Train Assault: Gears of Judgment
BOOM! The introductions ended with a period, just like that.
Somewhere in the train, a sturdy panel screamed, and that scream turned straight into a jolt that shook the interior. The shaking subsided. But the silence dragged on longer. Harsh breaths couldn't chase it away.
Between the green indicator lights lining the corridor, pale faces appeared, eyes blankly scanning the darkness where the noise had come from. Right after, faint lights leaked from cabins here and there. Blue mist poured from one person, while faint yellow lines traced over a nearby uncle's entire body.
In dangerous situations, people instinctively squeezed out their mana. In this world, mana was like a body organ anyone could use. Anyone could wield it. In other words, that was the extent of it.
The lights stopped at just leaking out, and everyone rolled their eyes around. Clack, clack. Then, shoe heels clicked in a leisurely, steady rhythm utterly out of place. Heads turned unconsciously toward the sound, and a hand thrust right in front.
The hand vanished from in front of my eyes, my feet felt empty, and my nape yanked upward. Wait, am I being lifted with one hand right now?
"Grab your bag."
Goosebumps erupted all over me, and my arms tensed on instinct. As they did, my arms yanked downward, and the world spun around me at terrifying speed.
Thud! Through my shattering vision—like a background painted in scattered pigments—I saw cold metal pierce the seat in front, claiming my spot. Then, a pitch-black shadow loomed before me.
Crash! Correction: I slammed into a solid wall. I braced my arms and whipped my gaze forward.
A long metal shaft protruded from where I'd been sitting. No matter how you looked at it, the sharp spearhead gleamed clearly in the dim darkness. The spear trembled violently but couldn't retreat beyond the wall it had burst from. Lambda Lilion's hand gripped the shaft tight.
"I said it was overly calculated—turns out it was human work after all."
Scrape. As the spear lifted, a wooden crunch echoed. Then came a brief tearing sound, capped by liquid gushing out.
Drowning it all, Lambda Lilion muttered complex words, but they didn't register. I couldn't see everything through the seats, but an arm dangled from one end of the shaft. Where the body should have been hung a shredded mass of flesh mixed with golden gears. And as if to confirm it was real, the stench of blood assaulted my nose.
Shock. No, the shock hit me from realizing I was shocked. Weren't you supposed to know all about dying people, me? Well, yeah, seeing someone die like this—excluding my own body—is a first.
Pushing that realization aside, I stood.
"So, who are you lot, using outdated military gear?"
Lambda Lilion summed up whatever she'd said earlier. In short, the situation wasn't over. The best move here was waiting for rescue, but that option had just said goodbye. You bastard. What am I supposed to do now that you've ditched me like that!
"Hey! Nobody said there'd be a demon!"
"We just had to kill the suit guys, right? Simple!"
"Argh, even if it's a demon, it's basically just a strong human! Hah, let's take it down together!"
Murmurs rose from the far side of the cabin. Ugh, such a deflating attitude. Still, I had no idea how strong Lambda Lilion really was, and if "demon" was accurate, she might bill me for this—money or otherwise. No blindly clinging to her for safety.
I turned to see people whose lights hadn't faded but shifted from mist or flames into letter-like forms. Not just mana—magic. They were gearing up to fight.
Right. Wandering the wilds meant packing at least a set of offensive and defensive spells for self-defense as basics. Head straight there? Not yet.
My slightly trembling steps halted. The blood scent rang alarm bells: judge carefully. So, think.
Motley crew. Old military gear. Midway between cities. Military-related? Even in my law-abiding previous life, one life was cheap; more people made it cheaper. Anyone could stab for cash. Even non-killers.
So instead of joining the huddled crowd, I crouched low.
Golden eyes glared as if pointing me out, sharp in the dark.
"Hey, total attack on the demon when I say!"
The brief conference behind the wall vanished into a shaky shout. Then, sounds cut off abruptly from beyond.
Bang! Bang! Off-beat, like poor timing. Doors flew open, and a man and woman charged out wielding spinning blades—one from each entrance.
Their clothes looked familiar. I'd expected military uniforms with military weapons, but no. Just ordinary stuff like I'd seen walking the city.
