The guards had been alerted to Cal's imminent arrival, and Sofia had her team standing by. Both she and her father had observed the tense confrontation between Cal and his assailant.
Surprisingly, Sofia found herself pleased witnessing Cal resist what must have been the greatest temptation of his life: a swift act of violence that would have satisfied his thirst for revenge.
She dared to hope that she had reached him; that despite the suffering he endured, both within and outside these walls, he had listened to her. Cal's decision to walk away from his father instead of succumbing to the urge to take his life was a sign that he could learn to transcend the violence ingrained in his very being.
If Cal could change, so could other Assassins. Once they obtained the Apple, a combination of genetic manipulation and directed therapy could pave the way for a world free from violence. Her life's work, her faith, all she had dedicated herself to for years, would finally be vindicated.
Yet, despite her optimism, faint traces of doubt lingered within her as she watched Cal enter the room. With a swift motion, he removed his shirt, seemingly shedding his identity as a patient.
Was it a rejection of being treated as less than human? Or was he simply weary of anything associated with the Templars' control over him?
His eyes met hers, and to her surprise, her heart skipped a beat. The Callum Lynch before her now appeared utterly transformed from the scattered, enraged, and frightened man who had first entered the Animus just a short while ago.
He moved with the grace of an Assassin now, she realized; smoothly, confidently, and proudly. He exuded certainty in his actions, confidence in his abilities. It was undeniably attractive... and yet, it sparked a flicker of alarm within her.
Doubt began to creep into her thoughts once more, causing her to withdraw even as she yearned to connect further with him. She wanted to express her gratitude for his courage and determination.
Cal approached the overhanging arm with the poise of a boxer entering the ring or a samurai bowing to his adversary.
"Put me in," he said, his tone not a request but almost an imperative.
"Prepare the Animus for voluntary regression," Sofia instructed Alex, her gaze shifting between Cal with wariness and hope. She observed as the Black Cross himself extended the gauntlets, and Cal effortlessly slid his arms into them, never breaking eye contact with Tadakuni.
"Do you know how the Assassins came to be named?" Tadakuni's typically taciturn demeanor surprised Sofia.
Cal remained silent as the Black Cross continued. "From an Arabic word, 'hashashin.' They were society's outcasts—thieves, murderers. People called them rebels, criminals. But they were wise."
Behind Cal, Alex secured the arm to the belt around Cal's waist.
"They used this reputation to conceal a dedication to principles beyond even their most formidable adversaries. And for that, I admire them. But..." Tadakuni paused, his gaze fixed on Cal's face. Then the question came.
"Are you?"
Cal held Tadakuni's stare as he reached behind him, grabbing the epidural unit from Alex's hands. Startled, Alex glanced at Sofia, who signaled him not to intervene.
"Let's find out," Cal replied.
With only the faintest flinch, Cal plunged the epidural unit into the base of his own skull.
You screamed the first time, Cal. And I know how badly it hurts.
There was a whining, mechanical hum as the arm lifted Cal into the air. This time, Cal's body was relaxed, at ease with everything happening. When the arm reached the proper height, it dropped slightly, settling into position.
Cal snapped each wrist with a familiar flick, activating his hidden blades. With the light playing over his bare chest and catching the determined, almost grim set of his face, he looked more like Aguilar than Callum Lynch.
What if he is?
"Commencing regression," Alex announced, back at his station.
Sofia stepped out onto the floor in her usual supervisory position, her eyes raised to Cal's. As he looked at her, his face softened slightly.
Sofia's history had not predisposed her to trust easily, or even show warmth. But she wanted to say something to Cal, to thank him for his cooperation, to reassure him that yes, this was the right choice, for him, for humanity... for Templars... and Assassins.
Words crowded her mouth, and Sofia couldn't speak for a moment. Finally, haltingly, her voice thick and trembling, she managed, "This is my life's work."
Cal gazed at her, kindly but unsmiling.
"This is my life," he said.
She continued to gaze at him raptly, fearful and joyous and tense with anticipation, and then he was in.
Edo Castle, the Shogunate's seat of power, stood under siege. Imperial forces had formed an iron ring, leaving its inhabitants trapped. Saigo Takamori, victorious in the recent battle of Kōshū-Katsunuma, led his triumphant troops. The enemy was systematically eliminated, with scattered Assassin outposts across the city razed to the ground, their influence wiped clean. Any captured members met a cruel fate, their heads displayed as a gruesome emblem of conquest. It seemed victory demanded such a price.
Edo Castle, bearing the heavy cost of resistance, finally yielded to the inevitable pressure of the Imperial forces. Surrender, the only remaining option, led to the castle gates swinging open. The victorious army, under the Emperor's banner, marched in, ready to claim their ultimate prize.
