"Thomas..."
"Thomas...?"
"I'm still here. You won't shake me off that easily."
Thomas panted, his body nearly paralyzed. He found himself in a void of blackness. Not this again... he thought with mounting dread. A sudden, biting gust slammed into him—wild, inexplicable, and eerily strange. It howled around him in a way that defied logic.
"I still require this realm's energy. No matter how many times you try to stop me, I'll always return," a disembodied voice echoed in the darkness.
Through the murk, Thomas spotted a shadowy figure drawing near.
Then, the ground trembled. Thomas gasped as the entire area vibrated. In an instant, the darkness vanished, revealing Toronto—his home. Nerraw materialized in midair.
"Why are you here? Leave me alone!" Thomas shouted. Nerraw merely smirked before disappearing.
In the distance, Thomas saw the CN Tower—but what happened next left him stunned. The tower collapsed, tumbling over. "W-What?!" he stammered. Helpless, he could only watch as the falling tower demolished the Skydome. "No! Not the Skydome!" he screamed.
Tall skyscrapers on the horizon began to glitch, distorting in a disconcerting manner. Thomas had no clue what was happening; all he knew was that it was utterly bizarre. The glitching surged forward, racing across the buildings until it reached his very feet. The ground split apart as if in the midst of an earthquake. The once-familiar grass transformed into swirling, colorful strands that shifted and reformed continuously. Regaining his composure, Thomas instinctively backed away.
Yet there was no escape—behind him, destruction reigned. The only intact patch was the very grass he stood on. In the distance, buildings flickered in and out of existence, a chaotic mess of disappearing and reappearing structures.
The cacophony was overwhelming—like the universe itself was crying out in agony. The earth shuddered once more. "Oh, shit!" Thomas cried out as the patch of grass beneath him began to wither. With nowhere left to run, the ground crumbled, and Thomas tumbled into what seemed like an endless void.
Thomas jerked awake, his body still trembling from the lingering vibration. "Ahh!" he gasped.
"T-Thomas!? Whoa, calm down!" a voice called out—his father's voice. Glancing around to steady himself, Thomas realized he was on a plane.
The same plane he'd boarded in Toronto. He blinked and peered out the window; the sun was just beginning to rise, casting a faint glow over the Atlantic horizon. He turned to his dad.
"That turbulence was awful, was it? It woke you up?" his dad asked.
Thomas hesitated. Was that a glimpse of Nerraw? Or was that really just a dream this time?
Adjusting himself in his seat, Thomas felt the plane dip suddenly. Fear gripped him, and he clutched the back of the seat.
"Don't worry, Thomas. It's only turbulence," his dad reassured him. "It even roused me from a nice nap. At least breakfast is nearly here—I need my cuppa tea."
Thomas rested his head back, trying to relax. Thoughts of Carter crept in. "It's almost morning; I wonder if Carter is awake," he mused.
"Maybe, maybe not. We're in a different time zone by now. It's early morning here, so Carter's probably still asleep," his dad replied. Thomas sighed, realizing he'd have to talk to Carter when it was nighttime on the Island.
"Hey, Dad, what's that? Are we there already?" Thomas pointed excitedly out the window. Though they were still cruising high above, land was creeping closer. His dad glanced outside. "That's Ireland, son. We'll be landing in Manchester in about half an hour."
A smile spread across Thomas's face. He relished the thrill of flying and watching the world below. "Ah, here's my tea," his dad announced as the flight attendant served breakfast.
In roughly thirty minutes, they arrived at Manchester Airport.
The plane landed, taxied, and soon after, they collected their bags. Thomas felt a surge of excitement—he was back in his home country! Though far from his old city, Brighton, this return filled him with anticipation. "Okay, son... uh..." his dad hesitated, glancing around. "I should have probably done a bit of research on this airport..."
They planned to take a train to Barrow-In-Furness—the city on England's west coast, with the Island lying just beyond.
"Let's stretch our legs; we've got plenty of time. Fancy a bite before we set off?"
