Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMCYV76DBKASTBGA4JWFZN

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped off the abandoned Tube platform, her boots echoing in the cavernous space. The air was thick with the musty scent of decay, mingling with a coppery tang that made her nose wrinkle. She glanced at the scattered bones near the tracks - remnants of the station's forgotten past, or perhaps something more sinister. Her partner, a young constable named Oliver, shifted nervously beside her. "This is the Veil Market, right? The place doesn't seem to have any vendors or customers." Quinn frowned as she surveyed the shadowy chamber. "It moves every full moon. This must be a temporary location." Her gaze fell upon a small brass compass lying on the ground, its face etched with strange markings. She picked it up, turning it over in her gloved hand. "Interesting. Looks like a Veil Compass." Oliver blinked. "I've heard about those. They point towards the nearest supernatural rift or portal, right?" "Among other things," Quinn replied absently, studying the verdigris patina on the casing. "The sigils suggest it was crafted by a Shade artisan. We might need this later." She slipped the compass into her pocket. As they ventured deeper into the market, Quinn's sharp eyes caught sight of a crumpled form in the dimness. She approached cautiously, crouching down to examine the body. A young woman, her curly red hair splayed out around her face like a fiery halo. Her glassy green eyes stared into the void, a look of terror frozen on her freckled features. Quinn sighed heavily, the weight of her eighteen years on the force settling upon her shoulders. She had seen too many corpses, but the job never got easier. "What do you think happened here, Detective?" Oliver asked quietly, his voice trembling slightly. Quinn examined the scene with a critical eye, her mind whirring as she took in every detail. The woman's satchel lay nearby, its contents spilled across the floor - books and papers, all bearing the marks of arcane knowledge. There was no obvious sign of injury, no blood or bullet casings. The cause of death was unclear, but something about the scene nagged at her, a discordant note amidst the eerie stillness. "I'm not sure yet," she admitted, rising to her feet. "But we need to find out more about our victim. She seems to be an occult researcher of some kind." As if on cue, a familiar figure emerged from the shadows, her own closely-cropped salt-and-pepper hair glinting in the dim light. Eva Kowalski, historian and fellow occult enthusiast, greeted them with a somber nod. "Detective Quinn. I see you've found poor Evie." Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You knew our victim?" Eva tugged nervously at her hair, tucking it behind her left ear. "Yes, we were childhood friends. I've been helping with the investigation into the Veil Market." "Well then, perhaps you can shed some light on what happened here," Quinn said, gesturing towards the body. "There's no obvious cause of death, and this isn't the usual clientele for a place like this." Eva knelt beside her fallen friend, her eyes welling with tears. "Evie was always pushing boundaries, trying to uncover the truth about the supernatural underworld. I suppose it finally caught up with her." Quinn watched her closely, weighing her words against the evidence before them. She glanced down at the scattered papers, noticing a pattern amid the chaos - a series of intricate sigils that seemed to call out to her, whispering secrets from beyond the veil. "What do you make of these markings?" she asked, pointing towards the symbols. Eva peered at them, her brow furrowing in concentration. "They appear to be protection wards, but they're unlike any I've seen before. It's almost as if they were drawn in haste, without proper care or precision." A thought began to form in Quinn's mind, a thread of an idea that tugged insistently at her consciousness. She turned to Oliver, her voice low and urgent. "What if our victim wasn't the target? What if she was trying to protect someone else, or something?" Oliver looked at her in confusion, but Eva's eyes widened with realization. "The Veil Compass," she whispered, nodding towards Quinn's pocket. "Evie must have been trying to hide it from whatever killed her." Quinn pulled out the compass, studying it once more as the pieces began to fall into place. The strange sigils on its face seemed to shimmer and dance in the dim light, their power calling out to her like a siren's song. She knew then that they were dealing with something far beyond the realm of ordinary crime, something that threatened to tear apart the very fabric of reality itself. She glanced back at the body of her fallen friend, a grim determination settling over her like a shroud. There was no turning back now, not when the stakes were this high. She would find the truth behind Evie's death, and bring those responsible to justice - no matter what it took, or where the trail might lead her. With a final nod to her colleagues, she set off into the darkness, the Veil Compass guiding her steps as she ventured forth into the unknown, ready to face whatever horrors lay ahead.