#h8

you mean I have a home to go to as long as I don't go there?

     Not much time had passed since they'd left for Geppetto's estate. Romeo didn't know if this was the right call. Regardless of his own anxieties, the overhanging truth remained: they needed more answers. Where better find them than to go back to where it all began?

     The BLUE FAIRY lied stopped in Krat Central Station. The train car door was open, leading to a weapon workbench in the supply car. Sketches of the P-Organ rested against the back of the bench, the mechanical legion arm and all its intricacy placed beside them. Romeo felt his face twist as they passed through.

     The dining car was bright with broken wine bottles and blood spatter that had sprayed over delicate, white tablecloths. Papers, flyers for the grand carnival and summer festival presenting the Parade Puppet's jolly face, and torn pages of worn books made the car look like a whirlwind had blown through. Yet, despite the haphazard appearance, the car remained presentable. Unlike some of the other trains, The Blue Fairy was kept in rather pristine condition.

     Entering the next car, at the very end, he saw the red cushioned chair. It was ominous, in a way. Resting at the very back and facing toward them. Discarded parts of puppets had been placed on the table beside it. Towers of old books had been stacked on the opposite side. Discarded boxes and tools lined the floor as white upholstered chairs lined the car's sides.

     ❝This is where you woke up. I remember sensing it right away.❞ Romeo couldn't help but smile. Warm fondness crept into his voice, even if the memory was bittersweet. ❝I sent the Parade Master to try and retrieve you. His cage wasn't the best idea — now that I think about it.❞

     Beyond the chair, he could see into the next car. Something about it felt familiar, but not enough that he could recall in detail. ❝I know you and I were both made here.❞ His hand scratched the back of the table behind him, the scrap of paper falling to the floor. Romeo bent to pick it up.

I have perfected the greatest puppet. Now, for that child again...