Eventually, Assassin's Creed creator Patrice Desilets will make another game. He'll just have to make some excruciating blood sacrifice on an arcane altar in some Mayan ruins first, because he is clearly cursed. First he left Ubisoft to chase his new vision, then eventual partner THQ drowned in a sea of unsold uDraws, and now - only a few months after being brought back into the Ubisoft fold - he's flying solo once again. This time, however, he claims the departure wasn't voluntary at all. Well, unless you define "being unceremoniously booted out the front door by security guards" as voluntary, anyway.
Initially, Ubisoft announced Desilets' brisk, refreshing lap through the old revolving door, implying that the designer left of his own accord. "Unfortunately, since the acquisition, the good faith discussions between Patrice and Ubisoft aimed at aligning Patrice’s and the studio’s visions have been inconclusive," said a statement. "As a result, Patrice has left the studio. Our priorities remain with the teams already hard at work on projects in development. They are at the root of Ubisoft Montréal’s past and future successes."
But then Desilets fired back. And I mean that. He's ready for war, from the sound of things. He explained, in a statement to Kotaku:
"Contrary to any statements made earlier today, this morning I was terminated by Ubisoft. I was notified of this termination in person, handed a termination notice and was unceremoniously escorted out of the building by two guards without being able to say goodbye to my team or collect my personal belongings."
"This was not my decision."
"Ubisoft’s actions are baseless and without merit. I intend to fight Ubisoft vigorously for my rights, for my team and for my game."
The game in question is 1666, a game that presumably involves goals and challenges and is a game. Yeah, nobody really knows what it's actually about, though speculation says another alternate history could be in the cards. Perhaps something more occult than Assassin's Creed? Or maybe it's a historically accurate account of Isaac Newton's creation of differential calculus. "Eureka!" he'll say. "The equation was here all along. Now I can finally leap from tens of stories into rickety hay bails and not die in a twisted splatter of splinter and bone!"
I've attempted to contact Desilets for further comment. More soon, hopefully.