After the encounter with Porfirio—which ended with both of us riding a Mexican locomotive from the early 1900s, launching a surprise assault against copies of ourselves fused into a writhing mass of flesh—we were hurled into an infinite void, violently ejected from the cabin we had been in.
My arm screamed in pain as I clung with my right arm and legs to a nearby pipe. The locomotive's vertical plunge was inevitable. Unstoppable.
Search VSearch VSearch V went mad with calculations, and one of them remained consistent… at least for a couple of seconds.
I don't know what possessed me, but I headbutted the screen.
Yes.
I headbutted the system.
It immediately tore through planes and movement layers, forcing a direct route to the automaton's base.
I inhaled as much as I could and shouted at the top of my lungs:
—For the love of everything you believe in, turn this thing as far left as you can!
The general didn't answer—but he didn't doubt me either. He took control, and with rails of light forming as the train fell, he redirected the descent as far left as possible.
The map stabilized.
It displayed a ridiculously straight route toward the automaton's base.
—Now what?! —he shouted back at me.
Even knowing how insane this was, and understanding that I could trust Porfirio, I let go of the pipe. Hanging on to life only with my legs, I reached for the panel in front of me and transferred every calculation.
Porfirio said nothing. He simply sighed, satisfied.
—If you had something this useful, you should've said so earlier!
Without hesitation, he released the controls. Instead, he stabilized the machinery far better than I could ever explain. The tricolor rails of light pointed like a laser straight toward the automaton's base.
The landing would be brutal—but we could shut that thing down and, with a bit of luck, clear Gemini alive.
Of course, things are never that simple.
A violent impact shook the entire vehicle.
—What was that?!
—And how exactly do you expect me to know?! —the young woman snapped, instantly extending unnaturally long mirrors to either side, reflecting exactly what I feared most.
Jumping.
Yes—jumping.
Between segments of glass and mirrors, in a grotesque chase of clones leaping across the edges of the cabins, there was a horse.
One I recognized immediately.
Zapata's horse.
It leapt from cabin to cabin in relentless pursuit. What shook the train were the bodies of its copies, parasitic masses of flesh beginning to infest the rear cars, tangling themselves around the wheels.
—Mr. Nobody! I'll stabilize the train until we reach the base! You need to disconnect the cars!
—I don't know if you've noticed, but I only have one arm!
—Then do it with your mouth! If the wheels stop, the rails will vanish and we'll fall into the abyss!
—No one motivates quite like you, do they?!
And just like that, it began.
With a sharp maneuver, she stabilized the locomotive just enough for movement to be possible. Gravity still clawed at us, but pressed against the wall, I crawled through pipes and shattered windows until I reached the access door—which opened on its own.
She had opened it from the cabin, giving me a quick nod of approval. I had no other choice.
Holding my left arm tight, I flattened myself against the wall. The cars were being consumed from the ceiling by flesh. The clones no longer had shape—only spreading stains.
At the coupling, there was only a spark plug. I wanted to believe it could be released with a lever or tool, but no—it was perfectly sealed with some kind of magic. Asking Porfirio for help was pointless, especially with Zapata so close.
The moment I tried to crouch, the first shot rang out.
Zapata—mounted on his horse, now in freefall—was descending toward the cars. He landed on the farthest one, atop the mangled remains of his own copies. As soon as he steadied himself, he fired.
The bullet struck my left shoulder.
—For fuck's sake, just what I needed!
The impact slammed me into the floor. The burning pain was unbearable, but collapsing saved me from his line of sight.
He would reach me soon.
At the same time, the flesh began creeping along the rails of light.
I didn't want to accept it—but I had no other choice.
My body shaking, I could only activate Null INull INull I.
When Zapata jumped again toward me, all he saw was an open door. He fell into the second car. It wouldn't take long for him to reach the last one—and the control cabin.
Watching blood slide down my ruined arm, I did the only thing I could think of…
I gathered what little courage I had left, took a deep breath, and—
—AHHHHHH!
My scream echoed louder than the rails themselves.
I don't know what Zapata saw during his final leap. In midair, it was me—knife in hand, propelled by my right arm and every ounce of power my barely unlocked level two could give me.
The cut was clean.
There was far less resistance than I expected—like slicing through paper. The cars detached and fell in a straight line. The tricolor rails vanished, stripped of resistance, and disappeared into the abyss.
Zapata tried to jump and grabbed onto the edge mid-fall. He activated his star to propel himself forward—but it was too late. He ran with everything he had, yet still had to leap.
That was when Porfirio—having left the cabin—pulled out a revolver, entirely silver.
Instinctively, I shouted:
—Now!
I didn't need to explain. Porfirio understood instantly and fired a clean shot at Zapata.
Or so I thought.
Zapata leapt off his horse just before the bullet hit. I still don't know how. The shot barely grazed his leg as he flew through the air.
—I always admired your tenacity, Zapata. Shame the road ends here.
Behind me, all I could hear was the machinery shattering as it crashed into the ground.