Dishonor From Nightmares

Chapter 39

Another prototype, a laptop tethered to electrophysiological probes, bridges the gap between science and the unknown.

Two 3D-printed nanotubes, a symbol of innovation that beckons toward the future.

In this room of wonders, Josh was surrounded by oddities that defied categorization. The artifacts hinted at stories, each waiting to be told, a chorus of enigmas that resonated in the air. As he stood amidst this tableau of curiosities, the boundaries of reality seemed to blur, and he was left with a profound sense of wonder and the unshakable feeling that every item held a tale just waiting to be unraveled.

In the middle of the room were old computers set up with various notes, both professional and not, sprawled across the room like the workers couldn't finish their work before being torn away from the room. Josh frowned softly, shaking his head before he looked up as something caught his eye in the far corner of the room. A massive 25-foot-long skeleton display of wings takes up the entire floor. Below it was a single box. "So they left you all alone here? Or are you the only thing here they were able to find?" Josh spoke to the crate, wiping his eyes that had teared up. "Fucking dusty in here, ain't it?" He grumbled to the box as he walked over.

Josh first remembered a figure talking with his mother, a figure with a Sandwich tern mask, a cloak resembling a mourning cloak butterfly, a white robe with a green sash with amber and silver jewelry. He was confused about what they were talking about as he watched them eating his animal crackers and apple juice, swinging his legs as he listened to them speak quietly.

The flickering orange flames roared through the dilapidated building, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Amid the chaos, a small figure huddled in the corner, tears streaming down Josh's soot-covered face. Young Josh, no older than five, was trapped and terrified as the inferno devoured the place he had once called home.

The smoke was suffocating, and Josh's small frame struggled to breathe. His cries for help were drowned out by the deafening crackling of burning wood. He had resigned himself to his fate when suddenly, a figure emerged from the smoke, a guardian angel in the chaos.

Strong arms reached out, and Josh was pulled from the fiery nightmare. It was a firefighter, face obscured by the thick ash and soot, but his eyes spoke of reassurance and determination. With Josh cradled in his arms, the firefighter made a daring escape, narrowly avoiding collapsing beams and burning debris. They emerged into the night, the burning building collapsing behind them.

The firefighter gently set Josh down, his eyes meeting the children, assuring him he was safe. It was a moment etched into Josh's memory when he was rescued from the jaws of death by a hero whose identity he would never know.

Years passed, and Josh found himself in the confines of an orphanage. The traumatic fire had left physical and emotional scars, but he grew resilient, fueled by the memory of the unknown hero who had saved his life. He often stared out the orphanage window, imagining that firefighter's strong arms and kind eyes.

In the orphanage, Josh forged friendships with other children who shared his longing for a family. They became his surrogate siblings, offering him desperately needed love and support. They celebrated birthdays with homemade cakes and shared secrets under the moonlit sky. The orphanage became a place of solace and heartache, a reminder of the family he had lost and the one he hoped to find.

As the years went by, Josh clung to the memory of his rescue, believing in the goodness of humanity. He dreamed of becoming a fighter himself, of being the hero who saved lives just as he had been saved.

The hero who had plucked him from the jaws of the inferno remained a faceless figure in his memories, but the impact of that rescue shaped Josh's life in ways he could never have imagined. He carried the flames of hope and courage ignited by that fateful night, determined to pay it forward and make a difference in the lives of others, just as he had been rescued from the burning building all those years ago.

The box was labeled "Tuhan's Cult clothing" Inside was a black sleeveless robe that billowed out like a skirt with pants underneath and a second robe that was white with sleeves but ended off like an apron; both of the materials had a waxy coating over the cotton fabric. Along with the robes were black leather gloves, black boots, and a short black cape that covered the shoulders and the upper part of their arms and narrowed off to a point right above their belly button. Strangely there were buttons on top of the collar, but the black helmet solved it, being a leather mask resembling a crow mask with shiny glass over the eye holes and the neck part of the mask that flared out with buttons to attach to the cape. Josh pulled them all out and sighed, frustrated at nothing under the clothes. After putting them back gently, he sighed, rubbing his head a bit defeated but took a step back to look at the name again and went over to the filing cabinets on the side where he came from. He walked over, noticing the numbering system, and groaned, annoyed, hitting his head against the cabinets. "Oh, of course, the thing that feels right doesn't have a number like everything else in this fucking room and this fucking building!" He growled softly, shaking his head. Nonetheless, he began to go through them.

To be on the safe side, Josh began searching and peeked inside every folder he could as he looked, "Mayflies, a cognitohazard hazard, musical, weird ass club, funky centipedes, Anomaly with turtles, weird crows, the fuck is with these animals out here?" He muttered to himself as he tore through the folders, getting increasingly haphazard as he looked, pictures of monochrome forests, a cyborg gorilla, and a cat falling on top of each other as Josh continued to look, heading for the second filing cabinet. "Weird ass event without details, memetic infection..." He sighed softly, quickly coming to an end and finding notes on the things inside the room but nothing on the Cult or the skeletal wing. Hitting his head in frustration against the cabinet, he took a deep breath. He gently began gathering up the files again, making sure he organized everything properly again and put them away correctly, muttering an apology to the folders, not even paying attention to the elevator dinging as its doors began opening up as Josh put away the last of the files in the proper spot.

"Ah, Josh, I see you've finally figured out how to get into the little storage floor here." Josh nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to see a man with brown hair and a greying beard standing in the elevator with his hands behind his back before walking inside. Accompanying him was a figure in a suit and an O5 mask that Josh felt was familiar to him. He cleared his throat, his hands still shaking, unaware they were messing around with him. "Don't you worry, Josh? The files you are looking for are here." The O5 member spoke in a thick Tehrani accent that Josh recognized as they held up a folder. Josh took a step forward to let his eyes adjust before being able to read "Tuhan's Cult" On the tab of the folder, and he relaxed. "What happens now that I've found this? Was this a little cat-and-mouse game where I get executed, and you all are bad? Or is this just something that isn't meaningful to anyone but me and will tell me what I am? Either way, this feels really cliche, and I don't think I like it." He stated with a slight frown making the brown-haired male chuckle, "Don't worry, Josh. We'll answer your questions. Just follow us; this room is a bit musty for my taste. My name is Edgar Holman. I'm the site director; Dr. O'Connell has told me a lot about you." Josh hesitated slightly but nodded in acceptance. "I don't see me having any other choice, so I guess I just have to follow you guys." He said, walking over and joining them back in the elevator as the door slowly closed on the musty room, the room dimming back down and returning to their former selves with Josh's footsteps in the dust being the only indication of someone visiting the forgotten floor.