The crowd bustled about like a migrating colony of penguins, packed tight and teeming. Voices echoed under the arched spacious dome, magnifying every subtle sound in the continuous reverberation, the whispers eventually seemed as if they were murmuring directly into your ears.
Looking up, one could see the historical clock, with ticking sounds as its gears meshed together, rotating and slowly pushing time forward. The steel beams hung like the skeleton supporting the structure, spreading beneath the dome. The steam train slowly approached the station along the tracks, and you would see the mist rising with the whistle, as if it were the breath of this iron beast.
Old Dunling Central Station, one of the vital hubs of the entire city, where tracks sprawled like veins across Ingwig's land, allowing access to any destination within Ingwig.
"I still think this trip isn't very reliable."
"Don't worry, just think of it as accompanying me to gather creative inspiration."
