Chapter 10 - The Last Train PT II FINAL / A Novel

FAINT — PART 2: FINAL

Darkness swallowed the sky.

A single phrase echoed like a prophecy carved into the void:

A BLACK HOLE — DEATH OF A STAR.

Beneath it, Artemis trembled on the ruined ground.

⸻

Blood pooled beneath his cheek as he clawed weakly at the dirt.

His throat spasmed.

“Stt—kk!!”

No power. No flame. Only blood.

Behind him, Kert stood tall, the last of his white fire fading as his sergeant uniform came back into view.

“You’ve reached your limit,” he said—calm, factual.

Artemis dragged himself forward.

“One… more…”

His arm shook violently as he tried to rise.

He drew one breath—

—then choked on it.

“D… ea… th—!”

Shadowed hands clamped over his mouth, blood leaking between their fingers.

“A—S…T—!!”

⸻

Two F-Class revolutionists burst from the alley, soaked and furious.

Imgrad followed, mud streaked across his face.

“Artemis! That’s enough!”

“You’re putting all of us in danger!

You want our cover blown?!”

Kert didn’t look away from Artemis, but his focus shifted.

Evacuating…?

A few steps away, Yota squinted at the newcomers.

“…wait— I’ve seen those guys before…”

⸻

Flashback — The Market

The memory snapped open.

A crowd gathered around a small group preaching in the F-Class market.

Yota stood off to the side, grocery bag in hand, half-listening.

“This government doesn’t want us!”

“We don’t care anymore!”

“We don’t want them either!”

The revolution leader yelled over them:

“No—listen! This government isn’t satisfied leaving us to rot!

They’ve prepared something far more wicked!”

Imgrad stood beside him.

Artemis stood behind—bitter, distant.

Yota tilted his head, listening—

—and the memory shattered.

⸻

Present — The Cry

Yota jerked back to reality, eyes snapping to Artemis.

“He was with them.”

Before he could move, the world blinked.

A tree bloomed in his mind—lush, vibrant—

then instantly shed every leaf in a violent cascade.

A pulse detonated inside his skull.

He staggered, gripping his head as the air warped around him.

A voice tore into him—

HURRY!

HURRY!!

The Life Soul screamed.

Darkness folded over him.

And at its center burned a single green flame—silent, defiant:

LIFE.

⸻

THE ESCAPE

The rain had stopped.

The F-Class district sat drowned in puddles and broken wood.

A crooked sign swayed:

DISTRICTS OF THE F CLASS

→ TRAIN STATION

The evacuation train crawled forward as thousands clawed at it—gripping rails, climbing windows, screaming.

“AHHH—!!”

“HURRY!! BEFORE THEY FIND—”

“OUT, WE’RE LEAVING!!!”

Inside the platform, bodies crushed together.

“I’m not dying here!!”

“Watch it!!”

Arthur leaned heavily on Neighbor 5 as they pushed through.

“Move—out of the way!” Neighbor 5 shouted—

—but the crowd swallowed them.

They fell back as the train wheels vanished down the rails.

“That… was the last train…” Neighbor 5 whispered.

Hope disappeared with it.

Behind them, a mother collapsed with her crying children.

“…please… not like this…”

While others continued to chase after, “W-Wait—Please!!” — while some fall off of the moving train trying to hold on.

⸻

A faint whistle drifted from the forest.

Fweee…

Neighbor 5’s ear twitched.

“…You hear that?”

Arthur answered with a tense grunt.

“Hn.”

Then—silence.

Complete silence.

⸻

HELL’S WHISTLE

The phrase dropped like a curse:

And then—

The sky split open.

Daley fell like a meteor, a dark angel ripping through the clouds.

When he hit the station, the ground roared.

A shockwave erased everything—platform, metal, bodies.

The evacuation train ripped from the rails and flew like a toy.

Thunder swallowed every scream.

THE FALLEN ANGEL.

⸻

Aftermath

A blood-soaked hand hung from the derailed train.

Drops fell through shattered glass.

drip… drip…

A 25-foot crater steamed nearby.

Bodies scattered in a trail leading into the center.

⸻

Arthur awoke choking on blood.

“Ghh!!”

His ears rang. His vision blurred.

His arm—

gone.

Below the elbow, nothing.

“Norton—!!” he screamed, spinning around, stumbling in the rubble.

A body hung from the station wall—feet dangling above the ground.

Arthur turned fully. His hand trembled violently.

“…No…rt—”

Pinned to the wall by a massive shard of metal to his neck—

Neighbor 5 hung motionless.

Face pale.

Eyes empty.

Dead.

⸻

Down the ruined tracks, a figure walked through smoke.

Corporal Daley.

Casual.

Unhurried.

Untouched.

Behind him, the crater glowed like an open wound.

Destruction stretched as far as the morning light.

His voice cut through the silence:

“Running away…

Is that all this district can do…?”

TO BE CONTINUED.

⸻

End Splash — The Boy Who Learned Inequity

A grandmother smiled gently at her grandson.

He didn’t smile back.

His eyes were tired.

Bitter.

Hardened.

The world taught him early:

life was never fair.

THE BOY WHO LEARNED INEQUITY