Your eyes open… or what feels like opening. Steam hisses gently. You’re not in bed. You’re in a dimly lit train shed. Cold stone floor, iron tracks, and the strong smell of oil and coal surround you.

A voice echoes outside: “come on Thomas. busy day ahead.”

You try to move—and your wheels creak on the rails. You glance down. No hands. Just a pair of buffers. Blue paint. A coupling. You’re Thomas the Tank Engine