As Burnett sat and listened to Lady's story of how she ended up falling for Diesel 10 after he had become seriously ill at one point, he realized that there was much more to the big warship than just a scary engine with a big claw. Still, he was somewhat uneasy about his engine being in a relationship with him. Deeply troubled or not, Diesel 10 was still potentially dangerous. Yet, there was the apparent fact that Lady had been seeing him for quite some time, and Diesel 10 had not made a single attempt to harm her.
Burnett stood up and strode over to the clawed diesel, who had since come out of his shed. "Well, I've listened to what Lady had to say about you, and it seems she was not only able to see in you what I couldn't. She managed to not only see the good in you, she was able to reach it," he said.
"Cut to the chase, Stone. What are you implying? Other than the fact you see me as nothing but evil," Diesel 10 said shortly.
"I'm saying, I'm going to give you a chance," said Burnett.
At that, Diesel 10 relaxed somewhat, giving a small smile.
It was then, Lily piped up and said, "Have you thought of names for these cute little ones?"
Both Lady and Diesel 10 looked at her. Lily was holding the pale blue baby in her arms. He was much calmer than his brother, who was at her feet, pulling at her pant leg with his claw.
"I think Vincent is a suitable name for the more rambunctious one," Lady said with a smile.
Diesel 10 looked at the one in Lily's arms, who seemed perfectly content to be held and cuddled. "Daniel," he said.
"Oh, I know you miss him so," Lady said sympathetically.
"That's his name. I want him named after my twin. He's just like him," said Diesel 10.
"Well then, Daniel it is," said Lady.
Meanwhile, Den had made his way to Blackwell scrapyard. As he rolled into the dreary place, he was greeted with a sight that simultaneously horrified and deeply saddened him. Though he had known that he would encounter other diesels in that scrapyard which were beyond repair, he hadn't expected anything this awful.
Besides those who had been mangled in accidents, or simply in extreme disrepair, there were engines that were covered in patches of an unusual looking rust. One in particular stood out, having been so severely corroded that it had buckled in the middle under its own weight. Even more disturbing was the sight of several who were sitting in puddles of oil which had apparently leaked out from them. Some of the engines had tubes and hoses stuck into their mouths and noses, and even a few through their cheeks, all of which were draining something into barrels that sat beside them.
Den desperately wished there was something that he could do for these engines. He hated seeing other diesels suffer like this, and hated it even more when there was nothing that could be done.
As Den sat there, seemingly deep in thought, Daniella returned to the scrapyard, towing yet another very sick engine. As she shunted it among the others, she took notice of the Dieselworks shunter in their midst.
"What brings you here, Den? I normally don't mind visitors, but right now, it's dangerous to be here," Daniella said to him.
"Daniella, um…I…" Den gulped, trying to find the right words to say to the short-tempered warship.
"I don't have time for beatin' around the bush, Den!" Daniella said impatiently.
"I…um…oh, I'm not good with words," Den said, frustrated.
"Well, then wait outside! You shouldn't expose yourself to this! I know it may sound crazy to you, but this sickness spreads! Do you wanna end up like these guys?!" said Daniella.
"Daniella! Paxton has rust that grew back! And it…um…looks like the rust on…those engines!" Den blurted out.
Upon hearing this, Daniella dropped a barrel of leaked-out oil and coolant that she had lifted up; the contents of which splattered all over the ground. "So it spread to Sodor," she said as she reversed. "C'mon! I need to have a look at him!" she called out to Den, who followed her out of the scrapyard.
All the way there, Daniella was quiet. She was worried for the safety of her brother, and all the other engines who called the island home. So far, there had been no way to effectively repair the damage caused by this strange and highly destructive ailment, and she also worried for the future of railways in general. If this continued to go unchecked, entire fleets could be wiped out; the few survivors left frail, brittle, and permanently unable to work.