Lucid followed Ayame onto the glowing walkway, his eyes wide. The train was incredible. It looked less like a machine and more like a piece of jewelry that had grown to the size of a building, all shimmering silver plates covered in softly pulsing blue runes. He stared, his head tilting as he tried to take it all in.
'Wow,' he thought, a simple, overwhelmed word. 'It's like a bullet train from a sci-fi movie had a baby with a wizard's spellbook.'
He was so busy looking at the outside that he almost didn't notice Ayame shift beside him. One moment she was tall and elegant, the next she seemed to fold in on herself, her bones and muscles shifting with a series of faint, almost inaudible pops. She shrunk back down to the smaller, more compact form he had first saved. It was efficient for getting through the narrow train door, he supposed, but he felt a strange, fleeting sense of loss. He liked her taller form. It felt more... her.
People already seated in the plush carriage glanced up as they entered. Their eyes skipped over his misted face, a common enough oddity here, and landed on Ayame. They took in her torn, stained clothes, the general look of someone who'd been through a war. Then their gazes snagged on the plain metal tag pinned to her tunic. Understanding dawned in their expressions, followed by a quick, polite aversion of their eyes. A slave. A noble's peculiar property. Nothing to see.
Lucid felt a fresh wave of hot embarrassment. He hated that tag. He hated what it represented. He wished he could rip it off her and throw it into the void.
He pushed the feeling down. They were on the train. That was what mattered.
The inside took his breath away. It was all deep red leather, polished dark wood, and crystal-clear windows that looked out onto the starry purple expanse. The air smelled clean and expensive. And on the window itself, a faint, glowing projection was playing, like a TV screen made of light.
"Whoa," he breathed out loud this time. He practically fell into the seat opposite the window, leaning forward.
'It's a screen,' he thought, a strange homesickness twisting in his gut. 'A high-def, magic screen built into the window. It's just like...'
"Just like the entertainment systems back on Earth," he muttered under his breath, a quiet laugh of disbelief escaping him.
A chime, sweet and clear, sounded in his mind. "Earth?" Alice's voice asked, her tone one of polite, divine curiosity. "You reference your point of origin again. This *train* marvels you so? It is a simple conveyance. A tube of metal moving along predetermined energetic pathways. The principle is not unlike the circulation of blood, though far less elegant."
"Simple?" Lucid thought back, grinning beneath his mist. He was too amazed to be annoyed. 'Alice, this is incredible. We had trains, but they ran on tracks on the ground. This thing is about to fly through an endless void on rails made of solid light. And it has in-window streaming! I used to have a phone that could do something like this, but I had to hold it.'
"A... *phone*?" The word seemed to confuse her. *'You speak of tools and toys I do not know. It sounds charmingly primitive. Was it a small, boxy idol you prayed to for knowledge?"
Lucid snorted, earning a brief, confused glance from an elderly man across the aisle. He covered it with a cough. "Not even close, you ancient relic," he teased mentally. "It was a handheld computer. For communication, information, games. You'd have loved it. It could calculate a million times faster than you."
There was a moment of indignant silence. "I am not a *relic,* Alice replied, her voice taking on a haughty, superior tone that was utterly spoiled by the affection warming its edges. "I am a timeless consciousness. Your *phone* sounds like a crutch for a limited mortal mind. I require no such external apparatus."
"Sure, sure," Lucid thought, his eyes glued to the screen as an advertisement for some Vexian perfume played out in silent, beautiful scenes. 'Keep telling yourself that. I miss my phone.'
He was so engrossed in the familiar-unfamiliar technology that he almost missed the look Ayame gave him. From the corner of his eye, he saw her dark eyes fixed on him, not on the window. Her expression was unreadable, as always, but there was an intensity to it. A scrutiny that felt heavier than usual.
"What's with her?" he wondered briefly. "Ever since that village... she's been different. Quieter. Well, quieter than her usual quiet." He thought of the punch, the betrayal in her eyes before he'd jumped into the flame. The guilt was a cold stone in his stomach. Maybe she was just still angry. He couldn't blame her.
He pushed the thought away and focused on the screen. The perfume ad faded, replaced by a flashy logo and an overly cheerful announcer.
"Hello, hello, folks!"
The digital host boomed, his grin too wide.
"Today on the Fugitive List, we are presenting five individuals!"
