So... yeah. If you've not playing the DLC for Revelations, you clearly haven't have your dreams shattered into little pieces yet. I'm here to do that.

Lucy is a Templar.

Oh, spoilers? My bad.

Ubisoft, you're now justified in killing her, but this just makes it worse. I'd rather have a dead Lucy Assassin than a living Templar one.

Clay,

I've seen the security records from last night. You must want an explanation. I had hoped to tell you about it little by little, to get you on my side, but it's too late now.

William is using us. In this war. In this war against the Templars, he doesn't think about the lives he's hurting. We aren't people to him. How can we trust someone like that? Clay, you of all people should understand.

Abstergo cares about helping people. They understand the realities of the world, its limitations.

But I know that nothing I say now will really change your mind.

I've deleted the security records. Vidic will never know about the breach. I promised to protect you, but I can't let you leave. William and the others must never know.

I'm sorry.

-Lucy

Lucy stared at the note she'd just wrote, in her clear, neat handwriting. She hated it, hated herself. She knew the Templars meant no good for anyone, but she just couldn't trust the Assassins. Not after what William had done.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, breathing in deeply, then opened them and stood up slowly, feeling thirty years older than she really was.

Wearily, Lucy left her office and typed in the necessary security codes to access the Animus room. There was no one in here, as expected; it was rather late.

She made her way over to Sixteen's room and entered, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. Sixteen was actually sleeping; she'd practically forced Vidic to give him a break.

Though he tossed a lot, Sixteen stubbornly slept on, trying to suck every minute of rest out of this night as he could.

After a few seconds, Lucy placed her note on the floor in front of his bed. He'd either notice it or step on it when he woke up. She didn't care, as long as he read it.

"What the fuck is this?" Sixteen burst out his room into the Animus laboratory, letter clutched in his hand. Thankfully, Lucy was the only one there; she didn't want anyone else to know about what she'd done.

"Calm down," she urged him, worried that his voice would summon a guard.

Sixteen seemed to cross the room in an instant. He slammed the palms of his hands down on either arm of her white chair, effectively trapping her. He leaned closer, his face a mask of rage, as Lucy shrank back, truly afraid.

"'I promised to protect you, but I can't let you leave'?" he demanded. "Who do you think you are?"

"Clay, I'm sorry, you know that—"

"Shut up!" he hissed. "So you're just going to completely turn your back on the Assassins? The Templars are not the good guys, Lucy! Why can't you see that?" Desperation was beginning to show in his eyes, desperation for her to see what was right.

Lucy looked at her lap, at the iPad that had since locked itself. Its black screen reflected her face. She couldn't stand to look at herself.

Raising her eyes, she stared Sixteen right in the eyes and told him, "I don't care. I'm doing what I think is right. Now leave me alone."

He took a step back, his back hitting the side of the Animus, more wounded by her words than any other blow she could've dealt. Slowly, he shook his head, then retreated back to his room.

After half an hour, Lucy would no longer be able to focus on the screen for glancing up at his door. She'd rise, enter his room, to find Sixteen lying on the floor, a knife in one hand and her letter in the other.

She'd stare in shock for a few seconds, then slowly move forward, as if in a dream, and gently pry her blood-soaked note from his hand. Two words stuck out: I'm sorry.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorrysorrysorry.

That was two months ago. Two months ago, but she could still close her eyes, see his wide, staring ones, the blood on the floor, the walls, her letter.

And now they were finally here. The Apple was right in front of her. All she had to do was take it.

But Desmond stood between her and it. And though she loathed to admit it, Lucy was, in fact, developing feelings for him. William's son, for God's sake! He was different, though. He wasn't like his father.

That didn't matter. None of that mattered. She pushed aside all thoughts of Desmond and Sixteen, and focused in on the Apple. The one thing that would finally bring this war to an end.

One second, Shaun was talking about symbols, the next Desmond was in front of her. Pain shot through her body. I'm bleeding.

Lucy looked Desmond straight in the eyes for a split second that felt like eternity. In his eyes she saw his regret, his apologies. Why did her eyes have to be so cold?

She collapsed to the ground.

Do you regret anything, Lucy? She couldn't tell whether the voice was her conscience or Sixteen's voice come back to haunt her.

Why couldn't you just see what was right? it whispered.

Lucy's mouth a opened a fraction and then closed, her eyes wide but unseeing. The Assassins... they were doing what was for the greater good. Abstergo only wants personal gain.

She closed her eyes, regret and loss coursing through her body as her blood drained out onto the ground.

Why couldn't I see? Why couldn't I do what was right?

Clay, wherever you are... I'm sorry.