Reincarnated Cthulhu
Chapter 42: Infinity and Eternity

The London train had two faces.

The London-bound train, typically crowded on weekends, would arrive empty and depart with passengers rarely seen at the station. Dressed in vibrant colors unsuitable for London’s grime and moving with the refined grace honed in high society, these travelers sank into leather seats as they headed for suburban retreats.

They would return to London late Sunday night or early Monday morning, their once light steps now heavy as waterlogged cotton, departing the station with slow, exhausted movements.

Though appearing so different, these two aspects shared the same essence—neither could escape London.

London always stands at the beginning and the end.

London is truly a city that has attained eternity.

—Clack-clack, clack-clack…

The train rushed between stars.

At both ends of the otherwise dark sky hung foreboding twin stars. Fixed above the horizon of endless tracks, they transformed us into wanderers drifting through the gaps between stars.

This was a world devoid of moisture. Not a single cloud marred the sky. Though no barrier separated the cosmos from humanity, occasional sand storms would surge upward, as if yearning to touch the stars.

I glanced back at Marie. Despite our proximity, we could only discern each other’s outlines—black silhouettes against the red desert backdrop. The wail of Polyphemus echoed in rhythm with the rattling train.

Ah, yes.

She can be neither god nor human. That’s why she is the pitiful monster Polyphemus. Am I then Galatea, who bestowed divinity upon her, or poor Acis, destined to be torn apart by her hands?

The stars ceaselessly delivered their sinister prophecies. Having never mastered the arts, I couldn’t decipher their meaning.

—Screeeeeech….

The coupling’s friction—a sound eerily resembling a human scream—snapped me out of my trance. The connection was stretched so taut it seemed ready to tear apart at any moment; the train had apparently surpassed its maximum velocity.

“I’ll go first.”

With those words, I stood on the terrace railing.

Stars dwelled in the heavens, humans on the ground. In this strange realm, nothing existed between them. Feeling only dread at how close the stars had drawn, I carelessly lifted my foot.

—Clunk!

At that moment, the train lurched and my body tilted. My prosthetic leg wasn’t sturdy enough to maintain balance on the shaking train, and I barely held on by grasping the railing.

“Master!”

Had faithful Marie not immediately grabbed and lifted me, a serious accident might have occurred. I bowed my head to her in gratitude.

“I’ll cross first.”

After pulling me completely back to safety, she lightly leaped across the railings as if crossing a stream, then extended her hand. I couldn’t cling to my pride after the shameful display moments ago.

After losing my leg, the first adaptation I faced was walking while holding another’s hand. I obediently took Marie’s hand and carefully crossed the gap.

On the car’s wall hung an iron decoration shaped like the number “4” in sharp, precise typography.

I grasped the door handle and turned it.

Beyond the door, there was no one.

“Is no one here?”

As I stepped inside, unease crept through me. An entire carriage of passengers—vanished? I could easily guess their destination.

This was a moving train. If not backward, they must have gone forward. Following the same path I was now taking, they’d all migrated to the front carriages.

On a forward-moving train, natural forces should pull everything backward, yet these passengers were somehow defying the laws of physics.

“Did you notice something?”

I turned to Marie, who had slowed her pace.

“Might this be dangerous?” she asked, clearly sensing the malevolent aura surrounding the train.

“Don’t worry. I’m hardly one to fall victim to a few modern troublemakers. Besides, I’m armed, aren’t I?”

I readjusted my grip on my cane and flourished it through the air like a saber. Marie stared at my display with blank amazement before quietly asking:

“That’s supposed to be a weapon?”

“Indeed. Not the most reliable, perhaps, but better than nothing. Have I mentioned I studied swordsmanship?”

I shrugged and tapped my cane against the floor. Though somewhat exaggerated, I had in fact learned several combat techniques that could reasonably be called swordsmanship. I prepared myself for Marie’s admiration, but as usual, she dashed my hopes.

“Master, you do seem remarkably knowledgeable about things utterly impractical for daily life.”

“Why must you phrase it that way?”

Not that her comment offended me, but I strode forward without further word.

「3」

I reached the terrace of the first-class end carriage and opened the door.

The interior was absolute chaos.

Muddy footprints desecrated the luxurious carpet, and the wallpaper hung in tatters, savagely shredded by human fingernails. To my eye, this destruction was undoubtedly deliberate.

I shivered slightly.

“It’s rather chilly in here.”

I quickly offered this explanation when Marie glanced my way. And truly, the cabin was cooler than outside. I couldn’t allow her to misinterpret my reaction as anxiety over this disorder.

