Hey all!
Wow! I'm really surprised, and amazed, at the attention this fic got!
I guess we're all looking for closure, huh?
As I mentioned to quite a few of you, sorry about the shortness, the previous chapter was a prologue. Here's where things start to get interesting :D
Read, review, and repeat!
Ubisoft owns the characters and the universe.
The predictions are mine :P
Awakening was hardly fitting for the experience he felt.
Warmth contrasted the cold emptiness. Gradual, infinitesimal. It grew. Time has no meaning to one who cannot fathom its definition, its purpose. And so he drifted, alone and blind along the river. Alone, but not abandoned.
The soldier waited, unaware of the factors slowly being aligned in his favour. The slight glimpses of a memory or two as the repair began served to mark his progress. His hands remained still, the occasional twitch flickered across them softly, as a malformed impulse struggled for birth. Slowly but surely, the waves returned, until eventually, crested with the opening of his eyes.
Whiteness in glaring saturation was all his infant senses could comprehend. His mouth opened in shock, as next the pain of disconnection surged through every nerve ending, as they awoke from their sleep. The familiar burn coursed through him, his breathing irregular and agonizing. His eyes rolled back, as he struggled against the hands that squeezed his heart. A cool presence rested in proximity to his forehead, not touching, but near. Near enough to effect him, and he ceased his struggle; darkness consumed once again.
He waited now, for the man of dreamless sleep to wake. His eyes absorbed the details of the man's internal functions with peaked concern. The machine embraced him for a time, until he was ready to wake. Ready to see again, and to feel; the gifts of all six senses restored unto him.
Desmond's eyes rolled forward, his lids slowly parting to take in the world around him. At first, blotches of unfamiliar colours muddled together, and his brow furrowed in confusion. His fingers flexed experimentally, and he slowly brought his hand to his face. The large mottled blotch slowly, gradually softened, and he saw his fingers; he followed the translucent tubes in his arms down to the rock-like surface they protruded from. He turned his gaze to the other hand, noticing that it too was plugged into the ground. Emotions that he still couldn't put into words expressed themselves as a grunt strained from his unused vocal chords, its strange sound echoed around off the stone and metal.
He stopped when he noticed that his head was cradled in some sort of apparatus. Turning it too far to the left or right proved to be discomforting, and unnerving, and so he stopped. It was almost as if his head was caught in some sort of gravitational field, and when it strayed to far from the axis, heaviness would weight on it, until he retuned it back.
He tried lifting his hand to investigate, however, the cords attached to his arms restricted his movement greatly. He waited, as it was his only option remaining. In the hours that passed, his faculties returned at an exponential rate– enough so, that after a while, he realized he was feeling something aside from pain and confusion.
Impatience.
What's going on? How long have I been here, yet seen nothing?
He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to still the thousands of questions screaming from behind his eyes.
She said it wouldn't hurt–
How the hell am I still alive? If you can call this alive– for all I know, this could be, shit, I dunno. Purgatory? Sure as hell isn't heaven.
He strained in his reclined position, realizing the ache between his shoulders from remaining in the same position for so long. He rolled them experimentally, and sighed in frustration at his circumstances.
Is it too much to ask for some answers?! Where the hell am I?!
"Hello?" his voice cracked and fell on the last syllable from underuse. The only reply that reached his ears was the echo of his own broken question.
He huffed, and closed his eyes.
Think– what could have happened? Juno said, er, Minerva said, that I freed her I'll be destroyed, "You'll be destroyed."
Did she mean humanity? Or me?
A small flicker of light cast over Desmond's body, and he turned to face it.
"Who –"
"You must have many questions for me, Desmond, and in time, all shall be revealed." The figure approached him, towering down over Desmond with a placid smile, "I am known by many names, such as those of my kind. Mulciber. Vulcan. Hephaestus– one in the same."
Desmond's face contorted as a flurry of questions stirred simultaneously.
Hephaestus raised his hand, "Now is not the time, Desmond. Wait, only wait, and all will be revealed to you."
"I've heard that one before– you actually expected me to stand for this? Fuck yo–"
"Listen to me, you need to repair. Your body has been weakened, but I am making it new. Whole. I have restored to you what was taken. Your birthright."
Desmond opened his mouth to protest, but felt his eyelids close against their volition.
"Rest now."
William sat in silence as the van sped along the country highway. The occasional bump in the road the only feeling left in him. In his hands he held the Apple of Eden, his only tangible item he had to hold in remembrance. He glanced out of the van's window, eyes only met with the bleak light of the early hour. The team travelled the next few minutes in reflective silence, both out of grievance and of respect to his sacrifice.
"So, what the hell do we do now?"
"I don't really know Rebecca." William turned the Apple's smooth surface in his hands as he thought, "Perhaps the best bet would be to regroup with some of the others. We have bigger problems than the Templars for the time being."
Shaun nodded, "Yeah, now instead we have a revenge-bent deity walking the earth, ready to do, well, you know, whatever it is that she wants. That's worse– much worse if you ask me."
