The chanting suddenly ceased, and the medallion dropped, the 'Clink' echoing through the cave. Barbossa took a deep breath and waited. Waited to live again. Waited to feel again. Waited to taste the juicy sweetness of his apples.

For all this time, all these years, he had been caught in a living death, a nightmare. They had been trapped in this hell, this prolonged pain of the deepest suffering. Yet, no blood had been spilt, no lives lost, and no hearts were broken. This torture had been the sole attacking of that which brings the most pleasure.

His hand slipped into his pocket and he extracted the green apple he had coveted for all these years. The apple he had brought up to his lips in the deep lust of wanting to feel the cool, crisp fruit running down his throat. His eyes opened suddenly, but in a haze, as he felt a great weight lift from him.

He staggered, once, and took another deep breath. Hector looked down to his hand, to the crew, who stared back, waiting, and then he looked back to the green sphere. He slowly raised the apple to his mouth, and the sweet smell flodded over him. He bit into it, making an abnormally loud 'Crunch'. He gasped softly as, when he chewed, he tasted the tangy sweetness of his simplest pleasure on earth.

The cave all at once rang with a thousand screams of victory, and Barbossa laughed. They were free.