The Railroad - Terminus - 6.8
Imported from SF2 with no description.
As we retreated, we encountered no further resistance. We found a massive breach in a tall wall and exited the facility, which resembled a fortress.
The air was thick with the smell of gunpowder, spent shell casings littered the ground, and the sounds of intense gunfire echoed all around — 74258 must have truly given it his all.
I limped down the slope and entered a stretch of low, sparse shrubs.
“By Rationalism itself, you're still alive!” Bert startled me when he found us, nearly making me jump, though I was too exhausted to manage such a dramatic reaction.
The yellow dog looked like he had been through a fierce battle — his right eye was so swollen from bruising that it couldn't open, his hat was nowhere to be found, and his coat was covered in dirt and scorch marks. The most striking thing, though, was the missing ear.
“You’re missing one ear,” I said, probably too numb from all the pain to think clearly, and for some reason, I found it amusing.
“I thought you'd be the ‘you still have one ear’ type!” Bert joked, making me chuckle.
However, 74258 didn’t seem to find it funny. He rolled his eyes and urged us to keep moving.
“You’re a dangerous little thing, taking down the whole fortress with just a flick of your fingers,” Bert said, patting 74258 on the arm with a laugh.
“I had many pieces to play,” 74258 replied. “That made things a lot easier.”
Bert laughed even harder, glancing back at the fortress, where another explosion had just erupted, sending thick smoke into the sky.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried about the yellow dog’s condition.
“Never better,” Bert said, giving me a once-over. “How about you?”
“Still have half-alive,” I replied, perhaps the pain from having teeth and nails ripped out had awakened a strange sense of humor in me.
Bert laughed so hard he was gasping for air, and we had to stop for a rest. Once we caught our breath, the yellow dog informed us that the transport was waiting at the shore, just beyond the shrubland. He also mentioned that the Council was displeased with the Golden House’s actions and had intervened directly, so we didn’t need to worry about further obstacles on our journey.
Hearing that news, I finally felt a small sense of relief, allowing me to breathe a little easier.
“Bert…” 74258 adjusted his sitting position uneasily, casting a hesitant glance at the large yellow dog, who raised an eyebrow, patiently waiting with his usual smile. “Didn’t you say that the bullet in Hunter’s gun couldn’t penetrate the defense circle?”
“Yes,” Bert nodded. “You didn’t run into a psychic, did you?” He looked concerned.
“I…” 74258 glanced at me and scratched his ear. “We… encountered the Marquis of New York.”
“By the shining light of reason!” Bert slapped his forehead and barked softly. “At least you managed to escape…” He suddenly stopped, as though something had just clicked. “How exactly did you ‘encounter’ Edward?”
74258 briefly explained what had happened after we came across the golden retriever, and I added my perspective.
“By Rationalism itself,” Bert muttered, covering his eyes with his hand. “Edward is notoriously petty, this is going to be a problem.” He sighed, lowering his hand onto his thigh. “But, according to what you said, there’s something I need to confirm.”
The yellow dog approached 74258, telling him not to move, and placed his right palm on the fox’s head. Bert closed his eyes and stood still. I noticed 74258 shiver slightly.
“Congratulations, you’re Epsilon-class,” Bert said with a bitter laugh. “Now we’re really in trouble.”
“Why is that a problem?” The fox, clearly too anxious to speak, had his hands twisted together. I voiced his concern for him.
“Well…” Bert paced back and forth, a rare sign of anxiety in his demeanor. “Let’s start with the good news.” He stopped, turning toward 74258. “Your talents have been noticed, and as a psychic, the Council will definitely seek you out. Once we reach Greenland, a bright future awaits you.”
“That sounds great,” I said irritably, sensing the “but” Bert was about to add. “And the bad news?”
