Platform District - Station Interior
05:12 PM, Jan 14, 2534
—
Winter presses against the railcar like a living weight. The windows catch only scraps of outside, thin streaks of light smothered by ice, giving the whole car a dim, drowned-blue cast. Solan's hard-light slate quivers in his hands, its glow flickering across his face and throwing long, nervous shadows over the walls.
Outside, the tiger circles. Its body drags against the metal with a heavy scrape followed by a deliberate thump, each pass steady enough to feel intentional. The car shudders on its magnetic pylons as the predator tests the shell around them. Nothing frantic in the sound. Nothing unsure. Just a patient animal measuring what stands between it and the warm bodies trapped inside.
Evin lies flat, as if the floor has pinned him there. Shock holds his limbs stiff and useless. His breathing barely clears his throat, catching every time the ceiling trembles beneath the weight above it. His gaze never moves from that rattling sheet of metal. Tovin has cried himself into small, trembling hiccups. He buries his face into Mariel's coat while she folds around him, steadying his shaking with her palm on his back. Her fear shows in the tightness of her jaw, but her voice stays quiet and even, just enough to keep the child from slipping back into full panic.
Mariel gently strokes Tovin's back. Her own melodic tone is strained but steady, focusing solely on the toddler. "It's okay, my pumpkin. We're safe. We're inside," she murmurs, the words hollow reassurance against the scraping outside.
Calyx checks her father. Her protective fury overrides her earlier fear. She runs her hands over his clothes for phantom wounds. "Dad. Are you hurt? You're not bleeding out are you? Say something, please."
Evin closes his eyes, overwhelmed by the memory. He cannot answer.
The Chaos Twins, recovered quickly, channeling adrenaline into nervous energy. Jessa slides open a high utility panel above the door. Her voice is thin but manic. "Well, this isn't exactly a luxury suite, is it? Did anyone grab the sled? I really hope someone grabbed the sled."
Kade, examining a small leak of frost around the reinforced window seal, answers with a dry drawl. "Sled's outside, sis. With the rest of our supplies. And the cat's using it as a scratching post, probably. We're currently sardines in a metallic tin, waiting for the opener."
Rhea, ever pragmatic, moves immediately to Thora, who leans against the main door. Her armored plating is scraped and scored where the tiger's claws hit. Rhea examines the damage, running a gloved finger over the deep gashes in the ceramic steel.
"Thora, how's the seal integrity? Can those claws penetrate the plating?"
Thora shakes her head slowly, her dark eyes scanning the ceiling. She lifts her shoulder, pointing wordlessly to a deep gouge in her personal armor. The silent communication confirms: the train car door is stronger than her personal plating, but not by much. The continuous scratching sound rasps directly against their collective nerves.
"We'd be cat food already," Kaius adds.
He stands separate, quiet, a monument of stillness near the far wall. He ignores the throbbing pain in his nanite-sealed forearm, the sensation a distant annoyance. He calculates the next move, his eyes sharp and watchful. The need for action is a physical ache he has to satisfy.
Solan finally rises, adjusting his glasses. His voice is strained with renewed professional purpose. "Everyone s-sits. We need a c-count. We need to check for h-hypothermia and shock. "You," he addresses Kaius. "sit down. That nanite spray is temporary. You need full wound stabilization before the f-fever hits."
Kaius does not move. He continues to stare at the connection door leading to the next car. "No time. You have no supplies."
Solan argues back, his voice rising in alarm. "We have t-t-thirty-six hours of paste. And w-w-water in the canteen. We have time for a full check. You're infected. Your core temperature will plummet if that f-f-fever hits."
Kaius turns, his clipped voice cutting through Solan's medical directive. "The sled's outside. Your food is outside. The only thing we have inside is one scared toddler and nine exhausted humans. We need food, and we need a way to kill the beast outside. We deal with it now, or we freeze here."
Calyx, having confirmed her father is merely in shock, not bleeding, looks at the sealed door leading to the next car. A curious, frustrated spark lights her sharp, expressive eyes. She hates being trapped. "Great," she says, her voice dripping with boredom. "The world's ending, and I'm stuck here watching the baby drool. If we're going to be sardines, I'm going to see if the next car has a better view."
