I will explain how exactly do people get there, what live there and what it is.
I have this crazy idea about what if I create a zone between Death and Live in my fantasy world like what we saw in TBHK? Like the area that full of waters???I even make a codex based off it-
Time to lock tf in and start fixing my draft writing I guess :
Hidden at the farthest edge of the station, just past the bustling platforms, Platform 12A—or, as the locals whisper, Platform 13—is a liminal space that exists somewhere between the mundane and the supernatural. On paper, it is just another platform, but to those who truly look, it is a threshold between realms, where mortals and the denizens of the underworld share the same waiting space.
Despite looking nearly identical to the other platforms—wooden benches, rusted lampposts, and the occasional vending machine—the air shifts the moment you step in. The warm, golden lights flicker just slightly, casting shadows that seem to stretch a little too long before snapping back in place. The atmosphere is unexplainably cold, as if winter permanently lingers here, no matter the season. Breath fogs in the air, goosebumps prickle along exposed skin, and the faint scent of incense and aged parchment drifts through the station.
A large, antique clock looms above the platform, its hands occasionally twitching backward before correcting themselves. Unlike the modern, electric displays of the main station, the departure board here is an old-fashioned split-flap display, clattering rhythmically as it lists destinations to places few humans have ever heard of. Names in lost languages flicker for brief seconds before vanishing again, unreadable to most.
The train schedules are unpredictable—there is no fixed time for departures, yet the train is never late.
The Train Conductor is an unsettling yet oddly comforting presence—a towering, robed figure with a skeletal face hidden beneath a tattered hood. Their cloak moves like mist, shifting and unraveling at the edges, as if they are not entirely bound by physical form.
Despite their eerie appearance, they are one of the friendliest entities on the platform. They do not speak in whispers or ominous riddles, but rather in a calm, professional voice, greeting passengers with the same patience as any regular station worker. For human passengers who freeze in terror at their presence, they reach into their cloak and hand out small, colorful candies—usually meant for lost spirit children but now repurposed to calm anxious mortals.
"No need to panic, kid. Take the candy. It's peach-flavored."
Sometimes, they even hum old lullabies under their breath while checking tickets.
(I took their appearance inspired by Death Eaters from Harry Potter, did you notice?)
A Ticket Booth That Wasn’t Always There: Unlike the other booths manned by humans, the ticket booth for Platform 12A seems to appear and disappear, depending on who is looking for it. An unseen entity mans the counter, exchanging tickets for unusual fares—sometimes a lock of hair, a secret, or a memory. Money is not accepted here.
Passengers Who Aren’t Always Alive: On normal days, the number of human passengers is few, but wandering spirits, youkai, demons, and even higher deities casually wait for their train, mingling like it’s an ordinary part of daily life. Some read newspapers, others sip from steaming cups of strange teas, and a few exchange gossip about the latest happenings in the mortal realm.
Benches That Carry Echoes of the Past: Sitting on the benches for too long causes strange whispers to brush against the ears, echoes of conversations from past passengers—some from centuries ago. If one listens too carefully, they might hear their own voice from a future journey yet to come.
Mirrors That Reflect More Than Yourself: There are old, dusty mirrors standing against the platform’s columns. The reflection usually seems normal—until a person turns away. Their reflection lingers just a second too long, watching, as if debating whether to follow.
The Ghostly Newspaper Stand: There is a small newspaper stand that sells publications not found anywhere else. The headlines range from mundane mortal news to otherworldly affairs—“Demon Lord Retires, New Succession War Begins,” or “River Styx Floods Again, Spirit Boats Delayed.” Some of the newspapers seem written in shifting languages that only the intended reader can understand.
The train itself is a contradiction—an old-fashioned steam locomotive, but with sleek, modern interiors that seem far too advanced for mortal craftsmanship. It is completely silent when it arrives, no screeching of brakes, no rush of displaced air—just an eerie stillness before the doors open.
The first few cars are for mortal passengers, decorated like an elegant Oriental Express, complete with warm lighting, velvet seats, and soft jazz music playing from an unseen radio. (Take inspiration from the Astral Express from HSR)
The middle cars shift in design depending on the needs of the supernatural passengers—some filled with dense fog, others with floating, upside-down furniture, or even pocket dimensions leading to entirely different landscapes.
The last car is permanently locked. Nobody knows what’s inside. Not even the Conductor.
Once the train departs, it vanishes the moment it leaves the station, disappearing into mist—only to reappear at its next destination, wherever that may be.
Platform 12A is a space that defies logic yet follows its own set of unspoken rules. It is welcoming, yet unsettling—a place where time doesn’t flow as expected, where passengers from different realms coexist, and where even the most terrifying figures might hand you a piece of candy just to ease your nerves.
For most, it is a place of mystery.