His Train’s Horn Still Whistles for Disaster

Eloi charged at Solomon first, his silvery arm fully retracted. He swung a hook, and Solomon blocked it. He swung back, and Eloi leaned away. He ducked under his arms and reached for the handkerchief, only for Solomon to snatch his wrist. He kicked Eloi away, knocking his hat off in the process. He turned around toward Cherry right in time before she could stealthily grab the cloth.

Now caught, Cherry had a split-second moment of hesitation, frantically debating whether she should back away or just go for it, but before she made her decision, Solomon grabbed her wrist and flung her into the grass.

Theodore rushed past her and charged at him next. He threw a handful of dirt at his face, forcing him to shield his eyes. As fast as he could, he reached for the handkerchief, and while doing so, he manifested a wall of geometric slabs right before Solomon could reach him. His hand bounced away, causing him to stagger in his steps.

“Hah!” Theodore sneered. “I saw that coming a mile away—”

Solomon smashed his shield with a more forceful punch and kneed him in the gut.

As Theodore clutched his stomach and dramatically rolled around the grass, Cherry forced herself back up and charged at Solomon simultaneously with Eloi. She swung an arm, throwing a wave of golden-white sparks and flashing them before Solomon’s eyes. He shut his eyes, and with that opening, Eloi punched at his jaw, causing him to stumble backward. He continued to swing his fists, and while Solomon blocked all his blows, Cherry scurried toward his sides.

With a grunt, Solomon swung a leg and kicked Cherry and Eloi off their feet, crashing them into Theodore, who barely managed to get back up before collapsing again.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Theodore grumbled, his face buried in the soil.

“Oww,” Cherry croaked, rubbing her hips.

“Ugh, why is he so strong?” Eloi grumbled, his silver arm twitching.

Solomon turned to Charlie and Penelope next, both remaining still this whole time. “Are you not going to face me?”

“Uh, I was about to, but…” Charlie turned to Penelope, who shyly revealed the handkerchief she hid behind her back.

Solomon gaped his eyes and glanced down at his waist with the missing cloth. He gawked at her and back at the empty spot.

Penelope scratched her cheek. “I… snatched it while you fought with Loid.”

“R-Really now? I didn’t sense you at all!” said Solomon.

“Yep, that confirms it,” Theodore croaked. “Penelope’s specialty is stealth.”

Eloi sighed and grinned to himself. “She never fails to impress me,” he murmured.

“You stole the words right out of my mind,” said Cherry. She stood up, dusting the grass and soil off her clothes. She winced and hunched over, rubbing her aching sides. “O-Ow, that hurts…”

“Ugh, tell me about it.” Theodore stood up next and messaged his shoulders, and Eloi followed suit, retrieving his hat and planting it back on.

A soft handclap made everyone turn to the balcony, facing Horace as he stood by the door. “Very impressive for a first training session,” he said.

“Oh? You’re already back?” asked Solomon. “Have you finished preparing the clothes?”

Horace narrowed his eyes as a hint of unease and confusion grew in his expression. “Not quite,” he said sternly. “As a matter of fact, I can no longer accomplish that task.”

“What do you mean?”

Horace turned around. “You all should come and see for yourself,” he said, walking away. “Follow me.”

✦☆✦

Everyone dropped their jaws and widened their eyes in disbelief as they surveyed Penelope’s utterly empty workshop. The tables and shelves left faint traces of dust where inventions once rested.

The mechanic rapidly blinked around and rubbed her eyes. “Eh? Eh? Ehh?”

“No freaking way!” Cherry cried distraughtly, her voice eerily echoing around the spacious room. “Where did all her inventions go?!”

Eloi stared at Horace, who frowned back at him. “While organizing the fabrics, Ren appeared to me out of nowhere with the utmost urgency,” he said. “Sensing his haste, I briefly summarized our situation to him, and in return, he simply told me he ‘completely screwed things up.’ He teleported everything—along with the fabric and the list of measurements—with him and told me to ‘prepare for hell just in case’ without giving me a chance to ask anything. I’ve… never seen him so terribly panicked before.”

Charlie raised a brow. “He screwed something up so badly that he’s panicking? Wasn’t he supposed to interrogate the assassins?”

“And what does he mean by ‘prepare for hell?’” Cherry asked.

Solomon scratched his scruffy chin and paced around. “Panicked? That man lost his composure? Impossible,” he mumbled. “Did Ren say anything else?”

Horace shook his head.

Cherry glanced at Theodore, and catching her curious, expectant gaze, he smirked and whipped out a pair of fake glasses with a curly black mustache from his pockets. He put it on and stroked its mustache as he paced around.

“Where the hell did he get those glasses from?” Charlie whispered.

