Apocalypse: I Built the Infinite Train

The news of the Infinity’s arrival and the imminent repair of the Longshan No.1 traction locomotive quickly spread between the two trains. The once anxious atmosphere inside the living quarters of the Longshan No.1 eased noticeably as passengers, who had been gripped by fear, finally breathed sighs of relief—some excited, others full of gratitude.

Lin Xian could feel the surge of emotion from the rear carriages, and it left him with a sense of contemplation. The larger the group, the more easily emotions could be swayed, for better or worse. This made managing a train community far more complex.

That said, there were benefits too—strength in numbers. Coupled with Lin Xian’s mechanical weapon-crafting ability, it meant they could potentially form a highly capable combat force—enough to establish a stronghold in this apocalyptic world.

When word spread that Lin Xian was using his mechanical abilities to repair the locomotive, people came running from other carriages to catch a glimpse. Even with armed guards keeping watch, the curious stares toward the traction engine couldn’t be stopped.

“Whoa, is that Captain Lin?!”

“I saw him back at Yubei Airport—he’s a total hero!”

“Mechanical powers are so cool!”

“Oh my god, we might actually be saved!”

“He’s fixing that massive locomotive all by himself...!”

The crowd buzzed with chatter. Nearby, KIKI, Shu Qin, and Ning Jing were prepping their gear for a field mission. Seeing the gawking crowd, KIKI grinned and said to Lin Xian, “You’re such a hit now. Once we reach Xilan City, I bet Phoenix Society will fight to recruit you.”

She said it half-jokingly, but Shu Qin caught the comment and looked at Lin Xian with a complicated expression. She wasn’t sure what he intended. If Lin Xian joined Phoenix Society, did that mean the Infinity would be disbanded? Would their whole group end up absorbed into Phoenix Society, relying on them for protection?

“Joining Phoenix Society doesn’t mean everything changes,” Lin Xian said seriously. “They’re still a mobile official organization. The Dawn Center is basically a mega-convoy or a mobile city. Even if the Infinity merges into the main group, it doesn’t mean we can relax or expect to be fully sheltered.”

Lin Xian understood full well: with great power comes great responsibility. In this post-apocalyptic world, even women and children had to contribute—there were no innocents left.

“Exactly,” Ning Jing chimed in, walking over. Behind her stood the pair known as A-Bai and Xiao Qing, both fully geared up. It looked like she planned to bring them along for the rescue mission with Lin Xian.

“Phoenix Society isn’t like Dawn City,” she continued. “Without a town to anchor them, all land-based survivor convoys—trains, trucks, RVs, whatever—operate as independent mobile communities. Joining the Dawn Center gives us a shared system for intelligence, resources, and defense, but it doesn’t mean giving up our own vehicles. In fact, maintaining your own ride is more important than ever.”

“The great human migration... sounds like a swarm of ants,” Shu Qin said, right on cue.

“Not wrong,” Ning Jing nodded.

KIKI shrugged. “Not everyone in Phoenix Society is migrating. It’s mostly the main survival forces. Like Kehua Heavy Industries, for instance—that’s the world’s largest military tech conglomerate. There’s no way all those factories and labs could be moved.”

“No way,” Lin Xian agreed. “Phoenix City and Noah might have some industrial capabilities, but supporting the interstellar army and all of Phoenix Society’s needs still requires land-based megafactories. That rumored super-sized mecha? There’s no way the Dawn Center’s mobile bases could produce that.”

“To my knowledge, Kehua still has multiple bases under military guard,” Ning Jing added. “Phoenix City is also working with major organizations like the Fingal Group.”

She looked at Lin Xian. “You probably know Jian Xuwei from the Silver Star. The Fingal Group still holds a lot of assets and influence globally. It’s more than just that Eternal-class apocalypse train. Then there’s Silent City, another key arms supplier working with both Phoenix Society and Dawn City. Even what’s left of the old Federation’s Dawn City still collaborates with Phoenix Society in certain areas.”

“Different factions don’t mean they can’t cooperate,” Lin Xian said solemnly. “Humanity’s all facing the same crisis. Every survivor probably wishes we could all unite instead of staying divided.”

“Yeah… we can only hope,” Ning Jing sighed. Then she glanced back at A-Bai and Xiao Qing and said, “These two—we rescued them from a group called the Descendants. They were being used as test subjects in experiments on biological evolution. Do you think groups like that want humanity to unite?”

All eyes turned toward the pair behind her.

A-Bai wore thick sunglasses. His features were youthful, probably seventeen or eighteen, and though silent, his body language screamed anxiety and unease—a deep, physiological fear of the outside world.

