I yawn loudly as I arrive at my post, groggy from my futile attempts at sleep last night. "Hey Francis, good morning," one of the guys calls. I'm stationed at the West Gate this morning. A steady flow of people moves out as usual. Kids, adults, all sorts head out into the forest to scavenge for anything of use. Food, wood, or any small game they can take down with a well placed arrow. Others might be heading off toward the farmlands to the south. It's a long trek to make each day, so any of the day laborers have actually probably left already, leaving only the ones traveling to buy or sell their wares in the city passing through at this time of day. Not that I could say for sure how many farmers actually make enough to live in the city, or would be willing to bother with a trip that far every day rather than just staying out on their farm, but who knows? Could be they went out through the southeastern or southwestern gates instead. Going straight to the South Gate would be too much trouble, since they would need to circle all the away around the castle and noble quarter in the southern district. Still, I feel like most would just live in the small farming villages to the south rather than walk that far. I certainly wouldn't want to at least.

So the ones I see here must be the ones headed into the western woods. Either taking the road down south to Mason Town, or into the forest to scavenge. It's pretty common for the lowest peasants, since the forest contains all sorts of food they can use to get by. It stretches quite a ways away, circling the city to the north, where it eventually meets the river that runs southeast, right past the East Gate. Unfortunately, thinking of that brings my mind back to last night. Seems like every time I'm stationed at the East Gate, I run into bizarre, honestly terrifying situations. First was a couple months back, when that little girl I helped turned out to actually be a rail unit! I actually carried one of those things in my arms! I could hardly sleep at all that night, not to mention the weeks after.

I shake my head, not wanting to dwell on the terrifying stories I've heard about those things. But despite my best efforts, my mind dredges up last night again. Wasn't that the same rail unit? It was soaking wet and burning with fever. Can those things even get sick? Still, the thing actually started to summon its divine gear before it collapsed! I have never been closer to death than that moment. I don't understand why, but that thing seemed entirely different from anything I've heard of before.

I mean, even if they're the incarnations of death, during my guard training, they definitely mentioned those things are supposed to protect the city. If that's the case, I just can't square it with the rumors about how you're likely to die just from coming in contact with them, and the actual experience of seeing one hostile directly toward me. None of it makes sense. Having spent all last night shaking in terror instead of sleeping is not helping me figure any of this shit out either.

"You, wait," I call out. Seeing a man hauling something in a covered cart pulls me from my thoughts as I stop him. Good, something better to think about. "What are you carrying?"

"Animal feed," he says, he lifts the cover and I can see piles of hay stacked underneath.

"Your forms?" He retrieves a small wooden block from his clothes. I glance at it. Animal feed. Ten bales of hay. I check the number against the quantity in the cart. Even though I can't really see it all clearly, I've got plenty of experience. Quantity looks good. Then I check the signature at the bottom. Valin Trading Company. I vaguely remember the name, so that's fine.

"Thank you, move on," I pass back his form and wave for him to continue, yawning spontaneously as my attention turns back to the other passersby. The other guards let him pass as well. No need for us to check people multiple times, it'd just hold up the line.

Unlike yesterday, today is wonderfully uneventful. At the seventh bell, the guard rotates. I have a short time off to eat before my next assignment. So I go through the market, buying some fruit. It's cheap and does well enough to hold me over through the rest of the day. While I eat it, I sit at the edge of a well somewhere in the central district. There are plenty of other people here too, everyone needs to eat somewhere after all. Not to mention all the women and children doing their day-to-day chores.

Once I'm done with my light lunch, I sit against the side of a well. There are plenty of other people around, so I shouldn't have to worry about pickpockets as I sink into a light nap. It's short of course, only a half-bell since my lunch break only runs from the seventh to eighth bell.

Feeling at least marginally better, I take another quick walk around, stretching and getting ready to slog through my afternoon shift. As soon as the eighth bell rings out, I make my way into the garrison. "Francis, you'll be on the south side today," the chief says.

