Chapter Text
Karl Roßmann was confused.
He was seated on a train, which was very strange to the sixteen-year-old since he had no recollection of having ever boarded a train in the first place. The last thing he could remember was walking down the hallway of his home holding a glass of water he was carrying to his father. How he went from that to sitting in a train was a complete mystery to him. He felt like someone ripped out a chunk of his memories and spliced his present together with some random disconnected moment in his past. It was unsettling.
Equally concerning was the fact that his right cheek throbbed with an intense pain. When Karl tried to brush his tongue against where his gums were hurting, he was terrified to feel his tongue go through his cheek.
For confirmation, unable to accept the existence of this absurd injury on his face, the boy poked at his cheek with his finger and was dismayed to feel it too pass through his cheek and into his mouth.
There was no longer any denying it. His cheek had been torn open.
However, after confirming this, Karl started to calm down. His injury was no longer a mystery; it was now an objective fact.
Of course, having a massive hole in his cheek that probably allowed the other passengers on the train to see directly through to his teeth and tongue was just about the worst imaginable thing that could have possibly happened to his face, that was undeniable. But now that he knew, it felt commonplace to Karl, as if he'd had this injury all his life. The thought of getting upset by it now felt as absurd to him as the thought of getting upset by the large mole on the back of his neck. It was simply an immutable aspect of his existence. What could he do but accept it? There were more important things to think about: like figuring out which train he was even on.
Fortunately, this question was quickly answered, as a simple glance at the massive stylized "W" on the ceiling was all the explanation Karl needed.
He was on a WARP Train.
A shudder ran through the boy's spine, he had to get off the train, and quickly! If he didn't, there was no telling where he would end up! For all he knew, the train would leave him stranded on the other side of the City if he didn't hurry up and get out before it departed! Additionally, there was also the comparatively minor issue that WARP Trains gave Karl the willies. Ever since the inexplicable scandal where all the passengers of a WARP Train mysteriously vanished by the time it reached its destination, he made a promise to himself that he'd never board a WARP Train if he could help it. Everyone Karl knew offered their own potential theories for what happened to the passengers, and none of them were pleasant. Karl's own theory was that there was some kind of a crack or hole in the structure of the train, leading to all the passengers pouring out of the train en masse where they were forever lost in some other dimension and would never return home as long as they lived.
He leapt to his feet and frantically ran towards the still-open doors and jumped out, attracting the stares of more than a few of his fellow passengers.
Unfortunately, Karl was far too late. His train had already arrived at its destination since the moment he began questioning why he was on a train in the first place. As such, the boy flopped down on the wooden floor of R Corp.'s WARP Train station.
Thankfully, there was a rough map of the City attached to one of the various signboards in the station so Karl was able to quickly check how far away R Corp. was in relation to N Corp.. Having never felt the slightest desire to spend his life anywhere besides his hometown of Prague, he'd never become as acquainted with the City's geography as he should have been and therefore had no idea how far away he was from home.
From this map, Karl was able to determine that out of all the Wings he could have possibly been in at that moment, he was essentially as far away from N Corp. as was physically possible without leaving the bounds of the City.
Karl was at a loss about how he could possibly return home, but he figured that if there was anyone who could possibly help him, it would be the WARP Train personnel. Therefore, he approached the nearest group of WARP agents he saw and said, "Excuse me. I'm sorry to bother all of you at what's probably a very busy time, but I don't really know who else to ask. Basically, I accidently…" his voice trailed off as it occurred to him as he was talking that his request was completely ridiculous and not something anyone could help him with. It wasn't as though he had any money with which he could buy a new ticket with after all, "…actually, nevermind, it was nothing. I apologize for taking up your valuable time."
The WARP Train personnel stared at him for a few moments, quite fixedly at the gaping wound on his face, before flatly telling him to get lost and to not even think of trying to listen in on what they were saying.
With an apology, Karl acquiesced to their request and walked away from the group with his hands in his pockets, pondering what he should do.
He imagined that the only thing he really could do was find a job somewhere and slowly gather enough Ahn to buy a ticket back to N Corp.. It was really very simple and he felt ashamed for even considering wasting the employees valuable time with a question so crushingly simple.
The real issue was actually figuring out how to get a job. Having been in school since he was a child (or rather a slightly younger child,) studying with the vague hopes that what he learned would eventually help him get a job somewhere in an abstract sort of way, Karl had no idea where to start and had a complete lack of any and all practical skills that he could use to make himself appear valuable to employers. He'd grown up looking upon employed persons with a kind of divine awe, as if he was gazing upon people on a higher plane of existence than he could ever hope to reach without years upon years of hard work and study. As such, the thought of just casually finding a job (no matter how mundane or demeaning) felt impossibly far to him.
