Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMSRW1Y1N7NSW1SX4ZFQ0Z

The stairwell descended deeper than any authorized Underground station should. Detective Harlow Quinn counted each step as she followed the uniform down, her leather-soled shoes clicking against concrete worn smooth by what seemed like decades of foot traffic. Eighty-seven steps. Far too many. "How exactly was this place discovered?" she asked, her breath visible in the increasingly cold air. "Rail maintenance crew," the uniform replied without turning. "Following up on reports of unusual power fluctuations. Found the entrance behind a false wall." Quinn nodded, though no one could see it. Her hand brushed unconsciously against her hip where her service weapon rested. Three years ago, she might have called this routine—unusual, certainly, but still within the comfortable boundaries of metropolitan police work. But that was before Morris disappeared into thin air during that warehouse raid in Hackney. Before she started seeing the patterns no one else seemed to notice. They reached a landing that opened into what had once been a Tube platform. The space stretched out before her, cavernous and eerily intact despite being absent from any official Transport for London maps. Arc lights had been set up, casting harsh shadows across a scene that made Quinn's jaw clench. "Detective Quinn. Wasn't sure they'd send you." The forensic technician glanced up from where he knelt beside what appeared to be a market stall—one of dozens arranged in neat rows throughout the platform. "Kowalski called it in specifically for me," Quinn replied, scanning the platform. The stalls were empty now, but clearly designed to display wares. Some had glass cases, others hooks for hanging merchandise. "Where is she?" "Far end. By the oddities section, she called it." The tech's tone suggested skepticism. Quinn made her way through the abandoned market, noting the layout with professional precision. This wasn't some impromptu homeless encampment or teen hangout. The stalls were well-constructed, the walkways between them evenly spaced. Electrical wiring ran along the ceiling, connecting to fixtures above each stall. Someone had invested considerable time and resources into this place. She found Eva Kowalski crouched beside a fallen display case, her curly red hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. The young woman's green eyes widened as she spotted Quinn approaching. "You came," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You said it was important." Quinn knelt beside her, examining the broken glass. "When did you get clearance to consult on crime scenes?" Eva tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear, a nervous gesture Quinn had noticed during their previous encounters. "I didn't, exactly. I was called in to identify some artifacts from the museum's collection. But then I saw..." She gestured around them. "This isn't just some abandoned station someone repurposed. This is the Veil Market." Quinn kept her expression neutral. "The what?" "The Veil Market. It's...well, it's supposed to be a myth. An underground black market for..." Eva lowered her voice, "...supernatural items." Three years ago, Quinn would have requested a different consultant. Now, she simply asked, "What makes you so sure?" Eva opened her worn leather satchel, pulling out a small notebook. "The layout matches accounts from the 1850s, when occultist Thomas Blackwood claimed to have visited it. The organization of stalls by type of merchandise—charms, potions, artifacts, information. And then there's this." She pointed to an inscription carved into the stone floor near the broken display case. Quinn leaned closer, brushing away dust to reveal a series of symbols she didn't recognize. "What does it mean?" "It's a protection ward. To prevent tracking by conventional methods." Eva pushed her round glasses up her freckled nose. "Someone broke through it deliberately." Quinn stood, surveying the scene with new eyes. "You're saying what happened here wasn't just a break-in." "It was an invasion," Eva confirmed. "Someone wanted something specific." Quinn's attention shifted to the display case itself. Unlike the others, which were constructed of wood and glass, this one was made entirely of brass, now dented and forced open. "What was in here?" Eva hesitated. "According to inventory markings, a Veil Compass." "Which is?" "A navigation tool. It points toward places where the barrier between worlds is thin." Eva's voice dropped further. "Detective, whoever took it knows what they're doing. The Veil Market moves locations every full moon—that's tonight. This wasn't random. Someone's tracking something that shouldn't be tracked." Quinn straightened up, her watch catching the light as she checked the time. Four hours until sundown. "Show me what else you've found." They spent the next hour examining the market stalls. Quinn noticed Eva moved with surprising familiarity through the space, identifying the purpose of different sections with confidence that suggested more than academic knowledge. "You've been here before," Quinn said finally, not a question but an observation. Eva's cheeks flushed. "For research purposes