Evin finally finds his voice, raw and strained from fear. "Calyx, stay put. Do not move, I mean it. You saw what happened to me!"
Calyx ignores them both. She stands, moving with a teenager's effortless motion toward the adjacent door on the track-side of the car, opposite the door the tiger attacks. She works a small, scavenged tool into the connection crack, determined to find a way out of the current prison.
She grips the release handle and hauls. The mechanism screams against the ice lock, then yields with a violent SHUNK.
A blast of freezing wind, needles of ice, and the immediate, raw scent of the Grand Concourse slams into the car. The door opens only a narrow gap, maybe six inches, but it's enough to let the ambient cold rush in.
Calyx leans out, her face a mask of fierce curiosity and defiance, peering into the shadows on the mag-lev platform. She calls back, voice shaky, "It's open! The main track's clear! I think we can—"
The tiger, drawn by the sound of the locking mechanism giving way, smashes toward the car from the direction of the distant kiosks. Its massive claw, the size of a dinner plate, rips through the six-inch gap, tearing into the air where Calyx's head was seconds before.
Calyx screams, a raw, sharp sound of pure terror. The claws snag only her hood, ripping the fabric with a sound like wet canvas tearing.
Kaius moves like a sprung trap. He lunges across the car, pulling Calyx back inside by the collar of her jacket just as the tiger's head slams into the open gap. Its massive, burnt muzzle wedges into the opening, teeth flashing and straining to reach the prey it knows is there.
Kaius pivots his body away from the door, pulling Calyx tight against his chest with his uninjured arm. With his right hand, he drives his combat knife forward, aiming not for the kill, but for the immediate sensory disruption. The blade slices the tiger across the bridge of its nose, twice, shallow but devastatingly accurate.
The tiger roars a pained, deafening sound of surprise and agony. The fresh flow of blood across its sensitive olfactory ridges blinds it to everything but pain.
Kaius uses the roar and the brief stagger. He shoves Calyx hard toward her father, then slams his shoulder against the heavy train door, fighting the tiger's leverage. The lock catches with a desperate CLANG.
Evin and Rhea rush to Calyx, who is hyperventilating, staring wide-eyed at the blood smeared across the glass of the car where the tiger's snout scraped.
Mariel whirls on her daughter, her voice cracking with fury and maternal terror. "Calyx! I told you to stay put! This is the second time you almost died because you don't fucking listen! You don't listen to a single word!"
Evin shoves his daughter behind him, his fear now directed at the tiger still slamming its body against the steel.
Kaius ignores them all. He rubs his knife clean on his trousers, then adjusts his shoulder, ensuring the wound is holding. "We can't stay here," he mutters. "The door's weak now."
Tovin giggles, patting Mariel's cheek. "Ta-ta!"
At that moment, the circling stops. The grinding thump-scrape ceases. The car is plunged into a terrifying, deep silence.
Then, the whole train car shudders violently. The external door groans inward, a metallic scream of strained integrity, as the tiger launches its full weight against it. Calyx loses her footing and slams hard onto the floor. The wind is knocked out of her.
The tiger launches again. The car rattles violently, and the lights flicker, plunging them into momentary darkness before restoring.
Kaius pushes himself off the wall, wincing only slightly as the sudden movement pulls at his wound. He looks down at Calyx, who is stunned, not moving, staring wide-eyed at the sealed door that had nearly buckled. He confirms her forced retreat. "I'm going to need you to listen to your parents more, kid," he says, clipped and quiet. "Your teenage rebellion's timing is atrocious."
"We can w-wait it out. Let the tiger get bored." Solan's voice rises in a desperate cry.
"It won't get bored," Kaius counters, his voice cold. "That thing is hungry. If the other one isn't dead like the first, it will return, double the danger, and lessen your chance of survival. We deal with it now."
Rhea speaks up, her voice even. "He's right, Solan. We're severely compromised. We can't rely on it for long-term security."
