The groundbridge was opened quickly and closed just as quickly- enough time for Boulder in his dust form to slip through and onto the island without anyone noticing a giant, glowing portal hovering in mid-air.

The engineer rolled across the ground and then settled into stillness for a moment, listening for activity or human approach... only the wind whistling through an empty space. After a minute, he emerged enough to peer around.

Weathered brick pillars lined several grooves through the ground, with metal beams that sprung from their tops and curved upwards and connected to form the framework for a roof- a roof that had long since lost most of its glass panels, the remnants glistening under a cloudy sky and the shattered portions like glittering sand on the ground. In the grooves were more beams of metal, welded together and underlain by old wood planks rotted away to leave small divots in the soil... old rails.

Broken windows lined the building structures lining the edges of what was obviously once a train station, where passengers would board and exit train cars on their way to their destinations. Boulder was well familiar with the railway system- having read much about it and also having built a train track himself that was supposed to link Griffin Rock with the mainland and sadly went to waste due to malfunctions. He really needed to check and see what kind of structural damage the tunnel sustained when the island teleported away- flooded no doubt, but would it still work as a possible escape route for something catastrophic happening again?

A matter for another time.

Boulder solidified into his full form, standing up and looking around. Whatever activity this station once had, it seemed to have been abandoned long ago. Dirt settled in the cracks of stone had sprouted weeds, the rails were in disrepair, and the entire yard around him showed signs of weathering and neglect.

How's it looking there, Buddy?

Boulder jumped as Graham's voice came through on his comm, how long had he been standing there just staring? "Quiet..." He mumbled, walking slowly towards one of the buildings. "I arrived outside of an old abandoned train station."

Any sign of our mystery mosaics?

"Not yet... Still picking up their signals?"

Clear as day. The nearest one from you is... west.

"I'll look there first, then-"

A loud crash rang out through the abandoned station, sending the mosaic dropping down into a defensive position as he whipped around, but it was then followed by the same eerie silence, and a new, glistening pile of shattered glass- one of the remaining panes had fallen, that was all.

"Phew...!"

Boulder, you okay?

"Y-Yeah, just... Jumpy, I guess."

You're exhausted. Try not to overdo it out there, okay?

"Right... I'll take it slow, I promise. Rest when I need to."

Boulder shook off the trembling trying to crawl up his frame and moved on, headed west and keeping an optic out for any humans nearby. He didn't need to make an incident...

__________________________________________________________

The space was filled with the sound of metal creaking and groaning, but Diesel wasn't sure if the creaking was coming from the door or himself.

"Oh come on... come on...!"

He'd managed to get his fingers tucked up under the massive door holding him from freedom, trapping him inside of what used to be the Diesel Engines' shed. Rust crawled up the walls and wind whistled through the tiny, broken windows up above his head, and he was strangely alone. He hadn't been alone when he'd gone to sleep the night before. Several other diesel engines had been here with him, all getting some rest after a particularly long and hard day.

"Errgh...! W-Where's Diesel Ten's claw arm when you could use it...!?" He grunted.

Waking up like this, with arms and legs, had been startling, but he'd put it aside for the time being to focus on dealing with the more pressing matter of being trapped. Once he was on his new feet and had gotten a few good steps in, he made it his mission to become un-trapped.

"H-Hello!?" He shouted, hoping someone, somewhere out there, might be able to hear him. "Is anyone-WHOA!"

He wasn't prepared for the door to suddenly budge, and not upward like he was attempting- but outward as it popped loose from the hinges and came crashing down.

Diesel moved back in time to dodge the door, but still grimaced as it folded and crumpled in front of him on the ground. The echoes of the sound rang in his ears and off of the nearby buildings for several seconds, before fading away into an uncomfortable silence.

"Um... Oops?" He muttered, but to both his confusion and relief, there was nobody there to judge his actions but himself. "Okay...? H-Hello? Anybody?"

He walked out into the open space, looking around for the other engines. He'd worry about trying to explain what happen to him once he found the others- and well, when he figured what happened to him to that he could explain, of course.

"Paxton? Den? Dart? Diesel 10?... Anyone!?"

Only the wind answered him.

"O-Okay, okay. D-Don't panic! They're just probably all out doing their jobs, right? Right, you're fine..." He hissed to himself, "...They just left you here in the shed because you can't pull cars like this! O-Or shunt cars, or... be really, really... Oh no... I'm not useful! I-I'm not useful! I-If I'm not useful, what's going to happen to me!?"

