Black Coin

[Chapter 4: The Steel Beast]

13:00.

Seven opened his eyes. The light filtering through the alloy shutters wasn't the soft glow of morning. It was the harsh, slanted glare of afternoon.

"The sun is late," Seven whispered, sitting up on the makeshift mattress. "An hour later than yesterday."

He did the math instantly. If the sun kept slacking off like this, dragging its feet across the sky, then in five days...

It wouldn't rise at all.

"Five days until the Eternal Night," Seven thought, his expression hardening. "Five days until this city becomes a permanent hunting ground."

He didn't waste time panicking. Panic burns calories.

He grabbed his tactical knife, shoved it into his pack, and moved to the balcony.

Thud.

He vaulted over the railing, landing silently on the neighboring unit's terrace. He moved like a ghost, descending through the building's skeleton until he reached the basement levels.

The heavy blast doors of the Civil Defense shelter loomed ahead.

Seven pushed them open. Creak.

The air changed instantly. It smelled of rust, stagnant water, and old grease. This was the maintenance section of the University City Subway Station.

It used to be a grave. Seven had spent the last two days clearing out the wandering Rotters that infested the platform. Now, it was his shipyard.

He walked deeper into the tunnel, his boots crunching on gravel.

Click.

He flicked on his tactical flashlight. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating dust motes dancing in the stale air.

And then, the light hit metal.

Seven stopped. Even with his cynical heart, the sight of it made his pulse jump.

It was a monster.

A Whale 03E Heavy-Duty Gas Turbine Locomotive.

It sat on the mottled tracks like a sleeping god of the industrial age. Two hundred tons of matte steel and raw power.

"Thirty-six meters long," Seven murmured, running his hand along the cold flank of the engine. "Three point two meters wide. Eighteen thousand, five hundred horsepower."

This wasn't just a train. It was a fortress on wheels.

In the old world, this was a joint project between Alstom and the Dragon Country. It was designed to haul tanks and heavy freight across continents. Now? It was Seven’s only ticket out of hell.

He placed his palm flat against the engine block.

[ MECHANICAL HEART ACTIVATED ]

A web of blue light spread from his fingertips, racing across the steel skin of the locomotive.

[ SCANNING... ]

[ STATUS: OPERATIONAL. ]

[ FUEL: 0%. ]

Seven closed his eyes. The blueprints of the machine unfolded in his mind.

He possessed three passive skills: [ SCAN ], [ REPAIR ], and [ OPERATION ].

He didn't need a manual. He didn't need a mechanic. As long as he touched it, he was the machine.

"Fuel is the problem," Seven thought, withdrawing his hand. "Gas turbines drink fuel like water. In this apocalypse, finding aviation kerosene is suicide."

But Seven was the loophole.

His Mechanical Heart allowed him to bypass the fuel intake. He could shove his own energy—his stamina, his bio-electricity—directly into the drive shaft.

"I am the battery," Seven realized, looking at his own hands. "But I'm a small battery for a big toy. I can move it, but not forever."

He needed an upgrade. A nuclear core. A reactor. Something to feed the beast so it wouldn't eat him alive.

But that was a problem for later. First, he had to make sure this thing could take a hit.

Seven walked to the rear of the train. He had already coupled three modified passenger carriages to the engine.

Carriage 1: Living Quarters & Storage.

Carriage 2: Currently Empty.

Carriage 3: The Workshop.

He climbed into the last carriage.

Clang.

He kicked the activation pedal of a hydraulic lift. The floor groaned as it lowered to track level.

Piled next to the rails was a treasure trove of scavenging: High-Hardening Tungsten Steel plates. Manganese alloy sheets. Construction rebar.

"Time to armor up," Seven said.

He activated his interface.

Hummmm.

A holographic screen flickered to life. He scrolled past the weapon blueprints he had scanned earlier—including a Glock 23 pistol that made his fingers itch—and settled on the armor schematics.

[ COMPOSITE ARMOR PLATE (TYPE-1) ]

[ REQUIREMENTS: CHROME MOLYBDENUM STEEL (120G), BASIC STEEL (300G), POLYMER PLASTIC (195G). ]

Seven rubbed his temples. "I hate fetch quests."

He didn't have the polymers for the high-end stuff. He’d have to improvise.

"Manual override," Seven commanded.

He reached out. His eyes glowed with that eerie, electric blue light.

ZZZT-CRACK!

The pile of steel plates on the ground began to shudder. They floated inches off the ground, caught in a magnetic field generated by his body.

"Fuse."

Sizzle!

The metal groaned as invisible hands twisted it. Sparks flew like fireworks. The Tungsten and Manganese softened, folding over each other, layer by layer, compressing into a dense, impenetrable slab.

Ten minutes later.

Clang.

A perfect 1.5 x 0.9-meter composite armor plate dropped to the floor, smoking hot.

Seven wiped sweat from his forehead. "One down. Fifty to go."

He worked like a man possessed. He knew the sun was moving, and the dark things were waiting.

Hours passed.

Click-Click-ZZZRT.

Seven stood on a mobile crane, welding the final heavy armor plate over the window of the first carriage. The sparks illuminated his face—tired, grim, but satisfied.

He stepped back to admire his work.

The train had a name now. He had painted it on the side of the engine in rough, black spray paint.

INFINITY.

"Carriage One is secure," Seven noted, checking the heavy isolation gate that separated the driver's cab from the living quarters. "Storage is full. Armor is set."

He walked through the connecting door into the second carriage.

It was a hollow metal tube, stripped of seats. It smelled of bare iron and potential.

"This is next," Seven thought, visualizing the rows of hydroponic trays and UV lights. "If I want to survive the eternal night, I can't just eat canned beans."

"I need to grow life in a dead world."

[End of Chapter 4]