"Oh~ you're from Ubisoft? That French game company?"
"Yeah~ that French game company—except I'm from Montreal. You know Canada, right?"
"Of course! I see—Canada has subsidies for games, and French is an official language there too. Makes sense a French company would set up shop there. So—do you like movies? Comics? Marvel?"
"Oh—this might sound unbelievable—but I actually studied film."
"Huh? You studied film?"
"Yeah, you heard that right. I studied film—I graduated from the University of Montreal with a bachelor's degree in film studies. I really, really love movies. Always have, since I was a kid—"
"Wow, that's cool. So why'd you end up in games? I mean—Canada has a pretty famous filmmaker, you know. James Cameron. He went from Canada to Los Angeles."
"Oh, I know what you mean—I know Jimmy. He was studying physics at a state university, but after seeing Star Wars, he found his way onto Roger Corman's team. Honestly, my situation's a bit like his. His father was an engineer, mine does mathematics. But the difference is, his father couldn't control him—mine could. My dad's the president of a CEGEP in Quebec. He wanted me to stay in Canada, so even though I studied film, I couldn't actually make films—the industry over there just isn't developed enough."
"Oh—sorry, I didn't mean to bring up something sad."
"Haha, it's fine. Besides movies, I really like games too. I like the life I've got."
"Is that so? Then that's great. Doing something you love is one of the greatest fortunes a person can have."
"Yeah, I agree."
"Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself—I'm Kevin Feige, Marvel Studios' creative director, and producer on Iron Man. I was also an executive producer on the earlier X-Men and Spider-Man films."
"Oh—Kevin—nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you too. So—want to be the first official visitor to our Marvel booth? You probably heard our team's not thrilled with my layout. Got any advice for me?"
"I wouldn't dare give advice—just getting to see it is an honor."
Kevin Feige didn't make games himself, but he knew Ubisoft well—partly because everyone in the ACG world knew everyone else, and partly because Ubisoft had a long history of working with Hollywood and the comics industry.
Disney's earlier animated film Dinosaur had its game developed and published by Ubisoft, for instance. So did the Batman game series—Return of the Joker, Vengeance, Rise of Sin Tzu—either developed in-house or through partner studios and published by Ubisoft. Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Charlie's Angels followed the same pattern: Sony's films, Sony had its own game division, but Ubisoft made and published the actual games.
In a sense, the two of them were half-industry peers.
So once they'd exchanged introductions, Kevin Feige and Patrice Désilets fell into easy conversation, and Patrice came away with a solid sense of the Iron Man project.
Maybe he really did love movies—because when the finished Iron Man suit came into view, he let out a genuine gasp. "Wow, you actually built a suit? That's not just special effects?"
"Of course. A physical suit adds texture you just can't fake."
"My God, that's amazing—it looks so cool. But doesn't that cost a lot more?"
"Mm, the cost is high, but our boss doesn't mind."
"Oh, if you put it that way, I get it. Your boss really doesn't sweat that kind of money. These days, even the giveaways she does on her videos start at a million. The cost of one suit of armor probably doesn't even match what she hands out in a single lottery."
"Hm? Sounds like you know our boss pretty well."
"Of course—who in the world doesn't know Isabella Haywood by now?"
"Hahaha, true."
Maybe it was a shared sense of humor, or maybe it was just fate—either way, despite having just met, the two of them got along easily.
As the visit wrapped up, Patrice returned the favor with an invitation of his own, hoping his new friend would stop by Ubisoft's booth. Since Kevin Feige had nothing else pressing, he agreed with a smile.
At Ubisoft's exhibition hall, the first things he saw were the banners for the company's hottest original IPs—the Tom Clancy trilogy: Rainbow Six, Ghost Recon, and Splinter Cell. Next came the display boards for the newer IPs, Prince of Persia and Far Cry.
And last, a black human silhouette.
At first glance, Kevin Feige sensed something lean and agile about it. Looking closer, he found it genuinely interesting—the figure was bald, shown from behind, both arms hanging low like a wild goose's wings.
A little cool.
"This is—?"
Kevin Feige's curiosity showed.
"Oh, that's the new game we're unveiling at this show," Patrice said with a smile. "You could say I made this one myself—I'm the director. It's a story about the Knights Templar. Interested in hearing more?"
"Of course."
