Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMPCV21D4J5AAAMXAQEQA62

Rain lashed down on the deserted streets of Soho, casting a misty veil over the already murky night. Detective Harlow Quinn's eyes, narrowed against the downpour, locked onto the fleeing figure of Tomás Herrera. His dark curls clung to his forehead as he darted between pedestrians, his olive skin glistening with rain. Quinn's sharp jaw set in determination; she'd been tracking this lead for weeks, and she wasn't about to let it slip away now. "Stop! Police!" Quinn's voice cut through the patter of raindrops, but Tomás didn't flinch. He vanished into the crowd gathering under the awning of a street food stall. Quinn weaved through the onlookers, her worn leather watch glinting on her left wrist as she moved with military precision. She spotted Tomás's Saint Christopher medallion glinting briefly in the neon light of a nearby sign before he plunged into the night, heading toward the distinctive green neon sign of The Raven's Nest. Quinn's eyes never left his back as she tailed him into the dimly lit bar. The air inside reeked of stale beer and old books. Quinn's gaze swept the room, homing in on Tomás as he pushed past patrons and made a beeline for the bookshelf-lined rear wall. Without hesitation, he reached up and slid a section of shelves open, revealing a narrow passageway. Quinn's instincts screamed warning as Tomás slipped into the hidden room. For a moment, Quinn hesitated at the threshold, the sounds of the bar muffled by the thick bookshelves. Her mind replayed the briefing on potential supernatural hideouts in the city. The Veil Market, rumored to operate in the shadows, had been mentioned, but she'd never pinpointed its location. A hunch told her this might be the break she needed – if she dared to follow. She took a deep breath and stepped into the passageway, the shelf sliding shut behind her with a soft creak. The air was heavy with the scent of old dust and something else... incense, perhaps, or smoke. Her eyes adjusted slowly to the dim lighting, revealing a set of steep stairs descending into darkness. The murmur of hushed voices and the faint thrum of a generator drifted up from below. Quinn's hand instinctively went to her hip, only to remember she'd left her firearm locked in her car, anticipating a straightforward interview at The Raven's Nest. A shiver ran down her spine as she began her descent, the stairs creaking beneath her feet. At the bottom, Quinn found herself at the edge of an abandoned Tube station, the platforms and tracks transformed into a labyrinthine market. Lanterns and candles cast flickering shadows on the walls as vendors hawked their wares in hushed tones. The atmosphere reeked of illicit dealings, and Quinn's years of experience told her this was indeed the Veil Market. Tomás Herrera was already lost in the crowd, but Quinn spotted the flash of his medallion near a stall piled high with peculiar artifacts. As she moved to follow, a hand grasped her elbow, spinning her around. "Lost, detective?" A hooded figure loomed over her, voice low and gravelly. Quinn's gaze locked onto the figure's hand, her mind racing. "Just looking for someone." The figure chuckled, producing a small, polished bone from their cloak. "Entry token. You shouldn't be here without one. Now, you can either leave... or pay the price for admission." Quinn's grip on her left wrist tightened, the worn leather of her watch creaking softly. She weighed her options, her eyes darting toward Tomás's last known location. The investigation, the unanswered questions about DS Morris's death, all swirled together in her mind. With a deliberate movement, Quinn reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, unused SIM card. "Information's the currency I deal in. What's the price for letting me pass... and for telling me what's being peddled here tonight?" The hooded figure's gaze flickered, seemingly intrigued by Quinn's boldness. After a moment's deliberation, they nodded, accepting the SIM card. "Very well, Detective Harlow Quinn. Tonight's special: whispers of a new alchemist in town, peddling transmutation serums... and something far more sinister, from the shadows. Your entry's granted, but be warned: in the Veil Market, the lines between hunter and prey are easily blurred." With that, the figure vanished into the crowd, leaving Quinn to navigate the treacherous underworld alone, her eyes fixed on the spot where Tomás Herrera had last been seen. She took a deep breath, stepping into the heart of the market, ready to face whatever lay ahead.