Chapter Text
May 15 2013: 1:16 am - Altair II
Desmond walked up the footbridge to the ship alongside his mother. Ahead, Shaun and Rebecca looked back at him with sympathetic smiles, happy to have seen him reunite with his mother. They knew he needed this. Especially after all the loss he suffered through. They've watched Desmond go through so much in the past year. So it was nice to see him recover something he'd cherish.
“You've grown.” Desmond’s mother said as they entered the deck of the ship. Understatement of the century, he thought. Back in the Farm, Desmond was a scrawny, skinny kid. A decade later, and Desmond stood at 6’0 tall, muscles toned and visible through the outline of his outfit. This was no child anymore, but an Assassin.
“Thank our ancestors for that.” Desmond's mother chuckled. Before dawning on a sadder look. She would rather not ask this, especially now. But it had been months of silence since she got the news. “Your father. How did he… what did he say before his…”
Desmond quickly stopped his mother from continuing. He could tell just from their initial meeting and her tone that she wasn't taking the news well. “It was quick. A couple seconds.” Although it wasn't much, he thought it best to say he died without pain. Even if the opposite was true. He still remembered his fathers screams as the device burned his arm to a crisp. “He told me to tell you he was sorry he couldn't make it back.” Desmond's mother let out a choked cry, swallowing the grief to try and not interrupt. “Well… I'm just happy you're here…”
By now, Desmond and his mother were talking amongst themselves on the entrance to the ship's interior. Shaun and Rebecca had left to give Desmond his privacy, except Gavin, who stood at the side and waited patiently.
“Reika, I'm sorry to interrupt. But I need to borrow Desmond for a bit.” She nodded, albeit sadly at their reunion being cut short. Desmond’s mother walked off to the ship's interior, but spoke to Desmond one last time before leaving his sight. “Once you're done, meet me by the cabins.” and with that, she left.
“I hate to bring this up, but do you have it?” Gavin spoke, cautiously, silently. He had an idea about how sensitive this topic was, especially with the history the man standing in front of him had gone through because of it.
Knowing what he was referring to and eager to get it off his hands, Desmond took off his sling bag. Inside, he grabbed the apple of eden. “If it were up to me, I'd have it thrown in the ocean.”
Desmond coldly stated, his eyes staring ice-cold at Gavin, reflecting past traumas. The apple responded with a laugh that sent an irritating itch in his head. Gavin seemed totally unaffected. It was times like these where he wished his precursor genes didn't come with its drawbacks. At this point however, Desmond was getting used to it. Somewhat.
“I know, I do too. But… These are desperate times.” Gavin tried to reassure. However his hands were tied. This was their only leverage against the Templar’s in what's probably been decades. Desmond let out a frustrated sigh.
“I'm not going to argue, but I've seen what that thing does to desperate people.” Desmond warned. He also thought back to the moment he found the apple in Rome. Juno took over her body, his mind ached and his skin felt inhabited by another, forcing him to kill someone who he'd began to develop feelings for.
“Which is why we're leaving it sealed somewhere only a select few will know. It's best to keep it out of the Templars' hands, and this will only be used as a last resort.”
Setting aside his feelings, this course of action did seem logical and reasonable considering the circumstances. But considering all that he'd seen, he just knew they'd be better off if no one would hold power over the apple, not even the Brotherhood. With a mix of desperation to be rid of the artefact, and concern as to the consequences of leaving it, he gave up the apple, passing it to Gavin. However, there was another matter they needed to tend to.
Desmond leaned back, crossing his arms. “What's our next steps? Juno’s out there, I remember Shaun gave you the details.” He had been aching to discuss this. If whatever Juno was planning had her other fellow first civies think that letting world burn rather then freeing her was a logical course of action, they were really in for it.
“Our numbers are scattered, I've been considering re-establishing contact with some of the brotherhoods we have left in Osaka, Moscow, and Sao Paolo.” Desmond recalled from the emails back in Monteriggioni that there were only about four major Brotherhoods left around the world situated in four cities, each at some country. Denver, US. Osaka, Japan. Moscow, Russia. Sao Paolo, Brazil. They also had some minor scattered cells in other countries, but usually only consisted of about a handful of people.
“Re-establishing contact? Last I heard, the Sao Paolo Brotherhood flushed out their mole. And contact was kept secure with the other two brotherhoods.” Gavin gave a grim look at Desmond. It was a reminder that they had spent the past 5 months underground. They had quite a lot to catch up on.