"Ah damn," I mutter. He looks around briefly.

"Aaronson, you're with him." That brings a similar comment from Aaronson.

We head out, making a beeline for the southern district. It's quite a walk, but we're used to it and march at a very fast pace because we have a lot of ground to cover. Once we make it down near the castle wall, we get started on our route. It essentially just consists of circling the castle walls and the small areas surrounding them. We keep the wall on our left as we go, winding through the streets nearby. As always, there's not much happening around this time of day. Everyone doing their jobs, or out of the city doing their daily work. In the forest, the fields, or elsewhere. That just leaves servants, doing the day's cooking and cleaning for their rich masters. I do hear the sound of a few fancy business parties in some of the upscale houses though.

As we wind back toward the wall, I spot a glint of metal in the distance. Sure enough, the castle guards are coming toward us, walking their own patrol route. As we pass by, we both throw up a salute, but they just keep walking like they don't even see us. After they pass, I mentally brush it off.

There's no use complaining about it, they serve the nobility. There's no reason for them to even look at us. Unlike us, they wear spotless full plate that glitters in the sun, over colorfully dyed clothing. Most of them are from rich families with noble connections, and word among the guard is that a lot of them have been titled. Even if we essentially do the same work, it's like we live in completely different worlds.

The one up-side? I'm glad I don't have to wear that armor in the middle of summer. It's already starting to get stuffy outside some days. Like today. I swear, next month when summer comes in earnest, it's going to be downright stifling.

In any case, those high class guards all come from the southern district we're patrolling. You can see the differences with just a glance around. All of the buildings this close to the castle walls are significantly larger and more well built. Yards of green grass, flower gardens in a rainbow of colors. Most have at least some stonework with beautiful engravings, some even three or four stories tall for one family rather than the cramped multistory flats with a whole family crammed in on each floor, like it is in the northern areas where the poor live.

Even my place has a family on each floor, even if the house is a bit bigger and not falling over in disrepair like some of the ones I go past on my north end patrols. The thought makes me think, I should check on my parents sometime. They live up in the northwest district. With the crime rate triple most other places in town, I worry about them. I've tried to convince my father to move a few times, at least get a place in the northeast district, but he can be as stubborn as a kuran. Nothing for it, I guess.

It's not like I would call myself poor. Soldiers are paid relatively well since we are at least expected to wield some measure of authority, and are exposed to a level of danger most people are not. Marrianne works to supplement our income somewhat, so we get by better than most. We even have a house south of the East Gate, marking us as notably better off than those with houses on the northern side of the gate. Even if it's all the way at the edge, it's still a house in the central district. I can't say it's a big difference, but it is something at least. It's a far cry from the rich who can afford things like servants, meat, and hot baths all the time, but we are in no danger of starving like a lot of the lower income peasants who subsist almost entirely on plants scavenged from the forest.

Even so... When I look around at these mansions, it is clear that there is a whole world of space above us where the rich live with access to things we'll probably never be able to touch in our entire lives. But hey, that's just how it is. No use worrying about it.

After a long walk, we've circled all the way to the south side of the castle walls. Now this area is different. While it is the closest area to the southern farmlands, there are no houses here. Rather, it's just a small section of barren land, the southern city walls on one side, and a sort of secondary defensive wall, just a hundred meters away. There's hardly even any grass growing since it's almost always in the shade of the walls on either side. Past that defensive wall is an area I've never seen before, but it sits squarely between the castle wall and the southern gate. Whatever is in there, it is possibly as well, if not better protected than the castle itself, as absurd as that sounds. If I had to take a guess, the only thing I could imagine is that it relates to the AR program in some way.

That means it is absolutely none of my business. Whatsoever.

