The three of them were together again.

It wouldn't be a happy reunion, however. The darkness of the night couldn't hide the hurt feelings. The strained faces, the falling tears.

And the shadow of what would come of this, of what would inevitably happen, that was reflected in their eyes.

The ice between Christina and him was like a physical representation of it all.

Wild and free. Full of spikes.

That accumulation of ice seemed to glow blue and colder than the moon.

But he could forget all that.

Put it aside, if only for a moment.

For it wasn't the three of them together, but the four of them. Abigail had not made her presence known. But her voice, which he hadn't imagined, was more than enough for him.

"Are you alright? Where are you?"

You're not giving up, are you?

That was a silly question.

No. Of course not. He didn't care what Abigail said she wanted. She was alone, surrounded by monsters who didn't see her as a person, but as a tool.

A means to an end.

He was sure she would be scared. That she was waiting for him to come help her, whatever she said.

She had managed without him for two thousand years.

That was no less valid...

However, she had also been alone all that time. But now she wasn't. Now she had him.

Now she had someone who was willing to do anything for her, and it was tiring to be strong all the time. Sometimes, if only sometimes, you wanted to depend on someone.

He wasn't wrong.

"Where are you?"

Kronos, she said simply.

But the word felt like a punch in the stomach. It knocked all the air out of his lungs.

He had considered different possibilities.

He had even tried to be optimistic, because he really needed to be. But that hadn't occurred to him. Not because he had tried not to think about it.

It simply hadn't crossed his mind.

Desmond supposed that it was because he had believed that Abigail was too strong, too dangerous, to be taken to that place.

Even after she was captured.

He must have thought that, in such a long journey, she would have had too many opportunities to not have escaped.

To have wasted them all.

Kronos.

This was the capital of the Azure Empire.

Those of the Empire disdained the world the gods had shaped, and its many gifts.

But there was one god to whom even they were subservient....

Kronos.

Everyone was a slave to time, which moved inexorably forward.

That had been the rationale for calling the capital that way, he had heard.

Desmond was also a slave to time.

And, as he heard that word, he felt his time grow darker. And shortening.

"I'm not going to be able to do it alone."

Sometimes Desmond Had the feeling that saying something out loud was like setting it in stone. Like making it real.

Desmondwished he hadn't said this.

His soul had fallen to his feet and wouldn't get up again.

"What's wrong? "Christina said, in tears, trying to control her breathing at the same time.

Unsuccessfully.

"Desmond. Talk to us," Amy said.

You're right.

You won't be able to. You're not a normal person, as much as I sometimes catch myself wishing you had that chance.

You're the eye of the storm.

But even so, it's not something you can do alone.

It embarrassed him to agree with her, this time. But he couldn't even fantasize about pulling it off.

Attacking the capital of the Empire, getting out of there alive, together with Abigail?

That was too much imagination.

That was too much even for him.

The urge to scream kept growing and growing. Becoming a black hole that was swallowing everything inside him.

But it didn't come out.

Not even the smallest sound escaped his throat.

Desmond held his hands to his head.

This was too much.

Christina and Amy kept calling him. Concerned. He knew they were just worried, but...

Shut up.

Leave me alone, can't you see I need a minute, can't you see I've had enough?

That was his first reaction.

Furious. Violent. Uncontrollable.

Desmond was all of those things, even though he had been playing at being a normal person for too long.

The eye of the storm.

If only it were that easy.

If only, like a storm, he could pass through and destroy everything in his path. But he wasn't even capable of something so simple.

He wasn't normal, as Abigail had said.

He had no problem admitting it.

Death was his thing. Destruction and death.

It was what he was best at. But even when his happiness depended on those things, he couldn't do anything about it. Everything eventually slipped through his fingers.

So it's better to have nothing at all, isn't it?

Desmond recoiled at the thought.

Frightened. Of him, of himself.

Disgusted, even.

But maybe it was the closest thing to the truth. Maybe it would be better to have nothing and no one, except for himself.

That, at least, he couldn't lose.

Only that's not quite true and we both know it, don't we?

For a moment, he thought Abigail had heard his thoughts and responded to them. But it was only his own inner voice.

Shortly thereafter, however, Abigail responded.

To his prolonged silence.

You have to leave everything in my hands. You understand, don't you?

Desmond brought his hands to his face. Squeezing, pulling, as if he wanted to remove a mask.

The urge to scream wouldn't come out.

It was eating him from the inside.

"There must be something I can do," Desmond protested. There had to be a reason why he had been saved. If he could do nothing for her, what was the point of him being here at all?

In spite of everything, he still hadn't learned his lesson, hadn't he?

He still hadn't learned to accept reality.

I've already told you. Leave it to me.

You don't have to do more than that. It's the best you can do for me now.

It made sense. It made sense, but...

Desmond. Please.

He lowered his hands. He was startled because, while he was blindfolded, Christina and Amy had moved in on him and were very close. They were almost on top of him.

