A/N take that randomly disappearing summary, that'll teach you to vanish on me.
Yeah, as you're probably aware I had a few problems on this chapter, for a full list of them you can check my profile page. In any case, I got the chapter done eventually, I'm so proud.
So in answer to twisteddeal, there are Templars and Assassin's. The Animus is in this, though not for its usual part, Desmond does have genetic memory… and normal memory, Eagle vision will appear, most definitely, because it's such a fun concept to write, the pieces of Eden are set to appear, but not for a few more chapters, I think that's everything, so here is the chapter.
Are we the generation (that we've been waiting for)
Desmond blinks sleep from his eyes and sits up as has become routine he changes into the clothes on the end of his bed and begins stretching. He yawns and rubs sleep out of his eyes just as Lucy enters with something he can only describe as an advanced iPad. He had tried earlier to leave before Lucy came but the door had remained stubbornly closed.
He ate quickly and asked what was happening today.
"We're going to give you some mods. Just the basic ones at the moment to see how your body reacts to them" She says while glancing at the clipboard in her hands. He questions why his body would react strangely and is informed that the procedures leading up to his resurrection may have affected his body's ability to receive mods. He nods even though some of what she told him fly's over his head.
He's fairly certain she made some of the words up.
The wall of his room opens up they step through into a hall and it slides back together seamlessly. He considers spending a moment looking for cracks on the wall but decides against it when he sees the look Lucy's giving him. The walk down the hall and enter another room. This one is almost featureless the only things in it are a group of computers and an odd machine.
The top is curved, cold metal, the very center lined with glass. Several rings sit in the glass, the edges giving of a faint luminescence. One end has a small semi-circle sitting out of it and it too is lined with glowing circles that jut out slightly in a way he imagines can't be comfortable.
The door opens again and two people enter. The one of the right is a girl and has short black hair and a pair of headphones on her head, she's grinning. The one on the left is male and has orange hair spiked to a point and glasses on his face. They're both dressed in lab coats.
"Oh is this Seventeen?" The girl questions and Desmond can't help but flinch.
"Yeah, this is Desmond Miles" Lucy informs them, before going over to fiddle with the machine.
"Right, well, Shaun Hastings" the man says, pointing to himself, then to the girl "Rebecca Crane"
"Uhh, Nice to meet you?" Desmond offers, and it's almost a question.
"I'm sure, now If you don't mind, I have work to do" Shaun turns around and stalks off to one of the monitors.
Desmond blinks, had he done something to upset him or…
"Don't mind Shaun, he's a dick to everyone" Rebecca explains, joining Lucy.
Desmond glances around, unsure of what to do. In the end he decides to simply stand there until they need him for something.
He doesn't have to wait long.
"Alright Desmond, just lie down on the Animus" Lucy says, not looking up from her screen.
His eyes settle on the only thing in the room that she could possibly be referring to.
He walks over to the machine and climbs onto it. Lucy nods to him and he lays down, his head resting against the semi-circle.
He was right, it is uncomfortable.
"This may hurt a bit" Lucy tells him. Desmond glances over at her, with speed to rival a cheater.
"How much?" He responds, and no he is not whining.
Shaun apparently disagrees, if the barley hidden laugh is anything to go by.
"More than an ant bite" Is Rebecca's contribution.
Desmond considers.
"What if I'm allergic to ants?" he questions. Lucy just shakes her head and tells him to deal with it.
"Ready?" Shaun asks, sounding like he doesn't care either way. He probably doesn't but it would be nice if he tried at least.
In any case he doesn't get a chance to respond because Lucy's already started the machine. Animus, wasn't it?
His ears pick up the sound of a faint motor and the Animus lights up.
He wonders how the Animus works. From what Lucy has told him, he needs to receive at least one external mod and wouldn't his clothes get in the way of that?
He decides it doesn't really matter; they aren't his clothes, after all.
The whirring of motors picks up slightly and something slams into his back. The circular rings that lined the Animus begin working into his flesh.
Desmond gives a small yelp of pain, he's fairly certain it can be forgiven under the circumstances.
"What are you, a tiny child?" apparently it cannot, at least as far as Shaun's concerned.
"Well, technically speaking, this is a new body and it's only been alive for a few days" He responds. Trying to ignore the feeling of his skin being knitted together around the metallic shapes in his back.
Shaun gives him a look of utter contempt, Desmond ignores, it in favour of distracting himself from whatever it is the Animus is doing.
Eventually it stops and Desmond gives a barely audible sigh of relief.
"That wasn't so bad" He confesses.
"Good, because we've only just begun" Lucy admits, not even looking up from her screen to acknowledge him.
He groans into his now mostly destroyed jacket and prepares himself for more mods.
They finish a few hours later and Desmond almost collapses from tiredness.
Lucy helps him to his room, still the same place they've been monitoring him in.
He would've protested if he wasn't so tired.
Once more he's asleep within moments of hitting the covers.
In another time and place gold eyes fly open and Desmond is lost to the world.
The curtains are open and the stage is bare, ready for another performance. One by Altair Ibn La Ahad, master assassin.
It begins with movement. Quick feet pounding in a patterned rhythm.
Three men, each covered by robes and cowls. Hidden despite the stark contrast of their outfits.
A decision, the death of an innocent. No explanation is given and life drains away.
No remorse, no regret.
The two face him, words of anger flying from one's mouth.
He has broken one of the tenets of the creed, even if he refuses to admit it.
Stay your blade from the flesh of the innocent.
He does not respond and they continue.
He sees the enemy, watches with gold eyes and announces himself.
Here he has broken another.
Hide in plain sight.
It is a joke to them and a mistake for him.
He in haste attacks the enemy and the other two are forced to join him.
He does not succeed and is forced away from the two.
He listens and hears sounds of battle, but not of triumph from his comrades.
Greif bubbles in him briefly but he squashes it, such feelings will not help him at this juncture.
He leaves.
The third tenet broken as he arrives at his home, Maysyaf.
Do not compromise the brotherhood.
And there his Master lays it all out in front of him, the flaws, and the failures.
He does not listen; he was justified, even though he can bring no explanation.
In the end he is not given the chance.
One of the two he thought dead arrives. Malik, and yet Kadar has perished.
He once more forces down the guilt as Malik informs them of the crusaders attack.
His Master sends him off and he locates another Assassin. This one is quick to inform him of the plan.
He understands and takes his place like the others.
His Master demands it and he does as asked. Jumping without question.
The hay softens the blow and he feels no worse for wear, the Assassin furthest from him, however, has injured himself.
The second stays to tend to the injured and he heads off to complete the plan.
He does as he was told and they are rewarded with the retreat of the enemy.
He is not to be rewarded, he has risked too much.
This is what his Master tells him, even as he protests.
Once more his Master lays the failures in front of him.
And once more he refuses to see.
The blade is buried in his stomach. Life leaving him through the wound.
Darkness peppers his gold eyes.
Death takes him.
Black curtains folding shut over the scene.
The end of act one.
A pause and then an abrupt opening of the curtains reveals act two.
Desmond's eyes flash open.
Panic and a distant pain.
He swallows in an effort to calm himself, even as he hyperventilates.
Eventually he's slowed his racing heart enough to think straight.
"What the fuck?"
A/N I wasn't going to end it there, but it was two good an ending to pass up.
Also I'm curious how everyone feels about the Stage/play metaphor I had. I'm not entirely sure how it happened, but hey, I'll take what I'm given.