Armored Train to Centaphalas
I could hear the thudding footsteps of people walking around or the distant hum of machinery somewhere. But the waiting room I was in felt so quiet that those sounds seemed to come from incredibly far away. No shortness of breath, no chills running down my spine. Honestly, that scared me more. It was like something weird insisting to everyone around that it wasn't weird at all.
But I'd already looked, so I had to do what needed doing. I gave a slight nod by way of greeting, and she nodded back in silent acknowledgment. I slowly turned my head forward again. Please just be someone with a unique vibe.
The waiting room was silent. Straight ahead, a bit upward—from a screen hanging from a pole on the ceiling—ads flickered intermittently. Otherwise, the only things to look at were the train's arrival time and the current time. Someone, give me a smartphone. I wasn't sure if they called it exactly the same here, but I knew something similar existed. Once I got to school and settled in, I'd get a part-time job or whatever to scrape one together somehow! Of course, I'd have to ace my classes too. Not just pass, but get top grades so I could use them to land a job in the city.
Announcement: The Centaphalas-bound Armored Train No. 3-256 will arrive at Platform 2 shortly. Passengers boarding, please step back behind the yellow line.
No fun stuff back in the village, so all I knew was how to brood. That's why my target time arrived before I knew it. I checked my ticket one more time. Two tickets. One to the capital, Centaphalas. The other from the capital to Pristine Comprehensive University. And the Centaphalas one matched the train name from the announcement just now. In other words, I'd need to transfer. But it'd work out somehow. I stood, grabbed my bag with the acceptance letter and other stuff, and left the waiting room for the platform.
Click-clack. Sharp footsteps echoed behind me. The woman who'd sat next to me earlier was following. I could vaguely guess why. She'd seemed weirdly keen to sit near me, so if she'd gotten her ticket around the same time and wasn't in some fancy special seat, she'd be nearby. Same door too, probably.
Then a faint vibration rumbled from beyond the stairs. Not the building shaking—just the heavy thrum of something massive on the move. Moments later, it appeared: a train that looked like a spaceship from a movie, sleek cannons mounted on the front, slowing to a stop. The thick mana stones along its sharp-edged body resonated, the mana field shaking not just my ears but my whole body. Once it settled fully, I saw the passenger cars—less like rectangular boxes, more like octagonal pillars laid on their sides.
I'd planned to line up nicely before it stopped completely, but as I approached, the people already waiting hesitated and stepped back. Some gasped and retreated; others stiffly turned and left. I knew why. Not me—it was the person behind me!
Whoever was back there clearly wasn't targeting me. Hell, in this world, I was just some country bumpkin. No grudges or enemies, and my home village in Rubella was as ordinary as they come, far from that kind of drama. Thinking that, I lined up behind a tired-looking bear of a man, but suddenly his face lit up—or rather, it was the desperate spark of life his body squeezed out to survive. Tragic. He'd been half-passed out, then spotted the person behind me, jolted awake, and fled.
Was this okay? Should I just cry and run? Nah, but up ahead was the internet! No giving up. I'd face any adversity or hardship!
As I steeled myself, the wall—made of some weird fibrous material, not plastic or metal—split open, and a door descended from above. Eerily quiet. You stepped on the door to go up; stairs inside, and next to them a call button for the disabled, maybe. Stepping carefully, it felt less like solid flooring and more like carpet. Cool, I thought as I boarded. Now it looked familiar: a decently spacious area with a bathroom and a small snack bar. One side led to the next car; the other to the seats. Weird part? Two doors?
I opened one. The cabin was huge—two aisles, three pairs of seats each. Way bigger up close than it looked outside. I found my spot quick: second row, middle. Yeah, front row's usually prime real estate.
Sitting down, my body sank right in—not just settled, engulfed. Armrests a stretch away, legs dangling. Built for big folks, I guess. But plush, not bad. Pull out the footrest, and my feet reach. Real issue? The scary lady from before sat across the aisle, one seat over. People boarding after us passed with grim determination—some even detoured to the other aisle, faces pale. Made my heart pound harder. I knew she was scary for reasons I didn't get!