At the forefront of the procession rode Saigo Takamori, flanked by a sea of soldiers. His expression, resolute as he sat atop his horse, betrayed the weight of his responsibility. Beside him rode the formidable Templars, their Black Crosses an ominous symbol of tightening control.
Leopold and Suika Ibuki, perched atop a fortified wall, watched the enemy's steady advance. From their vantage point, they observed the Imperial troops meticulously closing in. Hidden within the besieged walls lay the Apple of Eden, its significance known only to a chosen few who guarded it fiercely.
A movement from Leopold drew Suika's attention. He held his hands behind his neck, uttering, "For the Creed."
Suika noticed the necklace he offered, a gesture laden with meaning. He was entrusting it to her.
Hesitantly, Leopold extended his hand, allowing the necklace to rest in his palm as Suika spoke. His eyes traced the symbol: an eight-sided star with a diamond center, etched with the curved blade-like letter A of the Creed.
"Our lives are fleeting," he said, his voice echoing in the quiet space. "What matters is the legacy we leave behind."
Suika's playful demeanor softened slightly as she grasped the weight of his words. While she embraced life with boundless enthusiasm, she understood his seriousness.
"Woah there, Leppy-poo! Don't go all gloomy on Suika now!" Suika interjected, pouting playfully. "Think of all the fun we've had together so far! All the fights, all the sake... we gotta make more memories, right? Besides, who knows, maybe this whole thing will turn into one of Suika's legendary adventures! We'll outsmart those stuffy soldiers, grab that fancy apple thingy, and then celebrate with the biggest sake party Gensokyo has ever seen!"
Despite Leopold's somber words, Suika's response reflected her optimistic outlook. She saw every moment as an opportunity for adventure and joy, refusing to dwell on future uncertainties. She embraced the present, finding pleasure in the simple joys of friendship, laughter, and of course, sake!
However, Leopold offered no false reassurance. As an Assassin, he understood the precariousness of their existence. Every moment was a gamble, death a constant companion in their perilous journey. Even now, it loomed large.
He wanted someone to remember.
His gaze locked with hers, and Suika's grip tightened around the object in her hand.
"Alright, alright," Suika conceded, a hint of seriousness creeping into her voice. "We'll do what we gotta do. But promise me, Leppy-poo, after all this is done, we'll find the biggest sake brewery in all of Japan and have a celebration worthy of heroes!"
The Assassin and the Oni took their positions, waiting. Patience and stillness, their Mentor Hidemaru had once taught them, were as crucial as action and swiftness. An Assassin had to master them all.
Uncertain of how long it took, Leopold finally saw the serpentine procession of Imperial soldiers reach the main keep. Saigo stepped inside the Tenshu, the towering central structure, entering the heart of the castle and the Lord's chambers.
Katsu Kaishū found himself with few alternatives. Realizing the dire circumstances and the futility of further resistance, Katsu began to seriously consider the terms of surrender. He understood that negotiating a surrender was the best course of action to avoid further loss of life. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but he understood that further resistance would only result in devastation for the city and its inhabitants.
Kaishū was regarded as a stalwart and astute figure in the shogun's administration, known for his strategic acumen and diplomatic finesse. His countenance bore the marks of years of experience and wisdom, with sharp, observant eyes that seemed to pierce through the turmoil of the times. His hair, once jet-black, now showed streaks of silver, a testament to the burdens he carried. Kaishū wore traditional attire befitting his station, with a katana at his side, though its presence was more symbolic than utilitarian in the current context. Despite the gravity of the situation, his demeanor remained composed, betraying none of the inner turmoil he surely felt as he contemplated the difficult decision ahead.
They and their people had fought bravely and with honor, but all knew the battle was over now. All save one final act.
"Katsu," said Saigo, his voice smooth and pleasant. "I come in peace."
Kaishū regarded Takamori with a mix of weariness and curiosity. His features, weathered by years of service to the shogunate, betrayed little emotion as he listened to Saigo's words.
"Edo is ours," he declared, matter-of-factly. "But provide me with what I seek," he continued, "and your men will live."
"The Imperial army claims this city in the name of the Emperor. Japan shall be united under his rule. Now surrender the Apple. Your Assassin protectors are gone. They cannot save you. The Creed is finished," he proclaimed with authority.
For a long moment, Leopold anticipated Kaishu's response, half expecting him to refuse the command. Kaishu had been a loyal friend to the Assassins, and they to him. But he had not sworn, as Leopold himself had, to place nothing and no one before the Creed.
In the end, as the Assassin and Youkai expected, Kaishu could not sacrifice the lives of those under his command for another's ideal. With a heavy heart, he lowered his head and turned away, walking deeper into the Tenshu. His steps seemed burdened, as if the weight of his decision had suddenly aged him twenty years.
Leopold and Suika swiftly traversed the rooftops, reaching a skylight and peering down into the courtyard below. Both of them seemed eager for combat, though the time for such action had not yet arrived.