We pass by the South Gate. I give my regards to Wallace, Hampton, and Fred, who drew South Gate duty this week. Since it's such a long way off, the South Gate only sees two shifts, day and night shift, and gets assigned on a weekly rotation. It's the most mind-numbingly boring task since you'll hardly ever see a soul exit through the South Gate. There are some who come in from the south, but the roads from the closest towns lead to gates on the east and west sides of town. The only ones who enter from the south are travelers from long off distances who travel straight through the farmlands rather than on proper roads. Or sometimes people coming from the tiny farming villages to the south, nestled right out in the wheat and barley fields.

We cheer on the gate guards there when we pass, letting them know that there hasn't been anything of note today before we move on. Then it's back up and around the south walls, coming around to the noble quarter. Since the castle lies to the western side of the city, the connected noble area is to the east. It does have a defensive wall, but it is nothing like the great stone fortifications around the castle or mysterious area behind it. Rising just a couple stories tall, if you stand far enough back you can see the large noble manors are taller than the wall itself. Rather than defense against invaders, it's more just there to keep the commoners out. Thankfully for us, it generally also keeps the nobles in. At least most of the time.

Of course, they come out sometimes, for... whatever it is they do. I don't really understand what those people are thinking, but they do come and go sometimes. I think the captain has to deal with the ones who do tax collection at least. We also have to deal with nobles coming and going through the gates in their horse drawn carriages from time to time. It's honestly shocking how much larger and stronger their horses seem to be compared to the work animals used in various trades throughout the city and fields. Animals that large must be incredibly expensive to maintain by comparison.

As we come back around, the area widens out, and we reach the Southeast Gate. We skirted around the Southwest Gate earlier, but now we go right past the other. It is basically level with the northern castle wall, so the main road can cross straight through the city to the other gate, while allowing easy carriage access to the large main castle gate. It also gives easy access to the cathedral, which stands just across the road from the castle gates. We circle around, taking the large, north-slanting roads that connect to the southernmost central plaza, just past the north end of the upper class houses, before making our way south once more to repeat our route. Each time around takes about one and a half bells' time, despite our fast marching pace. We only make three rounds by the end of the shift, without a bit of trouble. Then we turn to head back to the barracks.

Since the southern patrol is through the rich southern district, as well as the completely deserted areas around the castle wall, nothing ever really happens, which is nice. But the amount of walking is seriously brutal. It's already the end of spring, so doing so much walking in my armor is pretty rough with the rising heat. Aaronson and I have completely drained our water flasks by the time we're finished. On our way back, we stop at a well.

"Why hello there Francis, Aaronson," a woman greets us. The crazy amount of freckles she has jumps out at me no matter how many times we've met. Her whole face, ear to ear.

"Good day, Betty," we nod back as we greet her. Working as a guard, you meet a lot of people. It can get pretty hard to remember all of them sometimes, but Betty works around here, so it's pretty common to see her, so we remember her pretty well. "Could we trouble you for some of your water?"

"Of course, go right ahead." She passes us a bucket. I've always hoped she could catch a break, her life has been harder than most. We refill our flasks, then thank her as we move on. We make it back to the garrison just a little after the twelfth bell, which marks sundown. Never really understood how they manage to keep time like they do, but it's invaluable for our work schedules, so I'm not complaining.

After reporting in, I work myself out of my armor, taking some time to clean it up and maintain it so it won't rust too much. Then I dump it in the rack where my gear goes, and my spear along the overhead rail. I leave the short sword on my hip though, since this is my own personal weapon. Everyone else more or less does the same before we all head our own ways for the night.

On my way back, I turn down the one of the first streets out of the garrison. Just across North Main Street, I stop in at my usual place, sitting down at the far end of the counter for an ale. "Matthew," I wave my hand and he slides a mug my way. I slide my coins down the counter. He swipes them into the till with a smooth motion, and I lift the sweet nectar to my lips. After taking down a few gulps, I slam the mug back down with a solid thump. Some sloshes over onto the counter, but no one pays it any mind.

"Ahh, no one makes it like you!" This earns a chuckle from Matthew and a couple regulars. I've been friends with Matthew since we were kids, running in the streets and playing with sticks. We went through thick and thin together back in the day. I lean back a bit on the bar stool, letting my sore muscles relax as I nurse my drink. Just need to get him a woman one of these days, he always says he doesn't have time to date since he's so busy running his bar, but I think he just needs to find the right girl.

