"It's a dream," Adrian muttered.
He didn't want to believe it.
"This isn't real…"
His voice was trembling. Yet the cold metallic smell inside the train, the flickering half-light, and the grinding sound of the wheels all felt disturbingly real to him.
The conductor slowly began walking toward him.
Each step echoed unnaturally loud, as if the entire carriage was filled with the sound of his footsteps.
The conductor said in a calm voice,
"No one boards the last train by accident."
"Everyone has paid their fare with a ticket."
Adrian spoke in a dry, shaky voice,
"I didn't buy a ticket!"
In the next moment, a faint smile appeared on the conductor's lips.
"You did," he replied softly.
"The moment you decided to discover what lies buried."
Suddenly…!!
At once, the temperature dropped.
Ice began forming on the inside of the windows.
Snowflakes seemed to fall inside the compartment itself.
A storm swept through Adrian's mind.
The missing people.
The passengers who had suddenly vanished. Where?
Adrian, in a trembling voice, asked the conductor.
The conductor slowly nodded.
The conductor whispered,
"They… are dead."
"Yes. But something refused to let them go."
The invisible presence beside him moved again—this time closer, as if someone were standing right next to him.
Adrian clearly felt a cold breath on the back of his neck.
Impossible!!
He never believed in ghosts. He was seeing everything with his own eyes, yet it still did not feel real to him.
The conductor spoke again,
"Every soul carries a shadow. Most shadows fade with time. But some… remain."
After saying this, he paused for a moment.
"The passengers were not alone. Their shadows had separated from them. And those shadows boarded the train. Not to leave… but to collect."
The pressure in Adrian's chest began to increase.
It felt as though invisible fingers were checking the rhythm of his heartbeat.
"You came in search of the truth," the conductor said.
"Yes…" Adrian replied.
"Truth always demands a price."
Suddenly the train shook violently. This time Adrian clearly felt it—something was changing.
The thick fog outside the window slowly began to part.
Moments later, he saw Blackridge again.
But it was not the present-day Blackridge.
The city was burning.
Flames were touching the sky.
People were running everywhere. Screaming.
And suddenly it felt like, among them—he himself was standing there.
After a while, he saw…
The platform standing in silence.
He watched as the train slowly began to leave.
Without him.
"No…" Adrian said in a trembling voice.
The conductor leaned closer. There was a strange stillness in his eyes.
"You are not the investigator," he said calmly.
A moment of silence spread throughout the train.
Then the conductor whispered—
"You are the memory."