First class naturally contained two compartments, and while the doors were covered with handprints, neither appeared to have been opened.

I approached the first door and knocked.

—Tap-tap.

“Excuse me.”

“Who’s there?” came a woman’s trembling voice from within.

“I’ve come from the rear carriage. Did anyone pass through here?”

“You mean those raging mobs?”

“Mobs?”

I furrowed my brow as I repeated her word.

“Y-yes, yes, they were absolutely dreadful—wild, completely barbaric! Heavens, I shudder to think what might have befallen me had I not locked the door in time.”

Her voice quavered as she spoke, evidently picturing some horrific scenario.

“Did anyone else come through?”

“Someone else?”

“A man approximately my age.”

“Ah, yes. There was indeed. That… slightly malodorous gentleman with the rather ‘common’ accent?”

The woman carefully revealed her disdain.

“He asked similar questions and proceeded forward.”

I felt relieved knowing that the man ahead had passed through safely.

“Thank you.”

“Do be careful yourself. Those people are… savages, really. Best leave quickly—one never knows what they might do should they return.”

I thanked her and approached the next compartment door.

I knocked again.

—Tap-tap.

“Who goes there?”

“I’ve come from the rear carriage. Might I inquire about what transpired?”

An indignant male voice responded from within.

“Ah! You’re asking about those insufferable louts! Even such brutish creatures knocked politely at first.”

“Could I trouble you for the details?”

“Why should I oblige? But… I suppose I’ll tell you. Not much else to occupy my time.”

He cleared his throat theatrically before launching into his account.

“They knocked politely at first, as I’ve mentioned. I inquired: ‘Who is it?’ To which they replied: ‘We’ve come from the rear carriage.’ So I asked further: ‘What business do people from the rear carriage have with me?’ Then they said: ‘Have you looked outside the train? Something inexplicable has occurred. Might we seek shelter in your secure compartment?'”

The man dragged out his tedious narrative as if deliberately testing my endurance. Just as I prepared to urge him forward, he suddenly raised his voice.

“Utter nonsense! If something dangerous had indeed occurred, all the more reason to keep my door firmly locked! That’s precisely why I paid a premium for first class. Naturally, I refused them entry. At that, they revealed their true vulgar nature—hurling obscenities and pounding on the door. Fortunate that this door is remarkably solid, or I might have been in genuine peril. SMR craftsmanship proves its worth. Money well spent, I’d say.”

The situation became clear enough.

“Did anyone else pass by afterward?”

“Someone else?”

“After they left—a man about my age.”

“Ah, you mean that character emanating the foul odor?”

“That would be him.”

“I performed my gentlemanly duty and warned him, of course. But he insisted he must speak with the driver, so I told him to proceed as he wished.”

Evidently, all those driven away from these compartments had headed toward the front of the train.

“Thank you. You’ve been most informative.”

“Are you heading to the front carriages as well?”

“That’s my intention.”

“Then tread carefully. Associate with such people and you may become one of them. You strike me as a gentleman of quality.”

Having nothing further to discuss, I bade him farewell and departed.

We stepped out of carriage number 3.

Instantly, a bitter wind enveloped me. Though it had been reasonably temperate considering January weather, the atmosphere had transformed during our brief stay in carriage 3—as if winter itself had descended with vindictive force.

The fierce gusts stung my cheeks like ice, compelling me to turn up my coat collar.

“Are you unwell, Master?”

Observing my discomfort, Marie posed this unexpected question.

“You’re fortunate to be immune to the cold.”

I remarked casually, then immediately recognized my tactlessness. Marie’s expression remained unchanged, naturally, but her silent back conveyed volumes of unspoken reproach. I opened my mouth to apologize.

“Marie.”

At that precise moment, an unearthly shriek pierced the sky.

I tilted my head upward to locate its source. And saw teeth.

—SNAP!

I ducked instinctively as massive molars crashed down where my head had been moments before. It was… a bird! Hovering directly above the train, a creature with avian body and mammalian head had attempted to devour me!

Confronted by this monstrosity so immense it distorted perspective itself, I shouted desperately:

“Run!”

At my command, Marie, who had been leading, leapt frantically into carriage number 2.

With reflexes I never knew I possessed, I bounded across the gap and hurled myself through the doorway Marie had opened. We’d escaped by a hairsbreadth. As we tumbled inside, the creature lingered reluctantly, circling twice before ascending once more into the sky.

Bewildered by this apparition, I cautiously cracked open the door and tracked its flight.

The heavens teemed with them.