Since the booth was already set up, all that was left for Kevin Feige to do was wait for the show to start, then stand around looking cool for the guests—
"My lord~ come play~"
Cough, cough—
That line. Something felt off about it.
Anyway, that was the general idea. Since heading back to the hotel meant nothing but resting, and San Diego didn't offer much else to do, accepting a new friend's hospitality was the easy choice—helped along by the fact that Patrice had genuinely listened to his Iron Man pitch earlier.
At Kevin Feige's nod, Patrice launched into his own introduction. "The game we're launching next is called Assassin's Creed. It's an action-adventure title, same category as Zelda or Tomb Raider—you play an assassin in an open world, taking out targets. As for the setting, I built it around the Third Crusade and the modern day—"
Honestly, even though Kevin Feige had agreed to stay and listen, he hadn't been all that interested—not until Patrice mentioned the Crusade detail. Up to that point, it was the kind of conversation that went in one ear and out the other: something mildly interesting brushing past the surface of his mind, offering a small comfort in an otherwise quiet life. What he actually retained was anyone's guess—comics were his thing, not games.
But when Patrice said the game's setting spanned both ancient and modern times—
"Patrice, hold on a second." Kevin Feige frowned.
"Hm? Something wrong?" Patrice looked puzzled.
"Yeah. Just now, you said Assassin's Creed is set during the Third Crusade and the modern day?" Kevin Feige studied him oddly.
"Yeah~" Patrice nodded firmly. "That's right. What's the issue?"
"Wasn't the Third Crusade something from the twelfth century?" Kevin Feige planted one hand on his hip and braced the other against the wall. "And by modern day, you mean the present, right? So—is Assassin's Creed a time-travel story?"
"Oh, I see what you mean." Understanding dawned, and Patrice laughed. "It's not really about time travel. It's more about being able to go back to the past, and then return to the future."
"If you had to compare it to something, it's a bit like your Hollywood movie Back to the Future."
As he spoke, Patrice had someone bring over a computer, and began pulling up design drafts one after another in front of Kevin Feige.
Then, a story of "free traversal" unfolded before Kevin Feige.
In 2012, the world's largest pharmaceutical group, Abstergo Industries, mastered an incredibly powerful biotechnology—one capable of extracting a person's ancestral memories through their genes.
So they kidnapped a bartender named Desmond Miles.
The reason was simple. First, Abstergo's true identity was the modern-day Knights Templar. Second, Desmond Miles was a descendant of the legendary assassin Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad. Third, the Templars wanted to extract Altaïr's memories to locate an artifact lost somewhere in the long river of history.
But during extraction, Abstergo discovered the most critical memory had been blocked by Desmond's own subconscious—it couldn't be pulled out directly. So they brought out another piece of black technology: a machine that let a person relive their ancestors' memories firsthand, as if living through them.
Only then could Abstergo capture what they needed.
Since Abstergo's armed force was overwhelming, Desmond had no choice but to obey, using the "time machine" to return to the past and inhabit his ancestor Altaïr's body. From there, he began reliving the Assassin Brotherhood's experiences during the Third Crusade.
As for the ending—
It wasn't one where the good guys swept the board. Since the Templars still existed in the modern day, the Assassin Brotherhood had to exist too, and while Desmond lived through his ancestor's memories, the modern Brotherhood launched a series of rescue attempts. They failed in the end, but Abstergo had an undercover agent of its own inside—so by the story's close, Desmond was protected by his own people after all.
"Kevin, I'll admit this ending's a little boring."
"But you can probably tell we designed it that way on purpose—to set up sequels. Yes, you heard right, we always wanted Assassin's Creed to be a trilogy from the start. We believe in this series. So—what do you think?"
"...?"
"Kevin?"
"You feeling okay?"
"Your face—why does it look off?"
Anyone talking about something they love tends to go on forever, and Patrice Désilets was no exception. He'd been grinning the whole time he pitched the idea, too caught up to notice Kevin Feige's expression. Only after he set down the presentation pointer and actually looked at him did he register that something seemed wrong.
Why was this guy's face so flushed?
"Ah—I'm fine—" The sudden question snapped Kevin Feige out of it; he'd been standing there lost in thought for a while.
"Really? If you're not feeling well, I can send you back to rest," Patrice said, concerned.
"Oh, no need—I can get back on my own. And honestly, your idea is excellent. It actually helped me solve a problem. A pretty important one, actually."
