Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTQX75VXKPMFYGATGJHQBJF

Detective Harlow Quinn stepped off the rickety stairway and onto the dusty platform of the abandoned Tube station. The air was thick with the scent of decay and neglect. A faint hum of supernatural energy vibrated through the air, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She had been to her fair share of crime scenes, but none as peculiar as this. The flickering fluorescent lights overhead cast an eerie glow on the faces of the gathered officers. Quinn's gaze swept the area, her eyes lingering on the eerie symbols etched into the walls. The Veil Market, a hidden supernatural black market, had been set up in this very location last night. It was a place where one could find anything from enchanted goods to banned alchemical substances. But it was also a place where the desperate and the reckless came to play. "Quinn, glad you're here," her colleague, DS Ross, said, approaching her with a nod. "We've got a real puzzler on our hands." Quinn followed Ross to the center of the platform, where a small, makeshift stall stood. A sign, hastily scrawled with the words "Veil Compasses," hung crookedly from the stall's frame. Beneath it, a small, brass compass lay on the ground, its face etched with protective sigils. A patina of verdigris had formed on the casing, giving it an otherworldly sheen. "What do we know?" Quinn asked, crouching beside the compass. "Not much," Ross replied, consulting his notebook. "The market was supposed to move locations at midnight, but it looks like one of the vendors got left behind. Or maybe he was in a hurry to leave." Quinn's gaze roved the area, taking in the scattered goods and the abandoned stalls. "There's no sign of forced entry or struggle. It's as if the vendor just vanished into thin air." Ross nodded. "That's what I thought, but then I found this." He held up a small, leather-bound book. "It was tucked away in the vendor's stall. Looks like some sort of journal." Quinn took the book, flipping through its yellowed pages. The entries were cryptic, but one passage caught her eye: "The Shadowhand is growing restless. I fear I have attracted unwanted attention." "Shadowhand?" Quinn repeated, looking up at Ross. "What do you make of it?" Ross shrugged. "Could be a reference to a person or a group. Maybe our vendor was in over his head." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "I don't think so. This feels... deliberate. Someone wanted us to find this journal, to think our vendor was involved in something shady." As she spoke, Quinn's gaze wandered back to the compass. Something about it seemed off. She picked it up, feeling an unusual weight to it. The needle quivered, pointing toward a section of the wall where the symbols seemed to pulse with a faint, blue light. "Ross, take a look at this," Quinn said, holding out the compass. Ross peered at the needle. "That's not possible. There's no rift or portal in that direction." Quinn's eyes locked onto the wall. "I think there might be." With a newfound sense of purpose, Quinn stood, her eyes scanning the area. She began to pace the platform, taking in every detail. The symbols on the wall seemed to be some sort of warning, but warning against what? And what was the significance of the compass? As she walked, Quinn's thoughts turned to her partner, DS Morris, who had died three years ago under circumstances that still didn't add up. She had always suspected that the supernatural was involved, but she had never been able to prove it. Quinn's eyes snapped back to the present, focusing on the compass in her hand. She felt a shiver run down her spine. This case was starting to look a lot like her partner's. And she was determined to get to the bottom of it. "Ross, I want you to canvass the area, see if anyone saw anything unusual last night," Quinn said, her voice firm. Ross nodded, tucking his notebook away. "Already on it, Quinn." Quinn's gaze lingered on the compass before she tucked it into her pocket. She had a feeling that this was just the beginning of a very long night.