Chapter 32

11/20/2013

08:45 (local time)

Rome, Italy

Rikkin rose to his feet as the doors to his office opened. His gaze narrowed as a tall figure robed in white was led in, his hands bound behind his back.

The man's eyes glowed golden beneath his hood, and Rikkin smirked, looking him over.

"Those robes went out of style some 300 years ago, Mr. Miles."

He dismissed the guards, striding over and pulling back the hood sharply. Desmond did not so much as blink as he eyed the Grand Master Templar.

Rikkin pretended to look around. "Where are your friends, Mr. Miles? Your ancestors? I was looking forward to making your wife's acquaintance. I never actually met her before she betrayed us."

Desmond was silent, his gaze following Rikkin as he paced in front of his imposing desk.

Rikkin snarled. "It doesn't matter. We'll find her and the rest of your merry band of misfits. You signed your own death certificate coming here. Still..."

The Templar smirked.

"In a way, I'm glad you came alone. You see Mr. Miles, thanks to you, I was able to replicate an Apple of Eden." He saw the golden eyes widen with shock, and Rikkin laughed as he moved behind his desk.

"Surprised? It just goes to show have naive you are. How naive you and your kind have always been, Assassin."

Rikkin reached behind his desk, opening a drawer. Desmond took an inadvertent step back as he held forth an Apple that glowed with an eerie silvery light.

"Can you feel it, Mr. Miles? The power of it?" Rikkin taunted, and Desmond did indeed feel the energy from the silver Apple.

It resonated in the room, and Desmond could feel his skin tingle as if lit from within by an electric charge. Beneath his skin, the white geometric patterns he'd seen after absorbing Altair's Apple in Syria appeared, flickering erratically.

Rikkin's gaze narrowed at seeing the patterns light beneath his skin.

"Well, that's certainly a neat trick, Mr. Miles."

Desmond growled.

"If you think that's cool, you should see what else I can do, Rikkin."

Rikkin grinned at him, and the silver Apple in his hand glowed. Desmond was forced another step back as he approached the Assassin with it. The energy that radiated from the other Apple made Desmond's skin crawl with some primal revulsion.

"What's the matter, Mr. Miles? You aren't afraid, are you?"

Desmond straightened, raising one hand and clenching it into a fist. "No, but you should be."

A golden glow wreathed his hand, and the patterns beneath his skin stabilized as Desmond drew on his power. A bolt of energy shot forth from Desmond's palm, and Rikkin was forced to jump back as it scorched the floor beneath him.

"I learned that trick in Brooklyn, Rikkin. You might have seen it on the news."

Rikkin growled as Desmond forced him back, bolt by bolt. As his back touched the wall, he turned, smashing the glass case behind his desk, his hand closing around the Papal Staff.

"I may not have absorbed an Apple, but I can still amplify this one!"

Rikkin's hand placed the silvery Apple in the Staff, and Desmond gasped as the distortion he felt in the room grew more prevalent.

His hands rose instinctively to protect his head as Rikkin approached him with the Staff, leveling the tip at the Assassin.

"What's the matter, Mr. Miles?" Rikkin taunted. "Can't handle a fair fight?"

Instinct ruled Desmond's movements as his muscles clenched, rolling him away from the volley of silver bolts that erupted from the Staff his enemy pointed at him.

He rolled, forced into constant movement, and as he paused for a moment, Altair and Ezio appeared beside him, moving as one to flank the Templar.

Rikkin frowned.

"Now, now Mr. Miles...three against one is hardly fair. Let's even the odds, shall we?"

Two silvery Templars appeared beside Rikkin, their eyes blank. Rikkin snarled, pointing at the two ancient Assassins.

"Kill them."

The silvery Templars split instantly, one going after Ezio and the other after Altair.

Desmond's attention was drawn away from their fight as Rikkin pointed the Staff at him, and this time Desmond barely dodged the bolt sent in his direction.

"I can do this all day, Mr. Miles, and even you will eventually get tired."

He gasped as Desmond's throwing knife whistled past his head. Rikkin snarled. "You're entirely too fond of those knives, Mr. Miles."

He leveled the Staff at Desmond, and his eyes glowed silver as he commanded, "Drop your weapons."

The compulsion to obey pressed against Desmond's mind like a crushing weight. It was easily ten times more difficult than resisting Juno had been, but he was stronger now, and his thoughts went to his son as he wrenched his mind free with a groan of agony.

"I will never obey you!" Desmond snarled, and he raised a hand, golden energy wreathing it once more.

Rikkin raised the staff at the same time, and a bolt of silver energy met gold with an impact that sent both men flying into walls.

Desmond lay stunned a moment, and he watched almost in slow motion as Altair and Ezio cornered the two silvery Templars. They worked together, as a team, while the phantasmal Templars only seemed to be able to focus on one of them at a time.

Desmond's gaze narrowed.

That was it. Rikkin could only focus on one thing at a time. He raised his hand, firing a golden bolt at the ceiling even as he rolled out of the way of another volley of bolts.

The bolts stopped and he heard Rikkin curse as he was forced to dodge falling debris.

Desmond took advantage of the his opponent's distraction to get close, crowding the Templar. Rikkin tried to strike him with the Staff. Desmond ducked the swing and drove his hidden blade into the Templar's throat.

