Apocalypse: I Built the Infinite Train

The night was as dark as ink. The massive train seemed completely devoured by the darkness, standing silently on the desolate tracks.

Inside the hollow carriages, the cabin lights were clearly on, yet it felt as if some kind of black veil obscured them. The narrow corridor of the train was shrouded in an eerie dimness—

As if the entire world had darkened.

Lin Xian stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with shock. At this moment, it seemed like the only sound he could hear was his own heartbeat.

Everyone was gone.

A chill crept from the soles of his feet straight up to the top of his head. Lin Xian’s pupils slowly shifted as he scanned his surroundings, not daring to move a muscle.

Just moments ago, three people had been right behind him. Now, it was as if they had vanished into thin air. His gaze swept toward the far end of the corridor leading to the cockpit—it was pitch black.

There should have been lights there, yet the glow was mercilessly swallowed by the darkness. Only a faint orange glimmer struggled to remain, unable to penetrate further into the void.

Lin Xian turned his head toward Carriage No. 2. At the far end—nothing but blackness.

“Mr. Chen?”

No response.

“Shasha… Luo Ye?”

Silence.

Lin Xian’s pulse quickened. The sudden shift in reality left him momentarily stunned.

Hoo~

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, suppressing the fear rising in his chest, and cautiously took two steps forward.

Di~~ Da-da-da

A soft rolling sound echoed behind him.

Lin Xian spun around abruptly.

From the depths of the dark carriage, a small, delicate glass marble slowly rolled out.

“Who’s there?!”

His voice rang out through the train, bouncing off the walls.

No answer.

He took a step closer, eyes locked onto the marble.

It was crystal-clear, with swirling streaks of vibrant color inside—just like the kind children played with.

Lights on!

Lin Xian refused to believe this was real. He was in control of the entire train—he had already turned the lights on!

For a brief moment, the overhead lights flared, as if hit by a sudden surge of electricity, but just as quickly, the darkness pressed in again, suppressing their brightness.

He stepped into Carriage No. 2. In the distance, KIKI’s laptop screen flickered with static, casting weak, erratic glows in the dark.

Lin Xian’s heart tightened. He turned sharply and strode toward the cockpit.

The cockpit had large viewing windows—he should be able to see the outside more clearly.

Thud~ Thud~ Thud

His own footsteps echoed through the train. He quickened his pace—then suddenly stopped.

Out of the corner of his eye—

Something was floating in the corridor ahead.

Lin Xian took a step closer, narrowing his eyes.

Dozens of strands—thin and black—swayed gently in the air, hanging eerily in the corridor.

Frowning, he reached out to grab them.

But the moment his fingers neared, the strands flickered like a phantom and vanished.

Strange events were happening one after another. Lin Xian pulled out his flashlight. Click. A harsh, pale-white beam cut through the darkness, illuminating the complex machinery in the middle corridor of the locomotive.

He quickened his pace, moving toward the front of the train. The beam of light revealed nothing—no one was there.

Raising the flashlight to the window, he looked outside.

A vast, snowy wasteland stretched before him. The tracks ahead vanished into a seemingly endless void.

Then—

Under the flickering glow of his light—

Lin Xian saw a red figure standing on the tracks ahead.

His eyes widened.

A dark, human-shaped silhouette stood motionless at the very center of the railway, directly in front of the train.

Lin Xian frowned, immediately shining his flashlight over.

The white beam swept across—nothing.

The shadow had disappeared.

A cold dread crawled up his spine.

Then—

That marble-rolling sound came again.

Di~~ Da-da-da

This time—

It was close. Only a few steps behind him.

A frigid breath brushed against the back of his neck.

Lin Xian’s face twisted in alarm. He turned his head—slowly.

Pitch black. No one there.

Yet—beneath the dim overhead lights in the narrow cockpit hallway—

A small shadow had appeared.

“What the hell?!”

Lin Xian’s entire body tensed. With a flick of his wrist, a steel blade materialized in his grip.

He clenched his teeth.

Screw it! Who cares if it’s a ghost or a demon?!

Backlash!

Whoosh!

Suppressing the overwhelming dread, Lin Xian lashed out with a sharp, merciless strike toward the black shadow.

Slash!

The blade cut through something solid. A sickening sound of flesh being torn filled the air.

Lin Xian’s pupils shrank. He had definitely hit something.

Whipping around, his breath caught in his throat.

The small figure stepped out from the shadows—into the dim light.

A young girl stood there, clutching her bleeding throat in horror.

Her face contorted in pain.

Luo Shasha.

Lin Xian’s expression changed dramatically.

Shasha’s fearful gaze met his. Blood gushed from her neck as she collapsed.

“Sha—”

Before he could finish—

A chill shot through his spine.

Something was behind him.

Lin Xian whirled around.

A woman in a red dress stood there.

Pale, decayed skin. A grotesquely twisted smile stretched across her face.

She was half an inch from his own.

Hiss!

Lin Xian sucked in a sharp breath. Reflexively, he staggered backward, raising his left hand—

Wind Cannon!

Bang!

But before he could fire—

His left index finger exploded.

Flesh tore apart. The nail shattered. The bone split open, hanging by a thin strip of skin.

“Ahh—!!”

Lin Xian gritted his teeth, stifling a pained groan. His horrified gaze dropped to his mangled hand.

He looked up again—

The red-dressed woman was gone.

Far away, in the dimly lit Carriage No. 2—

The red shadow stood there, unmoving.

Thump-thump! Thump-thump!

His heart pounded violently.

Adrenaline surged through his veins. Pain and terror clawed at his sanity.

His mind reeled from the relentless horror.

Hiss…

Lin Xian’s gaze darted between his mangled hand and the pool of blood on the floor. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Had he… just killed Luo Shasha?!

“Shasha?!”

Pressing his wounded hand to his chest, he called out tentatively.

No response.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He stepped forward—

But then—

From the shadows behind her body, a ghastly pale hand slowly emerged.

It grabbed Shasha’s ankle.

And yanked.

Shhhhk!

Her body was dragged into the darkness.

A trail of blood was all that remained.

Lin Xian’s scalp prickled with horror. His instincts screamed at him to stay calm, but a deep, suffocating fear gnawed at his mind.

The armor, the Icebreaker Shield—none of it was working.

An overwhelming sense of despair began to take root.

The pain in his finger was agonizing, his cold sweat unceasing.

Something was wrong.

1542 Radio Station. The mysterious disappearances. The paranormal phenomena. The Red-Dressed Ghost…

A memory surfaced—Jiang Yun’s words echoed in his ears:

"Be careful… This thing doesn’t just react to human sounds…"

“…What exactly is wrong here?”

A chilling gust swept through the carriage.

The dimming lights flickered once more.

The red shadow—

Was getting closer.