Guto and Frøya carefully traversed the rooftop of the train, seeking an entrance. Frøya's sharp eyes spotted a small door set into the ground.
"Hey, Guto, let's use this entrance." she suggested, opening the door.
They descended into the train, landing in a cramped bathroom. When they opened the door, they found themselves face-to-face with an elderly woman, elegantly dressed, who seemed to be in her sixties.
"Get a room, you two." she quipped.
Guto and Frøya obligingly moved aside to let the lady use the bathroom. They realized they were now inside one of the train's carriages, an opulent sight to behold. Plush velvet and satin drapes adorned the walls, ornate wooden paneling and gold-plated accents exuded luxury. Delicate lace curtains on the windows fluttered gently in the wind. The well-dressed passengers within this wagon were a sight to behold.
"Wow." Guto whispered in awe.
"I know, right? But don't get too distracted. Let's move towards the last carriages." Frøya reminded him.
They continued their journey, and as they approached the next carriage, a mesmerizing melody reached their ears, echoing through the train. Upon entering the next carriage, they discovered accomplished musicians who were there to entertain the guests.
"Wow, how are they making those sounds?" Guto inquired.
"What? You've never seen musical instruments before?" Frøya replied.
"I mean yes but not these, it sounds incredible, especially that one," Guto pointed to a man playing a bamboo flute.
"That's called a bamboo flute. Well, it doesn't matter, let's continue." Frøya urged.
They moved on to the next carriage, only to find it strangely deserted. Despite this, they pressed forward. Guto opened the door to the next carriage, and Frøya entered first. This particular carriage was distinct from the others, emanating an eerie sense of abandonment, as if time itself had come to a halt within its dim confines.
The dim light seeping through small, dusty windows cast long, creeping shadows across the wooden panels lining the walls. Once-vibrant upholstery had faded into somber hues of deep burgundy and muted gold, and cobwebs, glistening like delicate silver curtains, adorned the corners.
A delicate layer of dust coated every surface, attesting to the passage of time and the absence of human presence. Creaking floorboards bore the weight of countless past passengers. The seats, once inviting and plush, now sagged beneath the memories of travelers long gone.
Frayed edges and worn armrests bore witness to an era when the train had been teeming with life. But now, it lay undisturbed, a relic of a sepia-tinged past.
Windows, once clear portals to the passing scenery, were now coated with grime and the residue of numerous journeys. Peering outside felt like trying to view the world through a dusty, age-tinged lens.
Despite the melancholy atmosphere, there remained a peculiar charm within the train's aged interior. The peeling wallpaper and fading patterns, though dilapidated, still retained echoes of their past grandeur.
As Frøya ventured further into the carriage, a sudden surprise awaited her. A hand emerged from one of the seats, touching her head. An elderly man, about 60 years old, with a lengthy, graying-black beard and unkempt hair, emerged from the seat.
Frøya stared at the elderly man with a perplexed expression, her fingers lightly grazing his face. "Stortholus, your face... you look so old. Where are we?"
"Frøya, do you know this man?" Guto asked, his confusion evident.
Frøya glanced at Guto and then back at the elderly man. "Who is this child? Do you know him, dear?"
Before Guto could respond, he sensed an impending threat behind him. Whirling around, he was met with the imposing sight of a massive man. This giant appeared to be around 30 years old, towering at approximately 210 centimeters, with a formidable physique. He wore a snug black T-shirt, loose white pants, black shoes, and a mask concealing the lower half of his face. His bald head only added to his intimidating presence.
Taking a step back, Guto prepared himself for an attack, but the colossal man remained stationary, silently scrutinizing him. Tension hung heavy in the air.
Meanwhile, the elderly man led Frøya into the next wagon. Frøya had some questions but decided to follow the man, trusting that he would provide answers.
Not wanting to be separated from Frøya, Guto quickly moved to catch up, but his path was blocked by the hulking figure who had been lurking behind him earlier. This man embraced Guto from behind, restricting his movements.
"Let go of me, you freak!" Guto protested. He unleashed his unique power, causing his hands to take on a purple hue, and touched the man's arm. Alarmed, the man relinquished his hold on Guto, stepping back.
Guto rolled away while firing shadow bolts from his weapon, only to find that they barely penetrated the man's skin. Guto was taken aback. "Impossible, he must have a mutation as well," he reasoned.
The imposing man advanced, throwing a punch toward Guto, who deftly evaded the attack. Guto retaliated with a punch of his own to the man's ribs, but the man seemed entirely unaffected, displaying an impressive resilience.
Without hesitation, the giant seized Guto's arm, tossing him about like a ragdoll. Guto was flung aside, his body colliding with the surroundings. Dazed and battered, he struggled to his feet.
"You're tough, I'll give you that. I'm going all out now," Guto muttered, preparing for another round.