Following Kaishu through a series of corridors, they entered an inner chamber adorned with intricate wooden carvings. Soft light filtered in through shoji screens, casting a gentle glow on the tatami mats below. The walls were adorned with painted scrolls depicting scenes of nature and traditional Japanese motifs.
Coming to a stop before an ornately decorated alcove, the Tokugawa commander pressed his hand against a hidden panel. With a soft click, a small drawer slid open, revealing a chest crafted from polished wood and adorned with intricate metalwork.
"Now, release my men," Kaishu demanded firmly, his gaze unwavering as he locked eyes with Saigo.
Takamori made a subtle gesture to the Black Crosses standing behind him. Without hesitation, one of them pivoted and transmitted the command to the waiting Imperial army stationed just beyond the castle walls. Despite the activity around him, Kaishu remained focused, his attention fixed solely on Saigo.
The Tokugawa commander held the chest out in front of him, its weight a solemn burden in his hands. An entourage of Onmyoji, their robes flowing behind them, stepped forward to assist him. With practiced reverence, the lead Onmyoji approached and eased open the chest, revealing its mysterious contents to the gathered assembly.
The Onmyoji reached inside the exquisitely carved box, their movements deliberate and careful. With a hushed anticipation, they drew out the Apple of Eden, cradling it in their hands as if holding the very essence of power itself.
It was beautiful, a perfect sphere gleaming with a deep, captivating red hue. Like a giant gem, it radiated an aura of undeniable allure as the Onmyoji reverently held it up to Saigo.
"Here lies the seed of man's first disobedience," the Onmyoji proclaimed, "of free will itself."
"The Apple of Eden," Sofia thought, almost dizzy from the importance of what she was bearing witness to. Her life, her whole life, ever since she had been able to comprehend the concepts of DNA and the potential to manipulate the gene that controlled violence, had been spent in search of this.
It was for this moment that she had forced her heart to harden to what she had to do. This precious relic was the key to healing humanity.
It was the Artifact to the Templars, as she had told Cal, and the Apple to the Assassins.
But for Sofia Rikkin, scientist, it was the Holy Grail.
The air crackled with a tension even thicker than the sake Suika had ever tasted. Below, the Templars stood enthralled by the Apple, their faces slack with awe at its power. Time to crash the party!
"Alright, Leppy-poo," Suika rumbled, adjusting the straps of her giant sake gourd. "Looks like it's showtime! Get ready for a little surprise, these guys won't know what hit 'em!" she whispered, a playful glint in her eyes.
Leopold nodded, his expression grim. Years of partnership forged a bond deeper than words, allowing them to communicate unspoken strategies.
Suika took a deep breath, focusing her immense power. Reaching out with her mind, she selected a cluster of Templar soldiers near the entrance. With a mischievous grin, she began to manipulate their density.
"Density down!" Suika whispered, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Let's see how well they handle shrinking down a size!"
The air around the soldiers shimmered as their forms began to shrink. Helmets felt loose, armor became cumbersome, and their once-intimidating stride transformed into a comical waddle. Surprised gasps and bewildered shouts erupted from the bewildered soldiers as they struggled to maintain their balance.
One soldier, now the size of a child, stumbled and fell, his helmet rolling across the ground like a misplaced toy. Laughter erupted from the surrounding guards, a moment of levity amidst the chaos.
Capitalizing on the distraction, Suika shifted her focus, locking onto a group of Omnyoji chanting near Saigo. However, her movements were quicker than anticipated. The Omnyojis, their senses attuned to the slightest disruption, instantly felt a shift in the invisible fabric of reality. Their heads snapped towards Suika, their eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"There!" one of the Omnyoji barked, his voice laced with urgency. "The source of the disturbance! Disrupt her!"
Without hesitation, the Omnyojis launched into action. Their movements flowed in practiced precision as they weaved intricate patterns in the air with their hands. Ancient chants rolled off their tongues, their words materializing as shimmering glyphs and pulsating energy fields that surged towards Suika.
Reacting in kind, Suika slammed her hand down on the rooftop, her immense strength sending shockwaves rippling outwards. The energy fields collided with the shockwaves, exploding in a blinding flash of light and a deafening boom that echoed through the courtyard.
In the ensuing chaos, Suika cackled with delight, "Looks like these guys brought the party favors after all!" she roared, her voice barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
Undeterred, the Omnyojis regrouped, their resolve hardened. One by one, they leaped into the air, their forms blurring as they ascended towards Suika, intent on stopping her interference.
Meanwhile, amidst the smoke and confusion, Leopold used the opportunity to his advantage. He darted towards Saigo, his movements a blur as he closed the distance. With a swift, practiced motion, he disarmed him, snatching the Apple before the leader could react.
"Checkmate, Saigo Takamori," Leopold said, his voice cold and unwavering.
