Fate of the Gods

by Matthew J. Kirby

  They paused at the door before charging outside. The moment they appeared, they might get shot at.

  “Are you ready?” Javier asked.

  Owen armed the grenade. “Count me down.”

  “In three, two, one—”

  Javier shouldered the door open, and Owen leapt through in a roll. As he came up, he found the nearest helicopter, hoping it would be the one carrying Isaiah, and he hurled the EMP grenade at it.

  The second it left his hand, he heard the first shots, and dove back inside with Javier as bullets struck the cement balcony with sparks and chips and dust.

  “Did you hit it?” Javier asked.

  Owen didn’t know, but he turned to look, and saw the blades slowing on the helicopter he had targeted. “I hit it,” he said.

  The EMP pulse had knocked out the helicopter’s electrical systems, and the aircraft was going down in an uncontrolled spin, forcing the other helicopter to dodge away from it.

  “Nice job,” Javier said.

  The disabled aircraft careened overhead, its tail swinging dangerously close to the Aerie’s windows, and it occurred to Owen that the helicopter could very well crash into the building, which was something he hadn’t considered.

  “We better get back to the others,” he said.

  So they raced back downstairs, flying down the steps much faster than they had climbed, and found Monroe still furious. But the rest of them had also noticed the helicopter, and they watched it through the atrium’s glass ceiling as it came closer, and closer, until it became clear how it would finally lose its tug-of-war with the ground.

  “Run!” Victoria shouted.

  They all sprinted toward her, and toward the garage, where they’d planned to hole up, just as the ceiling above them exploded in a glittering shower of glass, and the building shrieked from torn girders. Then an entire helicopter dove right into the atrium, nose first, its blades tearing up the building as it fell.

  The others managed to get out of the way before it made an impact with the floor of the atrium, but they were on the other side of it from Owen and Javier.

  The helicopter’s blades struck the floor, causing an explosion of tile and subflooring, and a huge piece of one blade snapped off and went flying, slicing the air above Owen’s head. He and Javier dove, and then dove again to get out of the way as the body of the helicopter smashed into the ground and rolled through the glass walls of the conference room, the lobby, and lodged itself in the front doors.

  “Go!” Javier shouted.

  He pushed Owen, and the two of them ran to join the others just as the first ropes from the remaining helicopter uncoiled through the now-opened ceiling. A moment later, agents descended through the breach, guns already firing.

  Owen and Javier reached the rest of their team as they fled from the atrium, racing down the corridors until they reached the glass tunnel that would take them partway down the side of the mountain to the entrance of the garage.

  “That was incredibly stupid!” Monroe shouted.

  “But I took out a helicopter!” Owen yelled.

  “You took out most of the building!” he said. “And you almost took us with it!”

  Inside the tunnel, Owen had a better glimpse of the forest, and through the glass he could faintly hear shouting and gunfire from the Aerie’s sentries. Whether the M-44s were doing their job, he had no idea, but he wasn’t about to go out in that mess to find out.

  A few moments later, they reached the garage, and they took up their positions guarding the doors in groups with the few weapons they had. Owen had one more EMP, and Javier had a sleep grenade. The others had their own weapons, also taken from Griffin’s equipment.

  “Get ready!” Victoria shouted.

  Owen listened to the distant sound of what had to be the first helicopter exploding. Any moment now, the first agents would find them. His body had gone numb with the adrenaline of it all, but he kept himself alert and ready.

  “If they come to your door, you know what to do,” Monroe said, Sean in his wheelchair nearby, Natalya standing at his side.

  Several moments later, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, and voices over radio sets. He and Javier prepared themselves, and when the enemy came into view wearing Abstergo’s enhanced paramilitary gear, they both attacked. Owen threw his last EMP grenade, knocking out the systems in their helmets for communication and visual enhancement.

