The four-inch steel plates of the entry gates sheared away with a sound like a artillery shell hitting a stone wall.
The reinforced cowcatcher of the Iron Sentinel plowed through the chain-wrapped doors, spraying iron rivets and splintered oak timbers fifty feet across the floor of the main geothermal hall. The ninety-ton locomotive ground to a halt on the internal rail spur, her brakes squealing violently as clouds of white friction steam billowed from under her six drive axles.
Inside the cavern, the air was hot, thick, and suffocating, smelling of sulfur, scorched engine oil, and raw thermal energy.
Deep beneath the granite floorboards, the primary volcanic shaft let out a continuous, low-frequency rumble that vibrated through the marrow of a man's bones. Super-heated steam hissed from weeping iron flanges along the gantry walls, painting the massive cavern in a flickering, blood-orange haze.
Prince Bastian was off the train's rear platform before the wheels stopped turning.