“All of them went dark, like Denver.” Desmond's heart stood still. There was a brief silence between them, but Desmond picked the conversation back up. “What's our next steps.”
Gavin brought a hand to his chin, brushing his slightly grey beard. “Well, now that you're here, you'll be helping in re-establishing contact.”
“If the other remaining Assassins there are still alive, I want you to see to it that they're brought back safely. You might be our most qualified man for the job.” Desmond had an idea come forward. He recalled the American Brotherhood that had gone silent in Denver since Monteriggioni. He heard HQ investigated to find it abandoned, but here he had a chance to confirm what the others had feared, or rescue any who were still alive. Even if captured.
“Did you go back to Denver, confirm if they were captured or killed?” Gavin had a look of unease. “No. We didn't have the resources to conduct a thorough search.” Desmond grew hopeful. If he could, he'd prefer to start there. Not only to possibly rescue anyone he could, but to also investigate on his own. It was the American branch of Abstergo Industries that took his father's body after all.
“Then I'd like to start there.” Gavin was taken aback, as it was logical to assume that all the Assassins were either dead or captured in Denver. And it wouldn't be wise to spend their resources going after a team that had fell silent for months. “Why? Why not Osaka, or anywhere else? Their reports happened more recently.”
“Which is exactly why I think you and this ship should head there. You have better odds there. And you never verified what happened in Denver.” Gavin took a moment to think. Desmond’s logic was sound. He was true that there was still a possibility the Assassins had held out. And if Desmond were to go, maybe with another man or two alongside, they'd have enough resources to investigate the rest. However, he had a suspicion that Desmond had ulterior motives.
“Is this about your father?” Desmond stood still. He had to consider his next words carefully, as it wasn't wise to lie to the newly appointed mentor. Ultimately, he had aimed to find his father's body and put an end to whatever it was the Templars were using him for. He already had some suspicions as to what Abstergo hoped to gain. None of it good. He decided to tell the truth.
“Yes.”
Gavin gave a look of understanding. Although, knowing his true motives, he was unsure if Desmond would be able to focus on his mission without distraction. Normally, he'd reject something like this, as any other mentor in his position would.
“Okay. I'll give you leave to investigate. We'll drop you off by Texas in a week. Meanwhile, I suggest you relax here. There's a lot here I think you'll find interesting.” Gavin brought his arm to Desmond, dropping the role of mentor for just a short moment to allow him to talk to Desmond as a friend to the family.
“And Desmond. I'm sorry about your dad. Him and I go way back. I know he didn't show it, but he cared for you. Deeply.” Desmond flashed a brief smile. “Thanks. I know that now, but I just wish I had more time with him after knowing it.”
Gavin turned to his watch before turning to his phone to respond to a notification. Clearly, he had more matters to attend to. “I'd love to continue talking; introduce you to the crew, but it's late. And you've been on the road for months. You should get some sleep. Cabins are on the lowest floor.”
Desmond hummed, remembering that his mother wished to talk more there. And now that he mentioned it, sleep would probably do some good. Now that he was somewhere secure. Among others, among other Assassins.
“Safety and peace.”
“And to you as well.”
Desmond walked past, Gavin remained out on the starboard for some time, overlooking the Van being brought in. As Desmond walked through the ship, he felt a comforting sense of familiarity. The feel of the ship rocking against the sea, the smell of seawater in the air, the distant moonlight reflecting off the ocean. It all felt familiar to him. Of course, Connor experienced these same things on board the Aquila. Desmond assumed that was it.
For a brief moment, his vision blurred, and a flash of a distant memory appeared. It was brief, too quick to make out. It was the ocean. Several colonial era ships sailing about. Although… they looked different from the ones Connor saw. The flags were a bit off, and the lands bore no resemblance to the north-east coast.
Desmond made his way through the ship, finding the staircase inside that led him to the cabins. The whole floor was an open space, multiple doors on every wall, the space forming some sort of commons room for the people here. In front of one door, Desmond saw his mother waiting.
“Hope I didn't keep you waiting, mom.” Desmond's mother smiled warmly upon seeing Desmond. “It's fine. Duty calls.”