"What do you mean by that Shaun?" The coldness in her eyes still remained as he tried to explain himself.
"I wasn't talking about his choice– I mean compared to Juno, the Templars are a walk in the bloody park."
William scoffed.
"Well, at least we know they're human, and uh, bound to the same physics as the rest of us."
"You think too much Shaun. Shouldn't you be focussing on the road anyway?"
"I can multitask, Rebecca. I'm not that primitive."
"Shaun, Rebecca, please. Let's not start this again."
"Yeah… sorry, I guess we're all a little–"
"On edge?"
"Yeah."
"So, where exactly is Gavin, Bill?"
"He's here– but we're not going to him. Actually, it's time we had a little help."
"I need a destination Bill, I can't just bloody drive around all d–"
"Kingston."
Shaun froze for a moment, a knowing glint in his eyes, "Oh…." He murmured. "I've been dreaming of this, to think, we actually get to see it."
"Waiting for what– see what? Shaun, tell me you asshole!"
"Hey, watch the language there. I'm still in shock you know."
She rolled her eyes.
"Just try to get some sleep. We'll be there soon enough."
With an exasperated huff she sank deeper into her chair, and pulled her headphones over her ears. The lull of sleep came easy to her weary mind as the van hurried along the empty road.
The disconcerting sensation of free fall jolted Desmond awake. He lurched upward, only stopping when he felt his head being tugged back by that infuriating and confusing sensation.
"Hey– anyone?" his eyes scanned around the cold stone and metal of the Grand Temple, searching for the figure he had seen before. He felt an unfamiliar tingle in his arms, and he looked down, dumbstruck at the rippling glow of light that travelled up them just beneath the skin.
That's new…
"Desmond– you have awoken. This is a good sign."
He whipped his head up from examining his arm, regarding the man with suspicion and anger, "Are you here to answer my questions, or just fuck with me some more?"
The man's mouth wavered slightly, "What vibrance lives in you. Something I have not been a witness to for some time. It is… refreshing."
"Fan-fucking-tastic, now, do I get some answers, or not?"
Hephaestus spread his arms in an inviting gesture, "Ask, and it shall be revealed."
Desmond sighed, now that he could, the questions that had been stirring in him, had become fragmented. He took a moment to come up with some semblance of a succinct question, "I, uh… first things first, am I … dead?"
"No. Ask if you were dead, and my answer would be different."
"How the hell is this even possible?"
Hephaestus smiled, "I was hoping you would ask that."
He extended his hand, and it hovered over Desmond's forehead. Once again, the cool sensation returned, and the world around him faded from view. Instead Desmond found himself looking upon his crumpled form as Juno walked over it; free. He sat, silent, as his body remained still, the few tendrils of steam still lingered around his arms. Then he saw a flicker of light behind the pedestal. Hephaestus.
His voice echoed between Desmond's ears.
I waited, watched. I was there as was she. Until she left. I too had watched your journey, Desmond, and realized there was more than I could have fathomed at stake. I lingered in the shadows as she laid the final pieces in place. Refusing to rest, to sleep until you came. . As she watched you across time, I laboured in the darkness. Building, creating, destroying her plans as she laid them out. I had seen the things that were to pass, and I knew what I was tasked with. When you did, your birth brought that same glint to her eyes. I knew something must be done.
I created them to help me. Sentient labourers of unyielding skin, and absence of flesh. They toiled for millennia until it was finished. Then, I began my own task. As I had seen what Juno would attempt, I had the foresight to create a solution, based entirely off of this knowledge. When you delivered the spark, you also set my plan in motion. Instead of destruction, rebirth followed. Did you not notice the pain? The burn? This was my doing. Not to harm, but to help. Delivering your consciousness into the machine is not a painless operation. I would know.
Now you swam, perhaps forever had it not been for my intervention, in an endless pool of energy. This Temple holds many solutions. Many possibilities for a future's birth. I had the wisdom of several thousand years' trial and error to guide my hands, as I rejoined you. Made you new. Your, primitive device– the Animus– could be said to have aided my progress. Your mind is malleable, yielding yet firm, unlike the brittle fragility of your kind. Perhaps it is because the machine and you are compatible– seasoned over periods of exposure. Perhaps it is instead your very genetics that fertilized my plan.
Now you sit before me, restored; reborn with the gifts I myself hold. In an infant state, true, but you have the potential to face her on equal footing.
The Soldier. The Contingency.
A/N Alright, If you are unfamiliar with Hephaestus' story from Mythology, I strongly urge you to read up on it. There are some interesting ties to the other TWCB, ie: Juno, aka Hera was the mother of Hepaestus, and Zeus, aka Tinia, was the father, etc. I'm taking the time to ground this fic in fact as much as possible– taking snippets from the game itself, and actual mythology/history, ie: Hepaestus ACTUALLY was said to have built robot workers, just like those hinted at in the game. Extra points if anyone can figure out where the team is heading. Seriously though, put some thought into where they have their headquarters, and see if you can guess the building!
Stay lovely,
juno57