Lucid's interest was piqued. A bounty show. He watched as the first entry flashed up, no picture, just a shadowy silhouette and a truly astronomical reward. Five diamond coins. The host joked that finding this person was more likely to get you killed than paid. Lucid whistled low. 'Note to self,' he thought. 'Avoid shadowy legends connected to the Seven Heavenly Virtues. Whatever those are.'
The second listing came up.
"TRENT LOCKHEART! THE FOUNDER OF THE CHAPEAU!"
The name meant nothing to Lucid, but the details were lurid enough. A curse-forging businessman, wanted by multiple kingdoms. The reward was still huge, but less so: sixty-eight platinum coins.
He was about to make a joke to Alice about career choices when he felt Ayame move.
She stood up abruptly, the motion sharp and sudden. "Excuse me," she muttered, the words so low he almost didn't catch them. She didn't look at him. She just turned and walked quickly down the narrow corridor of the carriage, disappearing toward the back.
Lucid stared after her, confusion and worry replacing his amusement. She hadn't even looked at the bounties. Was she feeling sick? The after-effects of the drug? Or was it him? Was being near him, after everything, that unpleasant?
He felt a pang of loneliness, sharp and clear. He was surrounded by people, hurling through a magical void on a train from the future, and he felt utterly alone.
He forced his attention back to the screen, if only to stop himself from staring at the empty space where she'd been.
The host was still talking.
"Our third is a soldier! A former combatant of the Materna Empire army who turned their back! ARTHUR THE BETRAYER! Considered extremely dangerous, last seen fleeing into the Kingdom of Vex! Reward: Twenty platinum coins!"
The fourth listing was just text. "Wanted by the Dao Dynasty. Information Classified. Reward: Fifteen platinum coins." Mysterious.
"And finally."
The host chuckled.
"A crowd favorite! PILT THE GENEROUS SCOUNDREL! A merchant wanted for fraud, grand theft, and allegedly cheating at least three royal families at cards! But there is a twist he must be captured alive... oh look at his face isn't he just punchable! AHEM.. The reward is ten platinum coins and the undying frustration of every noble he's swindled!"
The list ended, cycling back to a scenic view of Vex.
Lucid leaned back in his seat, the plush leather sighing under him. The wonder of the train was still there, but it was muted now, colored by Ayame's sudden departure and the stark reminders of how dangerous and complicated this world truly was. Legends, betrayers, secretive dynasties, and charming thieves. And somewhere in the middle of it all, him. A man with a fake noble stamp, a possibly homicidal Oni companion, and a goddess in his head.
A low hum vibrated through the floor. The train was moving. No lurch, no chugging of an engine. One moment it was still, the next it was gliding forward with impossible smoothness. Out the window, the obsidian platform began to slide away. Then it fell away entirely as the train tipped gently forward, following the glowing rail that curved down and out into the open void.
His breath caught. It was space travel. Pure and simple. The train, encased in a faint bubble of shimmering energy, sped along a ribbon of solid light that materialized just ahead of it in the nothingness. Behind them, the rail dissolved back into scattered essence. Below, above, and all around was the breathtaking, infinite purple expanse, dotted with floating rocks and distant, glittering fragments of other worlds.
It was mesmerizing. It was terrifying. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
His worry for Ayame, his guilt, his loneliness, it all shrunk for a moment in the face of this cosmic wonder. He was a speck on a speck, flying through the heart of everything.
He felt something then. A gentle pressure on his hand, which was resting on the arm of the seat. He looked down.
A hand was holding his. But it wasn't a physical hand. It was made of soft, glowing green light, translucent and shimmering. It was cool to the touch, but solid. It gave his fingers a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
Alice.
A real smile, wide and grateful, spread across his face beneath the mist. She couldn't always do this. Manifesting even this small, tactile illusion took focus and energy. She was telling him he wasn't alone.
"Show-off," he whispered, so low no one else could hear.
The green hand gave his a little shake, a scolding gesture. A feeling, not words, flowed into his mind. It was a complex mix of affection, exasperation, and supreme, divine confidence. The feeling condensed into a single, clear message: "You are my foolish human. And you are witnessing wonders."
Lucid blushed, grateful the mist hid it. He turned his hand over and laced his fingers with the glowing green ones. They felt real.
"Yours?" he whispered back to the empty air, to the goddess only he could see and feel. "You'd have to kill me for that." He laughed.
He sat there, holding a hand made of starlight and will, watching creation stream past the window, a small, anchored point in the glorious, terrifying, wonderful unknown. The journey to Vex seemed not as distant anymore.