"I can't hear a thing," Damien muttered again, his frown deepening as he peered into the shifting shadows of the corridor.
Felix offered no comfort. If the timeline in his memories held, the attackers would breach this section at any second.
"We need to move," Felix commanded, his eyes flicking to his wristwatch. Time was a bleeding wound.
"Wait!"
Felix stopped, his gaze cutting back with a look that clearly demanded What now? Damien pointed back into the compartment at the dark teal-haired man who, impossibly, remained slumped in his seat.
"What about him?"
"Leave him."
"What?" Damien's eyes widened.
"If he can sleep through an explosion of that magnitude, taking him along will only be a liability. He's dead weight."
Felix didn't hesitate. He turned and strode away, dismissing the stranger's existence without a second thought.
Damien watched him, his jaw tightening. He understood the stakes—he knew they couldn't be saviors—but his pride wouldn't allow him to abandon someone who had shared their roof, however briefly.
"We can't just leave him like that," Damien called out, his voice firm.
Felix stopped again, this time turning with a flash of genuine irritation. His nerves had already frayed; Now, Damien's attempt at playing the hero was the last spark.
Felix didn't force him. With an indifferent expression that made it clear he had no intention of wasting another second, he offered a curt shrug.
"Suit yourself."
Just then, the sound of frantic, stumbling footsteps echoed from behind. Both men turned as a figure burst into the corridor.
"Please! Help me! Please!"
The man was a vision of pure terror, his clothes soaked in blood and his face contorted in a mask of agony. He kept throwing panicked glances over his shoulder as he sprinted toward them, finally skidding to a halt. He stared at Felix and Damien with wide, desperate eyes.
"Ple—"
The word died in his throat.
His head hit the floor before his body could follow. Damien flinched as a hot spray of blood painted his cheek. His eyes went wide with shock, his head snapping toward Felix in a mix of horror and rage.
It had happened in a blurred heartbeat. Felix had unsheathed the long black rod from his back in one fluid motion. A lethal spear-tip had hissed out from the shaft, and with a single, clinical strike, he had decapitated the man. With a flick of his wrist, Felix sent the remaining gore splattering against the cabin wall.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Damien roared, lunging forward to grab Felix's shoulder.
Felix turned his head slightly, meeting the noble's fury with a hollow, silent stare.
"That man," Felix said, his voice terrifyingly calm, "was a living bomb."
Using the tip of his spear, he hooked the cuff of the corpse's sleeve, pulling it back to reveal a jagged, glowing pattern seared into the flesh of the man's forearm.
"What is...?" Damien's voice trailed off. He stared at the mark, then back at the headless ruin leaking across the carpet. Realization struck him like a physical blow. "Wait... don't tell me this is—"
"Yes," Felix interrupted quietly. "A trigger seal. When the bearer gets within proximity of their target, the pattern activates. They don't just die; they detonate."
"And the only way to stop the chain reaction... is to end the host before the mark ignites," Damien finished, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
Felix gave a brief nod. "Once it's primed, it leeches off the life force of the designated target to fuel the blast radius."
"Designated target?" Damien ran a shaking hand through his hair, his mind racing. "If there's a specific target, this isn't a random raid. They're hunting someone. This is madness. If there are more 'carriers' like this on the train, we're walking through a minefield."
"The emergency beacons should have flared by now," Felix stated, retracting the spear tip into the black rod.
"I see..." Damien exhaled a long, shaky breath, trying to regain his composure. "Then, for now, our only priority is finding a safe sector."
"We've lingered long enough. Move," Felix barked, his impatience boiling over.
He checked his watch yet again, clicking his tongue in a sharp hiss of irritation. He had miscalculated the window of safety.
"Alright, let's—"
A thunderous roar swallowed Damien's response. The train wall directly behind them disintegrated in a violent eruption of shrapnel and fire. The shockwave tore through the cabin, throwing both men backward like rag dolls. Felix hit the floor hard, the world spinning in a nauseating blur.
A low groan escaped his throat as he rolled onto his side. Through the haze of smoke and rising dust, a silhouette vaulted through the jagged breach in the hull.
A masked assailant.
Damn it... I stalled too long.
The man's face was a void, hidden entirely save for a pair of pitch-black eyes that burned with raw, predatory intent.
Felix's fingers scrambled for the black rod lying nearby, his muscles screaming as he forced himself to his feet.
Seeing Felix's battered state, the masked man's eyes curved into mocking crescents—a silent, cruel laugh.
In a heartbeat, the assassin lunged.
Felix slammed his thumb against the pressure point at the center of his weapon. With a mechanical click, the staff buckled and split. Metal groaned as it extended and reshaped, the single rod transforming into a pair of lethal twin blades.
Felix crossed the steel just in time—CLANG!
The impact of iron claws against his blades sent a shower of sparks into the air, the screech of metal on metal echoing through the wreckage. Felix parried the strike with a desperate heave, forcing the assailant back.
Long, razor-sharp talons tipped the man's hands, but Felix knew they were no mere trinkets. A virulent toxin coated them.
"Tsk... you're the last person I wanted to run into here," Felix muttered, his blades becoming a blur as he deflected a flurry of rapid-fire strikes.
The claws flashed like dark lightning. Felix recoiled on instinct, the violent tremors from each clash vibrating deep into his marrow.
As the train hurtled forward at full speed, freezing wind and snow howled through the torn wall, turning the carriage into a chaotic vortex of frost that threatened to swallow their silhouettes.