Red Key - Boneworks Train Station

And somewhere, on a forgotten siding, the Eschaton Car was waiting. One lock. One train. One way out.

Victor didn’t wait. He scrambled to the door, spun the heavy wheel with both hands. The mechanism screamed but gave. He slipped through the gap just as the Crate Cracker hurled a chunk of concrete after him. It shattered against the doorframe, peppering his back with dust. boneworks train station red key

The station was a graveyard of failed expeditions. A skeleton in a faded security jacket slumped against a ticket machine, its skull caved in. Farther on, a null-body—one of the mindless, plastic-faced puppets—twitched in a pool of its own hydraulic fluid, a victim of a previous, more careless gunfight. And somewhere, on a forgotten siding, the Eschaton

A deep, pneumatic hiss. Then a howl.

He clicked off his light and crouched behind a baggage carousel. Through the narrow slits of his visor, he saw them: three of the spider-like machines, their single red eyes scanning the floor. They were small, but their pincer jaws could sever a fiber tendon in a second. He waited. One scuttled past, so close he could see the corrosion on its carapace. Its eye beam swept over his boot, paused… then moved on. One way out