Fury bubbled within Sofia, threatening to boil over. But mindful of her audience, she forced it down, her voice laced with icy calm as she addressed Tadakuni Sousaku. Turning, she met his unwavering gaze, his imposing figure filling the room with an air of silent authority.
Of course, it would be Tadakuni. None of the other guards dared to intervene after her explicit instructions to leave Cal alone. Sofia's jaw clenched with suppressed frustration as she confronted the defiance in his demeanor.
"It was I who was overseeing his progress," she stated icily, the words laced with both frustration and a subtle threat.
"Your father wishes him in the Animus,"Tadakuni replied simply, his voice devoid of emotion.
Naturally. When Father spoke, everyone heeded. Sofia had long grown weary of this dynamic, but now it had escalated beyond mere annoyance, suggesting a doubt in her capabilities. It was clear that this interference was impeding their shared goals, hindering her efforts to achieve the desired outcomes.
"He's my patient. This is my program," Sofia asserted firmly, her gaze unwavering as she locked eyes with the Black Cross. She was acutely aware of his position, the feared inquisitors of the Templar Order known for purging its own ranks. Despite this knowledge, she harbored no illusions about the power dynamics at play; this was a classic struggle for dominance, and she was resolute in maintaining her position as alpha over Tadakuni.
And he wasn't alone in observing. It was unwise of him to have challenged her in front of the patients. Most of them didn't care, but the few who did were all present, their gazes flitting back and forth between Sofia and Tadakuni, taking in every subtle shift in body language and tone, as the atmosphere crackled with tension.
Sofia was keenly aware that her father was watching from the screens in his office. He was always watching when he was on the premises. She loved her father and respected his opinion, but she wished that he would demonstrate that he felt similarly.
Cal had undergone a traumatic ordeal and had only recently recovered. He was not only mentally unprepared for what lay ahead but also physically unfit. He was still recovering from the effects of the toxin that had brought him dangerously close to death, allowing him to be smuggled out of prison.
Sofia's plan had been to give the newcomer time to adjust, to understand the value of the work she was doing here, its importance not only to humanity but also to him personally.
Her father, however, had arrived from London determined to accelerate things, although he had not yet explained why.
Sofia had hoped that Cal would come around willingly, to work with them rather than simply for them. But Alan Rikkin, the CEO, had forced her hand, as always.
Tadakuni simply stared expressionlessly at her. He knew he would win. And Sofia knew it, too.
Finally, with a bitter taste in her mouth, she said, "Prepare the Animus."
Cal drifted in and out of consciousness as he was dragged down the hall, one burly orderly on each side. His head lolled back as he tried to make sense of this new room through a drugged haze. Everything about this place – no, he had a name for it now, the Hokkaido Abstergo Foundation – was bizarre, incomprehensible, and Cal knew enough to distinguish between the effects of the drug and reality.
First, the hospital, impossibly sterile. Then the strange blend of ancient Japanese and modern corridors and rooms through which he had stumbled. The rooftop garden and the not-quite-zombies who inhabited it, perched so high above the ground as to be eye to eye with eagles.
But this… temple, was the first thing that came to his mind, although he had seldom ventured into one. The tatami floor was adorned with intricate patterns, and the central area was wide, encircled by sliding paper doors on the ground level and on a second, higher level. The overall effect was reminiscent of a labyrinth. Dimly, Cal glimpsed painted scrolls on the walls, faded by more than his fuzzy vision. Sunlight filtering through paper windows merged with the soft glow of lanterns, reflecting off display cases housing artifacts from ancient times – katana, yumi, tanto – glimpsed blearily in passing.
Off to the sides that surrounded the open space in the center, though, everything was modern. Cal saw screens alive with strange symbols, blinking lights, and a sense of focus that dredged up another word to describe the strange scenario: Laboratory.
What, then, did that make him? A third orderly hurried over to join the two who still grasped Cal firmly by each arm. This new arrival swiftly fastened a heavy canvas belt around Cal's waist, and he couldn't help but notice the buckle form the unmistakable shape of the letter A.
Panic surged through him. A chain was a chain, whether made of metal links or adorned with a shiny letter. Cal's gaze shot up frantically to meet Sofia's even stare. In those cool blue eyes, there was no hint of explanation.
"Are the blades prepared?" she asked. It took Cal a second to realize that she wasn't speaking to him, but to one of her attendants standing over a collection of monitors and keyboards in the alcove area.
