Pieces of Fate

[madimpossibledreamer]

I would suspect the stairway down is a pretty blatant Silent Hill 2 reference, not that they haven’t made other references before (there’s a lot of Stephen King, for instance). The peek-a-boo line was original, but given that I’d referenced it in Initiate I had to keep it. Others were entirely new or variations on a theme.
Long chapter is long, but I do consider the Tyler Freeborn arc to kind of be part of the finale just because of how much gets revealed in the space of a single arc.

 

Main Points: Assassin's Creed/The Secret World

Summary: Okay, not so little a tea party.
Word Count: 4666
Rating: Teen

 

        Desmond and Alice land in water again, and for a moment, the light’s gone completely. It’s only when he panics slightly, flailing, that he realizes why. The pool is filled with Filth, not average water, and with his arm submerged the light disappeared, too. As long as he holds his arm above, they can see—it’s a pool, not the ocean again, and thus there’s an exit out the side. Not an especially good one; the house and the rest of the area seems pretty creepy too, but it’s better than staying here. They quickly splash for the concrete edge and drag themselves out before they can get too much on them. Alice is trying not to show her emotion again, but if anything her expression looks like slight disdain, which is...something. That she’s more annoyed than alarmed. Maybe she’s just trying to keep Desmond calmer that it’s not worth worrying about, but if that’s the case it’s working. Rukh barely misses the pool in his dive and actually freaks out enough by the near miss that he calls out in dismay, rather than staying silent. He calms down a bit with some petting after Desmond cleans up the Filth, but obsessively grooms his feathers anyway (Desmond gets that) as they examine their surroundings this time. Filth tendrils twist around everything like vines around a long-abandoned property. The house looks vaguely familiar for some reason, but Desmond can’t place it. Like one of the houses in Solomon Island misremembered, the windows not just dark but dead and lifeless somehow. An old and rusted swingset creaks eerily like someone had just been there and taken off before they could be seen. On the other side of the path is a slide and sand pit that Desmond could have sworn he’s actually seen in Solomon Island, in the Children’s Park, next to where they’d found the Revenant. The house looks a bit weird, but it maybe feels a little bit like when Desmond tries to remember exactly what the Farm looked like, now. Distant. A child’s memories, twisted and maybe made nightmarish. Which is, of course, when Tyler decides to join them again, with a childlike rhyme (to match John, maybe, or was it the other way around?).

 

Row, row, row your boat gently down the dream,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, reality breaks at the seams.

 

        The voice is coming from the house. The porch light flicks on. There is, of course, no sign of anyone actually flipping a switch, but then again, there wouldn’t be. They’re probably supposed to go in. Which, following any of that might be a trap, but also, it’s not like John can continue to watch Desmond be entertaining in the real world if he doesn’t make it back, and Alice had been fairly confident that they could change the dream if they wanted to. And if Desmond is annoying them by being here with the Calculations and glowing tattoo, they don’t want him here any more than he wants to be here. She still looks fairly confident now, even if her grip on his hand is a little painful. Rukh, meanwhile, is doing the same to Desmond’s shoulder, extremely still like the slightest movement could alert a predator to their presence. Desmond would complain if it didn’t help confirm that they’re both there, still. He swallows, but they step forward, approaching the house. At least there’s no echoes of the past here. Not right away, anyway, but it suddenly occurs to Desmond that just because it hasn’t happened yet doesn’t mean it won’t.

 

The stage is already set. The sword in the sea, the fishermen with the unexpected catch. You’ve been listening. You’re in the know. Time for Act II. Deep into the red sargassum dream.

 

        The door—not a traditional front door, but a metal gate—opens by itself, just a crack. An invitation. No point in ignoring it now.
        If he’d expected the world on the other side of the door to make any sense, that’s pretty quickly proved wrong. It’s just one long staircase leading down, red wooden panels and paintings Desmond would swear he’s seen in, say, the pastor’s house, though even by walking down at a normal pace they flash by too quick for him to tell for sure. He thinks he might have caught one Ezio had been teasing Leonardo about, but when he slows down and turns to look it’s already gone, and if he looks behind him the walls look completely bare. It makes sense in dreams, he guesses, and the rules of this place work a lot closer to the rules of dreams.
        And the same is true of what awaits them at the end of what feels like an eternity of stairs. It’s a row of identical houses to the first, with fences in front, only they’re larger, towering above Desmond. The fence itself is taller than he is. This particular area of the dream isn’t completely dark, with street lights dotting the street—again, a twisted version of Kingsmouth. Desmond’s starting to notice a pattern.

 

Peek-a-boo. We see you.

