Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT09BDDKWH0F332D2B8VX42

Harlow Quinn stood at the edge of the abandoned Tube station, her leather watch catching the dim light filtering through the boarded-up entrance. The Veil Market was supposed to be empty tonight, but the bone token in her pocket pulsed with an unnatural warmth that told her otherwise. She descended the rusted stairs, boots echoing against the concrete. The platform stretched before her, empty save for a single figure slumped against the far wall. Her partner, DS Morris, lay motionless, his face pale in the flickering emergency lights. "Detective Quinn." The voice came from the shadows—Eva Kowalski, the research assistant from the British Museum. She emerged from the darkness, her round glasses reflecting the light. "I found him like this. I was just here for some research materials." Harlow approached Morris's body, noting the lack of blood despite the unnatural angle of his neck. "Research materials?" She kept her voice steady. "At three in the morning?" Eva tucked a curl of red hair behind her left ear. "The restricted archives. They're only accessible through here." She gestured to a rusted metal door half-hidden behind a pile of debris. Harlow knelt beside Morris, her sharp jaw set as she examined his hands. They were clenched around something—a small brass compass, its face etched with protective sigils. The needle spun wildly, pointing in impossible directions. "Strange." Eva's voice held a note of fascination. "That's a Veil Compass. They're supposed to point toward supernatural rifts." Harlow pocketed the compass. "And you're familiar with such things?" "I've seen them mentioned in the archives." Eva's eyes darted to the compass. "But they're rare. Usually crafted by Shades." Harlow stood, her military precision evident in every movement. "Shades. That's what you call them? The supernatural beings?" Eva nodded, her freckled complexion pale in the dim light. "Some of us. The museum has extensive records, though most are restricted." Harlow turned to the metal door. "Show me." Eva hesitated, then led the way. The door opened into a narrow tunnel, its walls lined with shelves of ancient texts and artifacts. At the far end, a circle of candles burned around a stone altar. "This is where I was headed," Eva explained. "For a reference text on ancient London." Harlow examined the altar. The candles were fresh, their wax still warm. "You didn't light these." "No." Eva's voice trembled slightly. "I found them like this." Harlow noticed something else—a trail of fine white powder leading from the altar to a crack in the wall. She knelt, touching it with a gloved finger. "Alchemical substance. Recently used." Eva moved closer. "That's not good. If someone's been using this space for rituals..." Harlow stood, the compass suddenly warm in her pocket. The needle spun faster, pointing directly at the crack in the wall. "There's a rift here. A portal of some kind." Eva's eyes widened. "That's impossible. The Veil Market moves locations every full moon. It shouldn't be here." Harlow pulled out her phone, snapping photos of the scene. "Tell me about this market. Everything you know." Eva began to pace, her satchel swinging against her hip. "It's a black market for supernatural goods. Enchanted items, banned substances, information. But it's heavily guarded. Only those with bone tokens can enter." Harlow pulled out her own token, watching as it pulsed in response to the rift. "And you have one of these?" Eva nodded. "For research purposes. The museum has a standing agreement with certain... parties." Harlow pocketed the token. "I need to see these archives. Now." Eva led her back through the tunnel to a hidden door that opened into a room filled with ancient texts and artifacts. She pulled out a heavy tome, its pages filled with handwritten notes. "This details the market's history. It mentions a security system—the bone tokens aren't just for entry. They're part of a larger network that keeps the market hidden and protected." Harlow examined the book. "And if someone were to disrupt that network?" Eva's eyes widened. "It could cause the market to destabilize. The locations could overlap, create rifts between them." Harlow thought of Morris's body, the compass, the ritual circle. "Someone's trying to break the market's security. But why?" Eva shook her head. "I don't know. But if they succeed, it could be catastrophic. The market contains things that shouldn't be allowed to mix with our world." Harlow pocketed her phone. "I need to get this evidence back to the station. But I want you to keep looking into this. Find out who might want to destabilize the market." Eva nodded, her green eyes serious behind her glasses. "I'll do what I can. But Detective Quinn, be careful. If someone's willing to kill for this..." Harlow met her gaze. "I'm always careful, Ms. Kowalski. That's why I'm still alive." As she left the hidden room, the compass in her pocket suddenly pointed west, its needle spinning faster than before. Somewhere in London, another rift was opening. And she had a feeling it was connected to Morris's death. She emerged from the Tube station into the night, the city lights reflecting off the puddles from an earlier rain. The case had just become more complicated, but that was nothing new. She'd been solving impossible cases for eighteen years. This time, though, the impossible involved things she'd never believed in before tonight. Supernatural beings, hidden markets, rifts between worlds. But the dead body was still real, and so was her determination to find justice for Morris. She pulled out her phone and dialed her superior. "Sir, I need to report a murder. And I think we're dealing with something bigger than we thought."