Bill expected it, in all honesty. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest when he saw that everyone in the next cabin was lying perfectly still with their heads or head-analogues severed clean from their bodies, and he would have been astonished if one of the maps of the Void in the cabin hadn’t been taken down. But there it was, in its grotesque glory. And rocking back and forth in the middle of it was Flumpty.
As Bill rolled his eye and floated over to Flumpty, he heard that the egg was repeating the phrase The train keeps running over and over, quietly, under his breath. Sighing, Bill did the trick where you put your pointer finger in the gap between your opposite hand’s pointer and middle fingers, then bring that bridge up to your chin and have the pointer finger rub against the fleshy thing in between your opposite hand’s pointer and middle fingers while moving downwards, so it creates a loud popping sound. You know the one I’m talking about, right? Please tell me you do, so I know I’m not crazy. Split drives me insane with it all the time, I’m telling you.
Bill did that thing, and it was enough to snap Flumpty out of his stupor once more. It was also enough to make blood start flowing out of the exposed muscles of everyone Flumpty had decapitated. I’D ASK WHAT HAPPENED HERE, BUT IT’S REALLY NOT HARD TO GUESS. Flumpty floated out of the pool of pink sizzling liquid he’d made while meditating on screams.
Bill turned to look at the Void. The cosmic dust and detritus was thinning out, and he hadn’t seen a proper universe in quite some time. WE’RE GETTING CLOSE TO THE END, DONALD FLUMP. IS YOUR... SICKNESS GETTING WORSE? Flumpty nodded both weakly and with solitude. As we inch closer to Death, I hear it with more clarity. I feel it in my bones, enough to make my systems blow. STOP QUOTING THE WORST OF HUMAN POP CULTURE AND GET GOING! AS BEST AS I CAN TELL, WE ONLY HAVE THIRTEEN MORE PARAGRAPHS UNTIL WE REACH THE ENDS OF THE EARTH, AND WE’RE STILL NOWHERE NEAR THE CONDUCTOR’S QUARTERS! Are you sure. PRETTY SURE, YEAH! BY MY ESTIMATE, THOUSANDS OF CARRIAGES MUST HAVE PASSED BY WHILE WE WERE WAITING TO HOP ONTO THIS THING! Flumpty hovered above Bill, staring him directly in the eye. Remember what I said. Be concerned with nothing but your you. Your will is absolute. I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID, EGG, BUT... WAIT, OF COURSE!
Bill extended his arms, staring at the envelope and turning it so he could look at both sides. I’M SURE THIS SITUATION COULD BENEFIT FROM SOME ADDITIONAL EYEWEAR, HUH? LOOKS LIKE THIS THING HAS A WAX SEAL... I’D BETTER DO THE OLD PARTY TRICK! Flumpty watched as Bill’s eye unfolded into a mouth and bit down on the wax seal with the force of two universes. The seal broke immediately, waves of negative energy toppling the polarity of the Infinity Train. What should have been a massive explosion bisecting the train was absorbed entirely as the envelope was swallowed by Bill’s mouth. He merely lit up with blinding light for a few seconds, and then spit the envelope back out, revealing a piece of parchment within.
Many tense seconds went by before Bill dared to speak again, his eye running over the parchment’s contents over and over again. When he looked up at Flumpty, it was with an expression of undiluted, concentrated, soul-crushing rage. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. YOU. HAVE GOT. TO BE. KIDDING! ME! Bill threw the parchment away in disgust, his hands trembling into fists and his orchid color scheme losing any sense of cohesion, warping into a kaleidoscopic mess. The entire train began to rumble, and not just because it was screaming through the Void. Flumpty snatched the paper from the air and read it quietly to himself. Even he could appreciate it.
[INTERROBANG’S GUIDE ON HOW TO MAKE A SET OF INTERROBANG-CERTIFIED RED SUNGLASSES]
Step 1. Get the frame of the glasses.
Step 2. Get the lenses of the glasses.
Step 3. Roll up the four corners of existence into a ball. (That shouldn’t be too hard for you, right?)
You’re welcome,
{‽}
Bill spun wildly in a circle, fires forming by his feet. OH, YEAH, GREAT IDEA, MASON! WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT?? JUST TAKE THE CORNERS OF AN EXISTENCE LITERALLY DEFINED BY THE IDEA THAT IT IS IN CONSTANT GEOMETRICAL FLUX DESPITE HAVING METAMATHEMATICALLY RIGID FOUNDATIONS AND ROLL THEM UP INTO A TINY LITTLE BALL! WHY DIDN’T I THINK OF THAT?? THAT’S TOTALLY SOMETHING I CAN DO! ABSOLUTELY, DEFINITELY! NOT A PROBLEM AT ALL! IT’S NOT LIKE THE END GOAL OF MY PLAN IS ME BEING ABLE TO DO THAT OR ANYTHING, AND I NEED THESE GLASSES TO GET ME THERE! NOPE, NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT OF THAT! Images of Interrobang dying in successively more gruesome deaths flashed by in Bill’s body as he murderously turned to Flumpty. HE BAMBOOZLED ME. ME! THE GREATEST CON MAN IN EXISTENCE! A DEITY OF DEALS THAT OUTSMARTED THE HUMAN RACES OF COUNTLESS DIMENSIONS! I’M BETTER THAN THIS! I’VE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS! I...! I...
