He didn't wait to learn more. He bolted for the train as the clerk's window shattered behind him. He dove through the doors just as they slammed shut. Panting on the floor, he found a note on the seat: "Good. You finally listened. Veliska is real, and it's home. Rest now." The train carried him into the light.

He turned to face the window, and the clerk was gone. In his place stood a shadow with no face. "You can't leave," it hissed. The man held up the recorder and pressed play again, loud. His own steady voice filled the room. The shadow shrank back from a name it could not take, then broke apart and was gone. The exit doors clicked open, and he walked out free.