In 720p, every detail is sharp enough to hurt. The grime on the walls isn't just shadow; it's layered, decades thick. The faces of the passengers are gaunt, cheekbones casting harsh lines in the emergency lights. They are packed like livestock, wrapped in rags and desperation. This is the last train in the world, and these are the last unwanted people.
He asks who.
The clank-clank-clank resumes.
Layton refuses. He knows a trap. But she dangles a key—a drawer full of real food. Cigarettes. And a ticket for one other passenger to leave the Tail. He looks at Zarah. He looks at Miles. The camera holds on his face. In 720p, you see the exact microsecond his survival instinct surrenders to something heavier: purpose.
"Mr. Layton," she says, her voice the same honeyed venom from the speakers. "You’re a detective. I need you to come to the front."