>>5969457>>5969634>>5970169>>5970881>>5970882With resolve steeling his nerves, Clay set his sights on the one figure who might hold the keys to the enigma that was the train: the conductor. The conductor, a shadowy presence thus far, was found pacing solemnly at the juncture between cars, his uniform pristine despite the wear and tear around them. Clay approached, his questions ready like bullets in a chamber.
"Excuse me," Clay began, his tone more demanding than inquiring. "I think it's about time you tell us what's really going on with this train. Where are we headed? Why does it feel like we're chasing our own tails?"
The conductor, tall and imposing, turned to face him. His eyes, hidden beneath the brim of his cap, seemed to bore into Clay's very soul. For a moment, the outside world's sounds faded into a hush, leaving only their confrontation in sharp relief against the backdrop of the train's continuous rumble.
"Sir," the conductor's voice was calm, unyielding, "I assure you the train is proceeding exactly as scheduled. Our destination is assured, as is the safety and comfort of all our passengers." His words were smooth, practiced, offering no foothold for debate or inquiry.
"But what is the schedule? And what's the destination?" Clay pressed, his frustration mounting. "Don't we deserve to know?"
The conductor simply tipped his cap, a non-answer hanging in the air between them. "I'm afraid that's all I can disclose. Please, return to your seat and enjoy the journey. All will be revealed in due course."
Stonewalled, Clay was left standing in the corridor, the conductor moving past him with a grace that belied his imposing figure. The encounter left more questions than answers, the conductor's veil of secrecy as impenetrable as ever.
1. Shoot the conductor
2. Sabotage the train
3. Wait patiently, get some rest
4. Hang out with the passengers, try to bum a couple shots of whisky
5. Make up your own
