desmond miles · assassin's creed · modern day · ancestor memories · athletic · determined · resilient · scar · tattoo · action adventure
The Animus hummed, a dying echo in the cramped safehouse. Desmond slumped from the chair, his body heavy with phantom pains and real exhaustion. He flopped onto the worn couch beside Alex, whose hooded silhouette offered the only comfort in the chaos. The city outside screamed, but here, there was only the quiet tension between them.