“He likes to carry them with him at all times for situations like these,” Cherry whispered back.

“But why though?”

“Because he thinks it's cool.”

“Since Ren did end up returning to Horace—as we’ve been expecting,” Theodore began, “I’ll assume he finished his interrogations and learned something worth panicking for. If he said he screwed up, then that means, the assassins he interrogated with probably gained some sort of advantage without killing Horace somehow. In other words…” He stopped and scratched his head. “Horace wasn’t their target after all? Or rather, was he just a distraction?”

“The assassination attempt on me was a distraction?” Horace rubbed his chin. “You mean to say they were targeting someone else?”

“Probably? Do you remember anyone important hanging around in your headquarters that night?”

“Well, I did invite a street performer—Rouge Roulette—to my stage.”

“Rouge Roulette was there?!” Cherry exclaimed, bulging her eyes. “My second—no, my new favorite celebrity was there?!”

“Ahaha, yes, she’s a rising star in the capital. If I had known you were still alive before I last saw her, I would’ve asked for an autograph for you. I’m terribly sorry.”

Cherry inhaled and shook her head. “It-it’s alright,” she said. “Is she doing well?”

“Certainly. She appears to be fine, and I don’t believe she’s a target—not when she’s adored by my employees.”

“Gosh, I hope so.”

“Then, can you think of anyone else important?” asked Theodore.

Horace narrowed his eyes, pondering to himself. “Perhaps… Ortrone?”

Solomon widened his eyes while Cherry dropped her jaw. “Mister Ortrone was there too?” she asked.

“Who?” asked Eloi.

“He’s a train conductor who’s friends with our mother,” said Charlie. “And he’s supposedly Ren’s and Solomon’s friend too…”

Everyone turned to the man in question, his face turning pale with a sudden realization.

“Father?” Penelope patted his arm.

Solomon clutched his head and paced around. “Ortrone being a target doesn’t sound so unlikely,” he muttered. “No, I take that back. He has every reason to be targeted. His train… his train was once a weapon of war…”

Cherry blinked. “I beg your pardon? Weapon of war? You mean to say the train Charlie and I used to always play in was a weapon?!”

“...By consuming a considerable amount of Crimoire, it can be strong enough to obliterate fortresses,” Solomon muttered.

“Woah, that sounds awesome,” said Theodore before abruptly shaking his head. “Er, back on topic. If what you say is true, and that they’re after Otrone, then chances are…”

Solomon swallowed. “Someone is planning to seize his train. But, this also brings up another question. Just who exactly found out about Ortrone’s train? Only his friends would’ve known about it, and I find it hard to believe that anyone would betray him.”

“Maybe someone accidentally leaked that information?” asked Eloi.

“I still fail to see it happening. Ren always keeps his promises, Grimhilde is never one to talk about his past, and while Fantario does keep records, he would be more than careful to secure them…”

Something clicked inside of Cherry, who suddenly remembered her dream with Ren. She arched her brow and asked, “Secure where?”

“Logically speaking, it would be in his office.”

“More specifically, in Astrale Academy?”

“Yes? It’s practically his home.”

“So, in other words, all his secret, confidential documents are located in the same building that Clover found Monty’s henchmen snooping around in two years ago.”

Everyone else widened their eyes in realization.

“Of course, it’s freaking Monty behind all of this,” Theodore grumbled, planting his face in his hands.

“I’m not surprised it’s Monty all along,” said Charlie, “but for him to steal a train? I find that hard to believe. Ortrone’s strong. There’s no way he’s letting it happen.”

“But Monty did almost kill us all by using dirty tricks,” said Cherry. “So it’s a safe bet he’d keep his streak to get what he wants.”

“I wish to believe in Otrone as well,” said Horace. “But Ren’s expression earlier ago said otherwise.”

“Not only that, but he also emptied this room,” said Theodore, briefly falling silent as something clicked in his mind. “If the train gets hijacked, then whoever’s in control can practically rain hell wherever they want, and I'm betting on my glasses it's Monty orchestrating it all. And if you consider that with what Ren said about preparing for hell…”

Everyone exchanged dreadful glances as the gears clicked.

“Just one moment,” said Theodore, turning to his sister. “Penelope and I need to confirm one last thing.” She instantly understood his intentions the moment she read his expression, and the two rushed out of the workshop and checked the bedrooms, the library, and the rest of the rooms in the mansion. By the time they returned, fear and anxiety warped their sweaty faces.

“What? What is it?” asked Solomon.

The Vamier siblings shared worried glances and faced their father. “Dad, we gotta continue training,” Theodore said urgently. “This whole mansion is empty. If Ren fails to stop Monty, then we'll find out how fast Ortrone's train can crush our skulls.”