"Hey, you heard the rumors, right?" someone down the counter asks the Matthew as he tends the bar. I lean forward slightly to see past the other patrons. Not anyone I recognize. Looks pretty drunk too. "There's a ghost going around town, killing people in the night!"

A few guys laugh at that one.

"You're off your rocker man, there've been no major deaths around town lately." A whole chorus of voices agree. I gladly join my voice with theirs. Blessed peace.

"How would you know?" the drunk asks angrily when they challenge his story.

"We're guards, if people were dying, we'd be the first to know." The drunk clearly had no idea this was a spot for the guards, leading to all the regular guards laughing uproariously.

"Well, then what about the disappearances?" the drunk counters anyway, face flushed red from more than his drink.

"You alright man?" someone responds while laughing. No one even has to bother pointing it out, of course people will disappear now and then. Leaving the city without telling anyone, running away with a lover after failing to get her father's blessing, getting pinned under a fallen tree, killed and eaten by animals; there are limitless reasons for people to just up and disappear. It's not like us city guards are going to know about every single one of them.

"But I heard it's with kids!" he still insists for some reason.

"No way, no way," a few different men wave him off this time. We haven't had too many kidnapping incidents lately. Besides, that's a crime, not people mysteriously disappearing.

"That's all just tall tales," someone else finally volunteers. But unfortunately, he goes into his own story right after. "This one's way weirder! You guys heard there's been a rail unit wandering the city?"

"No way!" a dozen different voices laughingly deny, obviously a little more put-off this time. But that makes me sit up. I look down the counter at the new speaker.

"A rail unit?" I ask before thinking better of it.

"No way Francis, you don't believe this guy do you?" another guard asks with a worried chuckle. I open my mouth to laugh it off, but I'm stricken by the vision of the blinding light of that white haired rail unit's divine gear last night. The memory of that impossible terror kills the words that are about to leave my mouth. Thinking back, both times, I was the only one who actually saw.

Before I can collect my thoughts, someone else chimes in. "I wouldn't dismiss it so quickly. I've been hearing more and more rumors like that for a while now. They say there's been one up near the north wall. I know a guy who said there's a whole block everyone's avoiding 'cause people kept seeing one around there."

"If that's the case, then what does it look like?" another guy challenges him. It feels like everyone's getting a bit more quiet as people keep speaking up.

When he can't answer definitively, a guard at the back of the bar pipes up. "Wait, I actually heard about that, they said it wore a dark cloak and was terrorizing the women down by the river."

"The river? You're kidding right? We'd all have seen it if that happened, how could something like that go through the gate without any of us noticing anyway?"

"I heard it smells like death," another guard adds. Looks like there were more rumors than anyone thought, until people started to speak up one after another.

"My wife says she's been worrying about it, and wants to have the talk with our kids soon."

"Isn't your son ten already? I made sure to tell my kids as soon as possible."

The banter continues as I sip at my drink, much less raucous than usual. The taste is still good, but I can't seem to enjoy it now that I'm anxious over the weird rumors going around town. I actually got that glimpse of the rail units myself, inside that stone building. Then there's the one I saw twice, which I didn't even recognize as a rail unit at first. With all these rumors, there must be some grain of truth, something more going on.

After I quickly finish my drink, I start to head home. The strong alcohol gives me just a bit of a buzz. While I'm walking, I can't get those rumors out of my head. But something just isn't right. It takes some time to figure out what isn't sitting right with me. Finally, I remember. It was about five years go, I was fifteen and had just graduated from trainee to a full member of the guard. That was when we got a new shipment of rail units. It's actually a pretty distinct memory, because that's about the only time any significant movement goes through the South Gate. If I remember right from my early guard training, apparently we get new units every five years.

