The train's ascent had been gradual enough that Lucid almost missed the moment when the ground stopped being ground and became instead a series of diminishing details far below the metal hull.
He stood at the open hatch, his fingers gripping the edge of the frame, and tried to determine whether what he was feeling qualified as relief or something considerably more complicated.
The orange life jacket he had been wearing for the better part of a week now fluttered around his torso, the fabric catching air currents that did not exist anywhere else in the train's interior, and he realized with a particular kind of irritation that he had stopped noticing how absurd he looked in the garment, which meant the absurdity had become normal, which meant he had been wearing it for far too long.
Down on the beach, figures were moving, and Lucid found himself tracking their motions with more attention than he had anticipated investing.
The woman in the apron was there, and beside her stood someone with white hair, and scattered across the sand were the faces of people whose names he had collected without particularly trying to, the shopkeepers and merchants and ordinary residents of a town he had not intended to stay in long enough to develop genuine attachments to.
They were waving, their arms moving in arcs that were visible even from this altitude, and the gesture carried a weight that Lucid was not prepared to examine too closely.
'They think I matter to them,' he thought, observing the scene, 'they are waving goodbye as though my departure has significance.'
He was so focused on the deteriorating image of the beach that he did not hear Pilt approaching until someone stepped onto the ladder below.
Lucid glanced back.
A familiar yellow-haired figure emerged from the interior of the train, climbing through the hatch with an unusual sense of purpose. More importantly, his expression carried none of the warmth or amusement Lucid had grown accustomed to during their previous encounters.
Lucid's eyes narrowed.
"You are not supposed to be here," he mumbled.
He turned away from the hatch to face Pilt properly. His shoulders had already tensed without his permission, apparently deciding they had noticed the problem before the rest of him had.
Something was different...
This was not the same person who usually acted like an idiot.
"I'm observing the departure," Pilt replied, keeping his voice level.
"There is nothing contrary to protocol about standing near an open hatch."
Then he squinted and tilted his head.
"Unless there is some sort of curfew around here... Captain."
Lucid stared at him.
'Captain? Where the hell did he get that from?'
Alice answered his thoughts almost immediately.
'Well, you do act like everyone's superior sometimes... even though you're the youngest and cutest person on board.'
Lucid's expression twitched.
'Shut up!'
"You are not supposed to be on this train at all," Lucid corrected, and his eyes held the particular quality of someone who was currently running through multiple scenarios and had already decided which one was most likely to be implemented,
"you agreed to certain conditions when you accepted passage, conditions that you have now violated by virtue of your continued existence."
Alice spoke with the seriousness of someone addressing a matter of tremendous importance.
'You have terms and conditions on board? I must say, that is... new.'
'Well, of course I do.'
Lucid was about to argue with his symbiotic partner over why basic rules were apparently such a revolutionary concept when he remembered there was an actual person standing in front of him.
He turned back to Pilt.
"What is it? Didn't you tell me you were going to hunt me down to the ends of... whatever?"
Lucid gave him a look of disinterested scrutiny, as if Pilt's grand declaration had been memorable enough to annoy him but not important enough to remember correctly.
"Look who came crawling back."
A hand suddenly shot toward his throat.
Lucid caught Pilt's wrist before it reached him.
By now, the train had climbed above the clouds. Far in the distance, a mass of purple could be seen gathering across the horizon, carrying with it the same strange ambiance Lucid associated with the void.
He looked at Pilt with a deadpan expression.
"Yeah, nice try. I just managed to tear through the fabric of space. You're going to have to do better than grabbing my neck."
Pilt did not reply.
He simply stared at him.
Lucid stared back.
The silence between them stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, then slightly awkward, and finally irritating.
Pilt's lips slowly curled into a strange, almost suggestive smirk. A faint blush appeared across his face.
His wrist trembled in Lucid's grip.
Lucid immediately released him and pulled his arm away.
"Ew..."
Alice responded with impeccable composure.
'An insightful assessment of the situation.'
Pilt's smirk remained.
"You are my slave, Lucid."
Lucid blinked.
There it was. Somehow, things had gotten worse.
"You are in so much debt that any meaningful amount of time you have left in this world would not repay even one percent of what you owe me. Your children's lives, whether you have many or none, would not be enough. Even their children, and their children's children, would inherit what you owe."
Lucid stared at him.
'That sounds legally questionable.'
'Among several other concerns,' Alice replied formally. 'I would advise against producing descendants solely for debt repayment purposes.'
'I wasn't planning to.'
'Excellent. One responsible decision today.'
Before Lucid could tell her to shut up again, Pilt suddenly broke into laughter.
It came loudly at first, almost triumphantly.
Then his voice cracked.
The laughter faltered and he sighed as if weights from his shoulders have been taken off.
Lucid only stared at him.
What was this now?