Beside him, Xiao Qing looked delicate and sweet at first glance, the type to give off a gentle vibe. But her eyes were cold and expressionless, completely devoid of emotion. She clutched her gunblade tightly, exuding a chilling detachment that didn’t belong to someone her age.

“Test subjects? What kind of experiments?” KIKI frowned.

Ning Jing sighed. She gently patted A-Bai’s shoulder, perhaps trying to help him relax. Then, right in front of everyone, she slowly lifted his sunglasses.

In the next moment, all three of them—Lin Xian, KIKI, and Shu Qin—visibly tensed.

Around A-Bai’s eyes were dozens of pinprick scars and small sensor ports, stitched together with staple-like fasteners. His eyes were a lifeless gray, with no pupils—only a faint energy ripple visible inside.

A-Bai clearly hated the exposure. He trembled, and Ning Jing quickly replaced the sunglasses.

“His eyes evolved abilities,” she said quietly. “So they used them for experiments.”

“At that moment, when we rescued them... I really wondered what was more terrifying—monsters in the dark, or human nature.”

KIKI’s expression turned grim. She stared silently at the pair.

Shu Qin echoed her mood, voice low. “You can’t apply normal logic to people like that.”

Vrrrm—

Suddenly, the electric traction motor hummed to life, rumbling deep from the engine.

Lin Xian stood, stepped past the women, and looked toward Ning Jing. “Alright. Let’s coordinate our plans. In and out—fast.”

“Got it.”

Ning Jing’s expression relaxed. “I did the math earlier—if we leave now, and the snow holds off, we should reach Xilan City around 10 p.m. tonight. If we stop by Trakama Ice Valley, that adds at least two hours round trip. Either way, it'll be dark before we reach Xilan, so we’ve got a little wiggle room.”

But Lin Xian shook his head. “The blizzard will return—and the snow won’t be the only threat. We need to get this done quick. If things go sideways, we pull back and get moving ASAP. No one’s safe unless the train’s running. Only once we reach Xilan City can we breathe easy.”

Xilan was heavily guarded by Phoenix Society and packed with survivors—basically the only true safe haven in this storm-ravaged world. Only there could Lin Xian lower his guard, even a little.

While passing along the Dark Mark data to Phoenix Society, he also hoped to secure an upgraded train drive system—or at least some info on mechanical techniques and ability developments.

In short, reuniting with Phoenix Society meant reconnecting with a central authority. For survivors constantly on the run, finding that kind of structure again was a huge morale boost.

Hope, at last.

In the howling wind, the Infinity was linked to the rear of Longshan No.1 through a custom metal connector crafted by Lin Xian.

Inside the Infinity, Lin Xian gathered his core members to brief them on the plan.

“KIKI and I will go. Same arrangement as always—if I’m not here, Ms. Chen takes command of the train.”

He glanced at his watch and added, “It’s all set with Longshan No.1—we won’t take more than three hours. If a blizzard hits, we’ll pull back early.”

He turned toward Lu Xingchen and Shasha.

“Huoge, Shasha, you two take the lead here. Shasha, get Fire God ready for rapid response. Ms. Chen, stay in contact with Lu Yong from Longshan No.1. Dalu and Shu Qin will guard the cars.”

Chen Sixuan nodded. “Are we really expecting an S-class anomalous entity out there?”

“Yeah, it sounds super dangerous,” Shasha added.

“That’s why we’re keeping it light,” Lin Xian explained. “Fewer people means quicker retreat.”

“Alright, you two be careful,” said Ms. Chen.

“Let’s roll, little miss,” Lin Xian called out. KIKI came around the corner just then, towing the PX-05 robot with her. “We’re taking this guy. Might come in handy.”

Lin Xian nodded. “Good call.”

Vroom!

Two camouflage-patterned tracked polar vehicles crushed snow beneath them and rumbled out. Lin Xian and KIKI took one; Ning Jing, along with A-Bai and Xiao Qing, took the other. Without further delay, both vehicles sped northeastward, kicking up clouds of snow, quickly disappearing into the vast white wilderness.

“Log the coordinates. Mark the route,” Lin Xian said.

“On it~” KIKI replied, cheerful as ever.

Every so often, she used telekinesis to drive a long rod with a small transmitter into the deep snow. Then she tapped her device, activating a blinking green light on the transmitter.

It was a makeshift relay node Lin Xian had designed, capable of helping them track their path back even if a blizzard interfered with their signals.

As the vehicles plunged into the snowy plains, they felt like boats sailing across a boundless white sea.

The original Palma Grasslands, already vast and hill-less, were now completely blanketed in snow. The sky and land merged into a glaring white nothingness. It was impossible to judge if they were driving straight. The nav systems had been reduced to just basic compass directions—nothing more.

