Callum Lynch stirred to consciousness, the gentle embrace of a plush mattress cradling him within the confines of his quarters at Abstergo. The ambiance of the room was dominated by neon lights, their soft luminescence painting the walls with ethereal shades, creating a juxtaposition of modernity against the otherwise sterile surroundings.
He gingerly lifted himself, muscles flexing and tensing as he extended his arms, ridding the remnants of lethargy from his limbs.
The room's relative tranquility was suddenly broken as the doors hissed open, unveiling a researcher flanked by guards, their postures rigid and weapons prominently displayed. The cold fluorescence from the hallway streamed in, casting elongated shadows that danced with the neon glow inside.
Every step they took was deliberate, the sound of their boots against the metallic floor echoing a clear and present authority. The researcher's face was impassive, glasses reflecting the neon lights, making it hard for Callum to gauge their intent.
While the guards maintained a steely vigil, their fingers never straying too far from their weapons, Callum's gaze was fixed on the researcher. A palpable tension saturated the air, thick and choking, as the weight of the moment settled heavily on Callum's shoulders. He found himself holding his breath, waiting for an explanation, a command, or any hint of what was to come next.
"Good morning Mr. Lynch"
The researcher's greeting was curt, the words almost clinical in their delivery. The room's ambient lighting seemed to accentuate the stark contrast between Callum's guarded composure and the unwavering focus of the guards.
"Good morning," Callum returned, his voice betraying no emotion, each syllable measured and deliberate.
His eyes, however, told a different story. They darted subtly, scanning the room and the individuals before him, always calculating, always assessing.
Catching the slight shifts in Callum's gaze, the researcher purposefully closed the distance between them. She held herself with an undeniable assurance, every aspect of her presence exuding a seasoned mastery over her profession.
"My name is Dr. Sophia Rikkin," she stated, her tone resonating with clarity and a depth of experience. "I'm responsible for directing the entirety of research activities here at Abstergo."
"Dr. Sophia Rikkin, noted," Callum Lynch responded, his voice steady. His eyes briefly darted from her to the looming presence of the armed escorts flanking her position.
Just then, Callum winced for a fleeting moment, a sharp pain darted through Callum's head, causing him to wince involuntarily. It felt as though his mind was being torn between the tangible present and echoes of memories long buried. These disorienting flashes blurred his vision momentarily, offering glimpses of another time, another place. Struggling to maintain his composure, Callum took a deep breath, willing himself back to the present moment, grounding himself in the reality of the room and the figures before him.
Sophia observed Callum's brief struggle with a clinical detachment, her eyes never leaving his face. As he regained his composure, she spoke, her tone methodical and informative.
"The episodes you're experiencing – those fleeting images and sensations – are termed the 'bleeding effect'. They're residual imprints from your most recent dive into the Animus," she explained. Her words carried the weight of expertise, suggesting she had witnessed, perhaps even anticipated, such reactions countless times before.
Sophia continued, "They've layered themselves over your present-day vision." She took measured steps closer to Callum, her approach deliberate and non-threatening. "With my guidance," she offered, her voice softer but no less authoritative, "I can teach you to harness and control these effects." Her eyes searched his, seeking a hint of his willingness to cooperate.
In an unexpected surge of movement, Callum's hand shot out, fastening tightly around Sophia's throat. The sudden aggression caught her off guard. The atmosphere in the room grew thick with tension as the armed guards instantly tensed, their fingers hovering over their weapons, eyes sharp and focused on Callum. Sophia's eyes widened in shock but also reflected a calculated calm, gauging Callum's intent and calculating her next move.
"Stand down, I have this under control."
Sophia managed to rasp out those words, her voice strained but defiant. Her eyes never left Callum's, urging him to release his grip while signaling the guards to hold their positions. The room was a powder keg of tension, every movement and decision hanging in the balance.
In a surge of frustration, Callum's fist struck the wall, sending a muted thud echoing through the room. His eyes, blazing with fury, locked onto Sophia's.
"What's your game? Why are you so obsessed with my past, my memories? I want answers, now!"
Sophia, regaining her composure, took a deep breath and straightened her posture. The impact of his fist against the wall echoed in the silence that followed.
"We seek understanding, Mr. Lynch," she began, her tone steady. "The memories within you provide insights into history, events, and truths that have long been concealed. It's not about exploiting you, but about uncovering the vast tapestry of the past to better our future." She paused, searching his eyes for any sign of comprehension.
With a lingering intensity, Callum's gaze remained locked onto Sophia, but the pressure of his grip on her neck began to relent. Slowly, he released her, the burning anger in his eyes giving way to a glint of curiosity and uncertainty.
"Is it?" he asked, his voice laced with both skepticism and a hint of intrigue.
