"The Atala Project." Said Jesseme, voice strained. "Is perfect."

Standing on the top of lumbering train in the unnaturally dark sky, I was a little keyed up. I had pegged Jesseme as...not the bad guy, but could I trust something as vague as 'if this were an anime, she would be the main character?'. It left much to be desired. I'd hate to be selfish, but she was getting on my nerves. Either she was foolish or intentionally naive.

Lt. Burndree shook his head, the emergency glow lights atop the train painting his face pale blue. "I am not a steam engineer. I do not know the design or the schematics. But I know what I saw."

"The data is always fine." Insisted Jesseme.

"You can lie with data." I said. "For example, you can prove if someone has transposed a number if it is divisible by 9." I thought that was true.

Jesseme gave me a side eye. "Professional Steam Engineers do not engage with such scandalous things! To question it is to question the pride of the..."

"Miss Rogers." Deputy Constable Hawthorne's voice was cold and harsh, crisp and sharp enough to cut. "When people may die, I no longer care about professional pride."

The rattling sound of the train driving over the endless shadow of night over the raised rails was the only sound for a sound moment. Jesseme looked truly startled, and blinked a back a tear. "I...I..."

Hawthorne pressed on his advantage. "There are several groups trying to strand a full train in the middle of the wilderness, with active dinosaurs herds, Forester in-fighting, and literal nightfall, which means a Name Eater is here, something I have not seen since my time in the army in the far reaches of the world." At the imposing Constable's words, Jesseme shrank backward, retreating into herself. He continued, gentler, but still so cold. "So, let the good solider speak."

"I apologise." She said. "Please continue, good company."

Lt. Burndree nodded. "It goes without saying, we all know what the Atala project is."

Everyone nodded. Even Rock Lee. Dang it. I wanted to know more and ask more questions, but the pressure of the moment forced my silence.

"There are many units assigned to protect and maintain the defense...they even have a unit of solider, stationed internally to dispatch anything that comes..."

"Standard procedure." Said Jesseme, but more as a knee jerk reaction than her trying to override the conversation.

"It is beyond what can be expected. The flow diverged."

"No, there are controls in place." Said Jesseme. "If it was overdrawing, it would have been shut down."

Hawthorne raised a gloved hand, and Jesseme fell silent. "How did you know more?" Deputy Constable Hawthorne said. "To see the flow in the disrupted steam would imply..."

A dead look entered the Red shirt's eyes. "I...I am ill suited for math. Numbers don't stay in my head well. I can do math in the moment, but holding the entire process, the long term break down...I can't keep several flows going at the same time. But I have...the ability to manipulate steam."

"I believe that fact is not documented on your transcripts." Said Hawthorne. "I was already suspicious, as you were swift at finding leaks. And seeing the activated Star Jump Rods. You could feel the suspended distortions." He said, a statement.

Is it that impressive? Why was no one impressed with me? I was the one who probably messed them up! Sure, maybe he could see them, but I was the one who messed them up!

Right, I was kinda holding something explosive. I shifted and felt the rods jingle in my bag. I should do something about that...right? Again, I stayed silent, because I understood nothing.

"I've never told anyone. Not even my folks, because...well, just because. But once I realized something was wrong with the Project, I knew I needed to get help." The Lt. shook his head. "Besides, I had well established to being steam blind, so no one would believe me should I suddenly start spouting that there was something wrong. I realized that I needed Special Yard to investigate. My unit patrols the exterior site of the Focusing Unit. When I'm by myself, I like to watch the flow. I never touch, I swear upon my name, I would never alter it. But over time I noticed the flow rate was...wrong."

Hawthorne looked very serious then. "I assume you have proof more than vague notions of misbehaving steam patterns."

"I do." He coughed, pained. "I was never going to say anything. What would a crown school drop out like me have to say? Either it is a mistake, or it is intentional, but it is truly above my pay grade. Someone would catch it. So many smart people there, someone would catch it. And I knew they caught it, because the internal group dismissed all unessential's early, and they locked the door behind us. But when I arrived the next day, all the equipment was running, just like when I left, everything was running, but now the information has been wiped, and the entire group has disappeared."

"The group!" Asked Jesseme.