Thomas, too exhilarated to eat, replied, "No, thanks, Dad."
His dad chuckled. "You're really buzzing to be here, aren't you? Alright, let's find the train platform."
After collecting their baggage, they navigated the airport corridors, following a sign that read: "This way to Manchester Airport Station."
The station displayed several destinations:
Transport To Wales – Llandudno
Transpennine Express – Glasgow Central – Edinburgh – Cleethorpes
Northern – Manchester Piccadilly – Liverpool – Blackpool North – Barrow-In-Furness
"That's the one we need!" his dad confirmed as they examined the timetable.
Thomas looked up at it. "Northern? Is that what we need to take?"
His dad nodded. "Yes, It's the only one that says it goes to Barrow-In-Furness,"
They had paid for their tickets, and his dad used his credit card because he couldn't bother to go exchange the American currency for British Currency at the moment.
On the platform, Thomas's excitement peaked. Several trains awaited, though not the one they needed. "Wow... The trains here look so much sleeker compared to back home," he observed.
"Indeed, they're designed for speed," his dad remarked.
Thomas couldn't wait to share every detail with Carter over email later. "Carter would love all this! I wish he was here..." he said wistfully. His dad placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know, son."
Soon, a train pulled in, its horn sounding noticeably higher-pitched than the thunderous K5la horns Thomas was used to from Toronto. He giggled at the difference."They're so high-pitched!"
"I believe they sound like that, to be like a warning alarm," His dad said.
After a few, the train they needed arrived at the station. Thomas watched the two-car train slowly roll up to them on the tracks. "Here she is," His dad said, grabbing his suitcase. Thomas grabbed his. Once the doors opened, they boarded.
Settling into his seat, Thomas gazed out the window. "According to the schedule, we're in transit for 2 hours and 19 minutes," his dad mentioned.
"Geez, that long?" Thomas asked, though he was perfectly content watching the British countryside roll by—the green valleys and quaint townhomes offering a comforting view. He couldn't care less if he was on the train forever.
Despite him being British, had to question some of the names. He knew if Carter was with him, he'd just tease him about all of these weird city names. At every other station the train stopped at, Thomas arched an eyebrow.
"Ardwick?" Thomas asked, arching his eyebrow.
His dad chuckled. "These names are centuries old," He said.
Station after station—Farnworth, then Lostock—which Thomas misread as "Lost Sock," much to his amusement—passed by. He knows if Carter was with him, and heard him say that he'd have a giggle fit. Then, Grange-over-Sands, Thomas shook his head in disbelief. And then came Flookburgh.
"If Carter were here, he'd be cracking up at these names," Thomas snorted.
Finally, the train arrived at Barrow-In-Furness.
After disembarking and gathering their belongings, Thomas's excitement grew. "Alright, son—I know where the Island is. Let's take a walk from here," his dad suggested.
They strolled past buildings toward a dock, where the ocean met the Island. In the distance, a bridge spanned from Barrow-In-Furness to the Island, though it was cordoned off. Towering mountains loomed on the Island's horizon. Thomas felt a surge of disbelief and nostalgia—after all these years, he was finally home. At the gate, a man awaited them.
"Mr. Hatt! Or should I say, Sir Hatt!" the man exclaimed.
"Burnett! It's been ages! And, sir? what do you mean?"
"You bought the Island! You do know that acquiring land here in the UK bestows a 'Sir' title, don't you?" the man replied.
"Bloody hell, I totally forgot about that!" Thomas's dad responded with a laugh.
The man turned to Thomas. "And if it isn't Thomas!" he said with a warm smile. Thomas blushed, surprised to be recognized—it felt a bit like being a celebrity. "Thomas, you must be wondering who you are," his dad explained. "Trust me, son—this is an old friend. You two should get acquainted."
"Huh?" Thomas asked, blinking.
"Stay here—I'll book a hotel in Barrow for myself. You go on with Mr. Stone," his dad instructed.