  Then he and Javier threw themselves into hand-to-hand combat. Owen drew on every experience, every Bleeding Effect, and laid into his enemies with his fists, his feet, and a length of a steel bar he had found among the tools, laying out as many of them as he could before retreating back through the hallway into the garage.

  Across the large, open room, Monroe and Natalya had taken on a group of agents, and Owen wanted to go help them, but that would leave his door unguarded. A few seconds later, he was glad he hadn’t given in to that temptation, because another wave of Templars came at him and Javier.

  Without an EMP grenade, the only tool they had was Javier’s sleep grenade, which he tossed into the hallway. But its effects weren’t immediate enough, and some of the agents made it through. Owen knew they weren’t going to be able to hold out as long as they would need to.

  Another group of agents ripped through the door Victoria, David, and Grace had been guarding, and now Owen went into defense, using every twist and dodge to try and disarm the agents of their guns.

  “Fall back to me!” Monroe shouted.

  This battle had turned to a losing one faster than Owen had expected. He and Javier first joined up with Victoria, David, and Grace. Victoria held her own well against her former allies, and David and Grace had both clearly gained their own Bleeding Effects from their simulations.

  But it was hopeless.

  Even if they beat them all, Isaiah hadn’t even appeared yet.

  And with that thought, as if summoned, Isaiah stalked into the room, wielding the complete Trident.

  “Finish them!” he shouted.

  “No!” Sean screamed, loud enough that Isaiah could hear. “I want you! I challenge you, Isaiah!”

  “Halt!” Isaiah bellowed, and his agents ceased all their aggression and attacks within seconds. “After all your failures, you would challenge me, Sean?”

  “I do challenge you!” Sean replied, wheeling himself forward.

  “Do you still think you’re Styrbjörn?” Isaiah asked.

  “No,” Sean said. “But I don’t need to be to stop you. And I know that’s what you’re afraid of. That’s why you’re here.”

  Isaiah scoffed. He wore a sleek, white armored suit, and the Trident of Eden bore all three of its prongs in wicked formation atop a long metal staff. Owen now saw it not only as a source of power, but as a weapon capable of inflicting injury and death.

  “The earth’s renewal begins now,” Isaiah said. “It begins with your deaths. You have brought this on yourselves.”

  “Actually,” Owen said, taking a step toward him to stand beside Sean. “It begins with—”

  Isaiah slammed the base of the Trident into the floor, as if planting it there. It cracked the cement floor beneath it, and the metal sang, filling the garage.

  Then fear.

  Owen closed his eyes, holding his head against the storm. He had been here before. He had seen this before. The worst of everything ever said about his father all made true. He knew the others now experienced their own versions of this hell. But for Owen, it had become something else since the last time he’d seen it. Monroe had always questioned whether he was ready to see his father’s memories, and Owen hadn’t ever understood what he meant.

  But now he did.

  Before, Owen had never considered the possibility that his father’s memories would reveal anything other than his innocence. But Monroe was able to ask what would happen if the memories showed something different. Something Owen wasn’t prepared to see. To be ready in the way Monroe asked, Owen had to accept that his greates
t fear might be confirmed. He had to accept that his father might be a murderer. He had to accept that his grandparents were right.

  He had to accept it.

  That was the true opposite of fear. It wasn’t courage, or bravery. He could be brave and afraid at the same time. But if he stopped fighting his fear, and accepted it, the fear lost its power. The way Natalya had accepted that the Serpent would eat her.

  Was that what Minerva had given them? Not an immunity, but a way to deal with the effects of the Trident?

  Owen looked directly at the vision the Piece of Eden showed him.

  And he accepted that it might be true.

  He accepted that he didn’t know what his dad had done, and that he might never know, and maybe he didn’t even need to know. He could move on, and live his own life.

  With that, the vision fled, taking the fear, and Owen opened his eyes.

  The others staggered under the weight of their visions, and Owen called out to them.

  “You need to accept your fear!” he shouted. “Remember the Serpent, and step into its mouth!”