In the second vehicle, Ning Jing followed behind Lin Xian, watching his every move.

“Mechanical powers... seriously OP. In this frozen hell, he just pulls a signal relay out of thin air.”

“He... he’s really strong,” A-Bai said softly from the backseat. “He... blocked my beam.”

Ning Jing looked surprised. Then she said, “That train of his is full of hidden talent. The girl beside him—she’s telekinetic. I've met a lot of powerful Awakened, but she’s the only one I’ve seen with telekinesis. As for Lin Xian’s mechanical ability... I’ve never even heard of anything like it. It’s not just a power—it feels like something a god would bestow.”

“He’s not... the only one with mechanical abilities,” Xiao Qing suddenly spoke, her tone flat.

“Huh?” Ning Jing glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “You’ve met another one?”

Xiao Qing stared out at the blinding snow and went silent again.

Ning Jing didn’t press. She knew both of them had been through hell in that strange cult-like organization called the Descendants. They had a deeply ingrained distrust of the outside world. It had taken her a long time to earn their trust after rescuing them. Both had thrown themselves into protecting the train with reckless abandon. When they had once attacked Lin Xian, she’d been terrified things would escalate—but thankfully it hadn’t.

Back in Lin Xian’s vehicle, KIKI was still fiddling with the terminal as she asked,

“You think that cult A-Bai and Xiao Qing came from might be the same as that Foundation research lab?”

“No idea,” Lin Xian said right away. “But it sounds like something they’d do.”

KIKI scrunched her nose. “Then I get why they were so eager to invite you. Clearly, they wanted to study your ability.”

Lin Xian chuckled. “If you hadn’t said that, I might’ve still been flattering myself—thought they were impressed by my great genes and intellectual charm.”

Of course he knew. His biggest value to any organization—Foundation, Phoenix Society—was his mechanical ability.

But KIKI shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. I mean, if they wanted to study you, why not just kidnap you and start experimenting, like they did with the others? Why go out of their way to invite you, show off their weird morality games, and then let us walk out unharmed? Doesn’t that feel... off?”

Vroom...

The vehicle roared over snow drifts. Lin Xian mulled it over silently.

“I’ve wondered the same thing,” he finally said.

He didn’t buy that the Foundation spared them out of fear. Their resources were too overwhelming. But Hua Xiaoling’s demeanor during their encounter... it was odd.

Amid the mystery, what struck him most was her sincerity.

Yes—sincerity.

She seemed genuinely open to different perspectives. Her convictions were strong, and her invitation felt like admiration, even recognition. It clashed violently with the blood-soaked horror of the Chingshui Town test site.

Rumble...

Above them, thunder echoed from a massive storm vortex, pressing down on the snowy plains. The entire atmosphere trembled with a crushing pressure.

【Low Temperature Alert: -60°C】

Inside the polar vehicle, the temperature warning light glowed red. Frost coated the windows and frames, and the cold seeped in through even the tightest seals.

Lin Xian and KIKI were fully suited up, wearing thick thermal helmets and powered temp-reg suits. Still, KIKI shivered and had to create a telekinetic barrier around herself to ease the chill.

Seeing this, Lin Xian checked his own system panel.

【Mechanical Amplification: Ice Wall】

【Amplification Active: Ice Wall – 8h 44m 59s remaining】

“Eight more hours until AT Field is unlocked... just the name alone sounds way tougher than Ice Wall. Another life-saving skill is always welcome...”

He switched over to the R& D Center tab.

【R& D Center】

【TRP Gen-4 Industrial Powered Exosuit (Blueprint): 2d 2h remaining】

The power armor upgrade was a huge deal. Once he completed this blueprint, he could manufacture exosuits for the entire team. With a high enough mech-manufacturing level, the whole Infinity crew could become walking mechanical supersoldiers.

Back in the real world, the two vehicles pressed onward, mere specks against the endless white sea. After about an hour, the terrain began to shift—gentle hills slowly formed, breaking up the flatness.

Using PX-05’s terrain radar, KIKI scanned ahead and discovered that they were approaching a massive glacial canyon stretching for dozens of kilometers.

In Lin Xian’s field of vision, the endless white expanse of snow abruptly cut off—replaced by a sheer cliff edge. He immediately swerved, leading both vehicles along the edge of the canyon up a slope before bringing them to a stop.

“We’re here. This should be the Trakamar Ice Valley.”

As they opened the car doors, a blast of howling snow-laden wind hit them square in the face. Lin Xian, wearing a black snow-blindness face shield, stood atop the polar vehicle’s treads. Ning Jing’s vehicle pulled up behind, and everyone climbed out to look ahead.

