Exceeding the expectations of the passenger—the thrust was extraordinary!
—
Truthfully, the term “passenger” was a bit off since they had simply found the key and used it at their leisure; they weren’t just riding for free but were closer to train robbers. Still, since the train had been abandoned, perhaps it was glad to finally have some meaningful use. Or maybe not.
—
That said.
—
When the key was inserted and turned, the train departed without warning, behaving less like public transportation and more like a runaway locomotive determined to demonstrate what “out of control” truly meant. With no regard for anything in its path, it tore forward at breakneck speed.
—
Had the train been capable of speech, it might have expressed gratitude to whoever had inserted the key. Initially, neither Lime nor Kim Cheon-soo had even considered themselves train robbers.
—
On the contrary, they became victims of its unexpected overwhelming thrust.
—
The train, paying no heed to anyone, barreled forward. Like the octopus with a bald mustache, it crushed the fortress of odds and ends in its path.
—
Each impact caused a deafening roar, jolting the locomotive violently. Lime and the passenger inside, Kim Cheon-soo, had no choice but to absorb the tremors with their bodies. This was no time to jest about physical therapy.
—
In the midst of one person and one singularity losing their composure, the astonishingly powerful train lifted off into the air. While it could be described as swimming since they were underwater, the mere fact that a train was moving underwater at all made such distinctions irrelevant.
—
In a flash, the train, accompanied by a fountain of water, surged forward like a meteor.
—
Crunch!
—
The train plunged directly into the center of the bald mustached octopus.
—
The train, which had seemed poised to pierce through the octopus, instead hovered in midair as if locked in a power struggle with its aquatic adversary.
—
Screaming metal groaned deafeningly, and a dark blue liquid presumed to be octopus ink seeped out, spreading and staining everything around it a murky shade of cerulean.
—
The atmosphere grew eerily oppressive as Lime and Kim Cheon-soo watched in silence, their unease palpable as the train groaned under the strain.
—
Boil… Boil…
—
It was Lime who recovered first, unsurprisingly, given Kim Cheon-soo’s compromised mental state.
—
Boil… Boil…
—
“What now?”
—
At first, they had been overwhelmed by the train’s incomprehensible speed, striving merely to maintain balance rather than contemplate escape. But now, with some breathing room, a decision had to be made.
—
Should they abandon the train mid-confrontation and disembark…?
—
Or should they stay till the train defeated the octopus?
—
It was a troubling question.
—
Lime wanted to jump out right then. The speed had slowed, and there seemed to be no foreseeable wealth or glory in this endeavor, but something gnawed at them, something unresolved.
—
The blue mist thickened, making the scene more surreal. The bald, wriggling mass against the front window only heightened the discomfort.
—
But if they left… would it be the right decision?
—
Lime didn’t harbor any loyalty to the train, but it was clear that this train was yet another singularity.
—
Whether it was paired with the octopus was unclear, but it was undoubtedly a singularity. Should it be left like this?
—
What if the train—a singularity—required a human presence to function? If this was just one phase of returning to the surface, they couldn’t abandon ship.
—
Unable to verify otherwise, Lime decided waiting out the situation was the best option.
—
The groaning metal of the buckling train sounded, but soon a creaking noise indicated that it was about to break free and triumph.
—
Just as Lime was relaxing with this revelation…
—
“…Wait, Sosik?”
—
Sosik, momentarily forgotten, came to mind.
—
They had used him as bait.
—
But how could this be helped? The train had accelerated out of control.
—
Embarrassed yet alarmed, Lime moved away from the front window filled with octopus and stuck to a side window, unable to easily choose the option of jumping ship. Their priority was to ensure Sosik was safe.
—
What if Sosik had been flattened into a shapeless gelatinous mass in the clutches of the bald mustached octopus?
—
Anxiety gripped Lime as they anxiously peered outside. Visibility was hindered by the thick blue liquid clouding the water like a dense fog.
—
Sosik, who was already blue, seemed further obscured by the haze.
—
Impossible.
—
What if they had truly arrived too late?
—
The thought shook Lime to their core, causing a visible tremor in the gelatinous form. The vibration was so profound that Kim Cheon-soo felt like he was inside a full-body massage machine at maximum intensity.
—
Fortunately, Lime’s trembling subsided quickly, thanks to spotting Sosik’s diminutive squirming form amid the murky depths.
—
Phew… He’s alive!
—
Of course, Lime had expected nothing less, claiming with feigned confidence that they had never doubted it.
—
And yet, something seemed amiss.
—
Sosik was drifting away.
—
Puzzled, Lime realized—after Sosik had diminished to a distant speck—that it wasn’t Sosik moving but the train itself.
—
Even recognizing this took but a moment; the sheer speed of the train made it hard to react any quicker.
