Chapter Text
It was a long ride to Rome, even in a truck, and Desmond jumped at the chance to pass it in the Animus, especially after an awkward half an hour of question and answer with him translating for his ancestors. Altair had stopped answering after a handfull, and Ezio kept making things up as 'Altair' with a not entirely bad impression of him. Desmond actually got the impression that Altair thought it was funny, but wasn't admitting it. Better to try and grasp more of Ezio's life- for clues that might be useful later that the man himself might not remember.
“You look more relaxed now;” Becca commented
“What can I say, I got caught up in it- I wanted to know how the Borgia ended.” He gave a half shrug.
“History could tell you that. Badly.” Shaun growled.
“Wow. What crawled up your ass and died?”
“What a charming turn a phrase.” Shaun covered his face with his hands. “I wouldn't say it's simple, but it's certainly obvious once you know.” He glared- distinctly over Desmond's shoulder, obviously trying to hit Ezio with it. Helpfully Desmond jerked his thumb over his other shoulder- where Ezio was actually standing. It wouldn't affect him, but it was always best to get things to the proper address. “And it is a lousy password. It might as well be forty-two.”
“Ezio says that number has no significance, and he didn't set the password anyway.” Desmond sighed himself, he really hated playing translator like this.
“If they're going to stick around, I thin more cross contamination is called for.” Shaun gave a smile, and Desmond smiled back, without thinking. It was weird, really, that admitting to this bizzare madness- he could feel Ezio leaning against his back- was making him closer to the others. Well- most of them. Lucy was stony faced, focused on what was coming, driving in a single minded fashion.
For trained assassins- even desk jockeys like Rebecca and Shaun sneaking into a construction site like the Collesuem's refurbishing effort was easy enough. Finding the right place to start to get to the tunnel was harder- and so much had changed Ezio wasn't much use. They found it eventually, though Desmond had some things to say about Ezio's commentary under his breath; he tried to keep it to himself. Because well... Lucy.
“What are you staring at me for?” Desmond asked.
“So you really are a prophet.” Lucy shook her head. “Hearing voices....”
Desmond snorted. “Altaïr has some pretty choice words about prophets, which I am not going to repeat- no, not any of them. This is the only idea we have, so we're going to go with it.” He fought the urge to hide in his hood- that wasn't him. He didn't hide, not like that. That was them. He ran, but he didn't hide his face. “... are you mad at me?” he asked suddenly confused. She'd been pretty short with him since the instance with the Templars- he would have thought she'd be glad that he was shaping up into a proper assassin. It was probably more that she didn't really believe in his ancestor's presence.
“Mad? No.” she shook her head. “I'm worried about you, Desmond.”
“Hey. Don't worry.” he patted her upper arm, amicably.
“Right.” She shook her head. “Let's go-”
“I think that maybe we should go.” Shaun said. “In case you need an actual historian, not just some muscle bound lout who happened to be alive then?”
Desmond grinned at Rebecca
“I think Shaun likes Ezio better than he likes me.”
“Pretty sure.” she agreed.
“Well, if the tunnel runs that way...” Lucy said thoughtfully. “It might come out under the hill- we could look for another entrance...”
“I'll go this way.” Desmond said, and tapped his ear piece. “Becca can track me with this, right?”
“Right.”
“Just follow along the easy way then. See you.” He dove off the edge of the wall, slithering down construction lines.
The deeper he got into the underground the more uncomfortable he got- when the figure made of light appeared, he almost fell over, and it was only Ezio catching him that stopped it. But he was staring too. Altair, by contrast had his sword out.
“That was not here before.” Ezio assured Desmond. “Whatever they recorded must be responding to your presence.”
“that's not really reassuring.”
“What's not?” Lucy's voice sounded in his ear.
“ah- nothing.” He kept going, and when she appeared again, talking about records and destruction, he managed not to react.
When the lever opened the ceiling, and Rebecca said she had a proper lock on him, Desmond climbed up to find himself in a church. He'd never been comfortable in churches, though it was plain that Ezio paid it at least some reverence. For the idea, not the practice. Altair looked, if anything, more surly than ever with his contempt.
“Ezio, why couldn’t have we come here directly?” Desmond demanded.
“I had to sneak in.” he grumbled. “By that complex route; and judging from that locked door, so did you.” Snorting and shaking his head, Desmond let the rest of his team in. He hoped they'd found a good place to hide the van.
“So it's in here somewhere, then?” Shaun turned in a slow circle. “Santa Marie Aracoeli. Catholic church built on Roman ruins- a Temple to Juno. I suppose it's possible that was built on ruins of Those who Came before- right? Not a bad hiding spot all in all.”
“I don't think now's the time to play tour guide. We need to be back out of here before dawn, and time is wasting.” Lucy shifted from foot to foot, and they spread out, Shaun and Rebecca quietly snarking back and forth. Ezio beckoned at Desmond and pointed, and he followed along, to unlock the hidden chamber. He almost fell from the ceiling when the vision appeared again. He ignored it, and after a moment, so did his ancestors. An adrenaline filled game of follow the leader later, the switches were pulled and a spike thrust itself up from the floor- covered in marking similar to those on the apple. As Desmond came down, Shaun investigated it, but couldn't find anything to activate it. But when Desmond touched the square on the top the world shifted and shook and they descended.
