The iron boundary post marking the northern border of Province 8 did not feature a customs office or a sovereign flagpole. It was a cold, granite archway straddling a four-track rail line, emblazoned with a single bronze plate: PRIVATE PROPERTY OF THE CONTINENTAL ASSET SYNDICATE. TRESPASSERS WILL BE LIQUIDATED.
At two in the morning, Captain Miller slammed the armored freight express through the wooden barricades beneath the arch without slowing down.
The heavy iron locomotive—now reinforced with double-layered steel plate along its cab and boiler—impacted the timber posts with a dull, concussive CRUNCH. Splintered beams and iron spikes flew into the freezing rain, tumbling down the high embankment into the dark pine forest below.
