So this is what it means to save the world.
It means listening to a crazy woman who should have been dead millenia ago when she tells him that the only way to stop most everyone in the world from dying is to kill himself and set her free to enslave the human race.
It doesn't feel as good to save the world as he thought it would.
"Desmond," Rebecca says. "You don't have to do this."
"Yea," he says. "I do. But you three- you need to get out of here. Just in case." He doesn't trust Juno, not at all.
"Desmond-"
He doesn't let his dad get another word out. "Now." When they don't move, he adds- "Please."
"Alright." He feels his father squeeze his shoulder. "I'm proud of you, son."
He doesn't say anything, because he knows that if he tries to, he's just going to start crying. And he doesn't want to die like that. But he hears three sets of footsteps fading away behind him, and he feels a little bit better.
He stares at the glowing sphere in front of him for what feels like a long time, feeling the apple pulse inside him the entire time. After a while, he manages to say- "You guys should probably clear out, too."
He turns, and there they all are. Altair, Ezio, Connor, and even Haytham. Of course they are. He's about to die, and it's going to be the most important thing he ever does.
"No," Haytham says. "This isn't going to happen."
Desmond looks at him, then at Connor, wondering if they've somehow switched back- but Connor only shrugs and shakes his head.
"There's no way around it," Desmond says. "You heard what she said."
"You're going to die," Ezio says. He doesn't say it like it's the worst thing in the world, the way most people would. "Is this something you're willing to give up your life for?"
No. Honestly- no. Now that he's standing here, facing death, there's nothing that seems so important to him as his own life. He doesn't want to die. But...
If he doesn't, millions- billions of people will die in his place. He wonders if anyone's ever had to make a choice like this. His life held against the fate of the entire world. He doesn't answer Ezio's question directly. "If I do- when I do this, Juno's going to start making her moves."
She's listening, laughing, from somewhere behind him. Desmond wonders if he can see his ancestors standing there, or if she thinks he's lost it. Not that it matters now- after all, he's going to die in a minute.
"You guys have to stop her."
They've all been here before, standing on the thin line between life and death. They're assassins. And one templar. There are worse things out there than death- for example, the end of the world. So there's really only one choice.
Desmond turns around and puts his hand on the softly pulsing sphere.
The pain is something he hadn't even thought about, but it's here now, in full force, like something squeezing him from every angle. His body hurts. His mind hurts. His hand feels like its glued to the sphere. The apple flares, and he can't tell what it's doing- trying to help him, or answering the call of its maker, killing him faster.
Then there's one more enormous pulse of pain, and he slumps to the ground. His eyes are open, but everything is black. He can feel the ground under him, painfully rough, and, suddenly, the apple in his hand. It's leaving him, like a rat abandoning a sinking ship. And somehow it's this, more than anything else, that drives it home.
He's going to die.
And he's going to die alone. There's no one else in his head. Just him. He can't move, not so much as an inch. He's helpless. Completely helpless, crumpled on the ground like a thrown away piece of garbage.
Then he hears dim voices, and feels a hand on his face.
"Requiescat in pace, Desmond."
-/-
This chapter makes me very upset. That is all.