Chapter Two: Second Line

The train appeared without sound. Sleek, modern, completely out of place in this forgotten tunnel.

I stepped inside. Empty seats, dead screens, except for one monitor overhead. A woman's voice spoke in French, warm and distant, like a memory from someone else's life.

Outside the windows: absolute darkness.

Then, cutting through the black, a vertical beam of light, fixed and unblinking. The train followed it like a moth to flame.

I tried to look away, but the beam burned itself into my vision, into my mind.

The beam began to pulse, and suddenly I wasn't alone in the car.

The track is now live: Second Line.

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