Dozens—no, perhaps hundreds—of these monstrosities circled above the train. They were harbingers of doom, drawn by the scent of mortality. Vulture-like, they awaited the emaciated train to expend its final breath of steam and collapse.

“Huff… huff…”

Though I’d anticipated danger, never had I imagined something so ghastly. My heart hammered against my ribs as I struggled for breath.

“It’s alright, I’m perfectly fine.”

When Marie attempted to support me, I gently refused her assistance with a dismissive gesture.

Carriage number 2.

As I regained enough composure to survey my surroundings, I realized we’d completed part of our arduous journey. At last, we’d located the vanished passengers from carriage 4, along with the manure-scented man who’d gone ahead.

They huddled together in the corner of the carriage. Like ladybugs in winter, they clustered for warmth—and with good reason. This compartment was unnaturally frigid. Even London’s most brutal winter paled in comparison to this penetrating cold.

I rose from my seat, pulling my coat tightly around me.

“Y-you made it here t-too? Q-quickly, join us… unless you f-fancy freezing to death…”

The man beckoned me with a trembling hand, his teeth chattering violently.

“What’s happening here?”

“T-those birds—are they s-still out there?”

I nodded grimly.

“L-lucky you e-escaped them. Th-those monsters have c-carried off three people already. W-we’re completely t-trapped.”

His tongue seemed nearly frozen, each syllable emerging with difficulty through blue-tinged lips. He spoke in truncated sentences, like someone who had endured this bitter cold for an eternity.

“Is that why you’re all huddled together? Wouldn’t it be better inside the compartments?”

“N-no use. Th-they won’t answer. No w-way to open the d-doors.”

Hearing this, I marched toward the nearest compartment. From inside came the sound of animated conversation and the gentle clink of glasses—utterly incongruous with the desperate situation outside.

—THUD! THUD! THUD!

I hammered on the door with my fist.

“Can you hear us in there? More than ten people out here are freezing to death!”

No response.

—THUD! THUD! THUD!

I pounded even harder. The door remained immovable as stone.

Yet I could still hear their voices—occasional bursts of carefree laughter floating through the barrier.

“T-told you… Our v-voices don’t reach them. W-we’re just waiting for this c-cold to p-pass.”

—THUD! THUD! THUD!

I attacked every door in succession, eventually resorting to kicking them, but met only silence in return.

“Marie, stay here.”

“No, I’m coming with you. I’m of no use here.”

Marie insisted on accompanying me. I didn’t attempt to dissuade her.

“W-where are you going? It’s d-death out there! Come b-back!”

Ignoring the man’s desperate warnings, I gripped the door handle and pushed.

—SNAP!

Enormous, gleaming teeth appeared inches from my face. The cunning creatures had been waiting patiently for their prey to be driven out by the cold.

“Back off, you damned thing!”

I dodged the monstrous head—as large as my entire body—and lunged forward.

In that instant, I experienced something extraordinary—a phenomenon I would never again encounter in my lifetime. The world around me began to decelerate, as if reality itself were gradually crystallizing into perfect stillness.

In this suspended realm of frozen time, I ascended to a new plane of aesthetic perception. Behold the steam billowing from the train’s chimney—each minuscule droplet gleaming more brilliantly than the world’s most flawless pearl. And that avian monstrosity above my head—its face a grotesque amalgamation of canine and equine features—was the most repulsive creation I had ever witnessed. I could count every individual pore, every bristling hair on its leathery hide with terrifying clarity.

The gravel particles swirling in the sandstorm hung suspended like celestial bodies. Inevitably, Goethe’s immortal words echoed through my mind: “Stay, thou art so beautiful!”

The train hurtled across eternity itself—a domain that should belong exclusively to cosmos and time.

We ascended to the terrace of carriage number 1.

The door handle radiated an arctic chill. Had I not worn leather gloves, my flesh might have adhered to the metal, leaving skin behind.

I squeezed my eyes shut and thrust the door open forcefully.

Ah, the scene that unfolded before me deserved no less than the term “paradise.” Decadent laughter and waves of sensual heat poured from within. To these revelers, the concept of finitude was but a distant joke. They basked in perpetual ecstasy, untouched by the horrors outside.

This was a sanctuary of hedonism and temporal stagnation.

Their languid laughter rippled through the air, seemingly mocking my existence—a sound I struggled to banish from my consciousness. At the far end of the cabin stood an object that defied natural law.

I strode directly toward it, an ominous sensation crawling across my skin. A sickly green fluorescence—the most foreboding hue I had ever encountered—emanated from it. I lifted a black obelisk fashioned from some mineral beyond my recognition.

Engraved upon its surface glowed a verdant character: the number「8」.