Children of the Virus

41: Mind's Betrayal

The gentle sound of his steady breathing and the faint hum of the inn's air filtration system accompanied Toshiro's peaceful slumber, providing a soothing backdrop to his dreams. His prosthetic arm, sleek and silver, rested on the polished wooden bedside table. A hint of a smile graced his lips as he delved deeper into the intricate dreamworld that awaited him. The soft golden glow of the setting sun bathed the room in a tranquil light, casting shadows that danced along the walls.

Whir-whir-whir! The sudden sound of a drone's blades pierced the tranquility, causing Toshiro's form to twitch beneath the sheets. He mumbled, his voice a sleepy blend of confusion and exhaustion. "Zo...mustn't get through..."

"Ren..." he whispered, reaching out in the dreamscape toward a mirage of her presence, "Luna...the plan must..."

But the words tangled in slumber's thick grasp, pulling him deeper rather than awakening him. The drone's noise melded into the backdrop of his subconscious mind, a mere echo among the symphony of imagined worlds.

***

Whoosh! A gust of cold air swept through the room, rustling the curtains and chilling Toshiro's skin. His eyes snapped open to darkness, the room an unfamiliar shade of gray. Instinctively, he reached out, finding the window ajar, its curtains dancing like specters in the chilled wind.

"Brr," he shivered, teeth chattering, as he breathed into his hand to generate some warmth. Sitting upright, his brow creased with concern. "I don't remember leaving that open." His gaze shifted to the ominous night outside. "Kura, what time is it?"

Kura hummed to life and announced like a reliable witness: "It's just after five in the morning."

"Damn it, Toshiro!" He berated himself for sleeping through the entire night.

"Kura, was the window open when I arrived?"

Kura remained silent.

Toshiro rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep and make sense of the situation. He climbed out of the bed, feeling the cold wooden floor beneath his feet. A sense of unease wriggled its way into his chest, growing with every second.

His heart thumped faster as he scanned the room, searching for any signs of intrusion. Kura remained untouched on the table, and nothing else seemed out of place. Yet something felt wrong, and Toshiro couldn't shake the feeling that he'd made a terrible mistake.

"Think, Toshiro, think," he muttered, running his hand through his disheveled hair. As he replayed the events, memories of a drone's hum surfaced, sending a shiver down his spine that wasn't from the cold. An unsettling realization dawned on him.

"Could a drone have been spying on me?" he whispered into the void, his voice hoarse with fear. "But why? How?" The questions hung in the air, unanswered, heavy with implications far greater than just a restless night's sleep.

Toshiro descended the creaking staircase, his feet finding the grooves of worn wood. The sweet fragrance of ma'amoul, with hints of dates and orange blossom water, wafted through the air as he entered the inn's dining area.

"Ah, good morning! Merry Christmas!" the innkeeper beamed from behind the counter, his voice carrying over the sizzle of breakfast on the griddle.

"Good morning," Toshiro replied, offering a small nod. His gaze lingered on the windowpanes, where frost traced delicate patterns.

"You're the first guest awake, and I just started cooking breakfast. If you wait a bit—"

"I'm not here for breakfast," he interjected, his voice steady despite the churn of unease within him. "Could you show me the security footage from the outside cameras? I think there might've been...an incident."