Run: 2026-02-16-01KHK9Y3RVT62M9MR2DZTQFRDC

Rain smeared the city lights into trembling ribbons as Detective Maris Crowe reached the cordoned alley, coat dripping with rainwater. Uniformed officers clustered near the dumpster, trading hushed theories, but conversation thinned when they noticed Maris approaching through the downpour. The alley smelled of rot and metal, a sour cocktail swirling beneath siren wails and the distant grind of traffic. Beneath the yellow tarp lay the body, outlined by fallen trash and glass, like the alley itself rejected him tonight. Maris crouched beside the tarp, water seeping into her boots, and lifted the edge, bracing for another ordinary nightmare unfolding. The victim's face stared upward, eyes filmed with rain, expression peaceful except for the dark crescent carved across his throat. Silver glinted against his palm, a small chess knight clenched so tightly the edges had punctured skin despite the rigor. Maris exchanged a glance with Sergeant Hale, whose jaw flexed once, betraying recognition before his features settled into professional blankness. We had a message last week, anonymous, about a game beginning, Hale muttered, and nobody listened because nothing happened then. Raindrops gathered in the dead man's hollowed ear, ticking like seconds, while somewhere unseen the first move waited, smiling patiently.