The cold sterility of the Abstergo lab was a stark contrast to the immersive memory Callum had just been pulled from. The familiar whir of machines, the soft hum of computers, and the muffled conversations of the researchers all created a cacophony that grounded him back to reality.

His body felt stiff, a result of being immobile for what felt like hours. He tried to shake off the sensation, attempting to reorient himself to his surroundings. The glaring overhead lights made his eyes squint, and he reflexively raised an arm to shield them.

"Get him out. Now." The lead researcher's voice, filled with urgency, broke through Callum's disorientation.

With practiced efficiency, the technician moved, tapping commands into the console. The straps holding Callum in place began to retract, and the helmet-like interface started to lift away from his face.

"We had everything calibrated perfectly," the lead researcher muttered, clearly frustrated. "What went wrong?"

The technician, staring intently at the screens displaying a myriad of data, responded, "I'm not sure yet. It's as if there was an interference... something we haven't encountered before."

Callum slowly sat up, his mind racing.

"Easy, Callum. Take it slow," the technician advised, helping him sit up. The straps and nodes that had connected him to the Animus were gently removed. A cold sensation lingered on his skin where the nodes had been attached.

The lead researcher approached, a concerned look on his face. "How are you feeling, Callum? Any dizziness or nausea?"

Callum shook his head slowly, trying to piece together his thoughts. "Just... disoriented. It's strange coming back."

The lead researcher nodded sympathetically. "It's not uncommon, especially given the length of your session today. We'll give you some time to recuperate and adjust."


The guards wasted no time escorting Callum over to his quarters. He didn't say anything, and he was grateful for the opportunity to rest and process everything that had happened today. As his mind continued to reel from being back in his present, it began to become difficult to separate the memories from the reality. He could only hope that the team would be able to make sense of what had happened in the Animus... and why this anomaly had appeared in his memory.

Callum's quarters were simple yet functional, with a small desk and a modest bed to occupy the space. The bare walls were a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of Japan, providing a harsh and clinical environment. The only source of light came from neon bulbs and fluorescent lamps, creating a sickly shine throughout the room. The window overlooking the courtyard provided a glimpse into the outdoors, but its metal bars blocked any attempt of escape. Even in the quiet solitude of his quarters, Callum could feel the tension and scrutiny of the guards and researchers outside.

The metallic scent of the room filled Callum's nostrils as he sat down on the bed. Its stiff mattress and the cold touch of the sheets were another reminder of how far removed he was from the lush landscapes and sensory experiences of the memories. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, where a single fluorescent light flickered intermittently.

Thoughts swirled in his mind. The shadowy figure, its warning about the "Forgotten Land of Fantasy", and the very real sensation of danger that Callum had felt in the Animus all weighed heavily on him. With every passing second, the memories began to mesh with his reality, creating a surreal blend of past and present.

He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe the dull ache forming in his head.

There was a soft beep from the door, breaking Callum's train of thought. It slid open to reveal a tray of food, a stark white plate holding a portion of what looked like bland, mass-produced sustenance. Beside it was a glass of water, its condensation the only hint of something real and tangible in this sterile environment.

Though not hungry, Callum knew he needed to eat. The physical exertion of the Animus, combined with the mental toll it took, left him drained. He picked up the fork, mechanically taking small bites, his mind still racing with questions.

What did the shadow mean? Why was this specific memory so vital to Abstergo? And most importantly, what was the "Forgotten Land of Fantasy"?

Callum knew he needed answers, but for now, he could only wait and recover his strength.