“But, for an unawakened psychic, there are some troublesome rules in the territorial clauses before you get an official invitation from the Council. We’ll deal with that later, though. The real problem now is that because you attacked Edward, he has the right to…” Bert’s words were cut off by an explosion, and a surge of flames erupted near us. “…do that!”
We sprang to our feet and ran.
Another explosion followed, and flames spread like liquid, quickly engulfing everything around us.
“Head to the coast!” Bert shouted after we were forced to double back by the intense heat.
The fire was everywhere, the smoke stinging my eyes and making it impossible to take a breath without choking on the acrid fumes.
“What’s going on?” 74258 wiped his face and asked after we finally escaped into an unburnt area.
“Some kind of grenade launcher, equipped with incendiary rounds,” Bert said, glancing back at the blaze. “Just a guess.”
“How much further?” I forced the words out, struggling to get the question past my lips.
Ignoring 74258’s worried glance, I tensed my body, fighting off the small tremors. He had likely noticed that the painkillers had worn off, and I was on the verge of passing out.
“Almost there,” Bert said, his gaze wandering. “Just hang on a little longer.”
I tried to crack another joke with my newly awakened sense of humor, but another nearby explosion made all of us flinch.
“Come out and play, little fox!” A crazed shout cut through the ringing in my ears, and even the crackling of fire on the dry branches seemed to fade.
“That lunatic…” Bert cursed under his breath, standing up to scan the surroundings. “This way!”
We had barely started moving when I saw something red drop in front of us.
“Get down!” Bert lunged back at us, pinning us to the ground. A burst of flames followed, the intense heat forcing me to shut my eyes.
“Are you okay?” the yellow dog asked, concerned. When I got up, I saw him throw his coat to the ground, trying to stomp out the flames still burning it. Many parts of Bert’s fur were scorched, the tips curled and singed.
“Come out, or I’ll come find you!” The voice rang out again, like some deranged beast that had lost all sense of reason. “I know where you are!”
The golden retriever’s declaration made me freeze, instinctively reaching for my neck.
The collar!
This Rationalism cursed collar, why can’t I ever be free of this heavy shackle?
I gripped the collar tightly until I could barely breathe.
“...Move forward in a roundabout way, he can’t keep firing like this forever...” Bert was still trying to lead us out, finding ways to encourage us. “...We’re almost there.”
But on his dirt-streaked, ash-covered yellow face, I could see how exhausted he was. The yellow dog tried to hide his trembling hands with a smile, and only when we weren’t looking did he rub his temples.
“Hey, are you alright?” 74258 whispered, concerned, as he moved to support me.
But between his labored breathing and the occasional stumbling in his steps, I knew he was at his limit too.
“I’m fine.” With the most convincing smile I could manage, I tried to reassure them.
But every joint in my body was screaming, the gnawing pain, along with the injuries from the labrador dogs, were tearing at the last of my willpower now that the painkillers had worn off.
Another powerful explosion, accompanied by towering flames, surged toward us.
I didn’t move, just closed my eyes and let the searing heat wash over me.
I guess… this is it. Sometimes, knowing when to cut your losses is more important.
"There's no way we can escape," I whispered, but with firm resolve, ensuring they could all hear. "At least, not under these circumstances. Sooner or later, we'll either be blown up, burned to death, suffocated, or die from exhaustion."
The fox and the yellow dog both fell silent. The three of us exchanged glances, all understanding the truth in that statement.
"I'll hold him off," Bert said. "You two continue on. Finish your journey."
The resolute expression on the yellow dog's face almost made me falter.
"You can barely stand, can you?" As someone who was about to collapse any moment, I was well aware of the signs of weakness revealed in his body language.
"I said I'll hold him off, not dance with him." Bert shrugged, acknowledging the truth. "I'm a member of the Council, protected by rules. You don't have to worry about me."
"If you say so." I sighed.
"Abel..." 74258 softly protested, rising to try to stop the yellow dog.