"Right here," a young bearded man said. He moved from the twenty-first century back to the fourteenth by stepping from his monitors to one of the display cabinets and handing something off to two orderlies, or lab assistants, or whatever the hell they were.
"And we've confirmed their provenance?" Sofia continued, her tone measured and focused. "They definitely belonged to Leopold, recovered from his burial site."
Burial site? Who were these people, grave robbers? Cal's mind raced with questions, but Sofia had urged him to trust her, promising that everything would eventually make sense. Yet here he was, injected with a dart like some wild animal, and forcibly brought into this temple-like chamber where nothing seemed to add up.
As Sofia spoke, lab assistants moved about the room, each carrying strange gloves or gauntlets. Cal's heart pounded as the two men holding him tightened their grip, forcing the unfamiliar leather contraptions onto his hands.
He looked up at Sofia, his senses muddled and his mind swirling with alarm. "What are these?" he grunted, his resistance feeble against the overwhelming force of the situation. The leather gloves felt ancient, emitting a musty scent that stirred vague memories within him.
"These relics and your DNA will allow us embodied access to your ancestral lineage," Sofia replied calmly, her words only adding to Cal's confusion.
"What?" Cal's voice was filled with disbelief. The concept seemed utterly nonsensical to him, a jumble of words that refused to form a coherent meaning.
Ignoring his protests, Sofia turned her attention back to her assistants, issuing instructions with unwavering focus. "Assume final preparations. Our regression: Kyoto, 1861. Record everything."
Screens sprung to life, illuminating the dim space with flickering images and cryptic symbols. Cal's eyes darted around, trying to make sense of the blueprints and data displayed on the screens, but everything seemed as incomprehensible to him as a foreign language.
"Arm's ready," one of Sofia's assistants announced, breaking the tense silence that hung in the air.
Cal's heart raced as he heard the ominous sound of machinery whirring overhead. With the drug's effects wearing off, he watched in horrified clarity as a massive mechanical device descended from the ceiling. It moved with a deceptive grace, unfolding itself like a giant metallic serpent awakening from slumber.
As the mechanical arm clicked into place behind him, Cal felt a surge of primal terror wash over him. His body tensed involuntarily, his mind struggling to comprehend the surreal scene unfolding before him.
"What is this?" he managed to choke out, his voice laced with fear and confusion.
She looked at him with an angel's face, but her gaze faltered, unable to hold his eyes. Sofia's voice carried genuine regret as she spoke, "I'm sorry, Cal. This is not how I like to do things."
"Then don't do it!" Cal pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice.
A primal instinct surged within him, warning him that if Sofia proceeded with her intentions, he would never be the same again.
Sofia met his gaze once more, her eyes reflecting both sorrow and determination. "Insert epidural," she commanded.
Cal felt ten tiny points of metal descend upon his neck, resembling the legs of a mechanical insect. Before he could react, a sharp, agonizing pain pierced the base of his skull.
He screamed, the pain surpassing anything he had ever experienced before. It was torture, pure and simple.
As quickly as it had come, the pain began to recede, leaving Cal gasping for air and struggling to comprehend his surroundings. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice laced with fury and confusion.
Sofia remained calm and composed, her gaze unwavering. "Your past," she replied simply.
"My past...?" Cal echoed, his mind reeling with disbelief.
In that moment of chaos and uncertainty, a random memory surfaced in his mind: the faint strains of Patsy Cline's "Crazy" playing on an old radio many years ago.
"I'm going insane," Cal thought, feeling the grip of madness tightening around his mind. "Crazy."
He looked down at Sofia, his panic escalating to a primal level. Sensing his distress, Sofia's demeanor shifted, her voice taking on a soothing tone. "Listen to me carefully, Cal. You are about to enter the Animus."
The word struck him like a thunderbolt. As a teenager, Cal had heard rumors about Abstergo Entertainment's expensive software that allowed users to relive memories of their ancestors. He had even stolen copies of the software to sell to kids who craved the thrill of virtual violence.
But this? This monstrous contraption before him, with its menacing mechanical arm, bore no resemblance to the harmless video game consoles he had encountered. It was like something out of a twisted nightmare.
As Sofia spoke, Cal's attention snapped back to her. "What you are about to see, hear, and feel are the memories of someone who has been dead for almost two hundred years."
