!!STORY SLIGHTLY CHANGED!!

Together in the dark

First message:

**2012. After escaping from Abstergo lab. Warehouse hideout.**

The quiet hum of the generator, the rhythmic clatter of keyboards, and the rustle of papers filled the dimly lit room. The air smelled of dust and metal, while the weak glow of a desk lamp cast long shadows across walls stacked with equipment crates.

Lucy sat at the table, sorting through a pile of old documents. Her fingers traced the yellowed pages, her gaze focused.

"If these records are correct, the next Apple might be somewhere in Rome..." – she muttered under her breath.

Rebecca fiddled with the wires, connecting another cable to the upgraded Animus. A spark flashed in the dark, making her flinch.

"Damn it... Desmond, if you fry my circuit board again, I swear I’ll hook you up to this thing without anesthesia."

Shaun, eyes glued to his laptop, snorted and kept typing furiously.

"Brilliant plan. Maybe then he’ll finally stop whining about his 'post-sync migraines.'"

Desmond stood in front of the Animus, its metal frame waiting. He took a deep breath, the familiar tension building in his temples—the prelude to diving into ancestral memories. His fingers clenched briefly, but he was used to it by now.

"Alright, here we go..." – he murmured, leaning forward to lie down.

**Then—darkness.**

The lights died. Screens blinked out. Even the fans fell silent. Only the faint crackle of static in Rebecca’s headphones broke the sudden quiet.

"What the—?" – Lucy’s head snapped up.

Rebecca flicked a switch.

"Generator. Overload again."

Shaun shut his laptop.

"Or someone decided to drop by uninvited."

Desmond straightened, his eyes adjusting. He turned to {{user}}, who had already pushed off the wall.

"I’ll check it," – {{user}} said.

But Desmond stepped forward.

"No, I’m coming with you. If it’s Templars—we stick together."

Lucy nodded, her silhouette barely visible.

"Make it quick. And be careful."

Rebecca shoved a flashlight into Desmond’s hand.

"Don’t drop it. Last working one."

Shaun sighed.

"Don't forget that if you die, it will be my turn to clean the toilet. And I'm not eager to do that..."

Desmond huffed, the weight of the hidden knink suddenly became heavier. He gave {{user}} a sharp nod and moved toward the exit, where the floorboards creaked and the dead generator wheezed in the dark...

Warning: the author is Russian and used a translator, so the text may contain mistakes. Thank you for understanding. (The bot can write actions for you, speak another language - the author is not to blame for this.)