Aware of the gravity of his actions, Callum's stance softened slightly, the weight of his decisions pressing on him. The swirling mix of anger and curiosity was evident in his posture.
"I'll play along," he murmured, a begrudging concession in his voice. "But you owe me a full explanation."
Hunger gnawed at Callum, evident in the slight hollow of his cheeks and the weariness in his eyes. "I'm... hungry," he admitted, his voice a raspy murmur.
Sophia, maintaining her calm demeanor, extended a hand in a gesture of peace. "Then come with me," she responded softly, her eyes reflecting understanding and a hint of empathy.
Under the cold, watchful gaze of the armed guards, Callum found himself flanked on either side as they began to walk. The sterile, fluorescent lights overhead illuminated the sleek, modern design of the Abstergo facility. Their footsteps echoed in the vast, pristine corridor, creating a rhythmic cadence that contrasted with the tense atmosphere. Every so often, Callum would cast a wary glance at his escorts, their faces impassive behind visors, their grip firm on their weapons. The journey down the hallway felt both brief and interminable, a testament to the apprehension that lingered in the air.
The massive doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a vast room that stretched out before them. High ceilings towered overhead, and rows upon rows of shelves laden with documents, artifacts, and various relics spanned the entire length of the room. The dim ambient lighting cast the room in a soft blue hue, with specific items highlighted by focused beams of light.
Computer terminals and holographic displays were interspersed between the shelves, their screens flickering with streams of data and historical images. The hum of machinery and the soft whirr of cooling systems were the only sounds, giving the room an atmosphere of hushed reverence.
It was clear that this archive was a treasure trove of historical knowledge, holding secrets from various eras and civilizations. The meticulous organization and cutting-edge technology hinted at the importance and sensitivity of the information stored within.
Callum's gaze wandered, taking in the sheer magnitude of the room and its contents, while Sophia, with a sense of familiarity, began to lead him deeper into the archive.
"What is this?"
Sophia paused for a moment, allowing Callum to take in the grandeur of the room before responding, "This is Abstergo's Historical Archive, a repository of artifacts, documents, and memories we've collected over the years."
She gestured to the rows of shelves and the holographic displays. "Each item here tells a story, pieces of history that have been preserved and studied. With the help of the Animus, we don't just study history; we relive it."
Guided by Sophia, Callum was drawn to a particular glass billboard. Displayed on it was a detailed genetic timeline, intricately branching out like an elaborate family tree. As he skimmed the data, a particular image caught his eye – a photograph of him as a young boy.
Sophia, noticing his gaze, remarked, "That's you. This timeline traces your ancestral lineage. Every connection, every point represents a significant moment or individual from your past."
He took a moment, absorbing the sheer depth and breadth of the information before him, feeling the weight of countless generations behind him. The image of his younger self, juxtaposed against the vast web of history, evoked a mixture of awe and nostalgia.
"Why am I here?" Callum finally asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
Sophia took a deep breath, "Your DNA holds memories, secrets, and stories that Abstergo believes are invaluable. And we have the means to access them."
A silence settled between them, filled only by the soft hum of the high-tech equipment around. Callum's mind raced, trying to piece together the implications of what Sophia had just revealed.
Sophia, maintaining her composed demeanor, spoke with a certainty that was almost chilling. "We have an extensive profile on you, Cal. Medical records, psychological evaluations, even the unique mutations in your MAOA genes." She paused for a moment, letting the information sink in. "We're aware of your time in foster care and the juvenile detention centers. You're a living testament to the connection between genetics and predisposition to criminal behavior."
Callum's brows furrowed, confusion evident in his eyes. "How did you even locate me?"
Sophia responded, her tone matter-of-fact, "We've been tracing your bloodline for a considerable duration. Eventually, we identified Leopold. And upon your arrest, your DNA confirmed the connection."
Callum blinked, trying to process the information. "Leopold? he's my ancestor?"
Sophia looked directly into his eyes and nodded, "Your direct ancestor."
Sophia continued, her voice steady and filled with knowledge, "Leopold was a part of a lineage of Assassins. Originating from France, he was dispatched to Japan with a specific mission in mind: to aid the waning strength of the Tokugawa Shogunate. His skills and expertise were deemed invaluable during that tumultuous period."
As Callum meandered through the archive room, his gaze flitting over the vast array of information, he posed a casual question to Sophia. "You get out much?"
She replied with a smirk, "More than you."
Callum's gaze lingered on the sleek glass panel, each profile illuminated with precision, showcasing faces of varying ages and backgrounds. His fingers absentmindedly traced the edge of the panel as he tried to absorb the sheer magnitude of information before him. The realization that he wasn't alone in this twisted experiment made his heart race.