"Stab the white hair!"
Near my entrance, the only one in military armor—a one-armed man—yelled.
"Don't you know the word 'negotiation'?"
Lambda Lilion asked crisply, spinning blades upfront.
"Eeeek!"
"I told you demons are dangerous!"
"Use magic!"
"Move! I said move!"
"I-I don't know! I don't know about this!"
The intruders' blades met Lambda Lilion. But it wasn't shredding her—it was like meshing gears into her massive clockwork.
Tick. The faint clock sound from before rang clear.
Tick. Tick. Unlike the whisper, it grew louder.
I knew why soon enough. It hammered straight into my eyes with violent directness.
Spinning sawblade, spear shaft, human hand, forearm, upper arm—gears sprouted in sequence, using everything in between as material. Weapons fed military parts. Hands mixed bone and parts. Arms used bone and tendons. Each rotation stripped original colors, turning golden. Like Lambda Lilion's gold was contagious.
As gears spun, they gilded, grew, and humans lost form. No battle here. Just surreal horror—like a whale flopping on asphalt, twisting to death under its weight.
No real enemies. Just gears becoming gears.
Hunker here with head down, and it'd end. But.
Still, let's push forward with cruelty here.
"Wait, Ms. Lambda Lilion."
I knew my voice shook pitifully. But her golden cross pupils had fixed on me since I stood. At least she wouldn't pretend not to see.
What must be said, must be said.
"Don't kill them."
Silence fell. The kind from seeing but not grasping. Even the one-armed man's pleas to kill the white hair vanished.
Her cross pupils narrowed; golden gears inside whirred furiously.
"These are people set on killing you. Appealing to mercy here?"
I shook my head. This, I could shake with confidence.
"They'd just reincarnate pain-free. You want them to flee via death?"
From personal experience, I suggested their suffering.
"They should suffer more."
Silence again. Even ticking stopped. No gears spun near Lambda Lilion now.
"Ahahaha! Yes, twisted soul! You didn't realize—you just patched surface cracks from reality's shattering. Makes sense. From pure fact, you propose villains endure more pain in life!"
She laughed explosively.
Clack, clack. Ignoring her half-clockwork entourage, she approached. Doll-like smile, golden cross eyes looking down.
"How much suffering do you want for them?"
"First, shouldn't we ask 'who'?"
I pointed at the remaining group.
"Someone's hiding there, right? You know already, but we gotta catch 'em. And check who ordered that one-armed guy over there."
Thud. A collapse sounded. I pointed there.
"Mind if I check?"
"Go ahead."
Lambda Lilion stepped aside easily. I rushed to the man.
Bleeding out, lips blue. Golden gear stuck to severed shoulder. I gripped and smacked it.
"Don't die."
Yeah. Can't die.
Heavy bleeding—how to stop? I rummaged my bag, pulled a shirt I'd brought to wear at home. Tore the sleeve ruthlessly, pressed his bloody shoulder, tied tight.
"You gotta live."
He paled more, but lips regained color. While at it, bound his legs and arms too—he let me, kinda funny. Shoulda not done bad stuff earlier, huh? His fear seemed more for me than Lambda Lilion. Oh, right—one thing.
"Biting your tongue won't kill you. Just shortens it forever—unless you wanna lisp eternally, stay still."
I shook bloodied hands roughly and stood. To still-doll-smiling Lambda Lilion:
"Now, time to find the hider."
Crash! Someone fled from the back.
"What now?"
"Kinda sucks we missed 'em."
"That's it? Thought you wanted all sinners to suffer eternally in this life."
I shook my head side to side. Definitely a misunderstanding there.
"Not eternally. If they become better, no excess pain. Ever heard of reformism? Reformism?"
A model citizen answer, moral within reason.
Lambda Lilion cackled again.
"Why?"
"Utterly heartless. Know how much agony to reach that? How many fail?"
I knew. But that's why it mattered. If everyone changed, it'd be mundane. Value from countless failures—hope people can improve.
"There's hope in it."
Vaguely recalled reformism meant that—good, right?
Click. The golden gear in Lambda Lilion's pupil halted.