Thomas nodded.
"Have fun," his dad added.
"So, Thomas! I've heard so much about you!" Mr. Stone greeted warmly. Thomas blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes!"
Thomas wondered how Yong Bao and now Burnett Stone could both know so much about him. Could he be an engine too? As they walked across the bridge, Thomas hesitantly asked, "Mr. Stone... are you... um... an engine?"
"Me? An engine? Oh no, of course not," Burnett laughed. "But I do know much about the magic of you and this Island."
"You do?" Thomas pressed.
Burnett nodded. "This Island is called Sodor. It was once just an ordinary place until her magic transformed people into engines—not exactly her original intention. She simply wished to bestow life upon ordinary engines. She had no intention to turn human beings into machines,"
Thomas thought about it. It kinda made sense.
"She loved engines a lot. There was no one at that time with more passion for these locomotives, than her," Burnett added.
Thomas looked at Burnett. "How do you know this, Mr. Stone?"
"Because she was my wife," Burnett revealed softly.
Thomas's eyes widened. "W-What?!"
With a gentle smile, Burnett continued, "We were just 20 years old at the time. Me being a locomotive buff didn't help with winning the 'cool point' as you kids call it these days. But when I met her, it changed all of that. She was more of a train buff than even me. Hell, she even knew more of locomotives than me on top of all of that!" Burnett explained. "One day, she got the job at a young age to be a locomotive engineer. These were different times, so you could have driven these machines at young ages like this. She first became a fireman, then she moved on to be a driver. She got so good, she could have done the whole job by herself. But as time went on, North Western was replacing their steam engines with diesels..."
Thomas couldn't help but get intrigued by the story all over again. This is exactly what his father was talking about.
"It caused her so much stress. She got so attached to her engine. I don't know where her powers came from. I don't know how long she had it, but either way, she used it. Just, it was from the wrong purpose,"
"What happened to her?" Thomas inquired.
"Well, when she used her powers... she vanished. No trace of her anywhere. I was devastated. When she left like that, I couldn't move on. I knew I had to do something, just didn't know what. After a while, I started to find out. People all over the Island reported that they could change to an engine, and back to a human. I don't know why, but I knew what was the culprit. So, I racked enough money together, to buy the Island myself. This Island was magical. I couldn't let it be accessible to the outside. So, after buying it, I didn't know what to do. That, was until your father came into the picture,"
Thomas tilted his head. "My dad?"
"Yes. Here, take a look at this."
They were walking across the bridge, then stopped. Thomas looked down at what seemed to be a scroll, that was in Burnett's hands. Thomas took it.
"Open it, and read,"
Thomas opened it up.
There were pretty markings on it. Art of engines and magical gold-looking sparkles.
"- Engine of the coat of blue, with the number of confidence, will be the one to wake her from her slumber -"
Thomas stared at it. Could this be the prophecy Yong had mentioned? "This... actually exists?" he asked, incredulous.
"Indeed. I discovered it on my table one night back in the '80s. It had to be from her—who else could have wrote it? It's written in a clumsy third-person style, not her usual flair of writing. Perhaps someone else inscribed it; either way, they knew of you even before you were born. They're guiding me, and perhaps, helping to bring her back," Burnett said.
"Mr. Stone... if you owned the Island, why does my dad now?" Thomas queried.
"Upkeep became overwhelming, and as much as I wanted to keep it for my wife's memory, I grew too old to manage it alone. I needed a reliable steward. When I heard about a man in Toronto whose son was linked to the prophecy, there was no one more suitable than him," Burnett replied.
Thomas nodded. They finally reached the other side.
"I named that bridge Jubilee Bridge—one of her favorite locomotives was the LMS Jubilee," Burnett added.
"Aw, that's sweet," Thomas said with a smile. Burnett grinned, then sighed. "This Island once teemed with trains, but when all the chaos started, it was abandoned."
Thomas pondered for a moment. He remembered coming here as a young child when his dad had wanted to buy the Island but couldn't. "Wait, my dad brought me here years ago, but I don't remember you," he remarked.
