Let’s Not [Obliterate]
Chapter 195: Aftermath

Second Day 8:19 am, Carriage One, Dema’s & Theora’s Room

“Hello, dear passengers,” a gruff voice rang out from the train speakers, waking Theora from a doze. “The train had to stop due to unforeseen circumstances. We will keep you informed about any developments as we investigate the issue.”

Unforeseen circumstances? Theora rubbed the sleep sand from her eyes and found her fingers cold. She combed them through her hair in confusion to try to help her memory. 

Why was it cold in here? She was on the Campanella, she remembered, an interdimensional railway connecting faraway places through praise. Yesterday, the room had been very warm. But now…

Theora wanted to push herself up from the tiny bunk bed but was stopped by a gentle weight. Dema was resting on her, head cushioned by Theora’s chest. Small puffs of condensation came from Dema’s mouth as she breathed.

The window took up almost the entire larboard wall, its corners collecting frost while the rest revealed a wide morning sky, the occasional star peeking through. An endless lake lay beneath it, with railway tracks in the distance shimmering through right beneath the calm surface. White, fluffy, and massive clouds hung low on the horizon. 

It appeared like the train had stopped very much in the very middle of nowhere. But why? 

Theora wrapped her arm around Dema to pull her even closer and help warm her up. Theora’s body was seemingly the only thing heating their room for now, so she daydreamed of having her neck kissed by Dema to speed up her metabolism.

By the time Dema mumbled, “Bun Bun I’m thirsty, gimme water,” the imagined kisses had wandered to places so delicate Theora had turned beet red. She swallowed a dry throat and stretched to fetch a glass of water from the nightstand, gently pulling Dema along with her — because she knew the girl would let out disappointed moans if Theora broke skinship now. As she moved, she was distracted by little pricks against her arms and legs.

“Dema? There’s soil in our bed.”

“Ah…” Dema’s little moan was drenched in sleepiness, her voice raw and dry.

“There,” Theora said, placing the glass against Dema’s lips. 

Dema greedily drank a few sips. “Thanks…” Then she pulled at Theora’s nightgown; probably to smooth out some crinkles so she could lie on it more comfortably. “Must be from Treeka’s pot.” She moved a finger in a circle along Theora’s collarbone while activating a Skill. Shortly after, the soil in the bed gathered in her palm. “Better?”

“It wasn’t really bothering me,” Theora said with a chuckle. “Where is Treeka?”

“Girl went to stay by Rita’s bedside,” Dema mumbled. “She doesn’t sleep much in warm months, so… wait, but it’s cold now. Think she fell asleep?”

Theora gave Dema a headpat. “You changed topics in the middle of the statement there. I was curious how the first would end.”

“Ah! Well, I was just saying that Dr. Alp let Treeka watch the patient overnight so he could go to sleep. She offered.” 

Theora felt a knot forming in her belly. “Patient?”

“Yeah… Oh! You don’t know yet!” Dema’s eyes widened. “This was one hell of a night, Bun Bun. Rita’s in the infirmary!”

“Wait, what?” Theora let out. “What happened?”

“Not sure.” Dema fiddled along the hem of Theora’s dress with her index finger and thumb. “Apparently she fell asleep and won’t wake up? I mean, she did say she was struggling a bit, yesterday, but…”

Did she? Theora must have been spacing out. Yet again, time was passing too fast, crumbling away between her fingers.

Or perhaps it was Theora who was passing too quickly.

“Is that why the train stopped?” she asked with a low voice. 

Dema blinked. “Wait, the train stopped?” She peeked out of the window with a cute little crease between her eyes. Then, her mouth fell open as she turned back to Theora. “Bun Bun, the train stopped!”

“It did. I think there’s an issue with the engine. The train might be out of power. That’s why it’s cold.”

“Oh no!” Dema let herself fall back on Theora’s chest. “It’s because I forgot to write down the praise! This is all my fault, I only said it to my friends, just like Omi said!”

“I’m not sure that’s the issue,” Theora tried. She couldn’t quite explain why she thought that, but she felt fairly certain of it.

“Oh… and we met Kaylay tonight,” Dema continued. “Rita’s Knight.”

“‘We’?” Had Theora missed even more?

“Yeah! Treeka and I! Kaylay was so upset. Kept by Rita’s bedside, but couldn’t sit still by the life of her. Kept asking the doctor if there was something they could do. But Alpi said to wait for now and hope he finds something in his, uh… research? Yeah. Was gonna stay there too, but didn’t want you to wake up alone. So Treeka said she could watch Rita and everyone else could get some sleep and all.” 