However, before despair could take hold of the boy's heart, his hand brushed against a carefully folded up piece of official-feeling paper (it felt to the touch the way Karl imagined paper used by the government to feel) in his pocket.
He removed the paper from his pocket and unfolded it.
At the top of the page, printed in massive bold letters, were the words: "VERDICT OF THE NAGEL UND HAMMER SUPREME COURT IN THE CASE OF MR. AND MRS. GEORGE AND FRIEDA ROßMANN VS. KARL ROßMANN."
Karl read and re-read this headline over twenty times before he had no choice but to accept the fact that he had read it correctly the first time.
It was beyond comprehension, the thought that his parents brought a lawsuit against him, and to the N Corp. Supreme Court no less. It was absurd.
The boy's mind raced with countless visions of the horrible crime he had to have committed to warrant such extreme action being taken against him. Whatever it was, it had to have been Karl's own fault since he had the utmost faith in the righteousness of his parents and lived with the implicit belief that everything they did was just. He felt assured that they would only go so far as to bring a case against him if he had done something truly unforgivable, and he was terrified imagining what abominable sin he must have committed. However, his only answers lay in the paper he was holding. Therefore, steeling his resolve, Karl began reading:
"The defendant, Mr. Karl Roßmann, was found guilty of the crime of [REDACTED]. However, due to the highly unusual circumstances of such an act being perpetrated by an underage criminal, the court ruled against putting the defendant to death. Instead, in the hopes of eventually rehabilitating the accused's delinquent tendencies, the judges ruled that Mr. Karl Roßmann, effective immediately, is to be exiled from the borders of Nagel und Hammer until he reaches twenty years of age. Once the defendant comes of age, his case will be reevaluated. If the defendant's conduct (which will be monitored by Nagel und Hammer staff) during the intervening four years reveals his delinquent conduct to be revised, he will be permitted to resume life as a citizen of Nagel und Hammer. If the defendant's delinquent conduct is unchanged at the end of this period, he will be executed summarily. In order to increase the likelihood of the defendant's behavior being revised, the experiences of his crime have been canned and will be destroyed following the closing of these proceedings. Any third-party who reveals the defendant's crime to him will be subjected to a two year prison sentence. Additionally, in accordance with the guidelines of City law, the defendant's sentence is to be engraved into his face so that honest City citizens can immediately recognize Mr. Roßmann as the dangerous criminal he is and take appropriate precautions; if his rehabilitation is judged successful, his engraving is to be filled in. Following canning procedures, the defendant is to be sent away on the nearest WARP Train before regaining consciousness."
After finishing this note, Karl solemnly walked over to the window of the train and examined his reflection in its black reflective glass. Inscribed into his right cheek was the word "EXILE," the letters pierced all the way through.
Karl's legs trembled under his weight, he felt like his whole world was crumbling beneath him. He barely managed to reach a nearby bench before collapsing into it, burying his head in his hands.
How could he have done something so vile? Of course, just as his decree dictated, he didn't have the faintest clue as to what it was he actually did, but he couldn't imagine that it was anything less than the most heinous of crimes with just how harsh a penalty he was given. He was lucky that N Corp. was willing to show mercy to scum like him.
It was strange, however, that the experiences of his crime were to be destroyed. He would have imagined that such experiences should have been preserved to serve as crucial evidence for the case at hand. But, surely, there was an incredibly important reason for the destruction of these experiences, one that Karl was simply too young and foolish to understand. Surely.
More importantly, he couldn't believe he had the shame to go and commit a crime. Hadn't he learnt his lesson from the last time he broke the law just how abominable it was to violate it?!
Karl trembled with shame remembering the incident. He'd been eight years old at the time, and he was pathetically craving a pack of bubble gum. However, he'd already spent his allowance for the month. Of course, even as a small child he'd understood that stealing was wrong, however his immature desperation for sweets won out against his morals and he attempted to pocket the candy and exit the store surreptitiously. Fortunately, when he tried to leave the store, one of the cashiers caught him and rightfully delivered him to his parents. Karl always believed that as long as the scars on his back from the thrashing he received from his father that day remained, they would serve as an eternal deterrent to prevent him from doing anything bad ever again. But, clearly, it wasn't enough.
Why hadn't he learnt his lesson?
Would he never be able to return home? Home to his parents who were probably worried sick about him and loved him dearly. Divorced from everything he associated with his life, what was he to do?