Rikkin stumbled back, choking on his own blood, and he swung at Desmond once more, his eyes totally mad.

"If I'm going to die..." he gurgled. "I'm taking you with me!"

Desmond's hand closed on the shaft of the Staff, and the vibration of some great impact froze them both in place.

Desmond's breath was chased from his throat as he felt a great force constrict his body. He saw Altair, Ezio and the silvery Templars vanish, and Rikkin's eyes went wide. "What...what are you...?"

Desmond's hidden blade retracted, and his hand, lined with the flickering white patterns, touched Rikkin's head.

The world fell away beneath them as Desmond's eyes glowed golden, and Rikkin's expression became horrified as he felt Desmond's touch on his mind, and the Assassins voice, now choral in the manner of the Precursors, spoke directly into his mind.

"You never understood. The Pieces of Eden are not meant for humans. They are meant for our kind, the hybrids. We were to use them to repair the world. You betrayed your own kind for power, just as the first Templar did."

Rikkin's expression twisted in horror as he saw a wavering vision of a man, his blue eyes enraged, a stone knife in his hand. "Give me the Apple, Abel!"

His brother shook his head, the Apple glowing softly golden in his hand.

"Cain...it is not meant for us..."

Cain's eyes were mad now, and he raised the knife. "Give it to me!"

Rikkin's mouth formed the word even as Abel said it, "No!"

The stone knife came down, and Cain's hand held the Apple, blood dulling the golden surface of it.

"At last..."

Rikkin shuddered, and the vision faded. He was looking into the golden gaze once more, his life fading with each pump of his heart.

"The...the Father of Understanding..." He coughed. "Y-You...lie..."

The silver light in Rikkin's flared, and Desmond felt him channel the last of his energy through the Staff. A bright light blinded Desmond, and the pressure surrounding him increased until he felt as if he would be crushed.

The world around them wavered now, as if being seen underwater, and Desmond felt himself slipping as the light faded from Rikkin's eyes, his body going limp.

Desmond felt his own power being drained from him, and he realized it was the presence of the silver Apple. His power swelled within him as he struggled to control it, fighting the pull of the silver Apple.

He focused his power on the silver Apple, seeking to destroy it, and the world stilled as the silver Apple flared once, and then Desmond felt his power being returned to him...too fast. It was too fast, and he couldn't control it as is swelled within him unbearably. Desmond poured all of his being into maintaining control over the power that now flowed into him, but he felt his grip on it slipping, and as the last of his grip faded, it loosed itself with seeming glee.

Lucy...Ky...I'm sorry...

Lucy ran up on deck with the others as the sky above them turned gold. There was the muffled boom of some massive explosion, and sudden waves pushed the Altair II about like a child's bath toy.

"Hold onto something!" Gavin's voice barked, and Lucy felt Juhani and John grab her, holding her tight as the great ship pitched about. They hung on for their lives for a few minutes, and eventually the light faded, the rumblings from the explosion spreading further from them.

Lucy's eyes went towards the coastline.

"Desmond..." she whispered in horror.

The others stared at each other, and then silently at the coastline before William said, "Gavin, turn us around." Lucy's expression twisted in rage that faded to shock as William said, "We're going back for Desmond."

The first thing he became aware of was cold. A cold wind whipped over his face, making the robes he wore rustle around him. The next thing he became aware of was pain in his hand. His right hand tingled and burned, and the pain traveled up his arm.

Desmond's eyes blinked open to the incredible blue of the winter sky, and the sunlight was bright as it fell on him. He lay on his back in the middle of what had been Rikkin's office. The walls and roof that had covered the area were just...gone, as if some great hand had descended from Heaven to scoop them up.

He sat up slowly, and the pain in his right hand shocked him as he put weight on it without thinking. He hissed, cradling it in his left hand. The skin was blackened and burned, his palm covered in blisters that exactly outlined the shaft of the Staff he'd been holding.

He looked around, but like the top half of the room he was in, the Staff and silver Apple were gone. Rikkin's body lay where it had fallen, blood soaking the carpet around it.

The white lines that had traced his skin had faded, and cautiously, he called, "Altair? Ezio?"

Relief that rushed through him as they responded.

"We are here, Desmond."

Desmond got to his feet slowly, still cradling his burned hand. He looked around at the strange sight once more he touched his headset. Of course, it was dead.

Far below, he heard the wail of sirens.

He kicked open the door to the stairway, making his way down them unsteadily. Behind him, the air wavered like water once before it faded.

A/N: Aaaand...we're done. I don't have a title for the third story yet, but I have the entire plot for it written out. I haven't put everything in sequence yet but I'll get there, and I may or may not be able to start it this weekend. First...I gotta think of a title. If anyone has any ideas, lemme know. As always, review and let me know what you thought. I won't be covering anything in Black Flag since it's not out yet, and because as I've said before...unless I'm missing something the Kenways story doesn't really tie into Desmond's much past AC3.

A note on the side stories: If they're marked with "MotW" they fall within my AU's canon which means in my version of the world, they happened. They might not always get referenced in the main stories themselves, they're meant to stand alone and provide insight into individual characters and situations.