Belatedly Lexa realized she had no idea how to get off at the right spot. The train had just appeared, but how did it get there? “Can I ask you to stop at that station again?” She asked the doorman.

“We stop when the bell is rung,” he answered.

Lexa looked around, but there was no bell. “What bell?”

“A brass bell rung against the tracks.”

“So someone outside has to do it?” He nodded his head.

It was officially not Lexa's problem then, she decided. Cassie and Derrick would have to figure it out. She would just do what she could. She looked around the train car. It was a dingy subway car, with faded felt seats of some indeterminate color, maybe green. A dozen people were laid out on the seats, all looking incredibly bored. The looked at her with disinterest. “Excuse me, I'm Lexa. I'm looking for a wizard. Our group needs a new leader. When I find one my friends will help us both leave,” she announced loudly.

She waited to see how the people would react to her announcement. Total pandemonium erupted as she was swarmed by the group. They crowded around her, all speaking in an incoherent roar. It was clear they really wanted to get off. “Everyone stop!” She screamed, throwing up her hands, and the group listened. “Ahem, I take it are all interested. In that case I want an orderly line. Anyone caught cutting will instantly be disqualified. I'm looking for someone reasonable. Also can we go to the other train cars?”

There was a shaking of heads. The man who had taken the first spot in the line answered. “It is possible, but to dangerous for any to attempt. It is little more than suicide.”

“I guess that is fine. I have the feeling that there are probably, like, an infinite amount of train cars. I really don't have that much time.”

That meant she would have to pick from the eleven people now lined up. They didn't look impressive, but neither had Sariel. The first man in line was wearing a black trenchcoat, decorated with an excess of buckles. It certainly looked magical, in the Chris Angel sense.

Lexa sat on one end of a bench seat, and gesture for the man to take the seat across isle. “So what sort of magical powers do you have?” She asked, in a clinical tone. The whole line watching eagerly, so she continued. “This will be the basis of the interview, so please think about it while waiting.”

“I am the creator and master of half a dozen Tulpas.”

“Cool, cool. What are Tulpas?”

“Thoughtforms I have shaped, and through cognitive powers made real.”

“Where are they?” She pressed.

“All around me, I have created more several during this interminable ride.”

“So they're imaginary friends?” Lexa looked at the guy, trying to guess whether this could be real or not. “I think I'll have to pass. Next!”

The imaginary friend guy sulked off, making a few colorful comments to himself, or maybe to one of his friends. Lexa realized she had completely forgotten to ask his name. It was a bad start, all around.

The next person who sat down was a man whose age she couldn't guess. He still looked relatively young, maybe thirty, but his eyes were incredibly sunken in. They were like pits of darkness, hiding his eyes in shadow. She could just make out a pair of beady eyes. He wore an ill-fitting three-piece black suit.“So what's your name?”

“I have long given up my Christian name, in favor of my lord. You may refer to me as Azaquoth.”

Lexa reconsidered asking for peoples names, it might not deliver her the best results. But she couldn't go through all the interviews thinking of them as that guy, or weird dude.”Okay Azayoth.”

“Azaquoth,” he corrected.

“Azaqu-” she tried to make her throat do that harsh half growl noise, but ended up coughing. “Okay, so what are your powers?”

“I can draw energies from my dark lord, a being from beyond this realm. As his only channel to reality, he must pass energy through me if he wishes to further his goals.”

“So why are you on the train?”

“I entered three weeks ago. I was summoned by my lord to partake in his flesh. It was to be a foul ritual that would make me a more powerful channel. I know not why he has not called for the train. So I am prepared to find my own way off. I'm sure I can lead your cult, while still acting for my lord.”

“Wait, you've been here three weeks? So you don't know?”

“Know what?”

“Has anyone arrived since this guy?” Lexa loudly asked the line. They all shook there heads. “Oh my gosh! None of you know? The world ended like, two weeks ago. Cthulhu ripped open the sky, and then he got nuked, and then everyone blacked out for while. Everyone gone crazy now... well not everyone, obviously I'm fine. Cassandra, and, well Derick was crazy, but he's gotten better.”

