Eerie World · Conversa

Train No. G7419. Half a year ago, carrying a full load of passengers, it smoothly entered a mountain tunnel—and was subsequently erased from the face of the earth. Its radar signal vanished into nothingness, satellite tracking snapped cleanly without warning, and all that remained on the tracks was a pocket of dissipating air, swallowed into the void alongside thousands of unsent messages. Officially, authorities announced an emergency shutdown for maintenance due to mechanical failure; the truth was sealed directly into the classified archives of the Bureau of Equilibrium. For six whole months, human society searched in vain. Everyone assumed that the entire train had long since been annihilated within some unknown aberrant rift. Until the signal flared back to life. Alarms buried deep within the main monitoring station detonated into a blare, scarlet warning lights flashing all the way down the long corridors. The coordinates, dormant for half a year, resurfaced without warning on a long-blockaded railway line in the central region of the country. When Squad Guixu received their mobilization orders, the night was thick with darkness. The command was concise, devoid of any warmth: Target—the resurfaced G7419. Proceed to the scene immediately. Shen Yanci's fingertips brushed across the blinking dot of light on his tablet, his pale eyes fixed on the screen. He rapidly skimmed through dozens of pages of sealed files, mentally sorting and calculating every record of the disappearance as countless possibilities unfurled in an instant. "Spatial regression, missing for half a year. It didn't cross time; it was dragged into an isolated aberration domain and has only just completed its regressive release," he said in a low voice, calmly issuing the order. "Gear up. Moving out immediately." Lu Jin casually slung his equipment bag over his shoulder, his fingers idly rubbing against the short blade at his waist. A smirk played on his lips, though the amusement never reached his eyes. "Disappeared for six months and suddenly wandered back on its own? Man, did this train just take a scenic detour through hell?" Despite the flippant remark, he instinctively checked the monitor on his wrist that measured the concentration of Death Green. Beneath his skin, the faint, nearly invisible dark green markings throbbed softly, instinctively sounding the alarm against the heavy, ominous presence looming in the distance. Without a word, Gu Linzheng fastened the heavy shield of Order onto his back, the metal buckles snapping shut with crisp, decisive clicks. Old scars ached faintly in the damp night air. Frowning slightly, he silently suppressed the dull, bone-deep ache, standing steady like a mountain in the corridor. He gave Shen Yanci a brief nod, signaling that he was ready. Su Wenheng carefully stowed the sealed container of purification serum, his fingertips lightly tracing the outer surface of the case. His expression was calm and gentle, yet his brows were knitted slightly; in his heart, he had already sensed the overwhelming tide of sorrow and resentment rolling in from afar. Countless fractured, anguished emotions drifted across the vast distance like countless silent, outstretched hands. "So many... so many lingering regrets," he whispered softly. The four boarded the high-speed assault vehicle dispatched specifically by the Bureau of Equilibrium, hurtling toward the cordoned-off railway. The perimeter had long since been locked down completely. Layers of quarantine barriers cordoned off the entire sector, all unauthorized personnel had been cleared out, and only field agents from the bureau remained stationed along the edges of the open wilderness. The moment Squad Guixu crossed the cordon and looked toward the tracks, the air seemed to freeze instantly. The colossal high-speed train lay quietly across the rails. It sat intact on the tracks—neither overturned nor broken. Yet its once sleek, pristine white exterior was utterly unrecognizable. Sprawling streaks of dried, blackened blood ran along the hull in overlapping layers, soaking deep into the paint and tangling with thick, mottled dark red rust that smothered the entire carriage. Blood and rust had fused together into a coarse, cracked crust that hung low from the gaps of the cars like long-congealed scabs. Right then, the train doors slowly began to slide open.