The silence that followed the firing of the Red Beam was more terrifying than the explosion of the bridge.
In the 21st century, we called this a "Black Swan Event"—an unpredictable occurrence that deviates beyond what is normally expected and has potentially severe consequences.
One moment, the Phoenix's Breath was a glowing monument to Oakhaven's "Industrial Supremacy," radiating enough heat to melt the very air. The next, it was a "Frozen Asset."
A thick, jagged crust of translucent red ice had encased the entire locomotive in a heartbeat. It didn't crawl over the metal; it "Snap-Froze" it, defying every law of thermodynamics I knew. The steam, which had been roaring at five thousand PSI just seconds ago, was captured mid-plume, looking like ghostly white claws reaching for the sky. The heat of the boiler, the fury of the Kar-Thul coal—everything had been "Nullified."
"Sarah! Report!" I screamed, lunging toward the frozen cab.
