The void yawned before them, a jagged tear in the fabric of existence. Matheus didn’t think; he couldn't afford to. The locomotive groaned, the metal screeching in protest as the wheels began to lift from the fraying edge of reality."Pull the secondary lever! Not that one, the rusted one—the one that looks like a spinal column!" Ganesha shouted, her voice cutting through the roar of the wind."This one?" Matheus screamed back, his hands slick with sweat as he shoved his weight against the stiff iron."Yes! If you don't engage the shift, we’re going to be nothing but dust in the abyss! Push, Matheus, push!"He planted his feet, his boots sliding against the vibrating floor. He imagined the tracks—not as rusted steel, but as a bridge of sheer will. The engine let out a sound like a dying beast, a high-pitched whine that set his teeth on edge. With a sickening clack-clack-shudder, the train jolted violently to the left. The world tilted. Matheus hit the console hard, his ribs protesting

The humming of the engine had transitioned from a jagged, struggling rattle into a deep, rhythmic thrum—the heartbeat of a beast regaining its strength. Matheus leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the viewport, watching the streaks of gray light pass by. He felt the weight of the cabin, the Iron Horizon, and the two women standing behind him."You're staring again, Matheus. It’s not going to make the road appear any faster," Carolina said. She was already knee-deep in the guts of the primary boiler, her hands coated in thick, black grease.Matheus turned around, wiping his palms on his trousers. "I’m not staring. I’m just trying to understand why this feels like it’s vibrating under my skin. It’s like the train is part of my nervous system now."Carolina grunted, wrenching a recalcitrant bolt. "That’s because it is, kid. You’re the one pumping intent into the core. Don't act so surprised. You wanted to move, you moved. Now, keep that focus steady while I handle the physical

The crushing weight of silence was the first thing to return. Not the empty, desolate quiet of the surface, but a thick, pressurized stillness that tasted like ozone and wet stone.Matheus groaned, his forehead pressed against something freezing and jagged. He tried to lift his head, but his neck felt as if it had been locked in a vice. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember if he was still breathing.“Matheus? Hey, kid, stay with me. Don’t you dare drift off now.”The voice was rough, familiar, and laced with a desperate urgency. Carolina.He managed to crack one eye open. The cabin, or what was left of it, was bathed in a sickly, pulsating bioluminescence that bled from the cavern walls—a rhythmic, faint green light that made everything look like a rotting underwater grave. The roof had been peeled back like a discarded sardine tin, revealing a dark, impossibly high ceiling far above.“Carolina?” he rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves skittering on concrete.“Right her

The Iron Horizon shrieked as it tore through the membrane between the subterranean blackness and the blinding white abyss of the arctic tundra. The transition was violent, a sudden shift from stifling heat to a sub-zero vacuum that instantly encased the windows in a thick, crystalline layer of frost.Matheus gasped, his hands stinging as the cold radiated off the brass throttle. "Carolina! The gauge—it's plummeting! We’re losing thermal integrity!"Carolina didn't hesitate. She lunged toward the rear of the cabin, kicking at a pile of discarded thermal blankets. "Keep it steady, Matheus! If the boiler drops below freezing, the internal fluid turns to sludge and we’re dead in the snow!""I’m pushing everything into the insulation grid!" Matheus shouted, his voice cracking. "But the engine—it's struggling against the ambient temperature. It’s like the air outside is trying to eat the fire!""Don't let it!" Carolina scrambled to the secondary boiler, her movements frantic as she cracked