Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad, Syrian Master Assassin in the 1100s. Ezio Auditore da Firenze, Italian Master Assassin in the 1400s. Edward Kenway, pirate turned Assassin in the early 1700s. Ratonhnhaké:ton, Native American Assassin in the colonies in the late 1700s. The men listed are the ancestors of Desmond Miles, American Assassin in present day. Some were leaders of the Assassin Brotherhood, one stole his Assassin title, and one became an Assassin to beat his Templar father. This family line is the most important family line in the world’s history because at its end was Desmond Miles. He was to save the world and he did. He saved the world from solar flares by giving up the most precious thing to him: his life flame. Inevitably, his sacrifice allowed Juno, or also known as Uni, to escape from her captivity of being a hologram/ghost and his life flame created her First Civilization body again. She is now free to get what she wants: the world. We thought Desmond, the only person who could stop her, was dead. We were wrong.
On the floor of First Civilization temple, Desmond laid. His body had laid there since he had given up his Flame. The motionless body suddenly took a breath. It took a few moments, but eventually, his consciousness returned. Desmond felt very numb, like every nerve in his body had been fried to the point where he couldn’t feel anything. He focused on his hands first. He waited until every nerve was awake again. He then focused on his eyes and eyelids. It took a lot of the strength he had to wake up his nerves. Slowly, he was able to blink, but his eyes feeling like they were burning. Taking some more time, he just stared at the high ceiling, waiting until his eyes adjusted to the darkness and stopped burning. His entire body still felt numb and weak. When the feeling in his legs returned, he sat up very slowly. When he did, his head ached and the room spun before his eyes. Desmond rubbed his eyes to clear them. When the room stopped spinning, he looked around. Things had started to change in the First Civilization room he was sitting in. There were vines growing into the room, cracks in the floor, and tracings of animals. He panicked slightly, seeing the animal tracings. He checked over his numb body and found no wounds. He gave a sigh of relief before remembering the reason he was here. I have given up my flame, why am I still here? He thought silently. He stood up, slowly. His legs were a little shaky, but eventually that stopped and he was able to stretch out his stiff muscles. He glanced back at the orb he had used to give up his flame. It had stopped glowing blue and was now dull.
Desmond walked out of the huge room and into the lobby type area. The Animus was gone. The Animus. A machine to look into one’s DNA to see their ancestors’ pasts. Desmond had thought when he would think of an Animus. He figured that Rebecca Crane, Shaun Hastings, and William Miles had taken it with them. He thought of his two friends and felt bitter when he thought of his father, William. The place was dark, as if all the energy in the First Civilization temple had left. Walking down the steps, he was able to spy the hallway through the darkness. He took long strides as he went down the hallway. He came to the exit and climbed the soil wall he had slid down to enter. When he stepped outside of the cave entrance, he noted that it was morning. He blinked his eyes some to readjust to the light. The grass had grown greatly since he had last left and the road they had to get there was gone.
Desmond walked around a while before noticing something in the tall grass. He walked towards what he saw and knelt down on one knee before realizing what they were: footprints. Desmond recognized them, but these footprints were strange. It looked like they were burned into the grass. He stood up and followed them. As he went on, they became less burned looking and more human-like. After a long while of following them, they stopped. Desmond glanced around the spot where they stopped and found nothing of particular interest. He decided that it was time to find people.
Desmond pulled up his jacket hood, put his hands in his pockets and started walking. When he got hungry, he found an apple tree and a few berry bushes. He sat down under the tree and took a bite of the apple while fingering the berries. He wondered how long he had been in that temple. Things were different when he had awakened, much different. After eating the berries and apple, he got up to start walking again. As the day went on, the sun got brighter, seeming to bare down on him. Even as bright as it was at that time, Desmond noticed a haze covering the forest. What could cause a haze that actually survives the sun’s rays? He thought to himself.
The day eventually turned into evening. Desmond decided that it was time to camp. He found a small cave in the base of a big rock. He walked around, looking for firewood and when he had gathered it, he put it under the rock in the small cave. He rubbed sticks together to create a small flame. He leaned down and blew into it, causing the rest to catch. He then went out into the forest. He climbed the trees and ran along the branches, like his ancestor Ratonhnhaké:ton did. His Native American ancestor was also known as Connor. Connor had been the adopted name when he had entered the American colonies. Desmond hunted animals with his hidden blades and was able to get some venison. He dragged the deer back to his camp. He took off his white jacket while he skinned the deer. He took the meat and put it on a long stick before hanging it over the fire to cook. While the food was cooking, Desmond dragged the carcass back out into the woods, leaving it a good distance away from his camp before going back.
When he returned, he found the meat well cooked. He took it off and waited for it to cool before eating. He had a few extra berries and ate those for dessert. When the moon was high in the sky, Desmond felt sleep coming on. I have no idea how long I was in that coma and I’m still tired? Desmond thought as he yawned. He made sure that the fire would stay burning before wrapping up his jacket and using that as a pillow. He closed his eyes and let sounds of the forest put him to sleep.

Desmond opened his eyes when the morning light shined across his eyes. He sat up and stretched out his arms, yawning away the sleep. He stood up and saw that his fire had survived the night, as it had just recently died. He snuffed out the remaining cinders and put on his jacket. He pulled up his hood and began walking once again. Desmond thought he was getting close to a city because the haze in the sky was getting thicker. When the trees began to thin out, he realized that he was at the base of hill. There were small trees and bushes at the top, so he walked up. When he came to the top of the hill, Desmond finally saw what was causing the dark haze. About 5 miles away from the large hill there was a city, but the disturbing thing was that there were factories in the city, huge ones.
Desmond ducked down into the bushes. He was able to see that there were huge walls surrounding the city. On the top of these huge walls were guards, big guards. Inside the walls, from as far as he could see, people milled about, carrying supplies. The people carried things that varied from scrap metal to electronics, food to wood. He was able to make out that the people are wearing rags for clothes. There are virtually no people there who were dressed in nice clothes. He wondered why the guards were doing this.
He sat in the bushes, studying the guards until he realized that they were different than a normal human. Compared to any person, they have bigger heads and are much taller than anyone. He suspected that they were people of the First Civilization. He then worried for his team. Where could they have gone after Juno was freed? Desmond thought. He knew he needed to do something, but he didn’t know what he could do. He didn’t even know what had happened. He was debating what to do when something caught his attention. It was the soft sound of running across the grass. Desmond turned to see what it was when someone grabbed his neck and tripped him, face first into the dirt. He struggled, but the person on top of him had their knees dug into his back, in such a position that if he squirmed, the knees would dig harder into him.
“He’s too small to be a Civil,” a male voice said roughly. The voice was behind him, not above him.
“We still need to make sure he’s not a spy for the Civils,” a female voice replied. This voice was above him, so it was girl who had dropped him. He scoffed, unbelieving that a girl had taken him down. He then decided to use his senses to see if he could free himself. The female on top of him was very light, but her knees kept him down. He felt small, but strong hands checking to see if he had a weapon. The hands stopped over his wrist, where his hidden blades were. The hands pulled down his sleeves to reveal his gauntlets. There were a few moments of silence and he wondered what was bothering them. “He’s the Lost One,” the girl said softly.