  One by one, his friends opened their eyes as they escaped their own terrors, standing up straighter, blinking away tears, finally understanding the shield the ancient Minerva had given them.

  “Listen up!” Javier said. “We charge him at once. Use everything you have. Every Bleeding Effect and every skill.”

  “No!” Isaiah shouted, and he struck the floor again.

  This time, Owen felt his mind bombarded by wave after wave of awe, emanating from Isaiah.

  “I offer you a better world!” Isaiah said. “Don’t you understand? Don’t you see? The earth is weak and diseased, kept alive for too long. It must be allowed to die to be reborn. I offer you this. The new earth will be your inheritance, if you but join me!”

  Isaiah burned with radiance, drawing Owen toward him, and Owen wanted to serve that light. He wanted only to be near it, to feel its warmth. But he forced himself to close his eyes and shut out that brightness. He returned to their next stop on the Path, the Wanderer they had met, and the Dog who had traveled with him in complete devotion. And when Owen had to find a new companion for that devotion, he did not choose the rich man in his tower, or the shepherd with his flocks. He chose another Wanderer and seeker of truth.

  Isaiah deserved no devotion, because his light was a lie.

  Owen opened his eyes, and the glow around Isaiah tarnished and went cold. Then Owen took another step toward him. The others did as well, finding their own answers in Minerva’s gift.

  Isaiah’s face now showed his rage, and he struck the ground a third time with the Trident. The cold flood that now poured over Owen’s mind was a tide of despair, pushing him toward an abyss that beckoned him to embrace its oblivion.

  Over its siren call, he heard Isaiah saying, “None of you can see what I see. None of you understand what I understand. But I can lead you from this fallen earth. I can carry you into a world of hope and rebirth.”

  Owen felt the abyss pulling on his mind, and there he was, back on the mountain, the wind clawing at his face, the Summit impossibly distant. On one path, Isaiah offered him a rope to hold on to. The promise of safety. But on the other path, Owen would instead rely on himself. No rope. Just his own strength. His own hands. His own will.

  He turned away from the abyss, and he turned away from the rope that Isaiah offered. He would instead place hope and faith in himself.

  With that, the torrent of despair washed away, and when Owen opened his eyes a third time, he stood only a few yards from Isaiah. The others had almost reached him as well, as they climbed their own mountains, but Owen decided not to wait.

  He charged, letting his Assassin ancestors rise up through him. Varius, and Zhi, two different warriors from different times and different parts of the world. Both of them working in the darkness to serve the light. But Isaiah was prepared, and even though the Trident no longer had any power over Owen’s mind, its deadly edges now sought his flesh.

  Isaiah leapt away, spinning the Trident around his body, making it difficult for Owen to get close. But gradually the others joined him. Javier, and David, Natalya, and Grace.

  The rage Owen had seen on Isaiah’s face had become fear, and that made Owen laugh. Now Isaiah finally understood the Ascendance Event.

  Isaiah flipped the Trident around and leapt at Owen, but the others joined in the battle and defended him, without weapons, instead fighting hand-to-hand. Isaiah proved to be a more formidable fighter than Owen would have expected. He spun and leapt and thrust and slashed, but Owen and the others countered his every move, and he began to slow.

  Monroe and Victoria stood by, waiting and watching, as did Isaiah’s agents, as if they understood that the challenge had to play out.

  But the end had almost come. The battle was almost over. Owen and the others pressed Isaiah, throwing punches and kicks, until they finally began to land. Isaiah grunted, and flinched, and staggered as they launched assault after assault, until they disarmed him at last and flung the Trident away.

  Isaiah watched it abandon him, and as he reached for it, Javier was there with Griffin’s hidden blade.

  One thrust, and it was over.

  Isaiah slumped to the ground, and no one moved or said a word for a long time. They all stood around his body, breathing heavily.