"All six of them. It is not public knowledge. They are just gone, but no one is looking. Even though no one told us anything, I've seen that gray envelope more times than I care to admit. My superiors tried to keep everything hush hush, but...soldiers such as ourselves know."

Rock Lee leaned forward. "Dead? An entire team?"

"I don't know. Dead. Or taken. Or changed. I don't know." Lt. Burndree said in low tone, afraid the wind of the forest would carry his words. "And, unbeknownst to anyone...I was not the only one who could manipulate steam. There was a fellow of good character, both comrade and war companion, a true friend. He was selected to join the Interior Security. I swear, we never breached security code. I swear."

Hawthorne was as silent as the grave as he listened.

"But even if you don't believe me and you have to Court Martial me, I will still speak the truth. There was a delayed message from my companion, it arrived days after he disappeared. It was him..."

"What did he say?"

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The good Lt. took out a fob watch, silver, and expertly moved it. I had seen Hawthorne use a fobwatch before, with a gloved hand, zooming through screens and menus with precise flicks of his fingers.

Burnbree did the same. However, after he opened the metal face of the fob watch, he didn't use his hand. I realized that I was watching him manipulate steam. I had a feeling he was pretty good at it.

The display of the fob went to a video, everything in miniature. It looked like someone had neglected to switch the camera toward the face, so all that was recorded was ground and the person's legs. There were large gashing in the pants, from what I could see. This person must have recorded from a laying down position. There wasn't much color, just shades of gray and amber comprising the image. There was terrible pounding, from some unseen door. After a moment, the noise went away.

There was a half-breath, and the filmer started singing, nearly sounding drunk as he warbled in an off-pitch tone "The Univserve is Spinning, deep and vast. The world shatters. The worlds spin in the darkness, an ocean of worlds...The world breaks..." silence reigned as the singing halted. "You were right, Jace...the money was too good...the world cries tears of shadow..."

"Steam sickness?" Hawthorne asked.

The video paused, and Lt. Burndree shook his head. "He had a very high britt rating, sir. I do not believe so. It's just battle shock."

"Those with high britt rating can become the most mentally disturbed." Said Jesseme. "It is...something we all need to check and balance."

"While the beginning of the message was...strange, the rest is more reliable..."

"I've seen enough." said Hawthorne.

"No, please, listen. Believe me. Just wait a minute...he leaves a list of things being changed in the experiment. He supposed that it was...not It is...reaching out too far. And it is bringing things which should not be here. I think...the shadow ilk came from the overflow. And...worse things can follow. Tangible things. Almost human, almost alive, almost real. Soulless. Terrible. Monsters."

Hawthorne crossed the distance between the two of them before anyone could react.

Lt. Burndree flinched as Hawthorne's hand moved...

And then clasped his shoulder.

"I." said the very stern Deputy Constable. His tall and solid frame like a mountain overshadowed everyone, even deeper than the unnatural night around us. "Believe you."

Tears sprang up in the Lt.'s eyes.

"You clearly do not seek your own glory, or else you would not still be a common solider. You risk ruining your life to bring someone with power the information. I will stand with you. I may not save your reputation, but I believe in you."

Touching moment aside, I was feeling nervous. I was beginning to have an idea what the Atala project was...

Hawthorne removed his hand, and gently closed the fob watch. The miniature display disappeared. He then turned and looked at the speeding darkness ahead of us, like a character monologuing in a play. "If someone truly has malicious intent, it would be logical for them to abuse the Atala project. The stories...may be more true than we ever wish to believe."

Jesseme stepped next to him, posing to the non-existent camera. "The old fables. The ones that decry the Shadow Ilk."

"Worse stories than that." Said Lt. Burndree, gathering himself, also looking into the middle distance of the darkness. "Harbingers of death. Soulless ones. Should the Atala project reach too deeply, should they disturb what lays at the foundation of the world..."

There was an old joke, that some of my friends used to tease. That red heads have no soul. It was a dumb thing. My pastor had always assured me that I had a soul. But I suddenly realized that...

Hawthorn shrugged, adjusting his coat. "I have been to the far country. I have walked many paths in my life. Should such a true depraved creature arrive here, where science is strong but the powers are weak..." he gazed longingly into the darkness ahead. "We may never recover."