“I've seen the tapes.” Desmond assumed his mother meant the animus tapes. Rebecca mentioned passing his animus recordings down to other Assassin cells for analysis and inspiration. “Yeah? Well, what did you think?”
“I'm proud. Years after the purge, and we've barely put any damage on Abstergo. Then you just waltz right into one of their facilities, take out two inner sanctum members and entire squads of agents. Then you walked out. With your father by your side and a piece of eden on hand.” Reika reminisced on how proud she felt watching her son tear those Templars a new one.
Desmond… didn't expect that. He was instantly reminded that Rebecca not only monitored all his missions by drone, but also made recordings. “Heh. I almost forgot about those. Being the animus for so long…”
Desmond's mother had a peculiar look, remembering his time under the coma. “But… mom, how many people saw those anyway?”
Reika had realised that her son didn't know just how popular he'd gotten in the brotherhood. She assumed he had some idea but given the sheer amount Desmond went through in just these past few months, it seemed logical that he hadn't caught on.
“Oh well… everybody.” Desmond paused. Thinking he misheard. “Huh?” I'm sorry, everyone? Everyone in the brotherhood saw my missions? Jesus… Well, at least I don't have to worry about introductions.
Reika laughed, interrupting Desmond’s thoughts. “You might even have a little fanclub.” Desmond winced at hearing this. “Lots of fangirls.” Oh no. Mom. Don't you dare. “Better hurry up and continue our bloodline, Desmond.”
Desmond’s face turned red, and he brought a hand to cover his eyes in shame. “M-Mom! Don't even…” This is not what he thought his long anticipated reunion would look like. Despite the teasing however, it was nice. He felt at peace here. Safe, while among family and allies. Secure. It's the exact opposite he'd felt ever since he got kidnapped by Abstergo eight months ago.
“Come on, I'm an old woman. I want grandkids!” She leaned in closer with a shit-eating grin, “have your eyes on anyone? That Rebecca girl seems nice.” Desmond brought his hands down from his head, still bright-red. “Mom. It is not like that.” Sure, Rebecca was nice. Hell, after seeing Altair and Ezio's tastes in women, he understood the charm. But… just… no.
“Rebecca is just a friend. Besides… let's really not get into my love life today.” Desmond wanted to just get past this topic, as he didn't want to bring up Lucy. It was a hard topic and he didn't want to ruin the mood. “Hm. OK. But… I'm suspicious, son.” What? Why? Desmond thought, now being interrogated. “Just… you ran away to New York, went to parties everyday, worked at a bar. You did remember to use protection, right?”
Desmond screamed silently, gritting his teeth. “MOM!” The last thing Desmond wanted to talk about was exactly that. It wasn't a secret to most who knew him back then, but he was quite the… juggler? Eh, no. That's too Ezio. Desmond was between girlfriends often, he regretfully recalls. But could you blame him? Years spent in isolation, months of Assassin training, his mind being filled with teachings that bored him to death. When he'd finally seen the wider world and its… beauties, he was overwhelmed.
“Okay, okay. I'm sorry.” Francine relished in this. It was nice to see Desmond all riled up and blushing. He was still the same boy she knew despite all the wear and tear. Especially the wear and tear. Over these past months, Reika was worried that when they'd meet, she wouldn't recognise him. She'd heard of him going through decades worth of memories, the death of Lucy, and now William… but suffice to say, Desmond was still there.
Desmond deeply exhaled. “I missed you mom.” Desmond calmy spoke, slightly shy to admit it. With a yawn, Desmond realised just how exhausted he was. That's when he remembered. Cabins. Decent beds. Hot food. Actual showers. Proper training areas. He was standing on the Assassin headquarters. Every little luxury he couldn't take for the past months was within his grasp. And boy, he was really desperate to sleep on an actual bed. Sure, the motel was nice but there was still a missing sense of security.
Francine noticed how his son seemed rather droopy. The eyebags were pretty noticeable. “I miss you too, Desmond.” She had heard of what her son had gone through in just the past year. She dropped the cheeky tone she took, switching to something more sombre. “You've gone through so much, haven't you?”
Desmond leaned in for yet another hug, and his mother embraced him. “You have no idea…” Despite everything, at this moment while being held in his mother's arms, he felt like a kid again. As if nothing had changed. As if he were still on the Farm. Desmond remained there for a while, before noticing something from the corner of his eye. Towards the staircase, two familiar faces were watching him from afar.
