Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTR3TGERTVXWDVAE5W9GGJX

The rain streamed down the cracked tile walls of the abandoned tube station, pooling in the dim recesses of the platform. Detective Harlow Quinn's shoes splashed through the puddles as she approached the scene, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. "What've we got, Jenkins?" she asked, gaze sweeping over the body sprawled on the ground. The young uniformed officer looked up from his notes, brow furrowed. "Victim's Evelyn Kowalski, 26. Appears to be a single gunshot wound to the chest. Wallet and phone are still on her." Quinn crouched down, examining the body more closely. The girl's green eyes were open, staring sightlessly, and a dark stain had blossomed across the front of her floral print dress. A tattered leather satchel lay nearby, its contents spilled across the floor. "Robbery gone wrong?" she mused, glancing around at the shadowy alcoves of the platform. "That's what it looks like," Jenkins agreed. "But something seems... off." Quinn raised one eyebrow, and the officer hastened to explain. "I mean, the wound... it's not what I'd expect from a standard gunshot. And look at her hands - no defensive wounds." He gestured to the girl's pristine palms. "And why would a mugger leave the wallet and phone?" The detective considered this, lips pursed. "Good eye, Jenkins. This doesn't have the hallmarks of a simple mugging." She rose to her feet, brushing off her trousers. "Bag the body and take it back to the morgue. I want a full forensic work-up." As the uniformed officers set to their task, Quinn turned her attention to the scattered contents of the satchel. Several leather-bound books, a pair of round glasses, and a small brass compass caught her eye. She picked up the compass, turning it over in her palm. The face was etched with delicate protective sigils, and the needle spun erratically, as if drawn to an unseen force. Quinn frowned, slipping it into her pocket. "Detective!" She turned to see a tall, willowy woman striding toward her, dark curls bouncing against her shoulders. The woman's green eyes were wide with distress, and she clutched a rumpled piece of paper in one hand. "I'm Agent Mara Belova, from MI5," the woman said, flashing a badge. "I understand this is your crime scene, but I need to speak with you." Quinn eyed her warily. "What's this about?" "Evelyn Kowalski was one of ours - an asset in the Directorate of Special Access. She was investigating a lead on a…" Belova glanced around, lowering her voice. "A sensitive matter." The detective felt a tightening in her chest. "You mean the supernatural?" she murmured. Belova nodded, dark eyes serious. "We believe her death may be connected to her work - that's why I'm here." She extended the crumpled paper. "This was found in her possession. I think it may be important." Quinn took the paper, smoothing it out. It appeared to be a map, etched with strange symbols and what looked like a diagram of an underground tunnel system. Her brow furrowed as she studied it. "Where does this lead?" she asked. "The Veil Market," Belova replied grimly. "An underground black market that deals in... unnatural goods. We suspect Evelyn was close to uncovering something there." Quinn's mind raced. The compass in her pocket seemed to grow heavier, as if reacting to the mention of the supernatural market. "You think her death is tied to whatever she was investigating?" Belova nodded. "That's why I need to take over this case, Detective. It's a matter of national security." Quinn's jaw tightened. "With all due respect, Agent Belova, this is my jurisdiction. I can't just hand it off to you." She paused, considering. "But I'm willing to work with you, if you can guarantee me full access to your investigation." The MI5 agent studied her for a moment, then inclined her head. "Very well. We'll need to proceed with the utmost discretion." "Agreed." Quinn glanced back down at the map, her mind whirring. "Let's see what else we can uncover at this Veil Market." * * * The air was thick with the scent of smoke and spices as Quinn and Belova descended the worn stone steps into the Veil Market. The narrow passageways were lined with shadowy stalls, their wares ranging from arcane tomes to gleaming blades to strange, flickering crystals. Quinn gripped the brass compass in her pocket, its needle spinning wildly. Belova moved with a practiced ease, weaving through the throngs of cloaked figures. "Stay close," she murmured to the detective. "And keep your wits about you." Quinn nodded, her eyes scanning the crowd. A flash of red hair caught her eye, and she nudged Belova's arm. "There." She nodded toward a woman sitting alone at a small table, a worn satchel at her feet. "That could be our girl's friend - the one mentioned in the file." Belova followed her gaze, then turned to Quinn. "Let me do the talking." The MI5 agent approached the woman, who looked up with wary green eyes magnified by her round glasses. "Eva Kowalski?" Belova asked. The woman tensed, her fingers tightening on the edge of the table. "Who's asking?" "I'm Agent Mara Belova, with MI5. This is Detective Harlow Quinn, Metropolitan Police." Belova flashed her badge. "We're here about your friend Evelyn." Eva's face paled. "Evie? What happened?" Quinn stepped forward. "I'm sorry, but Evelyn... Evie, was found dead earlier tonight in an abandoned tube station." The woman's eyes went wide, and she shook her head in disbelief. "No, that can't be... She was supposed to meet me here." Her voice trembled. "You have to be mistaken." Belova's expression softened slightly. "I'm afraid not. We were hoping you might be able to help us understand what happened." Eva's gaze darted between the two women, her hands shaking. "I... I don't know. Evie and I were researching some... unusual occurrences in London. She said she'd found a lead and needed to follow it up." Quinn exchanged a glance with Belova. "Do you have any idea what that lead might have been?" The other woman hesitated, then reached down to retrieve her satchel. "She gave me this, before she left. Said it might be important." She pulled out a small brass compass, its needle spinning wildly. Quinn felt her breath catch in her throat as she recognized the object. "The Veil Compass," she murmured, holding out her hand. "May I?" Eva nodded, passing it over. As Quinn's fingers closed around the brass casing, the needle steadied, pointing resolutely toward a darkened alcove at the edge of the market. Belova's eyes narrowed. "It seems we may have found our next lead."