"What do we do?" asked Jesseme.

"Watch for the Harbinger. There will be signs. They come, almost alive, almost dead. Abnormal creatures. Almost human."

There was some reason I was brought here. Some reason why I had fallen through my bathroom floor. I had just...thought it might be a delayed super power thing.

Rock Lee spoke smoothly, and without prompting for the first time in this group. "My entire clan has sworn to destroy any such beings that come from beyond the edge of night. Those beings are soulless, evil, selfish. insidious. I had wondered why I had been driven from my household. Why had injustice followed me? But this may be the hand of fate itself."

Hawthorne sighed, heavy and final. "The Harbinger. The almost souled. That came from ghosts of worlds that never were, and must never be. Outsiders to reality."

Life is strange.

I thought that.

Since the first time I got an A on my report card in Junior High, I knew life was strange.

Because suddenly everyone had expectations. I was pretty enough, and social enough.

But suddenly I did better, and that terrible label came:

Smart.

'That skinny redhead over there. Ask to borrow her notes. Because she is smart.'

There are worse labels. But when people start seeing you differently, it is difficult to really recover. Suddenly it is not enough to go to college, you need to go to a 'good college'. It is not enough to do well on an exam...did you get the best grade?

So you study more, to keep up expectations. And you do it for yourself too, you don't want to be poor. You want to get a good education, get a good job, earn a lot of money. You have a lot of people counting on you. But that all happened because of that one really good report card.

Strange, that a score can change how people see you. It shaped the last 5-6 years of my life.

I suddenly realized, in that instant. If this group of people changed how they saw me...

I would die.

I was not a top student here. I was not that cute OCD redhead who studied instead of partying. I was not that neighborhood girl who rode her bike on the sidewalk instead of the street because I was afraid of getting hit by a car. I was not that girl who collected food for food pantries. Volunteered at the animal shelter. Ran track and field. Helped in the bake sale. I was not my parents' daughter here, riding their good reputation.

I was in a literal florigen world. I had no history here. No family. No friends.

I was an outsider.

Was I a Harbinger? Was I part of the mechanism that destroyed the world.

I took a step forward and looked into the darkness ahead of the train, joining them. Fake it until you make it. My hands started to shake.

It sounded like someone messed up the big project. And accidently brought me. Right? Maybe? It could be possible. Coincidences happened.

I was not evil. I didn't know what happened or how I came here. But I wouldn't destroy the world. It was a coincidence. I was not the sign of the end of the world. I just needed to make sure none of my four best friends in the whole wide world ever discovered I was not from this world.

"If fate brought us together..." I said, and made eye contact with each one, one by one.

There was Jesseme, a professional cast into the dark espionage of the underside of business. Her properly styled hair had become disarrayed by the ferocity of the events. She annoyed me, but clearly her trust in society had been a bedrock of her existence. She was competent, but I had the notion that underneath it she was kind.

There was Lt. Burndree, the redshirt whose name I could not remember. He was a lean and tall man, reminded me of old Irish boxer poster, dapper but the edge of violence just lurking below the surface. He felt like an extra who didn't belong in the main story line. Like me, we didn't belong to this world of adventure. I decided I wanted him to survive, forgot the tragic genre trope. If he could live, then so could I...was that selfish of me?

There was James. He looked so shy, so hesitant, yet so sure of himself. So willing to try. I had always loved Rock Lee in the Naruto anime, because he had to work so much harder than everyone. The wind of the train moved his hair, and he looked more serious than I had ever seen him. He gave me a shy half smile. He could talk to me, a stranger. I had the feeling that his shyness was a major issue for the displaced Heir of a Forester House.

Then I looked at Deputy Constable Hawthorne. The man who was my backer. The man with the mysterious backstory. The man who had been given the great Yu Lin as a body guard. The man with a tragic backstory. The man who had seen the Edge of the World. If he believed in me, I would live. The first person to help me since I've come to this world. The official who valued my opinion, trusted me, tried to keep me safe. He gave me one small, approving nod.

"If fate brought us together." said the Deputy Constable. "Then we must solve the mysteries. Or die trying."