Shaun? Rebecca? Are you kidding me?! I thought they'd be asleep by now! Okay, I still need to maintain some dignity. Upon seeing them, Desmond left his mother's embrace. “It was nice to see you again, mom. But… I'd like to get some rest now.”
Shit, he saw us!
Why did you think this was a good idea? He has the perception of three Master Assassins you idiot!
Desmond heard the whispers and tried to hide his growing smirk. His mother smiled at him, “I'll see you tomorrow then…” she made her way towards the staircase. She briefly turned back to Desmond, wishing him a good night, before fully leaving the room.
Desmond opened the door to his cabin. It was quite small, the bed and closet already taking up most of the space. The walls matched those throughout the whole ship; metallic, and dull. But these things didn't matter to him, as the ship itself had more than enough life.
Desmond unwrapped his sling bag, throwing it onto the bed. He was hoping to change into another outfit so he checked the closet for any extra clothes. Inside, there was a stack of neatly folded clothes. Out of the selection, he chose a grey t-shirt and black cotton shorts.
Desmond unfastened his hidden blade, putting it in a separate drawer. Then he took off his hoodie, jeans, and t-shirt to place in the closet along with his bag. His shoes came off, socks too, placing them on the floor by his bed. Desmond yawned, bringing a hand up to massage his barely opened eyes. Laying on the bed, he shifted around, getting the blanket over and finding a comfortable position. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.
May 15 2013: 11:00 am
Connor felt the familiar sounds of the sea battling against the Aquila's voyage. They were on a course for Nicholas Biddle's ship, the Randolph. The ship swayed as it ripped through the ocean's surface. Connor opened his eyes, feeling he was ready to face the coming battle, having taken all the rest he needed. Although, his surroundings seemed unfamiliar to him.
The room surrounding Connor did not appear to be his quarters. The room was of metal, not wood. His bed and appliances placed around seemed very foreign. Yet, there was a sense from the back of his mind that he knew all that stood before him. A moment of realisation came to him. Connor drew in a deep breath. “Not again…”
Desnor tried to center himself, lying back onto the bed. He took a brief moment to meditate and calm his inner mind, reminding himself that he was Desmond Miles, not Ratohnhaké:ton and that he wasn't on board the Aquila, but the Altair II. Altair II…
Looking at his outfit, Desmair found he was sporting the familiar robes of the Levantine Brotherhood. “Al’ama…” great, now the ship's name was a trigger for the bleeding effect. Just great…
Altmond tried to meditate again. The techniques he learnt from his ancestors were useful in dealing with stress and centering one’s mind. Time began to pass unnoticed, and Desmond slowly returned to his own mind. It was a miracle that Clay gave him the ability to better recognise when he was dissociating. Without it, he'd probably be stumbling around the ship, screaming in Arabic, Italian, or Mohawk.
Desmond massaged his eyebags, sliding his hands across his faces’ features. At least he managed to get some decent sleep at last.
Turning to the closet, Desmond opened it, reaching for his day clothes. His usual attire; blue jeans, black undershirt, and the classic white hood. However, there was something missing.
“What in the- where the hell-”
Desmond searched the closet deeper, checking drawers, thinking that perhaps he misplaced it in his exhaustion. Then, when that turned no results, Desmond relied on his sixth sense. His eagle vision pulsed and he saw the room in a new light. But again, they were nowhere to be found.
Great. Just great! First day back and I lost my wrist blade. Way to make a first impression…
Desmond slammed the drawer with force. Then, he went to his bag. Inside were his usual items; phone, wallet, notebook, earpiece, watch. “Wait… shit. Forgot to charge the phone.”
Desmond let out another frustrated breath. This was just getting better and better. And yet, there was something else that caught his eye. Emanating a strange white glow under his vision. A flat object. Looking like… paper?
Reaching into his bag, Desmond grabbed the note, unfolding it.
Meet us at the cafeteria when you awaken.
We will be waiting.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Desmond had almost forgotten that he was to have a proper introduction with all the other Assassins. There was no more time to waste, so he quickly tore off his bedwear, throwing it to the bed for him to deal with later. Within just short of a minute, Desmond had fully changed into his regular outfit. Another few seconds later and he'd put on his shoes, wrapping his bag around his shoulders. Within the next moment, Desmond had left, making his way to the staircase. Following the directions on the sign towards the cafeteria.