Not far in the distance, a colossal canyon ripped through the earth, stretching endlessly into the horizon.

The howling wind formed turbulent spirals above the ravine, white flakes swirling like spirits in the air.

“According to old map data, this canyon has always had glacial terrain,” Ning Jing said over the comms, bracing against the wind. “Now with the blizzard covering everything, you can’t even see the glaciers. We haven’t picked up any signal from Lao Shi’s team, but this is definitely the right direction.”

“How are we supposed to find anything in a canyon this huge? Don’t tell me we’re actually going down

Lin Xian narrowed his eyes at the gorge. There were open areas and some that were sheer, narrow drops. It was incredibly dangerous, and the lack of any snow demons so far only made him feel even more uneasy.

“Ning-jie, let’s search the area centered around here and keep close watch on the time.”

He looked up at the swirling vortex overhead. From the center of the supercold storm system, bolts of cobalt-blue lightning flickered across the sky, flashing against the dark clouds like a looming doomsday.

Whoooosh!

As if to prove him right, the wind suddenly intensified.

“The blizzard’s about to hit. We shouldn’t stay here long,” he said.

Ning Jing nodded. “From what we saw on the way here, it didn’t seem overly dangerous. That probably means Lao Shi’s team ran into something else entirely. Could they have gone down into the valley?”

Lin Xian shook his head firmly. “No way. With terrain like this, you go down, you’re not coming back up. Even with a full-modded, high-torque all-terrain rail vehicle, nobody’s dumb enough to try driving down there.”

“Then let’s move quickly.”

Ning Jing climbed back into her vehicle and deployed ten compact drones for search and rescue. At the same time, KIKI flew high into the sky, taking PX-05 with her to scan the canyon floor.

“Careful, girl.”

“Don’t remind me~” KIKI floated above the frigid chasm. One glance into the bottomless dark, with icy winds howling through, and even she felt a chill in her gut. “This place is seriously creepy…”

Lin Xian stayed busy too. He walked right up to the cliff’s edge, raised his hand, and summoned his interface.

A massive pile of materials flew out, rapidly assembling mid-air.

Within moments, a three-meter-tall signal tower stood tall on the cliff edge. Lin Xian took out his comm device and began broadcasting on all frequencies.

Bzzzt... kzzzt...

The transmission spread through the storm. Lin Xian crouched beside it, carefully monitoring the waveform and frequency bands for a response.

Meanwhile, Ning Jing stared at the overcast sky. Heavy snowflakes began to drift down—thick, slow, and ominous. On her drone control screen, visibility was practically zero. One by one, drones froze up and crashed into the snow.

That’s when A-Bai stepped up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Over... over there.”

He pointed south, along the edge of the canyon.

“What did you see?” Ning Jing asked immediately.

A-Bai hesitated, then said slowly,

“Death... the scent of death. Of monsters... of people...”

Ning Jing’s face changed. She quickly found Lin Xian.

“Captain Lin, over here!”

Lin Xian immediately stood up, and the group climbed a steep slope ahead through snow deep enough to swallow a person whole.

Crrrch, crrrch...

The snow crunched underfoot. As they crested the slope, a massive open plain came into view—completely blanketed in white.

Crunch.

Ning Jing’s foot struck something hard and unyielding. She looked down—and froze.

A massive gray limb jutted from the snow, several meters long, its sharp claws reaching toward the sky like a frozen scream. Icy frost clung to the edges.

“Watch out!” she warned.

Just then, the storm began to let up. The snow and wind eased slightly, improving visibility.

And then they saw it.

More and more twisted corpses of anomalous entities littered the snow. Among them were destroyed vehicles, human corpses, and massive wings—like those of bats—half-buried in snow.

Farther ahead, Lin Xian spotted a black Hercules-class VTOL transport, its massive engines stabbed into the ground. It had crashed headfirst into the snow.

The entire area looked like the aftermath of an apocalyptic battle. The only word to describe it: carnage.

And among the frozen corpses weren’t just snow demons. Lin Xian saw anomalous entities he had never encountered before. One stood out—a hulking quadrupedal beast, several meters tall, impaled through a VTOL wing. Its thick, gray-black scales glistened with frost. It looked monstrous and terrifying.

Another grotesque winged creature lay collapsed nearby. Lin Xian had seen something similar back near Dalat Town—but the one now was smaller. Still, its wingspan stretched at least four or five meters, hinting at an even larger body buried beneath the snow.

The frigid wind howled through a battlefield of horrors—hundreds of twisted corpses strewn across the white plain.

Broken aircraft.

Shattered vehicles.

Frostbitten human remains.

It was like a frozen hell spawned from the blizzard itself.