only. I've never purchased anything." "But you know how to gain entry." Quinn touched the strange symbol carved into a post that marked the market's entrance. "What did you call it? A bone token?" Eva's eyes widened. "How did you—" "You mentioned it when describing the security measures," Quinn lied smoothly. In truth, she'd reviewed the files Eva had provided for previous cases—files that mentioned the token requirement in margin notes the young researcher probably hadn't intended to share. "Detective Quinn!" A voice called from across the platform. One of the forensic techs waved her over. "Stay here," Quinn instructed Eva before making her way to where the tech stood beside what appeared to be an office area. "We found something unusual," the tech said, leading her behind a heavy curtain. "Initial assessment suggested this was just administrative space for the market operators, but we found this." A large map of London covered one wall, with colored pins stuck in various locations. Red strings connected some pins to others, creating a web across the city. Quinn recognized many of the locations—sites of unexplained incidents over the past five years. The incidents her superiors had insisted were unrelated. "There's more," the tech said, pointing to a desk drawer they'd forced open. Inside lay a file labeled with a single name: DS Morris. Quinn's blood went cold. "Did you read it?" "Just enough to see it was police personnel information. Thought you should handle it." Quinn nodded, dismissing the tech before opening the file. Inside were surveillance photos of her former partner, dated weeks before his disappearance. Notes in a spidery hand detailed his movements, his habits, his investigation into a series of disappearances in East London. The final page held a single notation: "Too close to the Threshold. Removal authorized." She closed the file, tucking it inside her jacket. When she emerged from behind the curtain, she found the lead forensic technician arguing with Eva. "—absolutely not possible," the technician was saying. "The blood patterns clearly indicate the victim was standing here when attacked." "Then how do you explain the lack of gravitational droplets?" Eva challenged, pointing to the floor. "Blood spatter doesn't behave that way." Quinn approached, studying the scene. The technician had mapped out blood spray consistent with a slashing attack, but Eva was right—the pattern was wrong. There were no droplets falling vertically, as there should have been. "What's your explanation, Ms. Kowalski?" Quinn asked. Eva glanced nervously around before answering. "The attack didn't happen here. Or rather, it didn't happen in this physical space." She pointed to a residue Quinn hadn't noticed before—a silvery substance that formed a perfect circle on the floor. "The victim was pulled across the Veil while standing in this circle, attacked there, and then the evidence was pushed back through." The technician scoffed. "That's preposterous." Quinn knelt, examining the silvery residue. It reminded her of the strange substance they'd found on Morris's abandoned badge. The substance their lab had been unable to identify. "Run a full spectral analysis on this residue," Quinn ordered the technician. "And compare it to the unknown substance from case file MH-7319." "The Morris disappearance?" The technician looked confused. "But that was three years ago. How could they possibly be related?" Quinn straightened, her gaze meeting Eva's. The younger woman's expression confirmed what Quinn was beginning to suspect—that the thread connecting these cases went deeper than conventional investigation could reveal. "Test it anyway," Quinn said firmly. "And clear everyone out. I want to examine the scene without contamination." Once they were alone, Quinn turned to Eva. "You know more than you're telling me." Eva clutched her satchel tighter. "It's complicated." "My partner vanished into thin air three years ago," Quinn said, her voice hard. "His case file is in a secret office in an impossible market under London. I think I deserve some straight answers." Eva took a deep breath. "The Veil Market isn't just a black market. It's a meeting point—a place where those who know about the other realms can trade goods, information, services. Whoever stole the Veil Compass is looking for a way through the Threshold." "And what exactly is beyond this Threshold?" "I don't know exactly," Eva admitted. "But based on the artifacts I've cataloged at the museum... nothing human." Quinn's watch ticked loudly in the silence that followed. She thought of Morris, of his last words to her over the radio: "Quinn, something's wrong here. The shadows are moving." She had dismissed it then. She wouldn't make the same mistake again. "The full moon is in three hours," Quinn said finally. "If what you're saying is true, this market will relocate. We need to find that compass before then." Eva's eyes widened with surprise, then determination. "I know someone who might be able to help. But we'd be operating outside official channels." Quinn touched the file hidden inside her jacket. "I think we left official channels the moment we stepped into this place." Her sharp jaw set in a determined line. "Let's go."