A Curse That Makes the Heart Tremble
Click-clack, click-clack. With the sharp sound, Lambda Lilion approached and bowed at the waist right in front of me.
"Hope."
Her gaze was right there in front of me. Her expressionless, doll-like face felt eerie rather than beautiful—like staring into a deep, unsettling valley.
"The emotion that took hold when you spoke of saving people was nothing but hostility toward evil. At its base lies indifference toward humanity itself. How could you speak of hope that they'll become better amid their suffering?"
She's spot on. Yeah, right. I'm not stopping them out of some noble conviction that people shouldn't be killed. These are the same bastards who tried to kill me, aren't they? If death led to some horrific end, I'd have let them go right ahead. But knowing it doesn't... I just wanted them to suffer more.
It's unsatisfying when bad people end up happy, you know?
"Don't you just want them to suffer eternally?"
Click-clack. The sound of gears turning. Golden gears materialized in the air, gaining volume and mass, spinning clearly. She can make it happen.
An evil bastard suffering forever? Yeah, that'd be refreshingly cathartic. Pure satisfaction.
"That's not stylish."
Does it really need to be some grand idea? It's just what I think is cool.
"Kuha-hat!"
Her laughter exploded like a tripwire snapping. This woman sure laughs easily. She passed right by me. Then—thud. Warmth pressed down on my shoulder. I turned to see Lambda Lilion's hand, clad in pristine white gloves.
"That's your aesthetics. I hope one day you can build convictions around it. Now then, time to work. The chit-chat's over, but the job's still half-done—like an unfinished gear. We must wrap it up."
The heavy sensation lifted from my shoulder. Below, faint green indicator lights illuminated the owners of those eyes, along with a few villains whose bodies were partially replaced by gears.
"Hey. What was the goal of attacking this place?"
Behind me, Lambda Lilion began extracting the truth. Honestly, not my department, so I decided to look around instead.
The first thing that caught my eye: golden gears. Even in the darkness, they emitted a dim glow. Some bound the villains to prevent escape, but others shone alone, a bit farther off.
I peered into the shadows, and there it was. A long spear—and an arm gripping it. Golden gears gleamed from the severed shoulder stump.
Still dazed, let me sort this out. So, this spear had flown straight at my seat, Lambda Lilion saved me, and that's when this arm came off. Labeling it "on-the-job intel verification" for now, but really, it's from the guy currently under interrogation.
I grabbed the spear. Heavy weight, followed by the stench of oil wafting up. A thick, metallic clunk as something solid hit the floor. The blue indicator light from below faintly revealed a hand clenched around the shaft.
Correction: gears stitched the fingers to the spear like a seam. That's why Lambda Lilion yanked the arm clean off earlier.
Examining the cut surface where arm met body, it wasn't just brute force. Gears formed, consuming flesh, and their rotation tore the muscles away. In other words, this weapon's busted, right?
Well, at least I should return the attached bits to the owner.
I approached Lambda Lilion, mid-exchange of technical jargon, spear in hand.
"Why?"
"This belongs to that guy until he croaks, doesn't it?"
Even severed, body parts are still his property, yeah?
"Fair point. What say you, owner?"
"Honestly, you're scarier than her."
The man answered Lambda Lilion's question like that. I held out the arm dangling from the spear tip, and he just gave me a "what now?" look.
"Not reattaching it?"
"I'm no field medic. You think I know that kind of magic?"
Oh, she can't? I figured soldiers self-heal in combat. Shrugging, I tossed the spear-arm combo onto the floor. He stared sadly at his rolling limb.
"Anyway, back to business. Attacking this train here is pointless. Even if it's unmanned, Central's not dumb enough not to investigate and identify the weapons used."
Dismissing his reaction, Lambda Lilion pressed on.
"No, you're wrong. You know how many outdated weapons flooded the black market when the Guardian Knights downsized? This isn't military stock. Bought it off the black market."
Surprisingly, he'd been spilling freely. But Lambda Lilion tapped him lightly with her toe.
"Too elaborate for bandits exploiting system weak points—or a washed-up soldier in these parts. Excluding that."
"Military gear's too pricey, and weak for the cost. Black market's got way better stuff for the money."
She stared down intently; he couldn't meet her eyes and dropped his gaze.
