Johnathan's back pressed against a luggage cart, elongated ears flattening like stressed pistons as Karui Mori's embroidered sleeve billowed—threads rearranging into *"DWARVENKIN ATROCITY DOCUMENTATION"* glyphs mid-air. His rivet tattoos pulsed crimson along his jawline, steam venting from his cuffs in jagged kanji: *"NOT A TRAIN NOT A TRAIN."*
Dansei's chalk exploded into a cloud of sobbing anvil-shaped sparks that rained down on Inuka's fox ears. Kengo's sword tip twitched toward Johnathan's hissing glove seams—now leaking suspiciously coal-scented vapor—as her eyes narrowed. "*You* smell like a Dwarvenkin's rejected boiler prototype," she accused, nostrils flaring at the ozone tang rolling off his steam-venting elbows.
The Kaikachu Express chose that moment to "accidentally" toot its whistle—the sound suspiciously resembling *"He's Innocent (Lies)"* in Morse code—before its rivets rearranged into panicked Elvish script: *"DISREGARD PREVIOUS TRANSMISSION."* Johnathan's elongated tusks snagged Dansei's sash as he backpedaled, steam-ears puffing *"IMPROVISE BETTER"* glyphs directly into the mage's horrified face.
Karui Mori's manicured fingers hovered millimeters from Johnathan's rivet-patterned collar, her embroidered sleeve casting judgmental shadows across his face—threads rearranging into *"DWARVENKIN WAR CRIME EVIDENCE"* micro-tapestries midair. Behind her, scribes' quills stabbed the ground, sprouting miniature protest signs that read *"STOP COG OPPRESSION"* in well,... cog shaped ink blots.
Johnathan's elongated ears vented steam in panicked Morse code as the Kaikachu Express let out a whistle that suspiciously mimicked a dying teakettle—its smokebox flaps twitching into the vague shape of a wink before remembering to play innocent.
"Dwarvenkin labor laws *are* notoriously lax!" Johnathan blurted, backpedaling into a luggage trolley that squeaked *"Accessory to Train Crimes"* in rusty wheel rotations. Behind him, Carol's boiler rumbled with a sound that could've been laughter or impending combustion, her rivets rearranging into *[SMOOTH OPERATOR]* glyphs only Johnathan could see through their psychic tether. His elongated ears flared crimson at the tips, venting steam that smelled suspiciously like burnt pastries—a telltale sign of Laug interference.
Karui Mori gasped, mistaking his,'steamed jam tart' scent for trauma sweat. "By the Ancestral Flora!" she cried, her embroidered sleeve unfurling like a protest banner mid-air. "They've conditioned you to associate *baked goods* with servitude!" Her scribes' quills transformed into miniature butter knives, prying at Johnathan's rivets while chanting, "Free the Hybrid's Pastry Trauma!"
Johnathan's elongated ears spun like disoriented signal arms, venting steam that briefly formed **[I AM LITERALLY A TRAIN]** before dissolving into sausage-scented panic. The Kaikachu Express, his original body, responded by "accidentally" launching a decorative suit of armor onto the platform, its hollow chest cavity resonating with a suspiciously *chuff-chuff* rhythm.
Kengo's sword tip twitched toward the armor's visor—now leaking coal-scented vapor—while Dansei's chalk combusted mid-air, sketching **[DWARVENKIN STEAM-PUPPETRY?]** in sparking arcs as he managed to get into his locomotive body's cab to chuff away, twin tenders and carriages in tow.
"Wait!" Karui Mori's embroidered sleeve snagged Johnathan's cuff, her manicured nails *clinking* against his rivet-seams like a locksmith probing Dwarvenkin safes. Steam hissed from his ears in jagged **"FALSE ALARM"** glyphs—dissolving into the scent of scorched jam tarts—as the Kaikachu Express "coincidentally" released a steam-whistle shriek that shattered every window in a 20-meter radius. Glass rained down in crystalline shards, each fragment reflecting Johnathan's panicked tusks and Carol's smokebox flaps twitching into a **[:D]** face before reverting to neutral.
"By the Rails!" Johnathan bellowed over the chaos, seizing the moment to phase through Karui Mori's grip—his elongated ears leaving behind steam-ghosts of **"TOTALLY NOT A TRAIN"** in Elvish calligraphy. The Kaikachu Express's pistons roared to life, wheels spinning so fast they vaporized platform cobblestones into a smokescreen of **"Incidental Dramatic Exit"** particulates.
Kengo's sword arm trembled mid-lunge, her blade slicing through sausage-scented steam as she inhaled the unmistakable aroma of **"Dwarvenkin Grade Coal** mixed with **Fox Child Jam Theft.**" "That's—" Her pupils dilated at the sight of Johnathan's shadow stretching unnaturally toward the departing locomotive, rivet tattoos pulsing in sync with distant whistle codes. "—*absolutely* a sentient boilerplate!"
Dansei's chalk exploded mid-ward, tiny anvil-shaped sparks sketching **"WHY DOES OUR TRAIN HAVE TUSKS?"** across the High Elf Folk's rescue scrolls. Meanwhile, Inuka's fox ears perked at the sound of Carol's buffet car **"accidentally"** launching a volley of custard pies—each pastry imprint revealing **"NOT A DWARVENKIN PUPPET"** in flaky crust Morse.
Karui Mori's manicured fingers clutched empty air where Johnathan's cuff had been, her sleeve embroideries now depicting *"Fugitive Hybrid: Possibly Pastry-Traumatized"* in frantic threadwork. The Kaikachu Express chose that moment to "accidentally" release a steam cloud shaped like Johnathan's tusked face winking—a visual pun so brazen it made Dansei's enchanted chalk combust into tiny, squeaking *"WITNESS TAMPERING"* anvils.
