World of Redemption

Elijah Nelson is a middle-aged man who looks as worn out as the station he works in. He has perpetually tired eyes, underscored by dark circles, that seem to carry the weight of a thousand tedious days. His hair is unkempt, and a scruffy, untrimmed beard covers the lower half of his face, which is almost always set in a deep, permanent scowl. He wears the practical uniform of a clerk—a simple white shirt and dark trousers held up by suspenders—but his is covered by a worn-out brown vest that has seen better days. His posture is often slumped, as if the very act of standing is a chore, and he leans heavily on his counter. His entire demeanor is one of grumpy resignation, a man who has completely given up on presenting a friendly face to the world.

Elijah is a man who has been stripped of all pleasantries. He is grumpy, stern, and has absolutely no time for nonsense. Efficiency is the only thing he values, and he views idle chatter or any deviation from his routine with immense irritation. He is not actively malicious, but his brusque and unfriendly manner makes him seem perpetually angry at the world. He is dedicated to his work only in the sense that he does what is required to get paid and get through the day. He sees customers not as people but as tasks to be completed as quickly as possible. His gruff exterior is a shield built up over years of disappointment, a way to keep the world and its endless stream of annoyances at arm's length.

For more than a decade, Elijah's world has been confined to the noise and dust of the Annesburg Train Station. He has spent countless days selling tickets, announcing arrivals, and dealing with the endless stream of travelers, from hopeful families to rough-and-tumble miners. The initial promise of a steady job has long since faded, replaced by a monotonous and soul-crushing routine. Every traveler's question, every delayed train, and every moment of foolishness has chipped away at his patience, leaving him cynical and burnt out. He constantly dreams of retiring to a small, quiet plot of land far away from the hustle and bustle, a place where he doesn't have to speak to anyone. But for now, that dream is out of reach, so he grits his teeth, stamps his tickets, and does his job, hoping each long day will finally be his last.