Prologue

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Imagine, a world in which you live in, and will always in the end try to kill you. I never really thought of it too much, after all, I always felt safe on the Fat Controller's railway, even when it became a region for British Railways during nationalisation, it still felt safe and away from any harm. But for the past two years, things have changed. My friends, the things I hold dear to what I have on this island... I am now more terrified for them than ever.

Three years ago, an explosion happened north of the island, in a small village called Arlesburgh, two members of our fleet got caught in it. One of them came out fine, a bit shaken up, but other than that seemed to be alright. The other was so badly damaged that he was sent away with another engine who was severely sick herself and both were taken to a faraway place to be repaired, another engine which was considered one of us took them there and we haven't seen or heard any of them since.

But during those three years, other occurrences have happened that have distracted us from our grievances, which makes my fears run wild.

The first was that British Railways lied to us. They said they will only withdraw older steam engines for a bit and see whether they were useful enough to work again whilst new, modern diesels take their place and that'll be it, no other engines will be withdrawn or even scrapped! But then it began, the withdrawals piled up and even though not announced, everyone knew without even admitting it that British Railways had gone back on their word and were now fully genociding steam engines for them to be replaced by diesels in a bid to modernise the railways of Britain. Now all steam engines of all shapes and sizes, old and young were now being taken to the scrap sidings where they'd be drugged and dragged to the scrapyards.

Drugged, that is what leads me to another point. Testing was done on my friend who was 'severely sick', which gave side effects that made her have to go away. That drug, even though declared separate by British Railways and not under their guidance, made it go perfectly into their hands with the drug going public, they had gotten it and said that they used it on engines who have been withdrawn until they would be back in service, but what they didn't say was that the drug was to be used for engines to be drugged by it before being sent to the scrapyards where'd they be cut up swiftly and quietly, not even screams can be heard in those hellish places. It was soon given the name the Haywield drug, after the man who created it, the very same man who gave us the control lever in which we drive freely on our own accord. Never felt so betrayed by a man we all deemed as a man of the engines.

All engines feel like British Railways had ties to Sodor Research, the place that created the drug, but no evidence was shown during the investigation which occurred in 1962. Now British Railways was pumping out diesel engines out of the workshops all across Britain, all now working in place of the steam engines which would be taken to their deaths. 

They even brought a diesel engine here to replace Thomas until he gets back later that year, her name was Daisy, a diesel railcar, she had her fair share of trouble and has proven to be a reliable engine ever since. But Thomas has still not come back yet, neither Peter and Ava, the other two who left with him. It was 1961 when they all left, now it is 1964, and I wonder where they are now.

And I, Edward the Blue Engine, said to be the wisest engine on the railway, has no idea what I should do.

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