Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT00CYAHKE2AFFWZJ5RC65E

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped off the creaking staircase, her worn leather watch catching the dim light. The abandoned Tube station beneath Camden was as eerie as ever, but tonight, it was more than just a relic of a forgotten time. Tonight, it was a crime scene. The body lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, a young woman with curly red hair and round glasses. Eva Kowalski, according to the ID badge hanging from her worn leather satchel. Quinn had seen her around, a friend of Aurora's, the girl who'd gone missing a week ago. She tucked her salt-and-pepper hair behind her ear, a habit she'd picked up since Morris's death, and crouched down for a closer look. "Strangled," Dr. Amelia Hart, the pathologist, said, her voice echoing in the cavernous space. "Look at the ligature marks on her neck. She put up a fight, but it was quick." Quinn nodded, her sharp jaw set. Something was off. Eva's glasses were intact, her satchel still full of books. No signs of a struggle, except for the marks on her neck. And why was she here, in an abandoned station, on a night when the full moon would have the Veil Market in full swing? "Amelia," Quinn said, "have you seen the rest of the scene?" The pathologist looked up, her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" Quinn stood, her military precision evident in her movements. She gestured to the station, empty except for Eva's body. "No sign of forced entry. No other footprints. Just Eva, here, with no signs of a struggle, except for the marks on her neck." Amelia looked around, her eyes widening as she took in the scene. "You think...?" "I think we're missing something," Quinn said, her brown eyes scanning the area. She pulled out her Veil Compass, the small brass compass with its face etched with protective sigils. The needle spun wildly, then pointed towards the tunnel leading to the Market. "And I think we're not alone." She pocketed the compass and turned to her colleague. "Amelia, I need you to keep this quiet. No official report yet. I'll call in a team, but for now, let's keep this between us." Amelia nodded, her eyes serious. "Understood, Detective." Quinn stepped away, her boots echoing on the stone floor. She pulled out her phone, dialing her team. "I need you to meet me at the old Camden station," she said, her voice low. "Bring the supernatural kit. We've got a situation." She hung up and turned back to Eva's body. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She crouched down again, her eyes scanning the body, the floor, the walls. Then she saw it. A small, almost imperceptible mark on Eva's wrist. A sigil, glowing faintly in the dim light. Quinn leaned in closer, her heart pounding. She recognized the sigil. It was the same one she'd found on Morris's body, three years ago. The one she'd been unable to explain, the one that had led her down this rabbit hole of supernatural crime. She stood up, her mind racing. If Eva was involved with the Market, if she was involved with the supernatural, then Aurora was too. And if Aurora was involved, then the clique was involved. She was sure of it. She turned to Amelia, her eyes determined. "We need to find out what Eva was doing here. And we need to find Aurora." Amelia nodded, her eyes reflecting Quinn's determination. "I'll start the autopsy. Maybe we'll find something there." Quinn nodded, her mind already racing ahead. She stepped towards the tunnel, her hand resting on the Veil Compass in her pocket. She could feel it, the pull of the supernatural, the promise of answers. She took a deep breath and stepped into the darkness, her military precision guiding her every step. The tunnel was dark, the air damp and heavy with the scent of earth and something else. Something faint, something familiar. Quinn's hand tightened on the compass, the needle pointing straight ahead. She could hear the murmur of voices, the clink of glasses. The Market was close. She stepped out of the tunnel, her eyes widening at the sight before her. The abandoned station had been transformed. Stalls lined the walls, selling everything from enchanted trinkets to banned alchemical substances. People in cloaks and hoods milled about, their faces obscured. It was a supernatural black market, a hidden world beneath the city. Quinn moved through the crowd, her eyes scanning the stalls. She could feel the pull of the supernatural, the energy of the Market. She could feel it in the air, in the hum of the crowd, in the glow of the sigils etched into the walls. She stopped at a stall selling Veil Compasses, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the seller. A Shade artisan, one of the few supernatural beings who could cross the veil between worlds. She'd interrogated him before, after Morris's death. He'd been uncooperative then, but maybe tonight would be different. "Quinn," he said, his voice a low growl. "Back so soon?" "Eva Kowalski is dead," she said, her voice flat. "I think you know something about it." The Shade's eyes widened, just a fraction. "Eva? Dead?" Quinn nodded, her eyes steady. "Strangled. In the tunnel. I found this on her wrist." She held up her phone, a picture of the sigil glowing faintly. The Shade looked at the picture, his face impassive. "It's a summoning sigil," he said. "Used to call a creature from the other side." Quinn's heart pounded. "What kind of creature?" The Shade shrugged. "Could be anything. Depends on the sigil, the intent, the sacrifice." Quinn's blood ran cold. Sacrifice. Eva had been the sacrifice. But why? And who had summoned the creature? She turned away from the stall, her mind racing. She needed to find Aurora. She needed to find out what she knew. She needed to stop this, before it was too late. She moved through the crowd, her eyes scanning the faces. She could feel the pull of the supernatural, the energy of the Market. She could feel it in the air, in the hum of the crowd, in the glow of the sigils etched into the walls. She stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she saw a familiar face. Aurora, standing at a stall, her back to Quinn. She was talking to someone, a figure in a cloak, their face obscured. Quinn could see the tension in Aurora's shoulders, the way she was leaning in, her voice low. Quinn stepped closer, her heart pounding. She could hear the murmur of their voices, the clink of glasses. She could feel the pull of the supernatural, the energy of the Market. She could feel it in the air, in the hum of the crowd, in the glow of the sigils etched into the walls. She was close enough to hear now, close enough to see the figure's face. It was a woman, her eyes cold, her lips curved in a cruel smile. She was holding a Veil Compass, the needle pointing at Aurora. Quinn's heart pounded. She recognized the woman. She was a member of the clique, the group of wealthy socialites who'd been under her scrutiny for years. She was the one who'd been pulling the strings, the one who'd been using the supernatural for her own gain. Quinn stepped forward, her hand reaching for her gun. But before she could move, the woman turned, her eyes meeting Quinn's. She smiled, a slow, cruel smile. Then she raised her hand, a sigil glowing on her palm. Quinn felt a jolt of energy, a wave of darkness. She stumbled back, her vision swimming. She could hear the murmur of voices, the clink of glasses. She could feel the pull of the supernatural, the energy of the Market. She could feel it in the air, in the hum of the crowd, in the glow of the sigils etched into the walls. And then, everything went black.