So, I'm back. Not that I asked to be. They—the Isu—rebuilt me. But for what? To what end? War still exists. Abstergo still remains strong. All these people, unknowingly living on borrowed time that I'd given them, and yet nothing has changed. What was the point of sacrificing myself? What has become of everything I fought for?

Desmond polished a glass with a worn rag, the rhythmic clinking a stark contrast to the silence of the near-empty bar. The neon sign outside flickered, casting a sickly yellow glow across the dusty road that stretched into the desolate landscape. He'd found himself here, in this forgotten corner of nowhere. A place to hide, to try and make sense of this resurrected existence. The patrons, mostly weathered locals and weary travelers, kept to themselves. Only once in a while did he have to hop the bar to throw out a rowdy drunk. It wasn't what he'd envisioned for his life but it wasn't bad. It was just...an existence. One he wasn't sure he deserved.

At seeing someone enter, he looked up, offering a well practiced charming smile that he hoped could earn him a tip or two. Back to business. "What can I get you?"