"Can't betray my motive."
"Nah, I've got it."
With that, Lambda Lilion stood. Without hesitation, she crossed the car. Instead of following, I sat and asked the still-hunched man,
"So, what were you trying to do? What happens if you wreck the train?"
He glanced up. His pale face and sweat-soaked hair caught the light.
"Train protection used to be Guardian Knights' job. Before machines took over, I worked these routes."
His words came with ragged breaths. He looked rough.
"If bandits kill passengers here, prove machines can't protect everyone... we'll get our jobs back... Boss said so."
His voice trailed off dreamily. Yeah, losing an arm means blood loss and agony.
"Guardian Knights killing people?"
He flinched at the name—local cops and army rolled into one.
"Ha! So what? Think everyone's dying to sacrifice for others? I just wanted to eat. At my age, all I know is guarding trains..."
He spilled excuses. At least he had some shame.
"A world where we're needed again... coming."
"Scary stuff."
It really was. The picture was clear: Luddite movement. This armored train swapped manpower for machines, jobs vanished. Classic tale.
"'Live and suffer,' coming from you? No."
"Isn't it fun when villains get wrecked? Everyone loves that."
Internet's full of it.
"So I stay miserable forever, huh?"
Full of resentment? Nah, his tone dripped self-pity. Grown man on the verge of tears.
"Yup. Killing's bad. No karma? Only stab if you're ready to get stabbed."
Heavy silence fell.
"Who prepares for that?"
Thud—he spat it out. Then curses flew from afar, mixed with "hold it" and "dangerous if you go."
Lambda Lilion had left the car—no danger, right? Oh, wait. Half-man, half-gear abominations, plus a live assassin? Terrifying, yeah. Even for me.
But after dying once, fear of death fades. That's why I can yap in front of this guy.
"You failed, then."
Like internet trolls clubbing noobs in comments.
"How, then?"
Now just mumbling.
"Wish life had answers, but even dying and reincarnating didn't show 'em. Suffer together. Try being better."
No reply. His breaths deepened, steadied—he'd live.
Teasing's less fun than expected. Smashing villains should be a blast. Weird.
I stood and headed out to check the outside situation, curiosity piqued.
Through the door: a small space with bathroom and vending machine. But more—big open cases below, clearly weapon bags. Rope-and-bar ladder dangling from above.
Up the ladder: large hole, space above, another hole higher. Bad idea to climb.
I passed and moved forward. If more bad guys ahead, gotta team up with the adult inside.
Peeking through the already-open door: dim green lights, clean air. No issues? No people?
Leaned in—no signs of life. Door open means checked? Or some gear-zombies were passengers?
Then—
[The train will depart shortly. Standing passengers, please take your seats for safety.]
"Gaaahhh!"
A guttural scream from my car. Thuds and crashes followed—then a blood-soaked soldier burst out.
The guy I'd chatted with. He grabbed the ladder with his remaining hand.
Our eyes met.
"Gonna stop me?"
His voice trembled faintly. Blood loss, sure—but something else.
"No strength left. Go. Quit the ugly crap."
He stared like I'd suddenly sprung some horror on him in a safe spot.
"Thought you'd curse me."
"If you'd gutted me, I'd hex every plan to fail. But now we're just strangers who saw faces. Or hit me with a clean one?"
His face twisted indescribably. No action, though.
Clunk. Train lurched to depart; ladder retracted upward, man aboard.
As his feet lifted, he looked back.
"Curse me."
Curse? Oh, right. If you're begging, make it epic.
"Mend your wrongs, resist injustice, hate evil, love good. Live it to the end, never quit."
The harshest path I know. Few pull it off.
No retort—he fled.
I returned to my car.
"A curse to make the heart tremble. Abelian."
Lambda Lilion waved from a intact seat. More eye-catching: bloody-shirted guy sprawled near the entrance. Bloodied spear nearby.
Earlier, only the arm end was bloody; now the blade too. The cursing uncle from before.
No way chat-guy dragged him here to stab. Probably vented rage, got stabbed. Karma.
Bandages looked pro—no need for my touch. Folks taught me basic first aid, that's it.
My original seat was wrecked by the incoming spear. Whatever—sat by the window.
Clunk-clunk. The train resumed toward its destination.