Suppressing the urge to scream, there was a jolt and a faint shake. Surprisingly smooth—no real impact. Trailers back home bumped worse. Figured this bulky beast wouldn't be comfy, but the tech must be top-notch. The train departed.
——Whirrrrrrr.
I'd dozed off against the seat when the train slowed. Already there? I looked around; through the tiny distant window, just vast wilderness and a road peeking by the tracks. What the—?
Passenger Announcement: Our train has stopped temporarily due to a mana beast herd on the tracks. Chance of combat is low; we will resume once they move. Apologies for the inconvenience—please wait a moment.
As if answering my question, a clear voice broadcast the explanation. Curious what others thought, I twisted around. Some stood in panic; others slept on, merged with their seats. A few bored faces among the sitters—this must be routine for regulars. Panickers were newbies like me, who rarely rode trains. I nudged my bag on the floor with my foot to check it, then reclined.
Oh right—transfer! I yanked the tickets from my wallet. Plenty of time between the first arrival and second departure—over three hours. Phew. Good. I shoved them back and sat up.
"At this time of year, the only beasts herding nearby would be phantom illusions or sawblade antelopes..."
A rough voice, mismatched to her looks. Glancing back: arms crossed, lounging deep in her seat. Her stark white hair pristine, not a strand mussed; between half-lidded eyes, gears turned in her cross-shaped pupils—eerie as hell.
"Phantom illusions are cowards; sawblade antelopes would charge to sharpen their horns on something this solid." She uncrossed her arms and approached the window. "Nope, neither. Livestock, then. Wool color says Prinheader? Ivindish? Prinheaders can't survive this region. Hmm. Yeah, there's a wool farm nearby, but no reason for them to come this way."
I caught her mutterings. Didn't get details, but something was off. Not explaining to anyone—just talking to herself. She pulled a rectangular device from her hand.
"Given the time, the train's right at the border between two cities..."
Thoom! Azure light waves flooded outside the window. No shock inside, but definitely weird. Lights out; clanking as thick armor plates sealed the windows. Pitch black instantly. In the dark, her glowing golden cross-pupils and spinning gears shone bright.
"An incident, then."
Chilling words, followed by a mechanical clunk. Green indicator lights lit the aisle floor. The car buzzed with murmurs. Scary situation. Best bet: hunker down, wait it out. Optimal? Gather info, assess, act. Not hard. Anyone from a world with no one trustworthy has that basic instinct. Time to squeeze out some courage. Better to act and regret than do nothing and regret. Worst is being powerless.
Alright. Died once, reborn—dying again ain't shit. Get info from someone who might know: the scary lady ahead.
"Excuse me, do you know what's happening?"
Her pupils locked on me. Crosshairs, not circles—like staring down a gun barrel.
"The boy terrified by my appearance, yet pretending not to be. Your fear-tinged bravado was delicious."
Oops. Wrong person to talk to?
"Very well, an answer for your question—it's my job to provide them. Nothing clear yet. I know we're near a city border, livestock not from around here passed ahead, and a mere Ui-sik triple-layered composite barrier shaking won't stop the train. That's it."
Her earlier quiet gone, words poured out. Casual tone, no gravity. But recalling her last line, probably not right in the head.
"And what do you do?" I asked, groping through the dark.
She smiled thinly, amused by my tension, looking down. "What do you ask? Name: Lambda Lilion. Jobs: detective, fixer, all-purpose reserve servant, and more. Race? In terms you know..." Golden light intensified in her cross-eyes. For a split second, an illusion: countless gears spinning, but something missing at the center. Gone.
"Demon."
Demon. My old life's devil flashed, then dismissed. This world had demons as a race—not mythical, more like infamous historical descendants. Like telling a European I'm Genghis Khan's heir. Textbook stuff. And adults said—
"The ones with great power but bad personalities, so best avoided?"
"Ahaha! Some say that." Despite her delicate frame, husky voice, she glided over lightly and bent to my eye level.
"And your name, possessor of a twisted soul?"
Twisted physically? Whatever. Answer.
"Abelian Anion. That's me."
I greeted Lambda Lilion.