  Gradually, the hold he had over the Templar agents seemed to fade, and they looked at one another in confusion. Victoria ordered them all from the garage, while they were still dazed and off-balance, and then hurried toward the Trident.

  But Natalya beat her to it.

  She picked up the weapon, and gripped it tightly, with purpose.

  “Natalya,” Victoria said. “Please. Give me the Trident.”

  “No,” Natalya said, her voice both calm and strong.

  “Natalya,” Victoria said. “I will not ask again. Give me the—”

  “You know as well as I do you can’t take it from her,” Monroe said. “Though it would be interesting to see you try.”

  Victoria raised her voice. “You have no stake in this, Monroe. You walked away from the Order. From everything. But I didn’t. I am still committed to making this world what it ought to be.”

  “Like Isaiah?” Natalya said. “Where does it end, Victoria?” She looked down at the weapon in her hands, and then she looked at Owen. “Minerva wanted us to do something else. Something only the six of us can do.” She held out the Trident, and they all came together to grasp it.

  Upon touching it, Owen felt an exhilarating surge of power that rippled the muscles in his arms and reached his heart, which began to race. But that power seemed to summon something else from deep inside him. He felt a presence ascending within his mind as though he were in the Animus, a consciousness so unknowable and vast he couldn’t find the edges of it, or even make sense of it.

  The power within Owen moved back out from his chest, down his arms, and into the Trident. Its staff and blades began to vibrate, mildly at first, but soon grew stronger, and stronger, until Owen didn’t think he could hold on to it anymore. He looked at the others, and they were all gritting their teeth, holding fast, the Trident almost a blur in their hands, until suddenly it felt as though something gave way inside it. A fault line finally cracked, releasing all the stored-up power and energy it contained, which radiated outward in a shock wave. In its wake, the Trident had been rendered nothing more than a simple piece of metal.

  Exhausted, Owen let go. The others did, too, and the Trident clattered to the ground.

  “What have you done?” Victoria asked.

  Natalya turned toward her. “We saved the world,” she said.

  The town car turned onto Grace and David’s street, and she felt a strange uneasiness about being home. In some ways, it was the same place it had always been, but in other ways it felt completely different. She knew things now that almost no one else knew. She had done things no one in her neighborhood had done. Victoria had told them all it
would probably take some time to adjust to this new normal, but they would, eventually. She had also promised that the Templars would leave them in peace, so long as they did nothing to draw the Templars’ attention. That promise felt a bit hollow to Grace, or even empty. It meant they were probably being watched. But she had no intention of entering the world of the Order and the Brotherhood ever again, so she told herself she had nothing to worry about.

  The car pulled up in front of their house, and, next to her, David let out a sigh.

  “Here we are,” he said.

  “Here we are,” Grace said.

  “I’m glad Victoria sent us in the car,” he said. “Dad would have flipped out when he saw the crashed helicopter in the middle of the Aerie.”

  “Speaking of Dad,” Grace said, “we agreed we’re not telling him or Mom anything, right?”

  “Right.”

  Grace looked hard at him.

  “What?” he said. “I’m not going to tell them anything.”

  “Good,” she said.

  “You don’t have to worry about me anymore,” David said.

  “I know I don’t,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t. You’re going to do what you’re going to do, and I’ve accepted that. But that doesn’t mean I won’t black your eye if you step out of line.”

  “You won’t always be there, Grace. That’s what I’ve accepted. And that’s okay.”

  She gave him a little shove. “Hop on out. Let’s go inside and let them know we’re here.”

  “Okay.”

  He opened the car door, and they got out and walked up to their porch together. Their mom opened the door for them before they’d hit the top step, and Grace could smell her banana bread baking inside.

  Natalya opened the door to her grandparents’ apartment and walked inside. She didn’t smell anything cooking on the stove or in the oven, but that was okay, because the only thing she wanted was a hug, and when her grandmother met her at the door, Natalya reached her arms around her and squeezed a little too tightly. But her grandmother was a strong woman, and she could take it.