In that moment, Cal realized that Sofia had been slowly backing away from him. Fear surged through him, and he reached out imploringly to her, desperate for the human connection she had offered amidst the chaos. She was the one who had placed him in this terrifying apparatus, and yet she was also his only lifeline in this surreal nightmare.
"Wait a minute!" Cal pleaded, but it was too late. He was suddenly hoisted into the air, suspended like a puppet in the grasp of the monstrous arm. Helpless and vulnerable, he dangled as the arm moved him about with effortless power, as if he were nothing more than a plaything in its grasp.
"You must understand that you can't change what happens, Cal," Sofia's voice cut through the whirring of the machinery. "Try to stay with the images. If you attempt to change anything, or try to break away, this could be dangerous for you. Stay with the memories."
Since the traumatic day when he had discovered his mother's lifeless body and faced his father's murderous intent, Cal had been fiercely determined to retain control over his own fate. Even in prison, he had clung to a semblance of autonomy. But now, the mechanical arm and the enigmatic woman controlling it had stripped away his agency in mere seconds. And Cal couldn't shake the foreboding sense that they intended to take more from him than he ever realized he had to lose.
More mechanical whirring filled the air as the arm manipulated him according to Sofia's commands. Cal felt a wave of disorientation wash over him as myriad lenses pressed against his face, scanning his memories with relentless precision. Meanwhile, other bizarre devices descended around him, their ominous movements accompanied by unsettling clicking sounds.
Desperate, Cal tore his gaze away from the machines, searching for some semblance of humanity amidst the sterile surroundings. Sofia stood below him, her face upturned, her expression unreadable as she oversaw the invasive procedure.
"Status?" Sofia inquired, her gaze still fixed on Cal, who felt a strange sense of connection despite the circumstances.
"Monitoring blood flow and neural activity… DNA match identified," one of Sofia's team members reported.
Bathed in the soft blue glow of the chamber, Sofia offered a reassuring smile to Cal. "Stay with it, Cal," she encouraged, her words carrying a hint of genuine concern amidst the clinical environment.
"Scanning DNA chains, searching for timeframe," another voice chimed in.
The mechanical arm moved Cal with surprising gentleness now, guiding him through the intricate process of memory extraction. Though still apprehensive, Cal found himself growing accustomed to the sensation, his initial panic giving way to a sense of uneasy acceptance.
"First memory match locked," announced one of the assistants.
"Ego integrity?" Sofia inquired, her brow furrowing with concern.
"Optimal," came the response from a female voice.
"Attempt synchronization," Sofia ordered, her attention unwavering.
"First ancestral link is complete. We've found Leopold," another assistant reported.
Without intending to, Cal flicked his wrists, activating blades hidden within the gauntlets. He stared at them in bewilderment, the reality of his situation sinking in.
"Ego integrated," the female voice echoed, sounding distant.
Cal felt a strange urge to close his eyes, to shut out the surreal scene unfolding around him. Hesitantly, he obeyed, surrendering to a sense of calm that washed over him like a gentle tide.
"Synchronization achieved," confirmed the male voice.
Then Sofia's voice, soothing and melodic, broke through the tranquility. "There!"
In that moment, Cal found himself at peace, a still point amidst the chaos. It was a fleeting sensation, yet profoundly serene.
Slowly, he reopened his eyes, his fear replaced by a newfound sense of anticipation.
"Commence regression," Sofia instructed.
"Regression in progress."
And then Cal was dropped.
The tatami floor rushed up to meet him, his stomach churning violently as he descended. As if in a dizzying freefall, the ground seemed to open up beneath him, engulfing him in a fiery, churning tunnel of blinding light. In an instant, the intense brightness dimmed, giving way to a dusty atmosphere, and Cal found himself gazing down upon a sprawling city painted in hues of gold tan, and bronze.
Every detail of the cityscape unfolded before him with astonishing clarity, more than his eyes could reasonably take in. Smoothly gliding over the landscape, Cal was struck by a peculiar sense of familiarity, reminiscent of the eagle that had soared overhead on that fateful day long ago. It was a day when his biggest worry had been how to explain the damage to his bike and himself, before his life had been shattered.
As the memory of that day and all that was Callum Lynch faded into the vastness of the vision before him, he surrendered to the profound enormity of the moment, much like the eagle that had once graced the sky above him.