 

        Well, that basically confirms it, not that Desmond had really doubted it. Tyler is in the middle of becoming like John.
        Too bad they hadn’t brought Bob. He’d considered it too dangerous, especially when the plan had been to get there and get back as fast as possible, but now that they’re actually here Desmond’s wondering if the little ak’ab couldn’t navigate this place like it was perfectly normal. It wouldn’t be the first time, and the ak’ab don’t seem to be as affected by the Filth as everyone else. Desmond has a vague idea of where to go if he thinks about it, but it’s not easy to concentrate on. It’d be easier if Eagle Vision would work in this place, but he’s learned his lesson about trying to actually see anything using Eagle Vision with much of the Filth around. The faster they end up leaving this weird, winding maze of houses and streets, the better.

 

You’re looking at the future, only the future becomes more the present with every second. Tick, tock, tick, tock. We all dream each other, and we unlock our potential. No more words, no more fears, just being, inheriting a role we were always meant to play. And we don’t have to win. The prize is ours for the taking, all of us. No winners, no losers, no outsiders.

 

        Desmond’s guessing that sounds an awful lot like what the Filth promised Tyler, and he’d found it such a nice idea he’s trying to use it to tempt Desmond in return. Ami had mentioned he didn’t fit in—and sure, Desmond had found that an attractive thought the first time with the siren song, but if all that waits is this empty, desolate street, cold and cruel and unfeeling, looming above them? False promises and illusions like those given by the Apple? No free will, no choice, only conformity and regimen? If he’d wanted that world, he would have just given in to the Templars completely back when Abstergo had first captured him.
        He has no clue if the Isu still created humanity here, but humans aren’t so different there than here. Something in the makeup of the human soul still longs for subjugation, for escaping responsibility and the need to make decisions. Maybe that’s why the siren song works on them all in the first place, just like the Apples had. It’s not like Desmond himself is immune. But he recognizes it for what it is. Recognizes it, and rejects it. It isn’t easy, but the important things in life never are. He doesn’t fit in, but no matter how isolating that feels it’s not always a bad thing.
        The Filth definitely is reading his mind. The world reacts to his choice by turning darker, more foreboding, and Tyler’s tone as he responds is just that little bit more hostile, just like John’s.

 

You see us as the infection, but consider yourself. No more pain, no more grief. And you would with one hand damn us all to purgatory, suffering eternal. You took the janitor from us, but you can’t take them all.

 