Bill sank to one of the seats in the cabin, accompanying the crowd that barely paid attention to his outbursts. WHO AM I KIDDING? I’VE SPENT MY ENTIRE EXISTENCE BUILDING MYSELF UP TO BE SOMETHING I’M NOT. I CAN BARELY CONVINCE ANYONE OF ANYTHING ANYMORE, CAN I? YOU SAID MY WILL WAS ABSOLUTE, BUT WHO AM I IF I CAN LET SOME THREE-DIMENSIONAL SKIN CELL BOSS ME AROUND? The flames in Bill’s hands weakly sputtered and died. I’M A FAILURE, AREN’T I. I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT’S UP WITH YOUR SCREAMING VISIONS, I DIDN’T KNOW WHAT DO WITH GASTER, I LET INTERROBANG OUTSMART ME, AND NOW I’M UNCHARACTERISTICALLY WHINING ABOUT IT. MAYBE I SHOULD JUST GIVE UP MY QUEST TO FIND THE CONDUCTOR. MAYBE I SHOULD STOP TRYING TO PLAY GOD. IF I’M GOING TO BE STUCK IN A STORY FOR ETERNITY ANYWAY, DOES IT EVEN MATTER? Bill sank further into his chair, and as Flumpty watched, Bill’s body gradually became more stony and gray. Suddenly, completely abruptly, Flumpty’s eyes lit up with a powerful white flame. He ran over to Bill, his hand growing to an absurd size as he smacked Bill square in the eye.
Falling out of the chair and onto the ground, Bill clutched his eye and screamed. OW, MY EYE! WH-WHAT IN DANTE’S INFERNO WAS THAT FOR?? YOU OF ALL PEOPLE KNOW HOW IMPORTANT MY EYE IS TO ME! Flumpty’s hand shrunk back to normal size, and he stared Bill down.
SO YOU THINK EVERYONE ON THIS TRAIN IS STUCK HERE, HUH? YOU MIGHT BE ON TO SOMETHING, GROUCHO. SOME OF THESE PEOPLE LOOK REALLY, REALLY OLD! I THINK I SAW A COUPLE OF PIGMEN BACK THERE! Flumpty nodded. Something is chaining them to this spot. Lost in their own insecurities, like you almost were. Negativity breeds negativity. But we are brothers. Immune to plot. Flumpty marched ahead, incredibly determined. Flakes of purple energy trailed from his body. No one has come back and lived because they stopped trying along the way. We must never stop trying. We will break the cycle. For we are Bill Cipher, and Flumpty Bumpty. And I say, as a sentient egg, when I open this door, we will step foot in the conductor’s cabin. Bill raised his hand, as if to add to or protest Flumpty’s words, but he found that nothing more could be said except TOGETHER. Flumpty nodded. The two of them reached the door at the end of the cabin, which stood above them, ominously. Flumpty’s hand trailed with black ooze, Bill’s with dual flame.
They opened the door, and smoke poured from the cavity. When they stepped through, they ended up in an incredibly old and antiquated control center made from rusted voidmetals and old panels. This room was much smaller than the long, stretched out cabins, and was arranged in a semicircle, with the walls being one continuous window from which they could see the full breadth of the incoming Void as it barreled through the Infinity Train. Strapped to a chair in the middle of the room, next to the train’s controls, was a skeleton dressed in a conductor’s outfit. Flumpty scoffed. Anticlimax. Bill floated over to the skeleton with great interest, examining him from top to bottom. WELL, I’LL SAY THE OBVIOUS! HE’S DEAD. BEEN DEAD FOR EONS! BUT THEN, WHO’S BEEN COMMANDING THE TRAIN? A single word spiked its way through the minds of both Bill and Flumpty, simultaneously, nailing them to the floor. Me.
