The locomotive is the control center of a train, but for the Dawn Express—a vessel of extraordinary power that traverses ti itself—it is the very heart of the operation. To call it a re locomotive would be an understatent; it is the quintessence of miraculous and mighty chanical creation, an irreplaceable, one-of-a-kind work of art.
"Why aren't you going after your friend?" the conductor asked Alexia, wiping sweat from his brow. He reached over and pulled a lever, closing the car door through which Jenkins had just vanished. The ghostly green, middle-aged man was visibly on edge; even soone completely oblivious to social cues could see how tense he was.
"I don't think Jenkins will be in any danger here... I've heard him talk about your train..." Alexia replied, her voice exceptionally flat.
"This isn't my train," he corrected her. "I'm just a poor soul imprisoned here."
"Alright, whatever your relationship with this train is, I hardly think a single Sin Coin is enough to get Jenkins and on board. He should know that, too, but he's just too distraught about his cat right now..."
At the ntion of Jenkins and his cat, a flicker of displeasure crossed the short lady's face. She quickly composed herself, her expression turning serious as she faced the conductor, who was still dabbing at his forehead with a handkerchief.
"So, tell ," she demanded. "Why did you bring us onto this train? Or rather, who wants to see us?"
"Well... I..."
Thick, ghostly green beads of sweat trickled down the conductor's face. An awkward expression took hold, and he instinctively took a step back.
"Ma'am, alright, there is indeed a guest who wishes to see you. Although the... although the cat coming aboard was an accident, even without it, I would have deliberately made this train appear before you shortly."
He walked briskly to the connecting passage between the cars and gestured for her to proceed.
"The guest awaiting you is this way. Please, allow to lead."
"And Jenkins?"
Alexia asked this as she removed the white, fluffy cape draped over Jenkins's coat. With the motion, she reverted to her original appearance.
"Only you are needed. The distinguished guest wishes to see you alone. To be honest, Mr. Williams and I t just recently. I truly had no idea he was... Never mind, never mind. This way, please."
Alexia nodded, no longer concerned about Jenkins's whereabouts, and followed the conductor toward the rear cars.
Just as it had been during Jenkins's last visit, the train was composed of repeating compartnt cars. However, when the conductor led Alexia to the second car, he didn't knock on a single door. Instead, he stood respectfully at the front of the carriage and announced:
"M-Miss Wisconsin, the guest you were waiting for has arrived."
A soft click echoed in her ears, and the space before them began to twist like a wrung-out towel, contorting into a nauseating spiral. Alexia held her ground, enduring the disorienting sight; it was a rare and valuable opportunity to witness the mysteries of spatial manipulation.
Once the space had twisted into a chaotic, indistinct mass, it began to drift back toward order. Monts later, it stabilized, but the familiar compartnt layout was gone. In its place was a luxurious drawing-room car, much like the one Jenkins had traveled in on his way to Ruen.
A ghostly green fire crackled quietly in the hearth, its light bathing the plush carpet in an erald glow. Though its original color was a mystery, the carpet's quality was undeniable.
The lavishly decorated car was rather dim, probably because all the curtains were drawn. A tall, elegant woman sat on a sofa with her back to the door, a wine glass held in her slender right hand. She swirled the green liquid within, her movents fluid and graceful.
Even from this partial view, Alexia could sense that the woman was extraordinary. The stranger's long hair was bound with a ribbon in a complex, intricate style that cascaded down her back, radiating an air of nobility and elegance.
"Alright, thank you for your trouble."
The woman's voice was deep and lodious. Alexia lowered her gaze for a second, masking the string of runes that flashed across her eyes.
"Mr. Ron, you may leave now. When our eting is over, please see them back."
"Of course. It is my honor to serve you."
The conductor removed his hat, gave a slight bow, and then retreated in a series of small, shuffling steps, making sure to close the door behind him.
"Please, have a seat. Alexia... I imagine you have so questions for , and I have things to tell you as well. Before Jenkins... before Jenkins Williams cos to his senses, we should finish our talk. He cannot know that I have temporarily co to this era, or it will cause temporal chaos. While not irreversible, it would be quite troubleso to fix."
The strange woman swirled her glass, inviting Alexia to sit. Alexia was still parsing the woman's words; though she hadn't gleaned any critical information, she felt that her host bore her no ill will.
She gave a nod, first in thanks for the invitation, then walked around the back of the sofa. Instead of sitting beside the woman, she chose a smaller armchair to the side.
"To have invited you both so smoothly was also unexpected. But it at least shows that everything is proceeding well. Miss Miller, please don't worry. I will tell you how to resolve the current crisis. In fact, this is hardly a crisis at all."
Alexia remained silent, her eyes now fixed on her host's face. The petite woman looked up, her expression a mask of pure astonishnt—a look that even Jenkins had never witnessed.
This young, graceful woman was no one she knew, and she certainly wasn't a reflection of herself; the difference in their heights alone was significant.
But in the woman's face, she recognized the distinct features of a certain family. Alexia had seen Jenkins's entire family—a fact of which he was completely unaware. Comparing the woman's features to the Williams family's traits, she perford a quick visual analysis and a rough calculation, arriving at an incredible conclusion.
"Your surna is Williams?"
"Kris Williams."
The young woman set her wine glass on the coffee table. Alexia noted that despite holding it for so long, she hadn't taken a single sip. As she looked at Alexia, a genuine smile blossod on her face.
"This is why I cannot et Uncle Jenkins. In his mory, he never t here at this point in ti, so I cannot disrupt his recollection. After all, for us at this current mont, what is observed is not necessarily real. But for the Jenkins of now, what he observes is most certainly real."
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