Solan, thoroughly defeated by the tactical reality, appeals to Mariel. "Mariel, t-t-tell him. We need rest!"
Mariel looks from the battered door to the determined, wounded man standing beside it. She speaks with strained but powerful conviction. "Solan, we took a risk to come here. We can't die on this train. If he says we fight, we fight."
"Fine! If we're going to be-be suicidal, let's b-be scientifically s-suicidal." Solan throws his hands up in frustration. "At least use y-your br-brain. How did you get that other tiger to run a-away? The one that smelled something. Tell me that."
"It didn't run away," Kaius states flatly. "I made three bullets with pheromones—the tiger's saliva, concentrated. It confused the one that ran away. It thought it was following a mate or a kill."
Solan's professional interest momentarily overcomes his fear. "That's... s-smart. Extremely clever use of-of biochemical warfare. Where d-did you get the sample, and how did y-you p-process it?"
"Do you have more?" Mariel asks urgently.
Kaius gives a short nod. "I have two more. I planned to lure them to a hole I made—a trap I built to ensure they would all fall in and eat or kill each other to survive once I shot all three of them with the bullets."
A cold silence follows this revelation. The group exchanges glances, suddenly seeing the quiet man not as a simple guide, but as a dangerous, meticulous operator.
"Wait. Wait a minute. He's a stranger. We don't know him. Solan, he could use one of us as bait to lead those tigers away. How do we know he isn't leading us to something worse?" Evin's voice trembles. Fear curdles into profound suspicion.
Kaius's eyes narrow, a muscle twitches in his jaw. The accusation, given everything he has risked, stings. "I just put my life in danger for all of you to survive. Twice. I took a claw in the arm protecting your sorry carcasses from that first attack. And you think I'm planning to feed you to the local fauna?"
Rhea, the only one standing with any semblance of calm, interjects, her gaze shrewd. "Long game. You already built the trap. You just proved you can plan ten moves ahead and that you don't trust us enough to share the full scope of your strategy."
Kaius stares at her, then at Solan's anxious, suspicious face, then at Evin, who is still recoiling in terror. He sees no gratitude, only fear and calculated distrust. The exhaustion and the pulsing pain in his arm finally win. The sense of responsibility, which he had never asked for, breaks.
He takes a slow, deep breath. His voice drops to a dangerous, low pitch. "You want to question my motives? You deal with the tigers yourselves. I'll find my own little nook in this place." He gestures to the vast, frozen station outside the car. "Good luck with your expired paste and your scientific suicide. I'm done."
Solan's initial relief that the liability is removing himself quickly turns to cold panic as he realizes their only competent fighter is leaving. But the resentment is deeper than the fear. He swallows hard. "F-Fine," Solan says, clipped and final. "We'll m-manage without your unique t-talents."
Kaius turns his back on them all and slams his hand against the connection door Calyx had attempted to open. His attention is already elsewhere.
Rhea clears her throat, returning to the tactical reality. "We can't rely on this car for long-term security. The plan still holds. Where's the history on this station? We still need the clinic."
Solan swallows his pride, pulling up the full slate projection. "This station's a n-nexus. There's a plaza across the Riverspine Bridge. The city was abandoned almost two d-decades ago during the Avalanchion Event, but I'm sure the plaza had specialty s-stores, maybe even food storage."
"Expired food?" Calyx asks and gags. "No thanks."
"Anything frozen is still e-e-edible, Calyx," Solan says. Melodic confidence regains a shaky hold. "Freezing halts the molecular p-p-processes that cause decay and bacterial growth. If the packaging's intact, we eat."
Solan projects the floor plan onto the wall, highlighting the Plaza Overhang, the Riverspine Bridge, and the different levels. He focuses on the Sotira Clinic, the abandoned medical office. "The bridge is d-dangerous, but the Plaza Overhang is the k-key. And look h-here—the clinic. It-It was a m-med-tech facility. They'll have c-chemicals. I can concentrate the pheromones, and if we can salvage an old-world compression device—a fire extinguisher, perhaps—we can aerosolize the compound."