“I see… we should go take a look and see if she’s fine,” Theora suggested, anxiety brooding in her chest. “And figure out why the train stopped. And…”

“And eat breakfast,” Dema said. “You need food when you’re like this.”

“When I’m like this? What am I like?”

“Why, you’re all sad, Bun Bun.”

Theora let her head fall onto the pillow.

Bell was having nightmares. The train had stopped. Someone Theora had only met yesterday was no longer waking up. Things weren’t going the way they should.

“Maybe you’re right,” Theora murmured and went to get up.

Bell was awake in her room, looking sleep-deprived and a little shrivelled up but mostly alright. She looked up from a book she was reading when Theora peeked in after a knock, and nodded good morning, but she decided not to join for breakfast and finish her reading first instead.

When Dema and Theora entered the diner for breakfast, the atmosphere was gloomy. 

“Good morning,” Theora murmured into the room, though she received barely any response.

Treeka was sitting at a table with Omi toward the back side of the train. Meanwhile, a young man sat on the ground in the corridor, flapping his flaming wings to repel the cold from the diner. Ulber was sitting at a table next to him — this time, she didn’t have any glasses to polish, but seemed very content to just rest her head on her hand while leaning over the desk, talking. Her vest looked slightly crumpled; almost like she hadn’t slept at all.

“Hey,” Treeka said while climbing over the miniature landscape in her pot to get closer to Theora and Dema.

Omi looked like she hadn’t slept at all; she’d wrapped herself in her wings to guard from the cold and was leaning against the wall, dozing. She’d barely touched her yarn-spaghetti. 

“Morning!” Dema said. “How’s Rita?”

“No change,” Treeka replied. “Which is probably a good thing? I think? Dr. Alp looked relieved when he got back into the infirmary.”

They sat down opposite Omi, who mumbled a sleepy greeting. Theora pulled the pot onto the centre of the table. Treeka took the opportunity to look at everyone one-by-one. “Looks like everyone had a bad night, huh?”

“How are you, Omi?” Theora asked, a tad worried.

“’Mkay,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She yelped when she accidentally jammed an antenna with the motion. “I think Fen’s probably upset with me…”

“Fen…” Dema trailed off. “Fentanyle? Crow lady?”

“Mhm. She won’t be happy when she—” 

At that moment, the room flashed in a bright blue and a figure entered from the teleportation mirror.

After materialising properly, Raquina cast a quick glance around the room, then took a little breath. She was again clothed in a bright, crimson dress, and her practiced, weary smile had barely receded. 

“Excuse me, if I may have everyone’s attention?”

Ulber and the person she’d been speaking with stopped talking while Treeka ran around her tree trunk to get a better view of the new arrival.

Raquina straightened out her dress. “As we mentioned, we are currently investigating an issue with the engine. Most staff will be busy with that task for a while, but do ask if you need additional blankets. Ulber and I should have some availability, but Entrichia, Dr. Alp, and the Engine Caretaker all have their hands full.” Ulber nodded vigorously as Raquina continued: “Please help relay this message to all passengers if you have the chance.”

After a short curtsy, she turned to leave back through the mirror but the moment she approached, it flashed again.

Out came a woman made entirely out of paper — her shape was formed out of hundreds of book pages, printed and written on with different inks. “I came to report an issue,” she said without missing a beat.

Raquina flinched slightly at the word ‘issue’. “What’s wrong?” 

“I was just about to use the Lavish,” the paper-woman continued with an emotionless expression, “but it’s already occupied by a dead body.”

Omi shot up from her seat. “What?”

“As I said, Omiaradne,” the woman replied, “a dead body.” For a moment it looked like her face was being flipped through like a magazine, pages turning and folding themselves back into herself by the dozens, until it slowed down. She turned another two pages with her hand, holding it at her cheek. “I looked it up to make sure. Encyclopedia Haverita of XVII, Fifth Edition, ps. 149 to 151 from Thalassia. Signs of death include, ‘lack of internal movement, scattered summons, sharp scent of ammonia,’ as well as ‘red fog’.”

Omi stared for a few moments. “Qyy,” she finally whispered, “why did you look it up in an encyclopedia from Fen’s homeworld?”

Qyy spoke calmly: “Because Fentanyle is dead.”