With a grunt they come to a stop at some sort of solid surface imbedded into the hill. Hydra groans and lays flat on their back, looking up at the overcast sky. His vision needs a moment to catch up and recalibrate back into one point of focus.
What a fucking great birthday this has been turning out to be, eh?
Slowly, Hydra sits up and rubs at their aching joints. Their neck needs to be looked at and he is in need of a good shower when he gets back to his shed. Probably a good dusting of his current gear. That would be a good way to end today. Getting a nice warm bath and snuggling up into bed with some comfortable clothes…
That trail of thought ends as he finishes turning around to stare at the object jutting out of the face of the hill.
A distorted face stares back at him. Eaten away synthetic skin and broken eyes revealing a faceless train.
“WOAH- ACK!” Hydra begins to scream but tumbles backwards on their butt. They fall over onto their back with a surprised ‘oof!’
They quickly find their bearings and scramble away from the scrapped train. His breathing hitches as he stares from a safe distance.
A faceless train with corroded and dirty armor and exposed inner workings sits calmly with much of their chest and legs embedded into the dirt. Its jaw is missing a screw and wide open. Sharp triangle locomotive teeth in need of a good shine and sharpening. Hair mattered and chewed up by local pests. Grass, vines, and other plant life twisting atop of what remained of their clothes and armor.
Hydra looks down at the train’s legs and notices more pieces of the train half-buried in the earth. Wires, bolts, nuts, steel, iron, chunks, cloth…
Tentatively, the hydrogen tanker crawls towards the rusted helmet. He wipes away at some grime and dirt to reveal the train’s numbers: 2-6-4
A shaky breath escapes him. Steam locomotive wheels in his head churn like gears in his head.
He brushes more dirt and crust off of the helmet. It’s burnt here and there with rusting but it’s a clear replica of a steam locomotive.
Now he sits on his knees and holds the helmet in disbelief. Hydra’s eyes drift back towards the decaying train. A racer. A steam locomotive.
[From the fan writing 'Another Believer' by AlmondCakeFrosting. Only viewable with an AO3 account.]