No one answered. It was as though even the train components were shedding tears over their owner’s poverty.

The carriage door opened behind Ji Jue. Beneath the soft lighting, there were no luxurious compartments or attentive service to be found. Instead, sections of the ceiling had been ripped open, leaving cables dangling overhead and spitting sparks.

Behind broken metal panels lining the carriage were components covered in rust. Beneath the still-unfinished floor, a maze of exposed mechanisms and wiring stretched out in all directions. It felt less like stepping onto a train and more like walking into the enormous workshop of a shipyard. Everywhere he looked, there was something broken. 

“What a mess.” Ji Jue sighed, casually hung his bag from a screw jutting out of the wall, then dropped into the battered driver’s seat and stared at the scene before him.  No matter how many times he saw the place, it still sent a chill down his spine.

As the watch ticked away, a window appeared before him, followed by an endless stream of damage warnings.

[Central dispatch center unresponsive. Spirit matter fuel reserves critically low. Forward transmission mechanism unresponsive. Furnace of stars navigation system unresponsive. Lower hold damage warning. Emergency maintenance overdue.]

Warnings, warnings, and more fucking warnings flooded his view.

The only part of the entire Doomsday Express that could still be considered functional was its core, the Myriad-Phenomena Engine. At least that was one bit of good news.

Another notice from the...