❝In the tale of fate, the red string connects us all, but not every thread leads to a soulmate.❞
In a world where love is entwined with fate, an abandoned conductor escapes the confines of an unnatural train into a universe he's forgotten.
As he nav...
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Soulmates.
The word itself dripped with fantasy, like something from the pages of a worn-out romance novel or a scene in an old film reel.
Mortals had always been obsessed with the idea—finding their "other half," the one person who would complete them. It was a foolish obsession, a desperate longing for a connection most would never truly understand.
In truth, soulmates were a rarity, a near-myth.
And yet, mortals clung to the belief with an iron grip, as if their entire existence depended on it. They spun stories about the red string of fate, an invisible thread that bound two souls together, guiding them across time and space until they met. But they never talked about what came after, what it truly meant to be bound by something so fragile and unbreakable.
They wanted the fantasy.
They wanted the grand gestures, the stolen glances, the chance encounters that led to epic love stories. Mortals were willing to do anything for it. They would board trains in the dead of night, gamble with their lives, and step into the unknown, all for the chance to find this elusive "better half."
It seemed glamorous—romantic, even. But they didn't see the truth beneath the surface.
The truth was that soulmates weren't always a blessing. They weren't a perfect fit, as stories led them to believe. Sometimes, soulmates brought nothing but tragedy. The bond was unyielding, suffocating even. Once connected, the strings of fate could not be severed, no matter how much one tried. People weren't meant to be completed by another person. The idea that someone else could fill the gaps in their soul was a lie, a cruel myth they clung to out of fear of being alone.
Mortals romanticized what they didn't understand. They dreamed of passion, of love that could transcend time, but they didn't understand the weight of it. To be tied to another soul was to be bound to their pain, their suffering. When one broke, the other shattered with them. When one left, the other was lost. It wasn't love—it was dependency, an endless cycle of seeking validation in another's existence.
Most of them would never find their soulmate. The strings of fate didn't dangle in front of every heart. For many, it was a futile search, one that led them down paths of despair and longing, leaving them bitter and broken. But that didn't stop them from trying, from hoping that one day, they would find the one person who would make them whole.
They didn't see the reality. Soulmates weren't a fairytale ending—they were a tragedy waiting to happen.
And yet, the mortals kept boarding the Bound Line Express, chasing after a love they couldn't possibly understand, ignoring the warning signs and consequences that awaited them.
Because, in the end, the charm of soulmates was stronger than the truth.