The line broke up as they all wanted details, and surrounded her. Questions about realms, moonphases, and other trivia were shouted out. “Everybody stop. I don't know what any of you are talking about. I told you everything I know. If you want to know more, pass the interview.”

Azayoth gave a low moan. “The barriers between realms have been broken. That is why my lord has not summoned me. He has no longer any need. Please you must take me out of here.”

“You got his power because you were his channel into the world, if he's loose you won't have any power,” she accused.

“We don't know that, the connection could still be open,” he argued.

“Sorry, but I don't think I can take that chance. Next!” He stood up, clearly shaken by the news, and walked off.

The next nearly made Lexa shriek, his skin was covered in disgusting pink fungus. It was covered up with rags to show as little as possible. It had clearly taken root and replaced his skin, the rubbery flesh trembled slightly from being exposed either to the light or air. “This is a fungus which converts my body to power. I can travel the aether and work miracles.”

It was the clearest evidence of power Lexa had yet seen, as gross as it was. “So what is it exactly?”

“A parasite of Shub-Niggurath-”

“Wow,” Lexa interrupted reproachfully. She looked at him unsure. “So what was your name?

“Cole Maxwell,”

“How is that spelled?”

“C-O-L-E,” He answered confirming her suspicions.

“Okay, it's current year, you can't just say that. Especially hard R, maybe back in two-thousand eight, you could get away with soft R. But I am not bringing back a racist to lead the gang. Next!” She shouted.

“But-”

“Next. And to the back of the train!” Cole got up and stumbled away, beginning to sob. For a racist he sure was acting like a little bitch. That just went to show, Lexa figured.

One of the most normal of the group sat down next. He still wore a black trenchcoat, but he was well-built and handsome. His shirt underneath was a clean white dress shirt, and he wore a pair of slacks. He also had a nice hat. It made him look like a stage magician. “I hope you are ready to be amazed by my powers, Miss Lexa. Because the great Malcolm does not disappoint. Unlike most of these other fools, cut off from their magicks, my power is self contained and fully accessible.”

She gestured for him to show off. He made an impressive display of disappearing objects and making them reappear. He could even make one of the playing cards get replaced with another as he moved them apart. His mindreading, by knowing which card she picked was cool. In the end she wasn't sure if he was actually magic, so it was time to put it to the only real test.

Lexa held out her hand, showing off the jelly bracelet. “Can you make this disappear?” He attempted to take it from her wrist, but his fingers passed right through. Frowning he drew out a box, and had her place her hand in it. It tickled as he fumbled about trying to remove it. Eventually Malcolm admitted he had no actual magic, but was just a street performer.”Well, I appreciate the show. I will need someone with actual magic though.”

The next guy was dressed in flowing white robes, which was a nice change. He had a nice face, and didn't look to crazy. He was polite, and let her speak first. “Okay, what's your name, and what have you got?”

“I am Tiberus Sunt. I am a servant of the Demiurge. Through his sub gods I am granted dominion over reality. At the moment I cannot display my powers, this infernal train is outside Logos.”

“I understand that is a common problem. First all I'm a very progressive, TBH, I've never heard of a Demiurge before, but I assume it's something like Demisexual, but you don't do relationships. Unfortunately it is a leadership position, so someone whose only experience is as a servant isn't really qualified. I'll keep you at the top of the progressive stack though.”

“You can't be serious girl. I am a true practitioner, I have pierced the veils of the evil physical world, and found not worth on the other side. I serve the being who created the universe.”

“Well I'm sure your church is progressive to, but just believing in God isn't a magic power.”

That sent the guy into a fit of rage. He got up a began screeching. Malcolm, and Cole the racist, took him by the shoulders. He struggled, but a burst of gas from Cole the racist knocked him out.

She was about half-way through the line, and really hoped she would find someone suitable. At this rate she might have to settle for Cole.

