Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMCTFVMAD19T5WZQ669BES

Detective Harlow Quinn crouched beside the body, her worn leather watch catching the dim light as she checked the time. Three seventeen AM. The abandoned Tube station's emergency lighting cast sickly shadows across the victim's face, making the already peculiar scene even more unsettling. "Cause of death appears straightforward enough," Detective Sanders said from behind her. "Blunt force trauma to the head. Probably a mugging gone wrong." Quinn's jaw tightened. Nothing about this was straightforward. The victim lay spread-eagled on the platform, wearing expensive clothes that hadn't been touched. His wallet remained in his back pocket, gold watch still on his wrist. And then there was the matter of location – this station had been sealed off for decades. "How did he get in here?" she muttered, more to herself than Sanders. "Probably followed the usual urban explorer route. These urban decay enthusiasts, they always find a way in." But Quinn had already checked every entrance. All sealed tight, no signs of forced entry. She stood, her movements precise as she paced the platform's edge. The victim's phone lay shattered near the tracks, its screen spider-webbed but still periodically flickering with a pale blue light. A flash of brass caught her eye. Near the victim's outstretched hand lay a small compass, its casing marked with strange circular etchings she'd never seen before. As she reached for it, a familiar voice called out from the station entrance. "Detective Quinn? Sorry I'm late – I came as soon as I got your message." Eva Kowalski hurried down the station steps, her curly red hair bouncing with each movement. Her round glasses had slipped slightly down her nose, and she absently pushed them back up as she approached. The young woman's worn leather satchel, perpetually stuffed with books, thumped against her hip. "Ms. Kowalski," Quinn acknowledged. "Thank you for coming. I need your expertise on something." She'd been working with the British Museum researcher on several unusual cases lately, though she'd never admit to her colleagues why. Eva's knowledge of obscure historical artifacts had proved invaluable, even if Quinn remained skeptical about some of her more... esoteric theories. "Please, call me Eva." She tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear, a nervous gesture Quinn had noticed before. Her green eyes widened as she took in the scene. "Oh. This is... different." Sanders shot Quinn a questioning look. "Since when do we bring civilians to active crime scenes?" "Ms. Kowalski is a consultant," Quinn said firmly. "Would you give us a moment?" Once Sanders had stepped away, Quinn held up the compass. "Ever seen anything like this?" Eva's freckled face paled slightly. "May I?" she asked, carefully taking the compass. Her fingers traced the elaborate markings on its surface. "Where exactly did you find this?" "On the victim. Care to tell me what we're looking at?" "It's..." Eva hesitated, glancing at Sanders. "It's not something you'd find in any ordinary shop, let's put it that way. These markings? They're protective sigils. And this patina isn't just age – it's intentional. This is a very specific type of compass, Detective. One that points to things that... shouldn't exist." Quinn felt a familiar chill run down her spine, the same one she'd experienced three years ago when her partner disappeared. "Like what?" "Like doors that aren't there. Places that move. Markets that only open on the full moon." Eva's voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Detective, this man wasn't killed here. At least, not in the here you're thinking of." Quinn studied the young researcher's face. In the eighteen months they'd worked together, she'd learned to trust Eva's instincts, even when they ventured into territory that challenged Quinn's rational mindset. "You're saying he was killed somewhere else and moved here?" "Not exactly." Eva rifled through her satchel, pulling out a small leather-bound notebook. "This station? It's not just abandoned. It's a gateway. Once a month, it becomes something else entirely. The Veil Market." "The what?" "A traveling black market for..." Eva glanced around again. "...specialized goods. You need a token to enter – usually made of bone. Without one, you'd never find it. But this compass? It's like a skeleton key. It can lead you there, ready or not." Quinn stood perfectly still, processing this information. It wasn't the first time she'd encountered something that defied explanation, but it was the first time someone had offered her a framework to understand it. She thought of her partner, of the strange circumstances surrounding his disappearance in that warehouse three years ago. The impossible angle of the shadows. The whispers they'd heard. "The victim's phone," Quinn said slowly. "It keeps flickering with this blue light, even though it's broken. That's not normal, is it?" Eva shook her head. "Residual energy. It happens to electronics that cross between... let's call them different versions of reality." Quinn's sharp jaw set with determination. "I need you to tell me everything you know about this Veil Market. And I mean everything." She checked her watch again. "How long until the next full moon?" "Three days," Eva said, tucking another strand of hair behind her ear. "But Detective, you can't just walk in there. It's dangerous. The people – the things – that run it..." "Three years ago, I lost my partner to something I couldn't explain," Quinn cut her off. "Now I'm standing in an abandoned Tube station with a dead body, a compass that points to impossible things, and finally, someone who can tell me what's really going on. I'm not walking away from this." Eva's green eyes met Quinn's brown ones. "No," she said quietly. "I suppose you're not." She glanced down at the compass in her hands, its needle spinning wildly. "But if we're going to do this, we need to be prepared. The Market... it has rules. Break them, and we'll end up like him." She nodded toward the body. Quinn straightened her jacket with military precision. "Then we'll learn the rules. But first, we need to get this body to the morgue without Sanders asking too many questions. I have a feeling our victim's autopsy is going to turn up some interesting results." The emergency lights flickered overhead, and for just a moment, Quinn could have sworn she saw something move in the shadows at the far end of the platform. Something that shouldn't be there at all.