Run: 2026-02-19-01KHT0PV24J4PZNMSCRQ70F22P

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped off the dimly lit platform of the abandoned Tube station, the smell of damp concrete and rust hanging heavy in the air. The flickering fluorescent lights above cast eerie shadows on the walls as she made her way towards the small crowd of officers gathered near the ticket gates. Her eyes, a deep, rich brown, scanned the scene before settling on the officer in charge, Inspector Harris. Harris, a portly man with a thick beard, nodded curtly as Quinn approached. "Morning, Harlow. We've got a weird one here." Quinn's sharp jaw set in a firm line as she took in the scene. The ticket gates were still intact, but the metal turnstiles were twisted and mangled, as if someone had ripped them apart with incredible strength. A severed finger lay on the ground nearby, the fingernail a pale, almost translucent pink. "What's the situation?" Quinn asked, her military precision evident in her bearing as she surveyed the area. "Couple of teenagers stumbled in here around three this morning," Harris replied. "Said they were exploring the tunnels, looking for thrills. They claimed they didn't touch anything, but we've got a witness who saw them arguing near the exit before one of them stormed off." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "And the victims?" "Two so far, both young adults. Looks like they were running a stall in the... market that's supposed to be down here." Quinn's gaze snapped back to Harris. "The Veil Market?" Harris nodded. "That's the one. We've had reports of some shady dealings going down here, but nothing this violent." Quinn's eyes began to roam the scene once more, this time searching for anything that might explain the gruesome scene. The ticket gates, the twisted metal... it all looked wrong. The lack of blood, the precision with which the gates had been torn apart... She stopped at the severed finger, her gaze locked on the pale fingernail. "Harris, what do you make of this?" Harris shrugged. "Looks like a sign of a struggle, maybe. The kids might've gotten scared and ran." Quinn raised an eyebrow. "And the finger? You expect me to believe that came from a struggle?" Harris's expression turned hesitant. "I... I don't know what to make of it, Harlow. Maybe it was an accident?" Quinn crouched beside the finger, her worn leather watch glinting in the dim light as she examined the nail more closely. "There's no blood on the nail, Harris. No cuts or scuffs on the surrounding skin. This finger was cut off cleanly, with a very sharp blade." Harris's voice was low and thoughtful. "Or maybe it wasn't an accident at all." Quinn's head jerked up, her eyes meeting Harris's in a challenge. "What are you saying?" "Just that maybe we're looking at this the wrong way, Harlow. Maybe this wasn't a fight or an accident... maybe it was a message." Quinn's gaze lingered on the finger a moment longer before she straightened, her sharp jaw clenched in thought. The Veil Market was notorious for its dark dealings, and the idea of a message sent in blood was far from impossible. "Get forensics to run the finger," Quinn told Harris. "I want to know whose it was and how it ended up here." Harris nodded, already reaching for his phone. "I'll get someone on it right away." Quinn turned back to the twisted ticket gates, her eyes roaming the scene once more. She needed to think, to put the pieces together. The Veil Market, the strange symbols etched into the walls nearby, the precise removal of the finger... A small, exquisite compass, tucked away in her pocket, pressed against her leg as she moved. Quinn's hand instinctively went to it, her fingers brushing the small brass case. The Veil Compass, a tool attuned to supernatural energy, was always with her, a reminder of the secrets that lay just beyond the edge of reality. As she stood there, Quinn's eyes narrowed, her gaze drawn back to the symbol etched into the wall. A symbol she recognized, one she had seen in her research on the supernatural rifts that plagued the city. It was then that she saw it: the faint, pulsating glow emanating from the twisted metal turnstiles. A glow that only the Veil Compass could detect, a sign of the supernatural forces that lurked just beyond the edge of reality. Quinn's eyes snapped to Harris. "We need to secure the area, Harris. This isn't just a crime scene... it's a supernatural hotspot." Harris's expression turned skeptical. "Harlow, we don't have any evidence of supernatural activity here." Quinn's face set in a firm line. "Evidence is exactly what I aim to find."