at a candle holder attached to the wall above it, and the furnace opened to reveal a staircase.
"Come," she commanded as she started down the stairs.
I followed cautiously. As the fireplace closed behind us, I moved closer to Salacia.
"Don't like the dark much, do you?"
"More like what's lurking in it."
I listened to her soft chuckle as she turned on a flashlight, illuminating her lovely features.
"Wise answer."
She led me down the spiraling stone steps.
"Does the Capitol know about this?" I asked.
"If they did, we wouldn't be here to show you," she answered. "District Four is secretly an Assassin stronghold, so there are plenty of chambers like this hidden throughout, built to honor our ancestors and hide our armories."
"But what is an Assassin?" I pressed.
"Your legacy."
We got to the bottom of the stairs, and stopped in front of a wall with a seal on it. The seal looked like a fancy A with a skull in the middle of it. Salacia inserted two of her fingers into the skull's eye sockets and pressed upward, causing the skull to reconfigure, becoming inverted. Then, the wall opened inward, opening the way to the chamber.
The chamber was filled with statues. Statues of different people from different time periods. Time periods I had no knowledge of due to Doomsday wiping out most records of our history.
As we progressed down the line, similar looking statues of men wearing white hoods caught my eye.
"These are your ancestors," Salacia explained.
She pointed to the statue with chainmail and a missing ring finger, with a small blade run down his arm in its place.
"That is Altaïr Ibn-Le'Ahad, credited for making major reforms to our Order through the Codex."
She then directed me to another statue, depicting another hooded man, this one with a cape and two of those blades on his arm, with a fancy sword on his belt.
"And he is Ezio Auditore, the Prophet and the only one to have entered The Vault."
The last one in line was of a hooded man wielding what my grandfather called a tomahawk.
"Connor Kenway, or Ratonhnhake;ton, secretly helped turn the tides in the revolution that founded the old country."
She then led me to the statue at the end of the chamber, standing behind what looked to be a stone tomb.
"And this, is Desmond Miles, the chosen one who relived the memories of Altair, Ezio, and Connor in order to try and discover the mystery of Doomsday and stop it."
I stared at the statue. This was my great grandfather, the great Desmond. But if these men that I saw; Altair, Ezio, and Connor, were his ancestors, then that means they're my ancestors too. Apparently, we were all Assassins, whatever that meant. And now, Salacia said something about reliving memories?
I turned to Salacia with a determined look.
"Tell me everything."
A/N: This is AU from the Assassin's Creed III ending, where Desmond chose to listen to Minerva instead of Juno, and in-universe with the Hunger Games trilogy. This story will chronicle the latest of Desmond's bloodline, and his conflict with the Panem government, run by the Templar remnants. Familiar characters will be revealed on both sides, but which ones?
Review to let me know what you think so far!