That much matches up. That unit was small, but I'd say it could pass for five years old. However, I got a glimpse into that stone building too. There were a ton of rail units in there. But, weren't they all bigger? Even at a glance, they were all in their teens at least, maybe adults actually. Even if it was just a few moments glance, I would have noticed if they had them in various sizes and ages, but there was nothing like that. There must be more to all of it that I'm not aware of.

But I really don't want to know. Just a peek into that nightmare is more than enough for me. Not to mention that noble who opened the door. I almost met his eyes directly. A noble knowing I interacted with one of their weapons? I thought he was going to order my execution on the spot!

I shiver at the thought. But... there was more, wasn't there? From what they taught us, the rail units should be emotionless, unstoppable weapons of death. The first time I met that one, wasn't it so damaged it could hardly move? Shouldn't it be powerful? I thought it was just an injured little girl at the time, there was no indication that it was really a rail unit. And shouldn't it be emotionless? Then why did it apologize to me? And for what anyway? It didn't occur to me at all until I saw that noble, and heard him address the rail unit. 1A was it?

If I couldn't even realize that was a rail unit, carrying it all the way from the East Gate, why are there rumors at all? My buzzed brain can't make sense of all these strange events. I don't even want to think about it, but the whole thing worries me so much I just can't get it off my mind.

Peace is best. As long as our days can pass uneventfully, I can just live happily with my wife. Strange rumors about killing machines wandering the streets will just disturb the nice peace of this town.

But no matter how much I want that, I can't get that last image out of my head. Sopping wet and feverish, that rail unit couldn't even speak as it was trying to tell me not to take it back. It's not like I had a choice anyway. It's not like I could just shirk my duties while I'm on night guard.

But it just doesn't sit right with me. No matter how I think about it, it doesn't make any sense... How could one of Rostor's evil death monsters make an expression like that?

I catch a whiff of something that finally draws me from my dark thoughts. Herbs, vegetables, and is that meat? I could recognize the smell of Marrianne's cooking anywhere. Gladly switching tracks, I wonder. Did something good happen today? Maybe someone came by with a hefty commission for one of their horses or something. On days like that, she would generally step up her already wonderful cooking a bit, sometimes even dipping into our stock of preserved meats a bit to liven things up. And then she gets so shy and embarrassed about it, her blushing cheeks and moist, simpering lips even more beautiful... I let the wonderful illusion draw me quickly to our block.

I stop briefly, looking at our house. Three stories, where we live on the first floor. It's wood, not all fancy and painted, but I make sure to keep it put together so it's cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It's not much, but it's ours. It was seriously difficult to convince her father to let her go, but with my well paying job and a house in a better district, I was able to persuade him. I think us being madly in love with each other helped too. All for my beautiful, lovely wife.

Sure, she can be an airhead sometimes, there is no one in the world as kind, caring, or beautiful as she is. With a big grin on my face, I open up the door and walk in, the delicious aroma growing even more powerful inside the house. "Marrianne, I'm home," I call. My eyes sweep across to the left, to her back where she stands in the kitchen, her dark locks tied up in a messy bun, bobbing up and down all the same as she works.

"Ah, perfect timing, I'll get your soup for you," she chimes back, her voice music to my ears as I gaze down her full, curvy figure-

My thoughts to skip backward when I realize I missed something. I do a double take, something just caught me eye, didn't it? I look back. On the bench along the wall, between the door and kitchen, there's someone sitting there?

I stare, not believing what my eyes are seeing. A tiny child, massive waves of unnatural, glowing white hair draped down all around her. She sits with a bowl of my wife's soup in her hands. Eyes staring directly into mine. She recognizes me. I recognize it. My heart stops, I can't breath. Rail Unit 1A. I barely avoided death twice, has my luck run out? It's eyes go wide, mouth hanging open. My voice comes out automatically, "What is that doing here?"

At my words, it's pupils constrict to the size of pins, tears forming at the corners.

How can a living death machine make an expression like that?

Why are you the one that looks terrified?