Chapter 1

Desmond rose from his makeshift bed with a grimace. A new day was beginning, but the motivation wasn't there. He definitely had no desire to return to the Animus. The brunet knew it was important, that the others were counting on him, that no one else could do it. But shit... He wished someone had asked his opinion. Even just on principle. With a sigh, Desmond headed for a room set aside as a dining room. Monteriggioni's underground passages were anything but designed for people to move in... but at least they were safe. Well... for now. Shaking his head to clear his depressing thoughts, Desmond joined Shaun, who was having his own coffee. Shaun raised an eyebrow at his arrival.

- Well, the princess finally deigns to join the lower classes? How much longer were you planning to sleep?

- It's not that late, defended Desmond.

- Not so late? I don't know if in your wondeworld the time runs differently, but here it's already past 10 o'clock, said the British man sarcastically.

Desmond glared at him. He really didn't need this this morning. True, he was late. He hadn't managed to get out of bed. Deciding that between breakfast with Shaun's sarcasm or no breakfast at all, he'd rather go to the girls on an empty stomach. So the brunet headed for the mausoleum, leaving the redhead, satisfied with himself, behind. This guy could really be exasperating sometimes... no, actually, almost all the time...

Rebecca greeted him with a big smile, rising from behind her screen.

- Desmond! We've been waiting for you! How are you feeling this morning? she said with her usual energy.

- I'm fine, thanks. Sorry I'm late, he replied.

- No worries, replied Lucy from her improvised office. It's true that we're running out of time, but collapsing from exhaustion won't make us move faster.

Desmond smiled, Her words making him feel better. Perhaps this day wouldn't be as bad as he'd thought. He walked over to the Animus and made himself as comfortable as possible. In the end, he felt he'd spent more time in the Animus than outside. He grimaced at the thought. His real life had never really existed; he hadn't even had time to fall in love, to find someone. Just enough time to realize that his interests lay more with men. But Abstergo had got their hands on him and once again he lost control of his life.

- We're all set. Desmond? called Rebecca.

- Ready.

The world blurred and he was thrown back into the Animus. He felt someone shake his shoulder, and opened his eyes to meet Leonardo's smiling face.

- You shouldn't sleep here, Ezio, said Leonardo, laughing. You'll catch a cold.

Ezio sat up, still groggy from sleep. Seems like he'd dozed off on Leonardo's workbench while Leonardo deciphered one of the pages of the codex.

- Haa, sorry Leonardo.

- Don't worry, smiled his friend. But more importantly, didn't you have a date tonight?

- Mio Dio?! What time is it?

- The sun's just setting.

- Sorry, my friend, I've got to run.

And in a swirl of cape, followed by the artist's laughter, Ezio dashed off into the city of Venice. Desmond watched through his ancestor's eyes. All was going well when suddenly a great shock sent his body rolling to the ground. Desmond had just enough time to look up and see Ezio running over the rooftops of Venice, unfazed. Him, he had stayed behind. Saying the brunet was stupefied was an understatment, he was flabergasted. Here he was, in his own body in the middle of the Italian Renaissance city.

- Rebecca, what's going on? he called, slightly panicked.

He received no answer despite his repeated calls. He tried to stand up, but the landscape began to spin and blur. On all fours, Desmond felt terrible. The outlines of the roof he was standing on began to blur. In the space of a few seconds, he found himself in the Animus' loading chamber. The codes were flashing furiously red and a shrill whistling sound was ringing in his ears. Fuck! What the hell was going on? The landscape began to change again and he found himself back on a rooftop. Desmond felt extremely ill and took a few minutes to regain his senses. The intense heat wasn't helping.

Huh? Wait... why is it so hot in Venice? Desmond raised his head to look around and his face lost all color. He'd spent enough time roaming its streets and rooftops to recognize the Jerusalem of 1200.

- R... Rebecca tell me you can hear me... whimpered the dark-haired man.

Nothing... he was there, in the middle of Jerusalem, in his own body, like an idiot... it wasn't possible... it must have been a glitch in the animus! He was there without really being there!

- Hey you there! Come down now!

The man's voice startled him. Haha, how stupid he was, the guy couldn't see him. After all, he wasn't really there. Even so, Desmond turned his head towards the guard to see who his target was. And to his great surprise, the guard was looking straight at him.

- I said get off! You deaf?

The man bent his bow in his direction. It was clear, not only could the guy see him, but he was about to shoot an arrow between his eyes if he didn't move.

- Oh fuck! swore Desmond.

He leapt to his feet and fled from the roof down to the street. As he landed softly, he put on his hood to hide his face and blend in as much as possible with the teeming mass. Realization finally hit him as he pushed his way through the crowd. Not only could people see him, they could also touch him. He was in deep shit...