—
Panic-stricken, Lime rushed back to the cockpit, only to find the octopus flesh still clinging to the locomotive’s exterior. The wriggling had ceased, but it was evident the train had conquered its foe, as the octopus now hung limply.
—
The defeated wretch deserved it.
—
Now, should they stop?
—
Why was the train moving so fast?
—
Or was it even possible to stop?
—
A bewildered Lime fumbled with the breathing apparatus, hastily attaching it to Kim Cheon-soo. With their knowledge pouch effectively depleted, Kim Cheon-soo was Lime’s new source of wisdom.
—
“Urggh… uh… uh?”
—
Kim Cheon-soo seemed worse off than the octopus itself, emitting strange groans as if seasick from the tremendous speed. Seasickness itself was unusual given the circumstances, but Lime chalked it up to the train’s eccentricities.
—
Would Kim Cheon-soo be okay when they finally reached the surface? Probably not. They needed to get back quickly.
—
Lime, who had earlier worried more about Sosik, now found themselves more concerned about Kim Cheon-soo’s fragile human condition. Understanding only too well the frailty of human bodies, Lime figured that Sosik was likely in good hands, considering other individuals would have noticed the unusual event and taken the necessary actions.
—
They’d meet again one day, though when remained uncertain.
—
Speculation went only so far.
—
With Kim Cheon-soo incapacitated, it fell to Lime to make the decision. Decisions came quickly for Lime, partly due to a muted sense of crisis that would overwhelm most humans.
—
Right or wrong aside, it was quick.
—
Lime then removed the key in reverse order of how it had been inserted.
—
As the metallic screech of grinding iron resonated, the train’s speed began to decrease.
—
Removing the key halts the train. That much was correct.
—
Relieved, Lime emitted a sigh, represented by the gentle boiling of gelatinous matter.
—
However, just as Lime had begun to relax after removing the key, a loud “BOOM!” announced the train colliding with something.
—
Thrown off-balance, Lime tumbled to the ground but quickly rose to investigate the scene outside.
—
Through the window, the train appeared to be plummeting—not as dramatically as if falling from the sky but enough to make it a precarious ride within the watery depths. Recognizing the danger, Lime hastily guided both Kim Cheon-soo and the key out of the train.
—
Below them, the darkness swallowed the octopus and the train as the duo stood witness to their descent into the depths.
—
The hole from which the octopus had emerged seemed to claim them both, inexorably pulling them further and further away.
—
Watching the two singularities disappear into the abyss, Lime couldn’t help but wave, thinking, “May you two live happily ever after—never to emerge again.”
—
Satisfied that the train and octopus wouldn’t resurface, Lime redirected their gaze upwards.
—
Their position had clearly shifted.
—
With the octopus dealt with, they could finally return to land. Yet doubts lingered; they couldn’t be sure if this was the best course.
—
Given the train’s superluminal maneuvers, it was overly optimistic to assume they had returned to where they started.
—
Nevertheless, there was limited choice.
—
Besides, Kim Cheon-soo, who seemed to have weathered the pressure, now exhibited a complexion so pale that distinguishing him from Lime seemed impossible.
—
“Let’s try heading up.”
—
Cautiously wading through the water, Lime pushed their way toward the surface. Their stealth was akin to that of a master spy.
—
Plop.
—
The distortion that had trapped them below had dissipated, allowing Lime to peek out and assess the damage around.
—
A chaotic shoreline greeted them—waves had clearly wreaked havoc, leaving everything askew and groaning.
—
In the distance, the sound of an oddly familiar yet foreign language carried through the air, a voice carrying official urgency.
—
It appeared that the train’s arrival had caused the catastrophe—a sobering realization.
—
“Well, at least this country’s in this state for a reason… right?”
—
While intended as a jest, Lime felt a pang of guilt for the unintended collateral damage.
—
A chill ran down Lime’s spine as they realized their situation had spiraled beyond their control.
—
Should they hide?
—
No, Kim Cheon-soo needed to be deposited on the shore. Keeping him longer might genuinely cause him to collapse.
—
Lime surveyed the surrounding area.
—
Far off, figures patrolled the shore, presumably searching for victims caught in the chaos.
—
Hmm.
—
Alright.
—
Let’s eject Kim Cheon-soo.
—
“Ugh, ugh!”
—
Lime spat out Kim Cheon-soo onto the shore, startling him as he suddenly felt the outside air.
—
Lying there like a beached creature, Kim Cheon-soo twisted his body, eventually turning his head to meet Lime’s gaze.
—
An exchange of looks occurred between a human and a singularity. Gazing into Kim Cheon-soo’s eyes, Lime gave a thumbs-up before disappearing back beneath the waves.
—
“Huh?”
—
Kim Cheon-soo thus found himself abandoned—no, rescued—on the unfamiliar coastline.
—
Lime watched from the shadows, their gelatinous form boiling gently.
—
“Things will work out somehow.”
—
There was no concrete plan.
—