The only woman of the group sat down, and flashed Lexa a smile. “Hi, I'm Lizzie. I've spent years training with Wicca. I'm really excited to see another girl.”

“Hell yeah, girl power!” Lexa high-fived Lizzie.

“It was a mistake to get on this train, but my magic should be good enough for your group. What is the purpose of your group?”

“Well, our old leader was feeding people to this pile of slime called Pleiades. We aren't really sure why, he was always just going on about how he was an angel, and his form was limiting. He...Uh, died, so that isn't really important. The thing is he made us all put are hand into the slime, and we got these bracelets. They'll eat us if we don't get them off, so we really only need someone who can do that. Or at least keep them from eating us.”

Lizzie had gotten paler as Lexa had explained things.“Wow... I think it might be safer to stay on the train,” Lizzie said. She got up, and left.

“But... Girl power,” Lexa said, crestfallen.

The next guy had light green scaly skin, like a snakes. Lexa was so taken aback she didn't notice immediately that he had three arms. He had one normal left arm, but two right ones, splitting out from the single shoulder. “Greetings Lexa,” he said formally, and bowed before taking his seat.

“Greetings, can you tell me your name and any abilities you have. Not so say your extra arm is an ability, I mean I was born with webbed toes. I don't mean to say that's the same. I don't want to be rude, but I mean-”

The guy saved her by introducing himself. “I am Aliek, and my trade is alchemy. Due to an accident I have gained special regenerative powers. I have heard your problem, and believe I can help you.”

“Please go on,” she prompted.

“I can create a salve that temporarily replicates my ability, then amputate the hand at the bracelet. Applying the salve will cause the hand to regrow, along with a duplicate.” He raised his left hand and showed two identical index fingers next to each other, giving him six fingers on that hand.

“So I would have two hands?” Lexa boggled.

“Well you would have three hands. When the effects of the salve end, we could amputate the extra. It would leave a scar, but I think it a reasonable solution.”

“So your solution is to amputate my hand twice?” Aliek didn't respond, taking Lexa's question as rhetorical. Lexa considered the offer. It was better than dying. That was really the only thing going for it. “Aliek, I don't love it. But you are my top pick right now. I'm still going to talk with the rest of the candidates. It would be rude not to, and TBH I would really rather not.”

“That is understandable. Have a nice day,” Aliek bowed again, and wandered off. At least he beat out having to take Cole the racist.

The next person was a mime. He wore a black and white striped shirt, and had a white painted face. Outside of being a mime, there seemed to be nothing wrong with him. Instead of taking a seat on the opposite side of the aisle, they sat in mid-air. They lounged on an invisible seat, and shrugged to Lexa.

There was no chance she was trusting a mime to save her life. Especially some pretentious dick who was too good to sit on a real chair. Lexa shook her head in refusal. The mime got up, mimed opening a door, then slammed it with an audible noise. She mimed a few choice gestures of her own at the gross mimes back.

That left only three people to interview. The next sat down across from her and smiled. He wore a white tunic, and had brown skin, looking middle-eastern. He spoke in some foreign language, it sounded middle-eastern, Lexa thought. He gestured and flexed his muscles, then pointed to himself and said, “Quaad.” She wasn't sure someone she couldn't understand would be helpful, but it couldn't hurt to ask.

She nodded, and pointed to herself. “Lexa. Can you take this off?” She held out her wrist to Quaad He bent down and kissed the back of her hand. Lexa didn't mind, but the bracelet had. It flared out and slashed a line across Quaad's face. He pulled away clutching at the wound. He stumbled away, and others started looking after him. They laid him down on one of the long bench seats. Cole the racist was looking after him, which might not be the best idea.

The next man in line gulped, and was pale with fear. He sat gingerly, and eyed Lexa's wrist. “Sorry I don't think I can do this,” he confessed.

“That's fine, there's no shame in that. Why don't you go see if you can help Quaad?” She asked soothingly. He bobbed his head, and hurried off.

That left only one person left. Lexa hoped that he wasn't another wierdo.