        That’s about all the warning they get before the sirens go off. It’s the exact same sirens Desmond heard off in the distance the first time he’d ended up in Kingsmouth, the same sirens that the Sheriff’s Department uses to warn of incoming zombie attacks.
        “Zombies at the north barricade!” a distorted version of Sheriff Bannerman’s voice calls from one of the nearby porches.
        Deputy Andy responds, “I got them, Sheriff!”
        And then they’re fighting for their lives. The weapons are right, the way they move and talk and cover each others’ backs (well, Desmond has to imagine, since most of the time they’re coordinating efforts rather than taking matters into their own hands), and he can’t help but remember the results of the tests at the Orochi camp. This is what they’re becoming, infected by the airborne Filth, and maybe also a glimpse into whatever the Filth zombies are thinking after they’ve been turned. It’s also kind of proof that he did actually save James even though there’s still the question of where the hell is he.
        Assuming they’re thinking. It does seem to Desmond like Marianne might be onto something about the varying levels of effect.
        Rukh dives with a sharp cry, getting in their faces, attempting to actually steal Andy’s shotgun, and even appears to be just casting spells. Desmond can’t tell what he’s doing, exactly, but he feels them taking effect and it appears to be frustrating the twisted Sheriff and Deputy, so it seems likely that Rukh knows what he’s doing. (Like that’s a surprise.)
        Desmond really doesn’t want to go for the kill, even though it’s highly likely these are just phantoms and it won’t actually do anything to the real versions, but one of their bullets grazes Alice, even with Rukh’s attempts to distract. She doesn’t scream, but from how quiet she gets he’s pretty sure she hadn’t been shot before and isn’t used to it. For a moment he thinks she’s stopped breathing because of the pain before he remembers that, oh yeah, neither of them had necessarily been breathing before, not here, so that might not actually be too much of a change. This very well might kill them if he doesn’t do something, and the Filth zombies are really not expecting a Hidden Blade to the neck. He tries to put every ounce of the exorcism-feeling he had when assassinating the ghosts in the mansion into the attack and hopes it’ll be enough. They do kind of melt into oozy Filth goop when he strikes the killing blows, though. And, heartbreakingly, the panic Andy shows when the Sheriff goes down seems real. It is, in some way, even if all of this is a weird dream-illusion. He turns to heal a shaken Alice, but it appears Rukh had gotten to it already (which, he’d ask questions about that, too, but this isn’t the time and he just feels relieved about it anyway).
        So they fight their way up the street. Desmond doesn’t bother to hesitate at this point, not if it could get them killed. Alice follows his lead, and more often than not it’s her thrown knife that finds its way into a Filthy throat first. (She seems to have discovered that one of the minor alterations she could make is conjuring an infinite number of perfectly balanced throwing knives, a revelation that made her grimly delighted.)
        Moose ambushes them from the sewer, throwing a bunch of explosives and yelling something incoherent about vengeance. Doctor Bannerman quietly and scowlingly directs a bunch of his patients at them in what feels like neverending waves. Norma Creed says something about how she doesn’t have anything left to lose. The pastor waves his book around, maybe doing some kind of sermon and throwing what looks like contaminated Illuminati magic at them. Desmond’s not too familiar with the words and isn’t sure if that’s because it’s twisted beyond recognition by the Filth or if it’s just the fact that for some reason they weren’t too religious at the Farm. There had been a community Bible, but the focus had always been more on Abstergo and belief in things that Desmond had thought were just as fantastical until he’d actually met the Templars, and Bill hadn’t encouraged him to read it. It’s only the fact that he hadn’t discouraged Desmond either that stopped him from memorizing the whole thing cover to cover. Madame Rogêt mumbles vague prophecies as weird Filth-shapes that only vaguely resemble birds, mostly wing (too many wings) and beak and talon with no real body to speak of, attack them. Kind of like a Revenant, but so many more of them, from all sides.
        If it had been easy to lose track of time in Solomon Island, it’s even worse here. Part of it could just be the sheer amount of fighting. But also—and here’s something else creepy Desmond hadn’t realized until he actually thought about it directly—he’s not getting tired. Neither is Alice, or Rukh. Alice is acting like she’d expected it and still is uneasy. He can’t be drawing power from Agartha, and the Calculations aren’t limitless, and he’d...know if he was drawing from the Filth, right? Alice would probably be more worried if they were, but Desmond’s not thinking of another explanation.
        So many Orochi—not just Radcliffe and Blake, waves on waves of them (probably including all the ones that had died so far, honestly). Including, and this is just cheating at this point, Filth-reflections of helicopters with beating wings and actual missiles exploding into Filth. Danny doesn’t attack him directly, outright ignoring them, mumbling as he types into what might be a computer, but Desmond’s pretty sure computers aren’t supposed to have that many eyes or drip ooze in slowly widening circles. Desmond feels kind of bad about it, but if getting rid of these Filth duplicates is a good thing, then leaving him out won’t help anyone. The ‘mechanic’ and his fellow Phoenicians—fighting them is actually pretty similar to fighting Orochi, now that Desmond has the proximity for comparison, only the Phoenicians are warier. They both have dangerous and ridiculous amounts of tech, but the Phoenicians, even the Filthy reflections, seem a little more aware that they’re mortal.