The door creaked open, but he was met with only darkness. The windows were sealed so that no light was to pass through. The room's lights were turned off on-top of that. This was not the sight he expected. Before assuming the worst, Desmond chose to switch to his eagle vision to better see in the dark room he had been called to. But before he could, they showed themselves.
The room had suddenly become slightly illuminated by what appeared to be a fire on the end of the room. This fire seemed to be surrounded in a controlled container - a furnace. Through the light, he could see many figures. All of them reflected blue to his senses. It was not foe that surrounded him, but allies. Other Assassins?
One of the slightly illuminated figures stepped forward, and his face was made clearer under his eyes. Gavin Banks stood ahead.
“Where other men blindly follow the truth, remember…”
As if it were instinct, Desmond responded without much thought. Now realising what it was he had been called to.
“Nothing is true.”
“Where other men are limited by morality or law, remember…”
Desmond responded once again instinctively.
“Everything is permitted.”
Gavin brought up his arms, gesturing to the rest of the crowd gathered.
“We work in the dark to serve the light. We are Assassins.”
In unison, every single person standing around him spoke in unison.
“Nothing is true, everything is permitted.”
Gavin approached Desmond, grabbing him by the shoulders.
“Desmond Miles. In these past months, you have walked the path of your ancestors. Experienced our creed. And with this knowledge, you have brought an end to the schemes of our enemies. Brought an end to the great catastrophe that plagued those who came before…”
In his mind, Desmond thought of his father. It was him who pushed the pedestal that saved the world. Not him. Hearing himself take the credit brought a warm desperate cry in his heart to refuse the credit, but he stifled these emotions. For Gavin was still right in a way. He was the cipher. It was him the precursors called to, and it was him who lived many lifetimes in the span of weeks in order to get what they needed.
“Added with the death of two high-ranking Templars by your hand, I deem it necessary to follow this course of action.”
Desmond caught movement from the furnace. There was someone handling a pincer. The tip of the pincer glowed a searing red as it left the flames, indicating it had laid there for some time. The figure holding the tool came closer, and Desmond saw his mother.
He raised his left hand, knowing what this entailed. The Brotherhood's permanent seal would be imprinted onto his ring finger, as Ezio and Connor had done in their respective initiations. And now, it was his time.
Reika brought the opened pincer. The Assassin's mark carved onto the tool. Hovering over Desmond's ring finger. In the next moment, he heard his flesh sear from the hot metal. Felt the moisture boil at the surface of his skin. The pain was excruciating, but he had grown familiar with such pain. As was the life of an Assassin.
After a few seconds, she opened the pincer, allowing Desmond to let go. His left hand was now marked. The brotherhood's insignia burned onto his ring finger.
Desmond looked up at his mother, seeing her bring up a warm smile. Two more figures came closer to him from the wider crowd. Their faces were made out to him. It was Shaun and Rebecca. They held a box in their arms each, which was passed onto him. Now, holding onto the boxes, Desmond placed them onto a small table next to him.
Gavin gestured him to open them. Whatever they were, they seemed to be of great importance. Taking off the covers of both, Desmond saw a bracer in each box. Both were Black, with red highlights. Wrist blades were attached to both. Two hidden blades… No… that would mean-
“Welcome to the brotherhood, Master Assassin.”
Desmond brought both bracers over his wrists, closing them shut. Desmond flexed both wrists, and the blades cut out into the air with great speed. Yet, there was something odd about the blade on his left hand. It felt different, yet familiar at the same time. Taking a closer look, he recognised a mechanism he was already experienced with. There was a black hilt for him to grab onto and a pivot point.
Grabbing the hilt on the left blade, the blade pivoted and turned to the palm of his hand. Just like Connor's. Desmond faced Gavin, and gave him a look of surprise.
“I was told of your combat preferences.”
Next to him, Shaun boastfully leaned closer to his ear, whispering.
“Beccs and I did that.”
Desmond flashed a sharp smile at Shaun and Rebecca before averting his gaze back to Gavin.
“So what now, mentor?”
A flash of light came on, and Desmond took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings. The lights to the cafeteria were now on, and he could see all the crew members on the ship. Other Assassins. Around the cafeteria, Desmond noticed that on most tables, there were various plates with metal cloche covers.
“Now? We celebrate!”