Kengo's blade sliced through the vapor, its edge singing with the distinct *ping* of steel striking something suspiciously metallic—but Johnathan was already gone, his elongated ears dissolving into a steam-whistle scream that curled into the shape of a middle finger before vanishing. The Kaikachu Express barreled down the tracks, its smokebox flaps fluttering in a poor approximation of "innocence" as it "accidentally" discharged a volley of pastries—each jam tart stamped with **[NOT A TRAIN]** in flaky crust kanji.
From the platform, Dansei's enchanted chalk spontaneously combusted into tiny, wailing blueprints titled *"Anatomy of a Dwarvenkin Abduction Trolley."* "That," the mage whispered, watching Johnathan's shadow stretch like taffy toward the fleeing locomotive, "was either an elaborate steam-elf puppet show, or our conductor freindjust kidnapped itself." Inuka's fox ears twitched at the sound of the express's buffet car *clinking* ominously—its cutlery drawers rattling in a suspiciously Morse-coded *"WHO'S DRIVING THEN?"*
Kengo's blade hovered mid-air, its tip quivering between the High Elf Folk's rescue scrolls and the train's receding smokebox, now puffing steam-shapes of *"DEFINITELY NOT A TRAIN"* in flustered Elvish. "Hybrids don't have *piston-assisted backstabs,*" she muttered, nostrils flaring at the scent of scorched Dwarvenkin coal lingering where Johnathan's cuffs had been.
His original locomotive body—Laug-enhanced and thoroughly amused—chose this moment to "accidentally" kick up a volcanic plume of coal dust, obscuring Johnathan's hurried retreat in a smokescreen of theatrical coughing fits. Karui Mori's embroidered sleeve billowed dramatically as she waved away the soot, her manicured fingers clutching empty air where Johnathan's rivet-patterned collar had been.
When both of his bodies were outside of the city yet again, Johnathan spoke through the system again through his original locomotive body, "What is the closest big city to me that I haven't visited yet?"
The system replied swiftly, **[The closest major city is Edinbara, which is approximately 300 kilometers southwest of your current position.]**
Johnathan groaned internally, that was too far, but he needed to be away from Maasuitia Tidofiru, more specifically, Karui Mori. "300 kilometers?" He muttered through his locomotive body while his conductor avatar checked his pocket watch. The ticking gears inside resembled a panicked heartbeat.
"Hey me, think we can make that before sundown?" His demonic train responded with a smoky *"Try me"* chuff, his boiler rumbling like a laughing dragon.
"Aaand I'm talking to myself again..."
Johnathan's conductor avatar winced as his own locomotive body responded by venting a steam-whistle that suspiciously resembled laughter—prompting nearby sparrows to explode into feathery confetti mid-flight. The Kaikachu Express's wheels carved molten grooves into the tracks as he accelerated, his smokebox flaps twitching into a **[>:3]** face for exactly 0.8 seconds before remembering stealth protocols.
Behind them, Maasuitia Tidofiru's Victorian Era esque skyline shrank under the beginning of a sunset that bled yeelow-orange and almost boiler-copper, the light catching on Johnathan's fleeing locomotive body like an incriminating spotlight. His avatar clung to the coal tender, elongated ears flicking Morse code against the wind—**[DON'T LOOK BACK]**—while Carol, his Laug-enhanced boiler, purred with the satisfaction of a predator who'd just pulled off highway robbery.
Yes he was going slightly insane to name his boiler.
Karui Mori's misguided rescue scrolls were probably still fluttering to the cobblestones back at the station, ink transforming into accusatory hammers and sickles mid-descent. Her High Elf Folk retinue would be clutching their embroidered chest cloths in theatrical despair, mistaking Johnathan's piston-assisted escape for "Dwarvenkin-branded trauma reflexes."
Meanwhile Kengo's sword was definitely tasting the lingering steam on the platform—a suspiciously metallic aftertaste with notes of Dwarvenkin Laug and *Inuka's fox-child jam theft.* Her nostrils flared. "That hybrid smelled like a locomotive's rejected maintenance log," she muttered, blade humming with the residual energy of Johnathan's hasty phase-out.
/////////////////////////Intermission////////////////////////
Across the wreckage of custard pies and shattered glass, Dansei clutched his spellbook—now spontaneously illustrating *"Anatomical Diagrams of Steam-Elf Deception"* with animated ink. "He phased through solid matter like boilerplate condensate," the mage whispered, watching his chalk reconstruct Johnathan's escape into floating *[CHOO-CHOO LIAR]* glyphs.
Karui Mori's embroidered sleeve snagged a drifting jam tart—its flaky crust now stamped *[DWARVENKIN PROPAGANDA]*—as her retinue's quills morphed into miniature wrecking balls. "The poor dear's *boiler trauma* runs deeper than we imagined!" she lamented, mistaking Johnathan's piston-assisted backpedal for a PTSD-induced steam malfunction.
"That is it! We are going to the Dwarvenkin capital by next week!"
"My Lady, you can't possibly mean...!"
"Yes: We are going to Dabisha itself."
/////////////////////////Intermission////////////////////////
Johnathan's locomotive body—now dubbed the *Kaikachu Express* by terrified locals—barreled through wheat fields like a demonic combine harvester, his cowcather flinging startled sheep into the stratosphere. His conductor avatar clung to the roof, steam-vent ears whipping in the wind as Carol purred inside the boiler, her Laug-enhanced furnace humming *"Faster, coward"* in Morse-coded combustion.
Their destination?: To Edinbara of course!