So, Justin would die. Maybe it was better. After all, it was his fault that Darkness was walking the world.

He knew that after his death, Gorog might very well hurt the ones he loved. But he also knew that in all likelihood, Gorog would hurt them anyway. As the Dark Lord himself had pointed out, Justin wasn't stupid. He understood that couldn't stop that from happening. But he could do this, this one good thing. He could take away the weapon that was himself. He could refuse to do the bidding of the Dark Realm anymore. Even if no one ever knew it, he would die a hero. He would die knowing who he was.

"My soul. Nothing is worth that," he murmured again, feeling more sure of himself. Yes; this was right. Justin Russo was supposed to be a hero, not... not this.

He swung his legs over the ledge, looking down as a rush of vertigo hit him, and Rosie watched him with her dead eyes. In those eyes, the stars had long ago gone out. It was a thing that had happened long before she had been used as a trap for Justin. Below him, the street ran with lights, a tiny glowing river. It will be easy, he thought. Like diving into deep water. Like going to sleep. Like... forgetting.

He braced his hands on the concrete and breathed in deeply, gathering his strength for that one, hard push, and far below, a flash of color drew his eye. He squinted down into the gloom.

It was his imagination, surely. Or not? There, at the corner and spotlighted by a surviving streetlight, he imagined he could just make out the tiny, familiar figure of in a rose-colored top and high boots, staring up into the dark as if she knew exactly where the invisible Fortress lay. One lone Wizard girl who had no business being here, and no reason to call on Justin.

Justin breathed out.

Slowly, carefully, he crawled back onto the roof, his heart racing with adrenalin. He pulled himself back up to the ledge, and trembling peered down. There was no one down there.

He'd been… he'd been wrong. Hadn't he? Had she simply walked on? Had Justin seen her there at all? Maybe Justin's mind was playing tricks on him, offering him a reason to live, to come down from the ledge, a reason to do anything other than surrender. If so, Justin's mind was a dirty traitor.

But as crouched shivering over the city, he realized that it didn't even matter. Real, not real... what was the difference? It was the idea of her. In his moment of indecision, the idea of her had taken hold of him, burrowing into his heart and threatening to fill the emptiness he'd come to value so much.

Your heart's desire, Gorog had said.

Isn't there anything you want, Justin?

"Well," he whispered, his smile as thin and sharp as broken glass, "There might be one thing."

Something dark spread its wings within him.