No engine- diesel or otherwise- that Diesel had ever spoken with really knew what happened to an engine when they were no longer useful. They were simply hauled off and never seen again. Diesel had to be useful, he had to be! There had to be something a giant, metal person like he was now could do to be useful on the island- he just needed to find it.

He lifted his head as he heard a whistle on the wind- a train whistle. It wasn't like that of a diesel engine, which meant it had to be a steamie. Great, not what he wanted to see or hear right now. Who it was, Diesel didn't know- he'd never really bothered to try and memorize different steamies' whistles like he had his fellow Diesel engines- but it had sounded close... and perhaps a little frantic.

Whistles... did he still have his own? If he did, could he use it to call back to them? Should he? How many engines and humans knew he was like this? What if he just frightened them away when he approached?

"...Ugh."
He started to talk towards the direction of the sound, towards the trailing rails that led up the slope... Come to think of it, the rails appeared a bit old. He looked down at the ones below his feet, seeing rusted metal, broken boards and even the ballast seemed scattered by wind and rain. The rails didn't look to have been used in quite some time... Odd.

The whistle came again, louder this time. Whoever they were, they were getting closer. Diesel wished he could respond, but he had no idea how to blow his whistle like this.

There was one whistle he could immediately recognize when he heard it, that being of Sir Topham Hatt's 'Number One Engine,' the railway controller's poster engine, the favorite. Fizzling fireboxes, Diesel could hardly stand Thomas. What made him so special!? What made any of the steamies so special! Diesel engines could do just as much work- no, twice as much work!- as any of the other engines, so why did they always seem overlooked?... Wait, where was he going?

He paused again, finding himself to have turned off to the side from the hill leading up towards the rest of the island. Why would he have turned? He looked down... "...Oh."

He'd turned because the rails had turned, looping and winding through the area and crossing with other tracks. The path still led to the hill, but it was by no means a straight line. Had he been following the tracks' path this whole time?

"Dah... Habit." He muttered, intentionally turning his body back in the right direction.

"Diesel!"

The voice came from the top of the hill, and Diesel looked up, expecting to see another engine settled at the top. If they could recognize him from this distance, then word must've traveled fast. But as he looked, he saw not another engine exactly, but the same odd shape he was in, a mechanical figure, looking down and their paneling painted in a vibrant shade of blue...

"Diesel, are you okay down there?"

For a split moment, Diesel had feared the worst. Thomas was like this too, here to mock him and shove his perfect little tender in Diesel's face- but instead, the voice was older, gentler, and Diesel relaxed just a hint as he recognized one of the oldest engines on Sodor. "...Edward."

"I'll take that as a yes." Edward's head tilted, "Do you need any help?"

"No, I don't need help!" Diesel snapped, "I can handle things just fine on my own!"

Edward stood up straight again, mumbling something that sounded like a 'Well, alright then...'

Diesel felt a little bad, but he didn't try to apologize. Edward wasn't typically one to mock and act mean towards the diesel engines, but he didn't really interact with them much either unless necessary.

Diesel reached the bottom of the hill and then started up the slope- up until the ballast began to slip under his feet. He stumbled, falling forward and slamming into the ballast and stone ground beneath it. "Oof! Ow...!"

"Pssh... See? I told you."
It would seem that Edward wasn't alone. A second voice came from the top of the hill, and he saw the scarlet engine of Tidmouth Sheds standing a little behind Edward, arms crossed and glaring back at the diesel engine. "Won't take help even if they need it."

"Oh, just you wait until I get up there, James." Diesel snarled, "I'll wipe that smirk off your face and your splendid red paint-"

"Do not threaten the paint job!"

"Quiet," Edward reprimanded softly, "Steam or diesel engine, we're all like this now, so please... Let's try to get along."

Diesel grumbled, getting up from the ballast and trying again.

It took a few more tries and several more slips, but he finally reached the top of the hill, ultimately because Edward grabbed his left arm at the last second and helped haul him up over the edge. "I told you, I had it just fine without you."

"I know." Edward mumbled, and then got up from the ground where he'd been crouched.

Diesel shook stray pieces of ballast from his plating, listening to the wind whistle around them. The island didn't seem any louder up here than it had been at the bottom of the hill. "...Where is everyone?"

Edward looked out over the island, "...Not sure. There should be engines all over by now... but it's quiet, and... I haven't seen any passengers either."

"No humans or engines?"

All three of them looked up as a low roll of thunder passed over their heads, the gray clouds appearing to be getting darker as they approached. "...We need to find who else is here."

"How do you know anyone else is here?"

Edward turned back towards the younger engines, "...I just do. We'll head for Knapford Station, hopefully we can find Sir Topham Hatt and he can tell us what's going on around here..."