Disoriented and blinking against the harsh light, Lynch fought the urge to groan. His mouth felt like sandpaper, his throat parched. As he attempted to rise, the door hissed open, shattering the oppressive silence. He turned, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated, towards the shadowy figure silhouetted in the doorway.
The figure, shrouded in darkness, loomed large, flanked by the imposing silhouettes of armed guards. Their presence, a constant reminder of the power dynamics at play, sent a shiver down Lynch's spine.
"Good morning, Mr. Lynch," the researcher announced, their voice measured and devoid of emotion.
Lynch squinted, trying to pierce the shadows. The researcher remained shrouded in darkness, their voice the only tangible presence. The armed guards, lurking like silent predators, underscored the unspoken threat hanging in the air.
"Good morning," he replied cautiously, his gaze fixed on the unseen figure. The feeling of unease intensified, fueled by the guards' menacing presence.
Sensing his apprehension, the researcher stepped closer, their form emerging from the shadows. Dr. Sophia Rikkin stood before him, her features composed yet unreadable. Her attire, a stark contrast to the sterile environment, hinted at an air of authority yet unexpected warmth.
"I'm Dr. Sophia Rikkin," she introduced herself, her voice a blend of authority and an almost disarming gentleness, "responsible for leading all research activities here at Abstergo."
"Dr. Sophia Rikkin," Lynch acknowledged, his voice steady despite the tremor in his heart. He stole a glance at the guards before locking eyes with her again.
"What is this place? Where am I?" he demanded, a hint of urgency creeping into his voice.
"You're currently in the rehabilitation wing of the Abstergo Foundation, located in Hokkaido," Dr. Rikkin replied matter-of-factly, a hint of reassurance laced in her tone.
Lynch's eyes widened. Abstergo? He recognized the name, synonymous with a vast corporate empire spanning everything from pharmaceuticals to breakfast cereals. But rehabilitation? That was an unexpected twist.
"Abstergo?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his voice. "I thought they were just a corporation. What does a pharmaceutical giant have to do with rehabilitation?"
Dr. Rikkin's expression remained impassive, but a flicker of something, perhaps satisfaction at his recognition, flickered in her eyes.
"Abstergo is more than just a corporation," she explained, her voice taking on a deeper resonance. "We're deeply invested in research and development, particularly in the field of behavioral psychology and rehabilitation. Our programs aim to help individuals like yourself reintegrate into society and lead productive lives."
As the weight of his situation settled in, a slow grin spread across Lynch's face, morphing into a soft chuckle that bubbled up from within. It was a laugh tinged with disbelief and irony, the absurdity of the situation almost too delicious to be true.
Here he was, a former convict, now entrusted to one of the world's most powerful corporations, all under the guise of rehabilitation. The sheer ridiculousness of it all was almost comical, yet there was a twisted humor that he couldn't help but appreciate.
"With your help, Cal," Dr. Rikkin declared, her voice carrying conviction, "we can pioneer new ways to eradicate violence."
Eradicate violence.
The words echoed in the room, shattering the remnants of amusement in Lynch's eyes. Violence had been a constant companion throughout his life, as natural as breathing. It was effortless, almost casual, and came to him with disturbing ease. It had always been this way, ever since he could remember.
The idea tantalized him, igniting a flicker of hope within him. What if Dr. Rikkin could truly eradicate violence from the world? It seemed like a fantasy, too good to be true.
As Sofia Rikkin held his gaze, her enigmatic presence seemed to fill the room, radiating an undeniable calm certainty. Despite the gravity of their conversation, there was a serenity about her that was both captivating and reassuring.
Unconsciously, almost drawn by an unspoken understanding, Lynch rose from his bed. His eyes remained locked with Sofia's, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
"Follow me, please," Sofia instructed, her voice soft yet commanding as she gestured for him to follow. Turning on her heel, she led the way out of the room, her steps purposeful and confident.
As Lynch followed Sofia through the labyrinthine corridors, they eventually arrived at the recreation center. The double doors swung open, revealing a vibrant scene teeming with various activities. The energy in the air was electric, a sense of camaraderie and community that surprised and intrigued Lynch.
"We believe in a holistic approach to rehabilitation," Sofia explained, her voice competing with the lively din. "Physical exercise, creative outlets, and social interaction are all crucial components of the healing process."
Stepping onto the balcony, Lynch gazed out at the snow-capped mountains that dominated the landscape. Their serene presence offered a moment of tranquility amidst the facility's hustle and bustle.
"Quite a sight, aren't they?" Sofia remarked, her voice barely audible over the wind whipping around them.
Cal nodded, momentarily captivated by the majestic peaks. But the peace was shattered by the sound of heavy boots echoing through the corridor. He turned towards Sofia, a jolt of apprehension coursing through him.
"What's going on?" he demanded, his voice laced with concern.
Sofia's expression tightened, her eyes narrowing. Before she could respond, the doors burst open, revealing armed guards in crisp uniforms. Their arrival sent a wave of unease washing over Cal.
"What is it this time?" Sofia demanded, her voice laced with authority despite the tremor in her voice.
The lead guard, a stoic figure with a steely gaze, stepped forward. "Orders from HQ, Dr. Rikkin. Subject Lynch is to be transferred immediately."
Cal's heart hammered against his ribs. Transferred? Where? Why? A thousand questions swirled in his mind, unanswered and unsettling.
Sofia's jaw clenched, her composure momentarily breaking. "There must be a misunderstanding," she argued, her voice tight with tension. "We haven't completed the initial assessment."
But before Dr. Rikkin could say anything else, a swift, almost silent movement caught Cal's eye. One of the guards, barely perceptible in the dim light, raised a small, sleek device. Before Lynch could comprehend what was happening, a sharp prick grazed his arm.
A jolt of pain lanced through him, followed by a wave of dizziness that washed over him like a tidal wave. His vision blurred, the room tilting at an alarming angle. His legs buckled beneath him, and with a muffled thud, he collapsed onto the floor, unconscious.
As darkness consumed him, the last thing he registered was Dr. Rikkin's voice, laced with urgency and concern, echoing in the distance.
"Cal! What have they done?"