Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMME55ZHTQYX6F0WME2QR56

The neon glow of the Raven’s Nest flickered like a dying ember, casting jagged shadows across the damp pavement. Detective Harlow Quinn’s boots splashed through puddles as she sprinted down the slicked sidewalk, her breath coming in sharp, controlled bursts. The rain had turned the city into a slick, reflective mirror, and the air smelled of wet stone and something older—something metallic, like old blood. She’d been tracking Tomás Herrera for hours. Or at least, she’d been tracking *something* Tomás Herrera had been tracking. A lead that had led her to a place where the rules of the world seemed to bend. And now, here she was, chasing a man through the neon haze of Soho, the scent of whiskey and something darker clinging to the air. Her watch, the worn leather thing she’d gotten from her father, ticked steadily against her wrist. *Three more minutes.* That’s how long she had before the suspect—before *whatever* Tomás was running from—disappeared into the Underground. She skidded to a halt outside the Raven’s Nest, the green neon sign above the door pulsing like a warning. The place was packed, the kind of place where the patrons didn’t look up as they sipped their drinks, where the laughter was low and the air thick with secrets. But it wasn’t the bar itself that had her stomach twisting. It was the way Tomás had mentioned it earlier, how he’d said he’d seen something *interesting* in the back room. And now, here she was, standing on the threshold of a place that shouldn’t exist. A man in a wet trench coat stepped into her path, blocking her view of the door. His face was shadowed, but she could see the way his fingers twitched at his sides, as if he were already counting the ways she could be wrong. “You’re not supposed to be here,” he said, his voice rough. “This ain’t for the likes of you.” Harlow didn’t flinch. She’d spent eighteen years in this city, learning to read people like they were maps. “I’m here because I’m following a lead,” she said, keeping her voice steady. “And if you’re going to stop me, you’re going to have to do better than that.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not from around here.” “No,” she admitted. “But I know how to find what I’m looking for.” She didn’t wait for him to respond. She turned and pushed past him, the door to the Raven’s Nest groaning open behind her. The interior was a maze of low tables and flickering lights, the kind of place where the patrons moved like shadows, their faces half-lit by the glow of the bar’s single, dim bulb. The air was thick with the scent of aged whiskey and something else—something that made her stomach clench. She didn’t stop to ask where Tomás was. She didn’t even think about the risks. She just moved forward, her boots kicking up a spray of rainwater as she cut through the crowd. Then she saw it. A back room, hidden behind a bookshelf, the door slightly ajar. The kind of place where people met in secret. Where things got interesting. She pushed the door open, the hinges squeaking like a warning. Inside, the room was smaller than she expected, the walls lined with shelves of old maps and strange, leather-bound books. But it wasn’t the books that caught her attention. It was the man sitting in the corner, his back to her, his fingers tracing the edge of a ledger. Tomás. His head snapped up as she stepped inside, his dark eyes locking onto hers. He didn’t look surprised. He looked *relieved*. “You’re here,” he said, his voice low. “I was afraid you’d give up.” Harlow didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. The way he was looking at her, the way his hands trembled just a little, told her everything she needed to know. “What’s going on here?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the silence. Tomás exhaled sharply, his scar along his left forearm catching the dim light. “You don’t know what you’re walking into.” “Then tell me,” she said, stepping closer. “Because I’m not leaving until I do.” The man in the trench coat outside the door let out a low whistle. “You’re in over your head, Quinn.” Harlow didn’t look back. She already knew that. But she also knew that sometimes, the only way to find the truth was to walk right into the fire. And right now, she was walking into something far worse.