Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPB9ZKNRTNQW58B9B267GS

Detective Harlow Quinn's shoes echoed in the dim, damp corridors of the abandoned Tube station beneath Camden. The air was thick with the scent of earth and decay, a stark contrast to the crisp, sterile uniformity of the city above. Her worn leather watch ticked steadily against her wrist, a constant reminder of time's relentless march. She moved with military precision, every step calculated, every glance observational. Eva Kowalski, her colleague and an occult researcher, stayed a step behind. Eva's curly red hair was tucked behind her glasses, her freckled complexion pale with nerves. A worn leather satchel, stuffed with books and notes, hung heavily from her shoulder. She glanced around the eerie environment, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "Sure this is the right place, Quinn?" Eva asked, her voice a whisper in the shadowy confines of the station. Harlow paused, her sharp jaw tightening. "This is the Veil Market, Eva. The crime scene reports match the description exactly. But something's off." She flicked on her flashlight, the beam cutting through the darkness and illuminating the decayed tiles and rust-streaked metal of the abandoned station. They approached the central platform, where a makeshift market had once bustled. Now, it was a scene of chaos and abandonment. Tables and stalls were overturned, goods scattered across the floor. Amidst the debris, a body lay sprawled, a young man with a look of terror frozen on his face. Harlow crouched beside him, her gloved hands moving methodically over the body. "He's been dead for hours," she murmured, her eyes scanning the area. "No signs of a struggle, no obvious wounds. But look at this." She pointed to a small, circular burn mark on the man's chest, the skin around it blackened and charred. "Not a natural cause of death, that's for sure." Eva knelt beside her, her satchel thudding to the ground. "That looks like it could be from a spell, or maybe an ensorcelled weapon. The burn is too precise to be an ordinary fire." Harlow nodded, her eyes narrowing. "Exactly. And there's more." She gestured to the floor surrounding the body. "See those marks? They're not just random gouges. They're sigils, part of a protective ward. Someone was trying to keep something out—or in." Eva's eyes widened as she leaned in closer. "I recognize a few of these. They're from an old protection ritual, but it's incomplete. It looks like someone tried to cast it, but it failed." "Failed, or was it interrupted?" Harlow stood up, her gaze scanning the room. "This place is a maze. Someone could have been watching, interfering." As if on cue, a shadow moved at the edge of the flashlight beam. Harlow's hand instinctively went to her hip, but she hesitated, her brow furrowing. "Who's there?" A figure emerged from the darkness, a slight woman with closely cropped salt-and-pepper hair. She wore a worn coat and carried a small brass compass in her hand. Her eyes, a piercing brown, met Harlow's with a mix of defiance and recognition. "Detective Quinn, I presume?" the woman said, her voice steady. "I'm Dr. Sophia Rivers. I work for the Department of Arcane Affairs. This is my jurisdiction." Harlow straightened, her eyes narrowing. "Department of Arcane Affairs? I wasn't informed about your involvement." Dr. Rivers approached, the brass compass in her hand glinting in the flashlight's beam. "It's a sensitive matter, Detective. The Veil Market is a hotbed of supernatural activity. We've been monitoring it closely, and it seems that someone is using it for more than just illicit trade." Harlow's mouth thinned into a line. "And you think this man's death is connected?" "Given the nature of his injuries and the presence of the incomplete ward, yes," Dr. Rivers replied. "That burn mark is the result of a powerful spell, one that required a significant amount of energy. Someone or something very dangerous is at play here." Eva, who had been listening intently, spoke up. "The sigils on the ground are part of an ancient binding spell. If it was interrupted, the thing they were trying to bind could still be here." Harlow's gaze shifted to a dark corner of the station. "Show me." Dr. Rivers led them to a recessed alcove, where the walls were covered in layers of ancient graffiti and more sigils. In the center, a small, circular indentation in the ground caught Harlow's eye. She crouched, examining it closely. "This is where the ritual took place. The indentation is a focusing point for the spell," she said, her voice low. "But it's empty now. The object or entity they were trying to bind is gone." Eva's face paled. "If the spell was interrupted, whatever they were trying to bind could be out there, somewhere in the market." Harlow stood, her mind racing. "We need to find out what they were trying to bind and why. If it's dangerous, we need to stop it before it causes more harm." Dr. Rivers nodded, her expression grim. "I agree. The Department has resources that might help. We can start by interrogating the market's regulars. They might know more about what happened here tonight." As they began to move through the market, the air grew colder, and a faint, almost imperceptible whisper seemed to follow them. Harlow's watch ticked louder, a constant, urgent reminder of the stakes. She glanced back at Eva and Dr. Rivers, her resolve firm. "Let's find out what we're dealing with," she said, her voice steady and determined. "And make sure it doesn't happen again." The three women moved deeper into the market, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating the shadows and revealing the hidden truths that lay within.