Doomsday Migration: The Barrier Breaker

Lin Mo huddled in the innermost corner of the carriage. Beneath him was a thin layer of battered advertising cloth he had scavenged, which did little to block the chill rising from the steel floor. He wrapped himself tightly in a coat of indistinguishable color, stiff as cardboard that had been soaked and dried again. His knees pressed against his chest as he tried to minimize the area exposed to the cold. This position let him preserve a tiny bit of his pitiful warmth, but at the cost of a sore, aching pain in his joints, like rusty gears being forced to turn...