𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝘈𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯'𝘴 𝘊𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 |

15 | 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝

It's been thirty minutes since he's been hooked up to the Animus, memories from a new ancestor coming to life on Crane's computer. His vitals start to disappear from the monitor as he wakes up, the young male wiping tiredness from his eyes.

"You all saw that, right? The key must be the amulet Haytham took from London." He says as he sits, his brain probably still foggy from the events.

His father stands behind him with his arms crossed, an annoyed look on his features.

"We might know what it looks like, but we're no closer to finding it Desmond, you need to keep going." His son exhales loudly while hopping down from the Animus, turning angrily towards his father.

"Hey, he's your ancestor too. Why don't you hop in the Animus?." He bites back, disdain on his voice. I cock my head at their bickering.

Miles' face darkens as he flails his hands while speaking to his son in a condescending tone.

"That's your response? It's like dealing with a six year old. What is wrong with you, Desmond?." The older man rounds the Animus and gets close to Desmond, the latter getting in his face as the others watch.

"You want to know what's wrong? I'm sick of being treated like I'm not even here! Desmond do this. Desmond do that. Desmond you better figure things out because the sun is going to turn us all to ash—." Desmonds anger rises by the second as well as his father's, prompting me to circle the older man from behind.

"—And I know I was really nice to you but actually I'm just another Templar plot-twist, and yes, I would like very much for you to be controlled by a magic space wizard so that you can murder me. So there's your answer. I'm sick of being a goddamn pawn. I thought it might be different with you. I mean you're my father but turns out that you're no better than the fucking Templars!." Miles throws his arm back quickly, but I am quicker.

I hook my right arm on his throat, startling him and prompting him to fall back a bit, giving me the advantage to kick his legs, get him on his knees and apply necessary pressure. I bring my left arm up and quickly flick my wrist back, unsheathing the hidden blade and placing the edge over his neck, the room becoming still.

"Do it, malàka. One inch on Desmond's skin will be the equivalent of your whole body!." I see how my own arms glow at my anger, the older man grasping the arm around his throat.

"You wear a weapon sacred for the Assassins, yet you can't stay your blade from the innocent? Double moral." He spits in anger as I bring the blade closer.

"This wouldn't be the first time such oath has been broken. Care to find out how?." I squeeze harder, only to be grabbed by a pair of hands from my shoulders.

I let go of him at the insistence of the person behind me, the older man gasping for air and placing a finger on his throat, where a small drop of blood runs down, the blade nicking him enough.

"Riiight. That was unusual. Well I'm just going to pretend that this never happened and get back to bringing everyone up to speed on where we stand." Hastings explains to Desmond—who was quiet during the whole ordeal—the news of the rest of the keys.

Crane beckons me over and I obey, the anger within me not subsiding. She hands me a bottle of water with a smile, I can't look her in the eyes as I accept and drink from it. Suddenly everyone disperses, Hastings over to the hologram wall, Miles over to a corner while cleaning his throat, and Desmond.. to the Animus.

I hear him exhale, sadness and tiredness evident.

"You've been with us for a while, but I can see you care for him. He'll be alright, Dee." Crane's soft voice graces my ringing ears, her hand on my bicep and a nervous smile on her features.

I look at her and unsheathe the blade again, the mark of blood already drying. I shake my head and place the weapon back in its place.

"By the end of this he won't, Rebecca." Her eyebrows shoot up as I call her by her name, this one momentarily slipping by accident. But as soon as my words register, worry coats her young features.

The only comfort I have is that by the end of this, Desmond will not be used anymore.