"Now I know where she is."

Christina didn't take that as good news.

Her expression darkened, almost as if she already knew where Abigail was, just as he did.

But she felt worse for an opposite reason than the one that made him feel like shit. Christina feared it meant that now she really had nothing left to do, no way to stop him, and he felt that way because leaving had stopped seeming like a real option to him.

"Where?" Amy asked.

"Somewhere in the capital of the Empire.

She hadn't given him the details. But, anyway, that was more than enough. To shatter everything.

He felt like... like, fuck, like a popped balloon.

"I'm sorry," Christina said.

He knew she was being sincere, even though this revelation meant she'd get what she wanted in the end.

Amy put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing.

"We'll work this out." Did she even believe that?

It would be nice if someone, albeit for less"than"grounded reasons, sincerely believed that things could still be fixed. It wouldn't change reality. It certainly wouldn't.

But it would be nice.

A little optimism.

Desmond. Promise me you'll do the right thing. Promise me.

The right thing.

That sounded good. Desmond wished, incidentally, that it were that easy to know what the right thing to do was. Or accept it, once it was done, however right it was.

"Let's get out of here," Christina said, extending a hand toward him.

Desmond took a deep breath, looked around.

"Amy?"

"Yes?"

"You should take that down first," Desmond said blankly.

He and Christina had caused some damage to the environment. Snapped a tree in half, damaged the train tracks.

However, that spiky ice sculpture would be the most attention grabbing.

Evidently.

"Oh. Yes, of course."

Amy raised a hand, gestured, without even looking.

In a few seconds, that pile of ice melted as if it had been in the sun for many hours. Without leaving any residue, moreover. It was as if it hadn't been there in the first place.

"But don't try to avoid the issue. Come back with us, okay, back to the room. Get some rest at least for tonight. And then... then we'll figure it out."

Amy kept repeating that.

Was she saying anything that popped into her head to reassure him?

No.

Maybe it was silly, but it sounded like she was being serious. In spite of everything. In that case, he wished the girl were right

"Agreed?"

"Agreed," Desmond repeated, nodding.

He allowed himself to be led out of the night and back home. Or the closest thing he had to home, anyway. He could no longer call it home, no more, without hesitation.

For there would always be something missing.

The second set of beats in his heart seemed very distant.

Weak.

Christina and Amy were ahead of him, leading him like a small child.

He wasn't trying to insult them with that comparison. He felt that way, more or less, and rightly so.

Without realizing it, just like a small child, he was falling further and further behind.

He leaned a hand on the wall of the hallway as if he would need it to keep himself upright.

It took them a while to notice, but they noticed. Christina was the first to turn around. Maybe because she had a head start on Amy.

"What's wrong?"

But not enough to not need to ask that question, of course.

What was going on was that he'd had an idea.

A crazy idea, something he hadn't thought was an option at first, that he hadn't even considered. Yet, at this point, it seemed like the only thing to do.

Everyone was telling him to back down. Begging him to listen to the voice of reason.

No. He wouldn't.

He wouldn't back down again.

He would go forward and he would do it not for Abigail, not for Christina and Amy either. For himself alone. Because, at the end of the day, that was all anyone had.

Desmond set off again.

But not to follow them, not back into the room.

Upwards.

He was moving as if to finish what he intended to do before he had time to think it over.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To do what I have to do."

"Stop for a moment. Can we talk about it first, at least?"

Desmond turned around halfway up the stairs. The two of them were at the top of the stairs, raising their heads to look at him.

"I... have an idea." That wasn't enough explanation, of course. They were not satisfied. Desmond walked down the stairs.

He stood in front of them. Face to face.

Time to set it in stone, he thought.

Desmond didn't have time to waste looking for the teacher on duty.

Even if he did, he would most likely not be able to convince her that she should go wake up the headmaster. That yes, it was that important.

He would just be wasting his time.

Besides, after he did what he intended to do, he would have bigger problems than waking up the headmaster in the middle of the night.

But... This was his only ace up his sleeve.

With all other options exhausted, he had to at least try this thing. He had to try it.

Desmond crossed the hallway.

Not alone. Amy and Christina were behind him, but his explanation hadn't satisfied them.

They were still against it. What was he saying, now they were more against him than ever.

"Desmond, you don't know what you're doing," Christina said. "This is even worse than leaving." She put her arms around him, Desmond slipping out of her grip quickly. "Listen to me for once!"

He didn't listen.

He didn't back down, as he had promised to himself.

He opened the door to the headmaster's room. But Desmond didn't have to wake him.

The man was already awake, lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Jacob sat up, slowly, sighed exhaustedly.

He looked at them with the narrowed eyes of a man who had barely slept in weeks. Amy and Christina instantly fell silent.

"I hope you have a good reason for being here now," Jacob said.

"I've been keeping secrets since day one, and we need to talk," was Desmond's reply.

There was no turning back now, no way. He would have to keep rolling down the hill and see what the future he had chosen would bring.