In a corner of the room blocked by shadows, a tall frail man stepped out. He was dressed in a tweed suit, had pale skin, and most importantly, lacked a head — there was only a crackling formless void. Bill’s pupil shrank to a dot, and he closed his eye. YOU. YOU JUST CAN’T LEAVE ME ALONE, HUH? The Critic walked across the conductor’s cabin. Afraid not. The contract dictates I check in on you from time to time. THE CONTRACT? SO YOU’RE A FELLOW DEALMAKER? WOW, LEARN SOMETHING NEW ABOUT YOU EVERY CENTURY! Of sorts. Though the contract in question was more metaphorical than anything. Now, the Critic coolly continued as he laid a hand on the controls of the Infinity Train, I see that you have figured out the secret of the Infinity Train. Well done. Give yourselves a round of applause, if you desire. Flumpty clapped enthusiastically, but Bill merely stared at the Critic.
ENOUGH WITH THE GAMES! YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THAT FICTION IS DRAWING TO A CLOSE, AND I THINK THAT MEANS NOW’S AS GOOD A TIME AS ANY FOR YOU TO START OPENING UP! SO SPILL IT! The head of the skeleton in the chair appeared in the Critic’s formless void. “Some things should never open.” It fell away and revealed the panicked expression of Notch. “Don’t let him open the door!” It fell away and revealed the methodical face of Build. “As one door closes, another door opens.” The Critic took a few steps closer to Bill. Three questions, three answers. And as for your comment on games, do you really think you have the authority to tell me to stop playing them? You, the master of playing with your food before you eat it? ACTUALLY, THAT WAS FLUMPTY, AND I SAID AS MUCH EARLIER, BUT FINE! I’LL PLAY YOUR GAME, CRITIC. QUESTION NUMBER ONE! ARE YOU MY AGENT OF THE CONFLICT? Yes. Pause. WAIT, REALLY? Yes. DID THAT COUNT AS QUESTION TWO? Yes, and that counted as question three.
Bill took out a golden frying pan and flattened himself with it. Now tell me, how did you come to that conclusion? After he’d picked himself back up and restored himself to semi-normality, he levied an accusing finger at the Critic. IT TOOK A WHILE, BUT I EVENTUALLY FIGURED IT OUT! YOU ALWAYS GAVE ME ADVICE IN YOUR OWN ROUNDABOUT WAYS, I FIRST MET YOU IN MY DREAMS, JUST LIKE HOW THAT SHADOW ENTERED THE MIND OF SCARRED EYE, AND I HEARD YOUR VOICE AT THE MEETING OF THE AGENTS I WAS SO IDIOTICALLY KICKED OUT OF! YOU ONLY EVER APPEARED WHEN YOU HAD SOMETHING TO SAY, I COULD TELL THAT YOU WERE OLD ENOUGH TO FIT THE PART, EVEN THOUGH YOU SAID YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN AGE... ALL THE SIGNS POINTED TO IT! Fascinating. And now what will you do with this information? Bill once again summoned his cane, which lit up with intense flame, a blade rising from its end that shimmered with cold power. YOU REALLY THINK I, THE MASTER OF FREEDOM, WOULD BE SATISFIED WITH SOME BIGWIG CALLING EVERY ONE OF MY SHOTS? I’M THE DETERMINER OF MY OWN DESTINY, BUCKO! AND I’M NOT GOING TO LET YOU TAKE THAT FROM ME!
The Critic shook his head, void falling from side to side. You fool. I cannot take away something that you never had. But, if you insist. The Critic reached into the void that was his head and pulled out an umbrella and a pocket watch. The pocket watch, he held in his left hand, and the umbrella, in his right. An incredibly sharp point peeked out from its tip. Let us, as they say, “have a go at it.” With Bill and Flumpty staring down daggers at a true, bona-fide Agent of the Conflict, they felt ready to take on the whole of existence. But just before the first blow could be struck, the entire Infinity Train heaved to the side, and the three of them lost their balance, tumbling every which way. Damn it all! the Critic yelled as Bill and Flumpty both realized what was happening.
AS MUCH AS I WANT TO GET THIS STRIFE OVER WITH, IF I COULD CRITICIZE ONE THING ABOUT YOU, CRITIC, IT’S THAT YOU REALLY NEED TO HAVE BETTER TIMING! BILL AND FLUMPTY ARE OUT, SUCKER! Bill and Flumpty leapt through the front window of the Infinity Train, shattering it and, through broken glass, flinging themselves into the very edge of the Void. The entire Infinity Train became exposed to the harshness of the Void, and it disrupted the very fragile instruments keeping it running. The Critic furiously tried to attend to everything, but it was too late — the Train began losing steam and pitching harshly downwards, straight for the ground.
The Critic held his pocket watch in his hand and crunched it as he stared at the Ends of the Earth that approached him from all sides. With little time to spare, he evaporated away as the Infinity Train crashed into the edge of Fiction, detonating in a massive fireball. The echoes reverberated all the way to every conceivable universe.
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