        The sides of the maze change, which Desmond has to imagine means they’re getting somewhere. It’s not houses anymore, but cars stacked high, the path finally changing in elevation as well as direction. The junkyard. Which means they’re probably going to face Edgar next. Desmond tries to climb one of the sides for a better look at the path they’re supposed to take, only for the cars to actually shake and physically throw him off. It’s a wonder he doesn’t even end up winded from that. And for the first time in this whole area there’s a light mist on the ground. It’s nothing like the fog they’ve been having to deal with the whole time on Solomon Island, but it’s new, too. Maybe a sign they’re getting closer to the real world?
        Desmond nearly stabs the dog as it joins them from behind one of the cars, and it jumps back, a little wary, but wags its tail timidly rather than trying to tear their throats out. Its eyes are normal. It doesn’t have wings or too many limbs or ooze or tentacles. The coat’s a little unkempt, but…Desmond gets the feeling this is actually a real dog, even if he has no idea how it got in here, and as far as he knows they’ve only been followed by one dog in Solomon Island even if he has no idea how she would have gotten here. “...Katherine?”
        She wags a little harder and gets a little closer, within touching distance. And she’s shaking a little bit, but she lets him reach out. She flinches, but quickly leans into it when she realizes she’s being petted. She’d been afraid of anyone being like Edgar, he’s guessing. Of her brothers too, maybe. Rukh lands on her back, and she flinches away from that hard, but forces herself to relax as he starts preening her in a gesture of goodwill. She’s just as wary of Alice, something that makes the girl pout, but Alice does flash a smile when Katherine actually lets herself be pet by Alice, too. When they start off again, the dog follows, still a little nervous but much closer than before. Like she’s trying to hide in their shadows.
        For good reason, it turns out. Edgar doesn’t hesitate before trying to run them over with his nightmare-bus with no visible entrance, only headlights that burn and dull obsidian jagged edges that catch Desmond’s skin barely and rip it open like the finest knife. The glow from the tattoo doesn’t go out, but the light does turn an eerie red that makes seeing in the mist a little difficult, particularly when some of the car-shapes rattle like they’re moving and Desmond’s trying to heal his arm. Katherine starts halfheartedly barking and actually pulls them both out of the way a few times. She’s trying to be careful and only grab clothing, Desmond notices, but the times she misses and gets a bit of a mouthful of skin he’s not going to complain about. Better that than being run over or sliced in half. He’s not sure which of the two would happen and doesn’t want to find out.
        Alice, having had enough, sets the entire bus on fire. By Edgar’s screaming, this was probably the correct approach, even if hearing someone burn to death is not exactly Desmond’s idea of a good time. Edgar does call for his dogs in retaliation, and they bound out of the corner where they’d been sleeping, too many legs and with tails long enough to grab them and pull them into waiting maws with too many teeth, or try to keep them in place to get run over by a now-flaming bus. They don’t know what to do with Rukh, though; he’s small and fast enough he’s hard for them to catch, and that fact seems to really infuriate them. Edgar actually bothers to leave the bus only when they’ve finally managed to kill both dogs, yelling about how he likes them better than people (which is probably true and still messed up).
        It’s quiet for a moment after the fight, until Desmond hears dripping. He panics for a moment until he realizes it’s just leftover blood from his arm. He should be feeling the effects of blood loss right about now, too, but other than being a little bit lightheaded he feels fine.
        “Everyone okay?” he asks, and is a little surprised to feel Katherine nudge into his side as if to answer ‘yes’. He’d half expected her to be gone after the fight, either magically or by wandering off, but she’s still here.
        “Define ‘okay’.” It’s only after he meets Alice’s eyes that he understands it’s a joke. She’s definitely starting to lose her temper a bit at being trapped here, but a little bit of arson and joking around is helping her release the tension.
        “How about we step outside and then you can set fire to the entire junkyard?” From the way Katherine perks up and her tail wags harder, she likes that idea as much as Alice does.
        While she goes about that, Desmond examines their surroundings again. There aren’t walls. It looks more like where they came in from, cracked and jammed together path seemingly taken from Solomon Island twisting up and around. There’s what looks like a giant eyeball swirling at the end of the path, and other than tripping it’s the most peaceful and least dangerous area so far. The concrete isn’t even releasing Filth. The ground crumbles beneath them before they can get there, and they’re back in the streets.