"Really? That's wonderful! I look forward to seeing what you create next."
As the old saying goes: all writing under heaven borrows from somewhere—the only question is whether you know how to borrow well. People who take art seriously don't mind being borrowed from. As long as you're not copying word-for-word, just taking an idea or a line of thinking and making it your own, they're often glad of it. Literature isn't like martial arts, where competition is direct and zero-sum. For someone to recognize your inspiration in their own work—that's about the highest compliment there is.
So when Kevin Feige said Assassin's Creed had inspired him, Patrice was genuinely thrilled—and more than a little proud. Kevin Feige, producer of Iron Man, drawing inspiration from him? That was something to be proud of.
He smiled, waved Kevin off, and the two agreed to talk again soon.
Riding that wave of goodwill, Kevin Feige rushed back to his hotel, opened his laptop, and pulled up a top-secret file: the creative document for the "Marvel·DC Cinematic Universe."
Because the inspiration he'd just had connected directly to Isabella's request.
She'd told him, months ago, that the whole reason she wanted into both DC and Marvel boiled down to one thing: she wanted to sell the public on the idea that "Cartoon Beaver" was omnipotent—universal enough to crossover with any major IP and move toy sales.
Until now, Kevin Feige hadn't had a clue how to make that work. They'd been talking about it for nearly a year, and he still had nothing—because the request itself was too abstract. She wanted a presence in DC, in Marvel, maybe even in something like Star Wars, all without disrupting any of those franchises' core stories. No reasonable person could square that circle.
But now? A Ubisoft designer had stumbled onto an oddly perfect narrative device in his own game—a setting where people could relive their ancestors' lives through genetic technology.
This was it. If the public bought into a concept like that, then Isabella's problem stopped being abstract entirely. They could use exactly this kind of framework to drop her into any story she wanted.
"Holy shit, this approach is—this is almost ridiculous."
"If this works, Cartoon Beaver can cross over with every IP on Earth. No—every IP in the universe."
"We set the universe where Isabella actually exists as the true universe, the supreme one, and have her wander through other worlds using some kind of technology. That way, her actions never touch the main storylines of those other series, because her physical self only ever appears in the main universe. In the sub-universes, she'd appear only as a kind of presence, a will."
"Though—audiences might not love that. They're paying to see her, after all. We could upgrade it, though—have her enter other worlds as her full, complete self instead, and frame whatever story she's in as a spin-off."
"Hm—I think that's workable."
"So where's the entry point? Catwoman, maybe? Christopher Nolan's already said Catwoman's showing up in the third Batman film. And didn't she mention wanting to work with a Catwoman story herself? If Catwoman's in the third Batman movie already, a Catwoman solo film could spin out from that naturally. She's not a major DC character, and she doesn't have a big role in my DCU outline either—using her as the test case keeps the risk low. Okay. Starting here."
Kevin Feige muttered to himself, eyes lit up, fingers flying across the keyboard. To him, the inspiration Assassin's Creed had handed him was perfection layered on perfection. The ideas poured out of him like a dam breaking, and his hands moved like blurred afterimages, typing at a pace that felt almost inhuman.
In less than one night, he'd written a Catwoman script over a hundred pages long. After a quick revision pass, it landed directly in Catherine's inbox.
"Catherine, what do you mean Kevin Feige called you out of nowhere with an idea about what we talked about before?"
San Diego and London ran eight hours apart, so by the time Isabella got Kevin Feige's message, she'd just wrapped that day's filming on Order of the Phoenix: Part Two.
"Yeah," Catherine said, having just gotten off the phone with him. "Kevin said he got an idea at San Diego Comic-Con—something about giving you a three-dimensional presence inside two-dimensional worlds. That way you could cross over into basically any series without touching its main plot."
"He said the idea came from an unreleased game by a company called Ubisoft—it's called Assassin's Creed. He thinks the narrative angle is solid. If you want more detail, he said he'd find a way to get you the game itself. He also mentioned, more than once, that Ubisoft's whole concept is about to get tested in the real world soon, since Assassin's Creed releases this year. If the idea flops with audiences, that proves his read was wrong. If it doesn't flop—well, then he thinks you could try the crossover yourself, whenever you're ready."
"He told me a lot more on the call, honestly, more than I can repeat here. I'm not going to weigh in on it myself, since he also sent over the actual implementation plan. So—take a look when you get a chance?"