Turning slightly to face Sophia, with a mix of indignation and curiosity, he pointed towards the displayed faces and questioned, "These people," his voice tinged with a hint of accusation, "they're trapped here like me?"
Sophia, her posture composed and her expression unfazed by Callum's intensity, replied, "They're Assassins, bearing the legacy of their ancestors, much like you."
She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing slightly, then added, "There are also descendants of Onmyoji among them, a detail you're yet to grasp."
Callum's brow furrowed in confusion, the unfamiliar term echoing in his mind, "Onmyoji?"
Sophia took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the weight of the histories she was about to share. "Onmyoji," she began, "were ancient Japanese practitioners of the esoteric arts, master diviners and exorcists. Throughout history, they've held significant influence in the imperial courts, using their skills to advise emperors, quell malevolent spirits, and even alter the course of political events."
She walked over to another panel, this one showcasing intricate symbols and older, grainy photographs of individuals dressed in traditional Japanese attire. "Like the Assassins, the Onmyoji had their adversaries, often clashing with other factions that sought to misuse the spiritual realm for their own gain."
Callum's gaze followed Sophia's every move, absorbing the new information, his curiosity evident. "And their descendants are here? In Abstergo?" he inquired, trying to piece together how this ancient order fit into the larger puzzle.
Sophia nodded, her gaze firm. "Yes. Just as we're interested in the lineage of Assassins, we've found value in understanding the Onmyoji bloodline. Their unique connection to the spiritual world is... intriguing to our research."
Callum felt a chill down his spine. The vastness of Abstergo's ambitions became clearer with every revelation. How many more secrets did this place hold? How many more lives were entangled in this intricate web of history and power? The questions continued to mount, and with every answer, he felt both enlightened and ensnared.
Sophia continued, her voice carrying an undertone of caution, "The Assassins, Cal, throughout history, have often taken a more... direct approach in addressing what they perceive as threats. Unlike the Onmyoji, who primarily focused on the spiritual realm, the Assassins have a predisposition towards violence. They've been known to eliminate those they judge to be 'corrupted,' often acting as judge, jury, and executioner."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle as she looked directly into Callum's eyes, gauging his reaction. "It's a legacy that has consequences, and one that you, being of their bloodline, must come to terms with."
In the dimly lit room, Sophia's piercing gaze met Callum's, her voice adopting an icy edge. "You know you killed a man."
The ambient light caught the contours of Callum's face, emphasizing the firm set of his jaw and the shadows in his eyes. "A pimp," he shot back, the word dripping with scorn, suggesting a world of justification in that singular label. The air between them grew thick, charged with years of unspoken pain and choices made.
Sophia leaned in slightly, her intent gaze seeking the depths of Callum's soul. "And would you kill again?" The challenge in her voice was unmistakable.
Callum, unyielding, let his gaze wander for a moment to a photograph that rested on a polished wooden desk. It depicted a radiant family, their smiles untouched by the world's cruelties.
"Happy families," he observed, a trace of wistfulness in his tone, "She must be very proud."
Sophia's eyes darkened, her voice carrying a note of grief, veiled but discernible. "I wouldn't know. She was killed by an Assassin. Much like your mother was."
The weight of her words hung heavily as Callum gently cradled the frame, a myriad of emotions playing across his features. Setting it back with a reverence, he murmured, "Sorry."
With her usual analytical demeanor, Sophia continued to study him, every nuance of his expression cataloged. Callum's voice, thick with emotion, broke through, "My old man killed my mother."
Capturing the raw pain in his gaze, Sophia ventured, "How does that make you feel?"
His eyes, deep pools of anguish and anger, met hers directly. "Like killing him," he admitted, the simmering rage of a lifetime condensed into those few words.
Callum's gaze remained locked onto Sophia's, the intensity of their shared pain evident. Sophia took a deep breath, choosing her words with care, "We all have choices in how we deal with our pain. Either we let it dictate our lives, or we channel it." She gestured to the high-tech surroundings, her voice soft yet firm, "You chose the path of violence, while I found solace and purpose in science." The juxtaposition of their choices hung in the air, two sides of the same coin, shaped by trauma but defined by decisions.
As Callum's attention was drawn to a series of notes affixed to the glass billboard, his eyes settled on multiple depictions of an ornate red torii gate. Each image seemed to emanate an almost mystical allure, pulling him in. The intricate details of the gate, contrasted with the vibrant hue of red, hinted at a place of significance and mystery.
Sophia noticed the focus of his gaze and approached the board, her voice imbued with a hint of reverence, "It's the land of Gensokyo, Cal."