"Well, it's hard to remember much from when you were five, huh?" Burnett chuckled. "Honestly, I was probably away back then. I barely remember it myself—like eight years ago, and it's already faded from memory."
Thomas chuckled.
"So, Thomas, show me what you can do,"
They approached an old railway line. The tracks looked aged yet stable, and a brick station stood nearby. "Whoa, that station looks massive!" Thomas exclaimed.
"Doesn't it?" Burnett smiled. "It's called Vickerstown Station! When the Island was bustling with the North Western, this place was as busy as Kings Cross!"
Thomas stood over the tracks, anticipation building inside him. He closed his eyes as the sounds of whistles and hissing steam filled his mind, and then—
WHEEESH
He transformed into the engine. Opening his eyes, he looked at Mr. Stone.
"Brilliant," Mr. Stone said.
At that moment, Burnett was inside Thomas's cab while Thomas chugged along the tracks. Leaving Vickerstown behind, Thomas was exhilarated—this wasn't the tram lines Toronto, but a true railway. He blew at his whistle as he moved along.
"Now, Thomas, what I need from you is to head to a certain spot on the Island," Burnett instructed.
Thomas blinked in confusion. "Huh?" He was baffled. He just came here. For him to find his way to a specific location, would be impossible.
"Don't worry Thomas, I'll guide you, so don't trouble yourself," Burnett said. "The track lines are switched to exactly where I need you to go,"
After chugging along for a while—passing a tunnel and some rolling hills—Burnett called out, "Thomas, slow down here."
Thomas eased his pace, feeling the track curve beneath him. "Oh, alright," he murmured, his wheels gripping the rails. "Um... is my bag still safe in my cab?" he asked.
"Yes, Thomas, your bag with your laptop is fine," came the reply.
"This is the Kirk Ronan BranchLine. It used to be a charming route," Burnett noted. Thomas smiled. He was just happy that this old railway's train tracks were in good condition.
But when Thomas approached what looked like a siding, Burnett ordered him to stop. "See that track? Turn in there," he said.
Thomas glanced down the diverging line. He let off some steam and gently moved forward, turning onto the side track.
The track led into a grassy, wooded area. "Oh! Ow..." Thomas groaned as the bumpy siding jostled him along. It stretched deep into the bushes.
As he continued, Thomas noticed some worn buffers approaching. He gasped and applied his brakes gently. The engine shuddered, and a burst of steam hissed from beneath his chassis. "Uh... Mr. Stone? There... is no more track," Thomas said. "I think I've reached a dead end..."
"Are there any buffers?" Burnett asked.
"Yes, there are, and they look quite old and worn," Thomas observed.
"Good. That means we are in the right place. Keep on chugging and don't stop,"
"But—" Thomas began, his voice trembling slightly. "If I continue, I'll hit the buffers! And they're so decrepit, I'm sure they won't hold up under my weight either—they might snap!"
Burnett chuckled. "Just keep going. Trust me, Thomas."
"But..."
"Thomas, I promise nothing bad will happen,"
"Okay... if you say so, Mr. Stone," Thomas replied reluctantly.
Despite the absurdity of it all, Thomas reasoned that if he moved slowly—say, one mile per hour—he could stop in time before any mishap.
Wheel turn, by wheel turn,Thomas inched forward until he reached the buffers. Slowly and steadily, he halted just as his front buffers neared the old pair..
"Uh... now what?" Thomas murmured.
"Keep on going—" Burnett urged.
Thomas raised an eyebrow in disbelief. Is he insane? he thought.
Thomas jolted forward and continued to move. Then, what happened next, made him so surprised. His buffers fazed right through the pair of old buffers. He gasped, shuddered, and quickly reversed. "Cinders and ashes?! What the-?!"
Burnett laughed. "Proceed on, Thomas!"
Thomas looked down at the buffers.
"The real magical Island awaits," Burnett added with a smile.