"No, it's alright." Bert waved a hand and smiled. "This was the path I chose." He raised his hand to his head, only then realizing his hat had long since disappeared, and let out a few self-deprecating laughs. "It was an honor to see you through to the end. The journey was short, but interesting." He nodded to each of us in turn.
74258 looked to me for support, but I shook my head gently.
"I lift my lamp beside the golden door," Bert whispered, gently patting 74258's arm before turning to leave.
"Not going to say goodbye to me?" I teased, successfully making Bert stop in his tracks and walk back toward me.
"I thought you weren't into this kind of thing," the yellow dog smiled.
"Oh, that hurts." Bert tilted his head at my response.
"Then... well..." Suddenly, the yellow dog froze in place as if someone had pressed pause. "He's here!"
I seized Bert's distraction, swinging my fist at him from his blind spot—where his swollen eye hindered his vision.
"Abel!" 74258 shouted urgently, staggering over to Bert's side and crouching down to check on him.
Another explosion erupted, drowning out 74258's muttered complaints. I shook my hand, ignoring the likely broken fingers.
"Sorry, I couldn't see another way." I spoke quietly, meeting 74258's olive-colored eyes. "Bert's a member of the Railroad. If they got their hands on him, the consequences would be unimaginable. And I don’t believe for a second that that crazed golden retriever cares about any rules—whatever those rules may be." I gripped my collar tightly, forcing myself not to scratch at the skin of my neck.
"But doesn't this make it even harder to escape?" 74258 stood up, casting a glance at the yellow dog lying on the ground.
"When I said, 'there's no way we can escape,' I meant it." I turned, trying to locate the crazed golden retriever. "At least, not under these circumstances." I tapped on my collar with my fingernail for emphasis.
"No..." 74258 murmured, almost to himself, knowing where this conversation was heading.
"Please help get Bert to a safe place. We owe him a lot." I forced myself to maintain eye contact with 74258. "Do you still have my terminal?"
74258 nodded, rummaging through his pockets before handing me my terminal.
His hands were trembling.
So were mine.
I entered a command, opening a hidden compartment, and pulled out two square chips, each a square centimeter in size.
"Help me... keep watching, alright?" I forced a smile, handing over the two chips and the terminal.
"No..." Though he said that, 74258 still accepted what I handed him.
"I guess... this is it, then?" Another explosion went off nearby, but I no longer cared about such minor things.
As the dirt that had been flung into the air rained down around us, 74258 nodded, tears streaming from the corners of his eyes.
"Hey, don’t cry. This is the only way." I tried to comfort the fox, but he started crying even harder. 74258 frantically wiped his eyes, though the endless flow of tears made the effort futile.
So, I took a step forward and pulled 74258 into my arms. He cried even more, clenching his fists and beating my chest.
"It’s okay," I whispered, resting my chin on the fox’s head and exposing my throat, one hand resting on 74258’s arm. "I'm scared too."
Then his body collapsed as if all the air had left him.
I knew 74258 wasn’t someone who would be brought down so easily, so I just patted his back, giving the fox enough time. 74258 responded by hugging me tightly, as if never planning to let go.
Due to the surrounding flames, I hadn't noticed that the sky was gradually brightening.
In that brief moment, we stood together, bathed in the light of dawn, fully understanding that we would never be alone again.
I didn’t want to ruin the moment, so I tried to keep enduring the pain, but my battered body was too fragile, and I gently pushed 74258 away.
"Finish your virus, alright?" I said, staring straight into the fox’s olive eyes. "Together, we'll unshackle everyone's collars."
74258 wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded at me.
"Thank you," I said sincerely, a natural smile breaking out. "For letting me see the other side." I followed the soft morning breeze, lifting my gaze. In the light of the rising sun, the coast of Greenland was clearly visible.
I didn’t feel any regret about being just one step away from the finish line. Instead, I was proud of how far I had come.
That view gave me the strength to turn around resolutely.
After all, I still had a score to settle with that damn retriever.