Sophia continued, her voice steady and filled with conviction, "And we believe it exists." The declaration brought an added layer of intrigue to the room. The very idea of such a place, previously relegated to myths and legends, being rooted in reality was enough to pique anyone's interest. Callum's eyes darted between the images of the Tori gate and Sophia, trying to gauge just how deep this revelation went.
Sophia paused, letting the weight of her words settle in before proceeding. The faint hum of electronics filled the silence, punctuated only by the distant murmur of activity elsewhere in the facility.
"Gensokyo," she began, moving closer to the display and pointing at the torii gates, "is said to be a sealed land, a place where myths, legends, and forgotten histories converge. It's a realm separate from our own, untouched by modernity."
Callum's skepticism was evident in his narrowed eyes and tight-lipped expression. "You're telling me that a place from fairytales is real, and Abstergo is interested in it?"
Sophia nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Precisely. Think about it, Cal. A land teeming with beings of power and ancient artifacts. The potential for knowledge, for advancements, is boundless."
Callum looked again at the images, absorbing the details. "So, what's the plan? Send me into the Animus to relive an ancestor's memories in Gensokyo?"
Sophia smirked, "In essence, yes. We believe that, through your lineage, we can access memories that lead to or intersect with Gensokyo. We just need to trace the right memory strand."
Sophia continued, her voice taking on a more somber tone, "But it's not the endgame. Gensokyo represents a nexus of histories, powers, and knowledge. For Abstergo, understanding and accessing that realm could be the key to advancements that we can't even begin to fathom."
She paused, looking directly into Callum's eyes, ensuring he grasped the gravity of her words. "But beyond the corporate interests, there's more at stake. We intend to reveal its existence to the entire world, for all to see."
Sophia's declaration echoed in the room, its weight palpable. The idea of unveiling a hidden realm to the world was staggering in its implications.
Callum's eyes widened, realizing the magnitude of Abstergo's ambition. "Reveal Gensokyo? To everyone? Don't you think there's a reason it's been hidden for so long?"
"For centuries, Callum, our predeseors have employed various methods — religion, politics, and lately, consumerism — to establish and maintain Order. Yet, the foundations we've built upon are starting to crack. People are growing skeptical, weary of the corporatization and privatization that has become so pervasive. We are in search of new paths, different solutions."
Callum's brow furrowed, processing Sophia's revelation. "And you believe Gensokyo holds the answer to this?"
Sophia nodded, her expression earnest. "Gensokyo remains untouched by our world's influences. It's a place of magic, tradition, and unique societal structures. By understanding Gensokyo, we might unearth insights into building a more harmonious world."
"In order to achieve our objective," Sophia began, her tone indicating the gravity of her next words, "we require the Apple of Eden."
With a purposeful motion, she picked up a sleek remote and activated a transparent screen. The pane lit up, casting a soft glow throughout the room.
Sophia began, her voice carrying the weight of generations of knowledge, "The Bible speaks of the Apple of Eden as the catalyst for humanity's first act of rebellion. However, our research suggests it's more than just a symbol. We believe it to be a relic from a bygone civilization, a key that sheds light on the very nature of human violence. There are numerous such artifacts scattered globally, but the one we seek stands apart. While many of these relics have the power to subdue and dominate the human mind, the one we're after possesses a dual nature: it can both control and awaken."
Sophia leaned slightly forward, capturing Callum's attention. "Your ancestor, Leopold, was the last known individual to have held this unique Apple of Eden," she explained, her gaze unwavering. "Its location has been lost to time, hidden away by him. We believe that, with your genetic memory and our technology, you can help us uncover its resting place."
The room was thick with anticipation, the weight of history and the promise of discovery pressing on Callum. Sophia's revelation linked his past to an artifact of immeasurable power and importance.
Callum shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Sophia's words sinking in. The air in the room grew heavier, filled with the significance of what was being asked of him.
Sophia continued, indicating the profiles displayed on the glass panel. "Many have come before you, descendants of different lines, each holding a piece of the puzzle in their ancestral memories."
Callum's gaze followed hers, looking at the faces and names of those who had been subjected to the Animus. There was a heaviness in his chest, realizing the magnitude of Abstergo's reach and the lengths they were willing to go.
"But none have come as close as you," Sophia continued, her gaze refocusing on Callum. "Your lineage, your connection to Leopold, makes you unique."
"I'm hungry," Callum murmured, the weight of the revelations momentarily pushing his physical needs to the forefront.
Sophia gave a nod of understanding, signaling to one of the guards. The armed figure stepped forward, positioning himself beside Callum.
"Let's get you something to eat," the guard intoned, guiding Callum gently by the arm. As they left the high-tech room, the door slid closed behind them, sealing away the labyrinth of information and leaving Callum with his thoughts and the echoing footsteps of their departure.