Blinded by the combination of harsh lighting from the surface of the metallic box and the rays of light which now shone furiously into the depths of my currently burning eyes, I took a step back in agony. I knew well the radiating rays of light beaming through the window slowly crept the lengths of the wall behind me, only waiting to make a strike,- yet I still wasn't able to avoid it.
Squinting my eyes, still recovering from earlier, I looked down to the metal cube before me. Observing the maverick cube, I took time to acknowledge its craftsmanship; from the finely rounded edges and corners to its remarkable glossy shine finish, as well as what I took as strange patterns embedded around its sides. Curious about what kind of peculiar hobby would drive a person to take such meticulous care in refining a metal box, chipped at my mind like the ticking of a clock; its every tick driving my rampant inquisition a step further. Another question that my already perplexed mind troubled over was what kind of diligent person worked on this box and, more importantly, what its purpose was. It had to be for something I thought to myself as I picked it up to search the place I found it, the attic, for any clues.