Something about Pilt's demeanor was wrong. His eyes looked sharper than before, focused in a way Lucid was not accustomed to seeing from him. Even the way he stood felt different. His shoulders were straight, his expression unreadable, and there was none of that irritating playfulness hanging around him.
'Not with this double identity bullshit...' Lucid thought.
'To be fair, everyone appears to have one,' Alice calmly chimed in. 'You should consider acquiring one yourself. Perhaps someone competent.'
Lucid ignored her.
Pilt raised the cigarette between his fingers and took a slow drag. The tip briefly burned orange before fading again.
"The only way you can pay me back is either..."
He paused.
Lucid waited.
Pilt's gaze settled on him.
"You can pay me with your body."
"No. I refuse!" Alice immediately declared.
Lucid's brow twitched.
'That's where you draw the line?'
'Naturally. I possess standards.'
Lucid nearly laughed.
Nearly.
Instead, he sighed and rubbed the side of his face. The wind rushed past the open hatch, tugging at his clothes and carrying the bitter smell of Pilt's cigarette with it.
"And the other option?"
"You pay me."
Lucid lowered his hand.
"How much?"
Pilt took another drag.
"A hundred diamonds."
Lucid froze.
Then his voice exploded across the roof of the train.
"A HUNDRED?!"
Lucid's shout carried across the roof of the train, somehow managing to make the rushing wind seem quiet in comparison.
"That's impossible! Nobody even has that much!"
Pilt merely sighed. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and examined what remained of it for a moment, watching the ember burn closer to his fingers.
"Indeed. For that is the price of a human life, my friend."
His expression changed slightly as he looked at Lucid. The amusement disappeared from his face, replaced by something unexpectedly sincere.
"No matter how much wealth you possess, you can never purchase human dignity."
With a flick of his finger, Pilt sent the cigarette flying into the wind. Lucid watched it tumble through the air, the tiny ember spinning wildly before vanishing somewhere behind the speeding train.
Lucid slowly lowered himself onto the roof and sat with his legs crossed. He sighed, staring down at the metal beneath him for several seconds before a quiet chuckle escaped his throat.
The chuckle became another.
Then, before he knew it, Lucid was laughing.
"You make me laugh."
Pilt stared down at him without saying anything.
"Pay you back for what?" Lucid asked. His laughter faded as he lifted his head and faced Pilt fully. "I saved your ass in there."
Somewhere below them, muffled by layers of metal and the relentless clattering of the train, Arthur's voice rose from inside the cabin.
"Hey! You two should probably come down! We're reaching higher altitudes!"
Neither of them responded.
Neither even looked toward the hatch.
Pilt continued staring at Lucid, and Lucid finally noticed exactly where his attention had settled.
"I can't see your eyes," Pilt said. "I can't predict where you will look."
Lucid tilted his head.
"Predict?"
Pilt turned away from him, allowing the wind to push his yellow hair back from his face.
"I do not care. I truly don't."
Lucid's amusement gradually faded.
"The truth of the matter is that you are indebted to me," Pilt continued. "Your future belongs to me."
He slowly licked his lips.
"Your sweet, unseen future."
Lucid stared at him.
'This guy is giving me the creeps.'
Alice responded with remarkable composure.
'And he did not before? There were already a considerable number of warning signs.'
'I didn't bring him here. He just appeared.'
'You could have kicked him off.'
'Democracy on board said no.'
'A tragic weakness of representative government.'
Lucid suppressed another sigh before looking back up at Pilt. This time, a full smile spread across his face.
"Fuck you and your debt."
He placed one hand against the roof and pushed himself up. The metal beneath his palm vibrated constantly from the train's movement. He stepped toward the hatch and lowered one leg through it, crawling past Pilt without giving him another glance.
"I would consider your position very carefully," Pilt said behind him.
Lucid stopped.
Something had entered the edge of his vision.
It was only there for an instant, lingering at the very edge of his peripheral sight, but it was enough to make his fingers tighten around the rim of the hatch.
A rope had been fastened around several explosives along the side of the train. Small lights blinked across them at steady intervals, distinct against the dark metal.
Lucid's smile disappeared.
He immediately activated the Chain of Heart, expecting something to answer his perception. Nothing did. There was no trace of Fate Essence, no strange residue, and no indication that the objects were artifacts at all.
'An electronic bomb? But how?!'
His head snapped toward Pilt.
Pilt had already turned away from him. As if there were not enough problems on the roof of the train, he calmly pulled out another cigarette and brought it to his lips. A small flame appeared between his hands as he lit it.
Alice remained silent for a moment.
'This is bad,' she finally said.
Lucid's eyes remained fixed on the explosives.
'Thank you, Alice. Your expert assessment has been invaluable.'
'You are welcome. I considered screaming, but I believed that would be less constructive.