 

Freeborn. Free born. Were any of us born if none of us is free?

 

        Tyler wasn’t ready to let them go, it seems like, and just like Desmond expects, more Filth-twisted reflections get thrown at them. Again. At least they’re not repeating, so maybe they are getting somewhere as frustrating as the feeling that they’re going back again is. Katherine is just as unsure about actually fighting as she was with Edgar, but she seems to have realized that they appreciated being pulled out of harm’s way because she sets about doing so with enthusiasm, gaining a little confidence every time.
        The Morninglight people are just as cultish as they are in real life, too, chanting something about bringing about a New Dawn and the illumination of the sun. And it’s...Desmond could be imagining things, but it feels like the sun keeps coming up an awful lot recently.
        The houses change a little to either side as they keep walking. It’s still the Kingsmouth streets, but now the houses (still built for giants) are ride entrances. Oddly enough, the reporter Desmond only vaguely remembers from the motel and Krieg discuss literary and journalistic authenticity even as they try to murder Desmond and Alice and Rukh and Katherine with a hatchet. Nicholas Winter, dressed up like his father with the cane and everything, invites them to enjoy the Park even as the Filth’s interpretation of ghosts and carnie-zombies attack. John Wolf and Boone grimly discuss tactics before coming after them, one with his rifle and one with magic and the wolf. Red and Ami and Kyra, rather than go with an offensive, mostly try to keep them out using wards.
        And another change in the path ahead—closed iron gates. So far not a single path had been obstructed, just seemingly endless, paths springing off the second they choose a new one. Stubbornly, the gates resist being opened, despite not being locked, but Desmond puts a little oomph into shoving them open and eventually, reluctantly, they open, creaking in protest. The scene on the other side blurs like a mirage, and when Desmond squints hard enough against it, the familiar corridors of the Innsmouth Academy come into focus. Familiar, even though the layout is just as unfamiliar.
        Carter and the twins try to blow them up and otherwise impede their progress from above them on the stairs, trying desperately to look out for each other. Montag’s going on a tangent about new paradigms and history books that Desmond’s following just about as much as the real thing, and Usher actually is trying to rein him in, which, again, feels familiar. But then, if these are twisted reflections in some way, of course they’d be at least a little accurate.
        The Academy opens back out onto the street again. Every soldier shoots in unison, Sarge grimly shouting orders while Olsen tries to order everyone around, including, confusingly, Desmond and Alice. She’s still trying to shoot them which would make following any orders hard even if they were inclined to actually listen to a word she says, but then, logic and sense is maybe not involved where Filth are concerned. The Sasquatch, spouting tentacles all over their body, ride in on giant ak’ab. The widow Franklin and her ghost husband seem to be holding a party in the middle of the street which doesn’t sound too dangerous, until they dance right through Desmond and it feels like razor blades underneath his skin. Chen apologizes for not saving them in time, for letting them go on something so dangerous, but don’t worry, she’ll save them in a way she couldn’t save her own team.
        Desmond notices the absences too. Cassie just straight-up isn’t there. Interestingly, there’s no sign of Lorraine, no matter how closely her history ties in with the history of the island itself. Neither are the Druids, or Javier and his buddies, but then, they’re more recent arrivals—like him or Alice or the others. (And, thankfully, Loki isn’t either.)
        After the place tires of throwing zombies they know, it’s just Draug. In a way, that’s a relief. Sure, Desmond could get through fighting false shells of people he knew, but he doesn’t like it. Some of the street lights are beginning to flicker, now. Desmond’s arm, in contrast, is still warm and bright and steady, and okay, so he hadn’t really set out to be a night light, but it’s comforting in the dark.

 

If you don’t like this place, you can always change it. This is your dream, our dream, their dream. We can fix it together. You can call the shots.

 

        Desmond’s mind jumps to Shaun, like it’s been doing a lot recently, and Tyler decides to incorporate that into his sales pitch, too.

 

Don’t worry about those left behind. They’ll join us soon enough.

 

        That’s probably meant to tempt, or reassure, but all it does is terrify. The vision he’d had of Abstergo Shaun was bad enough. The idea of losing him to something that clearly scares him (because Shaun and Rebecca had not been calm about even the possibility of Filth being here) is anything but a good one, and no matter what his siren song-affected brain had thought in the moment, no matter how happy the illusion, he doesn’t want something fake. The thought of actually telling Shaun how he’s not from this world, how he actually knows Shaun and Rebecca and how he’s not fully human and how the Templars were evil where he’s from and everything else, sure, that might scare him more than mostly anything Desmond’s ever faced, but the thought of just saying nothing and building a perfect fantasy on a lie is worse. It’d be no different than overriding Shaun’s consent with the Apple. If what they could have means anything, Shaun has to choose it knowing everything.
        They walk long enough, and the eye is back. That seems, creepily, like the way to go.

 

You stared into the abyss, and the abyss, Desmond, the abyss stares back. It says hi.

 

        In the center of the eye is a mine entrance. Desmond has to imagine it’s the mine here in Blue Mountain. It does kind of seem like the center of a lot of what’s going on in Solomon Island. Maybe it’s the lock Loki’s looking for, though Desmond has to imagine for Loki, with a history with the island, he would have thought of that already. There has to be some reason he hasn’t just gone in and released the Filth already if he knows that.
        The funny thing is, the path in the mine goes until there’s a drop. Alice picks Katherine up in her arms; the dog’s a little uncomfortable with the idea until she realizes it’s to save her from actually having to make the jump herself. And just like jumping from the first island, that leads them somewhere new. The boat, the Lady Margaret, only it seems like it’s floundering now, tilting at an angle that Connor’s memories suggest means there’s a breach in the hull.

 

I had more, but they took it. Pictures, data, memories. I’ll send you one last recording.

 

        Tyler actually sounds vaguely himself, vaguely human again. It won’t last for long, but he’s putting every ounce of strength into giving them a chance to escape, it feels like, and as much as it sucks to have to leave him here, Desmond doesn’t want to make his sacrifice be in vain, either. The boat starts to sink, ichory water slowly starting to cover the deck. The only choice is to jump. But Alice puts her hand on Desmond’s arm and concentrates, and Rukh joins in, and it might be small and no one will see, but for a moment they burn bright like a star on the water before it winks out.