Chapter Thirteen: Erosion of Time

Stephenson and Sandra both felt a chill run down their spines after listening, now convinced that countless pairs of eyes, large and small, might be watching them from the surrounding haze. Before Dunn and Lily spoke, things had seemed tolerable, aside from the oppressive limits on their vision imposed by the mist. Nothing had felt particularly amiss. But now everything was different. Sandra even suspected that a giant spider might suddenly burst out of the collapsed convenience store beside her—and if that happened, she would return to the orphanage without hesitation and swear never to leave again. Sandra had a severe case of arachnophobia.

“Is it too late for us to turn back now?” Stephenson asked timidly.

Camille shot Stephenson an exasperated glance. If she, a girl, wasn’t afraid, why were all these boys so spineless? Besides, Lily was with them. With Lily around, what was there to fear?

Of course, Lily had no idea that Camille was one of her two biggest fans in the orphanage. The other was John… but he was missing now.

“Going back isn’t an option,” Lily replied simply, bringing up the rear of the group.

“Haha… I was just saying,” Stephenson scratched his head awkwardly.

“All right, let’s keep going,” Lily said, not responding further.

As their exploration continued, they discovered something even more disturbing: the farther east they went, the worse the condition of the streets, buildings, and shops became.

Collapsed buildings appeared with increasing frequency. The cars on the roads grew rustier, and the streetlights on either side were bent, some even toppled to the ground.

Even Waterloo Millennium Green was now bare and desolate. Whether it was because sunlight hadn’t reached it in a long time or for some other reason, no one could say.

“Is that… a hospital over there?” Stephenson asked uncertainly, gazing at the half-collapsed five-story building opposite Millennium Park.

Aiden nodded.

A question nagged at Lily’s mind: if the city center had changed so drastically, why had John never mentioned any of it in his routine reports? Or did he simply not notice anything wrong?

“Camille, when you last went out on a ‘screening patrol’ with John, was the city already in this condition?”

Lily decided to first ask about their previous experiences.

“Definitely not. Last time we went out, the city streets weren’t nearly this dilapidated,” Camille replied seriously, looking around.

“So this transformation only started happening recently…” Dunn mused.

“And… the farther from… the orphanage… the worse it gets,” Aiden added.

“John’s team vanished without warning, and now the city is experiencing this bizarre time erosion phenomenon… Let’s call it that for now,” Dunn proposed, inventing a term on the spot. He continued, “It’s hard not to suspect that John’s disappearance is connected to this strange time erosion.”

Lily and the others nodded in agreement. Dunn might talk a lot, but he was clever, and his analysis made sense.

“It seems we also need to figure out the cause of this time erosion,” Lily sighed. It was a daunting task.

“That’s our last resort. Besides, it’s unlikely we can unravel the cause of the time erosion in just one expedition,” Dunn reassured her.

“Sounds like it might be a long battle,” Sandra said, cracking her knuckles.

“If we keep going, we’ll reach Waterloo Station soon. Let’s figure out how to cross to the other side of the Thames,” Dunn suggested.

He felt that focusing on the time erosion was pointless, since there was no way to reach a conclusion or get any answers right now.

“How do we cross the Thames…” Lily rummaged through her backpack for a map.

But Aiden had already unfolded a city map of Dunlun, pointing something out to Dunn.

Dunn looked it over and spoke more quickly: “We could cross Waterloo Bridge next to Southbank Theatre, or take the railway tracks between Embankment and Waterloo stations. If we go via Embankment, we should soon see Big Ben.”

“John may have crossed the Thames by either route, but as for exactly which way he went, we have no way of knowing,” Lily said, studying the map with a hint of frustration.

“In theory, yes,” Dunn replied without hesitation, “but based on John’s reports, he went to Embankment far more often than the Southbank side.” It was clear he’d already given this some thought.

“Do you have any suggestions, Aiden?” Lily asked, watching Aiden’s calm face.

“My… suggestion…” Aiden looked bewildered. Wasn’t this just a fifty-fifty choice? Either route was as good as the other.

Seeing Aiden’s confusion, Lily suddenly realized the same thing. Her cheeks flushed, and she quickly reached over Sandra’s head and produced the Queen’s-head coin she’d previously taken.

Apart from Aiden, the others stared in astonishment. How had Lily produced a coin from atop Sandra’s head?

Sandra, unconvinced, turned and rummaged through her deep red curls, trying to find another coin.

With a crisp flick, Lily sent the coin spinning into the air, caught it easily, glanced at the result, and announced, “We’ll head toward Big Ben.”

A simple and decisive method, indeed.

So, the group set off for Waterloo Station.

As they approached, it was obvious that the streets were growing wider and the buildings more resplendent. The streetlights were now adorned with proper decorations. The shop signs showed real design flair, and everywhere there were floor-to-ceiling windows and large advertising posters, all in good condition, with little damage or breakage.

Aiden even found a dozen cans of food and a box of clean water in the storeroom of a convenience store near the station, indirectly replenishing everyone’s supplies.

Standing at the largest intersection by the station, Lily took in the ornate facades and intact pavement, unable to suppress a sense of wonder.

Even under the strange time erosion, nothing could fully obscure the former grandeur and splendor of these buildings and streets. No wonder Waterloo was one of Dunlun’s most famous railway stations.