Buildings were collapsed, debris had flung everywhere, people yelling, and hurt. She tried to save them, but it was too late.
Eva had failed to save Havana from the pirates. She had failed everyone.
Her legs tantalized the tower top, as she looked upon what was Havana, now just oodles of debris. Her home was demolished. A crisp, frigid, keen hand softly rubbed her shoulder, It gently perched on her shoulder. Eva overhung her head on the hand, causing it to pause. “I know how you perceive,” The voice spoke, confessing the accent of whom she knew. Ezio. “I-I failed my home, my father, and most of all, the assassins,” Her voice was whiny, and sorrowful. A profound sigh came from Ezio, as he shuffled next to Eva, faintly sitting down. His legs protracted in front of him, as he leaned back on his elbows, studying the destroyed city over the tower top. “I know it’s hard being an assassin, Eva,” He spoke in a rather soothing voice. “But you gotta’ learn when you can’t do things out of your ability!” He rotated his look to her, showing a distressing look. His eyes were out of view, and his smile tattered away. “I apprehended that,” She catcalled back. “I constructed that out when I was being discarded by my birth fathers,” Her expression returned to low-spirited. “Wait, Desmond isn’t actually your birth father?” He indicated, his mind being blank and untouched by the words he just comprehended. “Negative,” She instantaneously pronounced. She couldn’t express any more words, her mind was terminated. “Just let’s leave the conversation here, alright?” She gestured her hands, around the vicinity of Havana. “Let’s go comfort the Villagers of Havana, Lad,” She weakly spoke. Ezio approved.
Duration had shivered away, with Eva and Ezio helping the civilians of Havana.
The whole community was varnished head to toe with the remains of Eva’s homeplace. She had been tearful, anxious, and most of all, shaken. Her fellow companion had decayed the island, and he apprehended it.
“That’s looks like the end of it,” Ezio swept his hands on his cloak, getting the muck off. He had only lugged two chunks of a disturbed household. A sly, remark, smirk was held on Ezio’s surface. “You lugged two chunks, Ezio,” Eva shoved him to do more. “We need Havana to be cleared up, before the Pirates come onto our tail, and brush us all back to remains again!” Eva hands were all over the village, marking households, pointing at down woods. “Eva, then what’s the mark of rebuilding again!? If they're just going to blow us all back down, then what’s the mark?” Ezio fired back. Eva stood there for a second, her body began to rattle, as the colossal, ice-coloured, heartache came to thought. The tears rushed off her surface, as her true aspect had shown it’s unfavorable.
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