Kade grins. "Aerosolized chaos juice. I like it."
Thora steps away from the battered door, settling her armor and adjusting her weapon. The plan is set, even if the team is now one dangerous, vital piece short. Solan looks at his map, and then at the dark, sealed connection door, already feeling the heavy weight of his leadership.
"You'd have to build a new trap," Kaius states.
"I thought we-we were o-on our own," Solan replies.
"You will be, once the tiger is dead." Kaius states and keeps his gaze forward. "Got a better plan, Four Eyes?"
"You're reckless,"
"And you're careless," Kaius snaps back.
Rhea looks deliberately from Kaius's stiff back to Solan's pale, infuriated face. "Both of you, stop measuring dicks for a second. We have an immediate threat outside."
Solan grunts, the sound a knot of bitter capitulation. Kaius pivots slowly, facing the group again. His eyes are flat and devoid of warmth.
Mariel speaks, her voice firm, breaking the silence. "He saved us, Solan. All nine of us survived that attack without a scratch because of him."
Calyx shrugs, pushing off the floor. "I say we trust the weird stranger."
Evin pulls his daughter back sharply. "Hush, Calyx."
Rhea raises one hand, cutting off the escalating squabble. "Enough. What's the plan? The real one."
Kaius nods toward the glowing diagram Solan still has hovering in front of him, the cold light painting sharp lines across his face. "If we can find a proper solvent—something strong, DMSO-level strong—in the clinic, we can stretch what pheromones we've got left. Or, considering this place was their resting ground, there's probably more raw material somewhere in the station. Enough to mix a full batch."
While they're talking, Calyx's attention drifts to the far end of the railcar. The connection door they'd ignored earlier hangs cracked open, nudged by the last gust of their movement. A faint draft bleeds through the gap, carrying a metallic chill that raises the hair on her arms. She frowns, steps closer, and pulls the door wider.
Her scream tears out of her like she's been burned.
Everyone jumps. Kaius's hand goes straight to his belt. Solan flinches so sharply the holo shakes out of alignment. Evin lunges for his daughter, hauling her away from the doorway just as the smell reaches them.
The man leaning through the arch is frozen mid-collapse, his upper body pitched forward into their car as if trying to pull himself through before death caught him. His flesh, half-decayed before the cold finished the job, clings to his bones like rotting cloth. A sheen of frost webs over the exposed muscle of his jaw. His eyes are nothing but dark, hollow pits. Beside him, an old hand-lamp has toppled onto its side. Empty, extinguished, dead a long time. Beneath his knees spreads a wide, dark pool of blood, frozen into a rippled, glassy plate that crawls outward across the floor.
Solan slams the connection door shut so violently the clang rattles along the metal walls. The stench sticks to their throats even after the door seals.
Rhea forces herself to look away from Calyx's face and toward Solan's rigid profile. Her voice is small, level, but there's no mistaking the tremor under it. "He must've died there. Bled out right by his lamp, and when that went cold... that was it." She hugs her arms around herself. "He didn't stand a chance."
Evin stares at the sealed door as if it might swing open again. His breath starts to shudder, panic crawling up his spine. "That's going to be us," he blurts, unable to hold it in. "That's exactly what's waiting for us if we stay in this place. Frozen in a damn train car with some dead lamp beside us."
"Now he changes his mind?" Calyx deadpans and Evin glares at his daughter.
Solan turns toward him, his features softening despite the fear tightening his shoulders. "N-No," he says, quietly but firmly. "Th-That won't happen. I promise." His stutter slips through, raw with emotion. "We're n-not dying here."
Kaius steps between them, his expression carved from something harder than fear. "Which is why we get the fuck out of this railcar and stop reacting like prey." He taps a finger toward Solan's diagram, toward the promise of action. "We make the solution. We build a new trap. And then we find the warmest spot in this station, lock it down, and turn it into a fortress."
He glances at the sealed door again, jaw tightening. "I'm not dying like that man. Not on my watch."
—