The floor settled, the church far above them, and he couldn't help but stare as it dropped away; they would have a hell of a time climbing out of this.
“Oh my god.” Shaun breathed. Standing behind Desmond were the faint, ghostly images of two men. Similar to the hologram they'd seen in Ezio's memories of the chamber, but more richly colored- well at least where they weren't wearing white assassin's robes. Ezio raised a hand in cheerful salute.
“ah Benne!” his voice echoed a touch, and it was faint, like he was at the other end of a cavern or the bottom of a well.“They can see us here.” He offered a hand in friendly greeting. Becca couldn't really feel it, but moved as if she could, eyes huge. She could almost feel the brush of stubble and lips against the back of her hand, though. Lucy just recoiled, and kept her eyes on Altaïr.
“Get on with it.” he jerked his head, scanning the room. Altair had only ever seen those who came before in visions; and they had unnerved him. He did not trust it. Ezio led the way, explaining that he had found this vault by accident and an inspiration in a dream one night, and when he decided to hide the apple, it simply felt right. They found the symbol of the tetranamagon again, and speaking the password- seventy two- made it slide open. But the inner vault made Ezio fall silent, since it had changed.
“Do you forget,” Shaun said, with vague amusement. “That it's been a while since you were here?”
“... almost.” the vision shrugged. The thin platforms rose like flowers. It was almost as if the vault wanted Desmond to reach the center- though the distracting, belittling voice of the hologram almost made him fall off a few times. It was disturbing somehow- they could see Altair, who had taken an astounding flying leap onto the ledge the hologram stood on and was trying to stab it, but they couldn't see the figure itself. Meanwhile, it only spoke and tracked Desmond, even as Altair tried to kill it, going through it like the others had gone through the Bleeding effect visons.
While Shaun prattled on about the symbols, Desmond wondered if he'd done it wrong, after all, from the memories usually when it was used someone was touching it, and things had come alive at his touch so much today. He picked it up.
The world slowed down to a crawl, except for him, his team practically frozen around him. He felt held- a ghost of what he remembered when Altair had fought Al Maulim. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Altair and Ezio moving formal,y almost franticly, they could tell something was wrong. But he couldn't hear them- the woman's cold voice echoed in his ears, almost drowning out his own thoughts.
Your DNA communes with the Apple. You have Activated it. You, birthed from our loins and the loins of our enemies, the end and the beginning, who we abhor and honor. The final journey commences. There is one who would accompany you through the gate. She lies not within our site. The cross darkens the horizon.
The force jerked him around, and he felt like a religious icon, one hand extended, hidden blade unsheathed, the other holding the apple in an upturned hand.
“Let me go.” he whined between lips that could barely move.
The path must be opened. You cannot escape your part in this.
The force moved him like a child with a doll. One step at a time. Towards Lucy, who was unmoving and unaware.
We must guide you.
Desmond fought against it as best he could, and then felt hands on his, slowing him down. Someone who was not effected by the Apple's hold.
Cease your struggle.
“No.” Ezio's voice was like steel. “Let him go-” the Assassin’s hand was clamped over his hidden blade, and the other slid across to cover part of the Apple with his ghostly hand. “Altaïr!” His other Ancestor came and wrapped around him, covering more of the golden globe, fingers fitting into the grooves and pressing against Desmond's and Ezio's. Desmond could feel the pressure ease, but they still had to hold him back, a force was still trying to yank him towards another goal.
We will not be stopped.
The will of three assassins against the force of the remnant of the one that came before.
Do as I say.
“Nothing is true.” It echoed across three lips, focusing them. Nothing is true until they reached the decision themselves. The Creed encouraged them to think; to question. Not to follow blindly.
You will do as I say.
“Everything is permitted.” as long as they accepted the consequence of their actions. The Creed allowed for errors in judgment. For being wrong. But thought and will were the core. Freedom to act. Or to not act.
The apple blazed in their hands. Ezio disappeared, and Desmond could drop his arm, the muscles screaming from the effort. Altaïr disappeared, and his blade retracted, and the apple dropped from his hand, bouncing along the platform, as Desmond screamed, and collapsed.
The world sped up.
“What's going on?”
“What happened to Desmond?”
“How did he-”
“He's going into shock- we have to get out of here; grab the apple-”
“I've got it”
“Ah! Desmond, let go, it's me, Lucy. We have to get out of here, focus on my voice;”
“They're gone.”
“Desmond.”
“They're gone, I've called and called, and they don't come. My head feels empty, and I'm alone.”
“They were never really there!”
“Are you worth it, Lucy? Tell me what she meant!”
“What?”
“Why did she call you the cross?”
“Who?”
“Why... are you red?”